Someone cleared their throat, and Thomas broke off their kiss, his eyes holding hers for just a moment before he turned toward their driver.
Their driver. Fuck.
Maddie snapped her knees together, and she was grateful Thomas had shifted his hand to her thigh, skillfully drawing the hem of her dress down to a more reasonable level.
“We’re here, Mr. Hathaway.” The driver’s expression didn’t change at all, even when Thomas tightened his grip in her hair once more, causing her body to arch away from the seat against her own wishes. As embarrassing as that was, she managed to silence the moan that tried to slip from her throat.
“Wonderful, thank you Paul.” He turned towards her, that wicked grin back along with the unmistakable hunger in his gaze. “Are you ready?”
“Mmhmm.” She nodded, not confident enough in her ability to form actual words to even try.
When he stepped out of his side of the car and walked around, she looked out the window and realized they were not in front of Runway. Instead, it was a dimly lit store with a neon sign in the window in the shape of a hand with the word ‘PSYCHIC’ in purple letters beneath it. Thomas opened her door and helped her out onto the curb. Pulling her coat tighter around her, Maddie looked up at the store and somewhere under the haze of arousal two of her brain cells bumped together to elicit speech, “This isn’t Runway.”
“We’re not going to Runway, are we?” He smiled and took her hand, leading her to the door of the shop. It jingled as he held it open for her, and she stepped inside to the smell of incense and candles. Colorful decorations and scarves were everywhere, but he walked them straight to the back. Just past a half-drawn curtain, they found a Hispanic man sitting on a chair, the light of his phone highlighting the scar on his cheek.
For a moment he looked foreboding, and then he smiled and stood, holding his hand out to Thomas. “Hathaway, nice to see you again. Who’s the girl?”
“This is Maddie.” They shook hands before Thomas went to pull out his wallet.
The man waved his hand. “No need for that, I know you. Danny will want it for check-in though, you guys can go ahead.”
“Thanks, Luís.” Thomas reached for her again as Luís opened a door behind him, revealing another set of well-lit stairs.
As they walked by, the man winked at her, and she summoned a smile. “Yes, thank you.”
He nodded at her as they descended, Thomas keeping a hold on her hand over his shoulder. Then she heard the door shut behind them a moment before they reached a tunnel. It was brightly lit, but cold, and as she moved to walk beside him she tried to memorize everything that had just happened.
A second entrance. Another security guard. A fucking tunnel.
Black Light was beyond her imagination, and it would make for one hell of a story when she could think straight again, but the lingering buzz of Thomas’ touch on her skin was keeping her higher brain function to a minimum. She touched her lips and found them as swollen from their kisses as she thought. Making out in the back of a car like she’d never even dared to when she was in high school – but if she were honest with herself, a tiny part of her had always wanted a guy to take control like that. To grab her hair and…
Just before they reached the next door Thomas spun her in front of him and then pressed her back to the wall. His body was firm against hers, hard into soft. It was like he’d read her fucking mind, like he could always read her mind.
Would she ever be able to catch her breath around him?
When his lips found hers again she decided the answer was no. He cupped her face with his hands, one of his thighs pressing between her legs to rock against the core of her. Desperate sounds slipped from her mouth as one of his hands slid down to hold firmly to her hip.
Dominant.
In all of her research that was the word that appeared a million times, and it was the perfect word for him, the perfect summary of everything that he was. The aura of power that caught her whenever she was near, like the dangerous gravity of some dark star.
Breaking their lips he trailed kisses down her jaw, ending in a nip to the place where her neck met her shoulder. A sinful shift of his leg between hers, and then he was kissing her again. She moaned against his mouth, wanton in their solitude, clutching at his coat and wishing she could feel the heat of his skin on hers. He pressed more firmly against her, the friction of the layers of fabric on her clit causing her to rock her hips forward. “Please,” the whisper escaped before his lips collided with hers again, his teeth tracing a path before his tongue rejoined hers.
“Beg me again,” he growled, one hand across her neck, lifting her chin to make her look up at him.
“Please, sir…” She sounded as pathetic as she’d imagined, the cold of the wall behind her slowly leaching through her coat, but she couldn’t bring herself to care with those eyes locked on hers.
“Oh, Maddie. You are so perfect.” His thumb brushed across her lips, and she flicked her tongue out to taste his skin. The groan that left him was just as full of need as her soft pleas, but he grinned slowly, wickedly, and shook his head. “It’s too bad you were such a naughty girl, or we could skip straight to the pleasure.”
“What?”
“You’ve earned three sets. Remember?” He tapped her lower lip. Once, twice, three times. “And I wouldn’t be a very good Dom if I forgot them, now would I?”
“Sir –”
“You told me you wanted to be forgiven, didn’t you, Maddie?” Fuck. If only she could bottle his voice. The rough sound of it when he dropped his tone that low. It had her squirming against him in a moment, but he stilled her with a sharp push of her hip back towards the wall. “Madeline O’Neill, answer me.”
“Yes, sir.” Nodding against the hand he had holding her, she felt a flood of relief when he smiled at her. That bright, aristocratic, election-winning smile.
“Good girl. Now…” He slid his thigh between her legs once more, a slow teasing friction that had her whining. “I think you’re just about ready to come, aren’t you?”
“Yes, please. Please, I want to come, sir.”
“You sound so incredible when you beg me like that.” Thomas crushed her to the wall with his body, the hardness at his hips finally pressed to her stomach, and she suddenly had a very clear image of what it would be like to have those eyes staring down at her on her knees. “But I need you to listen very carefully.” He had leaned down just enough to speak against her ear, pulling her back from her fantasy. “If you come during your punishment, I will add a whole new set. Do you understand, beautiful?”
Maddie whined, actually whined, in her desperation.
“You have to say it.”
She forced the words through her lips, even though what she wanted to do was beg until he relented. “I understand, sir.”
“Wonderful, then let’s go inside.” He stepped back, and she sagged against the wall in his absence, her heart drumming a tattoo behind her ribs.
“Where?” Maddie asked quietly. Brain completely fuzzy again, drowning in the singular urge to have him touch her with his skilled hands, to find oblivion with his lips on hers.
Thomas Hathaway smiled like the devil, “Black Light, of course.”
Chapter Eight
“Of course,” she whispered.
Thomas took her hand and pulled her forward, and she managed to walk after him without tripping over her own feet – which was its own kind of miracle. When he opened the door, she was stunned to see the pale purple locker room. Complete with Daniel ‘Danny’ the security guy. The smirk on the man’s face made her brows pull together, because it looked like he knew a joke she wasn’t a part of.
“Thomas,” he nodded, the smirk only growing wider. “I see you brought Jaxson’s friend back.”
If she hadn’t already been completely flushed from all of Thomas’ calamitous touches, that comment completed the process. She was speechless, and while that was definitely not normal for her any other time in her l
ife, it was quickly becoming normal in Thomas Hathaway’s presence.
“Danny, it’s not nice to torture the subs outside of the club.” The chiding laughter in Thomas’ voice made her look up at him in shock, but he winked at her and brushed his hand down the line of her spine, renewing the rush of tingles across her skin.
“Looks like you got a head start already.”
“I had an invitation.” There was that warm flirtation again, and he squeezed her hand as they walked over to the window. Waiting for someone to respond to the bell, he leaned close and whispered, “Don’t let him torture you, beautiful, that’s my job.”
Her lips parted to respond, but then she closed her mouth tight. Every inch of her was still a mess of hormones, the buzz of need between her thighs louder than her thoughts. A man arrived at the window this time, and she barely tracked the discussion they had, only providing her ID when she was prompted.
No contract this time, because she’d already signed the NDA she planned on breaking.
He took their coats through the window, handing Thomas a slip of paper that he tucked into his wallet. A fresh stamp for her, then another receipt for him, and she swallowed as the guilt flickered to life somewhere amidst the fog of arousal.
You’re lying to him, the little voice whispered, and she flinched before trying to push it away.
It only took a minute to lock their things up before they were walking through the door into Black Light. He rested his hand on the back of her neck as soon as they were inside, the pressure of his grip making her shiver as he stepped close. “Take off your dress, Maddie.”
The club was laid out before her, so many others in various states of undress. Tied to different things, kneeling, crawling. It was a world with different rules, a place where she could do exactly as he said and there would be no consequences.
Only rewards, a different voice inside her spoke up. Urging her to let go, to ignore the guilt, to stop trying to control every single moment.
There was only one person in control right now, and she knew it.
“Maddie.” A hint of that chastising tone, but she loved it. Loved the heat blooming low in her belly, the return of that breathless feeling that sent her pesky thoughts spinning somewhere else.
Before he spoke again, she reached back for her zipper and started to lower it. Thomas’ hand touched hers and he took over, gliding it smoothly down. His thumb was rubbing in circles on her neck, and it felt soothing, and enticing – amazing. It seemed like everything he did with his hands was custom meant for her. Nudging the fabric at her shoulders, he slid it down, and she pulled her arms free of the three-quarter length sleeves.
When the dress was a pool at her feet, he spoke again, “What did you forget, Maddie?”
Yes, sir, the inner voice prompted, and she turned to look at him over her shoulder. “I forgot to say yes, sir.”
“That’s right.” He smiled and then ran his palms over her waist, before catching at her hips. Slowly drawing her tights down, he paused in a crouch to free her feet of the heels and tights. Always ensuring she was balanced, one hand on her calf. With a gentle push, he nudged her forward so she was out of the nest of fabric. There was humor in his gaze when he stood, so close to her bare skin she could feel the heat of him. “What happens when you forget to respond when we play?”
“Spanking, sir.” Even saying the word made her body wake up in a whole new way, the drugged languor his kisses had brought on fading into the shimmer of expectation, her skin waiting for the sting of his palm. Instead of a swat, he slowly ran his palm over the round of her ass.
“Right again.” Leaning down he scooped her things from the floor, and placed the bundle of cloth and shoes into her arms. “I’ll just add that to the list, won’t I?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered, wondering exactly what was on that list. Three sets of what? Thomas returned his touch to the back of her neck, walking her through part of the play area. Her eyes flickered over the people there, a few faces bringing sparks of recognition, but just as she tried to focus, to memorize, his fingers would squeeze and she’d find herself facing forward again.
They stopped at an older looking wooden door, which seemed both completely out of place, and somehow appropriate in the hodge-podge of items scattered across Black Light. It had a small window with iron bars about head height, and he peeked through before he opened the dark, metal handle. “Inside, beautiful.”
Her breath caught in her lungs as soon as she stepped through. It was dimly lit, a much more yellow tone than in the main club, and everything about it looked like it had been taken from a dungeon. An old world kind of dungeon. “Sir,” she whispered, her voice wavering, but he was right beside her as soon as the door was closed.
“Do you remember your safe words, Maddie? Repeat them for me.” There was a rough edge to his voice again, the one that had her melting from the inside out.
“Yellow if I want you to slow down, red if I want you to stop. Sir.” Goosebumps rushed over her skin as he traced his fingers down the line of her spine, even more intense now that her dress was gone. Just his skin on hers.
She needed more of it.
“We’re going to warm up just like we did before.” He started talking as he led her to a corner of the room, lit by what looked like actual medieval sconces, except the flickering light was artificial instead of a flame. “But with each set of punishment you’ve earned, I’m going to choose something a little more intense. If it’s too much, you’ll use your safe word. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she spoke quietly, unable to be any louder because he had stopped them in front of the St. Andrew’s Cross. It looked even more foreboding than the one in her dream. Braced to the dull gray wall with dark iron rivets that were flush with the surface of the wood to leave it smooth, gleaming, a warm reddish tone in the fictional firelight.
“Tell me the implements on your limits list.”
“What?” Her eyes found him just behind her left shoulder, and his eyebrows pulled together like he was concerned, or maybe upset. “Sir?” she added, but it didn’t change his expression.
“Your limits. We didn’t really need them last time, but I need to know what your limits are before I choose implements tonight.”
Maddie shook her head and looked back at the cross, her wrists tingling as she stared at the beautiful leather straps. Two for each arm, and two for each leg. What will that feel like? “I don’t have any, sir.”
“Madeline.” Thomas grabbed her arm and turned her to face him, her shoes almost tumbling from her arms before she adjusted. “You have to have limits. It doesn’t matter what anyone else has told you, you are always allowed limits.”
“But I trust you.” Turning to look back at the cross, she remembered the way the belt had felt at first, and then how the pain had changed. Morphed. Become something better with him.
Suddenly, she was looking into his eyes. Intense, forest brown. His hands were on either side of her head, and Maddie didn’t look away this time. He was searching for something, and she was curious if he’d find it in her. After a slow breath, in and out, he nodded. “Okay, Maddie. Alright. Promise me you will safe word if you need it.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered automatically, but she wasn’t sure if she would. If tonight would be more intense, how much better would she feel after it? What could he see in her that she couldn’t identify in herself? What would she learn if she just gave in?
The shift in him was felt before she saw it, the intensity was back, and she bit her lip to try and stifle her smile. “Put your clothes down, out of the way. Then get against the cross. Arms up.”
The authoritarian tone made her instantly wet. Well, more wet.
She obeyed, tucking her little pile of clothes to the left of the cross, and then she stepped up to it, raising her arms to brush against the smooth wood. “Yes, sir,” she remembered to answer once she was in position. In position, another phrase she’d learned in all her research.
Watching him work this time was fascinating. Instead of him building rope cuffs out of sight, he was touching her. Holding her in the right place as he threaded the leather strap through, and then locked it in place. Left arm, then wrist. Right arm, then wrist. He ran his hands down her sides, pausing at her hips to squeeze. “I want your underwear off this time. Are you okay with that?”
“Yes, sir.” Nodding, she wiggled her hips, and he tugged them down in a single movement, touching her ankles so she could step out. Without her underwear in the way her mind spun off in a hundred directions dreaming up what it might feel like to have him touch her again. To have him slide his fingers inside her and push her over the edge, or fuck her against the hard wood of the cross. A soft sound left her lips, and she knew she was one brush of his fingers away from coming apart.
He’d wound her up on purpose. Made her delirious with need – but it wasn’t necessary. She would have walked back into Black Light without the teasing touches, the fevered kisses. Would have returned to this place even if it wasn’t him… but because it was him she found herself pressing her ribs against the hard wood of the cross, fantasizing about the first licks of pain he’d promised her.
Thomas spread her legs wide, and when she tried to lift onto her tiptoes he pressed her heel back to the floor. “No need to strain your legs, you’ll be uncomfortable enough in just a few minutes.”
Right. Three punishments.
He draped his jacket over a hook on one wall that she assumed was not actually meant to be a coat rack. Her breaths were getting shorter as he undid each cuff on the sleeves of his button down, rolling them up his forearms. When he caught her staring he smiled, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “So many messages this week, Maddie. You liked the belt a lot, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” Crimson heat flushed her cheeks.
“I have to admit that having a sub like you is a rare gift.” His cool hands touched her ribs as he moved behind her, out of her line of sight. “A real masochist… tell me, Maddie, are you excited, or nervous, about what you’ve earned?”
Black Light: Exposed (Black Light Series Book 2) Page 9