People in varying degrees of nudity engaged in whatever floated their particular boat, while others played the role of spectator or moderated to ensure the scene didn’t become unsafe. Per the rules, no alcohol tainted the scent of sex, sweat, and candle wax, but an underlying scent of disinfectant suggested someone had recently finished up a scene. Low lights illuminated the play, and Kennedy struggled to find interest in it all.
There was a time, not long before, when just walking into the room would harden his cock. Tonight? Nothing.
Clapping a hand on Ogre’s shoulder as he passed, he headed deeper into the house. He’d promised to come, he hadn’t promised to play. Shoving into one of the quiet rooms, generally reserved for aftercare, he pulled out a pack of smokes and shook one free after he’d locked the door.
“Look, there’s no smoking in here. If you’re going to smoke, you can head out to the ventilated room marked Smokers.”
He hadn’t seen the woman curled on the couch, but when she spoke, he narrowed his gaze to see the dim outline of her. Not much light made it into the room—he’d not bothered with the light switch, so only the seam from under the door illuminated her—but her head seemed misshapen somehow. If she’d come in here for aftercare, where was her Dom?
He didn’t have to listen to her—he half owned the fucking place, after all, so if he chose to light up in a nonsmoking room, he damn well could. Something about her tone, a mix of frailty and strength, tempted him to go closer, though, so he tapped the cigarette into the pack and placed it in his pocket.
“Sorry. I didn’t know anyone would be in here this early.” As far as he knew, Ogre opened the building about an hour before they’d headed over, meaning she’d either been in a particularly short scene or— Where is her Dom?
He wasn’t sure how he knew or why he cared, but he was positive the mystery woman hiding in the shadows wasn’t a Domme. There was something innately feminine submissive about her posture, at least what he could see of it. Something which echoed out in her tone and almost seemed to call to him on a primal level.
His eyes had adjusted to the lack of light a bit, and he could see her head was misshapen, more because she wore some kind of mask. He moved closer, trying to see her clearer.
“You could stop squinting at me and turn on a light, you know.”
He jumped a little at her words. Here, he’d been trying to see in the dark and barely made out that she didn’t have giant tentacles coming out of her face and she’d managed to see him squinting. Possibly, since she’d spent longer sitting in the dark, her eyes adjusted more than his? Closing his eyes, he flicked the switch, flooding the room with light. When he opened them, she was illuminated and blinked up at him from pale green eyes rimmed with heavy eyeliner and mascara. Was it his imagination, or had her pupils just done something funny?
“Okay, now you’re staring. That’s rude, you know.”
He shook his head, thrown by her and the situation. She wore what looked like a leather animal mask, a wolf or dog or something, which hid most of her face. All he could see well of her was her chin, her full, red-painted lips, and those almost eerily beautiful pale green eyes. The rest was the mask, which made no effort to hide the dark chestnut hair flowing around her shoulders. Her body was hardly covered, wearing little more than a series of brown leather straps which matched the mask. The sexy outfit allowed him to see quite an expanse of muscular and pale woman—unmarked flesh which would look radiant blushed pink. Every inch of her screamed femininity, despite all the leather, down to the way she arched her delicate, red-painted toes. The darkness of the outfit made the contrast of flesh dramatic, leaving him to wonder if touching her would be a dichotomy of soft skin and the hardness of the brown strips of snapped leather.
“Still staring,” she pointed out, curling a bit more into herself. “And it’s getting creepy.”
“I’m sorry. I—” He cleared his throat. “Minotaur. You are?” No collar marred the delicate line of her throat, meaning she wasn’t owned.
He wasn’t sure why he cared, since he’d not come to play, but she wasn’t collared and it thrilled him.
Her lips turned up in a smile, almost as if she had a bit of a secret. His body reacted, an almost audible click inside him, and he lusted her at merely that slow Cheshire movement of her bright red lips. “Lupine. When I’m here, I’m Lupine.” The sound of her voice stroked him, despite the distance between them, and he suddenly hoped he’d get to touch the body that went with the voice.
“Wolfish, a reflection of your mask. Nice. Beautiful flower choice.” You’re beautiful. He didn’t say the words, though, shocked at his own turn of thought. He wasn’t the kind of man who felt the need for flattery or romantic notions, preferring his play rough and wild.
“I thought it was apt. So, Minotaur, we’ve never met before, and I’ve been coming here for years….” She left it at that, the question in her statement obvious, if unspoken. Who are you, and why are you in my club? Meaning she told the truth and was comfortable with her position in their society—something he and Ogre intended with the select membership and close nature of the members of their group.
“I’ve been out of town.” He might not have been at the club in years, but he remembered the rules. Nothing personal, nothing to disrupt the play with the uncomfortable realities of the outside world. They chose the location, the membership—all of it, really—with the intent of making a safe, private, and exclusive place where almost anything could happen.
Part of him longed to tell this girl more, though. To curl up beside her and tell her whatever she wished to hear, so long as she kept talking to him. The sheer strangeness of his response left him hesitant, and he took a step back, creating more space between them.
She stood, apparently not noticing his need for distance. As she moved toward him, he stiffened. However, she stopped little more than a foot away. Not crowding him, but still closer than he preferred her to come. “Nice to meet you.” Her small offered hand only proved she was close enough to touch. Close enough to taste. Close enough to smell.
The ripe scent of her—something musky and floral and female all in one sweet breath—stiffened his body further. He desired the little wolf, more than he’d craved another woman in longer than he cared to remember.
Which meant he was dangerous to her. Some of the things he’d imagined in dreams…. He pinched his eyes closed, almost as if he could escape the dark twisting paths of his own mind. Instead of answering, he turned away from her, heading to the door.
Her hand on his arm ground him to a halt, and he breathed through his mouth to resist smelling the mesmerizing blend of her aroma. “Wait, I’m sorry. I was being too forward. I’m sorry….”
She tapered off, running out of words and withdrawing her hand.
“You have a master?” The lack of collar spoke volumes, but he needed to be certain.
“No. I play, sure, but, well, I’m not anyone’s property or anything, if that is what you’re asking. I only take part in scenes, or, well….”
“Would you be interested in negotiating play, little wolf?” Even as he damned himself for making the offer, part of him surged up, ready to take her—right then if he could.
She froze at his words, looking startled. Quickly regaining her composure, however, she nodded. As she licked her full lips, further hardening his already rock-hard cock with the tempting peek of pink, she considered his body before she answered. “I would, yes. You’re new, though, so I’d prefer to speak with Ogre, first…. Actually, can he mediate?”
Jealousy, an unfamiliar sensation, rippled through him, and he gripped the doorknob, trying to convince himself to walk away from her while the getting was good. Instead, he nodded at her. “Fine. I’ll get him. Stay here.”
The snap of command on the last comment wasn’t intended. Most of the time he showed far more control, finesse. He didn’t boss around subs before they’d negotiated it. With her? The rules seemed harder to follow. Which meant he
should stay the hell away from her.
Instead, he went to find his friend and would drag him forcefully to the room, if needed. He intended to touch her—tonight, that moment, anything to sate the hunger the sound of her voice had awakened.
Chapter Three
The negotiations were surprisingly standard, considering their unusual meeting and the strange sense of more which tainted their awkward introduction. He’d asked for her to remove the mask while they played, so he could better see her reactions. She’d rejected the premise and insisted the mask stay on for all interactions.
She’d asked for him to restrain her. He got very specific in the ways he planned to do so. Since none of the options he offered were shocking, she agreed pretty easily.
He’d asked what her hard limits were, about how much pain she liked with her pleasure. Since she couldn’t tell him she was almost unbreakable to his human hands and any damage he did would heal fast enough, she said, “A lot.”
The small thrill of pleasure in his gaze as he considered her flesh should have made her nervous, but it didn’t.
From the moment he walked into the dark room and locked the door, her body seemed attuned to him. She’d yearned for sex before. She wasn’t new to the lifestyle or her own cravings, but something about this human was different. Maybe because he screamed Dom with his every move—a man who mastered and claimed that which he touched—her submissive side clamored to test him.
Maybe because his intense scrutiny made her feel beautiful, special, and important.
Maybe because the scent of him seemed to do things to her she wasn’t familiar with. She ached for his touch, for cripes’ sake—
“Lupine, are you paying attention?” Ogre’s voice cut through her distraction, and she smiled at both men.
“Sure, sorry, I was thinking about it….” Stumbling over her words, she glanced up at Minotaur again. He was the cause of her nerves and agitation. Something about him made her feel out of control, confused, flustered. He was so damn big. His very stance seemed controlled, while his body was husky with muscles she longed to touch.
Hot. She felt hot and needy and fought the urge to crawl in his lap and claim him.
Thinking the word “claim” further threw her off. She wasn’t often driven by her wolfish instincts, not when she consorted with humans. The club was supposed to be her release valve—the one place she wasn’t pressured by pack politics, pack decisions, Wolf rules. In the human world, she was just another woman, if a submissive one, looking to be mastered.
Not that any master ever managed the feat, but every woman had things she desired. She longed for someone to take away her control, to see through her bullshit and really dominate her.
Sadly, she’d become damn good at her small rebellions, and no one seemed willing to give her what she needed. A sense of security, a relief from having to think…someone else who would take all the control and then cherish her for giving it to him.
Minotaur’s dark gaze drilled into her. Something about him screamed sadness, broken dreams, and a part of her longed to offer him solace. Another part longed to flop on her belly like the bitch she was and beg for him to pet her.
“Lupine, you have to pay attention.” Ogre’s voice snapped in command, and she cringed away from his tone. They’d played, or rather he’d been the one calling out directions for a few of her scenes in the past, but he’d never tripped her trigger as the new guy did with a glance. The distant scents of metals, of ropes, of human sweat reminded her how many possibilities lay before her and the human once they’d finished the contract, and she swallowed hard as lust made heat pool between her legs.
“Sorry, Ogre,” she declared then folded her hands in her lap. “We’ve settled on a safe word, on what kind of play constitutes a hard stop, on what we both want out of this…. What else needs discussing?” Small rebellions, her forte since the pack unraveled and she’d learned misdirection worked better than flat-out disobedience, were almost second nature. Giving Ogre a challenging grin, she waited to see if he’d call her out for her less than submissive response.
“I require complete obedience and submission. If you choose to act out, to test my dominance, understand this…I will punish you. If you’re submitting to me, I’ll not allow you your little rebellions, wolf. Are we understood?” The tone of his voice alone sent shivers of desire racing down her spine.
“Understood, Minotaur.” She wondered what his real name was, what he did for a living… How everyone seemed to know him, including Ogre, but she’d never met him before.
Which was strange in and of itself. She never wondered about the members of the club or their lives outside of their kinky play. She didn’t care. It wasn’t as if she came to the dungeon to socialize. She came to fulfill her sexual hungers, nothing more.
But Minotaur wasn’t the average man and her reaction to him hadn’t been normal on any other level, either. She should run, escape all the strange, tangled feelings he awakened without seeming to put an iota of effort into the task. Just contemplating her with his ever-sad eyes spoke volumes to some buried part of herself.
Minotaur nodded and stood. “Sign it. We’ll begin tonight.”
Her hand shook as she obeyed. No sooner had she penned her name next to his on the contract than he tugged her to her feet by her elbows. “I want privacy,” he said to Ogre. “She agreed to solo play, so we’ll be taking the blue room. Any problems?”
“Leave it unlocked. You haven’t played for a long time, so if the noise gets too…. Well, I’d feel safer if the room was unlocked.”
Minotaur growled. Although he was shorter than Ogre, he went toe-to-toe with the other man without the slightest hesitation. Patch shivered when the tension in the room snapped taut, testosterone and challenge filling the air between the two men.
“Look, man, don’t you think it would give you peace of mind, too? Knowing if things went too far, I’d step in?” Ogre didn’t yield, and her new Dom continued to stare him down. If they were Wolves, it would be a dominance challenge. In humans, the nonverbal combat lasted for seconds before another scent tinged the air between them.
They stood, almost in silent communication as they glared at each other, before Minotaur gave a curt nod. “Fine. Unlocked, but don’t barge in to get your jollies off. Unless you think she’s in danger, you stay out. Understood?”
Ogre nodded then grinned a positively silly smile at Minotaur. “Man, it is damn good to have you home. Have a nice time. I’m glad you found one another, you kinky bastards.”
With a grunt in answer, her new Dom tugged her down the hall. She didn’t spare a glance behind her toward Ogre, completely fascinated with Minotaur’s hold on her and the sight of his formidable shoulders retreating down the hall ahead of her. “Tonight?”
The little rebellions, like talking, she’d taken for granted since no Dom ever enforced their rules over her, especially not before the scene officially began, weren’t a big deal, or so she told herself. But when Minotaur pinned her to the wall, arms braced above her and head pressed to the wood paneling, she sucked in a breath of his scent and went weak at the knees. If he hadn’t been holding her up by her wrists and hadn’t pressed a palm to the base of her spine, she might have crumpled.
“I didn’t give you permission to speak.” The words were the only warning she got before his hand clapped down on her mostly nude ass.
Biting down hard on her lip, she closed her eyes in pleasure. Her ass flamed with heat, the sharp pain transforming to liquid pleasure as her blood rushed to the spot, leaving her sensitive. He wasn’t allowing an inch, this man with his dark curling hair and decadent scent. “I—”
“I said, don’t speak.” His punishment was swift and uncompromising, the clap of sound when his hand again connected with her ass punctuating his sentence.
The harshness of her breath and the distant thump of music and laughter were the only sounds in the dark hallway. Satisfied she’d gone quiet, he spun her and pressed into her b
ody with his own. She whimpered at the feel of him, all hot and hungry man, pushing against her.
“Better.” He rewarded her obedience with a single fast kiss.
But the kiss wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, so she all but ran after him to the blue room.
***
She’d agreed to submit to him, yet continued little rebellions she seemed to think he wouldn’t notice. She was obedient but managed just a hint of disobedience, as if testing the waters and seeing how much leash he’d allow her.
Instead of infuriating him, of waking the darkness he feared within himself, her independent spirit challenged him and amused him in turns. She impressed him with her quick wit, her daring, her beauty.
And while she managed to amaze him, she also tempted him in a way comparable to some sort of enchantment. On a very primal level, in some way he couldn’t quite name, everything she was begged every part of him to claim her. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman as badly as he craved this one, making him want to stop the play so he could take her in every way a man could take a woman.
So far, he’d left on her leather-strap getup, finding the bits it concealed teased him as much as the outfit revealed, though he’d tugged a strap down a bit to leave one dark nipple peeking at him. While flicking the tip, he focused on her delicate face, hidden behind the leather wolf mask. The mask would limit his ability to gauge her reactions, meaning he needed to take care. Things could spiral from fun for everyone to actual pain, and he needed to pay close attention to her signals—harder since she was a stranger and he’d not yet seen what made her tick.
Not that her safety was the sole reason he’d requested she rid herself of the leather hiding her face from him. Part of him simply longed to see her, another unreasonable and unfathomable reaction to add to his list with her. “Are you quite comfortable, Lupine?”
Wolf on a Leash Page 2