Ross remembered how Stone had very nearly intervened with Cameron Fraser when he had connected with a woman here, his now-lifelong partner Olivia, in some kind of interesting claiming scene. That would have been the epic throw down of the BDSM circuit. He had no desire to challenge the man’s authority and possibly lose his membership. Some of the other clubs weren’t well run and allowed sexual acts in the public rooms, and sometimes people got carried away and caused problems for the owners. Ross wasn’t one of those people, and he hurried to convince her before Stone shut him down.
“I promise not to do anything you don’t want to do,” he assured her, using every manner of seduction at his disposal, his voice, his eyes, and above all, his demeanor. He did his absolute best to impress her with his sincerity.
Her eyes turned nearly black again, and her nipples hardened into points against his chest. Her luscious mouth curved into a smile and Ross wondered at his luck. He hadn’t been looking for anyone special. He had talked himself out of relationships, not because his heart had been broken or that he longed for someone he couldn’t have and thus denied himself. No, he simply liked his life the way it was, right up until he saw Elise Cooper. If he had met her in a bar, or at a party, somewhere other than the Club, he would have pursued her. There was no doubt about it in his mind, and it was a novel, interesting feeling.
“What if I just want to talk?” she asked, laughter clearly evident in her voice.
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he answered and almost convinced himself that he meant it. He felt Stone relax back into the dimness as Elise spoke, and much of the tension drained from him as well.
The room he escorted her to didn’t lend itself to talking, and Elise eyed the large bed and its restraints with clear anxiety, her earlier, teasing humor gone. The shackles on the wall upped the ante, and he quickly put space between their bodies, not that he was going to apologize for his lifestyle. She was on his turf, after all.
“Seeing as there’s no place other than the bed to sit, which side do you want?” he offered.
Elise visibly calmed at his hint of humor and took the side of the bed he always chose. Already there would be something to sort out. He smiled and obligingly sat on the opposite side, making sure she had her space. The silence lengthened, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. She hadn’t seemed to notice that he had locked the door and that it was a code lock. It was a precaution only. He didn’t want interruptions, and if Elise decided to flee for any reason, he would have a little time to reason with her while he keyed the code in. Ross was nothing if not a planner.
“So,” she finally asked, “why a D/s club?”
“I’m dominant, although primarily in the bedroom, Elise, and this lifestyle lets me practice that without censure. Some women don’t like it when a man takes charge, and some don’t care to satisfy my, um, tastes, or want theirs satisfied, my way. The Club gives me what I need, and it cuts right to the chase.”
Elise was clearly taken aback by his honesty, her eyes and lips opening in shock.
“I guess I have heard some of that,” she finally said, “although I’m sure all of you are different?”
Ross was thrilled how this woman immediately grasped that Doms were individuals and as such had varying tastes and needs, even if ultimately it was to serve their submissives. There was a code, and it sometimes varied from club to club, and as with all things, the code was open to interpretation. It boiled down to Doms providing what they learned their subs needed, but the dynamics around that definition were diverse.
“Doms are certainly all different, Elise, but most of us aspire to a code of ethics.”
“Ethics?” she asked.
“The majority of us aren’t interested in beating, abusing, or otherwise harming subs, contrary to the sadistic manner in which we are sometimes portrayed, although there are some subs who crave and demand that kind of treatment. Most of us are trained in giving erotic pain to enhance pleasure and provide an intense emotional outlet, and that takes many forms. And there are some who control every aspect of their submissives’ lives, but only because they require it.”
“People actually demand pain?” Elise asked.
“Some do,” Ross replied. “But I have no interest in hard-core BDSM.”
He waited while Elise processed the small amount of information he had given her before continuing.
“You didn’t like seeing the restraints, did you?” he asked.
Elise shook her head. “I don’t trust anyone enough to tie me up. Being helpless, unable to defend myself…that’s never happening again.”
Ross pounced. “Again?”
She ducked her head, and he jolted at the submissive move. He was certain she wasn’t aware of it, but she was already deferring to him.
“Elise?”
“How is it that I want to talk to you and tell you all about me? This is nuts. I don’t talk to people about that stuff. I live for the present.”
Ross shrugged. “Maybe it’s the environment. Or the spark between us. And don’t piss me off by denying it, Elise. Don’t you dare shake your head.”
She looked at him, clearly startled at his perception, and then dropped her eyes again. Ross took further heart at her repeated submissive gesture and the way she then answered him.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“I want to know what happened to you, and I hope we will get to that, but first of all, let me tell you why I restrain my subs. Most subs, at least the ones I want to be with, are strong, independent women. The men they often have in their lives relate to them based on that independence. They treat them accordingly or want to break that self-determination. It can fall short in so many aspects. My subs want to let go of that everyday burden of control when it comes to sexual pleasure, but it isn’t easy for them. So I take the choice away.”
Again, Ross paused and waited for her to assimilate the information before continuing, but his last statement had resonated with her. He could see it in her increased pulse and heart rate and flags of color now adorned her cheeks.
“I’m very good at what I do, Elise. I can read a woman’s response to all kinds of touching and know when to increase it or back off. And, a sub has a safe word that is absolutely and totally respected. If she says it, everything stops and we take time, discuss things. There isn’t a threat of me walking away and never seeing her again, because that would be a form of blackmail. I must truly believe that everything I do is in her best interest.”
“What if she wants it to start again?” she asked, her voice quivering.
“Communication is incredibly important in any relationship, Elise, regardless of the type of relationship. Doms and subs communicate all the time, or things don’t go well. Subs get punished if they don’t ask for what they want, be honest and communicate at all times. Doms are perceptive but not infallible, no matter how well they think they know their subs, so they always push communication. Trust, however, is paramount.”
“I couldn’t be that vulnerable.”
“You could if you trusted your Dom.”
Elise jumped up from the bed and began to pace, her movements graceful and evocative. Ross wanted to pull her back down and kiss her until she agreed to let him begin to train her.
“When I came here tonight I wasn’t looking for anything, Ross. I came for Emily, who I’ve abandoned. I need to go. Key in the code, please.”
So she had noticed the code lock. Ross appreciated her vigilance, even if it probably came out of hard-earned survival mode.
“But we haven’t finished talking,” he reminded her.
“Can we talk another time?”
“I’ll be here tomorrow night,” he answered.
“So, no, ‘I’ll pick you up at eight’?” she quizzed.
“Way too early in the scheme of things, Elise. This lifestyle is part of me and is something you would have to accept, although not all the time, if we are to move forward. If you want to continue our conversation, come back tomorrow
night. And, to be clear, expect more than just a chat.”
Elise visibly swallowed and then touched her fingertips to her throat before nodding and again dropping her eyes.
He opened the door and watched her walk through it and down the hall. She didn’t look back, and a part of him went with her. He had no idea how to reach her if she didn’t come tomorrow night, but he had established his expectations, and now it was up to Elise.
Chapter Two
Elise found Emily just where she had left her, curled up in the chair. She was getting tired of going along with her friend’s pursuit of whatever it was she was looking for, and this was the last time she was going anywhere social with her. Social. That was a laugh. This was a place where women, and probably men, too, seeing as there had been some members of the opposite sex in the waiting area, went off with some dominant person and did things. Things that involved sex. There was no familiar social aspect about it, although Elise didn’t have much to compare socialization to.
The idea of those sexual things Ross talked about made her panties damp and terrified her at the same time. Ross Lassiter drew her like absolutely no man had done before. The man oozed sex appeal with his tall, really large, muscular frame. She actually felt average sized in his presence, and he had made none of the usual cracks about her height. And he had checked her out with obvious interest and satisfaction, yet without making her feel sleazy. His light-blue eyes had been mesmerizing in his sun-darkened face. The way his shiny, brown hair was caught back in a tie at the nape of his neck was reminiscent of the pirates in her childhood books. She hadn’t been able to look at his hands without thinking about how they would feel on other parts of her body. She also hadn’t wanted him to release her when she pulled away from him, and that astonished her.
Elise rarely paid attention to men other than as students, friends, or potential danger. Ross didn’t fit any of those categories. He felt dangerous but not in a physical kind of way, and Elise found herself wanting to explore this thing, as bizarre as it sounded. Maybe it was like those desensitization treatments one got for allergies. Elise nearly laughed out loud at the idea of Ross Lassiter being compared to a such a thing, like a shot in the arm every month.
She had felt no serious concern when he had locked the door, even when she realized what the room was intended for. That should make no sense to her. She didn’t trust anyone and didn’t leave her safety to chance, but she hadn’t been afraid. Perhaps part of it was the fact that Emily had made it through the initial information sessions without dropping out. Her friend had spoken glowingly of all the fail safes and security, so different from the night clubs and parties she attended. Yet Emily had been the one to chicken out tonight. Elise wondered at that, but Em was the stereotypical flighty blonde, so maybe that explained it, except Elise had gotten the odd impression from time to time that Emily hid behind that stereotype. Elise herself was excellent at hiding, so she tended to notice it in other people. But Emily was well defended if that was the case.
On the other hand, Ross’s explanation, as streamlined as it had been, made total sense. She had become a strong, independent woman out of dire necessity, and there were times when she longed to let someone else shoulder that burden, and take care of her, even some of the time. She had been forced to become strong and independent to overcome her experiences with that crazy family she had married into. She had to change and be responsible for herself or simply give up and sink without a trace. She never let anyone, ever, see the vulnerable, anxious woman inside of her. That was why her inner self was so safe. Elise taught young adults, men and women not many years younger than she, at thirty-four, and held both their interest and respect because of her professionalism. The problem was, she could never relax and let anyone in. Not anyone, because she dare not leave herself open to be hurt once they learned about how damaged she was. They would either take advantage or turn away in disgust, she was certain. Instead she met her needs by becoming a helper, a caregiver for those she called her friends, like Emily, and volunteered, doing good deeds. Putting herself last kept her shit together and kept her out of the spotlight. She was also as celibate as a nun.
“Elise!” Emily exclaimed. “Where did you go? What happened?”
“I went with Mr. Lassiter and talked about this place, Emily,” Elise explained. “I’m not sure this is somewhere you’re going to meet that man of your dreams. Maybe you need to find a singles group or something at a church club.” Elise smiled to herself at the dichotomy, eliciting a sharp look from Em.
She urged Emily toward the exit, chatting about how nice Emily looked in her cute little leather outfit, hoping to distract her and avoid further questions. As usual, her strategy worked, because Emily was quite self-absorbed. Then the little woman pouted and whined all the way home, with Elise paying attention to the road and nodding and making small noises to pretend her interest. She pulled up in front of Emily’s place with relief. She would never abandon Emily, because she sensed the survivor in the other woman, a match for the one in her, and knew the anxious, bitchy, almost narcissistic behavior was a strong, well-honed defense mechanism that sometimes reeked of desperation. It was the opposite of the blonde persona. Emily was searching for something, while Elise had abandoned the search over fourteen years ago. Except something had just appeared to find her.
“So, how about hitting some of the dance clubs tomorrow night?” Emily suggested as she got out of the car.
Elise shook her head. “No thanks, Em. Once a week is my limit. See you.” She hardly waited for Emily to slam the door before she put the car in drive and accelerated away, ignoring the prick of her conscience. She had just lied to Emily. She was pretty sure she was going back to see Ross tomorrow night. Normally not an impulsive person, she felt she had to see how this played out, and he had been refreshingly honest with her. She knew that going to that club was complying and only a small part of the real surrender he would want from her. She wouldn’t think about the rest but take it a step at a time, and at her pace if possible. She felt alive and realized she was experiencing sexual attraction, something she hadn’t felt since her teen years. Her solitary self-pleasuring was infrequent and random, and in response to an inability to sleep, a nameless frustration.
* * * *
Elise checked her look in the mirror one more time before snatching up her keys. She had tossed and turned for the initial part of the previous night before getting up and researching BDSM on the Net. After reading for some time, she accepted it was her choice to make and that she would have the power in the D/s relationship, although it wasn’t the kind of power that would burden her. It felt like a life ring thrown to a drowning man. She had then had slept like a log. She cleaned her apartment and graded papers the next day, and the hours had flown by. It was only after she showered and faced her nonexistent out-on-a-date clothing choices that Elise started to second-guess herself. She finally pulled on a lightweight dress over some pretty panties and stepped into the same sandals from the night before. She clipped her freshly washed hair back, adding a pair of simple hoops to her ears. She swiped a mascara wand over her lashes and used a touch of lip gloss, and she was ready.
Her palms were a bit sweaty and her pussy seemed to thrum whenever she thought about Ross and remembered the pictures and captions from the research she had done. It was kinky and perverted in an arousing way, and she let herself respond with only a modicum of guilt and shame. Real perversions were far more familiar to her and didn’t take place in a club but in what should have been the privacy and safety of her own home.
The club doorman took her name and ushered her inside. He raised an eyebrow slightly, and Elise realized that he had known she’d slipped in with the group the night before. She smiled at him, and he beamed back at her. Elise wondered if she had just made a friend. Too strange. She had a possible boyfriend who just happened to be a Dom, and had made friends with a bouncer at a BDSM club. All extraneous thoughts fled when she saw Ross coming toward her. He was
intent on her, focused, and she shivered, her underwear suddenly chafing between her legs. He was huge in his dark shirt and leather pants, and he had a whip tied around his waist. Elise’s stomach hit the floor and she involuntarily backed up.
“Hello, Elise. Having second thoughts?” he nearly purred.
“No, Ross,” she answered. “At least not until I saw your belt.”
Ross laughed and Elise loved the dark, velvety sound.
“Mostly for show, honey,” he said. “Although I am accomplished with it. And you will call me Sir.”
Elise took his outstretched hand and followed him into the same room where they had met the night before, trying to ignore the dark thrill of his command and keep her wits about her. This time the bed was stripped, with the exception of the bottom sheet. The restraints were still evident. Her breathing hastened, her heart began to pump harder, and her pussy began to weep. Ross was nothing but honest, that was clear. He had warned her, and still she had come.
“You look beautiful in that dress, Elise,” he said. “Now remove it.”
Elise felt the blood roaring in her ears. She thought her legs would fold under her and fought to answer him.
“There is no answer required, Elise. Simply compliance.”
Elise reached down for the hem and pulled the dress over her head and stood there uncertainly. Ross motioned to the hall tree in the corner and she numbly walked over and hung the garment up. The built-in shelf bra in the dress had negated wearing her usual staid choice of that article of clothing, so now she was wearing only her lace briefs and her sandals. She felt both exposed and incredibly sexy and wondered if he could read her. Of course he could. That was his role, and he had said he was good at what he did. She believed him.
“Come here, Elise. Your safe word is journey.”
Vulnerable [Club Pleasure 4] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 2