His Devil's Chains

by Linzi Basset

  This time there was no mistaking the heated look she shot at him. Jack was delighted by her response. If she’d morphed into a meek yes-sir-no-sir rendition of her own self, he would have ended the trial farce then and there.

  Transfixed by her beauty, he narrowed his gaze upon the pillowed mouth and moved closer, giving in to the temptation she had offered over the past month. He nibbled on her lips, enjoying the tantalizing sweetness on display. Her lips bloomed open under his; her body gravitated closer on its own accord. Jack broke the contact with a small step back.

  Jordan stumbled at the sudden loss of the hard body against hers. She blinked to bring him into focus. The amused grin was back on his lips.

  Damn him. He knows what effect he has over me.

  She simmered at her inability to keep her own emotions under wrap. One way or the other, she had better get a grasp of herself, otherwise, she was doomed and would definitely fuck up the entire operation.

  “Well?” Jack waited. Words weren’t needed. His entire body warned her she was walking a tightrope. Either she capitulated, or she was gone. She pushed the limits until his lips moved to speak before she gracefully sank to her hands and knees.

  I might want him like I’ve never wanted a man but I’ll be damned if he thinks he can walk all over me. Dom or not!

  Don’t forget you’re playing the role of a submissive, Jordan. You’re supposed to fall at his feet when he snaps his fingers.

  Jordan irritably pushed aside the internal soliloquy. Now wasn’t the time to ponder what she’d been struggling with since she’d walked into Club Devil’s Cove.

  Somehow, playing at being a sub had become an unspeakable desire to please this compelling Dom. She wanted to offer him her submission. She was still shaken at what had slipped from her mouth earlier, especially when she realized it had come from deep within her. It was the truth—she craved Jack Blackmore’s domination.

  “Good, Kitty,” Jack praised. He started walking, tugging on the chain when it tightened. “Do you need a little inspiration from my crop to keep moving, sub?” he asked dryly but didn’t slow or shorten his long strides.

  Jordan stubbornly kept her lips pressed shut. The hard surface of the floor wasn’t kind to her knees and it was difficult to concentrate on not getting the skin scuffed as she scrambled after him.

  Crack! Crack!

  “Oww! Fucking hell, Master Black,” she shrieked indignantly at the unexpected delivery of the burning sting from the crop on her exposed ass.

  “You claim to be an experienced sub and yet you constantly defy the most basic expectations in here.”

  Jack leaned closer. His breath was warm against her cheek as he stared into her eyes. At such close range it was disconcerting—the way those black orbs probed deep—like he was searching for answers she didn’t know the questions for.

  “I’m not going to remind you again, Emerald. In here, when I ask you a question, no matter how inconsequential you may believe it to be, you will answer. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Sir, as clear as Bohemian crystal, Sir.”

  Jack felt the smile tug at the corners of his mouth. The acerbic tone, combined with the thinly veiled anger on the emphasis she placed on Sir was almost endearing.

  Almost, but not quite.

  His trial sub was going to be the subject of many hours of fun to come. For once, Jack was looking forward to sparring with a submissive who was completely under his control and who he called his own. Not that he scoffed at the honor. Every man worthy of calling himself a Dom knew that accepting such an offer from a submissive was nothing to be taken lightly. But Emerald, aka Jordan Clark, would soon realize she wasn’t going to be the one calling the shots in their relationship.

  Not that there was a relationship, or ever going to be one, Jack was quick to remind himself.

  Oh, no. I’m out to expose her for the fraud she is. Soon, I’ll know exactly what she’s after.

  “Do not slow me down again, my pet. I’m late as it is.” He started down the stairs leading into the dungeon and stopped to tug on the chain. “Up you go, kitten. You may walk down the stairs. I wouldn’t want those pretty knees getting hurt.”

  Jordan was annoyed enough to defy him—much to her own detriment, of course.

  “Ooh, no, Master Black. A kitty can’t walk on two legs. It would be a sin against the feline species,” she cooed. She pushed her ass higher and carefully scuttled on hands and feet down the stairs, deliberately adding an elaborate swing to her hips as she preceded him. She bit back a delighted giggle when she detected a strangled sound exploding from his lips as he followed her down. She seductively wiggled her hips a couple of times for added emphasis before she continued to crawl toward the whipping chamber. Her cheeks were glowing red as she realized that a couple of the Senior Masters were watching her shenanigans with amusement. She did her best to ignore them as she moved past them.

  This time, the kitten led and the master followed. Jack’s eyes were glued to the enticing and sexy as hell heart-shaped buttocks that screamed at him to fuck her.

  “What do you say, Keon? Think Master Black bit off more than he can chew?” Rhone asked in a loud whisper. He smiled broadly as Jack’s eyes shot daggers at him.

  “Yeah, he appears a little frazzled. I can’t recall that I’ve ever seen such a pinched look on his face before,” Keon said with a serious look on his face.

  “Pinched look, my ass. Master Black is squeezing his nuts to keep from pounding into that kitty’s inviting ass,” Bruce interjected.

  “Fuck off, all of you. This little kitty is asking for a serious spanking for continually sassing me,” Jack grumbled in passing but he couldn’t deny that all three comments hit the nail on the head. He had a hard-on of note that grew with every blatant defiance of his sub.

  My sub. He rolled the words on his tongue. He liked the feel of it. More than that, he liked the rush of possessiveness and appreciation he experienced for her beauty and sensuality.

  What the fuck, Jack? Where did that come from? You’re not made for relationships. You know that. Get your fucking head out of the clouds.

  “I think we should tag along, mates. This is going to turn into an interesting evening, after all,” Lance quipped.

  Jack didn’t respond. He was too involved with the struggle of understanding and compartmentalizing the feelings Jordan Clark awakened inside him.

  Lust, Jack. That’s all it is. Fuck her and get her out of your mind. That’s what you need to do. Yep, fuck her pussy and that delightful ass and it’ll be done and dusted.

  With the decision made, he squared his shoulders and sped up to walk ahead of Jordan. He might be able to gain control over his thoughts and his fucking wayward testosterone if he didn’t have to stare at her pink pussy and the inviting crack between her ass cheeks all the time—naked of course—benefit of the red, strappy leather panties.

  Yeah, as if that helped any. He still couldn’t get the sight of her ass stuck high in the air as she took the stairs on all fours. His breath once again got stuck in his throat at the visual that had been burned into his mind.

  “About time you pitched up, Master Black,” Ethan said. He handed him the bright red CM band, which Jack slipped over his bulging bicep. Ethan’s eyes dropped to the pretty blonde who was rubbing her cheek against Jack’s leg. “And who is this little kitten?”

  Jack glanced down. His gaze narrowed as Jordan wrapped her arms around his leg and purred up at him. Her lips pursed into an inviting pout. His lips flattened into a thin line. He wasn’t into pet play as a rule. The only reason he’d decided on it was to push her boundaries. To show her from the beginning what she was getting herself into. But he couldn’t deny how his heart warmed at the serene look on her face. He frowned. He could’ve sworn she wasn’t a real submissive. That she’d been playing an elaborate part to gain his attention.

  Yet, at this very moment, she was all submissive. Offering her body, heart, and soul with those fluttering eyelashes that
fanned over her cheeks.

  “This is Emerald. My sub.”

  Ethan choked on his breath. “You’re what?”

  Jack’s face turned thunderous. All his friends were aware of his history and that he vehemently stayed away from any woman who even hinted at wanting more than a quick fuck.

  “Don’t hurt yourself, Master Apollo. It’s a temporary arrangement.” He looked at Jordan. “What did you call it again, my pet?”

  “A trial, Master Black,” she snapped, irritated that he kept harping on the fact that it wasn’t a real D/s arrangement.

  “A trial,” Ethan said slowly. He looked between the two. A smile formed on his lips as he detected the flare of annoyance in Jordan’s eyes. “I imagine the other subs aren’t too happy about that, Master Black.”

  “Nothing changes, mate. It’s not an exclusive agreement. I will scene and fuck whoever I wish.”

  “As may Emerald, I imagine,” Ethan taunted, watching with interest as a deep line slashed between Jack’s brows.

  “As long as she remembers my rule.”

  “What rule?” Jordan looked at him in confusion. So far, no rules had been mentioned.

  He looked her up and down. Every inch his eyes touched sizzled in its wake. “You have given yourself and your body into my care.” He pinned her with a look as sharp as a knife edge. “Even though it’s a trial, no man touches what you have freely offered as mine unless he has my permission first,” Jack grunted in a dark voice which brought a wide smile to Ethan’s face.

  Somehow, he had the feeling it wasn’t something the mighty Master Black intended giving easily—if at all. He wasn’t any different than any of them. Once you called a sub yours, that was it, the possessive streak took over. He’d seen the glint in Jack’s eyes already.

  “Anyone I need to look out for, Master Apollo?” Jack glanced around the dungeon. His expression made it clear that the topic wasn’t up for further discussion.

  “So far everyone is well behaved. Just keep an eye on those two young Doms in the corner. They’re not very experienced and might hurt a sub in their eagerness to prove themselves.”

  Jack nodded as he marked the two young Doms with a penetrating glance. “Did you invite them to join the Dom’s classes?”

  “I have and they’ve already signed up to start next week. They’re very eager to learn.” Ethan turned to wrap his arms around Paige, his fiancé, who had just arrived. “Ready for our scene, baby?”

  “Yes, my Master. It’s been too long since we’ve played with the violet wand.”

  “So it has. Well, good luck, Master Black. I’ve got some electricity to ignite.” Ethan winked at him and walked off with Paige by his side.

  Jack’s heart skipped a beat as he watched them go. It had been so long since he’s had that intimate connection with a woman. Too long. Having shut his mind and heart from any emotions didn’t help.

  He looked around. Rhone and Samantha gazed at each other. They had made up, but their path was still rocky at best. Keon hugged Lauren in front of him, his hands folded protectively around her small protruding belly. Their first baby was on the way.

  And then Max and Joanne, Jack’s sister, arrived to add salt to the wound. They laughed and joked as they approached. The love and happiness they shared were like an invisible thread that bound them together, stronger than anything Jack had ever witnessed, especially since they were also expecting their first child.

  That was what he wanted—what his sister and best friend had. The desire for a child had been growing since he’d been on protective detail to keep the daughter of a senator safe. She was a teenager already but the bond he’d formed with her at the time had made him regret that he might never be a father.

  In the middle of his circle of friends, loneliness enveloped him. Lately, it had become like a vice on his heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant pain. It killed him every day just a little bit more, taking what was once his inner light and replacing it with a darkness that overshadowed each happy moment. That threatened to pull him into a dark void where there was only him. It had become the fuel of his dreams, the reason he struggled to go to bed at night.

  Where was the limit? Had he reached it now? Had he finally arrived at the edge of accepting that the life he had been living was nothing but an empty shell? That locking his soul from emotions had turned him into a hermit who never allowed anyone but his friends inside the walls of his home, let alone his heart.

  If only he could believe in love again. If only he hadn’t―

  Stop dreaming, Jack. Life doesn’t revolve around if only.

  A painful shriek from the corner of the whipping chamber yanked Jack back to the present. His jaw turned rigid as he noticed the bloody streak over the buttocks of the sub tied to a Saint Andrew’s cross.

  “Let’s go, my pet,” he prodded Jordan as he started toward the trio with long strides. The young Dom was visibly shaken as he gently tried to soothe the sobbing young woman.

  “Let her down,” Jack said. The sharp edge to his voice spurred the two young men into action. Jack picked up the sub and placed her face down on one of the sofas along the wall. He examined the dark red streak over her soft cheeks. She whimpered at his brief touch. “Easy there, little one.”

  He loosened the chain from his belt. “Please go and find Master Apollo, Emerald. I need him to attend to her.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Jordan quickly made her way to the examination room where Ethan was scening with Paige. She did her best to hide the horror that caused a constant tremor to run through her body. She’d been flogged and spanked as punishment but never with more than medium intensity. The thought of being subjected to a whip had always made her cringe. Witnessing the damage that an untaught hand could cause, made up her mind. Whipping became a hard limit in that short trip to find Ethan.

  She followed him and Paige back to the whipping chamber and stood watching silently as he and Jack attended to the sub. Their tenderness and care left her reeling. She’d often witnessed how the powerful Senior Masters of the club punished their subs, but the aftercare they gave to them had left a lump in her throat. They didn’t hide their love and dedication to the women they’d claimed as their own. Now, they offered the same gentleness even though they had no part in her distress.

  She wasn’t surprised to notice how the young Doms cringed in front of Jack when he turned to them while Ethan and Paige guided the sub from the dungeon.

  “Was this a punishment, Dom Sam?” His voice was low and grating. Jordan could detect the anger that still vibrated in the deep tone.

  The taller of the two men stepped forward. He shook his head. “No, it was supposed to be an erotic whipping. I don’t know how it happened, Master Black. I’ve practiced so well and I’ve never caused any of the trainee subs pain.”

  “Show me.”

  Sam blinked in confusion. “Excuse me, Master Black?”

  “Pick up the whip and show me your swing, Dom Sam. I want to see your grip.”

  Sam took the whip his friend handed to him. He looked around with a small frown, not sure what he was supposed to aim at. Jack gestured toward the St. Andrew’s cross.

  “Use the cross.”

  Sam flicked the whip a couple of times. He spread his legs and pulled back his arm. The long tail of the whip slashed through the air as he swung it forward.

  “Who trained you, Dom Sam?” Jack asked with a heavy sigh.

  “I … no one, Master Black. I’ve been training using video clips.”

  “Of a farmer using his whip on cattle?” Jack’s voice boomed to the rafters. Jordan took a step back in the wake of the anger that emanated from him. Sam flinched and hung his head.

  “The action of using a whip on a sub, whether it is for an erotic scene or punishment, is in the flick of the wrist, Dom Sam. You never use your arm to bring the whip to the front. Here, let me show you.”

  Jack took the whip, spread his legs wide and started flicking the whip back and
forth. His movements were fluid, the flick of his wrist barely visible but the constant snap of the leather as it gently touched the cross was testimony to his expertise. He turned a reproaching glare at the young Dom.

  “You never use an impact tool you aren’t fully capable of handling, Dom Sam. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Master Black. I’ve already signed up for the training classes.”

  “Would you demonstrate an erotic whipping scene for us, Master Black?” Dom Carl, the other young man, asked with an eager glint in his eyes. The way Jack had handled the whip was like a poem to a poet.

  “Very well.”

  Jack turned to Jordan. His gaze narrowed as she retreated and hid behind the bulky body of Keon. She peeked around his shoulder at him, her eyes wide and fearful.

  “Come here, Emerald.”

  She shook her head. Her expression said it all: There was no fucking way she was getting on that cross.

  No fandangling way, José!

  “I don’t like to repeat myself, sub. Get your cute little butt over here.” His voice deepened and the submissive inside her, which she would deny existed to death, reacted instinctively. Before she realized she’d moved, she stood next to Jack.

  She peeked at him, wringing her hands as she kept shooting surreptitious glances toward the St. Andrew’s cross. Suddenly, it had turned into a serpent, winking at her from the gates of hell.

  Jack’s fist under her chin tilted back her head, forcing her gaze to his.

  “You’re my sub, Emerald, by your own choice, which means I’ll do all demonstrations with you.”

  Her head moved back and forth. “I ... not the whip,” she croaked.

  Jack searched her expression. His assumption had been correct. She was terrified.

  “Have you had a bad experience with a whip before, Emerald?” His voice had softened and flowed over her like the warmth from a sip of bourbon to the belly.

  Jordan seriously considered lying but the intense way he was staring at her, warned her not to. He would see right through her. She wasn’t that apt a liar.