The Dom's Rules: A Dark Contemporary BDSM Romance (The Pleasure Wars Book 2)

by Harper West

  But Killian just shook his head. "Not tonight. It's different when it's in front of a crowd of people. Plus, you've never done anything like that before."

  I rolled my eyes. I was doing that a lot. "Heaven forbid I embarrass you."

  "Ash, do you want to play or not?"

  "No," I said firmly.

  "Then why does it matter?"

  I scrunched up my face like a kid about to have a tantrum and then sighed, looking away from him. "It doesn't, I guess."

  "Then we're in agreement."

  "So what are we going to do for the rest of the night if we're not playing?"

  "You're not playing," he said. "I plan to find a more willing partner and put on a show before the New Year rolls in."

  Something uncomfortable twisted in my stomach, and as much as I wanted to convince myself it was the salmon puffs, I knew what it really was.

  I remembered a couple months ago when he'd played with someone else while I wasn't there and it had made me feel the same, hot under the collar and unhappy.

  It shouldn't have mattered. I didn't love Killian and he wasn't mine. Our marriage was one of mutal convenience, and even the sex we had was worked into our contract. There was nothing about exclusivity when it came to anything, and I had no right to feel any kind of way about him playing with another woman.

  I couldn't decide if it was better or worse for it to happen right there in front of me. I'd be able to see everything that was going on, which would keep my mind from wandering and making things worse than they were, but at the same time, I'd have to watch them do... whatever they were going to do.

  Things Killian usually did to me. I hated them, but there was a part of me that felt slighted. Which was stupid considering I'd been given a chance to step up and be the one he played with that night.

  Ugh. My brain was so unhelpful. I shoved the feeling down, keeping them locked up with all the other shit I didn't want to deal with and picked up a glass of champagne from a passing server, careful not to look to see how much skin she was exposing.

  "Are you going to be alright?" he asked me, looking like he actually meant the question.

  I nodded. "Why wouldn't I be? I'll just. Find somewhere to sit. Or stand. Eat more salmon puffs. You know."

  "You don't want to watch?" he asked, arching that eyebrow again.

  I made a face. "No, I don't want to watch. I think I know enough about how it works to get the picture, thanks."

  Killian just shrugged. "Suit yourself." And then he was gone, slipping between the curtains to the back where there was who knew what set up.

  I glanced around the room, wondering which one the glittery, beautiful women was going to agree to be his submissive for the night. Surely a good number of them leaned that way, and from a purely objective point of view, I could admit Killian was handsome and good enough with his hands that they would have a good time with him. If they were into that sort of thing.

  Which I wasn't.

  Which was why I was staying on the other side of the curtains with the alcohol and the food where it was safe. Well. Safer.

  My resolve held out for all of about fifteen minutes, and in my defense, it only really cracked because I was bored. There were only so many salmon puffs and little shrimp toasts I could eat before my stomach started to complain.

  I did a lap around the ballroom, giving the curtained area a wide berth, and then sighed when there was nothing else to do.

  I could hear laughter and clapping coming from the curtains, and boredom and curiosity got the better of me, so I went to peek in.

  I couldn't see much past the cluster of people, so I slipped in, letting the heavy velvet curtains close behind me.

  Chapter 8

  Ash

  There was a much smaller gathering of people in this section, and everyone had eyes on the front. Where a small stage had been set up.

  What I was coming to recognize as the usual bondage devices were set up, a bench, a large X, and a cross. Someone was already bent over the bench, his pants pushed down around his hips to expose his plugged ass to the crowd. I couldn't see his face, and that was probably for the best.

  On the X was a beautiful woman with curly brown hair. A blindfold covered her face, and there was a bright red ball gag pulled tight in her mouth, keeping her quiet.

  Her dress was open at the bodice, revealing her full breasts, and I blushed in spite of myself, my own modesty taking over.

  To the side of her was Killian, so clearly this was the woman he'd chosen to play with for the night.

  They looked good together, I had to admit. Her soft gold dress stood out against his dark suit, and when he reached up to push her hair back out of her face, she leaned into the touch.

  "He's amazing, isn't he?" someone said to my left, and I turned to see another woman standing there. She was wearing a collar and a red dress, and her eyes were locked on the stage.

  "Uh, sure," I said. I couldn't just go around telling people what a pain in the ass he was, I guessed.

  "I've always wanted to play with him. I see him at the club a lot, and he's always in high demand."

  "Is he," I said, not really caring to hear the answer. I mean, of course he was. Killian was handsome and rich and apparently well known in the kinky weirdo circles. Of course, there were women who were eager to get with him where they could.

  The woman next to me nodded enthusiastically and looked over at me finally. "Oh," she said, frowning a little. "You're Ashlyn, aren't you?"

  I blinked and then nodded. I wasn't sure if I'd been introduced to her during the mingling portion of the evening, since I'd just sort of spaced out while Killian was talking. I couldn't remember anyone's name that I'd met, and hopefully that wouldn't come back to bite me in the ass.

  "Yeah. Uh. Yes. That's me."

  "I've heard about you from my friend who's here tonight," she said. "You're Killian's partner."

  Well, at least the word was getting around, too. "That's me," I said.

  "I think we all assumed that meant he was taken."

  I shook my head. "Nope. He's free to do whatever he wants. There's nothing exclusive about our... partnership." That was the best way I knew how to put it.

  The woman smiled. "Wow, you're a better person than I am. If I had my hands on Killian Abernathy, I wouldn't let anyone get close to him. But maybe that's territorial of me."

  "I mean. To each their own or whatever," I said, shrugging.

  "I'm Eve, by the way," she said, smiling and holding out her hand for me to shake. "I'm sorry I've just been standing here gushing without introducing myself."

  "It's fine," I said. "Nice to meet you."

  She seemed level headed, even if she was stuck on Killian. I guessed I couldn't blame her for that. There were a lot of things to like about him if you could get past all the things that were annoying as hell about him.

  "So, did you two meet at the club?" Eve asked.

  Clearly we were just going to keep talking about it. "No, we met in a coffee shop, actually," I told her. "And then he started stalking me."

  "Wow, you're lucky. If he actually cared enough to pursue you, then you must be something special. It's not like he's hurting for prospects."

  "I think it's just because I wasn't interested in him to begin with," I said. "He doesn't like hearing no."

  She looked at me like I had just blown her mind, and I knew it wasn't about Killian not wanting to be told no. Apparently it was so farfetched that someone wouldn't be interested in him that she had never considered it was possible.

  I wanted to roll my eyes and tell her there was more to life than just being handsome and rich and she needed to up her standards, but then there was the sharp sound of the crack of leather echoing through the space, and we both turned our attention back to the makeshift stage.

  Killian was in full Dom mode already, sleeves rolled up and his jacket tossed somewhere else. The woman on the cross looked like she was trembling, but even from back where I was sta
nding, I could tell it wasn't with fear.

  Even gagged and blindfolded, she looked excited and eager, and I tried to ignore the boiling feeling in my gut.

  I didn't want to be up there. I didn't want to be tied down and used in front of a crowd. It sounded horrible and degrading in the worst way. I didn't see how anyone could want that, and yet I was standing there watching Killian wield a flogger and I was jealous.

  I could admit it to myself in that moment. I was jealous she had his attention and he was putting all that narrow-eyed focus onto her.

  He didn't even know her. I doubted they'd exchanged names, considering she was bound and gagged, but then, she probably already knew who he was.

  Everyone apparently knew who he was, the rich and wonderful Killian Abernathy who women would sell their left kidney to get spanked by.

  It was stupid, honestly.

  But I couldn't look away.

  I folded my arms and watched as he circled the cross, taking his time. He didn't have access to her back, since it was pressed against the wood of the cross, but that didn't seem to bother him at all.

  He already looked like he had a plan.

  The woman's dress was designed in way that gave him other real estate to work the flogger on, and he started with her breasts, caressing them lightly with the leather of the flogger, dancing the strands over her skin until she was arching up against her bonds, clearly looking for more.

  I knew he wouldn't give it to her. Not yet. He was too much of a tease for that. The dance of it got him off, and he was going to make her wait.

  It felt like everyone had bated breath while they watched, reacting when the sub did, gasping softly as he kept teasing, working her up higher and higher until finally he cracked the flogger over her breasts.

  Her cry was muffled by the gag, but it was clear to hear for everyone standing there. She jerked in her bonds, clearly startled by the sudden pain, but she wasn't afraid of more.

  Killian let her have it. He worked the flogger in sweeping arcs, bringing it down again and again on the soft flesh of her chest.

  He moved down every once in a while, hitting her between the legs and on her thighs before moving back up to her chest and shoulders, making sure to cover all the ground he could.

  His form was probably perfect, and he didn't even seem to be breaking a sweat. The bulge in his pants was obvious, and the woman on the cross was just as worked up, gasping and making begging, pleading sounds behind her gag.

  It was sensual and hot, even I had to admit that. The crowd was loving it, and I knew plenty of them would be going home with their partners to recreate the scene or use the energy from it for their own play.

  I gritted my teeth and tried not to be bitter. I didn't know what was wrong with me. The last thing I wanted was to be in that woman's place. Being flogged in front of a crowd sounded horrible, but I wanted something. I needed something.

  Eve was still next to me, and she was still wide eyed and staring. Her lips were parted, and she looked like she was a step away from rushing the stage and trying to get Killian to agree to do it to her next.

  Most of the women in the crowd were probably the same, whether they had partners or not.

  It was obvious the submissive woman was teetering on the edge of an orgasm, and we all watched to see what Killian would do. He could leave her on edge, make her humiliate herself in front of the crowd before he gave her what she wanted, or he could indulge her.

  He chose the latter, focusing his strikes on her crotch, working her up higher and higher.

  Her desperate, garbled pleas got louder and no one needed to be able to understand what she was saying to know what was happening. She was close, and every hit was just bringing her closer.

  Finally, Killian hit her in just the right spot, and she went rigid, freezing in place. And then she jerked hard, and nearly screamed into her gag, and it was clear from the liquid we could all see running down her legs that she had just had an explosive orgasm.

  She shook and twisted in her restraints, body riding out the convulsions until she was spent and ended up hanging loosely in the bonds, chest heaving as she breathed hard.

  The room erupted into clapping, like they had just watched some moving piece of theater, and I was pretty sure there was someone near me who was sniffling back tears.

  I just stood there, rooted to the spot, eyes on the woman. She seemed to be trying to put herself back together, and I wondered if anyone was going to help her.

  Of course, Killian didn't just leave her there. He took a small bow and grinned at the crowd and then put his back to them, focusing on the woman.

  Gently he helped her down from the cross, murmuring softly to her. It struck me that he hadn't talked all that much at all during the whole... performance, if you could call it that. He'd just been quiet, focused on her.

  When it was the two of us, he couldn't shut up. It was always taunting and dirty talking and teasing. But here he'd been focused on getting every hit precise and teasing reactions out of her with his flogger and not his mouth.

  I watched while he massaged her wrists and took the blindfold off, helped her ease the gag out of her mouth. She was smiling in a soft, timid way, and he smiled back before handing her off to someone else, presumably the person she'd come there with.

  She looked exhausted but so happy, and that twist in my stomach was back.

  Eve sighed dreamily next to me, and it jerked me out of my thoughts. "She's so lucky. That was amazing. I'd give anything to experience something like that."

  I didn't know what to say in response, so I just shrugged. "I'm sure he's always looking for volunteers." It sounded bitter, and I moved away from her before she could question me.

  Suddenly, all I wanted was to go home. I wanted to take the stupid dress off and hang it in the back of my closet where I never had to look at it again.

  At least next year I would be free from this arrangement, and I wouldn't have to come to the ball. Killian could have as many partners as he wanted and he could do whatever he wanted, and everyone would be happy.

  Chapter 9

  Killian

  I always felt good after the ball. There was something amazing about plying my trade on stage in front of like-minded people and being a part of someone's experience. The woman I'd flogged that night was beautiful and responsive, and being able to get her off with just the flogger was incredible.

  She was clearly well-trained, and she was so grateful for the experience after.

  It took some time for me to make my way back to Ash after that. People wanted to stop and chat, to ask me for recommendations of toys and techniques, and since that was one of the reasons I'd come in the first place, I stopped and talked with them.

  When I got back out to the main part of the ballroom, Ash was leaning against a wall, nursing a glass of champagne and looking sour.

  "You look like you're ready to go home," I told her.

  She shot me a look that could have cut glass. "What was your first clue?" she snapped.

  I lifted an eyebrow. Her mood was a lot worse than it had been when I'd left her. "How many glasses of that have you had?" I asked her.

  "None of your business."

  "It's my business if you get too drunk and embarrass me," I shot back.

  She just glared. "Don't worry. Anything stupid I do will only look bad on me. You're the precious golden boy of this place. You can do no wrong. They'll all think you're such a saint for putting up with someone like me, and the women will line up to throw their panties at you and bend over for your flogger."

  I could hear the bitterness in her tone, and a few things clicked into place. "You watched me work, I see," I said, folding my arms and smirking at her.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "You were in there." I jerked my head towards the curtained off section. "You saw me playing with that woman and you were jealous." I grinned at her outright.

  I'd had my suspicions when I'd played with someone else
before and Ash had seemed off about it, but this was pretty concrete proof.

  "I am not jealous," she snapped. "Why do I care who you play with?"

  "I don't know why you care," I replied. "Especially considering I gave you the option first and you turned it down."

  "I didn't want to be up there," she said, and that sounded like the truth.

  "Then why are you so drunk?"

  "Because the champagne is free, and I'm tired," she said, and some of the fight drained out of her.

  I frowned at her, standing there wondering what I was supposed to do with that. She made it clear how she felt about the things I did with other submissive and the things I did with her, and yet she was clearly jealous.

  She was hard to understand sometimes. She wanted things and didn't want to want them, apparently. I'd have to get to the bottom of it one day.

  "Come on then," I said. "I'll take you home."

  Ash just nodded, and I led her to my car.

  We didn't stay to count down to the new year, and when I was pulling away from her building later, after making sure she got inside in one piece, I noticed the time.

  Nine after midnight. "Happy New Year," I muttered to no one and drove home.

  It wasn't the first time Ashlyn had shown jealousy when I played with someone else. There was the time when I went to the club without her to work off some stress, and she'd seemed worked up about the idea that someone else had been in the position she was usually in those days.

  It was interesting, considering how she swore up and down she hated the things we did and didn't want to be doing them. Yet anytime I did them with someone else, I got attitude.

  It was just very interesting, and I spent the first official day of the new year thinking about it.

  I texted her to make sure she wasn't a hungover mess, and her replies were curt and short, which made me think she was either very hungover, still upset with me, or both.