10. SAVANNAH
Chapter ten
SAVANNAH
S avannah's cheeks burned as she stepped back into the main bar, the lingering sensation of Blake's handprint still stinging her skin. The memory of her orgasm, just moments ago, threatened to send her legs buckling beneath her.
"Hey, you look like you could use a drink," a blonde woman called out from behind the bar, a teasing glint in her eyes. Savannah hoped beyond hope that nobody knew what she and Blake had just done.
"Sure," Savannah replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she approached the bar.
"Name's Rosie," she said, extending a hand. "What can I get for you?"
"Uh, just water, please," Savannah mumbled, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Rosie handed her a glass of ice-cold water, and Savannah took a grateful sip.
"So you’re here with Blake?" Rosie asked, leaning against the counter. She looked slightly older than Savannah, and her accent had a British twang to it. Her frilly red dress looked expensive, and her smoky eyes gave her an appearance of sophistication. She wore a red bow in her wavy blonde hair, which was the only thing that looked distinctly “Little” about her.
"Yup," Savannah admitted. "He’s, uh, looking after me."
Rosie nodded, looking over toward Nash. “Make sure he treats you well. Those Marks boys can be a little temperamental.”
Savannah didn’t want to pry, so she just nodded and sipped her water. Did she know something about Blake that Savannah didn’t? Or was that comment mainly aimed at Nash? Maybe there was history there.
“So,” said Rosie, “are you a Little? Not everybody who comes here is, so no judgment from me either way.”
Savannah felt her cheeks burn. “I . . . guess I am a Little. I just haven’t spoken about it much to anyone else before.”
"That’s awesome!" Rosie's eyes sparkled. “Congratulations on coming out! It’s sooo much better once you find some like-minded people you can be yourself around. I’m a Little too, by the way, if it wasn’t obvious.”
Savannah smiled. “The cute bow in your hair is a bit of a clue.”
Rosie laughed. “Sometimes I dress more Little than this . . . but today, I knew that Nash was coming in, so I wore something kinda sexy to pee him off.” She winked.
Okay. Interesting. There was some kind of history between the two of them.
“So, how old is your Little?” asked Rosie. “Mine is around seven. I think seven’s such a nice age, don’t you?”
Savannah swallowed. She really hadn’t thought about things in such depth before. Until a few days ago, she’d just enjoyed cuddling Mr. Whiskers and wearing her Little clothes, but she had never expected to share that side of herself with anyone. “I think my Little is younger than that,” she said quietly. Yeeshk, it wasn’t like her to be shy. Now, she felt like an embarrassed little kid.
“Oh, that’s so cool!” said Rosie. “In that case, you have to play in the nursery here. There are so many toys for young Littles. And I bet Blake would find it super cute to play with you sometime. He’s so protective, I bet he’d be amazing at looking after an itty bitty Little.” She clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oops. Not that I’m insinuating—”
“Don’t worry,” said Savannah. “I’m not offended. My relationship with Blake is purely professional, though.”
Blush, blush, blush.
“Oh, I see,” said Rosie, her gaze flicking over to the private BDSM room door. Which was still closed, with Blake behind it.
"Hey, now it's a party," Nash said, sliding onto a barstool beside Savannah. His eyes danced with mischief as he turned his attention to Rosie. "You serving drinks or just running your mouth, young lady?"
"Watch it, old man," Rosie shot back, a playful grin on her lips. "I could refuse to serve you if you’re rude to the staff members.”
“Don’t forget who pays your wages,” Nash replied, smirking at Rosie. Their gazes locked, and Savannah felt an electric charge in the air. The chemistry between them was undeniable. The change in Nash was evident, too. He had seemed so grumpy earlier, but now, around Rosie, he was like a dog with a bone.
“Where would you be without your favorite barmaid, though?” Rosie teased.
“Devastated,” Nash replied dryly. “I’d never find another one who talks back at me as much as you.”
Rosie laughed.
"Speaking of devastation, here comes Mr. Miserable," Nash announced, turning to look at Blake emerging from the BDSM room.
Savannah's pulse quickened as Blake emerged, his broad shoulders tense beneath his dark shirt. A scowl marred his handsome features, and she couldn't help but wonder if their encounter earlier had left him feeling as raw and exposed as she did. Her desire for him flared, threatening to consume her.
"Looks like someone's been having fun in there," Nash teased, raising an eyebrow at his brother. “Got a tip for you, though. BDSM normally works better when there’s two of you in that room, bro.”
A blush crept up Savannah's cheeks, and Rosie winked at her.
"Mind your own business," Blake grumbled, stalking over to join them at the bar.
"Lighten up, Blake," Rosie chimed in, pouring him a drink. "We're just having a little fun."
"Fun?" Blake muttered, taking a swig of his drink. "Never heard of it."
He glanced at Savannah, but she couldn’t read his expression. Then, he returned to his drink.
Savannah found herself wishing they could go back to the intimacy of the private room. But what would happen if they did? Would Blake ask her to leave again? Or would they take things even further this time . . .?
Just then, the main door of the Haven swung open, revealing a petite woman with long, dark hair. Her eyes darted around the room nervously.
Jax, who was sitting at a table near the door, looked up from his laptop and went over to her. He had a few quiet words with her and she looked over at Savannah and Blake, nodded, then headed over.
"Sadie, I presume?" Blake asked, his voice gruff but inviting.
Sadie nodded, her gaze flickering between him and Savannah.
"Let's talk somewhere more private," he suggested, leading them to a dimly lit booth tucked away in a corner of the bar.
As they slid into the worn leather seats, Savannah couldn't help but notice Sadie's trembling hands. She reached out and gently touched the woman's arm.
"Hey, it's okay. We're here to help," Savannah reassured her, offering a warm smile. “Would you like a glass of water?”
Sadie shook her head. "No thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the din of the bar. "I'm just . . . scared."
"Start at the beginning," Blake prompted, his tone firm but patient. "Tell us everything you know."
Sadie took a deep breath, her fingers twisting in her lap. "Well, as you know, I was taken to the Lucifer Club against my will. But I managed to escape.” She took a shaky breath. “I don’t know what they were planning on doing with me, but I was tied up in this back room. And then I saw . . .” She sniffed and then started to cry.
“Take your time,” said Savannah gently.
“I saw someone I knew,” Sadie replied. “I was kinda drugged at the time, but the second I saw him, it’s like I snapped back to my senses. I managed to wriggle out of my bonds and then I kicked a guy in the nuts and somehow, I got away.”
“Who did you recognize?” asked Blake.
Sadie rubbed her temples. “I grew up in foster care. It was . . . rough. My foster father was . . . not a good man."
Savannah felt her heart clench. A sudden realization hit her like a punch to the gut. "Wait . . . was your foster father named Marcus?"
"Y-yes," Sadie stammered, her eyes widening in surprise. "How did you—"
"God," Savannah breathed, anger and fear rising within her like bile. "He was my foster father, too." The tension in the room escalated, the air thick with shared trauma and unspoken questions.
"Damn," Blake muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched tight. "Okay, we need to figure out what he's up to now."
"Right," Sadie agreed, her voice wavering. "I'll tell you everything I know."
Blake's hand found Savannah's under the table, a silent anchor.
She squeezed it, grateful for the steady reassurance.
"It was eighteen months ago," Sadie said, taking a shaky breath. "On my sixteenth birthday, Marcus gave me this chocolate cupcake with pink icing. I didn't think much of it at the time, although it was unusual for him to give me a gift. I hoped he was making amends, but after eating it, I felt . . . strange. Disoriented. I hadn’t eaten anything else that day, so I knew it had to be the cake. Well, I went for a lie down in my room, and later that day, I woke up to find myself in the back of a strange car, being taken to this club. I was super groggy though, and I kept passing out. It was only after I’d escaped I saw it was the Lucifer Club."
Savannah's heart raced, her anger mounting. She couldn’t believe Marcus was behind any of this. He’d seemed like an asshole, yes. A bad guy? Definitely. But responsible for kidnapping and selling troubled teens? It was hard to believe.
"Can you think of any connection between the club and your foster father?" Blake pressed, his grip on Savannah's hand tightening.
"Marcus ran errands for the club owner sometimes," Sadie whispered. "He'd disappear for hours in the night."
As the pieces fell into place, Blake paled. "Damn it," he muttered. "It's all connected."
"Connected? How?" Savannah asked, her voice barely audible.
"Chloe," Blake said, haunted pain flickering across his face. "She disappeared on her sixteenth birthday. I’d forgotten all about it, but she got a birthday cake delivered that morning, too. Told me she had some new fancy man who kept sending her expensive presents. We never found any proof of that and I always just assumed she’d bought the cake for herself but was too embarrassed to admit it."
"So . . Chloe, Mia, and Sadie were all taken by . . . Marcus?” Savannah asked.
"Fuck," Blake growled, his hand tightening around Savannah's. "Whatever role Marcus has been playing in all this, we have to stop him. And DeLuca. And all of them."
"Let's do it," Savannah agreed, determination coursing through her veins like wildfire. "Let's take down the whole damn Lucifer Club."
"Together," Blake added, his eyes locked on hers. The promise in his gaze was unbreakable.
"Yes," she replied, holding his stare. "Together."
Sadie's hands trembled as she fumbled with the strap of her purse, her gaze darting around the room. “I should go now,” she said. “I’m on my break at work. I work at a restaurant on the other side of the city. Don’t want anyone knowing I came here.”
"Sadie," Blake said, his voice low but firm. "We're going to make sure you get back to work safely."
"Thank you," Sadie whispered, relief washing over her face.
Blake caught Jax's eye from across the room and gestured for him to come over. "Jax, I need you to take Sadie back to work."
"Of course," Jax nodded, his expression serious. “I’ll set you up with some alerts, too, Sadie,” he said. “In case you need us at any point.”
Sadie nodded gratefully.
Just then, Nash approached, having eavesdropped on the conversation. "I'll go with them. I have some errands to run anyway."
Blake nodded.
As they prepared to leave, Rosie sauntered over with a mischievous grin on her face. "Aww, Nash, are you going so soon? How will I cope without your insults for the rest of the afternoon?"
Nash rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a small smirk. "You’ll find a way to get by without me, I’m sure."
While Nash and Rosie continued to exchange playful barbs, Savannah shook Sadie’s hand. “Thank you so much for coming here to chat to us,” she told Sadie. “You’re very brave.”
Sadie nodded. “So are you. Be safe, Savannah.”
“She will be,” said Blake with certainty.
Then, Sadie and the two Marks brothers left the bar.
As the door closed behind them, Savannah felt a mix of emotions swirling inside her—anger at the man who had hurt so many girls, determination to bring him to justice, and an undeniable connection with Blake that only seemed to grow stronger.
“What shall we do now?” Savannah asked Blake. “Should we go to the police?”
Blake shook his head. “No. I’ll pass those details on to Jax and he’ll run some searches. We’ll gather all the information we can on Marcus and DeLuca before we act. Knowledge is power.”
Savannah nodded. “So, until then . . .?” Her gaze darted back to the private BDSM room, and then she looked at the other two closed doors. “Maybe we could finish that tour?”
Blake gritted his teeth. "Let's get back to the safehouse," he said, his voice low and tense.
“Okay,” said Savannah quietly. “Whatever you think is best.”
***
Blake hadn’t said a word the whole way home. But the moment they entered the safehouse, and the door clicked shut behind them, he grabbed Savannah’s hand.
“Savvy,” he said. “What happened between us before . . . in that private room. I know we’re meant to be focusing on other stuff right now, but I can’t get it out of my head.”
Savannah glanced up at him. "Blake, I . . . I liked it."
A slow smile spread across Blake's face, softening his hardened expression. "Did you now?" he teased gently, his blue eyes locking onto hers.
"Yeah," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "A lot. Did you?”
Blake nodded. “You know I did, babygirl.” He pulled her close to him, his hands gripping her waist as he pulled her close. "Savannah," he growled. “You do something to me.”
She smiled. “Well, I think it was pretty clear what you did to me today.”
Blake pulled her even closer. “Fuck,” he murmured against her lips before pressing a tender, yet possessive kiss upon her mouth. “We’re not meant to be doing this. You’re vulnerable and I’m looking after you.”
Savannah shrugged. “There are more than one ways to look after someone. Besides, you’re kinda vulnerable yourself, you know, Blake. No harm in that. Makes us human.”
“I want to be human with you,” moaned Blake.
He kissed her again, and she melted into him, her body humming with desire. As their lips danced together, her thoughts swirled with the knowledge that she had found something precious and dangerous in Blake—a man who could protect her and unleash her deepest desires all at once.
When they finally broke apart, Savannah was out of breath. “I don’t care if we’re not meant to be doing this,” she said. “I want it.”
The dim light of the safehouse cast shadows on Blake's face. His blue eyes locked onto her with an intensity that made her literally weak at the knees.
"Be careful what you ask for, Savannah," he warned, his voice low and serious. "You might not be ready for the consequences."
She stood her ground. "I’m serious, Blake. All my life I’ve been made to feel like I couldn’t have the things I wanted. Family. Friends. Security. Well, I’m fed up of being denied things. I want you. I want to know what you’re like as a Daddy Dom. And I don’t want you to say no."
His eyes flickered with a storm of emotions—desire, protectiveness, and something darker that made her insides tremble with anticipation. She could feel the power radiating from him, an irresistible force that drew her in like a magnet.
"Damn it," he growled, pulling her into his arms and kissing her fiercely. The heat between them was explosive, searing through her body like wildfire. It was all-consuming, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation.
As they broke apart for air, Blake's grip on her tightened, his fingers digging into her hips. "After what I heard at the club today, I'm feeling more protective than ever," he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "I don't just want to look after you, Savannah. I want to own you, so that no one else can ever touch you again."
Savannah's heart raced, her mind reeling from the intensity of his words. Was it possible that this strong, powerful man could truly care for her so deeply? And could she trust him to lead her into the uncharted territory of her desires?
"Blake," she whispered, her voice trembling with vulnerability and longing. "I trust you. Please . . . show me what it means to be yours."
As his lips crashed down on hers once more, Savannah knew that she had crossed a threshold. The world outside the safehouse might be filled with danger and uncertainty, but within Blake's embrace, she found a sanctuary where she could finally be her true self— vulnerable, yet strong; protected, yet free.
Finally, Blake pulled apart from Savannah, his gaze dark with desire. "You asked for it then, babygirl."
"Asked for what?" she managed to whisper.
"For me to claim you," he replied, his voice low and commanding. "Right here. Right now."
She nodded, her pulse quickening. "Yes please." She paused, her heart swelling with a newfound sense of trust and vulnerability. "Daddy."
As the word left her lips, she saw something shift in Blake's eyes—a crack in his stoic facade, revealing a tenderness she hadn't seen before. It was as if by uttering that single word, she had unlocked a hidden part of him, one that yearned to care for her just as deeply as she desired to submit to him.
“Get on that couch, little one,” he said. “Daddy’s going to show you what it means to be his.”
“Yes, sir,” said Savannah. And she did as she was told.