Chapter 3
HARPER
You should let me show you.
I never would have guessed that a handful of words could have such an effect on me. Of course, it isn’t just the words. It’s everything else, too—his voice, the solid sturdiness of his body leaning in towards me. The way he holds my gaze, those fiery blue eyes intense and hungry.
God, the way he looks at me. It frightens and excites me in equal measure.
Something inside, some deep primal survival instinct is warning me to move, to go, to run.
So why am I leaning closer? Why do I feel suddenly desperate to let him show me everything this place has to offer? Everything he has to offer.
I feel a rush of warmth on my hand and look down to see him taking it again, his palm dwarfing mine as he entwines our fingers.
And just like that, the decision is made for me.
I’ll follow this man wherever he wants to take me, so long as he keeps that hand wrapped around mine.
As long as I can feel his warm skin pressed into mine.
“Okay,” I whisper, looking again into his eyes. He’s smiling now, more like a smirk, and I get the feeling he predicted my agreement before I said a word.
My eyes flick over to the steel door at the back of the space.
The door is as conspicuous as it is plain, stark and gleaming amongst the lush fabrics and dark woods of the club.
It looks out of place here, industrial and cold in the midst of old world luxury.
According to Andres, the host who had shown me in, most of the scenes take place through that door.
So I’m surprised when Nate turns in the opposite direction, away from the back rooms.
“I need a refill first,” he says, his hand moving to my back, gentle pressure guiding me across the floor towards the bar. “And you need a drink.”
I swallow, wondering what, exactly, we might see that will require I drink liquor first.
“Another Macallan, sir?” the bartender asked, reaching for an empty glass.
“Yes, please, Keith,” Nate says. “The same for the lady.”
He nods before turning to pull a bottle from the shelf behind him.
Nate tilts his head down towards me and when he speaks his voice is a shade more commanding.
“Always limit yourself to two drinks here.” I meet his gaze, curious, and he smiles slightly.
“The hosts won’t allow you to participate in scenes if you appear intoxicated.
But even as an observer, it’s important that you keep your wits about you in this environment. ”
His eyes flash down at me. “That is, of course, if you decide to come back here.”
I have no idea how to respond to that, but the bartender is sliding our drinks back across the counter and I’m relieved to have something to do with my hands. I’m feeling increasingly fidgety as my nervousness grows.
“Relax,” Nate says, his hand back at my waist. “You’re in charge here, Harper. Always remember that. You can leave at any time. No one will pressure you or force you or hurt you in any way.”
I let his words sink in, my confidence ramping up a little. I straighten my shoulders and I can practically feel the grin on his lips when he bends down to whisper in my ear. “Unless, of course, pain is what you want.”
I swallow, a hot throb of need hitting me straight in the gut. How does he do that? Turn me on so much with just his voice, just the nearness of him?
He chuckles softly, guiding me away from the bar. “Let’s go.”
As we start across the room, my heart pounds harder. Am I nervous or excited? I can’t even tell anymore—the two emotions are so intertwined in this place.
“A few rules if you’re going through that door with me,” Nate says, his voice easy, like this is an everyday conversation. “It is unlikely anyone will address you so long as I’m with you. Even so, I would prefer you talk to no one. If you have questions, ask me.”
He doesn’t want me to talk to anyone else? That seems strange to me. I assumed these people are his friends. “Why?”
His lips tighten slightly, and I get the distinct impression he’s annoyed by my question. Then he smooths the irritation from his face. “If you’re with me, I’ll feel responsible for you.”
Well, that doesn’t really explain anything. Before I can question him further, he goes on. “What you see on the other side of that door might feel overwhelming. Just remember, you’re under no pressure. Look around. Satisfy your curiosity. And if anything bothers you, tell me.”
There’s care in his voice, I realize. However strange his rules might seem to me, he genuinely seems to be looking out for me. For that reason, I nod.
Nate meets my gaze, the dark promise in his eyes sending a shiver through me. “If anything appeals to you, you can tell me that, too.”
My legs are practically shaking as we reach the door, and I try to take comfort from his arm around me. He’s so large and sturdy, his body warm. I could lean on this man, I realize. I could lean on him and he’d hold me up. He wouldn’t let me fall, this stranger beside me.
Nate pushes open the door, leading me into a long, dimly lit hallway, plain wooden doors scattered on each side. “We’ll start here,” he murmurs, gesturing at the first door on our right. He’s smirking. “A good primer—the perfect room for beginners.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about but my mouth is now way too dry to respond.
I follow him through and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness.
The room is narrow and long and I have the impression of many people filling the space, though it’s still difficult to see.
As the scene begins to come together, I take in a sharp breath.
It isn’t just people that I had sensed. It’s couples. And several of them are naked and moving together.
“You okay?” Nate whispers.
I let out a shaky breath. “This is what you call a primer?”
He laughs, the sound low in my ear. “This is positively tame. Just wait until you see some of the other rooms.” He nods towards a couch on the other side of the space. “Come on. Let’s go watch.”
It’s slightly less crowded on this side of the room, quieter.
But we’re far from alone. There’s a couple, a man and woman, sitting on the couch.
And directly in front of them, spread out on the floor, is another pair.
As we get closer, as my eyes continue to adjust to the darkness, I take in what I’m watching.
It isn’t a couple on the floor. It’s actually three people, a man and two women. And all of them are completely naked.
My eyes are immediately drawn to the woman on her back.
She’s stunning. Her breasts are on the small side, but perky with perfect pink nipples.
Her brown hair is spread out behind her, a silky crimson blindfold covering her eyes.
Her hands are above her head, bound with the same silky material of her blindfold.
The second woman, a redhead, is kneeling before her, her fingers brushing between the blindfolded woman’s legs.
The man kneels behind the pair, lazily massaging his dick. “Slave, how would you like it if this slut licks your clit?” he asks.
I can’t stop the gasp from leaving my mouth. This is what Nate had called tame? I feel like I’ve just walked into the middle of a porno. Do people actually talk like this?
For the first time since Nate approached me, I seriously consider leaving.
I wanted to believe that I’m mature enough for this, that I could pass for sophisticated and experienced, even if I don’t feel it.
But this…this is so over the top. Am I seriously going to stand here and watch these strangers fuck?
As if sensing my panic, Nate squeezes my hand. “Remember what I told you,” he whispers. “You’re in charge.”
I nod, trying to find the power in his words, and force my eyes back to the woman with the blindfold.
“If it pleases you, Master,” the blindfolded woman says softly.
I somehow refrain from burying my face in Nate’s shoulder to hide my eyes. I can watch this. I try to remind myself about my academic curiosity but I know it’s bullshit. Academics has nothing to do with my presence in this room.
“Perfect answer,” the man says, moving so that he’s kneeling at the blindfolded woman’s head. He runs his hands through her hair, the movement slow, almost lazy, before moving his fingers down to brush across her shoulders and finally over her breasts.
“Go ahead,” he tells the second woman, the redhead. Even in the darkness I can see the excitement flash in her eyes as she moves to bend forward. And then she has her face buried between the blindfolded woman’s legs.
“How do you like that, slave?” The man asks softly, his fingers going to the blindfolded woman’s nipples.
My gaze zeroes in on that movement, at the way his fingers tighten and tug, the way her nipples harden in response.
I have the sense that they’ve done this before, that he knows her body and the way it will react.
“Oh, thank you, Master,” the woman gasps, her hips beginning to move erratically.
The man laughs. “Enjoy it, my pet. Master plans to work you over good later.”
“Are you okay?” Nate asks, and I tear my gaze away from the man’s fingers to look up at him. He’s watching my face, his expression unreadable.
“I…I think I need a moment.”
He nods, seeming unsurprised, and leads me further from the couch.
There’s a leather club chair several paces away and he pushes me down into it before kneeling in front of me, taking one of my hands in both of his, his fingertips gently running over my knuckles.
I find the gesture oddly comforting, a good deal of the uncertainty of the moments before easing out of me.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
I shake my head, unsure of how to put all the swirling thoughts in my head into words. “I just…I guess I’m overwhelmed.”
He nods. “Understandable. What exactly has you overwhelmed?”
“I wasn’t…I wasn’t expecting…” I glance back to the threesome. “They’re having sex.”
He chuckles a little, his eyebrows going up. “You do understand what kind of club this is?”
I smile sheepishly, my face coloring even further.
“Yes, of course. I suppose I didn’t expect it to be so…
overt.” I wasn’t exactly sure what I had pictured.
Maybe that the rooms would be smaller? More private.
I certainly hadn’t expected to see this, so many couples right out in the open, others milling about watching, commenting. Interacting.
“Or maybe,” he says, watching me closely, “seeing is different than imagining.”
I nod. “Yes. I think that’s part of it.”
He leans in closer to me. “Perhaps it would help if I explained what we’re watching?”
I have a feeling that won’t help at all. The very thought of him whispering dirty descriptions in my ear while we watch other people getting off sends a rush of desire to my center, so strong it’s almost painful. Nate is smirking at me, like he knows just what I’m thinking.
And, to my surprise, I find that I like the look of that smirk, as cocky as it is.
I like the promise it holds, like the idea that he can read me so well.
I think again of the way the man’s hands moved over the woman’s breasts, how confident he’d been in his actions, like he knew everything about her body and the way she would respond.
What would that be like, to know someone so carnally?
“Harper?”
“Yes,” I tell him, my eyes flicking back to the threesome. “It would help if you explained.”
Again, he leads me to the couch and this time I’m determined to do as he requested—watch and learn.
Slipping behind me, Nate wraps an arm around my middle, bringing his chin to rest on my shoulder, and I shiver at the contact.
His face feels slightly stubbled against the bare skin of my shoulder, his warm breath against my neck causing me to break out in goosebumps.
“People think this lifestyle is all about pain,” he says softly, and I have to work not to shudder at the low rasp of his voice in my ear. “But a dominant’s job is not necessarily to inflict pain. His job is control. He controls everything about his submissive, both her pain and her pleasure.”
I nod, my eyes on the blindfolded woman’s face. Even without seeing her eyes I can tell how close she is, her teeth gritted against a pleasure that looks all encompassing. “She won’t come until he commands it,” Nate explains.
That sounds cruel, unbearably frustrating, to not be able to come until someone allowed it. At the same time, I find the thought strangely appealing. To give yourself over to someone so fully.
“It takes so much trust,” Nate says, his voice almost reverent now. “Tied up in front of others, unable to move. Unable to even see. She has to trust him completely, with her body and her safety.”
I breathe out. “That’s kind of…it’s almost beautiful.”
I can feel his lips twisting up in a smile against my ear. “Exactly.”
Just as he speaks, the man in front of us removes the woman’s blindfold. Her eyes go straight to his, dark with desire and the strain of holding back. “You may come,” he says, his voice barely louder than a whisper. And she does, her master’s name on her lips.
“Beautiful,” Nate murmurs, slipping his arms out from around me. I nearly whimper at the loss of contact. But then he’s taking my hand again, leading me away from the couch. “Come. There’s so much more to see.”
I glance over my shoulder once, unwilling to take my eyes off them so soon, and see that the man is looking down at the woman—his submissive—with pride on his face. That expression warms me from the inside, the way he seems almost in awe of her. Him, the one with all the control.
Then we’re too far away to see them in the dark.
“The rest of this room will be more of the same,” Nate says as we pass a handcuffed woman giving a blowjob to her partner.
It takes me a moment to realize that she’s wearing a collar, and by then we’ve already passed them.
I swallow, the overwhelmed feeling thick in my chest. “We can stay and observe some more,” he continues.
“If you’d like. Or we could move on to something a little more… intense.”
I swallow. We’re standing approximately seven feet from a couple full out having sex on the floor, the woman riding the man while several people watch. And he wants to show me something more intense.
He stops to look down at me. “It’s up to you,” he reminds me, smiling. “It’s always up to you.”
Once again, his words have the effect of strengthening my resolve, giving me more confidence.
“I’d like to see whatever you want to show me.”
Nate’s grin is breathtaking. He looks so…pleased. Something about that expression has a thrill of pleasure rising in me.
I like pleasing him, I realize. I like it very much.