Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Aria
“Ow! Goddammit, Beckett, that thing hurts!”
Up on a wooden stage, one of Lottie’s bridesmaids was locked into what appeared to be a set of stocks, naked as the day she was born, her red and welted ass on display for everyone to see.
Aria had never been so fascinated by anything in her life.
Flashing a wide, wicked grin, Beckett ran a hand over his fiancée’s ass. “You love it when I hurt you, Ruby Red.”
“That’s entirely beside the point right now–ow!”
Leather snapped against flesh, a unique and unfamiliar sound that had Aria’s pussy clenching in response.
She liked this, far more than she’d expected to when she’d talked Cordelia into sneaking her into the Club BDE afterparty.
As curious as she’d been about the club her father owned but kept her far, far away from, she hadn’t expected to have such a strong, ah, personal reaction to everything.
It was… interesting. And a little disconcerting, if she was being entirely honest with herself. She had no desire to let a man punish her for any damn thing, especially not in such a spectacularly public manner.
But watching it happen to someone else, well, that was another thing altogether, apparently.
A familiar laugh rose over the sound of the leather strap connecting with Ruby’s ass again, and Aria looked over at the stairs, horror welling in her chest.
What the fuck were her uncles doing here, walking around like they owned the place?
Oh. Right. They did own the place.
Goddammit.
If they saw her here, they’d drag her out before she had a chance to see all the things she’d come to see. And then they’d go tattle to her father, and he’d lose his mind.
Better for everyone if she just… disappeared for a bit.
Glancing to her right, she spotted Cordelia perched on a leather couch, Jacob on his knees on the floor beside her, spine straight and head high as she ran her fingers through his hair, petting him like one might a puppy.
Ivy was curled up beside her, glassy-eyed with need as Cordelia’s fingers moved beneath her dress.
Jesus, they made a picture. They were all still in their wedding finery, Jacob and Cordelia both in their tuxes with their ties loose, their jackets unbuttoned, and Ivy in shimmering emerald silk.
If they’d been a painting, Aria imagined it would have been titled something like A Portrait of Elegance and Depravity.
Technically, she was supposed to stay nearby. That had been one of Cordelia’s rules for her, along with no playing—like she could anyway, when everyone here was either in a relationship or related to her in some way—and letting Cordelia know if she was overwhelmed by their play.
Hmm. Maybe she could use that last one to her advantage. And it wasn’t even entirely a lie. She was, indeed, very overwhelmed by the thought of her uncles catching her here.
Sidling up to the couch, she flashed an apologetic smile when Cordelia looked up at her, one pale brow arching in a perfect mimicry of the expression her dad so often employed. “Yes, Baby Elliott?”
Ugh, she really hated that nickname. Nobody at the club was ever going to take her seriously—assuming she found a way to convince her dad to let her have a membership—if it stuck. But she didn’t have the time to argue about it now. “I think I’m gonna go upstairs for a bit. This is all a bit… much.”
The corners of Cordelia’s mouth dipped down, just a fraction. That fraction was enough to send Aria’s heart racing. Could she see straight through her? Did she have some kind of magical Domme powers that let her know when someone was being less than truthful?
But then Cordelia’s gaze flicked to the left and the frown shifted to a smirk. “Your sudden overwhelm wouldn’t have anything to do with your very protective uncles joining the fray, now would it?”
Damn. Caught. “Maybe.”
Chuckling quietly, Cordelia pulled her hand from beneath Ivy’s skirt, holding her fingers in front of the other woman’s face.
Aria watched, equal parts fascinated and horrified as Ivy obediently pulled her Domme’s fingers between her lips, sucking her own juices from Cordelia’s skin.
All while Cordelia maintained that somewhat terrifying eye contact.
“Ivy has a key to your father’s office. You can wait there and I’ll send her back up for you when your uncles leave. They never stay long.” Cordelia’s lips twitched. “You know how the elderly are.”
The joke helped to settle Aria’s jumping nerves and she grinned in response. “Thanks, Cordelia.”
“You’re welcome.” She gave Ivy’s hip a soft pat. “Go on, blossom. Take Baby Elliott up to Braden’s office, show her where the snacks are kept, and then come right back down. I have so many plans for my sweet little subbies tonight.”
“Yes, Daddy.” Rising from the couch, Ivy smiled and slipped her hand into Aria’s. “Come on. We’ll take the elevator so they don’t see us.”
“Thanks, Ivy. I feel a little ridiculous, hiding out from them, but…”
“But they’ll get all protective and try to make you leave and then Cordelia will have to smack them down, which they’ll get all sulky about.
And then they’ll call your dad and tell him we snuck you into the club after hours and he’ll lose his mind on all of us.
” Looking back over her shoulder, Ivy grinned.
“Cordelia isn’t saving just your ass right now. ”
Guilt twisted her stomach into a knot. “I’m not like, going to get Cordelia kicked out of the club or anything, am I?”
“Nah. Braden’s too scared of her.”
Stopping in front of the gleaming gold doors of the hidden elevator, Aria stared at her new friend. “My dad isn’t scared of anyone.”
“Everyone’s scared of my Daddy.” There was a note of pride in Ivy’s voice as she said it.
“Well, everyone but me. But that’s just because I know the worst thing she’ll do to me is edge me for hours on end.
The rest of them aren’t quite sure what she’d ever do if they pissed her off enough, and they’re not in much of a hurry to find out. ”
“Edge you?” They were in the elevator now, with Ivy pressing the button to take them up to the second floor.
Pink blossomed in Ivy’s cheeks. “It’s where a Dom will, um, touch you. So you get really close to an orgasm, but then they stop before you actually get any relief. And then they keep doing that over and over. It’s the worst thing in the whole world.”
“And Cordelia does that to punish you?”
“Sometimes.” Ivy shrugged. “And sometimes she does it just because she’s mean and I’m hers and she can.”
God, she had so many questions. Because all of that sounded absolutely awful, and yet, Ivy clearly enjoyed being Cordelia’s submissive. And Lottie seemed—
Nope. Not going there. I am not going to start wondering about what my friend does with my dad in bed. Nope, nope, nope.
The elevator dinged and Ivy led the way to a large room made entirely of windows, giving everyone a clear view of her father’s office. Which meant zero privacy for—
Stop. It.
Maybe she didn’t want a membership at the club, after all. Surely there had to be other places in Charleston to learn about this kinky stuff. Somewhere she wasn’t constantly reminded that her father and her uncles were doing… that.
Ivy opened the small silver clutch in her hand and pulled out a key to unlock the office door.
Stepping inside, she gestured for Aria to follow her.
“Blankets and snacks are in that cabinet”—she pointed to a large armoire situated beside a rather ornate wooden desk—“and there’s a tablet in the top right drawer of his desk.
He keeps both locked, but the code for the tablet is your birthday and there’s a spare key for the drawer hidden in the bathroom.
Lottie keeps an extra in the false bottom on one of the jars in there. ”
“I assume if Lottie’s hiding it, my dad doesn’t know about it?”
“It does, and we’re going to keep it that way.”
Eyes widening at the unexpected firmness in Ivy’s tone, Aria nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”
Grin flashing, Ivy gave her own decisive nod. “Good. Braden keeps a few different kinds of whiskey in here, but if you want wine or something there’s a fully stocked bar out and to your right. Just make sure you wash whatever you use and put it back where you found it or Tara will have my ass.”
“Tara?”
“Our head bartender. She wields a mean crop when she’s pissed.”
Confused and now more overwhelmed than she would ever admit out loud, Aria frowned. “But… you’re Cordelia’s.”
One slender shoulder lifted in a shrug as if to say it didn’t matter.
“I am. Doesn’t mean she wouldn’t tie me up herself to let Tara have a go at me, especially if she thought I deserved it.
” Head tilted to the side, Ivy smiled dreamily.
“Of course, we haven’t played with anyone else since Jacob came along because he’s still so new to all this.
We have finally gotten him comfortable with some public play, though. Baby steps, you know?”
She knew, at least a little, about the boy who’d escaped a fundamentalist cult and ended up with two women who absolutely doted on him—when they weren’t busy tormenting him, that was.
“Anyway.” Ivy straightened and waved around the office.
“Make yourself at home. Your uncles probably won’t stay more than an hour, if that.
If I had to guess, they promised your dad they’d make an appearance to ensure we’re all behaving ourselves.
Once they’re satisfied we aren’t going to burn the place down, they’ll head home.
Damian and Emily might do a scene but he usually—”
The horror of hearing any details about her uncle and his pretty wife overrode any lingering curiosity Aria might have had about the club. “Okay, okay, I get it! You can stop now!”
“Sorry.” Ivy’s grin flashed, and Aria was left with the impression she wasn’t actually that sorry at all. “I just mean to say, I’ll be back up soon to let you know the coast is clear.”
“Thanks, Ivy.”
“No problem. Be back in a bit!”
The door shut behind her, leaving Aria alone in her father’s office.
At the sex club he owned.
With her uncles.
Not weird at all.
The curiosity that had brought her here in the first place crept back in, nudging aside her discomfort, at least enough for her to wander over to the armoire Ivy had pointed out earlier.
Inside were, as promised, several fluffy blankets as well as buckets of snacks.
She recognized the chocolate-covered pistachios Lottie had raved about a few months back, declaring them to be her ‘new favorite food ever’.
Aria smiled as she ran her fingers over the package.
It was so like her dad to remember someone’s new hyperfixation food and ensure it was kept on hand.
He’d been the same with her, growing up.
All she had to do was mention something offhand and the next time she came to visit, there it was.
A new poster of her favorite band for her bedroom, a food she’d said she’d liked in the kitchen, a book she’d paused to look at in the store sitting on her bedside table.
Another little prickle of guilt niggled at her as she closed the doors to the armoire and eyed its mate on the other side of the desk.
Braden Elliott had never denied his daughter anything unless he had a damn good reason.
Which meant he had a good reason for not letting her into his club, or at least what he thought was a good reason.
So maybe she should have listened. Maybe she shouldn’t actually be here.
But it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right for everyone else to get to know the secrets his club held. Just because she happened to be his daughter didn’t mean she shouldn’t be allowed to at least test the waters and see if she was interested in… all of this.
Wandering over to the other armoire, she stared at the closed doors.
Ivy hadn’t said anything about this one, which meant there was probably something in there she wasn’t meant to see.
Something her father wouldn’t want her to see.
But she’d already come this far, already broken so many of his rules to be here.
What was one more?
Nerves and curiosity warred in her stomach as she pulled the doors open—and froze.
Canes, straps, paddles and other implements in various sizes all hung inside the armoire, waiting for use. Reaching out with fingers that suddenly trembled too much for her liking, she ran her hand down a leather strap much like the one Beckett had been using on Ruby downstairs.
She couldn’t picture her dad using these things on Lottie.
Her father, who’d never raised a hand to her and rarely even raised his voice, hitting the woman he loved?
Leaving bruises on her—because there was no way these things didn’t leave marks, she’d seen the state of Ruby’s ass—making her cry, enforcing his will through pain and intimidation?
Unsettled now, she shut the doors and turned her back on the armoire to wander the office.
Her dad adored Lottie. Worshiped her, even.
Aria had seen the way he looked at her, like she was his whole world.
And she’d seen Lottie pout and wheedle her way into getting pretty much anything she wanted, while her father pretended to sigh and scowl over how much she spent on things.
It was difficult to reconcile that version of her father with a man who enjoyed hurting sweet, bubbly Lottie.
There must be more to it, something she couldn’t imagine on her own.
Which brought her full circle to her need to find out for herself.
Restless, and frustrated with it, she turned toward the office door. Maybe she’d go get herself a glass of wine, take a peek over the railing to see what she could see from the second floor.
Or maybe not, since her uncles were still down there with their wives.
Ew.
No, better all the way around to just get the wine and have herself a good sulk while she waited for Ivy to return.