Chapter 3 #2
“Alright, baby girl,” Dottie said, dragging me toward a pool of ultraviolet light just a few feet from the bar. “Let’s see the magic.”
I stepped into the glow and heard her sharp inhale before she even spoke.
The outfit was one I’d designed for exactly this moment, sleek black with delicate cutouts tracing flame-like patterns along my curves.
Under normal lighting, it was subtle, elegant.
Under the black lights, however, the embedded UV-reactive threads flared to life, igniting in streaks of electric orange and shimmering violet, like my body had been painted in living fire.
Even the slim straps of my stilettos picked up the glow, tying the look together in a way that made my skin tingle with satisfaction.
“Damn,“ Dottie breathed, dragging her tongue across her lower lip with zero shame. “I gotta get me one of those.”
For a half-beat, I wondered if she swung both ways, her look was that appreciative, but her tone was pure admiration. It sent a strange thrill through me anyway, the kind of jolt I wasn’t used to feeling.
“Well, now I’ve seen everything,” she said finally, stepping back into her own light. “Don’t you dare leave before we exchange numbers because I have got to go shopping with someone who can find something like that! Come on, Hecate, let’s find out who your partner is tonight.”
I smiled, shoulders squaring as I left the black light behind. For one fleeting moment, I felt exactly how I’d hoped I would when I’d left the house tonight, untethered, unapologetic, and entirely my own.
I followed Dottie back to the check-in table, the click of my heels steady but my pulse anything but. She slid into her chair, tapped on a tablet, and scrolled with quick flicks of her manicured nails until she stopped abruptly.
“This can’t be right,” she murmured under her breath. “I didn’t think he did these kinds of events.”
A chill of doubt curled low in my stomach. After everything I’d risked to get here, there was no way I was leaving without the night I’d come for, one where control wasn’t wrestled away from me but given willingly, where someone skilled enough to hold it could push me past my boundaries.
Dottie glanced up, her expression transforming from confusion to electric enthusiasm.
“Girl… you are in for a treat.“ She leaned forward, voice lowering as if we were sharing a secret too good for the room. “Your partner tonight is Master Loki, and let me tell you, he is all that and a bag of chips. You hear what I’m saying?”
Her delight was infectious. I fought to keep my mouth from curving into a full grin but failed miserably. “He’s experienced, I hope?”
Dottie threw her head back and laughed, warm and unrestrained. “Experienced? Honey, that man could teach a masterclass. I won’t ruin the surprise, you’ll just have to find out for yourself.“ She slid to her feet with a catlike grace and linked her arm through mine.
In another life, I could see us as friends, laughing over drinks, swapping stories about disastrous dates, and maybe even sharing clothes.
“Girlfriend,” she whispered as we rounded the corner, “do you see that handsome devil? The one who’s a half-foot taller than anyone else in here, with the hair so dark it looks black under the lights?”
My gaze followed the tilt of her chin. As if he’d heard his name whispered in the air, the man turned.
And looked.
Eyes so dark they were almost black locked on me, sharp as blades, deliberate as a predator sizing up prey. His gaze skimmed over us once, calculated, unhurried, before shifting away, interest snagged elsewhere. But that one look had already stolen my breath.
Slim, athletic build, every line of him honed and efficient.
My mind, traitorous and shameless, filled in the details I couldn’t yet see, imagining the sculpted “V” tapering beneath his waistband, leading lower, further…
I shivered, a slow, delicious ripple down my spine.
If everything about him was that proportionate… God, I hoped it was.
Dottie grinned like she could read my mind. “I’ll leave you to it, hun. Enjoy your time with our resident sadist.”
“Resident what?“ I turned, but she was already halfway back to her post, hips swaying like the music had claimed her.
I took one slow breath, then another. My fingers flexed at my sides. Time to meet Master Loki.
Stepping into the public dungeon space, I moved toward him, every inch of me aware of the eyes I might be drawing, every nerve ending alight with something between nerves and thrill.
And then I was at his side.
“Master Loki?”
The name came out quieter than I intended, edged with nerves.
He turned, eyes dark and thoughtful, surprise flickering for a fraction of a second before discipline reclaimed the space.
His gaze was slow, careful, thorough as it traveled the length of me.
Not the look of a man admiring what he saw.
The look of a man making certain I was exactly where I belonged.
“And you are?” His voice was smooth, low, and cultured. The kind of voice you obeyed before you realized you were doing it.
“Hecate,” I said, steadying my voice. “Your partner for the evening.”
Something unreadable flashed in his eyes, a quicksilver emotion there and gone before a practiced mask slid into place.
“Hecate,” he repeated, my name rolling off his tongue like something tasted and savored. An excited shiver rippled through my core.
“This way, please.”
He guided me toward a quieter corner near the bar, away from the hum of conversation and the rhythmic pulse of the dance floor. Even in the simple act of his hand hovering just close enough to steer but not touch, there was command. The air between us thickened with something I couldn’t quite name.
“You’re allowed one drink while we go over your list and discuss your limits,” he said, gesturing to the bar. “What can I order for you?”
“A Moscow Mule, please.”
I perched on the edge of the seat, my foot tapping an erratic rhythm as he ordered.
The bartender, a woman with a too-stiff smile and sharp eyes, cast a brief glance at me, then back to him.
There was history there, an ease in the way she moved, quick and efficient, but with just enough edge to make me wonder.
This world was so different from my father’s, yet… not. In his empire, calm, polished, dangerous men like this existed everywhere. The difference was here I chose to be near one. And that terrified and thrilled me in equal measure.
What if he recognized me? Would he tell my father? My stomach twisted at the thought, but I forced it down. Too late now. Make it worth it.
“Cold?” His voice cut into my thoughts as he set the sweating copper mug in front of me.
His fingers brushed across my shoulders with just the lightest contact, and yet it sent goosebumps skating down my arms. There was no force behind the touch, but something in the way he did it held me utterly still.
He sat opposite me, unfolding a sheet of paper with precise movements, the gold-embossed pen catching the low light as he set it down between us. The black of his suit was severe, almost stark, yet somehow it fit him perfectly with an elegant kind of power that didn’t need to shout to be heard.
“Tell me why you’re here tonight, Hecate.”
I curved my lips into a teasing smile, keeping my tone light even as something knotted deep in my stomach. “I should think that’s obvious.”
His gaze sharpened, a single brow lifting just enough to warn me I hadn’t satisfied him.
“That’s not the answer I’m looking for.” He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t lean forward, but the weight in his tone pressed against me all the same.
His quiet, commanding authority made evasion feel impossible. “Let’s try again. Why are you here?”
I took a slow sip of my drink, the bite of ginger calming my nerves. “You have my list, Master Loki. I’m here for an escape. To step out of my life for one night and ride the edge between pleasure and pain until nothing else matters.” Until I forget who I am and what awaits when I go home.
What I didn’t say, and what I could never say aloud, was the rest. That the only time I’d ever felt truly free was when I’d chosen to give up control, not have it stolen. That I wanted, no, needed, someone strong enough to strip away the weight I carried, without caging the fire that made me me.
The kind of Dom you read about in stories but almost never meet in real life. One who could take my will in his hands and still leave my spirit intact. A man who could be my anchor when the world pressed in, but never dull my edges or dim my light.
His eyes held mine, unblinking, probing, as if he could read those unspoken words right off my skin. It wasn’t just interest in his gaze, it was intensity, deliberate and exacting, the kind that could ground you and undo you in the same breath.
How had I been paired with someone like him?
This wasn’t a casual player or a weekend hobbyist. This was a man who knew exactly what he was, and precisely what he could do to someone like me.
The way he looked at me told me he could already see which parts of me might break… and which ones he wanted to keep.
That thought should’ve scared me. Instead, it thrilled me. Dangerous, whispered a voice inside. Exactly what you came for, it whispered again.
But then doubt crept in. Was this a mistake? He had me feeling already, and that wasn’t why I was here. I hadn’t risked sneaking out for emotions. I wanted escape, a release, not connection.
As if he sensed the shift, his hand moved across the table, covering mine. Warmth. Solid, grounding warmth.
“Don’t worry, Hecate.” His voice softened, not losing its command, but gaining a weight that felt different.
Less performance. More promise. “You couldn’t be in better hands.
I’ll take you exactly where you need to go, beyond it if you let me.
You’ll burn bright, and when I’m done, you’ll rise from it like a phoenix. ”
My breath caught. That was no casual guarantee.