Chapter 2
FREYA
My hands are shaking, and the rise and fall of my chest are shallow as we pull up outside what looks like a regular office building.
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
I’ve been researching BDSM for a while now, so when I met Celest and found out she’s a submissive, I started asking questions, probing her for information. She’s not secretive about the lifestyle, but when it comes to her club, she’s been tight-lipped about it.
Tonight is a rare occurrence, and I jumped at the chance when she invited me to their first masquerade ball—complete anonymity to explore with no expectation to hook up.
“I can take you home if you’re not ready. There’s no pressure here, Freya. No one will do anything without your permission. It’s just a party.”
My stomach churns with excitement, butterflies swarming my chest cavity as I steel my nerves. “I don’t want to go home. I’ve wanted this for a while. I’m just being silly.”
“Girl, you look amazing, and no one will know who you are or what you do for a living. Relax,” she says, resting her hand on my knee. “I’ll be with you.”
“Thanks, Celest. ”
I opted for a lavender floor-length gown tonight, hugging me in all the right places and complimenting my olive complexion. My mask is elaborate and elegant, shielding the top half of my face, the jewels highlighting my chocolate-brown eyes.
Celest leans over, sweeping my hair over my shoulder, its soft curls cascading down my back. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” From my fingertips to the tips of my toes, excitement radiates through every cell in my body, vibrating as I step out of the cab, clenching my clutch bag.
“Do you have the invite I gave you?” Celest asks as we step into the lobby. I’m not prepared for how ordinary it looks, and I’m a little crestfallen.
I reach inside my bag, pulling out the sleek black invitation with the time, date, and a golden ‘ V ’ embossed on it. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Good evening.” The security guard takes the invite before handing us small tags and ushering us to an elevator.
“Are you okay?” Celest asks as the door slides closed.
“It’s not what I expected.”
“Just wait…” Within seconds, the doors ping open, and my jaw drops. A dark, sumptuous vestibule comes into view. It oozes luxury and a promise of wickedness. She takes my hand, pulling me out of the elevator. “You’re going to love it.”
As she leads me into the bar, I’m awestruck by the opulence surrounding me—grand chandeliers and a gorgeous dark wood bar that looks to be stocked with anything you could ever wish for. There are tables, booths, and barstools filled with a multitude of people, all with one thing in common—masks obscure their faces.
There are men in tuxedos—obviously tailored—with simple black masks, their lips the only feature unveiled. Some of them have women draped over them, wearing ballgowns that would make a queen look like a serf by comparison. And their masks—intricate and bejeweled in breathtaking colors to match their gowns. Suddenly, I feel completely underdressed, even though this is the most expensive dress I’ve ever bought .
My pulse is racing, thrumming in my ears as we make our way to the bar.
“What can I get for you ladies?” Even the bartenders are dressed to kill tonight. I wonder if that’s normal for a place like this.
“Two French Martinis, please.” I need some liquid courage if I’m going to get through tonight. I’ve wanted to attend a club for years, but being here is overwhelming. When our drinks are set before us, my friend and I lift our glasses, clinking them together.
“Here’s to a great night,” I say with trepidation.
“Welcome to Venom, Freya. Indulge your desires, my friend. There is no judgment here.”
Raising the cocktail glass to my lips, I drink the entire thing before asking for another. My stomach is doing somersaults as I watch everyone interact, missing whatever my friend is saying. I can’t look away. Everyone seems so free. I don’t know how to explain it, but I want a taste of that feeling.
“Come on, it’s time to go upstairs.” Celest grabs my hand, dragging me toward a grand staircase on the other side of the bar. I try to take in every detail. Walking past a dark hallway, I wonder what’s down there.
“Where are we going?” I don’t want to leave.
“They added a new level a few months ago. That’s where the ball is.”
“Is it like this?” Picking up the bottom of my gown, I make my way up the dark spiraling staircase. It’s beautiful down to the last detail, with ornate carvings adorning the balustrade.
“Yes and no. There’s a bar up there, but it’s a communal gathering space.”
“What do you mean? There were lots of people downstairs.” As we take the last few steps, it opens up into a lavish ballroom, the décor perfect for an elegant masquerade.
“Not that kind of communal. This area was added for those who enjoy being watched or watching others.”
“While they have sex?” My voice comes out an octave higher than usual .
“Oh, my sweet, innocent friend.” She links her arm with mine, pulling me into the crowd.
“What about that hallway?”
“The voyeur hall. Private rooms for patrons but with viewing windows. You wouldn’t know if people are watching or not.” Heat pools at the apex of my thighs. I’ve never considered anything like this, and I’m a little ashamed to think it might be something I’d enjoy.
“And out here?”
“Patrons can engage with one partner or several at a time. Before now, the club has only had one room downstairs for orgies and one for voyeurs. Any kind of sexual contact is strictly prohibited in the bar downstairs.”
“So they must have a lot of members who enjoy that. ”
“You can say it, Freya,” she coaxes.
“People who enjoy orgies.” I trip over the words, wondering if I made the right decision by coming here tonight. Celest picks up on my unease.
“It’s all about consent here, Freya. Relax. No one will have their wicked way with you unless you expressly tell them otherwise.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief, but it’s mixed with a hint of disappointment. I’m not sure if I can push myself to ask for what I want. It feels like it would be easier just to let it happen. To have someone else take the reins.
The music stops, and all eyes go to the stage where a ridiculously handsome man stands at the microphone, his mask in one hand and a drink in the other.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Dalton Callaghan, one of the club owners. Most of you know me, but I’m aware we have many new and hidden faces tonight. Please enjoy the facilities, respect the rules, and welcome to Venom. Let the masquerade begin.”
He fixes his mask in place and walks off stage into the arms of a beautiful woman. Her mask obscures most of her face, but I can tell she’s gorgeous. There’s something in the way he gazes at her with complete adoration.
The music starts up again, and a buzz of excitement ripples through the crowd as people start chatting, drinking, and dancing. It’s like a fairy tale if Cinderella wanted to be chained up and whipped.
“Is your Dom here tonight?” I ask Celest.
“Yes, but I told him I won’t be leaving you to the wolves, so don’t worry. I’ll be by your side as long as you want me.”
“Thanks. I’m a little overwhelmed.”
Everyone around me seems so confident and carefree. I’m not used to having doubts. I am a self-assured woman in every other aspect of my life, but when it comes to sex, I’ve always known I’m different and what I want from a man.
I think.
Maybe.
“Come on. It’s time to put our tags on, and we’ll get you another drink. You don’t have to have sex tonight, Freya. We’re out having a girl’s night. You were curious. Don’t let any preconceived ideas ruin your night. Promise me.”
“Okay.” I blow out a long breath before following her through the crowd toward the bar. When we get there, I reach into my purse and pull out the tag we received when we arrived.
“You don’t even need to wear that if you don’t want to. Or you can take it off whenever you feel like it. Did you complete the information in the portal?”
“Yeah, but the extent of my likes and dislikes were ‘I have no idea what I want.’ ”
She presses a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “That’s where we all start, Freya. I guarantee there are others in this room who said the same thing. Don’t be shy. It’s okay not to know. Plenty of men here would be more than willing to explore with you.”
A thrill courses through me at the thought, and I attach the small tag to my gown. I can do this. When we have a fresh drink in hand, Celest and I start to mingle. She introduces me to a few of her friends as we navigate the crowd, her Dom zeroing in on her in a sea of people. Even in a mask, he can pick her out, and I realize this is what I came here for. I want a man who will know my body and can find me in a crowd, even with a mask on my face. Is it too much to ask for a man like that? It would seem so with the men I’ve dated of late.
I dip in and out of various conversations, my eyes roving over every detail of the club. It’s enchanting. I can’t help coming back to the hallway Celest mentioned, knowing what people could be doing right now. There’s a man leaning against the wall—tall, muscular but lean, dirty blond hair, and his eyes—he’s looking at me.
My body heats under his gaze. Even from this distance, I can tell his focus is on me alone. My breath is shallow as I stand frozen to the spot, entranced as he casually makes his way through the crowd with a confident gait to his stride, his eyes never leaving mine.
Celest is talking to me, but I don’t pay enough attention to answer, transfixed by the man walking toward me. When he comes to a stop, he’s a foot away from me, and it feels like too little and too much all at once. We stand for what feels like the longest time, his emerald gaze fixed on mine. His lips are sensuous, his jaw peppered with stubble, and I’m flooded by the thought of how it would feel against my skin.
“Hello.” His voice is a low rumble, gravelly and dripping with sex. The scent of his cologne invades my senses, and my mouth goes dry.
“Hi.”
“Would you like to dance?” Holding out his hand to me, I shove my drink and purse at Celest without breaking eye contact with my mysterious suitor.
I don’t speak. I can’t.
Instead, I slip my hand into his, letting him lead me to the dance floor, his arm wrapping around my waist, pulling my body flush with his. Every nerve ending in my body sparks to life, the rapid rise and fall of my chest giving me away as we begin to sway to the music. Electricity courses through every fiber of my being, and I feel alive in a way I never have before.
He doesn’t speak, and his eyes remain fixed on me as if I’m the only person in the room. My body is on fire where his hand holds tight on my waist as I gaze up into his eyes. I could get lost in their depths, everything else fading away as I let him lead me around the floor.
The music is ethereal, as enchanting as my dance partner. One song bleeds into the next and the next, and still, we don’t exchange words. He spins me with ease, clearly an adept dancer. It makes me wonder if he does this often, sweeping women off their feet without more than a simple hello , and yet I find I don’t much care. Tonight, I’m the woman in his arms, and suddenly, the night is full of possibilities. The unsettling nerves I felt when I walked through the door give way to a different kind of nervous energy.
My body reacts to this man—a masked stranger—in ways it never has before. As the song finishes, his hand shifts from my waist, sliding up my side, across my shoulder, and into my hair as he leans in, his gaze flitting from my eyes to my lips and back again. A silent question. A plea for permission which I freely give with a slight nod.
His lips brush mine, sending a shiver down my spine, my nipples hardening as his tongue darts out to lick the seam, asking for entrance. He tastes like scotch and a hint of mint, his stroke firm and slow as our tongues tangle in a sensual dance. His hand fists in my hair, holding me firm as he deepens our kiss. When he pulls back, I’m left panting, my senses in overdrive as he presses his lips to mine once more before he speaks.
“Come with me.” It’s not a question. It is a command, and it makes my body sing with anticipation. He releases my hair, his hand caressing down my spine until it reaches the small of my back. It’s almost territorial, sending a jolt of desire straight to my core.
He navigates the crowd easily, finding his way back to the edge of the voyeur hallway where I first caught him watching me. Opening one of the many doors, he guides me inside before locking it behind us.
“Do you want the window left open to whoever may be on the other side, little one?”
“I…” I can barely catch my breath. Am I really going to do this with a perfect stranger?
“Don’t be afraid. Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it so. ”
My heart is hammering so hard in my chest, my pulse whooshing in my ears as his eyes rake the length of me.
“Open,” I whisper, my voice unrecognizable.
He runs his fingertips down my arms, goose bumps spreading across my skin, my head swimming as his lips find mine once more.
His touch is tender yet fierce, but as his hands move into my hair to release my mask, I panic.
“Leave it on,” I beg.
He pulls back, leaving me bereft. “I won’t do anything you don’t want, little one. You can keep it on if you so wish.”
“Yes, please.”
“Do you want me to keep mine on, or do you want to see my face as I bury it between your thighs?” Holy Mother of God.
“Keep it on,” I choke past my nerves, desperate for more of his touch.
“Then you will call me Sir. Understood?”
“Yes.”
He leans in, his lips caressing the shell of my ear. “That’s your first mistake, little one. I think you meant to say yes, Sir. ” My heartbeat goes wild.
“Yes, Sir,” I pant in a breathy whisper.
“Good girl.” His fingers trail down my arm until they interlace with mine, and he leads me to a bed in the center of the room. “Sit on the edge.”
I do as I’m told, my eyes glancing at the blacked-out window on the wall. A two-way mirror?
“Last chance to close the curtains.” He drops to his knees in front of me. “Tell me what you want.”
“Leave them open… Sir.”
“Well done, little one.” He leisurely slips his hand under my dress, caressing my calf as he makes his way up to my knee. “Now, tell me your safeword.”
“I don’t have one.” He stops his ascent, pinning me with his gaze.
“I could tell you’re new to this, but you’re brand new, aren’t you, little one? ”
“Yes. Yes, Sir.”
“That’s okay.” Every cell in my body is focused on where his warm hand grips my leg. “Choose a word. Something easy to remember. If you want me to stop what I’m doing, you use that word, and I will cease everything.” I read about this, but I didn’t plan ahead.
“Um… lavender.”
He starts drawing circles with his fingertips, his striking green eyes staring up at me from behind his mask. “Lavender. Beautiful. Now, tell me you understand. You are in complete control. You say your safeword, and I stop. No matter what.”
“I understand, Sir.”
I’m mesmerized as he licks his lips, his other hand now under my gown, pushing it up over my knees. My body is trembling, nerves swarming my stomach as he slides his fingers up my thighs before hooking them under my panties and slowly easing the lace down my legs and dropping them to the floor.
My masked Dom trails soft kisses up my legs, savoring every inch as he gets closer to the apex of my thighs. Pushing my gown up toward my waist, his eyes drop to where I ache for his touch. I’ve never done anything like this before, but I want him.
“So beautiful. You’re already wet for me. Shall I see how you taste?” I feel my cheeks blush as he kneels between my legs, pushing them apart until I’m on display for his eyes only. From here, he’s careful to shield me from anyone watching.
“Yes, Sir.”
He groans in approval as he holds my gaze, dipping his head to where I need him at this moment. The second his lips brush against my sex, my entire body quivers, the rapid rise and fall of my chest giving away just how much I desire his mouth on me.
Pressing open-mouthed kisses to my most tender flesh, he darts his tongue out, tasting me in one long, languorous kiss, making me moan. I know I should be embarrassed, but it feels so good.
“That’s it, little one. Let me hear you.” He continues his ministrations, moving one hand up to my stomach, holding me in place as he licks, nibbles, and kisses me until all I care about is where our bodies meet.
“Oh God… yes… yes…”
“You taste so fucking good. I could eat you for hours, little one. You’re sweet like honey.” His breath is warm against my skin, making me even wetter. “Such a good girl.” He kisses me. “Do you want me to show whoever is watching this pretty pussy of yours?”
My back arches off the bed, a slick sheen of sweat coating my body as he flicks his tongue over my clit.
“Yes, Sir.”
Without another word, he grabs my dress and shoves it up to my waist, displaying me for anyone to see, causing a blazing inferno at my core.
“You’re so wet for me, little one. Are you a dirty girl? You like knowing that any number of people are watching me fuck you with my tongue right now.”
“Yes… oh God, yes… Sir.”
“Yes, little one. Be a good girl and spread your legs as far as they’ll go.” His eyes remain fixed on mine as he quickens his pace, his tongue doing wicked things to me as I start to move my hips, desperate for more of him.
“Such a perfect pussy.”
When I can barely stand it, I fist my hands in the sheets, trying to crawl away and yet wanting more. Grabbing my ankles, he pulls me right to the edge of the bed before setting a punishing rhythm, sending me to the brink of release.
“Oh God…”
“He’s got nothing to do with your pleasure, little one. Tonight, you’re mine. Come for me. Now .” His tongue circles my clit as he sends me crashing headlong into an orgasm, my entire body coming to life like it never has before. I shamelessly ride his face, his stubble rubbing against my sex, making it all the more deliciously wicked.
“Yes… Sir… Sir! ”