Chapter 5 #2
He resumed his tracing of her thighs. “You’re glistening, all the way down here. Does my princess want more?”
The submissive answered without a tremor. “No, dammit. You’ve got me so worked up with your teasing, you diabolical dom—what I want is your giant cock inside me.”
Her words cracked through the room, bold and brazen.
Emily jerked in surprise. The woman’s audacity—especially bound, exposed, and vulnerable—hit harder than the crop.
The audience erupted in delighted laughter, unsurprised by the outburst. The dom, equally entertained, flashed a slow, devastating smile—an expression his blindfolded submissive couldn’t see, though she’d deserved to.
“Careful, my love. Your Brooklyn is showing,” he warned, stroking the supple square over her glistening nether lips before smacking them firmly.
“You’re a devil to torment me so,” she gasped.
“Yes, but you knew that when you agreed to be mine.” He leaned in again, lips nearly touching hers. “Is any of this up to you to decide, little one?”
“No, sir. But after the warm-up blow job I gave you, I hoped you’d be open to suggestion.”
He smiled as laughter rippled through the crowd.
“What did I do to deserve you?” he asked, rhetorical, then covered her mouth in a kiss so searing, Emily half expected smoke to rise around them.
After several rapid thwacks, the last few delivered directly to her clit as he spread her open, he dropped the crop.
Kneeling, he pressed his mouth to her splayed pussy, soothing with his lips and tongue any sting he’d wrought.
It was deliberate worship, and that realization punched something loose inside Emily.
She drew in a shuddering breath. She’d never considered herself a voyeur—until now, witnessing intimacy that was raw, trusting, and impossible to fake.
“Hot, aren’t they?”
Startled, she turned to find a petite blonde with a short bob and side-swept bangs beside her.
“Oh, yeah,” she replied, too thick tongued with arousal to say more.
“It’s always like that with Master Dev and Cari. I’m Deanna, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Emily.”
Her gaze returned to the cross. The dom’s face was buried between his sub’s thighs. He’d released her ankle cuffs, and her legs were wound around his broad shoulders. From the sounds and her writhing, he was delivering a skilled and very thorough tongue-lashing.
“So that’s the Devil of Devil’s Pointe?”
“Yep. She’s his fiancée,” Deanna informed her. “The wedding is next month.”
No wonder they obliterated the hotness charts. They were in love. Their affection and passion woven so tightly, it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Her chest tightened. She’d never had anything close to that.
“I’ve watched the other couples. They don’t…” Emily paused, searching for the right word.
“Smolder?” Deanna offered.
“That’s it.”
“Sometimes there’s chemistry, and sometimes there isn’t,” she sighed. “Same as in the vanilla world.”
At the unmistakable sound of a woman nearing climax, Emily’s gaze snapped to the cross. Devil had risen to his feet.
“Please, sir, don’t leave me this way,” Cari pleaded.
“I’d never be so cruel,” he replied. “Unless you’re being punished. Other than that saucy tongue, you haven’t been naughty, have you, princess?”
“No, sir, I swear I haven’t. Ask the guys—check the daily reports. If I’m not with you, I’m never out of their sight.”
Judging by his movements, and the sudden laxness of his painted-on jeans, he unzipped his fly.
“Lately, the reports have praised what a good girl you’ve been. Which means you’ve earned a giant reward,” he told her suggestively.
“Yes, please,” she replied, as he moved between her thighs.
Despite the music and the crowd noise, Emily swore she heard him sink into her. Their shared moan—part sigh, part surrender—was unmistakable as his hips thrust forward.
“Your mouth is hanging open.”
Emily snapped it shut and looked to her left. Julia had come up on her other side, unnoticed.
“What are you doing in here?” she asked in a whisper.
“Fetching you.”
“For Regina?” Emily squeaked, searching the crowd for her boss.
“No. She was chewing ass in the kitchen, but she won’t stay there long, and you’re in a restricted area.” Julia turned, caught sight of the scene, and sucked in a breath. “I get the draw—holy smokes—but if the boss lady finds you here...”
“No one minds if she watches,” Deanna said. “In fact, for a lot of the club members, that’s half the fun.”
“One person minds,” Julia countered. “Mistress Regina. And sadly, we work for her.”
“She scares the crap out of me,” Deanna admitted with a shiver. “By all means, don’t get caught.”
“Mistress?” Emily echoed.
“Yes, and a very strict one,” the little blonde explained. “She’s one of thirty charter members.”
Her catsuit-and-whip impression made much more sense now.
“Don’t look so shocked,” Julia whispered. “Haven’t you ever pictured her with a slicked-back bun, glasses, and a paddle in hand—like a headmistress?”
Emily grimaced. “No, but thanks. Now I can’t unsee it.”
Deanna laughed, soft and lyrical, turning heads. She leaned closer. “Smart submissives steer clear of her—unless you’re into that.”
“I don’t know what I’m into,” Emily admitted. “But thanks for the warning.”
She glanced at the cross, licking her lips, watching the play of muscles in Devil’s broad back and the unmistakable fucking motion of his hips, a hint of taut ass visible where his waistband sagged.
All she could see of his fiancée was her face over his shoulder, revealing pure, unadulterated pleasure.
The intensity of it—of them—stirred an ache she hadn’t expected and didn’t understand.
“Didn’t I say it would curl your hair?” Julia asked.
“Yeah, but you left out a few important details. You failed to mention that every man here would be drop-dead gorgeous and ooze masculinity. And that there was a torture chamber. Or that it was straight out of the Spanish Inquisition, packed with kinky gear I couldn’t dream up if I lived to be one hundred. ”
“I figured Mistress Regina would have told you what to expect,” Deanna commented.
Julia snorted. “She told her to check her prudish sensibilities at the door.”
“It’s not that at all,” Emily protested, just as Devil’s shout of pleasure rolled through the room. “I mean, seriously.” She gestured toward the smoldering scene. “A heads-up would’ve been nice.”
Deanna deadpanned, “This is one of those things you’ve got to see to believe.”
With the big finish over, the crowd moved on. When Dev released Cari’s wrists, her arms wound around him and she buried her face in his neck. The tenderness stirred Emily as much as the steamy scene.
But Devil wasn’t quite done. He gripped her hair, held her head still, and kissed her—slow, voracious, and nearly as hot as the scene itself. Then he swept her into his arms and carried her away from the brightly lit cross.
A wistful sigh escaped Emily. It wasn’t just the sex. It was the devotion—the way they seemed built for each other. God, she wanted that. Needed it. So why couldn’t she have it with someone who saw all of her?
Julia leaned forward and gave Deanna a look. They giggled, hands over their mouths, until a few frowning onlookers, mostly men, shushed them.
“What’s funny?” Emily asked, having missed the joke.
“Your reaction,” Deanna said. “Newbies usually go one of two ways. They freak out, realizing this isn’t for them, then run for the door, or they’re into it because they see it’s about more than whips and chains.”
“You’re obviously in the into-it group,” Julia observed. “Because your jaw hit the floor—again.”
Emily knew she looked as stunned as she felt—wide-eyed, na?ve, completely out of her depth. She’d imagined kink as glossy and scripted, something reserved for fiction or whispered rumors. But this? This was raw, intimate, unfiltered, and far more intense than anything she’d ever dared imagine.
“We better go before we get caught gawking,” Julia urged, tugging her hand.
Emily glanced back to thank the sub who’d befriended her, but she was gone.
“It’s past midnight,” Julia said as they wove through the crowd. “Nothing is going to top what we just saw. The lounge outside is about to fill up.”
Emily cast one last look at the cross. The owner and his bride-to-be had blazing chemistry.
She’d never come close to having what they shared.
Her few experiences were dull as dust. No one had ever made her shout to the rafters.
Feeling oddly hollow, she followed Julia through the throng.
She stepped into the humid night air, Devil’s gentle laugh still in her ears and a yearning in her chest, one that money couldn’t fix.
A yearning she’d felt once before—when she’d walked away from something she wanted too much.