Chapter 11
He could take her right there—against the fence under the moonlight.
Need clawed up his spine, raw and insistent.
But he risked becoming inconsiderate vanilla dude.
She’d come here searching for more. Not just heat but depth.
Not just sensation but surrender. It was up to him to introduce her to his world with care.
With effort, Alec created space where his body wanted none.
Her kiss-swollen lips, the passion in her gaze, and the disappointed whimper she let slip nearly broke his resolve.
He almost leaned in for another taste, but dominance wasn’t only about taking; sometimes it was exerting self-control and holding steady for her sake.
“It’s close to midnight,” he murmured, steadying himself. “If we linger in the shadows, you’ll miss all the good stuff. And trust me, there’s plenty worth seeing.”
She rose onto her toes, chasing another kiss. “This seems good to me, Alec. Really good.”
Brushing a thumb over her cheek, he smiled at how easily she reached for him.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“Around here, submissives rarely call their doms by name.”
“Right. You, uh, probably prefer sir,” she stammered, as if she’d forgotten where they were. It was an excellent sign he could do that to her with a few kisses.
“That works most of the time, but from you, I’ve missed hearing Alec,” he confessed. His name in her soft little sigh did things to him he couldn’t put into words. “How about you do what feels natural tonight?”
“I can do that, sir.”
His cock hardened instantly. Easing her in wasn’t doing him any favors.
He cleared his throat and drew her away from the hedge, plucking leaves from her hair while she leaned into him, flushed and weak-kneed. It was all he could do not to drag her right back in.
“Have you had a chance to look around?” he asked, reining himself in inch by slow inch.
“I saw some of the house while working an event last week, and earlier Julia showed me the playground.”
“What about the playroom and the theme rooms inside? They’re Dev’s latest additions. So new, the second coat of paint has barely had time to dry.”
“No, we were, um, interrupted.”
“Servers usually stick to the kitchen and patio,” he said with a low chuckle. “I think you mean discovered.” He nodded toward the house. “Since you’ve seen the playground, we’ll skip it. The side door’s this way.”
It was nearly invisible behind the thick palms and tropical plants. Alec held it open and let her step in ahead of him. Music hit first—a dark, pulsing bass—followed by the sharp crack of leather on skin, and the unmistakable sounds of pleasure drifting from within the house.
His hand, both supportive and possessive, guided her forward. They didn’t make it two steps down the hall. Members were packed three and four deep in front of the theme room windows.
Alec let out a low whistle. “Good thing Dev widened this hallway. Until the novelty wears off, it will stay jammed with everyone wanting to see the shows.”
“What shows?” she asked, curiosity and nerves making her voice tight.
“Role-play mostly,” Alec said, steering her through the crush. “Headmaster and naughty student. Boss and secretary. Dungeon master and captive. Whatever the players dream up.”
He saw the glimmer of interest in her eyes and smiled. “Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s give you a peek.”
The crowd parted for him—the orange DM band on his arm doing some of the work. Within moments, she stood front and center at the first window.
The short table, stirrups, stool on casters, and gooseneck lamp—straight out of a GYN exam room—made Emily gasp.
“Dev took a poll,” he said. “Medical play ranked second. The clinical setup, an intimate inspection, the power dynamic—it pushes a lot of people’s buttons.”
“I’m afraid to ask what came in first.”
He angled his head toward the wide, glassless window. “You’re not even a little curious?”
“I’d rather get a root canal,” she whispered, shuddering.
He chuckled. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, little newbie. But there’s more to see.”
He guided her to the next window. When the couple ahead of them moved on, Alec slid smoothly into place, bracketing her with one arm to keep the crowd from pressing in.
Inside were gray walls, stone-patterned tile, flickering sconces, and a bound submissive suspended from the ceiling, rope wound intricately around her body.
Her dom, bare-chested and glistening, wielded a red-and-black braided whip.
As she slowly revolved, he applied measured strokes to her back and ass, alternating with rapid flicks across her breasts and pussy from the extension on the end.
Emily stared, barely breathing. “This was number one?” she asked. “It’s a torture chamber straight from the Inquisition.”
“It placed third, and it isn’t quite that extreme,” Alec murmured. “See the hardware overhead? Its rigging for suspensions. The open space makes it ideal for flogging or short-tail impact play.”
They watched in silence for a moment as the woman writhed in her bonds, thrusting her breasts and hips forward for more of the whip.
“I expected it to hurt more,” she whispered.
“Don’t underestimate the flicker whip,” he warned her. “In the wrong hands, it can do damage. But Jacob has years of experience. Notice he switches to the tassel for delicate areas and keeps the full whip to a minimum. He’s all about sensation. Sometimes he brings out a fluffinator at the end.”
“What’s that?”
“Fur,” he breathed, running his hands up her arms and feeling the shiver that ran through her.
She glanced up at him, lips parted, then she snapped them shut and looked back at the scene.
“You have a question. Ask it,” he gently insisted.
“Are you the right hands?”
He fingers tightened on shoulders. “The whip has never been my taste.”
She exhaled, relief written all over her face. “I’ve seen second and third. What came in first?”
“The schoolroom, which explains all the pigtails and pleated skirts tonight.”
Emily stood motionless, eyes fixed on the hypnotic rise and fall of the lash. Alec watched her absorbing every detail. So was he, filing it away for later, when he could use what stirred her most.
He tugged her hand and attempted to move to the next window, but the crush of bodies all jockeying for a better view made it impossible to get closer.
“Dev’s going to need a damn reservation system,” he grumbled. “Every room and station has a line out the door.”
“That’s okay,” Emily quickly assured him. “Even if I don’t try anything tonight, this has been… educational.”
He dipped his head close, lips grazing her ear. “Nope. This will be a hands-on lesson. BDSM is a contact sport—minus a few niche kinks. And doms,” he added low, “can be very creative.”
She didn’t respond, but he felt the shift in her body—the subtle lean toward him, the breath she held. She wanted this. She just didn’t know how to admit it yet.
When he steered her clear of the packed hallway, the blast of A/C hit them—cool relief after the heat of so many bodies. Emily shivered, instinctively edging closer, and he guided her toward the quieter lounge.
What was actually Dev and Cari’s den was used for overflow and when pop-up showers, common on humid evenings, drove the patio dwellers inside.
It had a wet bar, scattered couches, and a massive wall-mounted screen, but Alec led her past all of it toward the far end, up two narrow steps to the small stage.
“We use this for demonstrations sometimes,” he explained.
He reached for the dimmer switch, lowering the recessed lights until only moonlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind them. Soft. Private. Enough light for him to see her, and enough shadow that she wouldn’t feel on display. It was too early for that.
Alec moved a leather wing chair onto the stage, angling it away from the ceiling vent so she wouldn’t get chilled. Then he sat—legs spread, posture relaxed but commanding—and patted his thighs.
When she only stared at him, he leaned forward, clasped her wrist, and tugged her gently onto his lap—exactly where he wanted her.
“You couldn’t see much in that crowd,” he said, voice low. “But something turned you on. Something in those rooms.” His hand slid up her throat to the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair to tilt her face up to his.
“Playing doctor wasn’t your thing,” he murmured, lips brushing her throat where her pulse fluttered. “But something made your heart race and those cheeks pink, Tell me one of your darkest fantasies.”
“I couldn’t,” she whispered.
“Of course, you can. It’s me. You’ve known me forever.”
“That makes it even more embarrassing.”
His thumb stroked her jaw. “Shyness fades with experience. And I’ll go slow.”
She shifted on his lap, tension rippling through her. He parted his thighs, and her legs opened with them. His hand slipped beneath her skirt and up her inner thigh until it met the damp silk covering her.
“You’re drenched,” Alec murmured, his fingers gliding over the fabric. “Something made you this way.”
She still said nothing.
He clucked his tongue, hooked the fabric aside, and slid his fingers through her heat. “If you won’t tell me, stubborn girl. I’ll have to find out for myself by process of elimination.”
A squeak escaped her throat, sharp and telling. Words were irrelevant; her body was speaking fluently. The molten wetness against his fingers was all the confession he needed.
“We’re doing this here?” she gasped.
“Dev’s new rooms are a circus. No one’s near this lounge,” he assured her. “It’s just us, Em.” With his free hand, he brushed her cheek with his knuckles, light but commanding. “If visibility bothers you, close your eyes.”
She hesitated—but only for a heartbeat. Then she obeyed, lashes lowering, her world narrowing to his voice and touch.
“Keep them shut,” he murmured. “Until I say otherwise.”
She nodded, her breathing shallow.