Chapter One #4
face that would kick him in the gut every time she looked at him.
He could devour her whole and still want more.
But he was being fanciful. He didn’t know this woman. What
he did know was that a gorgeous face and soft body could hide a ruthless soul.
Andrea had been the same, or at least presented in the same fashion. Under all
that performative sweetness had been a jackal.
He turned, dismissing that odd feeling he got from the
blonde. It was nothing more than a lingering wish.
Mal had been in the lifestyle since he was twenty-two. An
Army mate of his had taken him to a club in Liverpool, and he’d gone regularly
until he married Andrea. Then he’d accepted that part of his life was over. His
wife was pregnant, and he had to settle in. It wasn’t hard those first few
years since he’d been deployed.
The first child could have been his, but the second…
Of course neither of them turned out to be his. His son, the
one he’d prayed he got to see on lonely nights when the world was exploding
around him, was his nephew.
The children are innocent, Malcolm. You owe them
support. I know you’re hurt, but Bryce is handsome and he doesn’t scare women
the way you do. He’s gentle. You can’t blame him.
But he could. He could blame a lot of people. And while
Bryce might not scare women, he certainly didn’t have any trouble dumping them.
He went through woman after woman, and they still lined up for him.
It had been six months since he’d seen his mother. If he had
his way he wouldn’t see her again.
Bryce, for all his “gentleness,” went through women like
they were tissues. He was sure he was already cheating on Andrea.
Mal wished them hell.
He picked up his kit and made his way to the hall leading to
the privacy rooms. The building that housed Dominion looked like a small estate
that had seen much better days. They were on the outskirts of London in what
could be seen as a suburban space and this property had land attached. It was
private. Oliver was proud of this place. Picked it up for a song, he would
always say, but even in its dilapidated state, the structure and land still
likely cost more than Mal would ever earn in a lifetime. He moved up the stairs
to the second floor. And stopped.
The rooms weren’t numbered, and there wasn’t a monitor up
here. That was surprising, but he supposed it was still a bit early in the
evening. There were two rooms to his left and one door to his right. And that
was when he noticed a second set of steps on the opposite end of the hall. He had
no idea how they would be numbered. Did they start at the other end of the
hall? Or the one he was closest to?
At that moment a big man in leathers stepped out of the
first door to his right. He looked slightly panicked and had a large wrench in
his hand. His brow was covered in sweat, and his eyes went wide when he noticed
he wasn’t alone.
“Sorry, mate. We’ve got a problem in this one. The plumbing
seems to have… Well, let’s just say you don’t want to be there. I’m pretty sure
the leak is now officially a lake, and it’s probably raining in the red room
downstairs,” the man said. He gestured to the door on the opposite side of the
hall. “Use that one if you need to. Have to go. Pretty sure that room was
reserved for an orgy that’s about to turn into a drowning if I don’t fix it.
I’ve called for backup, so give him a few minutes and then if you need
anything, the monitor is at the end of the front steps.”
He ran down the stairs.
Mal still didn’t know which side was the front steps or the
back steps.
Well, he’d been told where to go. The dungeon monitor was
usually up to date on where to put who and what rooms were being used. He
entered the room and quietly set up his kit.
He waited. Patience was the name of his game. He stood
unmoving, going over the scene in his head. He would start with a presentation
and see where to go from there. He would usually meet with the sub and ask for
her preferences, but this was a quick session, and they would have to figure it
out.
There was a knock on the door, and he felt his anticipation
rise.
For a few hours he could forget who he was, what he’d been
through. He could silence all the voices in his head and simply be.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and the woman from the bar walked in. The
gorgeous blonde who made his dick ache and his soul suspicious.
“Good evening, Sir. You may call me Viv.” She looked
stunning in a red corset and thong that showed off her luscious arse. Her breasts were pressed up, an offering for the man
that could tame her.
He suddenly wanted to be that man.
If only for a night.
He had expressly said he didn’t want to exchange names, but
he liked hers. And honestly, what did it matter if he called her Viv or sub? He
wasn’t going to argue, though it did rankle a bit. “Welcome, Viv. Present
yourself to me.”
She sank to the floor, and he realized this was going to be
far more intense than he counted on, but he wasn’t about to leave.
He stepped forward, letting all his cares go and prepared to
be her Dom.