Chapter 3
Mira
Micah was right about one thing. I wasn't thinking about my career-ending behavior at work right now, not with the music pounding this loud. Probably not what he meant when he suggested it.
Noah had offered to walk me to the restrooms, but I was an adult. I could manage. Or so I thought. So many people had packed in since we’d arrived, and with the strobing lights, I couldn’t tell where our table was. I didn't know what was louder, the bass or my heartbeat.
From the street, Sanctum looked like any other brick building in Old Town.
Quiet. Unassuming, the kind of place people walked past without a second glance.
Stepping inside was another world entirely.
The entire air vibrated with bass. Overhead, intricate chandeliers flickered against exposed wood beams. Masks gleamed in the low light, velvet, leather, and lace turning strangers into predators. Goosebumps prickled across my skin.
What had I agreed to?
At the entrance, the man at the desk had asked what color I was. I’d just stared at him until Micah jumped in, telling him I was new. That earned us a detour into a small office where they explained the rules and had me sign an NDA.
Seriousness about privacy didn’t even begin to cover it.
After everything, they went over the bracelets everyone wore. Partnered, looking to play, collared? So many options.
"White, please!" I blurted. White was Observer only. It would be safe, right? I was assured no one would touch me without permission, and not even five minutes here and someone had broken that sacred rule.
I’d only meant to get to the restroom. Splash water on my face. Breathe. Anything to shut out the ropes, the skin, the girl on stage arching under every strike of the flogger.
But I paused—one second, one stupid second—trying to make sense of what I was seeing.
A hand grabbed my arm, and I spun, colliding with half-dressed bodies.
The man tried to pull me closer, but I snapped my arm free and shoved my wrist up, flashing the white band.
His eyes widened, his hands lifting in surrender.
Without a word, he scanned the crowd and disappeared, leaving me breathless and shaken.
The bracelet was supposed to make me invisible. Instead, I’d never felt more exposed. And I hated it.
Lifting my head, I saw him.
A man watching from the balcony spanning the far back brick wall.
The iron railing cut hard shadows across his shoulders, his mask gleaming in the half-light.
My stomach flipped. Worse than his gaze were the others I felt lingering on me, as if I were prey.
All I wanted was to find Micah and Noah, get to a table, and hide.
I’d promised an hour. In fifty-five minutes, I was gone.
A half an hour after that, I’d be carefully tucked into my bed.
I scanned the room and caught sight of a door roped off in the far corner. The bathroom, maybe?
God, I hoped so.
Micah had pointed a direction earlier but right now nothing looked familiar. Everything pulsed and shifted with the lights. I shoved through the crowd until I reached the door and sagged against the wall, trying to steady my breathing.
The man guarding the door walked away before I could ask where the bathroom was, but when a girl in lace from head to toe stepped out, a huge smile on her face, I slid in before the door closed.
The hall was long and dark, lined with old brick. The door thudded shut behind me, sealing the music to a muffled pulse. If only my apartment walls had the same effect.
I sagged against the wall. Just a minute. I needed a minute. Then I’d find Micah and Noah and beg them to take me home.
That was when I heard it.
A low, shivering moan.
The hallway stretched on like a hotel corridor, doors on both sides. The first few windows were covered with heavy curtains, but light flickered behind the third door on the left.
I told myself not to look. It wasn’t my business.
But my feet carried me closer anyway.
A woman hung in an intricate web of ropes, her body folded in ways I didn’t think were possible. She was breathtaking in a terrifying, vulnerable way. The blindfold kept her from looking back at me, and the man working her had his back to the glass—so what was the harm in watching?
The woman couldn’t see a thing. Couldn’t predict where he’d strike next with the leather-tasseled flogger in his hand. I didn’t understand how, while he lashed her, she actually leaned into the ropes… leaned into him.
I didn’t understand any of it.
That was when I felt him.
The air shifted. My skin prickled. Goosebumps raced down my arms as I realized I wasn’t alone.
“Lost, little one?”
I froze, the words caught in my throat.
“You’re not supposed to touch,” I whispered. I hadn’t heard a single footstep behind me—I’d been too wrapped up in the scene. Too distracted. And now all I could think was: if I screamed, would anyone even come? Did white really mean stop?
“I’m not,” he murmured, his warm breath brushing my ear.
Technically, he was right. He wasn’t touching me—but his body heat radiated close enough to make my skin hum.
“I should go.” The words barely scraped out. I should have moved. Should have run. But my feet stayed rooted in place.
He lifted one arm and braced it against the wall above my head, leaning in without closing the distance. I turned, my eyes snagging on the mask that hid his features, then back to the dark gaze fixed past me.
His chin tipped toward the scene. “What do you see?”
I swallowed and looked again. The woman trembled, muffled sounds slipping past her lips with every swat of the crop.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered, voice shaking. “How can she let him do that? She can’t see anything. She has no control.”
“That’s the point.” His voice wrapped around me. He leaned closer, but still didn’t touch. “It’s not about sight. It’s about surrender. She trusts him completely. Every touch, every sound, every breath is sharper. She feels instead of thinks.”
I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t stop the way his words sank deeper than I wanted them to.
Feels instead of thinks.
What would that even be like?
“And you…” His voice brushed the shell of my ear. “What are you feeling, watching her?”
Inside the room, the man clipped something to her nipples. I gasped and stumbled back, colliding with the stranger’s chest. Heat flared at the contact, my breath breaking, my own body responding traitorously.
Before I could flinch away, his hand settled at my hip, steadying me. Then he withdrew, leaving nothing but the ghost of warmth behind.
“Watch her.”
The command pulled my attention back to the glass.
“She wants him to stop,” I whispered as she strained against the ropes.
“She could stop everything cold with her safe word.”
I dragged in a shaky breath. God, even his scent was intoxicating—leather, spice, and something like bourbon.
“He’d stop?” My palm lifted, pressing lightly against the glass.
“Yes.” His voice didn’t waiver. “He’ll push her, but he’ll never pass her limits. And he trusts her to use her safe word if she needs to.”
“And they do this knowing anyone can watch? Doesn’t it ruin it?”
He gave a low, quiet laugh. “They know. But on their side, it’s a mirror. They only see each other. There are rooms with two-way views if they want them.”
The woman tugged at the ropes, her body arching taut. Then something inside her snapped loose. She tipped over, head thrown back, a scream tearing out as she convulsed.
I pressed my thighs together, heat moving through me. The man didn’t stop at the one, but held her and pushed her right into a second orgasm before easing her down.
“Have you ever?” he asked softly.
“What,” the word came out labored.
“Let go? Turned everything off?”
I turned to him, finally taking him in. Dark suit tailored to perfection, his simple black mask added to the allure. His short beard trimmed scruff. If only it wasn’t so dark, I might have seen his eyes.
“I…”
His full lips curved. “Tell me, little one, did you like what you saw?”
“I…”
His smirk widened as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “I could teach you to let go, to quiet those voices in your head.”
He pulled a card from his pocket and traced it down my temple, along my jaw, my neck, my collarbone. Never touching me. His breath mingled with mine.
For a second, I thought he might kiss me.
He tucked the card into my bra, with precise, teasing control, not once touching me. “Reach out.”
He stepped back and gestured at the door.
“Go find your friends,” he murmured. “Before you stumble into trouble you’re not ready for.”
He turned and disappeared down the hall.
I looked back through the glass. The man was untying the woman slowly, smoothing her hair, murmuring that she’d been a good girl.
Did it really quiet everything?
A couple exited a nearby room, and I jolted into motion, hurrying toward the door I’d slipped through.
This was all too much, but in the back of my mind, I knew it hadn’t been enough.