Read Claimed Online

Authors: Stacey Kennedy

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Women, #General, #Erotica

Claimed (22 page)

BOOK: Claimed
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Chapter Seventeen

A quarter of an hour later, Presley stepped through the dungeon doors. The soft rhythmic music and erotic noises surrounded her, and a familiar excitement fluttered low in her belly.

Master Dmitri had immediately stripped her to her new black lace shelf bra and teeny-tiny matching panties that she’d bought at the mall on Thursday. Then he’d left her with Cora—dressed in a dark purple corset with silver thong—sitting on the couch in the center of the dungeon.

Presley had spent a good few minutes telling Cora what happened at dinner, and how the night ended with an unconscious Steven, which she still couldn’t believe. By the time she finished, Cora’s brows were drawn together. “And . . . what, you left right after?”

“Yeah,” Presley replied. “Two of the waiters removed Steven from the pub. Dmitri finished his burger, paid the bill, then we came here.”

“Hmm.” Cora nibbled her lip, her eyes searching Presley’s. “Strange.”

Presley had to agree: Dmitri’s reaction had seemed strange to her, too. He didn’t say a word about it afterward or really even talk to her the entire drive to the dungeon. She asked once if he was angry with her, to which he replied, “Of course not, love,” then he took her hand.

Reminded of how great her night had started out with Dmitri and how shitty it had ended, Presley shook her head in frustration. “I’m still trying to figure out why Steven was there in the first place. You know him. He always goes to Scores
.
I picked Mickey’s because he wouldn’t be there.” She took a quick glance around, but no one in the dungeon was near them, so she whispered to Cora, “Do you think Steven would . . . I don’t know . . . follow me?”

Cora laughed, and the couch bounced beneath her. “While I think Steven is a total dipshit and would do something stupid, why would he follow you? He doesn’t want to get back with you or anything, right?”

Presley nodded. “Right.” While Steven had shown with his texts he wanted to be friends, she knew him well enough to know he had realized it was over between them almost immediately after their breakup. So, what in the hell was he up to tonight?

From all his reactions and his insistence to talk to her, she wondered if he knew of the lifestyle she led. Had he pieced it together from when he’d seen her at Scores with Cora? Tonight, when Steven had looked at Dmitri, she’d seen the anger in his eyes, as if he knew him and had an equal right to hate him, too. But even if Steven did know, why would he care what she did and didn’t do? They broke up because he had
cheated
on
her.
If anyone had a right to judge, it would be her.

Besides, she wondered whether it mattered to her if he did know. Not particularly, she mused. Bottom line, Steven wasn’t in her life anymore, and that’s exactly how she wanted it. Her lips had parted to share her frustrations with Cora when Master Dmitri interrupted, “Presley, to me now.”

Presley’s heart raced at his serious expression, but he didn’t focus on her long. To Cora, he said, “Go to Master Aidan on the other side of the dungeon. Tell him I’ve asked to keep you there until I order otherwise.”

Cora hesitated, and the look in her eyes resembled pity. “Yes, sir.”

Presley watched Cora hurry away, then a warm finger sliding along her bare shoulder had her hesitantly turning to Master Dmitri. She didn’t understand her nervousness, considering what she’d already been through in the dungeon, yet the way he looked at her now, with the tense set of his jaw, alarmed her.

Reaching into his pocket, he took out one long piece of black rope. “Offer your wrists, doll.”

She stood from the couch and wavered while she attempted to catch the racing of her heart, then thought better of it and lifted her hands. He bound her wrists in front of her in rope cuffs, then he led her over to the far dark corner.

While she appreciated that he was placing her in a spot far from the crowd, she wondered why he’d taken such great care to shield her when he hadn’t done so last weekend. Heck, he had put her onstage for all to see, so why not now?

At the wall, he settled in front of her, pushing on her stomach and forcing her back to rest against the stone. Raising her arms up to the ring above her head, he attached the rope to the loop, then he took another two pieces of rope from his pocket. He dropped down to one knee and bound her ankles to rings set in the floor, which left her spread wide. Worry settled in deep, even if she didn’t understand the cause for concern.

Master Dmitri stood and he ran a finger along her rib cage. She shivered, relishing the bondage. The feel of the rope, the sensation of being trapped, and the fact that Master Dmitri had bound her all made her burn. However, right then and before her eyes, darkness—almost a cold distance—filled his features and removed any of the heat within. “What’s your safe word if you need it?”

“Dragon.”

“That’s right, doll.” He flicked her hair off her shoulders then leaned down to place a soft kiss against her collarbone. Without another word, and to her absolute horror, he turned and strode away.

Wait. What?

Doms never left their submissives alone. Hadn’t he told her that the first night, when she watched Cora’s scene? Panic stole into her coherent thoughts, and a cold sweat washed over her, hammering her heart.

She stood in fear, totally bound to the wall, unable to move, for all to see, with nowhere to run, all alone in the corner of the dungeon. The dimly lit room now seemed pitch-black and far too empty.

The world around her slowed, and her deep breaths sounded loud in her ears. Right then, movement to her left caught her eye, and she turned her head to discover Master Kyler advancing on her.

“Look at this lovely pet.” He stopped in front of her, his brown hair hung messily over his forehead, and his blue-green eyes glinted dangerously. “All available to me.” He ran a warm finger over her hipbone, and her mouth went dry, panic tightening her throat.

“Please . . .”

Master Kyler grinned, and his features twinkled with a seductive edge. “Sweetie, you don’t have to say please for me to touch you. I’d be glad to.”

No.

Presley tried to find her voice, but it seemed stuck behind a wall she couldn’t get past. Her lips parted, and as much as she attempted to reach for it, it remained too far away.

A hard slap on her thigh startled her, jarring her into focus, but before she could speak, Master Kyler added, “I’ve wanted to touch your sexy little body. Now look, I can.” His hand moved over her stomach, and she tried to get away, move back from his touch, but the bondage pinned her.

His fingers traveled up her stomach and reached just below her breast, and with his knuckles, he tickled under her bra. She gritted her teeth in disgust, fought to get the right words out to stop this, but her throat closed further. “I . . .”

“I want more.” Master Kyler gave her a look that might make some women melt, but her body went ice-cold under his touch. “Yes, that’s why I’m with you, Presley, to touch you.” He caressed down over her hip, then he walloped her again on the thigh with an extremely hard hit.

She gasped, not only from the pain searing up her leg but at the terror consuming her and muddling up her thoughts. Only one thought came to her mind, and she shouted, “Master Dmitri.”

“I’m here.”

She jerked her head to the side and found him sitting on a stool not too far away. His eyes were transfixed on her, blazing with a powerful emotion she couldn’t understand, but he didn’t approach her.

Oh, God, he’d given Master Kyler permission to touch her.

“Such a frightened sub,” Master Kyler murmured, snapping her head to him, and he stroked the contours of her body with long drags of his fingers.

Dread made her stomach churn, the ropes around her shook with the trembling of her body, and the metal hooks clattered against the stone wall. “No,” she finally managed, even if she didn’t know if she meant no to whatever Master Dmitri planned, or no to Master Kyler’s hands on her.

“Sounds like a yes to me.”

Master Kyler smacked her thigh again, forcing a loud gasp from her mouth. He leaned against the wall next to her and gave a dark smile. “That terror in your eyes makes me ache to fuck you, Presley. I’m going to use you up, nice and good, and enjoy hearing you whimper when I drive into your slick cunt.”

She frantically shook her head and shut her eyes to avoid him, wishing for this all to go away. How could Master Dmitri do this to her? He knew this was her hard limit—being touched by other Doms—and he had disregarded it. Presley fought to think clearly, find a way out, but her mind spun.

The whole damn night had undone her. Now her confusion only deepened. She had trusted Master Dmitri, and she didn’t want to disappoint him. She didn’t want to fail, and she wanted to please him, but no, she didn’t like this. Why had he done this to her?

Master Kyler tickled right above her breasts, snapping her eyes open. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t touched her breasts; she’d never been so violated. “You’ve got beautiful, perky tits, pet,” he said. “Perfect to squeeze when I fuck you from behind.” With his gaze trained on hers, which shined of wicked intentions, he ran his fingers down her stomach . . .
No. No. No.

Dragging his fingers across the rim of her panties, he then trailed down each thigh. “This cunt will be
mine
tonight, sub. All mine to lick, fuck, and own.”

Sweat slid down her spine, and the room somersaulted around her. She blinked to hold her focus. More than how wrong Master Kyler’s touch was and how much she wanted him to stop, a harsh pain tore through her at Master Dmitri’s betrayal.

She’d grown to care about him, and maybe she’d allowed herself to believe something more existed between them. But how could he care for her if he allowed another man to touch her? With that came the realization that she’d fooled herself, he was no different than Steven, and this shattered her heart.

An unbearable agony ripped through her, reminding her of the pain the night Steven told her of his affair. With the broken pieces of her heart reopening, she didn’t find sadness anymore. Rage consumed her.

She was tired of men betraying her, fed up of being
that
woman who took a knife to the heart. She didn’t want Master Kyler’s hands on her body. She didn’t want Master Dmitri ever to look at her again. She wanted them all to go away, just like she wanted with Steven.

Master Kyler’s touch moved lower in a slow slide as he traced her inner thighs, so close to the sides of her panties. His fingers moved in toward the junction between her legs, closer . . . closer . . . and closer . . .

A fire stormed into her muscles, which caused them to clench and her fists to tighten. The wall in her mind crashed down, as if for the first time, she saw things clearly. A drive from within, holding intense power and conviction, ripped through her veins and she shouted, “Get your fucking hands off me! Dragon!”

Master Kyler yanked his hand away so fast. The scary edge to his features was gone, replaced by warmth, and he winked. “That a girl.” Without another word, he strode off, leaving her reeling with anger.

Her body trembled with hot fury she couldn’t possibly control, and when strong hands touched her and the woodsy scent of Dmitri filled her nostrils, she roared, “You’re an asshole.” Refusing to look at
him,
she jerked to get away, but the damn ropes wouldn’t allow her to escape. “Let me go, Dmitri. Right fucking now!” She had purposely left off the
Master,
because he didn’t deserve her respect, and she hoped it dug at him.

He caught her face in his gentle grip, forcing her to look at him. His eyebrow lifted over dark, stormy eyes. “While I’m pleased that you’re able to call someone that, I am
not
an asshole, love.”

“You broke my hard limits,” she shouted in his face. “You broke the trust.”

“Think, doll,” he said, cool and collected. “Did Master Kyler touch your mouth, breasts, vagina, or anus?” He paused, but she stayed too angry to speak, and he added, “My orders to him were firm. He didn’t touch any of those places. He went near them, yes. Said he wanted to touch them, yes. But he never touched you in a way he said he planned to.
That
is your hard limit, not a simple touch.”

She blinked, trying desperately to hang on to her rage, even if what he said was the truth. “You sat there. You watched him touch me.”

“Yes, I did.” Darkness seeped into his features, his voice taut with tension. “And I did
not
enjoy watching that, Presley.”

“Then why did you do it?” she yelled, pulling against the ropes, trying to break free to somehow cause him bodily harm. “You know I don’t want to be touched by other men. You betrayed me.”

“No,” he bit off, ice-cold. She froze. He leaned into her face and said with slow precision, “Steven betrayed you. He deserves the wrath I see now and that anger in your eyes. Yet you don’t offer it to him, but you will to me?”

Though she was parting her lips to offer another spate of insults, she instantly closed her mouth and processed what he’d said. With her anger dissolving, reason started to drift up and what he stated made its way into her mind. “That’s why you did this? To make me voice my anger? To use my safe word?”

“In a controlled situation, yes.” His head tilted, and he looked at her in his examining way. “Nothing happens in a scene that I haven’t put a lot of thought behind. Now I know you have the ability to respect your own thoughts, love. Earlier tonight, I wasn’t sure you did.”

He waited a moment for her to process, and he must’ve liked what he saw in her expression, since he added, “It pleases me that you told Master Kyler what was going on in your mind instead of being
nice
. Even that you put me in my place quite firmly.” He tipped his chin down, staring her in the eye. “How can I demand that you stand up for yourself if I have no idea whether you can do it?” Grasping her hips, he pulled her tight against him, and the rope burned at her wrists and ankles. “You’re a special woman. Perfect just as you are. Not standing up for yourself gives away a piece of your heart every time, and that is a shame.”

BOOK: Claimed
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ads

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