Dark Citadel (3 page)

“I was dating him.” She studied her fingers. “He’s usually a nice man. I’m not sure why he was like that tonight.”

The idea of dominance brought out more than just true Dominants. Perverts, control freaks, and general assholes were plentiful. “You need to be careful about who you trust when you’re getting into any kind of power exchange. That’s why the class is Masters of the Shadowlands: Dark Citadel

11

restricted to this room tonight. No one goes anywhere private.” He put his arm across her shoulders, pulling her closer. Curves and softness. Delightful. “Have you ever been married?”

“No. Engaged once, but it didn’t work out.” The muscles around her eyes tightened…a past hurt? Before he could quiz her, she asked hastily, “How about you?

Are you married or involved?”

The unexpected question stabbed through him, and he forced his voice to stay even. “No. My wife died a few years ago. A car accident.”

“I’m so sorry.” She laid her hand on his cheek. “Do you have children?”

He shook his head. “She wanted to wait. She said she was having too much fun to want to slow down.” At times, he could be grateful he wasn’t responsible for a child; other times, he ached for someone to love.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“Thank you.” Her sympathy touched him inside, lightened the heavy feeling in his gut. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to the center.

She smiled at him, her eyes gentle…and pulled her hand back.

Her retreat returned him to the present. So the little miss might be shy, but not when someone needed comfort.

“Um—Mas—”

“So many worries. If ‘Master Dan’ feels awkward, call me Sir. Any other designation here will get you in trouble.”

She frowned. “All right, but—”

He interrupted, taking her hand. “So, Kari. We get a variety of people on beginners’ nights. Some have used bondage and such at home, sometimes for years. Do you have any experience at all?”

“Not really. I…we…Buck wanted to tie my hands, and I wouldn’t let him.” Her muscles tensed, and she tugged at her hand. “I probably don’t belong here. Not really.

I’m not—”

He chuckled but didn’t release her hand or move his arm from her shoulders.

“You know, if someone like Buck tried to tie me up, I’d run for the hills. All that shows is your body has better taste in men than your mind.”

She blinked. Relaxed a little.

“What does your body say about being with me?” he asked. “Do you feel safe?”

Glancing away from him, she considered, and her brows drew together. “Pretty much. Yes.” She sounded surprised.

“All right then. Now tell me about your fiancé. Did you two try anything?”

Her lips curved up. “Oh, no. The thought would have appalled him.”

He traced a finger over her plump lips, and her gaze darted to him. “So no experience at all. Why are you here?”

12 Cherise Sinclair

She looked down, pulled in a long breath, and raised those gorgeous eyes back to his. “Buck told me about domination and bondage, and I didn’t realize real people do…it. I’ve never been that interested in sex, but when I heard about this, I was…”

“Turned on?”

She nodded. “But honestly, I don’t think this will work for me. I’m very… I’m not the type of person who—”

“You’re modest. Polite. Obey the rules.”

Relief at being understood showed in her eyes. “Yes. Exactly. My father was quite devout and very strict with my sister and me. Catholic girls’ school, no dating in high school, no makeup. She rebelled; I was the good daughter.” She gave him a sidelong look. “I’m very repressed.”

He laughed. Not so repressed that she’d lost her sense of humor. Still, that explained a lot. Dan fingered her tight French braid, glanced at the dress buttoned to her neck. She wouldn’t find this easy.

“So you see, I’m probably wasting your time. I’m very sorry.”

Now he knew about her background, he thought she’d been brave just to come here. Should he let her go? He thought about the way her eyes had heated at just a simple command. “Let’s talk a little longer and see.”

Her foot pointed to the door, but her fingers still gripped his hand. She wanted and didn’t want. Did she have any idea how that type of dichotomy could entice a Dom?

“All right.” She raised her chin.

“All right,” he echoed. “We’ve established you have no experience. How about fantasies?”

Masters of the Shadowlands: Dark Citadel

13

Chapter Three

Kari felt herself turn red.

“Well, she has fantasies.” He grinned. “Good. A gorgeous barbarian chasing you down and taking you against your will? Have you had that one?”

“I—” She bit her lower lip. Was she wearing an I-have-kinky-dreams brand or something?

“I would enjoy chasing you; I wonder if you’d enjoy being caught?” His hand cupped her cheek, turning her head so he could kiss her. Ever so lightly, his mouth teased hers, coaxing her to respond. He had firm lips, but smooth, and she moved closer, wanting more. He traced her lips with his tongue, nibbled on her bottom lip, and when she opened for him, he swept inside, sending her senses reeling.

When he pulled back, her fingers were clamped on his upper arms. She fought to catch her breath. A furnace seemed to have started in her body. God, she wanted to kiss him some more.

He smiled and traced her wet lips with his finger. “Save our place,” he whispered.

Kari blinked, realized a woman stood beside the couch, her gaze on the floor. She wore a red latex corset, a short black skirt, and wrist cuffs. How long had she been standing there?

“Tabitha.”

“Master Dan, may I bring you and your companion something to drink?”

“Kari, what would you like? No, let me see how close I can get.” He studied her, and a crease appeared in his cheek with his smile. “It would have to be like you. Sweet.

Not exotic, but straightforward. Honest. A screwdriver or perhaps rum and Coke?”

Her jaw dropped. “Rum and Diet Coke. How did you know?”

14 Cherise Sinclair

He nodded at Tabitha, and the young woman disappeared. “Yes, let’s talk about that. Part of a Dominant-submissive relationship is—” His eyes glinted with amusement. “Ah, even the words make you blush. Such a lovely pink.”

And she could feel her face turning redder with the compliment, darn him. She’d taken her turn at teaching sex education classes and never blushed once. Why now?

“Dominant. Submissive,” he said clearly. “Say the words for me, Kari.”

Well, that wasn’t asking too much, considering where she was. “Dominant.

Submissive,” she said, managing to speak a little louder than a whisper—maybe not much.

His smile was like a reward. “Good. Shall I give you a harder assignment?
I
am a
Dominant
.” He tilted his head at her to finish.

“I—I—” But she wasn’t. Not really… Was she? It was one thing to be thinking about being, well,
controlled
in bed, and quite another to apply an actual label to herself.

Labels had meaning. And made everything far too real. This was just supposed to be…an
experiment
.

“Mmmph, that
is
a hard admission, not one you are ready for. Let’s put a limit on it then. For the next hour, until nine o’clock, I am a Dominant.”

She could do an hour. In fact, that’s exactly what she wanted to do. “For the next hour, until nine o’clock, I am a submissive,” she said firmly.

And she shivered.

That smile again. “Brave girl.”

Tabitha arrived with their drinks, set them on the table quietly, and departed without a word. “Is she a submissive?”

He handed over her drink, took his. “Yes. In training here.”

Training. You had to train to be ordered around?

The skin around his eyes crinkled with humor. “You’re here for three evenings of classes.” He stroked his knuckles along her jaw. “Training is for those wanting to go deeper into the lifestyle, not something you need to worry about.”

“Okay. Good.” She sipped her drink, blinked at the strength, and sipped again.

“How many people end up drunk?”

“None.” He drank some of his, clear as water, and set it back on the table. “Master Z limits everyone to two drinks.”

Now how could they enforce that? Then she remembered how Sir’s big hand had gripped Buck’s shoulder, and she felt a tickle of laughter. Enforcement obviously wasn’t a problem. And she should pay for her own drink. She fumbled at the pocket of her dress where she’d tucked her key and some money. “The barmaid didn’t say what my rum and Coke cost.”

“No cost. Drinks are included in membership fees, or for you, the price of the class.”

Masters of the Shadowlands: Dark Citadel

15

Oh. She put her hands back in her lap. “What happens now?”

“Now we simply talk about what suits your needs.”

She stared down into her drink, watching the bubbles. His silence had her looking up, right into his observant eyes.

“Needs is another word that bothers you,” he said. “Talking about sex isn’t something you do, is it?”

What, did he have some sort of view into her head? “It wasn’t an acceptable topic of conversation when I was growing up, no.” Her father could expound for hours on purity and innocence without ever saying the sex word.

“Mmmph, in that case, let me run through some options, and we’ll take it from there.”

Options sounded good. Were there options that were the equivalent of sticking one toe in the water? She took another sip of her drink. “All right.”

“I have one request first.”

A request in this place might involve just about anything. She eyed him warily.

Nodded.

“Can I get you to sit on my lap while we talk?” He ran a finger over her lower lip, slowly, and she grew aware of how soft her own lips were. His mouth curved up in a wicked smile. “I promise not to put my hands anywhere you don’t want them.”

“But why would I sit on your lap?”

“Sweetheart, it will make it easier for you; sex isn’t something to be discussed at arm’s length, now is it?”

Sex. With him. She might consider this evening an experiment, but sex wasn’t that way. It was personal. He’d be touching her. Intimately. But she wanted this; she really did. “All right.”

She set her drink on the table and rose to her feet, smoothing her dress down. He slid into her place. Reclining back against the armrest, he put his legs up and pulled her into his lap.

With her feet still on the floor, she sat stiffly until he laughed and pulled her down against his chest, her head in the hollow of his shoulder. Sit on his lap? This was more like snuggling…and pretty nice. After a moment, she let her hand rest on his bare chest where the vest had fallen away. She ruffled the crisp hair, tracing her fingers over the hard contours of his chest. He was so darned big, she actually felt tiny next to him—

well, on top of him—like her weight was nothing to him.

His voice rumbled through his chest. “There we go. You fit into my arms very nicely—a nice, soft armful.”

His obvious enjoyment warmed her, made her feel feminine and attractive, something she’d been missing for a while now. For two years, actually, since Curt had left her for some hot, skinny artist.

16 Cherise Sinclair

“What was that thought?” Dan asked. She could feel his fingers in her hair, unpinning the French braid.

“Noth—”

“Kari.”

She could hear the warning in his voice, and somehow she didn’t want to disappoint him. “I was thinking about my ex-fiancé.”

“And?”

“And how fat and frigid he made me feel, okay?” she snapped and tried to sit up, but he tucked an arm across her waist and held her in place. Easily.

“Stay here, little one.” He laughed, a low, growling sound. “You have a temper buried under all that politeness. I wonder what else is buried down there.”

“I’m sorry.” He’d only been nice to her, and she’d lashed out.

“I’m not. You know, with both the temper and the worries about your size, you remind me of Z’s sub. Personally I like women with some padding. I like lush.” He stroked up to just under her breasts, and she froze.

“And curvy.” He ran his hand across her hip, squeezed her bottom, continued down her thigh. Everywhere his hand touched, her skin wakened like spring after a hard winter, and warmth washed through her.

“You have the loveliest fair skin,” he murmured, trailing his fingers down her arm. “Soft and creamy, and those pillowy lips of yours would tempt an angel to sin. I’m no angel.” His hand tangled in her loose hair, tipping her head back, and his mouth settled on hers. His lips were firm, demanding, opening hers and taking possession without mercy.

When he pulled back, she was breathing hard, her hand fisted in his vest. God, the man could kiss.

“And only an idiot would call you cold,” he murmured. “Now, back to business.

First of all, I need to find out what kind of a submissive you might be. I think I know, but let’s be sure.”

“Submissives come in different types?” How could she know so little? When she got home, she was going to take a hammer to that stupid dead computer. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. Can we try multiple choice?”

He laughed. “All right.
A:
You want to serve a master, making him meals, doing whatever he wants, around the house or in bed.
B:
You want to play a role for a short time, be a schoolgirl or a secretary, but you’d set up your own rules with your top—ah, the person in charge.
C:
You want to give up control for sex but not especially for anything else.
D:
You like pain and want someone to deal it out.”

That was quite a list. “People really want all those different things?”

“Oh, definitely. That was just the short list.” He tugged on her hair. “Give me a letter, sweetheart.”

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17

Well, she knew what she wanted. Why the heck couldn’t she be as blasé about sex as her friends were? She wet her lips. “
C.
We—I came here—” She sighed. “
C
.”

“Good enough,” he said easily. “Choice
C
for sex.”