Her Highland Master (The Dungeon Fantasy Club Book 1) (14 page)

"I got your message. So you're staying in some aristocrat's home? Where did you come up with the money for that?" Lucy's voice made her a little homesick. She and Lucy were as close as sisters. Lucy always helped her get out of, what Lucy termed, her 'pity party table for one' moods. Without her friendship, and ability to draw her out of her shell at times, Zoey would never have survived her parents' deaths.

"He's not charging me. Declan has been the consummate host." She wondered how much she should tell Lucy. Would she be horrified, disappointed, or concerned?

"It's Declan, huh? Spill. Leave out nothing." And that was why they were such good friends. Lucy knew without much prompting that there was something more going on.

Taking a deep breath, Zoey explained everything that had happened to the car and the bed and breakfast, then the offer from Declan. Lucy didn't interrupt her story, she was like that. A real listener, which made Zoey spill her guts even more. Maybe she had just needed to talk to someone else about it. Make sure she wasn't crazy.

"I knew your voice sounded different." Lucy laughed outright, sounding pleased.

"It does? How did you guess?" Zoey giggled.

"Sweetie, this is the first time you have sounded happy in a long time, that's how. As much as I love you, sometimes I worry that you were too uptight and in control to actually live a little. This is good for you. Did you think I'd censure you? All I want is for you to be happy. Hearing about this makes me really pleased for you. You deserve this. It's about time you had fun, and if this Declan guy really does it for you, then I say have at him. You're not a nun so stop acting like it."

"He does. I don't know, he makes me feel incredible, and feminine, and oh my god, the sex," Zoey gushed.

"I'm officially jealous. So is it true what they say about Scotsmen? Do they really have bigger penises than the rest of the world?"

Zoey snickered. Lucy hooted. Then they both howled like banshees. And Zoey proceeded to describe in detail all the juicy tidbits about Declan. They spent the next ten minutes discussing Lucy's latest conquest before saying goodbye.

Zoey did feel like a new woman. That was Declan's doing. And Lucy knew about her relationship with Declan. Her bubbly assurances of support for Zoey's choices helped settle some of the lingering doubts she'd had with regards to sleeping with him.

Zoey felt she knew him much better, was anticipating the night ahead. Speaking of which, she wanted to go invade Mrs. Stewart's kitchen and cook dinner for the two of them. Declan was in meetings with New York and said he couldn't be interrupted. It wouldn't be breaking his rules if she had his meal delivered and then left. She'd have Jared show her where it was, since she wasn't entirely certain where his office was in this place.

Not wanting to waste any more time in bed—at least, not alone—Zoey made herself presentable before heading to the kitchen. The thought of the night ahead caused her belly to flutter and she noticed how light her heart felt.

*****

What a day. Declan's offices in New York wanted to cut costs by reducing pensions for all the staff but the board and the president. That was not how he did business. His father before him had, but Declan had never thought that harming your employees and then taking more for yourself was a justified and honorable way of doing business. In his estimation, that was the fastest way to sow discord with your workers and in the end possibly go out of business. As the largest stockholder in the company, he was able to override their vote. Instead of cutting the lower level, he reduced bonuses for the president and the board. If they wanted to actually earn that money back, they needed to become more resourceful and make profits climb by their ingenuity, not by backstabbing the staff they depended on.

It was already past ten, and the meal Jared had brought him hours before had cooled. Zoey, it seemed, had cooked for him. He liked the hominess of it, of her cooking for him. Even cool, the beef Spedini was exceptional. Zoey had a talent in the kitchen. Famished from the long day, Declan wolfed it down. Her desire to please him filled his dominant heart. She was so vulnerable and animated. He'd never had a woman unfurl and blossom before the way Zoey was doing. While she hadn't been a virgin, she had been ignorant of the BDSM lifestyle, making her initiation and introduction to his world special. He felt he had claimed her. Her stumbling onto his doorstep had been the best thing to happen in his life in ages.

It did bother him that she was unemployed. It was the only issue that sent up any red flags. He was doing his damndest to ignore his misgivings and enjoy the bounty her little body offered. Just because Jenna had only wanted him for his money didn't mean Zoey did as well. Declan rubbed his chest; Zoey had blasted her way inside an organ in which he'd thought he would never feel anything for another woman again. With that, he left his office to search for her. She was leaving in four days. He wanted to try and convince her to stay longer.

At her room, he knocked on the door and waited. He didn't hear any movement coming from the other side so he knocked again. Was she sleeping? He wouldn't blame her if she had fallen asleep. After the last twenty-four hours, he'd be more surprised if she weren't a little more tired from all the love play. Still not getting a response, he opened the door and entered.

The room was empty.

Where had the little minx gone? He checked the bathroom and, discovering that empty as well, left her room to search for her. After searching the top three floors, he checked in with Mrs. Stewart.

"Sorry, I haven't seen her since supper. I'm sure she will turn up, likely just in a room you haven't checked yet."

Declan sucked in a breath. He would tan her hide if she had gone down to the dungeon again without him. He gritted his teeth, her backside would be ruby red for a week for her disobedience. Jared was in the elevator when he stepped inside, dressed in leather pants and nothing else. He nodded at Declan.

"Problem, Declan? Where's the sweet American lass?" Jared was always in such a good mood, it wasn't his fault that Declan's mood had turned black at Zoey's possible infraction.

"That's what I'm trying to find out. I think I have a disobedient little sub I'm going to have to discipline." Declan gritted his teeth. He would make her pay for it, too, then fuck her into submission.

Jared grinned. "Well, now. I can't wait to hear her reaction. She certainly has livened up the place."

"That she has," Declan said as the doors opened silently, the light spilling into the dungeon level. He and Jared entered the melee of attendees. It seemed the Inverness and Edinburgh crowds had braved the snowy roads. The place was semi-packed tonight. Only Declan and Jared had access to the elevator; the club-goers had a private entrance at the back of his estate.

"Want a little help disciplining her?" Jared asked.

They had shared women on multiple occasions and it was time he christened her sweet back hole. She'd enjoyed having the both of them pleasure her the other morning. As much as Declan didn't want to share Zoey, he had promised that she would experience more pleasure than she'd ever dreamed. "I might. If you don't mind."

"Not at all. I'll let Sherry mingle with Nick and Shane. They were wanting a threesome with her. I'll find you in a minute." Jared headed toward Sherry in her Goth maid uniform. Carrying a tray of drinks for the patrons, she preened when she spotted Jared. She certainly was beginning to get too attached to his butler. And Declan knew Jared all too well, he was starting to lose interest in her. He always did once they became attached.

The night's festivities were already underway. Declan had four couples who were staying. Normally there were more, but the weather had thinned the herd a bit, keeping some of the regulars away. Things slowed considerably during the winter anyway due to the unpredictable nature of the weather. High season was typically from the beginning of April through September and into October.

Some of the rooms were already occupied, the symphony of moans adding to the low hum of conversation taking place. A scene was happening in the courtyard. It was an open area of the dungeon for the more adventurous who liked having others watch them during sex. Each area was roped off, the only measure of privacy for the couples enacting a scene. Declan had done his fair share of scenes in the courtyard, and wondered how Zoey would react to having other people watch her. Master Bill had his little sub Carmen up on the St. Andrews Cross and was whipping her.

Declan spotted Zoey in a small group of onlookers, looking fresh-faced and awash with sexual need. His little sub liked watching. How would she react to others watching her? That was, of course, after he had punished her.

*****

Zoey couldn't believe how many people were in the Dungeon tonight. She felt like she was in an exclusive LA club, not in the Highlands of Scotland. And a club whose couture was leather and corsets, too, there was so much skin on display. She felt distinctly overdressed and worried that she stuck out like a beacon because of it.

Music pulsed low, ramping up the sensual vibe. She tried to stay as inconspicuous as possible. Her gaze was drawn to the man and woman in the large open area at the large, X-shaped cross thingy. The man was tall and thickly built, a bit older, and he was whipping a woman who was suspended on the cross. Zoey didn't like pain, didn't care for it one bit. She took aspirin when she broke a nail. But she couldn't help noticing the way the Dom's attention was solely focused on the woman, moving the strokes around her body in a calculated manner so that she was moaning loudly for all to hear.

The man knelt before the woman's spread legs and began eating her out. Zoey felt her own pussy clench in desire as she watched him make her come. The woman screamed her release and Zoey was surprised that she didn't bring the rafters down. Need swirled inside her and she felt moisture flood her pussy. After all the blissful sex she'd had with Declan, she'd thought it would be nigh on impossible for her to be this turned on and needy. She wondered what it would feel like to be on display like that so that everyone could see her gleaming pussy. The Dom had penetrated his sub now, standing there, fucking her for all to see, and Zoey could tell the woman was in such a pleasure haze that having other people watch her have sex was the furthest thing from her mind.

As if thinking about him had conjured him up, Zoey felt Declan's hands slide around her waist, pulling her back against him. He nuzzled her neck with his mouth, his beard grazing the sensitive spot, sending tendrils of heat curling down her body.

"I thought I explained that this place was off-limits, lass," he said, disappointment lacing his voice.

"You did, but I thought…" He nipped her ear, his hands had moved up and were cupping her breasts. Heat blasted her and she felt bad that she had disobeyed him. She had just been bored. After Mrs. Stewart had so graciously allowed her to play in her kitchen, with an invitation to return tomorrow, Zoey had wandered the halls feeling lonely. When she spotted Sherry, all decked out in a Goth maid costume that showed more than it hid, she had followed her down.

"I do not like disobedience, lass. I'm afraid you'll have to be punished," he whispered. The first inklings of fear skittered through her system and she stiffened. She didn't like being punished, even the thought of it. What the guy in the courtyard had done to the woman was a hard limit for her. She would not allow Declan to do that to her.

"No, you have no right," Zoey argued; she didn't care whether she had agreed to submit to him. There were just some things she couldn't do, and they were non-negotiable.

He spun her to face him, his face stern. "In this club, I have every right. I will not brook disobedience from you. There are rules that you must follow, one of which is how you address me."

She started to refuse him, but knew she had done exactly what she wanted to do. All the years of being on her own, she was used to doing what she wanted, when she wanted. He had asked her not to come down here without him. Simple, easy. She had ignored the only real rule he had given her when he had been so generous otherwise. Guilt washed over her. That had not been her intent. Hanging her head, she murmured, "Yes, Sir. I apologize, I was just curious and a little bored upstairs."

"Come with me," he ordered, and led her to a sawhorse in the courtyard. Her insides quivered. Head down, she hated seeing the disappointment in his gaze. That was not what she had intended. Tears swam in her eyes as he placed her body over the saw horse and bound her wrists. The club patrons started to gather to watch Declan discipline her. He pushed her jeans down, exposing her buttocks.

"This time I am going to use something other than my hand, since it seems that didn't drive the point home the first time. You will receive fifteen spanks with the paddle."

"No, Declan, I—"

"Did I give you permission to speak, little sub?"

"No, Sir. Sorry, Sir." She heard the crowd titter and closed her eyes in embarrassment, humiliated that these people were going to see her shame.

Zoey held her body taut. The first swat of the wood cracked against her rear and she gasped. Pain burned in her bottom where the blow had landed. The second slap landed on the opposite side, setting up a tidal wave of flames licking over her ass. She whimpered as pain lacerated her posterior and increased with each slap of the paddle. He knew what he was about, the paddle landing each spank with a sure and steady hand. Her body went limp. Tears streaked down her face. She sobbed as quietly as possible, but felt her whole body shake.

"Breathe, my brave little sub. We are almost done," Declan whispered in her ear. He landed three more sharp blows directly in the center, striking both cheeks.

Her ass hurt. She whimpered, hanging her head as he rubbed the inflamed flesh. He undid her restraints, and not bothering to pull her jeans back up, he carried her away from the crowd into one of the unoccupied rooms. The room had minimal equipment. In fact, it was rather barren except for a chain that dangled from the ceiling, a padded bench, an armchair in which he sat, cradling her in his arms, a small table, and an armoire that seemed to be retrofit to every room.