Her Highland Master (The Dungeon Fantasy Club Book 1) (6 page)

Selecting the products she wanted, she removed the robe and spent the next thirty minutes luxuriating in the shower. How often in her lifetime would she have the opportunity to enjoy a shower with four nozzles, large enough to fit four people comfortably, with a bench? Probably never again, and she milked it for all it was worth, pampering her skin with a sugar scrub from a Swiss spa, using the shampoo and conditioner from the same brand. The trio likely cost a small fortune.

Zoey took her time after the shower moisturizing her skin, washing her face, drying her hair and brushing it until it shone. The clothes the housekeeper had left her were obviously for men and then it hit her. These were Declan's clothes. The black tee-shirt was butter smooth and fit her like a dream, hitting her mid-thigh. It smelled like he did; dark, sensual, with a hint of earthy sandalwood and something darker. She resisted the urge to bury her face in the fabric and inhale his scent, but just barely. The black satin pajama bottoms were a bust, though. Even attempting to roll up the legs didn't help keep the too-big pants on her hips.

She re-wrapped the robe around her. Hopefully they would be able to rescue her suitcase in the morning. Her stomach growled as she left the room, making a mental note of its location and proximity to the elevator. She rode it down to the first floor and went in search of the kitchen. She didn't want to wake anyone up at this hour and preferred to rummage for food herself. Most of the lights on the first floor had been dimmed but retained a faint golden glow, even at this hour of the night. She wandered silently through the first floor until she discovered the kitchen. Walking inside, her eyes widened. It was a kitchen large enough to run a restaurant. In fact, she'd waitressed through college, and the kitchens she'd worked at in Los Angeles hadn't been this grand. Maybe over on Rodeo Drive, but still, there were half a dozen or more ovens. On one side there was station after station with burners, professional grills, and all sorts of chef equipment she'd seen on those cooking shows but didn't think people owned in real life. It was something she had always wanted to do, and she had even considered and been accepted to culinary school, until her parents convinced her that a business degree was a far more practical than a degree from a culinary institute.

It made her wonder what her life would be like if she'd thumbed her nose at convention and had gone after what she'd really loved doing. Maybe it was something she should consider once she returned to her life.

Zoey opened a few doors and pantry closets until she hit the motherload inside a refrigerator. Fresh fruit, an assortment of cheeses, and in one pantry, shortbread biscuits that looked like they were homemade and not of the store-bought variety. She found ivory plates after another search, and fixed herself a small meal. She ate standing next to one of the counters. After helping herself to a glass of chardonnay she found in a refrigerated wine case, she ate more than she thought she would. The peaches were so damn good she just couldn't keep herself from indulging, and the cheese, a nutty sharp cheese, balanced the sweetness of the peaches to perfection.

Finishing up her midnight meal, she cleaned up after herself, setting the dishes in the sink.

She wandered around on the first floor, her energy a restless jumble of nerves. Declan would expect a decision from her in the morning and she was no closer to knowing whether she would accept or not. Needing to walk off the excess energy if she ever wanted to get back to sleep tonight, she went on a self-guided tour of the first floor. The artwork and ancient artifacts were stunning. If she remembered her art appreciation class in college correctly, she thought many of them were the original masterpieces; a Van Gogh, a Monet, and other impressionistic artists, and some modern artists she'd never heard of but was certain that, due to the company they were in, were nothing but the best. All the pieces were the type of thing one normally saw in museums like she had the other day in Edinburgh. One of the hallways she ventured down was darker than the others. At the end of it, where it came to a dead end, she found an old, dark wooden stairwell leading downstairs to the off-limits dungeon level.

What the hell went on in the dungeon? Why had Declan asked her not to visit that level without him? What would it really hurt to go down there at this time of night? She'd always had an overabundance of curiosity.

Too interested in the semi-forbidden nature of the lower level, Zoey tiptoed down the stone stairs. She'd just take a peek, then be out of there before anyone was aware of her presence. The stairs descended circularly, yet more of an ancient relic and a testament to the past history of the manor, until she found herself in the lower level.

Zoey was somewhat deflated by its appearance. It wasn't what she had expected. In her mind, she had conjured up a medieval dungeon filled with crimping irons and all manner of torture devices. Instead of tools that would have made a member of the Inquisition's day, there were low LED lights illuminating a hallway that appeared to run the length of the building. The wide hallway had rooms made of glass lining both sides. Inside each room were black curtains, which appeared to be Declan's decorating color of choice, many of them drawn for privacy.

Leaving the stairwell behind, she hesitated when she heard a woman's moan emit from the room nearest her on the right. While the curtain was semi drawn, the light inside the room was enough so that she could make out the silhouettes of a man and woman. The woman was reclining on a couch, her arms chained above her head, her breasts shaking as she moaned louder. The man knelt on the floor between her spread thighs, his face buried in her crotch.

Zoey should have been embarrassed at the wild abandon of the woman's pleasured cries rising and filling her ears. Except she wasn't embarrassed—if anything, she craved knowing what it felt like to have a man lavish you with that much pleasure.

Zoey stood rooted to the spot by the untold ecstasy within the woman's fervent keening. The man obviously knew what he was doing as the woman began thrashing her head, her cries becoming more urgent mewling noises. Zoey felt her nipples harden and her sex pulsed as the man brought the woman to a screaming orgasm. And that had only been with his mouth. She'd never had a boyfriend get her off with oral before.

Entranced, and more turned on than she was willing to admit, Zoey walked further into the dungeon. The sounds of people having sex increased. Some of the room doors were open, some closed. In one of the closed rooms with the curtains fully drawn, she distinctly heard the sound of a male and female groaning in unison, along with the sound of slapping flesh. The people in the rooms she could see into, all seemed to be doing some type of bondage as part of the sex act itself. Most were handcuffed and chained, some used rope, and other materials. So this was what Declan had meant by the BDSM lifestyle. He wanted to tie her up and have sex with her. The image of that was so erotic and foreign to Zoey that she whimpered a little. The thought of allowing Declan to tie her up like that one couple, eating her out until she came so hard she was screaming caused her to feel moisture at her center.

She continued forward until she reached an open area with all sorts of equipment that she didn't understand; one of which was a huge, circular cross suspended from the ceiling. But what drew her rapt attention was the scene taking place in the room's center. A blonde woman was bent over a sawhorse, her wrists and feet chained, with her rear canted up in the air. Her naked, voluptuous breasts spilled over the sawhorse, her nipples had small silver chains clamped over them. She keened on a wail, her face awash with flushed pleasure as the big male standing behind her spanked her across the rear with his hand. Zoey heard the crack of his hand as the woman screamed, but instead of being repulsed, felt her own sex thump in time with the spanking. Would Declan want to tie her up like that and spank her? Did she want him to? Pleasure flooded her body at the thought. She could tell the blonde woman was thoroughly enjoying the man's not-so-tender ministrations.

Zoey's shock was complete when she recognized that the man doling out the punishment was Declan's gorgeous, ginger-haired butler, Jared. He stood as naked as the day was long. Zoey had thought he was attractive with his clothes on but without them he was spectacular. His body appeared chiseled and hewn from granite, reminding her of a swimmer's build, all sleek and sinewy. With every movement, his muscles rippled and flexed. His washboard abs were covered with a fine dusting of darker hair, sort of a mix of ginger and brown, that gave him a more rugged carnal appearance. It trailed down into a single happy trail that ended at his large, engorged penis. The sight of him, heady with passion, commanding the blonde's desire, about to fuck her, made Zoey's breath strangle in her throat.

The scene before her, if she was totally honest with herself, was straight out of her deepest and darkest fantasies.

Jared spoke in a commanding tone to the blonde. "Come for me, now."

He gave her ass one more good swat but didn't draw his hand back, and from what it looked like at that angle he had driven his fingers into the woman's sex. Zoey felt herself flame as she heard the woman orgasm like she would bring the roof down. Jared stroked her, his arm thrusting back and forth, wringing every bit of the orgasm from her body, and then the woman moaned as he spread the white globes of her rear. Then the woman's ardent moans truly started as Zoey watched Jared fist himself, rubbing the long thick length of his erection against her, before he plunged into her from behind in one hard plunge. The blonde gasped, mewling sounds erupting from her lips as Jared pumped his pelvis, hammering his cock inside her.

Zoey felt herself breathing heavily as she imagined Jared doing all those things to her and realized she was envious of the blonde. What would it feel like to be that uninhibited, to feel that loss of control, to know that she couldn't move and was at his mercy as he fucked her mindless?

She didn't know what was wrong with her. This was not the way she had been raised. Sex was something that was always done in the dark with someone you knew, usually missionary or some other boring position. And as for passion, Zoey had thought she was just an oddity, that the normal, missionary-style, bland sex she had experienced with lackluster enthusiasm had meant there was something wrong with her.

Jared's hips were slamming into the woman, who was so delirious with pleasure she thrashed her head back and forth. Zoey shifted slightly and must have somehow alerted him to the fact that someone was watching because he swiveled his head in her direction, gazed at her, and then something about her appearance made him smile. Then, instead of watching the woman he was fucking into oblivion, he stared at Zoey as he brought the keening, shuddering woman to orgasm in front of Zoey's rapt gaze, not once, not twice, but three times before his own orgasm hit on a roar. Zoey's body shook when his pelvis slammed against the blonde, his hard thrusts pumping as his own release careened over him. He kept moving, and thrusting, drawing his own orgasm out until she could tell he was fully spent inside the blonde, but he never once took his eyes off Zoey.

Large hands grabbed Zoey's hips from behind. "I can smell your arousal, lass. You enjoyed watching Jared fuck Sherry, didn't you?"

There was no point in denying it. "Yes."

"Thank you for being honest with me. Especially since we have to deal with your disobedience."

Zoey whipped her head around, sputtering, "What do you mean?"

"I told you if you ventured down here without me you would be punished." Declan led her over to a couch in the courtyard area. She was too stunned to do anything more than follow. When they reached the black leather love seat, he pushed the robe off her shoulders. When she tried to keep it on, his strength won out.

"No." She tried to back away. "I'm sorry I came down here, but I don't think that means you can do whatever you want to me."

"If you had not come down here by yourself then I wouldn't be forced to punish you. I can see that your encroachment into the club was merely due to curiosity on your part. While understandable, it's still against the rules, which is why your punishment will be lighter than I normally would do but it will still be carried out. This is non-negotiable. Now, come here." He sat, pulling her with him. What was he going to do to her?

She squirmed as he lay her face down over his lap. She felt him shove the shirt up above her rear, exposing her ass for all to see.

Oh, hell no.

Zoey bucked, kicking her legs out, and Declan held her down with one arm over her middle. His hand connected with a sharp thwack against her butt and she screeched, "Ow, you bastard. Put me down."

He flipped her over and brought her face up near him. His expression was stern as he scolded her. "I do not take name-calling lightly, lass. While you are here, you will respect me. I was going to go a bit lighter on you since this is your first offense, but thanks to that smart mouth of yours, I can clearly see you need a lesson in obedience."

"I'm sorry."

"I accept your apology and believe you are sorry, but that is not going to stop your punishment, only delay it."

He flipped her back over onto her stomach, positioning her once again until her rear was bared for all to see. A crowd had begun to form around the couch—which included Jared. Zoey turned her face away from them all as the first smack landed.

Her eyes stung with tears. She was leaving this place as soon as Declan let her up. She didn't care if she had to walk all night in the snow. Zoey sucked in a breath at the pain in the next slap. Her posterior burned, flaming with every swat. His hand connected again and again, and Zoey felt herself break open wide. Tears streamed uncontrollably down her face.

She sobbed as Declan righted her body and pulled her close.

"It's all over, sweet lass. Let it out." He stroked his hand over her back, offering her comfort after the punishment. He handed her some tissues.

"I don't like being disobeyed, Zoey. It was not just because of your disobedience, but for your own protection that I had to discipline you, do you understand? Since you don't know the rules of our club, you couldn't possibly know that any unattached sub who enters is consenting to be willing and available to have sex with any Dom here."