Authors: Cassie Ryan
“Excuse me a moment.” Brent pulled his cell phone out of his pocket as that one word from Sandra still echoed inside his mind—hardening his cock uncomfortably against the back of his fly.
She’d said she was
hungry
, and stupidly, he’d told her they would tackle those things one at a time, openly acknowledging the double entendre.
He stepped out of the elevator and into the hall only partially to use the phone without breaking the illusion that he tried so hard to build around Club Desire. Many of his members told him they suspected him of outright magic, if not extrasensory perception, because he and his staff went the extra mile to anticipate their needs and then exceed their expectations without showing them too much of the mundane behind-the-scenes actions.
He enjoyed the reputation he’d garnered and did all he could to cultivate it. Beyond that, he wanted to impress Sandra more than he had ever wanted to impress anyone he’d ever given a tour of his club to.
She still hadn’t recognized him as the geek pariah from high school who had worshipped her from afar. Although Brent wasn’t sure he wanted her to remember him in case that changed the way she’d been looking at him for the past hour.
Right now he saw the raw need in her eyes every time she turned that amazing gray gaze on him. Whenever he touched her or even spoke to her, those full lips opened and she either flicked her tongue out to moisten them or delicately nibbled on that ripe bottom lip—something that was close to making him lose all his hard-won control and back her up against the nearest wall.
He clenched his jaw against the thought. Not only was she a new member to Club Desire, she hadn’t yet laid out her limits or her permissions. According to Mason’s note, she’d had a rough time with her last Dom and had fled the state to escape the man.
Brent glanced at Sandra again. Even though constant sparks erupted between them, he needed to proceed carefully and try to keep his libido
and
his Dom tendencies in check until she gave him the green light.
But she was making it damn hard for him to keep his head clear—especially when he saw how she reacted to the scene she’d been watching in the lobby while pinching her own nipples and dipping her fingers inside her cunt.
A mental image of Sandra wearing a blue thong with the matching rope tied around her to accentuate those beautiful, full breasts formed inside his mind so clearly he felt like he could reach out and touch it. In his fantasy, her arms were pulled tight over her head and sweet sounds erupted from her throat as his flogger fell to mark that wonderful heart-shaped ass.
He cursed himself, knowing he needed to keep his thoughts from venturing in that direction. For now, he needed to stop torturing himself with mental images of Sandra in erotic scenarios.
He wasn’t sure of the extent of what her last Dom had done to terrorize her, but he might have to put in a call to Mason for specifics unless Sandra willingly told him.
Finally remembering the phone in his hand, he hit speed dial for the kitchens and as quietly as possible ordered some finger food and drinks to be delivered to his main personal alcove on Basement 1. He blew out a long, slow breath, hoping it would bring back at least a small portion of his sanity.
Since Sandra had walked through the front doors of Club Desire, all rational thought seemed to have escaped him, and it reminded him too closely of that awkward, insecure boy he’d been all those years ago and had sworn never to become again.
He stepped back into the elevator with her.
“I’m curious to see the setup of Basement 1.” Her voice held both eagerness and true interest, and he had to force himself not to reach out and pull her against him.
She turned toward him, meeting his gaze squarely. “You mentioned it overlooked Basement 2 and allowed people to watch as well as play.” Curiosity animated her expression and she nibbled that full bottom lip again.
He took a deep breath and forced a few words out. “It took a while to come up with this exact setup, but I think we’ve hit upon a winning solution.”
He hadn’t lied when he’d told Sandra he liked to watch. In fact that’s what had originally interested him about the lifestyle. Something so simple, and yet incredibly erotic. And finding out Sandra shared his interest had only sent his long-denied craving for her into overdrive.
When he’d seen her on the cameras he hadn’t recognized her at first. He’d only seen a sexy blonde in profile enjoying the scene in play on the main dungeon floor.
But when the elevator doors had opened and those familiar gray eyes had locked with his, he felt like he’d been sucker punched in the gut. Mason’s note hadn’t contained her last name, so he hadn’t been prepared.
Her soft voice broke into his thoughts. “If my old dungeon was any indication, watching is quite popular. A safe way to get involved.” She looked almost shy, which made him wonder if watching was what had enticed her into the lifestyle.
“Very true. What kind of setup does Master Mason have now?” He cocked his head to the side and allowed himself to study her lovely features for a long moment. “I haven’t been to his new club. I think he moved into the new property about five years ago.”
“Nothing like this.” She gestured around her, her gaze sweeping left and right as if she were looking at the dungeon floor right now instead of the inside of the elevator. “There are just some couches, benches, and chairs around the periphery of the dungeon floor. It’s common to see people having sex or near-orgies around the edges while they watch the scenes in play.”
Seeing her flushed skin as she described Mason’s club made him realize ten years had only made her more beautiful. She was still trim, but she’d grown into her already heart-stopping curves. No longer was she the young girl with a blossoming body; she was now a fully grown woman in her own right. And she continued to fascinate him. Not only for her beauty and the graceful way she moved, but she was also an intriguing combination of confidence and sensual timidity that threatened to drive him insane.
There were definitely certain things she was leery of and he was committed to finding out why, as well as what caused the haunted look in her eyes. He found that he was feeling extremely protective of her, and angry that anyone had mistreated her in any way. No matter the fact that he hadn’t seen her in ten years and that he’d never been more to her than some geeky outcast she passed in the halls between classes.
He dragged himself back to the present and her description of things in Mason’s club. “That’s exactly why I designated no-sex zones in certain parts of Club Desire. There are those who want to watch the kink in play without having to trip over an orgy to do it.”
The soft chiming of the elevator pulled his attention back to their destination, and he placed a gentle hand on her lower back as the elevator doors whooshed open.
The lights on this level shone discreetly and were kept on, as elite members were allowed access to basement levels 1 and 2 at all times.
But whereas this level had a circular walkway like on Basement 4, Basement 1 had darkened alcoves instead of play areas.
Brent guided Sandra around to the right for quite a while until they neared his personal alcove. Most of the alcoves were sectioned-off spaces separated by soft, moveable walls and heavy, dark floor-to-ceiling curtains that hung down over the front except for right over the doorway. When the inner lock was engaged, a red stop-sign image showed over the door to allow privacy.
His alcove, however, was twice the size of the others, had hard walls, although they were moveable if need be, and required a special key to access it. Also, the image over his door read, “Private. No Admittance,” even when the lock wasn’t engaged.
“You said there were cameras all around the dungeon. That means down here too, right?” Curiosity laced her voice, showing him her embarrassment from earlier had passed.
“Members sign off on surveillance throughout the building in the legalese of the contract. Most never bother to read the full description, but those who do understand the need, since the contract also states the tapes will only be used or released for very specific purposes if the need arises.” He paused as she nibbled her full bottom lip again and then forced himself to continue what he’d been telling her. “It’s more for safety and liability issues than for voyeurism purposes. Jake and the two other dungeon managers who report to him watch the monitors real time to ensure nothing goes on that isn’t safe, sane, legal, and consensual, and I make sure he has discreet and skilled security personnel on duty at all times in case a situation arises that requires their attention.”
He held up his index finger. “However, I do like to have total privacy within my own, personal alcove. It’s good to be the owner.”
“If not the king?” she said softly, showing that she hadn’t missed the Mel Brooks History of the World reference. He couldn’t help but smile. Her lips quirked up at the edges, charming him, and she cleared her throat before speaking.
“I’m surprised there are people who don’t balk at the stipulation of cameras. A lot of very public and important people seem to belong to sex clubs.”
“True, but the specific purposes listed are usually very familiar and agreeable to those who can afford the membership prices to our very elite establishment.”
Sandra stopped short. “Membership prices? I totally forgot about that. I’m sorry. I haven’t even found a job here yet. I don’t think I can afford membership.”
Brent turned her to face him. “Your membership is taken care of for as long as you’d like to be here.”
She faltered, confusion creasing her brow and a frown marring her expression. “But…”
He laid his finger over her lips, silencing what she’d been about to say. “It’s taken care of. Don’t worry about it.”
Her furrowed brow showed him she wasn’t convinced, but at least he’d headed off the conversation for now. Membership prices were mentioned in the contracts, so she would have ended up asking him about it anyway.
He guided Sandra toward the entrance to his alcove and inserted his key into a small panel to the left of the door before pushing it open.
As soon as the door opened, soft lighting came on to reveal an overstuffed sectional, a comfortable bondage bed, and a few chairs, all strategically placed to give a good view of the happenings down on Basement 2 below.
Sandra sucked in a soft breath before she took several quick steps forward so she stood close enough to the curved floor-to-ceiling window to press her palms flat against it. “Wow. This is amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it.” And he was. He knew it had been ten years since he’d seen her and worshipped her from afar, but pleasing her was important to him, and he enjoyed the sensation.
He pulled the door shut and then moved deeper into the room to stand close behind her. He looked out at the view over her shoulder as the heat from her body tempted him to pull her back against his hard cock.
Instead, he took a deep breath and returned his attention to the happenings on the floor below them. Even though she stood a foot in front of him, the soft scent of honeysuckle and her arousal filled his senses and made him ache to touch her.
“I more than like it. I could’ve never imagined this back in New York. Don’t tell Master Mason, but his dungeon and yours are on two totally different levels.”
Pleasure hummed inside his veins. He leaned forward. “I won’t say a word,” he murmured almost against her hair, nearly giving in to the temptation to thread his hand into the silky mass, bend her head back, and take what was his. But he forced himself to take one firm step back and look out over her shoulder to see what she was seeing.
From where he stood he could see the full view of Basement 2 and all the play areas inside it. He knew if he were standing right next to the glass where Sandra was that there were some areas on the far side of the floor that weren’t visible, as well as the ones directly below them, but most of the floor was in easy view. That was the reason for the circular setup.
“You can see so much from up here. This is great,” she said, mirroring the direction of his thoughts. She glanced back over her shoulder at him, her face animated.
“I have another private alcove, one I do rent or loan out on occasion—usually to Dex, Cameron, or one of the other main Doms. It’s on the other side of the floor.”
“Sort of like a time-share?” She laughed softly.
He smiled, her laugh making him feel light inside. “Something like that, but so far we’ve avoided any scheduling issues,” he answered in the same light tone she’d used.
“I’m surprised you don’t have the Doms fighting for reservations.” She braced her palms more comfortably against the glass.
“They keep themselves pretty busy, and there are lots of places within Club Desire to play.”
He clenched his fingers against showing her the scene forming inside his mind. He would have her widen her stance, then rip off her skirt and begin teaching her what pleasure she could experience at his hands.
He clenched his jaw. He knew he should continue to fight his overwhelming attraction to her. Even though there were no guidelines against him interacting with any member who agreed, Sandra hadn’t yet laid out her soft or hard limits, or even given her permission. He was a stickler with everyone else about having both of those in place before anyone played together, so he needed to try to discipline himself, at least until those were set.
Added to that, she was still recovering from a traumatic D/s relationship, and without knowing more, he could unwittingly make that worse.
A knock from behind him slammed his common sense back into place, at least for the moment.
Brent opened the door and gestured the server inside.
The man set the large tray filled with food and drinks on the end table next to the sectional, as was Brent’s usual preference. Then at Brent’s nod, the man left, quietly pulling the door closed behind him.
At the sound of Sandra’s stomach rumbling, Brent turned to find her looking at him.
He bit back the question that formed on his tongue—which hunger would she like fulfilled first? He was having enough trouble avoiding temptation without inviting it directly.