The Club Sin Series 4-Book Bundle (6 page)

A slender strawberry-blond woman knelt on the floor, nude. Her legs, wrapped in crimson-colored rope, were bound to steel rings on the floor. Her arms were stretched wide, as the leather cuffs on her wrists were attached to chains on the wall behind her.

Master Kyler stood in front of her, his dark jeans down at his ankles while he held on to her head with both hands and thrust his large erection into her mouth. His movements weren't careful and kind; they were rough and harsh.

Tearing herself away, Presley turned to Master Dmitri mainly to stop looking at
that
, and the side of his mouth curved. “I see how that upsets you, but let me explain. Kenzie's a very difficult sub who likes to poke at her Dom, so he punishes her. She gets off on public displays of sex and also being manhandled.”

Presley examined Kenzie again, instantly cringing. While she didn't mind the thought of providing oral sex, the humiliating manner it was being done didn't interest her. “That's
not
for me.”

“Yes, I agree,” Master Dmitri said in his tender voice, drawing her attention to him. “Which means humiliation is a hard limit for you.”

She had the urge to wipe her forehead and exhale a big
phew
but refrained to save herself the embarrassment. One thing was true—she saw the importance of outlining her limits, and it put Master Dmitri in a good light that he gave her the time to realize this. The solid edge to him, where he showed that her well-being mattered to him, was something she could easily trust.

Master Kyler settled in beside Master Dmitri. “Your sub is ready for you.” He zipped up his pants and winked at Presley. “She's got quite the mouth on her, even when my cock's shoved down her throat.”

Presley's mouth nearly dropped open again, but she clamped her lips shut, forcing herself to look brave. Talking so openly about sex acts, cocks, and the rest of it would take some time to get used to, considering she couldn't even say
sex
without blushing.

Master Sawyer finished off his energy drink as he stood, then he threw the can in the recycling bin beside the couch. “That sub is going to be the death of me, but—” His gaze darkened. “I'll be damned sure she has a red ass before I'm buried.”

Master Dmitri chuckled, his body rumbling against Presley, and she looked up at him as he nodded. The amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes made her realize how happy he was in the dungeon. In his office, he seemed serious, but in this space, he seemed playful and content.

A sudden loud
slap
broke her train of thought, and a scream followed, echoing off the walls in the dungeon. What worried Presley more than that piercing sound was how it made her body come alive and warm in all the perfect places. The scream wasn't drenched in horror or fright but layered with thick and greedy arousal. And that rich desire slid through her veins, making her crave something equally intoxicating.

With heat pooling low in her belly, she realized that in Dmitri's arms, her sense of fear had left her. While the sound would've frightened her before, now it didn't. The worry that something horrible would happen to her had vanished. The feeling that she didn't belong had evaporated.

“Right,” Dmitri murmured. “I'm glad to see you're more comfortable now than when I found you at Cora's scene and looking for the exit.” He turned all of his focus on her, and the intensity in him did all sorts of hot things to Presley, including making her belly drop to her knees.

The weight of this man's good looks was due to his eyes. The controlled power that lay present in their depths was heady. Presley experienced the magnitude of his appeal over her. Heat raced between her thighs, making her clit throb and forcing her to squeeze her thighs together to ease the ache.

One sleek eyebrow arched. “You're more than ready to play, aren't you?”

Why deny it? “It appears so, sir.”

His mouth twitched. “I'd like you to meet the other members. Introduce yourself, ask questions, watch, and discover what wicked things you'd enjoy. If you feel nervous or scared again, stay put and don't move. I won't be far away from you tonight and will come to you.” Spinning her around, he swatted her on the bottom, causing her to lurch forward on a squeak. “Presley,” he called after her. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught his devilish grin. “Be honest with yourself about what you like and don't like. A hard limit is something that would destroy you to do. If you have a moment of ‘not right now but maybe in the future,' that is a soft limit. If you have a thought of ‘I like that, but I'm nervous about it,' that is not a limit.” His eyes darkened with that slight curve to his mouth that was entirely kissable. “Be warned, if you lie to me, I'll know.”

Sweet Jesus!

In Dmitri's office atop the casino, he sat in his leather chair at the desk and stared out the full wall of windows behind him to the Las Vegas Strip. Traffic rushed by in a blur, and people littered the sidewalks. Not as if it really mattered what time of day it was; the city never slept. He loved that about Sin City. It made for great business. However, what he loved more were the sinful parts.

He'd been born and raised in Vegas, and the lively city had always suited him. After he received his MBA from Stanford, he considered a move. But fate stepped in and brought him home to Vegas with an offer of employment under the casino's vice president.

Now Dmitri groaned. Instead of enjoying the fine day, he was stuck in his office. On a weekend, he typically worked from home if anything came up, but yesterday's situation that had kept him late hadn't been finalized.

His Saturday had been long already, with nonstop telephone meetings and e-mails, and it was only two in the afternoon. Add in the fact that Presley had stayed on his mind, all her innocence trapping him in erotic thoughts, and his mood was tense. Those pretty eyes showing her surprise, the lovely flush of her cheeks, and her body enticingly receptive to him had haunted him all day.

He ran a hand over his neck and exhaled, then turned away from the windows to his large mahogany desk. He grabbed the mouse and hit send on the e-mail, in agreement with the VP's choice for the new fall/winter shows at the casino; he was especially pleased with the new burlesque show.

“Sir, I'm leaving now.”

He looked up from his computer. The term usually meant something far different. His secretary stood in the doorway, dressed in a horribly ugly, brown pencil skirt, way too proper top, and glasses over her brown eyes. Part of the reason he'd hired her. He didn't need the distraction of a beautiful woman while he worked. He had enough of that at the dungeon. The other reason was that she was a seriously smart kid right out of college and a damn hard worker.

“You were supposed to leave an hour ago,” he told her. “It's Saturday, Suzanne. Go home. You shouldn't even be here.”

She pushed her glasses up on her nose. “I had paperwork to finish.”

The woman had no personal life at all, and for that, he felt for her. Before he'd entered the lifestyle, that would have gotten right under his skin, since he'd shift the obvious truth into a
desire to make things better for her. “I do believe I told you that could have waited until Monday.”

“Well, it's all finished.” She heaved a shoulder. “So, there's no point talking about it.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. At one time in his life, such a refusal to listen to his orders would have ruined his day. He would've lashed out at her with his horrible mood and frustration that she hadn't listened to him, considering it was in her best interests. He also would've spent the rest of the day pissed off because he saw the exhaustion—and loneliness—in her eyes.

The dungeon had settled that desire for him. He didn't have to take care of Suzanne, nor did she have to listen to him, because he was not her Dom. Such a simple thought process, even if it took Dmitri a long time to realize why he needed the lifestyle, but that structure and sense of order gave stability to his life. Rules, he needed them, liked them, and strictly lived by them.

“Now, you will go home?” he asked.

“You as well, Mr. Pratt.” She dropped her arms, grinned with sass at him, and left his office.

He smiled after her, respecting Suzanne's work ethic and amused by her sassy attitude. If Suzanne were to live the lifestyle, she'd without a doubt be a Dominatrix, since she'd verbally put him in his place often, which was the other reason he'd hired her. A submissive at his work spelled trouble. His sexual preferences and his public life were kept separate for one very good reason: to keep his lifestyle secret. The last thing he needed was a scandal exposing the dungeon and interfering with his job at the casino.

His cell phone ringing dragged him from his thoughts, and he reached for it on his desk. He looked at the screen and smiled, instant pleasure washing through him. He clicked the answer button and raised the phone to his ear. “Hello, Mary. How are you?”

“I see what all the fuss is about,” Mary said, sounding amused. “She's lovely.”

Mary's kind voice made him reminiscent about old times—she was the first submissive he'd ever met, and it always warmed him when she called. Now realizing her intent, he chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “What can I do for you, Mary?”

“I would've called sooner, but I was at a conference and only returned home yesterday.” The sound of a boat horn indicated that she was out on the water at Lake Las Vegas. “I wanted you to know she's very sweet.”

“I'm training Presley and nothing more.” Memories of his visits to the artificial lake twenty-five minutes from Vegas filled his mind. He'd spent many hours with Mary and her family on the boat. “Why are you suddenly taking an interest in my love life?”

“I take an interest when you send me a little sweetheart during my lunch hour, on short notice, and ask for a rush on the results.”

He chuckled again. Clearly, Mary hadn't changed in her pushy matchmaking ways. Dmitri had known that sending Presley to her would stir up a few questions. “I'm sure you have a point to make. Get to it.”

“No point,” she retorted. “Only saying I like her for you.”

“I'm glad you approve,” he muttered, then he turned in his seat to stare out the window behind him. The sun beamed off another casino—his biggest competitor—across the street. “Done?”

Her pause lasted far too long before she asked, “You will give this one a chance?”

“Mary,” he warned.

While he enjoyed his talks with Mary, his love life wasn't a topic he wanted to share. Nor did he think it appropriate to talk about his agreement with Presley more than he already had.

“All right, I'm done.” She laughed softly. “But the other reason I called, I thought maybe we could get together for dinner.”

“Of course,” he replied, pleased that she wanted to see him. “When are you free?”

“Not tomorrow—I've got one of the kids' Broadway shows to attend—but how about the Sunday after, would that work for you?”

It didn't matter if he had plans; he'd make time for her. It had been almost a year since he'd last seen Mary face-to-face, and while he always talked to her monthly, nothing replaced being in her presence. “Dinner, my place, six o'clock—sound good?”

“Yes, that'll do.” She hesitated again, and when she spoke next, her voice sounded rich with mirth. “Will your submissive join us?”

“Mary,” he warned again.

“Goodbye, Dmitri.”

On her knees, he owned her, his punishing thrusts slamming against her backside. His firm grip on her hips seared into her core, and she coursed higher and higher in the peak of ecstasy. His brutal slap on her bottom tore a scream from her throat, and the sheer force of her orgasm made her vision blurry as the warm, wet evidence of her climax slid down her thighs.

“What are you doing?”

Presley shot straight up on the couch and grasped her chest, her heart thudding. “Oh my God,” she snapped, spotting Cora standing near the hallway of their living room. “Make some noise, will you?”

Laughing, Cora dropped down on the cushion next to Presley. “Whatcha reading?” She
snatched the e-reader out of Presley's hands, examined the screen, and frowned. “You're living the lifestyle now. You don't need to read about it anymore.”

Presley squirmed against the couch cushion to sit cross-legged and glanced across the sunny living room to the wide-screen television against the far wall. Perhaps she'd taken the first steps toward the BDSM lifestyle, but she really hadn't lived it yet, not until Dmitri took her into her first scene tonight. She still had no idea what it all meant for her, and she wanted to be prepared.

Cora still hadn't moved and was obviously demanding an answer. Presley gave up on looking for an exit. “I'm researching.”

Cora's nose scrunched. “Researching what?”

Presley did not want to admit it, yet Cora had been nothing but honest with her. Besides, from what Presley had witnessed last night in the dungeon, thoughts of her night ahead remained heavy on her mind. Hell, she'd masturbated once before bed, and those dark delicious sex acts she'd seen even consumed her dreams, which had led to her masturbating this morning, too. She was officially a mess and needed to find a solid place to land. “Um…what will happen to me tonight.”

Cora giggled. “Is that why you've been reading all day?”

At Presley's nod and obvious wince, Cora placed the e-reader on the glass coffee table in front of the couch. “I thought you were doing it for fun. I didn't realize you were
researching
. Honestly, girl, you can just ask me.” She patted Presley's leg with a gentle smile. “What do you want to know?”

Presley sighed, not wanting to have this conversation but knowing she had no other choice. Her damn books weren't giving her the answers she needed. “What will Dmitri do to me?”

Cora hesitated. “To be honest, I don't know. He'll decide the scene for you, but once you set your limits, he won't exceed them. He might use a flogger, maybe bondage or a spank or two.” She shrugged, as if discussing toppings on a pizza. “The options are endless.”

Presley noticed the heaviness pooling low in her belly at those choices, though it was hard to imagine actually doing a scene. As much as she tried to place herself in the situations that she discovered in her books, she couldn't. More so, she couldn't imagine acting out those fantasies; her confidence had been wavering all day. “What if I screw up and do something wrong?”

“He'll punish you,” Cora replied flatly.

Presley's blood became ice-cold. Even in her books, punishment never looked enjoyable. While Dmitri had disciplined her, she doubted his punishments would be to send her to her knees. Some of the punishments in her books were brutal. “What will his punishment look like?”

“No clue.” Cora smiled, her eyes glinting. “Doms are creative buggers, so it'll be something sucky. But you're new to the lifestyle, and Dmitri will be softer on you than he would be on me.”

Didn't that bring up an interesting thought? Part of Presley didn't want to ask her next question because it seemed icky, but the other part of her—the curious part—couldn't hold back. “Have you played with Dmitri before?”

“Never.”

Presley considered, trying to think up a good reason for that—even if it pleased her to no end that her friend hadn't slept with Dmitri—but she came up short. “You've played with Aidan, Kyler, and some of the others, so why not him?”

“Not sure why.” Cora tucked her legs underneath her. “I did offer myself to him a couple of years ago, and he was sweet about it when he refused me.”

That didn't surprise her. Dmitri seemed to have a sweetness under all his dominant touches and commanding voice. Heck, even Mary appeared indebted to him, and only someone of high quality could have that effect on others. “What did he do?”

Cora grinned, her eyes glossing over in a memory. “He spent a few minutes giving me some of the best compliments I've ever heard in my life. But he also said that because of external reasons, it wasn't right for him to take me into a scene.”

“What external reasons?”

Cora blinked to awareness. “I have no idea, and he never went into more detail, but it didn't matter. He was sweet enough, that's all I focused on.”

Presley chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I would, too.” Nibbling her lip, she glanced down to her hands, which she was twining in her lap. “It's hard to imagine anyone giving nice compliments over a
few
minutes.”

“That's because you were with an asshole.” She snorted softly, dragging Presley's attention to her. Cora's eyes blazed. “You haven't been treated right, is all, but don't let Steven leave that impression on you. You're amazing and sweet, such a good friend, and Dmitri will see those qualities in you.” She grinned. “And reward you for it.”

Presley laughed, though tension filled her chest. Cora might see those things, but the truth was, maybe she saw stuff others didn't. If she'd been all those things, Steven wouldn't have strayed, right?

At the same time, she realized that the agreement with Dmitri came as a blessing. The rules were clear, his role even more obvious, and there was freedom in that. The perfect recipe for her new life: no messy emotions and all kinky sex.

Cora turned on the couch, pressed her back against the armrest and pulling her legs up underneath her. “So, what else is worrying you?”

A thousand things
. Presley figured it best to oust them rather than fret. She needed to be prepared, even if she doubted she'd ever be
prepared
for what awaited her tonight in the dungeon. “What if I don't like what he's doing?”

Cora gathered her hair over one shoulder and twirled a strand on her finger. “Use your safe word, and he'll stop. He might talk to you about it in the scene if he thinks he can push you past your worry, or he'll go on to something else and maybe have you add it to your hard limits.”

Easy enough, but…“Will it make him angry if I use the safe word?”

Cora shook her head, dropping the hair from her finger. “That's why the safe word exists. To keep you safe. Club Sin is big on having a safe word, and if a Dom ignored it, he'd get the boot, no questions asked. But Dmitri will read your clues, and I doubt you'll even think of pulling a safe word. He'll be careful and won't take you so far that you'd even consider it.”

While that relieved Presley—it meant she wouldn't get in over her head—she wasn't settled. Giving up complete control to someone else was scary, no two ways about it, and once she filled out the limits section of her agreement tonight, she'd have no say in what he did to her. “What if I want him to do more of something? Can I just tell him?”