Fifteen minutes into her wait, Kathryn was itching to move. She needed some frame of reference to fill out the sheet, and other than spanking and edging, she might as well have been a virgin.
Kathryn continued exploring, meandering down one dark passage after another. At least down this hall there were a few open rooms she could glance into. And for the doors that weren’t open, she had to at least listen. Obviously, behind those doors had to be where the true kink reared its naughty head.
In the first room she paused at, a woman was standing over a man who lay motionless on the floor before her.
Kathryn needed to rein in her nursing instincts. He wasn’t hurt. At least, he wasn’t the sort of hurt that required medical attention. He just lay still on the questionably clean floor wearing a scrap of cloth that made Speedos look like boxers.
The woman, obviously his Dominatrix, placed her stiletto heel gently on his bare chest before digging it in a little and hitting his sternum. “Did I say you could move?” she snapped sharply.
The man let out a guttural, sensual moan. “No, Mistress.”
The scene wasn’t grabbing Kathryn’s attention as much as the man was. Or rather, his neck. He had a collar.
She studied the simple leather strap laden with silver spikes and a small ring at the front. It was easy to imagine a leash tethered to it. As easy as it was to imagine a similar collar snug around her own neck. Was Jake the sort of Dom to use one? A leash?
I’ve been with this man for months. I’ve memorized every scar. Know his tattoos like the back of my hand. How do I not know these things? Like, I don’t know him at all.
The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to know him. All of him. Chisel away the protective layers that held in his molten heat. Discover the real Jake Russo, one kink at a time.
With her hand softly caressing the naked skin on her neck, Kathryn was just now catching on that the door wasn’t open. There was no door. At all. This small room was a stage. And an opportunity she had to explore.
Determined with her preference sheet front and center, she watched with intention, gauging her level of interest by the sensations of her nether regions. Heat equaled interest.
The Dominatrix began by berating every part of him, from his selection of attire to the nearly invisible size of his dick which, even from as far away as Kathryn stood, couldn’t be further from the truth.
Humiliation. Ice cold.
“Stroke yourself,” she said. “That’s it.”
Forced orders. Forced pleasure. Definitely warmer. Check and check.
“Don’t come.” The command was dark and low, dripping with power. Two little words that made a Dom a Dom, and a sub a sub. Two words Kathryn had heard so many times before.
Kathryn’s thighs clenched together. That thought stirred a small fire. When the Dominatrix added, “Not until I tell you to,” in an instant, she was wet. Panting, her nipples peaked hard beneath the tight fabric of her bustier, and all she wanted was Jake.
“On your hands and knees,” the Dominatrix commanded.
This is getting good.
The man snapped into place, practically whimpering as he took his stance on all fours. With her hand on his cheek, she gave him a tender caress and moved toward his ear but didn’t lower her voice.
“Someone is watching you,” she said, her dark eyes on Kathryn, and turned his face so he looked as well.
Mortified but too embarrassed to move away, Kathryn froze, meeting the woman’s gaze.
With a warm smile, she invited Kathryn to the intimacy of their scene. “Come in and watch if you like.”
“No, thank you,” she said, in a meek voice that barely made it past her lips.
The Dominatrix only nodded and smiled, understanding and not imposing at all. Relieved, Kathryn smiled her appreciation as the Dom refocused her attention to her sub.
It was then that Kathryn noticed the wall behind the couple in play. It was hung with an assortment of small and large whips, gags, dildos of an imaginative range of styles and sizes, and as luck would have it, a collar. A rather plain one not nearly half as interesting as the one the man wore, but it would do.
As the Dominatrix circled her prey, Kathryn couldn’t possibly interrupt. She checked her watch.
How long does this last?
“On your back,” the woman said more harshly than before, and Kathryn noticed a small smile forming on the man’s lips.
Attentive to each movement, she watched the scene unfold.
The Dominatrix swung her leg across the man, intentionally but lightly slicing his skin with the sharp edge of her heel. With her feet placed on each side of him, she inched her skirt higher. Lowering herself, she hovered in a squat but refrained from touching him.
Kathryn had wanted research, and this was research. Just two lab rats going at it while she took notes.
“Please, Mistress,” the man said. “Please.”
On cue, the Dominatrix gave her sub exactly what he wanted. And gave it to him about half a second too late before Kathryn could slam her eyes shut. She’d heard of it. The act was referred to as a golden shower and definitely warranted a door, if for no other reason than to provide the random passerby a splatter guard.
Promptly moving on, she pressed the red pen hard to the No column of the preference sheet.
Unless I’m trapped at the bottom of a cavern for three days, urine, for any other reason, is out. Whoever’s doing the cleanup in aisle five should be sainted.
Safe from catching a whiff of ammonia, Kathryn thanked her lucky stars that the next door she encountered was closed. Cautiously, she pressed her ear against it, easily recognizing there were several participants carrying on their own private scene.
Smack. Smack. Groan.
Kathryn’s core throbbed. Julian was right. She shouldn’t be here without Jake.
Reaching for her phone, she sighed, remembering she had no pockets. Her phone was in the car.
Okay, so she had no way to call Julian, though considering he’d left his phone with her car keys in a locker, calling him would do no good. Even if she shouted his name at the top of her lungs, which she was more than half tempted to do, this wasn’t exactly the sort of place where anyone would bat an eye. They’d just assume another sub was taking it good for her Master.
She’d long stopped leering in each passing room, moving swiftly in the hope of finding Julian and heading home. But the place was much bigger than it looked. Her Army training meant she could find her way guided by nothing more than the moon and the stars. But without the sky as a reference, the trail of moans, slaps, and tickles seemed to be getting her nowhere. Fast.
At the end of the next hall, she decided to make a left at the T, turning down a particularly dark passage. With its walls painted black, the ambience here was decidedly more sinister. If there were any more doors down this short hall, she couldn’t see them. Her pulse kicked up a notch.
Having turned another corner, Kathryn was startled to come face-to-face with a masked man. The hall wasn’t exactly narrow, but the hard, chiseled lines of his granite body easily filled the space.
Perhaps he was a Dungeon Master. Warden. First responder. And in his skintight leather outfit and his face covered, he was lust incarnate—the Devil himself if the devil was masked. Asking him for directions out of here would be smart, but the muscular god pinned her with a stare that stole her breath.
Keeping a small distance between them, he said nothing, letting the slow, predatory movements of his body speak volumes in the shadows and darkness. And, damn, if he didn’t have plenty to say. His body was perfect. Kathryn could only stand there, stunned and still.
The leather mask covered only the top half of his face, but it was enough to send shock waves to her core. His full lips simmered just below a smile, and his stare made a lazy path down her body and up again. Like she was utterly naked. Wanting and naked.
Maybe it was the pheromones. This place had to be an atom bomb of hormones.
Should I be taking notes?
Kathryn let her libido indulge itself, shifting her gaze freely past the tight leather vest with nothing underneath to the sensual muscles of his shadowy neck, shoulders, and arms. The man was glorious. He was pure sex and seduction, danger and sin, all wrapped up in a skintight outfit that was designed to emphasize one big thing. His package.
And when I say his package, I mean his cock. The damn thing is huge.
His leather pants were laced at the crotch, a personal Christmas gift she wanted to open. With her teeth. And laced up so thankfully tight, the anaconda wouldn’t be able to penetrate her from the several feet they stood apart. She hoped.
Every inch of him was sexy. He was sexy.
Was this why Jake kept her from these clubs? Her fiancé had made it clear he didn’t like to share. In his infinite wisdom, he knew. Knew that her rational thought would shut down like a freeway at rush hour. Knew that attraction was primal. In a sexually charged situation like this, her cave-girl instincts would naturally kick in, spiking her pulse, tightening her nipples, and filling her core with the pressure of Mount Vesuvius minutes before the eruption.
Gridlocked in a stalemate of awkward, lust-filled silence, Kathryn remained fixed under his gaze. Blinking, breathing, and not doing much else, she made a small gesture to try to snap out of it, managing to nip at her lower lip.
In no uncertain terms, this guy was a living, breathing billboard screaming enter if you dare.
No, no, no, no, nooo. I do not dare.
But from a purely clinical perspective, there was no denying the strange response of her body. The match strike to her core. The bonfire of heat. The way every cell of her body stood at attention, anticipating even the slightest go-signal from her bossy, overcharged lizard brain.
Her reaction was sexual attraction at its most raw, unsophisticated, carnal form. Fascinating in the classroom. Inconvenient at the moment. Its intensity robbed her of even her most basic abilities, like stepping away. And breathing.
What am I, nineteen? Just turn around, put one foot in front of the other, and walk away.
Before she could do exactly that, the Dungeon Master took a bold step closer.
Or . . . I can invest in a chastity belt.
Instead of giving her space or shying away from her curiosity, he seemed to relish it, again moving his own hungry gaze up and down her body in kind. And invitation. Which instantly raised the blush level of her cheeks to red-hot as he took one more step.
Insistent and in an embarrassingly loud voice, she blurted, “I’m not having sex with you!”
Even from beneath his foreboding mask, nothing could hide the amused pop of his brow. Her commanding, heartfelt words did nothing but fall on deaf ears. He closed in, making another dangerous move in her direction.
Lizard brain aside, Kathryn had just enough presence of mind to back away, an evasive tactic that unfortunately managed to pin her against a wall. He propped his hands on the wall on either side of her, caging her in.
“Hey,” she said, breathy in forced protest.
He only grinned.
Stunned at his forwardness, she shifted her weight, readying her knee for a sharp strike. But this close, the strange glow in the darkness gave his features character, just enough to catch all of his brashness. His arrogance. His persistence. A dominance that materialized in faint familiarity and a dirty little half smile.
“Well, hello, Daddy,” Julian said, finally returning from his trek to Antarctica, unbothered that his best friend was two seconds away from a cavity search by this man’s cock.
Instead, her bestie waved the collar he’d gone in search of, and playfully ran his free hand flirtatiously along the man’s arm.
Still holding Kathryn’s gaze, the Dungeon Master simply said, “Hey, Julian.”