Chapter Seven

Will recognized what Penelope was doing, but he chose to allow it. This whole conversation had filled him with the unsettled feeling that he was walking along the edge of a cliff, and one wrong step would send him hurtling over. It was far safer to move back to sex, even with the potential loss of control threatening.

“Show me.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“You heard me, pet.”

She looked around, obviously registering that he’d chosen a table a small distance away from the rest, where he could sit with his back to the wall. Which meant no one behind Penelope could see her front. Still, it was a risk and they both knew it. He was testing her, seeing exactly how far her obedience would go. Would she risk getting escorted out of the restaurant because he demanded it of her?

Apparently the answer was yes.

She leaned forward even more, shrugging the strap of her dress off her shoulder and exposing her breast. His gaze dropped to her dark nipple, already puckering as if wanting his mouth there. The force of his desire had him gripping the table to keep from reaching for her. Dinner was supposed to be a slow seduction, one that left Penelope begging for more. Right then, she didn’t look like she was in danger of begging for anything.

No, she was grinning at him as if she knew just how close he was to dragging her to a nearby bathroom and fucking that look right off her face.

She replaced the strap just as the waiter walked up with their food. She was all bright eyes and thanks to the man, but the secret smile on her lips said she knew Will couldn’t take his eyes off her. He’d seen her all but naked, but there was something about that illicit peek that just did things for him. He wanted her, and he wanted her now.

He ate with a single-minded intensity, but his entire focus was on her. She kept running her finger down the dip of her dress, adjusting here and there and giving him glimpse after glimpse of those dark nipples. Christ.

His fork scraped his plate and he looked down to find it empty. He couldn’t even remember what the damn food tasted like. “You have thirty seconds to finish your meal.”

“Are you feeling a bit overheated, Will?”

He met her gaze. “From this moment on, you know the proper way to address me.”

She jerked back, some of her smugness disappearing. “Yes, Sir.” No questioning. No pushing the limits of his patience. He wasn’t fool enough to believe she wouldn’t start digging in her heels as soon as she got her wits about her, but he didn’t plan on giving her the chance. He paid, tipping the man well, pushed to his feet, and held out his hand for her. She barely had time to slip her hand into his before he was towing her behind him, out of the restaurant and onto the street.

Will had every intention of hailing a cab, but he made it all of three steps before he had to give into the desire to touch her. He pulled her into his arms, his attention landing on her lips. He didn’t make a habit of kissing his submissives. It sent the wrong message and complicated something that didn’t need to be complicated.

But he might die if he didn’t taste Penelope right that instant.

So he did. He took her mouth even as he cupped her ass to line her hips up with his, showing her just what he thought of her being a little tease. She went soft in his arms, eagerly opening her mouth to take him, her tongue meeting his halfway.

He took the two steps to bring them flush against the alley wall, grinding against her until she moaned for him. There was nothing he wanted more than to yank up her dress and take her right there against that wall. It wasn’t a punishment, and it wasn’t a reward—it was something he needed more than he needed air to breathe.

A whistle brought him out of his lust haze. He lifted his head and found they’d acquired an audience at some point. Two college-aged kids stood a little way down the block, nudging each other and grinning like they’d just won the lottery. Penelope’s eyes were glazed over and she arched against him in an attempt to take back his mouth. He almost let her. Will didn’t mind an audience, but not like this.

He stepped back and gently guided her to the curb where he hailed a cab. It was on the tip of his tongue to rattle off his home address, but he changed his mind at the last moment and went with Serve. Things were already confused enough without taking her home with him. At the club, they would be able to retain at least the semblance that this was because of the arrangement and not because he wanted her so badly he was tempted to make a move right there in the cab.

He managed to control himself until they reached their destination. He kept a hold of her hand as they made their way to the elevator and up to the second floor. There, he paused, reality intruding.

Public sex wasn’t discouraged by any means, but it wasn’t something he indulged in. Ever. But taking one of the private rooms almost defeated the purpose of coming here in the first place. He was losing control. He hadn’t had it since their food arrived, and the fact he’d almost taken her against a damn wall was clear evidence that he needed to put on the brakes—and quickly.

So he let go of Penelope’s hand and took a step back. “Strip.”

She blinked. “What?” When he waited, she shook her head as if stepping out of a daze. “Ah, right. Yes, Sir.” She put an ironic edge on the last word, as if she knew exactly what he was doing.

It unsettled him, even as he told himself that it was fully within his right to guide things to his satisfaction. He folded his arms over his chest and watched her slip out of her dress. Once again, she wore nothing underneath. If the public nudity bothered her, she gave no sign, and he battled down the strange urge to cover her up. It didn’t make the least bit of sense, especially considering he’d never had a problem with other submissives being stripped in the main play rooms before. “Your collar?”

She pulled it out of her purse, and warmth kindled in his chest at the knowledge that she carried it with her. It was par for the course, but it still pleased a deep, secret part of him. The same part that wanted his marks across her skin and to fuck her until her entire world narrowed to him and only him. Irrational. Insane. Definitely dangerous. But he couldn’t kill those urges any more than he could end this arrangement before the seven days were up.

He stepped around her and buckled the wide collar around her throat, a part of him instantly settling at the sight of it there. This collar marked her as his, at least as far as the patrons of Serve were concerned. No one else would touch her without his permission.

One of the three St. Andrew’s Crosses was empty, and that’s where he led her. “Stay here.” Before she could respond, he turned on his heel and headed for the lockers down the hall. He always kept a bag of toys there, and tonight he was going to need most of them to get himself under control.

He did his best to ignore the small voice whispering that it wouldn’t be enough.

…

Penelope kept her gaze on the floor, half-worried that she’d mistakenly make eye contact with someone and have to find a hole in the ground to crawl into. They wouldn’t approach, though—the collar around her neck assured of that. The fact didn’t help the embarrassment climbing up her chest and neck at being left without a stitch of clothing between her and the rest of the room.

Where was Will? Surely he wouldn’t make her stand here for hours? She’d seen it done before—there were as many different ways to play BDSM power games as there were people to play them.

She was so busy resigning herself to spending most of the night waiting for him that she jumped half out of her skin when he appeared at her shoulder. “God, sugar, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” The hard look on his face nearly sent her to her knees, and she had to fight not trip all over herself to apologize.

“Spread your legs.”

It took her a few seconds to obey, because she was still trying to process the change in him. Dinner may have been a little awkward, but that kiss afterward had set her afire. To go from that back to Ice King was extremely jarring.

A little sliver of betrayal cut through her, but she did her best to banish it. The evening they’d just passed was the exception, not the rule. This was Will, from the hard set of his mouth to the non-expression in his eyes. The man she’d just ate with and enjoyed teasing was the phantom. She simply had to remember that and keep her guard up until their time was done. Really, she should thank him for not lulling her into a false sense of security after dinner.

Easier said than done.

He knelt before her, and her traitorous body perked up in anticipation. She could still feel his tongue between her legs, driving her to orgasm. But apparently that wasn’t on the books tonight.

Penelope stared as he pulled a dildo out of his bag. What in God’s name is he planning? He didn’t look up at her as he smeared a dollop of lube onto it, taking her obedience as a matter of course. She bit her lip, trying to decide if she should protest. “Will?”

He still didn’t look up. “Do you want to use your safe word?”

No, but she’d like a little reassurance. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she closed her eyes. Somewhere in the course of the evening, she’d started expecting him to treat her as if she really mattered to him. Stupid. Whatever little slice of peace they’d carved out earlier, there was a line in the sand that they still stood on opposite sides of. And they always would. She had to remember that, no matter what else she gave him, she couldn’t give him her heart.

He’d crush it without a second thought.

She took a deep breath. “No, Sir.”

“Good.” He slid the dildo into her in one smooth move, filling her nearly as completely as his cock did. She shifted, but went still when he shot her a look. “Hold still.” Next came the straps, sliding up her legs and hooking around her waist, holding it inside her. Ignoring his look, she rolled her hips, trying to get comfortable. That’s when the buzzing started. A vibrator?

Will stood and turned her around to face the St. Andrew’s cross. She hesitated, but then raised her wrists to press against the upper arms. The wood was rough against her bare skin, a direct contrast to the delicious sparks already starting to spread through her body because of the vibrator. That conflicted feeling only got more pronounced as he cuffed her wrists in place and then did the same with her ankles, leaving her splayed for anyone to see.

She rolled her hips again, and she could have sworn she heard Will curse. Maybe he wasn’t as unaffected as he acted? Testing him, she did it again. Oh, yes, he was definitely affected.

He stepped closer, pressing himself against her back much the same way he’d done in her office. “I’m feeling generous, pet. I’m willing to allow you to choose the instrument.”

A little shiver worked its way through her. She hated that shiver. She didn’t want to be so influenced by him when he stood there behind his mask. So she reached for the attitude to give her some necessary distance. “This is what you call generous?”

“The crop, the paddle, or the flogger?”

He gave her nothing. It made her want to curse and holler until he gave some kind of reaction. “Why not all three?” She regretted her words the second they were out of her mouth.

“Very well.”

Oh shit.

He lifted her hair and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, his tongue playing along the sensitive skin until her knees buckled. “Trust me, pet.”

Easier said than done. She’d been around the block enough times to know that it was the Dom’s job to push boundaries, and she’d delighted in doing exactly that with the subs she played with. She didn’t imagine Will was any different. But she wasn’t a true masochist—or as experienced as the subs he seemed to play with regularly. He knew that. Surely he wouldn’t take things too far?

“Breathe, Penelope.”

The shock of hearing her name out of his mouth steadied her a little. She had her safe word, though she’d never heard of a sub using one with him. He asked for her trust and she’d do her best to give it. She let out a shuddering exhale.

“There.” He ran a hand down her spine. “Keep breathing. Tell me your safe word.”

“Dracula.” It was barely more than a whisper, but he heard her.

“Good girl.” He checked her cuffs one last time and stepped back. “We’ll start with the flogger.”