Part 1 (2/2)
She stood quickly, dropping and smoothing her skirt into place, not bothering to worry about the crotch of her panties still bunched to one side. She wondered briefly if he could smell her arousal. A quick glance down at the hard outline tenting his dress slacks told her he probably could, or he at least had enjoyed watching her enjoying the show.
Heat flooded her cheeks and she turned her face away to give her blush time to die down.
”Thank you,” she managed as she followed him down the hall to a door she wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't stopped in front of it. He pressed a b.u.t.ton and she realized belatedly that it was an elevator.
Whoever had designed this place had done a wonderful job. Even with the medieval feel of the outside, the inside was both modern and mysterious, which only served to heighten the erotic atmosphere surrounding her.
When they reached their floor, the doors opened directly into a large office. Piercing blue eyes captured hers immediately, locking her in place.
A flash of familiarity hit her before disappearing under the weight of that very intense gaze.
The owner of those eyes, a man with broad shoulders and rugged, almost harsh features, sat behind a huge oak desk. He stood, gesturing her inside before he walked around the desk toward her, in movements so fluid they mesmerized her. She'd never seen anyone move with such grace, and yet such definite authority and presence. His body was tight and toned, and she would bet he had sculpted abs and wonderfully muscled arms and shoulders under that expensive dress s.h.i.+rt.
Before she realized she'd stepped forward, the elevator doors shushed closed behind her and his large hands settled over hers. She tipped her head back to look up into a stunningly handsome face, wondering how she could ever have thought his features were harsh. They were hard and masculine. However, those blue eyes and full lips were both sensual and commanding, and made the entire combination striking.
”Welcome to Club Desire, Ms. Barry.” His voice sent her body into overdrive. It was deep and resonant, and made her p.u.s.s.y clench, begging to be filled like she'd seen down on the dungeon floor. She could imagine hanging from that rope, even as the fibers gently bit into her wrists and across her torso, leaving soft marks she would still see the next day. Even as the man before her pounded his c.o.c.k into her again and again until her o.r.g.a.s.m raged and she let loose her scream.
G.o.d, she was wet. She should be embarra.s.sed, but she was too h.o.r.n.y and keyed up to even care if the whole world knew about it at this point.
He watched her like a predator watches its prey, his gaze intense.
Sandra was surprised to find she wasn't in any way frightened by him, even though he was a million times more imposing than Diego, her last Dom, could ever hope to be. There was something about his gaze that unfurled the last hard knot of unease she'd carried deep inside her gut since she'd boarded the plane for Phoenix three days ago.
The s.e.xy man who had captured her attention walked around her in a slow circle, examining her with dark appreciation in his eyes. He radiated Dom with every breath. It was as if the entire world was his to do with as he wished.
And d.a.m.n if that wasn't s.e.xy as h.e.l.l.
She resisted the urge to rub herself against him like a cat and bask in the very masculine scent that emanated from him. Nothing specific she could name, except virility, s.e.x, and power all rolled into something that filled her senses and made her want to beg-although she wasn't quite sure for what. Maybe the elusive o.r.g.a.s.m her body still screamed for?
Yes, that was worth begging for-especially from this man.
He stopped circling and looked down at her, the edges of his lips curving enough to make her suspect he might know what she'd been thinking.
Her inner submissive raged to life, even though she'd never fully given herself over to anyone.
But she recognized in this man a Dom who could both master her and care for her. Something she had never believed coexisted in one man until now.
She'd come here thinking to indulge her love of watching, her voyeuristic tendencies that had begun to sprout.
When her New York roommate, Darla, had offered to introduce her to some ”friends” so Sandra didn't spend yet another weekend at home alone, Sandra had reluctantly agreed. One night of getting to know a cross section of Doms, subs, switches, and others in the lifestyle had been enough to keep her coming back for the friends.h.i.+ps and the feeling of belonging. But it had taken much longer for her to come out of her sh.e.l.l enough to start to see what she might actually enjoy partic.i.p.ating in.
After fleeing New York and her abusive Dom, Diego, she'd sworn off the D/s relations.h.i.+p thinking it was not for her, though still enjoyed the kink, but not being controlled. Now she wasn't so sure if she was truly done with D/s relations.h.i.+ps. Maybe she'd been too hasty?
Her nipples were hard and sensitive to each movement against her thin bra, the sensations shooting hot spurts of fire throughout her body.
He raised her right hand to his lips and brushed a quick kiss over her fingers-the same fingers that Sandra had just m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.ed with...could he tell?
She watched him carefully for any reaction, but he only smiled down at her, breathing in the scent for a long moment until he slowly lowered her hand, but didn't relinquish it.
It took a moment to realize she was just standing in place, absorbing the new round of sensations and her rampaging thoughts...and still hadn't answered him.
With effort, she cleared her throat to make sure she could speak, searching her brain for what the man in the waiting room had called him, and finally giving up. ”Thank you, Mr....?”
Amus.e.m.e.nt sparked in his eyes, his thumb now softly tracing the backs of her fingers-those fingers.
”Brent. Please call me Master Brent.” A heavy silence fell between them as he watched her as if trying to solve a puzzle. ”Now, what can I do for you...Sandra?” He glanced at her as if waiting for her reaction, and she realized she hadn't corrected him earlier and told him he could call her Sandra rather than Ms. Barry.
She wanted to smack her palm against her forehead for being an idiot, but instead she made herself smile up at him. ”Yes, call me Sandra, please. I was hoping to pet.i.tion for members.h.i.+p. Did you get the envelope from my old Dungeon Master?”
A herd of b.u.t.terflies took flight inside her stomach and she swallowed hard. What if Master Brent turned her away?
She missed this life, or at least some of the kinks she enjoyed, like watching, as well as the friends.h.i.+ps and the sense of belonging. But she hadn't realized how much she wanted members.h.i.+p in Club Desire to be part of her new life.
”Yes. Thank you for coming to us, Sandra.” His deep voice conveyed sincerity, his sensual smile making her feel welcome. ”Why don't you come in and get comfortable so we can talk?”
He gently squeezed her hands and pulled her forward to a large leather love seat off to the side of his desk. The b.u.t.ter-soft leather welcomed her, and she shamelessly ran her hand over the supple material while Master Brent sat in the large chair in front of his desk.
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, and she looked up to find him watching her with definite heat in his eyes.
Or was she imagining it?
”I love the feel of that leather too. I'm very much a texture person, so when I found it in the showroom I had to have it.”
Sandra smiled self-consciously, resisting the urge to tell him she was also a texture person. It felt like too intimate an admission, although she knew there wasn't any logical reason to feel that way. Maybe the combination of this man and the general erotic air of this place were getting to her.
”Sandra, relax.” His tone was calm and sure. ”You have nothing to fear here.”
She jumped as she realized she'd fallen silent again and turned to find him watching her. Another strong flash of familiarity caught her before it vanished.
She dismissed it. If she had ever met this man before, she wouldn't have forgotten him.
”I did receive the envelope from your old dungeon,” he said, pulling her attention back to the topic at hand. ”Master Mason and I have known each other since college. In fact he was the one who invited me to my first munch and showed me my first glimpse into the kink world.”
Sandra had never been fond of the term ”munch,” which just referred to a social gathering of those involved in or interested in the BDSM lifestyle. She had never figured out why someone had settled on that horrible name for it.
Brent's voice held fondness and a soft note even though his presence was total Dom. She could imagine this man holding her in aftercare and soothing her with that same tone in his voice, or maybe even more.
Sandra stiffened at the thought. She needed to be smart about this. She'd just met this man. Choosing a Dom this quickly was part of what had gotten her into trouble last time. She needed to slow down. After all, she wasn't sure he would grant her members.h.i.+p, even with Master Mason's recommendation.
She didn't think she'd spoken to Master Mason more than four or five times in pa.s.sing, the entire time she'd attended her previous dungeon. But within fifteen minutes of entering this one she now had a private audience with the owner? Oh, how times have changed.
She chided herself. The club in New York had been good to her. It wasn't their fault that Diego had turned out the way he had. In fact, once they found out what he was doing to her, they tried to help. One of the other Doms had even driven her downtown to file the restraining order.
”Sandra?” Master Brent's deep voice broke into her thoughts and she snapped her gaze to his.
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