“Would you prefer to see the theme rooms first? Or the dungeon?”
Was he still trying to intimidate me? It felt as though he was, so I figured I could give him a taste of his own medicine.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to get a little taste of everything,” I said, peering up into those cool blue eyes.
God, he had pretty eyes. They were a stark contrast to his tan face, brightened all the more because of his jet-black hair and the dark slashes of his eyebrows. Although his nose was a little narrow and long, it didn’t detract from his attractiveness in the least.
“Is that right?”
His smile was both sexy and mischievous and that tingling in my belly intensified.
He didn’t wait for me to answer before he added, “Then let’s begin, shall we?”
Master Edge’s hand moved to the small of my back as I continued to walk. I inhaled deeply, shocked by the sensation. Similar to his inquisitive gaze, his touch stirred things inside me. I did my best not to focus on how his fingers grazed the thin sliver of bare skin between the corset and my boy shorts.
“We’ll take the stairs down.”
I nodded, then headed in the direction he gently nudged me. As we descended, the music changed. While upstairs had a club feel with techno music, this was more industrial. Darker, sexier.
I tried not to act completely surprised to see so many people in various states of undress. After all, I had read plenty of erotic romance novels that had depicted a dozen or two different clubs. While the descriptions varied in many ways, there was always one common theme: someone was undoubtedly naked.
More than one as was the case here.
“Worried you might end up naked?” he goaded, the words spoken low in my ear.
“No, actually.” Yeah, that wasn’t exactly the truth although the thought didn’t freak me out the way I expected. Of course, it was something I’d considered for some time. After debating as to whether or not I could go through with it should the opportunity present itself, I’d finally come to a firm decision. Yes, I could. After all, from a clinical perspective, it would be good research.
There were only a couple of people who were playing, one woman strapped to a spanking bench, another to a St. Andrew’s cross. I only knew what those were because I read so much—blogs, research papers, magazines, and yes, erotic fiction—and anytime I came across a new kink toy, I Googled it, curious as to what it looked like. Fair warning to those who hadn’t yet used their good friend Google to look up kink club apparatus: some of them weren’t for the faint of heart.
With strong fingers curling over my shoulders, Edge stepped up behind me. The position felt distinctly possessive and ridiculously sexy, but again, I knew it was another attempt to intimidate.
His voice, dark and seductively rough, rasped against my senses. “She’s completely at his mercy. Bound, gagged.” He inhaled, exhaled. “Naked and vulnerable.”
Yep. She was.
“She belongs to him tonight. Only him,” he whispered.
I found it hard to pay attention when he was so close. His hands were warm on my skin, his body solid at my back, and he smelled so freaking good.
I hadn’t expected it, to be honest. I had expected Edge to do his due diligence, to steer me through the club, point out what was what, and then take me back upstairs and leave me to my own devices.
I hadn’t considered I’d become the game.
Strangely enough, I liked the idea.
More than I would ever admit to my brother.
CAV
“MASTER CAV, IT’S AN HONOR TO HAVE you here.”
As I entered the dimly lit club, I slowly lifted my gaze, meeting the eager eyes of a petite blonde I’d had the pleasure of spending time with during previous visits.
“An honor?” I didn’t bother to hide my disappointment at the blatant disregard for club protocol. And thirty seconds in, to boot. Perhaps a new record.
“Yes, Sir,” she said sweetly, her fake lashes fluttering. “I’ve been hoping you’d arrive.”
I’d heard that line before. A few dozen times, in fact.
Kink clubs—hardcore, bondage, fetish, didn’t really matter—each had its own distinct ambience, a certain aura, if you would. It consumed you from the moment you stepped inside, got into your blood, thrummed in your veins, hardened your muscles, heightened your senses. Perhaps the easiest way to describe it was anticipation fueled by adrenaline and lust. A heady concoction, one that tripled when I walked into this particular kink club.
Dichotomy was probably my favorite of all the joints I’d visited over the years. Roughly a decade ago—twenty-five and full of myself—I’d stumbled onto the BDSM scene. A few short hours after learning what it was, I sauntered into a club thinking I was hot shit, acting as though I knew what the hell I was doing. For the record, I didn’t. Not by a long shot.
