That revelation hit a spot inside me that took me by surprise.
I admired him for a moment, the way he kept his head lowered, hands resting on his thighs. He was wearing shorts and had yet to pull on a shirt, so I had the distinct pleasure of admiring his musculature. He was healthy, probably a runner if I had to guess. His muscles were defined but not bulky, and right now, every rigid line was visible, the tension coursing through him intense.
My gaze snagged on a few scars on his upper arms. They looked like burn marks. Like someone had put a cigarette out on him a time or two. I had to wonder what foster care had been like for him and how he’d ended up there. But that was a subject I would tackle at another time. Right now, I needed to get down to business.
“You don’t have a Master.”
“No, Sir.”
“Have you ever?”
“No, Sir. Not a permanent one.”
“You’re a member of Inferno. For how long?”
“Three years.”
“Is that where you met the man who wants to hurt you? Do not look at me,” I barked when his head began to lift.
“Why do you think I know him?” Dante countered.
“Because you do. He’s not interested in Everly or Heaven, but he’s willing to hurt them in order to keep you in line. How am I doing so far?”
Silence.
“Am I correct, Dante?”
When he spoke, his words reflected a deeply disturbing remorse. “Yes, Sir.”
I sat there for a moment, watching him. He was still as stone, his breaths slightly elevated. He seemed to know how to sit to please a Dominant, the appropriate reactions to show respect. But he was completely closed off. I could practically see the rope he’d lassoed around his emotions, pulling them in tight to himself to ensure no one got close.
“So you know who attacked Everly?”
“I suspect who it is, Sir,” he said softly.
“Who is he to you?”
“No one.”
“Seems kinda harsh to attack an innocent woman for no reason at all. Who is he to you, Dante?”
His muscles tensed but it was almost impossible to notice. Had I not been looking for it, I would’ve missed it.
“He’s a Sadist at Inferno. I’ve refused to play with him, but he doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“Has he cornered you?”
“Yes, Sir,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Forced you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
The anger at his admission surprised me. It made me want to strangle the bastard with my bare hands. That was one thing I didn’t tolerate. Consent was key. It was the only thing that mattered in my world.
“Why do you keep going back?”
“Because … I need it,” he said, his voice full of torment and self-loathing.
Yeah. That was a lie. Or at least not the complete truth. However, I decided to continue down the path he’d taken.
“You need him to force you?”
This time his eyes shot up, met mine. “No, Sir. I need to submit.”
I knew that, but I’d wanted to hear him say it.
“And you understand this should not be forced upon you?” I asked.
“Yes, Sir.” His gaze lowered, he sighed.
“How long has it been?”
“Three months. I haven’t been back to Inferno in three months. Haven’t been to any other clubs.”
“Have you tried to go to Dichotomy?”
“No, Sir.”
“Why not?”
He didn’t answer right away, and when he finally did, it was on a frustrated exhale. “Because I don’t want to go through a training class.”
“Understood.” It was a requirement at Dichotomy that all submissives who were new to the club attend the training class, unless they were accompanied by a Dominant who was already a member. I could see for an experienced submissive that might be off-putting.
Pushing to my feet, I moved to stand behind him, placing my hands on his shoulders, kneading the muscles there. He moaned softly and I could feel the friction beneath the skin. He was on edge.
“Stand up.”
I kept my hands on his shoulders as he stood.
“Face me.”
He slowly turned, his eyes meeting mine.
“I want this man’s name.”
“I need to talk to him first,” he said in a rush.
“No.” It was as simple as that.
His eyes widened, his mouth opening then closing.
I stepped closer, gripped his jaw firmly. “I’ll talk to him. You’ll do what I say. And everyone will be happy.”
Dante’s chest rose and fell, but he didn’t move away from me.
“Give me his name and I’ll look into him,” I told him. “For a couple of days, you’ll stay here, keep the bastard wondering where you disappeared to.”
“It won’t matter,” Dante stated. “He’ll find me. Or them.”
“His name,” I demanded.
“Roger Cherlish.”
I locked the name away in my memory, staring at the sexy man before me. I wasn’t sure what drew me to him, but I wasn’t going to pretend I didn’t have a deep-seated desire to dominate him, to give him what we both needed.
