His Forbidden Submissive (9 page)

* * * * *

Brock couldn’t feel anything below his ass.

Careful to keep from waking Viv, he shifted slightly to the right, hoping the subtle change in position might be enough to allow blood to start flowing back into his lower extremities. Outright movement, at the moment, wasn’t an option, not with his sub asleep so peaceful in his arms.

He fingered her hair. She was so beautiful asleep in his arms. Her tiny stature, her delicate skin and features, her short hair. All she needed was points on her ears and she could pass as a fairy.

He traced a fingertip over the curve of her jaw. How anyone could treat this perfect woman like a dishrag to be used and then tossed out was beyond him. His fucking half brother was an idiot to let Viv go.

But Brock wasn’t nearly as stupid. If given the opportunity, he’d never let Viv go. His Viv. His sub. She’d seen him for who he was, and while he knew their relationship was far from being in the clear, she’d taken a huge step forward tonight. She’d let him take her on a quick diversion into Eroticaville.

Stopping himself after giving her only three orgasms hadn’t been easy. He’d wanted to take her into his club, show her everything, especially the upstairs dungeons, but she was still so new, so vulnerable. He had to be careful not to push her too far. If he took too much from her tonight, he might have to pay dearly for it tomorrow.

After a few more minutes, that painful tingling started in his right foot again, and he couldn’t deny his body anymore. He had to move, but this time, the shift roused his sleeping beauty from her slumber.

He immediately froze, but it was too late.

Viv stirred, her forehead bunching up, and she yawned. The action somehow encompassed her entire body. Her legs pressed straight into rigid lines. Her back arched. Her arms pushed up over her head and—

She smacked him square in the nose.

Brock jerked on instinct. “Hmph.” Viv’s hit wasn’t hard but it hit him in just the right place to make his eyes water.

Viv was instantly awake and looking around. When her gaze landed on him, her eyes widened. “Brock?” She sat up, her hands immediately cradling his cheeks. “What happened?”

“You punched me, that’s what happened.” But he was all smiles when he said it.

“I did?” She rested her forehead against his. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” Especially considering the reason she’d been asleep in his arms in the first place.

She pressed a gentle kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry nonetheless.”

He grinned, and for a long moment, they simply smiled at each other. The scene wasn’t uncomfortable, not at all, but it did have a small amount of unease cluttering it up. It was almost as if neither knew quite what to say after all that had happened over the past several days, especially considering what had happened just before her nap.

Viv found the courage to speak first. “I don’t regret what we just did…just so ya know. It wasn’t easy for me, at least in the beginning. I’m not sure how I’ll feel about it in the morning, but I am glad you, ah, shared your lifestyle with me.”

“Me too.”

She sighed, her expression so soft and adorable. “Things are about to get super complicated for me, Brock. I can’t imagine your brother is going to keep the divorce amicable.”

“What’s your point?”

“Just stating the facts.”

“You’re not trying to push
me
away now, are you?”

“Of course not.” She rested her forehead against his. “Just giving you a chance to run if you want.”

“Not a chance.” He pulled her in for a quick lip lock, and when he pulled back, he drew a knuckle along her jaw. “What do you say we head downstairs for a quick bite to eat at Ravenous, and afterward, I’ll give you a tour of my club?”

Her eyebrows knitted closer together. “Your club?”

Oh hell. In all the craziness, he’d forgotten to tell her about the club. “Ravenous is just the public side of my venture, the tip of the whip so to speak. Restrained Fantasies is where the real kink is.”

She snuggled closer. “Restrained Fantasies? After what you just, um, showed me, I like the sound of that.”

He curved his palm around the back of her neck, his lips gracing hers as he spoke. “It’s a great place. Almost anything your kinky heart desires, you can find at Restrained Fantasies. Bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, biting, spanking, pain play…but only if you’re ready to see more. If you’d rather we simply go home after dinner then—”

“No,” she said quickly, determination pulling her shoulders back. “I want to go. Tonight.”

“You sure? I won’t be angry if you’d rather take some more time getting acclimated with the lifestyle first.”

“I’m positive.”

He nodded. He could play devil’s advocate a little longer, but that sexy, determined set of her jaw told him he wouldn’t change her mind. And truth be told, he didn’t want to.

“All right, pet, we’ll go to the club, but first, we’ll need a change of clothes.”

“A change of clothes?”

“Yes.” He kissed the end of her nose. “And I know just what I want you to wear.”

* * * * *

Viv looked herself over in one of the trifold mirrors in the Restrained Fantasies gift shop.

And grimaced.

A blood-red leather bodice squeezed around her torso, lifting and displaying the girls in all their round splendor. A matching miniskirt wrapped her middle, barely covering her ass. Knee-high boots rounded out the outfit.

Wow. Just wow. Did Brock really expect her to wear this in public?

She plopped onto the fitting room bench. God, this was all so unreal. Last week, she’d been putting the finishing plans on her stupid revenge sex plan, and now here she was, sitting in a BDSM sex shop. Amazing how quickly things could spin out of control.

Despite the incredible sex they’d shared in Brock’s office, she was still so shaky on this whole BDSM thing. She just didn’t know how to reconcile the fact that she was stepping into a relationship with a man who practiced a sexual lifestyle she might never be okay with. Letting him bind her hands while he made her come was a far cry from the things he’d mentioned that went on inside Restrained Fantasies.

Pain play? Bondage and discipline? Spanking? Dominance and submission? She didn’t really have a clue what all those things entailed but most of them frightened her. She’d spent most of her adult life trying not to let her husband control her, but now she was willingly walking into a BDSM club with a man who made no qualms about calling himself a Dominant.

What exactly did that say about her state of mind?

A soft knock sounded against the dressing room door. “Viv?” Brock called. “Are you dressed?”

“In theory.” She pushed to her feet, looked her outfit over again, then let him in. “Although I don’t feel dressed.”

Desire darkened his eyes—then
his
appearance arrested her attention. He’d traded in his vanilla outfit too, but unlike her, “dressed” was most definitely overstretching the capacity of the term. Compared to him, she wore a flippin’ muumuu.

Her greedy gaze took in every leathery, dreamy plane of his body. He was rocking a pair of leather pants that totally accentuated his massive package. A studded belt wrapped his trim waist, accentuated by hooks and chains that gave him a not-quite-menacing look. As for a top?

His tats were his top.

“You look incredible.” She pressed her palms eagerly against his naked torso and she had to fight the urge to trace the lines of the tattoo swirling over the right side of his chest and shoulder with her tongue.

“I think that’s my line, pet, because damn…you’re a walking hard-on.” He stepped back then made a twirly motion with his right hand. “Turn so I can see the rest.”

She spun slowly, partly to tease him and partly because her boots were a bitch to move in, but judging by the look of need on his face, the knee-highs were well worth the effort.

“Very,
very
nice.” He pulled her in for a hard, yet brief, kiss. “There won’t be a Dom in there who won’t be angling to get their hands on you.”

A sudden surge of fear dampened her arousal. “You won’t, I mean, um, give me to others to, ya know, use. Will you?”

His lips curled into a smile a parent might give a toddler. “Of course not, pet. You know I don’t share well.”

“Oh thank god.” The words rushed out on a puff of air, doubt rushing in its wake.

What the hell was she doing here?

“Don’t let your doubts get in the way of your desires,” he said as if able to read her mind. “I was nervous when I went into a club for the first time too.”

“You were?”

“Of course.” His expression softened. “But you know what? What I discovered wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d pictured. Nervousness and anxiety are completely normal. If you had no reservations whatsoever about walking into the club, then I’d worry.”

“So a group of Doms aren’t going to, I don’t know, tie me down and gang rape me or something because they see me as some meaningless sub?”

“Not unless you’re into that sort of thing.” He laughed—but almost immediately his face turned hard. “Seriously, Viv, if you’re not comfortable with something, just tell me. Most importantly, trust your body. If something makes you uncomfortable, don’t do it. If it excites you, explore it. It’s as simple as that.”

Well, when he phrased it that way, his world sounded so simple. “But what if—”

“You’re overthinking things, pet. Everything we do here’s consensual. If a sub wants a Dom to cane him or her until they pass out, that’s their deal as long as it’s done smartly, consensually.”

“But
you
won’t hurt me, will you?”

He looked as if she’d punched him in the gut. “After all we’ve been through, do you think I’d really let anyone hurt you, let alone hurt you myself?”

“No,” she admitted. Of that she was certain. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just enjoy yourself.” He kissed her slowly, surely, and when he pulled back, his lips curved into a big smile. “But before we go in, I have a little present for you.”

Curiosity perked her right up. “You do? What?”

“These.” He tugged two leather straps from his back pocket. A quarter-sized loop attached to each band. “Give me your wrists.”

She hesitated only a moment before offering her hands, palms up. “What are those?”

“Cuffs. In case the opportunity to tie you to something presents itself.” A wicked smile curled his lips as he looped the leather around her wrists.

Awareness sizzled her skin. Desire moistened her feminine walls. Brock restraining her again. Where? When? How?

“Oh well.” She swallowed the need clogging her throat. “That does sound, uh, nice. I guess.”

“You bet.”

Despite their naughty intent, the cuffs were pretty cute, almost dainty looking considering their purpose was to subdue.

When he’d finished securing the straps, Brock hooked the loop at her right wrist to one of the chains dangling from his belt then tugged her out the shop door.

And into the unknown.

Chapter Eight

“Oh. My.
God.
”

Viv needed about twenty pairs of eyes to take everything in. And to process it all? Yeah, she’d need way more brain power than she could muster.

Aesthetically, Restrained Fantasies was similar to Ravenous. Same color scheme, hanging platforms with velvety soft tops. Same chandeliers and chains. And like before, the grandeur took her breath away. The biggest difference was the patrons.

And all their exposed skin.

Now she could see why Brock had insisted on a change of clothes. Good god, some of the outfits were, were…okay, she’d admit it. Some were downright hot. But others?

Wow.

If Eugene could see her now. The idea practically made her giddy.

“I’m speechless.” And, strangely, turned-on, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to admit it. “It’s…fascinating.”

“Not quite the word I hoped you’d use, but it’s loads better than repulsive.”

Recalling the word he’d used earlier to describe Ravenous, she fought to keep her lips from curving up. “Or debaucherous?”

He grinned. “I like debaucherous.”

“I hadn’t guessed.”

He draped his arm over her shoulders in a way she could only describe as possessive. “This way, pet.”

“Yes Sir.” Viv held tight to her Dom as she continually scanned the area. They made it about five steps before passing a group of about three or four people standing around a platform—and her jaw dropped.

What the hell? Viv gripped Brock’s arm. And held on.

A naked man lay spread-eagle and bound to the four chains suspending the platform, but unlike downstairs, these platforms were not secured to the floor in any way, something the woman straddling him was taking full advantage of.

She wore a vinyl bustier and thigh-high boots—the matching undergarments must have gotten lost. As she rode her partner, she smacked his chest with something resembling pom-poms, only these were made of leather and looked far more threatening.

Brock didn’t seem the least bit fazed by the erotic act, as he kept them walking past without as much as a glance.

“Wait,” Viv said in a voice just loud enough to be menacing. “I want to…”

Wanted to what?

Watch?

Yes. Shit, she’d been about to ask Brock to stop so she could watch two people having sex in a BDSM club. Holy crap.

Brock turned a concerned expression on her. “Want to what?”

“Never mind.” She stepped close to him again. “Just…never mind.”

But as always, Brock read her like a book.

He positioned her so they could watch the couple together. “They’re performing what’s called a scene,” he whispered so low only she could hear.

“A scene? You make it sound as if they’re doing a play.”

“In many ways, that’s exactly what this is. They’re putting on a show, but it’s completely for them. However, if done publically in the club, others are free to watch and enjoy. But never participate in unless invited. That’s very important, Viv. Never,
ever
interrupt a scene. It has penalties.”

“Penalties?” Sounded menacing.

“We’ll talk more about that later,” he continued. “Tonight, I want you to enjoy yourself. And don’t worry.” He kissed the side of her neck. “I won’t let you get into any trouble.”

Good to know.

“Come on.” Brock tugged her farther into the club, but it wasn’t long before something else caught her attention.

Sitting on another of the club’s platforms, a redheaded woman with a long braided ponytail wore a black corset that didn’t even attempt to cover her petite boobs, much to the pleasure of the two men whose mouths were lavishing them with attention.

Curiosity licked at Viv’s clit and sent her body suddenly and instantly into arousal. And she couldn’t bring herself to look away. She’d never had fantasies of being with more than one man, but judging by the look of ecstasy on the other woman’s face, maybe she should.

Viv turned to Brock. He’d said he didn’t share well, but if she wanted to experience two or more lovers—not that she necessarily did—would Brock allow her the freedom to try it? Or would he try to control every aspect of her life like Eugene had?

Concern dampened arousal. Despite how much she’d enjoyed the scene in Brock’s office, she didn’t want to be subjugated. She knew that with absolute certainty. Eugene had spent practically every minute of their marriage trying to control her, to keep her from being herself. He’d clashed with her on everything, and she’d had to fight tooth and nail for every step she gained.

Her struggle had forced her to become a stronger person, a person who never relinquished control, but the sheer pleasure she’d experienced back in Brock’s office couldn’t be denied. She’d
enjoyed
giving control to him. So exactly where did that leave her? Was it possible her daily struggles had forced her to become someone she really wasn’t?

Whoa. Getting ahead of yourself there, Viv…

Walking through a BDSM club wasn’t the place for self-discovery. Or hell, maybe this was the ideal place. Either way, she pushed the thoughts aside. She had tomorrow to worry about practicalities and introspections.

As they continued exploring, Brock occasionally spoke to the people they passed, asked how they were doing and whatnot. Every question he uttered seemed genuine, not the fake platitudes she’d grown accustomed to. He was completely at home here.

She couldn’t help but smile as she watched him in his world. During her treatments, she’d thought she’d known him more intimately than she’d ever known any man, but damn had she ever been wrong.

What other secrets did he hide?

“You really put your heart and soul into this place,” she said when they moved away from yet another couple. “I can totally see your architectural and design genius in every detail, but I can see
you
in it too.”

He beamed with pride. “I did pour myself into this place. I’m glad you can see that.”

“I can and it makes me wonder why you’re trying to break into something as mundane as designing corporate buildings when you obviously excel at club design.”

“Looking for a change I guess.”

“A change?”

He shrugged. “Did I tell you I’ve been approached to design a club in Germany?”

“No! You have? Give me the details.”

“I haven’t accepted the gig. I still need time to compete for this stupid executive suite contract.”

Stupid contract? Yep, he wasn’t “looking for a change”.

But what
are
you looking for?

“The Germany gig would have been sweet too,” he continued. “They want me to renovate an old castle. An actual fucking castle. It would have been amazing, not to mention an incredible challenge. Going in and restructuring the past to meet the present. Picture this.” His face betrayed how much he wanted the job. “Dungeon scenes played out in actual dungeons. Platforms and cages suspended from gorgeous rock ceilings hundreds of years old. Fuck, it’s arousing just to think about.”

Mmm-hmm. He no more wanted a change of scene than she wanted to go crawling back to Eugene.

She decided to test her theory. “What color scheme were you planning on going with, something similar to Restrained Fantasies?”

“Similar, yes, but different. I was thinking about brightening the reds then adding splashes of deep yellow, bringing the colors of the German flag inside. Oh, I also pictured…”

As he continued chronicling his intricate ideas, she bit her bottom lip to keep from smiling in triumph. Her theory had been spot on. Brock practically had every millimeter of the design already mapped out in his head. So what was keeping him from going after something so amazing in lieu of designing an uptight executive complex?

He was mystery wrapped in enigma. Maybe one day she’d be able to decode him.

He pointed to the back of the club. “Come on. Let’s get a drink.”

She nodded.

When they reached the bar, Brock helped her onto an empty leather barstool. “Hey, Raven,” he called down the bar, “can I get a house draft and a Porch Swing?”

“Sure thing, boss,” a sultry female voice called back.

Viv leaned around Brock to get a look at the woman who went with the voice. Just as she’d suspected, it was the full-figured, raven-haired woman who had delivered Viv’s message to Brock earlier. With her leather corset and holey jeans, the other woman looked as if she could be Brock’s twin sister, dangerous and sexy in her own right.

Viv turned her attention back to her companion. “So what’s a Porch Swing?”

“Vodka, beer and a little sweet and sour mix. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

No doubt she would. He knew her too well.

She fingered the small stud decorating his ear. What would her life have been like if he hadn’t disappeared after her remission party? She’d been ready to leave Eugene then, and if Brock had wanted her, she would have run away with him in half a heartbeat. Or would she have?

Would she have reacted any differently about his lifestyle if he’d have told her back then, before her affection for him had been truly cemented?

He turned to her, caught her intense stare. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

She smiled. “Just thinking about things that might have been.”

“Like?” His eyebrows shot closer together. “Or should I even ask?”

“Nothing bad. Wondering where we would be now if you hadn’t fallen off the face of the earth.”

“Oh.” His gaze slipped to the bar, his jaw worked. Anger? Sadness? Guilt? She couldn’t get a handle on his exact emotion, but he
was
upset. Of that she was certain. But why? Was he guilty for disappearing? Sad they’d missed so much time? Or was he angry? But angry for what?

Hadn’t they gotten everything out in the open already? She wanted to push the subject, but held back. This night was for exploration. It was to help her learn about the lifestyle. Everything else could wait.

Raven set their drinks in front of them. “You know the routine, boss.”

“Sure do.” Brock pulled a black-and-gold card key from his back pocket and handed it to the bartender.

Raven motioned her head toward Viv. “I’m guessing she’s on your tab tonight?”

Brock nodded.

“Got it.” Raven scanned Brock’s card, pressed a couple of buttons on a tan handheld, then gave the card back. “Here ya go. See ya in two hours, boss.”

And with that, the woman left them alone.

“Two hours?” Viv picked up her glass. “You come back to the bar like clockwork or something?”

He laughed. “There’s a drink limit at the club. One drink every two hours. We want patrons relaxed, not sloshed. Safer that way.”

She nodded. “Makes sense.” She took a sip. The sweet and sour mix hit her first, followed by the bitter punch of beer, all coalescing to work her taste buds into a frenzy. “Mmm, nice.”

“Told ya.” He winked as he took a swig of his beer.

“You sure—holy Christ.”

A man about as tall as a mountain—and just as stocky—stepped around the far end of the bar, out of what could have been a back room or second entrance. Black leather pants encased the man’s legs. The only thing he wore up top? A matching leather vest. He wasn’t as strikingly sexy as Brock, but he certainly gave her companion a run for his money.

“Viv?” Concern laced Brock’s voice.

She turned from the imposing man—at least tried to but he was damn hard to look away from. “Who’s that?”

“Who’s who?” Brock turned and looked down the bar. “The tall guy at the end of the bar?”

“Tall? Is that the best adjective you can come up with? The dude looks like he should be competing with Atlas for the honor of holding up the world.”

Brock laughed. “That’s Steel. He used to be a linebacker for the Cowboys but he was injured a few years back and decided it was time to hang up his cleats.”

The giant of a man caught sight of them—or more precisely Brock—and waved.

Brock gestured him over. “Whatever you do,” Brock said quickly to her, keeping his smile glued to his lips as he looked at the other man, “don’t talk to him.”

“Excuse—”

“Don’t argue, Viv. Just keep your mouth shut.”

Vivian stared at Brock, mouth agape. She stiffened her spine. What in the world had that been about? Don’t talk to him? Why the hell not? She didn’t take orders from—

She stopped the thought in its track. Like it or not, she most certainly did take orders from Brock right now. She was in his world tonight, and if she didn’t play by his rules, she hated to think what might happen.

“Brock,” Steel said as he reached them. “How the hell are you, man?”

“Good. Good.” The two exchanged handshakes. “I haven’t seen you or your brother around in a while. Everything going okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Been getting hung up at the office way too fucking much. Evan’s still there, but I had to get out before I killed someone.”