Merediths Awakening (18 page)

* * * *

Meredith went very still when Tony pulled his big truck up to the valet service at Velvet Ice. Her pulse pounded against the skin of her throat, and he could almost see the memories wash over her face. Her first experience with Tony, Marcus dragging her out of the club, her father’s brutalization and death.

It was time for some more truth between them, and he turned to face her, crowding her against the passenger door and demanding her attention return to him, to the here and now.

“I tried to follow you out that night,” he told her. “The owner, that big tattooed bastard, stopped me.” He shook his head at the shock in her eyes. “He told me who you were, who it was removing you from the premises.” He looked off into space for a moment, seeing the past. “I had nothing to offer you, and he was your brother, for fuck’s sake, so I let you go.” He ignored her half-voiced protest. “When I saw you in the paper, all pale and bruised, I came closer to murder than a man should ever be.” He could see the questions in her eyes, but they were for later. Now his woman had another lesson coming. One in obedience. One in trust. Tony wondered with an almost physical pain if she would ever allow herself to fully trust him.

When they’d pulled up in front of Velvet Ice, Meredith’s first instinct had been to ask Tony to take her somewhere else, anywhere else. Just the sight of the purple neon sign was enough to send her back in time and stir up memories best left alone. But then he began to speak, and his words soothed hurts she hadn’t even known she had.

Somehow, even five years too late, knowing he’d tried to follow her mattered.

She understood why he was telling her this now. Once again it came down to trust.

Hers and his. They still had a long way to go in that department. Maybe too far. But for the moment, his brown eyes simmered with barely controlled hunger, and she wanted to feel him wrapped around her on the dance floor like he had done all those years ago on that ill-fated night when she had dared to test the waters.

* * * *

The club wasn’t overly crowded since it was a weeknight, but there were still plenty of people. Tony’s hand was hot against her lower back as he escorted her past the bouncer at the entrance. He flashed a coin of some kind and the man opened the ropes with a smile and a nod.

They bypassed the regular dance floor. Blaring techno music surrounded them at a bruising volume, and bodies writhed and swayed against each other under the mirrored lights.

Tony led her to the side of the dance floor where they climbed a spiral staircase. A giant bald guy covered with tattoos and bad attitude blocked the head of the stairs.

Looking from Meredith to Tony, he quirked an eyebrow and murmured, “It’s deja vu all over again.” Tony gave him a bland look and produced the coin again. Big, Bad and Bald nodded and bared his teeth in what might have been meant to be a smile, and moved aside to let them through.

Could the night get any more surreal?

Tony led Meredith to a small table near the second-level dance floor and seated her.

“I’ll get us a drink,” he clipped out, and walked away without bothering to ask her preference. Torn between amusement and irritation, she wondered if she should expect a Cosmopolitan or a Lemon Drop Martini. The way the night was going, a straight shot of whiskey, make that a double, was sounding more appropriate.

She scanned the crowd on the dance floor, being very careful not to look too deeply into shadowed corners, before looking back at the bar. Tony had braced his elbows on the bar and propped one boot against the foot rail. The view was tantalizing, the tail of his shirt just high enough that his hard, leather-encased ass was on perfect display. And, Meredith noted, she wasn’t the only woman looking.

It took her a minute to get far enough beyond her jealousy, and then her irritation at being jealous in the first place, to notice he was in deep conversation with another man. It took a minute more for her to recognize the man, who leaned back against the bar on braced elbows, as Dorian Jones, Tony’s new interior guy.

They looked serious. Jones shook his head, and Tony dragged a hand through his hair, looking tired and angry. After a moment, he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes touching briefly on her. Jones’ gaze followed his, and a slow smile spread over the other man’s face. Shaking his head with obvious amusement, he said something to make Tony smile, and then reached into the front pocket of his way-too-tight jeans and produced another of those coins. Clapping Tony on the shoulder, he handed the coin over, shot Meredith a brief salute, and strolled over to talk to Big, Bad and Bald.

Meredith’s stomach began to churn.

This was Marcus’ haunt, and Meredith knew good and well the kind of sex Marcus liked. Images from numerous news stories flashed through her brain. She knew Marcus favored ménage’s, was this that kind of club? She also knew he engaged in bondage and Domination, and there were clubs for that, too. Fear, deep-rooted fear, took hold of Meredith. She had more or less agreed to submit to Tony. She had even reveled in his Domination, his punishment. But she knew she couldn’t bear to be shared. And isn’t that what happened at “those” sorts of clubs?

She didn’t want to believe he would do that to her, not when he’d read her every need so perfectly up until now. But the evidence was damning. He slid the token in his hip pocket, and picked up their drinks from the bartender. Then he strode over to Jones and the bald guy and had a quick, intense conversation involving a lot of head shaking by the bald guy and several meaningful looks back toward her at the table.

Her nerve broke. Once all three men were looking away, Meredith slipped out of her seat and began winding her way through the crowd toward the second exit on the other side of the dance floor. Dodging roaming hands, she didn’t dare take a full breath until she reached the stairs.

Before her foot could reach the first step, strong arms wrapped around her waist, turning and carrying her away from her escape. She kicked back, hearing a deep grunt as her heel made contact. Tony put her down in a dark corner, pinning her to the wall.

“You’re making a habit of sneaking out on me, Princess.” Was it hurt she saw flicking through his brown eyes? Good, she thought. She shouldn’t be the only one.

“You know, maybe five years ago I was naïve enough not to know what sort of place this is,” she hissed out, “but I do now.” She sent a venomous look toward the two men watching them interestedly from across the room. “Contrary to what my brother thinks,” she gritted out, “or what you think, I am not a whore,” she was mortified when her voice broke, “and I won’t let you treat me like one.”

“Dammit, I have never treated you like a whore,” the momentary hurt had been replaced by rage. “And damn you for even suggesting it.” He gave her a little shake. “I have only ever treated you like my woman, and to Hell with your brother or anyone else who thinks there’s anything wrong or dirty about what we do.” His eyes, when they met hers, were nearly black with emotion. “Now what the Hell did I do to suggest to you I thought you were anything other than my beautiful, aggravating-as-Hell woman?”

It was hard to meet his eyes, but she forced herself. “What were you and Jones talking about over by the bar?” He frowned at her seeming non-sequiter, and she continued, “What did the two of you need to discuss with Baldy over there?” Comprehension was dawning slowly in his eyes, and it was obvious he didn’t like where she was heading with her questions. “And what do those coins you all keep flashing mean?”

*

Disappointment was too mild a word for what he was feeling. Every time he thought he’d made a step, a chink in her armor, she closed up tighter than ever. He wanted to blame it all on her father and brother, but dammit, didn’t there come a point when she had to judge him on his own actions?

“You belong to
me
,” he growled. “I would never share you.”

“Well, what am I supposed to think?” Her voice was sharp, but there was regret in her eyes. Somehow, it didn’t make him feel any better. “You’re obviously pissed already, you stalk off and have a little conference with Slick and Scary over there, and keep sending significant glances my way.” She shook her head and tried to pull away.

“I’ll tell you what you’re supposed to think,” he raged at her. “You’re supposed to think about how you trust me. How you know I’d never hurt you. You’re supposed to think about how I’m fucking killing myself here trying to erase all the bad memories by making new ones.” Leaning in, he ground his forehead against the wall by her ear. “God, Princess. I don’t know what else to do.” All the anger seemed to rush out of him with his sigh.

Wriggling one hand free, she laid her palm along his jaw, turning his face to hers.

Her eyes were huge and swimming with tears. When she spoke, her voice was so low he could barely hear it above the music.

“I don’t know myself when I’m with you, Tony.” She blinked, and one lone tear slid down her cheek. “Anthony. You terrify me.”

Even though he was afraid to hope, afraid she’d slap him down yet again, he melted under her tears.

“Will you stay here with me tonight? Just us, no one else, no ghosts in the room.

Will you trust me, even if it’s only with your body?” She nodded silently, and he took her hand, leading her to another set of stairs. He flashed the token Jones had handed him, and the burly guy guarding the landing stepped aside.

Meredith didn’t look at the man as they passed; it was all she could do to keep up with Tony’s long strides. He tugged her down a long hallway, passing several blue doors.

He finally stopped in front of one. Taking his token he pushed it against a red light on the door and she heard the lock click open.

*

The room he led her into was small and dimly lit. The walls were painted a deep crimson, with the exception of one wall entirely shrouded with a long black velvet drape.

“Explore,” he encouraged her, motioning her toward a large cabinet dominating the wall across from the curtain. Meredith cautiously ventured closer, catching her breath when he swung open the doors to expose rows of hanging ropes and floggers, trays of sealed dildos and vibrators, drawers filled with neatly stored masks, clamps, gags, and other implements she couldn’t even begin to identify.

“What are you going to do to me?” Could that frightened, tentative voice actually belong to her?

“I will tell you this once, because you’re afraid,” he reached out and ran one finger down her cheek. “But you must learn that you do not question me. Not in here.” Tony moved behind her, wrapping one strong arm around her waist and criss-crossing the other between her breasts, so he could cup her jaw in his hand. Turning her cheek into his chest, he leaned down to murmur in her ear.

“This is Dorian’s room; it’s a very special room because Dorian has very special tastes.” She fought hard not to tense at the mention of the other man. Tony had promised he wouldn’t share her. She had to believe him.

He continued, “Behind the curtain is a two-way mirror. I am going to bind you and place you in front of that mirror. I will cover your face enough that anyone on the other side won’t be able to recognize you, but they will be able to see you.” Meredith thought she might hyperventilate. “I can’t,” she gasped. “Anthony please, don’t make me…”

“But Princess,” he purred in her ear, “how could I deny them the chance to see you, all beautiful and bare? You’ll make them crazy, they’ll go wild needing to fuck you. But they can’t.” He spun her to face him, eyes burning into hers. “You are mine. They can look, but they can never touch what belongs to me.

“Now,” his voice was tender, his grip unbreakable, “we have to prepare you for our audience.”

To her surprise, he didn’t strip her. Instead he bound her hands behind her back at the wrists, then again just above the elbows, so her shoulders pulled back and her breasts jutted against the silver metallic fabric of her dress. It was easy from there for him to pull the low-cut halter down, baring her breasts and framing them with the silver material.

Once he’d arranged her breasts to his satisfaction, he dropped to his knees at her feet.

Meredith had a brief flash of the many times he’d knelt before her like this, and in spite of her apprehension, she felt a flush of moisture wash through her pussy.

His hands weren’t quite steady when he stroked up her thighs, carrying her short skirt along with them. She caught her breath when he laid his cheek against her smooth belly, rubbing back and forth, prickling her skin with newly grown stubble, and soothing with the silken brush of his hair. With a low hum of satisfaction, he buried his nose against the damp lace of her panties, nuzzling the fabric to the side and letting his tongue snake in to glance over her saturated flesh, scooping at the honey he found there.

“You always taste so sweet, Princess,” he muttered against her skin. “Like the sweetest sugar syrup.” He gave a final lick, then drew away. Meredith couldn’t suppress her whimper of disappointment, and he shook his head at her with a naughty smile. Quick as a flash he darted in and nipped sharply at her inner thigh, leaving a deep red mark.

“Huh-uh. No noise, Princess. This is my show.”

Tony reached behind him and retrieved a metal bar, which Meredith recognized from his house. She felt a little tingle shiver through her pussy at the memory of that bar holding her legs open and vulnerable to him.

Instead of fastening the bar between her ankles, Tony wrapped two wide leather straps around her thighs, just above her knees. He took his time fastening the silver buckles, and then sat back to take in the picture she made, silver fabric, white skin and black leather.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he rasped, and when his eyes met hers, she felt beautiful.

Once he’d looked his fill, Tony fastened the silver bar to the straps on her thighs, forcing her legs wide, and tilting her hips forward. Taking a large silver clamp, he lifted her skirt and secured it so it fell down the sides of her legs, but left her pussy bare.

Once he was certain she was steady on her feet, Tony reached into his hip pocket and removed a familiar black bag. Out came the exquisite silver and crystal nipple clamps.

Leaning in he caught first one rigid nipple, and then the other in his mouth, alternating between the two until she was rocking helplessly into his caress. When her moans took on a frantic tone, he lifted his mouth and began to pull lightly at her nipples, preparing them for the pressure of the clamps. When he finally attached them to her aching nipples, Meredith jerked and clenched every muscle in her body to stop from coming then and there.

“Good girl,” he murmured, as if he knew how close to the ragged edge of control she was. Leaning back in, he flicked his tongue around her nipples, rimming the flushed areola until she moaned and then tormenting the sensitive tips. The sensations were unbearable, the pressure building in her chest, lightning shooting from nipples to clit.

He didn’t stop the diabolical licks and nips until her entire body was tense, a graceful bow, jerking lightly in reaction. Seemingly satisfied, Tony turned again and walked to the toy chest against the wall. As she watched apprehensively, he sorted through several drawers before finally settling on a swath of black fabric.

“Just one more thing, and we’ll be ready to begin.” His voice was low and silky, another caress to her senses. And oh bleeding Hell, they hadn’t begun yet?

When he returned to face her, she saw he was holding a black velvet half-hood, traced with lines of silver flared from the eye-holes like fairy wings. He slid the soft material gently over her head, pulling it down until it covered her face to just above her lips. With precise movements he smoothed it over her nose, making sure her airway was free. Once the hood was secure, he spent long moments smoothing his fingers over the black velvet, tracing the silver embroidery and stroking her face through the lush fabric.