My Wicked Devil (Club Wicked) (16 page)

He laughed, his warmth brushing against her back but not touching her yet. “I must confess. The thought of Jesse spanking you made me want to stab him.”

That made her spin on her heel so she could see his face. “Really?”

“Yes.” He took a deep breath and stared at her for a few moments, then nodded. “Are you sure? You can back out at any time, and I won’t think poorly of you.”

“I’m sure.” She ran her fingers down his cheek, stroking his goatee.

Grasping Kira’s hand in his, Bryan pulled her after him as they left the alcove. Enormous wrought-iron chandeliers dripping with black crystals illuminated the long hallway spilling out into the main dungeon. A stark contrast to the luxurious Turkish harem area they’d left, and adding to the fear now tingling through her bones. He stopped and looked around before hailing a nearby submissive. The curvy Indian woman in a see-through red sari moved quickly and knelt before Bryan.

“How may this one help you, my lord?”

Bryan fairly vibrated with a dizzying mixture of command and power. The submissive at his feet certainly seemed to sense something. Her eyes widened, and her nipples stiffened. Despite Kira’s fear of the pain to come, a dark rhythm began to beat in her own blood. What she was about to do, about to feel, was going to be intense. God, she’d missed this pulse-pounding adrenaline rush, the bitter foil taste of dread and excitement kindling in her blood. Add Bryan’s energy to that, and she found herself near shaking in anticipation.

“Get my single tail from my storage unit. Fetch Master Jesse for me, and inform him I’ll have a seat saved for him. Is the Russian Courtyard room open?”

The submissive stared up at him with wide eyes. “Yes, it is, my lord. May this one please ask if Master intends to do a public whipping?”

Now a larger dose of panic moved through Kira’s body. The way the submissive was looking at her, in a mixture of awe and disbelief, she wondered if she’d bitten off more than she could chew. Nearby, she heard excited whispers spreading from one person to another that Lord Bryan was going to do a scene.

Fuck, she didn’t know if she could handle people watching them.

Bryan nodded and gripped Kira’s hand harder, like he sensed her sudden reluctance. “I am.”

“Very good, my lord.” The girl’s tone fair tingled with eagerness. “May this one please be released to do your bidding?”

The whispers now rose to shouts as word began to spread through the club that Lord Bryan was going to do a single-tail demonstration with his new submissive.

Oh, fuckity fucking fuck
. What had her adrenaline-junkie side gotten her into now?

“Yes, off with you. Oh, and tell Mistress Jennifer she may assign her submissive as a handmaiden if she wishes, and I need to talk to Master Rory about Jessica if she’s available.”

Bryan led her quickly through the halls of Wicked and stopped before a pair of double doors. They were made of heavy wrought iron and had a sense of great age about them. Bryan turned, and the heat in his gaze traveled through her soul and stroked the dark ember of lust back to life.

“Kira, you have your safe word. Do not be afraid to use it. I would never be mad at you for being strong enough to admit something is too much. Am I clear?”

“Yes, my lord.” She swallowed hard and moved a bit closer. “I’m afraid you’ve stolen my courage. I’m finding it hard to open those doors.”

Without preamble, he grabbed her by the back of the neck, hard enough to resemble the feeling of a collar, and pulled her into his kiss. Unlike his grip, the soft passing of his lips over hers was a delicious seduction. Eager for more, she opened her mouth for him and melted at the stroke of his tongue against hers. He took his time, seducing her and stroking her body with his free hand in a way that was both soothing and arousing. Slowly, carefully, he made sure every inch of her mouth had been touched by his tongue. Once she was horny enough to want to mount him right here in the hallway, her body and the public setting be damned, he pulled back and gave her his sinister grin.

“Go through those doors. There will be submissives there to prepare you.”

“Prepare me?”

“You’ll see. Now stop dawdling.”

He gave one breast a slap, and she gasped at the sudden, harsh sting mixing with the lingering effects of his drugging kiss. Despite the pain—or maybe because of it—her nipples hardened into rock-solid points, and moisture slicked her swollen sex. He raised his eyebrows, and she quickly turned, not wanting to anger him and give him an excuse to punish her.

Well, any more than he already did.

Despite their weight, the doors opened easily on perfectly oiled hinges. The moment she stepped into the dim lighting, Bryan closed the doors behind her, locking her in. Startled, she backed up until her bottom pressed against the cool metal. She was in some type of circular stone courtyard, and a bright, full moon shone down from a ceiling far above, bathing the dark room in silver highlights and obsidian shadows. In the center of the courtyard sat a life-size white alabaster statue of a nude woman kneeling with her hands outstretched and her back curved into a graceful arch.

Chapter Nine

Nervous energy flooded Bryan as he paced around the staging room next to the Russian Courtyard. Jesse, the unhelpful bastard, had stopped by to tell Bryan he was playing to a full house. Every seat in the viewing gallery was taken and almost all the standing room. For a second Bryan wondered if the audience was there to see his skills as a Dom or to watch him whip someone again like he had in that fucking video that had ruined his life. One moment of recklessness when he’d let his ex-submissive videotape their encounter, not knowing she’d try to blackmail him with it.

Anger mixed with his nervous energy until he had to pace the room or go insane. Then he stopped himself and tried to consider this situation from an objective viewpoint. If he knew a scene was about to happen that would be a rare first time between a Master and his submissive, there wasn’t a doubt that he’d attend.

His tension gripped his muscles because of the undeniable danger this situation posed to both himself and Kira. She had to trust that he wouldn’t abuse her, and he needed to know that if it got to be too much, she would tell him and safeword out before any permanent damage was done, either emotionally or physically. Only that trust allowed him to do a little bit of edge play with her, where he pushed her farther out of her comfort zone than she’d ever been. Kira loved her adrenaline rushes, and add to that the endorphins he’d get going during her whipping…well, bloody fuck, she was going to fly deep.

He couldn’t wait to give her this gift even as he worried about hurting her.

Mistress Jennifer, tonight clad in an elegant gold-and-black cocktail dress and thigh-high black boots, stepped into his way as he paced, forcing him to stop and look at her.

Arching one perfectly shaped brow, she gave him a wry smile. “You haven’t heard a word we’ve said, have you?”

Across the room, Master Rory snorted. Tonight he wore his usual leather pants and tight black T-shirt. He was sitting on the small couch and sipping a dark lager that he lifted in Bryan’s direction before he spoke. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I really here? I wasn’t sure if this was a dream, because I was talking and no one was responding.”

Closing his eyes, Bryan tried to let go of his irritation. These were his friends, generously loaning him their submissives. He needed to pull his head out of his ass and focus. “I’m sorry. What was it you were asking me?”

Mistress Jennifer gave his shoulder a gentle push. “We said you’re going to have to work on calming your girl down. We’ve already sent Jessica and Shy in with the express purpose of making Kira feel as comfortable and relaxed as possible. Now you need to do the same. Relax and let all that negative energy go.”

With a chuckle, Master Rory leaned forward and set his drink down next to Bryan’s single tail. “I’m sure Jessica will have Kira purring within minutes and more than ready for whatever you want to dish out. Jessica was working the door tonight as part of her service submissive training, and she made a note of who Kira was when she came in, to see if she wanted to play later. She’s exactly Jessica’s type.”

Bryan managed to give the other man a small smile, and a bit of his stress drained away. At the very least he’d be able to give his girl some intense orgasms tonight, so it would be helpful to have the other submissives there just in case Kira went too deep. If that happened, she would take pain greater than anything she’d normally endure because of her mental state.

The soft scent of Mistress Jennifer’s peach-based perfume reached him as she gave him a quick hug. “And you know Shy is an expert at talking dirty. She can make the filthiest suggestions sound like poetry.”

Master Rory held Bryan’s gaze, his expression completely serious. “I’m not worried about your girl. It’s you I’m worried about. I’ve never, ever seen you this stressed-out before a scene. I’ve seen you work a submissive into a frenzy with your whip without breaking a sweat. Now you seem as tense as a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs. I’m just asking you to take a moment to center yourself, for your sake and hers.”

Bryan was tempted to dismiss what the other man said; then he reminded himself that Master Rory was one of the club’s resident experts on helping introverted submissives find the courage to embrace their sexual self and gain self-confidence. The man could read body language like no one Bryan had ever met, and seemed to have an instinctive feel for what a submissive needed. If he was telling Bryan he needed to relax, then Master Rory meant it.

The soft slide of Mistress Jennifer’s hair tickled his cheek as she leaned over and rested her chin on his shoulder. In a very odd way, Jennifer had become almost a bratty older sister to him. She was one of the first Dominants at Wicked to approach him when he’d joined. More importantly she’d never asked about the scandal, something that at the time had been a miracle. He was the BDSM poster boy for a “cautionary tale on blackmail,” and people couldn’t resist asking over and over and over again what had happened. It got to the point where he’d just say
“I’m not discussing that”
and walk away. There was no doubt she knew about it, but she had the class and kindness to not mention it.

She gave him a light hug. “You’ll do great. I have faith in you.”

Rory stood and ambled toward the one-way glass on the door, blocking Bryan’s view of the courtyard. “Your girl should be coming out anytime now. If she wishes to involve Jessica, let my girl know she has my full permission to do as she wishes. This will be the first time Jessica has done anything before an audience, but it is one of her greatest fantasies. If your girl is willing, I’d greatly appreciate it if you let Jessica play with her during the whipping.”

“Of course, and thank you for lending your girl to me.”

Rory smiled at him and winked. “I’m a bit nervous myself. Jessica has chosen to try out her seduction skills on Kira. Jessica has no idea just how appealing she is, and I hope Kira likes her. It would do Jessica a world of good to have that kind of affirmation.”

The thought of the pretty Asian woman who was currently training with Rory flitted through Bryan’s mind, instantly followed by the fantasy of watching her eat the fuck out of Kira’s pussy. Desire roared through his veins, and his cock went from semierect to achingly stiff in the space of three heartbeats. He loved watching women pleasure each other. The idea of kissing Kira with the scent of another woman’s pussy on her lips made him want to growl with lust.

Jennifer left Bryan’s side and strolled over to Rory, working her boots in a way any man would appreciate. “Shy would do better as moral support. You need to put her in a position where she can give Kira something to focus on and can alert you to any problems that you may miss.”

Anger mixed with anxiety made Bryan irritable. Was Jennifer implying that he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing? That he was some novice who didn’t know his own fucking sub’s signals? Kira would safeword out if it got to be too much. He had to believe she would. Still, the implied insult stung and pricked the bubble of his anger.

“Fuck off. I know my girl.”

Both Rory and Jennifer turned, each giving him a look that set his teeth on edge. Jennifer actually looked hurt. Bryan felt like a major asshole. They were just trying to help, and he was lashing out at them because of his own worries. Self-doubt wasn’t something he usually felt, at least not about situations involving BDSM, but right now, he was really wondering if he’d be able to get Kira to go into subspace.

It wasn’t that he doubted his skill. It was that he really, really cared about Kira, and that made this whipping different. This wasn’t a submissive he might casually encounter here and there at Wicked. This was the woman who’d turned his careful world upside down and made him feel madly, dangerously alive. She deserved the absolute best experience, and he was worried that she wouldn’t like it and would leave him. Yeah, lots of women said they wanted edge play, up until the point that the first sting of the whip landed.

He looked at Jennifer and Rory, making sure he met their gazes in turn as he said, “I’m sorry. That was unnecessary. Thank you for your help, and thank you for giving me your support. It means a lot to me.”

Jennifer beamed at him, and his chest lightened. Beneath that icy Mistress persona, she had a very gentle heart and was easily hurt. “It’s okay, sweetie. Love does strange things to us.”

“I’m not in love,” Bryan muttered, and Jennifer hid a giggle behind her hand.

Rory shook his head. “Take a deep breath and let some of that energy out. Trust me. I get this way before meeting with a new submissive for the first time. If your sub detects your volatile emotions, it won’t help reassure her.”

“Can I have a moment alone, please?”

They nodded, and each squeezed one of his shoulders as they passed. When the
click
of the door sounded behind him, Bryan went over to the table and picked up his whip, running his hand over the medallion on the hilt. He’d had his family crest put there in what at first was a sardonic joke over his parents’ terror that their family would be forever associated with BDSM.