My Wicked Valentine (Club Wicked 1) (11 page)

She was glad she didn’t have to face a crowd. Yesterday
she’d been too excited to really think about who she was and who they were.
Stroking her fingers over the mask, she reminded herself that no matter how
rich and famous someone was, she was on the arm of one of the most eligible
bachelors in the world. A man who had promised to make her orgasm with just a
kiss.

The man sitting next to her, making her body buzz with an
erotic charge caused by his look.

The dome light of the car dimmed to a low golden glow, which
seemed bright. Her breath caught in her throat as their gazes met, and she was
captured by him as surely as a snake by its charmer. A faint hint of stubble
darkened his chin, and her fingers itched to touch him, to brush her thumbs
over the harsh angles of his jaw, to press her lips to his, and surrender to
his every demand.

Earlier today when she’d been talking to Laurel about BDSM,
she’d been imagining what Isaac would do to her tonight. It had left her in an
almost constant state of arousal. Now the simmering craving for his touch roared
back to life, blanketing her mind with feelings and chasing away her thoughts.
With one look from him, he’d managed to reduce her to a throbbing puddle of
hormones.

The first brush of his fingertips smoothing the hair away
from her face had her closing her eyes and leaning into his stroke. Her whole
body strained toward him, needing him, wanting to be his. She yearned for the
bond that Laurel had described, the complete trust between a Master and his
submissive. The ability to let go, to fly, and know that he would be there to
catch her. Her mind tried to chide her about being silly and impulsive, but
even her own thoughts had no power over her when she was the focus of Isaac’s
full attention. Her body hummed with the electricity that arched between them.

He cupped her face and smoothed the mask on with his free
hand. Each caress filled her with warmth, joy, and desire. She couldn’t think
of a time when a man had touched her so tenderly yet firmly. With the mask in
place, he pulled back and watched her in the dim light with burning hunger.

“Before we leave this car tonight, I want to get a few
things clear between us, Kitten.”

She nodded and tried to rein in her hormones. Being reduced
to this drooling state around him had become embarrassingly frequent. Her
discussion with Laurel came to mind, and she mentally steadied herself. She
wanted Isaac to know that she’d been paying attention, that she really had been
researching the lifestyle, and not just the sex parts. Looking away helped, so
she stared out the windshield toward the hulking stone mass that was Wicked.
Just the sight of the building helped her focus and regain control because it
represented everything she’d worked so hard for. She glanced back over at Isaac
and took a deep breath.

“Yes, I—uh, that is we need to negotiate first.” His lips
twitched, and she swore he looked amused, but she chose to ignore it. “Okay, my
no-way-in-hell list. No burning, branding, bleeding, cutting, choking, extreme
bondage, extreme shibari, spitting, humiliation, or face slapping. Also no
degradation or calling me names. And no potty stuff. Yuck.”

“Quite a list, but I happen to agree with you on all of
those things. But you said extreme bondage and extreme shibari, correct? Mild
bondage interests you?”

She nodded and swallowed hard at some of the erotic images
that came to mind.

He smiled like a cat that had gotten the canary. “Agreed.”

“And my safe word is penicillin.”

“Penicillin?”

“Yeah, I’m allergic to it, and Laurel said to pick a word we
never would really use in sex play…unless one of us was like a doctor or
something.” She cleared her throat at the erotic mental images that statement
brought and smiled. “And that’s about it, right? I didn’t, like, miss a step or
anything, did I?”

Cripes, she felt like such a goober. She hadn’t been this
awkward around a guy since junior high. To make it worse, she really wanted to
impress him, to come off as sophisticated as he was. Laurel had said that the
initial negotiation was one of the most important parts of BDSM. She’d said that
Lucia needed to be totally honest with Isaac and let him know what she needed
from him. Just because he was a Master didn’t mean he was a mind reader, but
she didn’t really like how vulnerable it made her feel. Then again, if she
didn’t trust him enough to talk to him, she really shouldn’t be doing anything
with him in the first place.

“You did forget to tell me your list of what you liked, but
I’d rather find that out for myself.” He paused and lifted his hand, gently
stroking along the side of her neck with the tip of his finger. “You can trust
me.”

When he said that, she was reminded of all the guys she’d
dated who’d ever said those words. Usually anytime a man said that, it was
because he was about to screw her, and not in a good way. She looked into his
eyes, straining to judge his sincerity in the dim light. He seemed like he
meant it, but she didn’t know if that was because he was speaking the truth or
her heart was once again seeing things that weren’t there.

Trying to play off how much he affected her, she snorted and
leaned back. “I’ve heard that one before.”

“I don’t lie. In fact, I may be painfully and callously
honest, but I don’t lie.” He sighed and pulled back. “I also don’t want you to
confuse my instructing you in BDSM as a relationship. While I do care about
you, I’ll never be in a committed emotional relationship with anyone.”

His words stung and almost brought tears to her eyes. Then
again, he didn’t tell her that to be mean but rather to give her a reality
check. He watched her, a weary tilt to his head as if he expected her to freak
out. Pretending to be an urbane woman used to such statements, she smiled.
“Good, then we are in an agreement. You can date other people, and so can I.”

His brow furrowed. “I don’t share.”

“Well, what a coincidence, neither do I.”

He glared at her, and she glared at him until he closed his
eyes and shook his head. “Fine, let’s say this. Neither of us will have sexual
interactions with others while you’re in training with me. I believe that is
fair. But if you agree, that means for these next few weeks you are my
submissive in truth, Kitten.” His gaze raked her from head to toe. “All of you,
every single inch of your silky golden skin, is mine to play with, mine to
pleasure, mine to devour.”

Holy crap, she thought she just had an orgasm.

No, she wouldn’t be ruled by her hormones. Rallying her
remaining brain cells, she considered his words. This was important. Laurel had
said the negotiation stage was one of the most significant things to go over
before she did a scene with anyone. The thoughts of all the things she didn’t
want to do came to mind, chief among them being her total distaste for kissing
ass and scraping to anyone in public. No matter how hot he was, her pride
wouldn’t allow it.

“Okay. But outside in the real world, I don’t have to bow
down or stuff like that to you, do I?”

“No, I’m not into relationships where the Dom and sub are
always in their respective roles. Takes too much energy, and I don’t want that
much control or responsibility over anyone. I want a woman who I can respect
that submits to me out of her own free will and desires to please me. Someone I
can talk with and expect to have an opinion and mind of her own but who still
wants to serve me.”

She didn’t know about a desire to serve, but she definitely
wanted to see what he had to offer. Talking about what was going to happen,
before it happened was strangely freeing. She didn’t have to worry about
tiptoeing around sensitive subjects, and the ability to speak her mind was a
relief. No wonder this BDSM stuff appealed to people. If nothing else, it
opened up communication, something a lot of her relationships had been sorely
lacking.

“We’re still equal partners about the party planning,
correct? You won’t do any of that ‘We’re doing it my way because I’m a Dom’
stuff, right?”

He grinned. “While the thought is tempting, no. Our business
is somewhat separate from our pleasure. But once we are at the club or in a
private BDSM situation, I expect you to trust me to take care of you.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

She took a deep breath and considered him. Her body flooded
with adrenaline as she carefully searched his features. She didn’t want this to
just be a one-sided thing. His pleasure was important to her. She wanted him to
be as aroused as she was. The idea of being the only one getting off just
struck her as cold, clinical. He needed to open up to her as well, and even if
it embarrassed the hell out of her, she had to ask him in as frank of a manner
as she could what he desired.

“What do you want me to do? I mean, what can I do to be a
good submissive?”

“Let go of the reins for a while and let me lead.” Leaning
closer, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and groaned. “Oh, and I love your
hair. Never cut it.”

She blinked at him, trying to formulate enough thoughts to
tell him to piss off, that she’d wear her hair however she wanted, but he
jerked her head back and exposed her neck to his mouth and his teeth. He bit
her, then laved the sore spot with his tongue, creating an amazing blend of
hurt and pleasure. It certainly sent her body into overdrive, and she clutched
at his shoulders, urging him on.

He broke her hold and bit his lower lip. She tried to kiss
him, but he held her back and smiled. “Now, put your ears on.”

“But—” She shut her mouth at his dark look and sighed. Fine,
they were kinda cute anyway. She wrinkled her nose at him but complied, fixing
her hair in the dim illumination from the vanity light attached to the visor.
As she put the visor up, the black door to Wicked opened, and a big
ruddy-skinned man in a charcoal suit appeared. He filled the doorway with his
girth and motioned to them.

“Harvey is here to let us in through the Florentines’
private entrance. Now, once we get inside, I’m going to blindfold you.”

“What? Why?”

He left the car without answering and came over to her side.
He opened the door, then lifted her out. Cradling her against him, he carried
her through the chilly air. It was too cold to do anything but burrow against
him and silently urge him to walk faster. The moment they were inside the dark
wood foyer, he set her down and helped her out of his jacket. The security
guard gave a low whistle as her costume came into view, and she was ever so
glad she wore the mask. At least no one knew it was her acting like such a
wanton woman.

Isaac placed a hand on her back in a proprietary manner and
took a slight step forward. “Lovely, isn’t she?”

The guard nodded and gave her a wink. “I can see why you
want to keep her away from the rest of the club. The single Doms would be on
her like bees to honey.”

Isaac gave a fierce grin and fingered the medallion around
her neck. “No, this one is mine. I’m keeping her.”

Harvey’s jaw dropped, and he looked harder at her. “Really?
I mean I can see why…but wow. I think there were a few betting pools on how
long it would take you to find the right one.” He cleared his throat as his
face filled with a flush.

Confused, she looked up to Isaac, but he shook his head.
“Later.” He turned to Harvey and said in a chilly voice, “You have the green
room ready for us?”

The other man gave Isaac an apologetic look. “Of course.” He
walked over to one of the wooden panels in the wall and revealed a secret
access. Beyond it a small wrought-iron staircase curved upwards into darkness.
“Have a good night.”

Isaac nodded and pulled a black silk scarf out of his
pocket. Turning to her, he smiled and ran his thumb over her lower lip, warming
her from the inside out. His wicked grin was the last thing she saw before he
slipped the cool cloth over her face. She could still almost see her feet if
she tilted her head at the right angle, but he caught her and pulled her into
his strong arms. “Kitten, I want you to promise me you’ll keep your eyes closed
behind the blindfold. I want you to get the full effect of the room, and to do
that it’s best to reveal it to you from the inside.”

She pouted and looked in the direction of his voice. “Fine.
I promise not to look.”

“And I’ll trust your word.”

Irritated, she muttered something uncomplimentary about his
dick in French, and he pinched her bottom, hard enough to make her shriek.
“I’ll thank you not to compare my dick to a small carrot.”

“Umm.” She flushed and stumbled when he moved away. “I’m
sorry.”

“Not yet, but you will be.” While the words were
intimidating, his tone was nothing but sensual.

He took her hand and grasped her elbow, his touch helping
her navigate the steps. It took an extreme amount of willpower on her part not
to peek, to let him guide her when a wrong step could mean both of them
tumbling back down. The metal was cool beneath her feet, so she knew they’d
made the transition to a new area when soft carpet tickled her toes. She could
faintly hear falling water. The sound became louder as Isaac led her forward.

“Can I look?”

“Not yet.” He stopped her and pulled her into his arms with
her back to his chest. “You seemed to like the fountain, so I thought you might
enjoy this.”

The silk whispered off her skin, and she blinked, becoming
accustomed to the low, almost blue lighting. Right now she was looking at a
wooden door that didn’t seem too impressive; then Isaac turned them both slowly
to the right and tilted her head up. Her breath caught in her throat.

She didn’t think anything could top the garden, but she’d
been wrong.

A massive stone circle seemed to float over their heads. It
wasn’t polished smooth, more like raw rock found in a cavern. Somewhere even
higher above them, there must be an open pipe, because water poured down the
sides of the rock in constant waterfalls. Also descending from the enormous
circular ceiling were white, green, and pale pink orchids. As her gaze traveled
down to the floor, she noticed they were on an ultramodern island. The
carpeting was the same color as the rocks and felt like velvet under her feet.
A couch made of white fur faced the room, and a variety of white cushions were
scattered on the ground near it.