NaughtyNature (3 page)

Aria looked like she’d been plucked out of his perfect
submissive fantasy and brought to life. Damn, he’d be lucky to last more than
five minutes in her company, much less breaking down her barriers. Control, he
resolutely reminded himself, it was all about control. Everything would be
better, become deeper if only he could hang on to his control.

For a Dom of his nature, power should be as natural as
breathing. When Aria walked into his sight his natural restraint quaked.

Grandpop Hudson’s words echoed through his head,
“We
Hudson men are blessed to know when we meet the woman we’re going to love for
the rest of our lives. One look at your Nana and no other woman ever existed
for me. It’ll happen to you too, son. When you least expect it, BAM. Cupid’s
arrow right in the keister.”

“Seen enough?” Hayden, the male bouncer, interrupted Mac’s
unexpected stroll down memory lane. His bald head gleamed in the low light
while his brown eyes looked at Mac calmly from his six-and-a-half-foot height.

Walking away now wouldn’t change a damn thing. His cock had
risen hard at his first glimpse of the fey woman. Hell, he’d be lucky if she
came to his chest. It would make finding different positions all the more
enjoyable, which was why he’d always enjoyed having a petite woman. Without
even trying, her small size gave him advantages.

“Yeah, I’ve seen more than enough. She’s perfect,” Mac told
the other man and stepped back from the two-way mirror, knowing he spoke of
more than a Dominant’s approval of a new submissive. After all these years Mac
couldn’t believe his grandpop had been right.

He’d been struck with more emotions than one man could
handle with a simple glimpse of fairy sprite. Yep, Mac could almost feel
Cupid’s arrow quivering in his ass from the blow.

With a flick of his massive wrist Hayden snapped the
curtains closed. “She requested one of the themed rooms.”

“Oh yeah?” A slight smile formed on his lips.

“Yep,” the big bouncer grinned. “Operator said she wants the
Arabian Nights room.”

This surprised Mac. Easier for him to picture her in the
medieval room, playing the helpless princess being taken advantage of by a big
bad mercenary. Arabian Nights called up more sensuality than helplessness.
“Role play?”

Mac didn’t dislike role-playing, but he didn’t go out of his
way to find it either. He’d rather concentrate his focus on pulling as much pleasure
from his partner as possible. Playing dress-up just got in the way of it to his
mind.

“Nope, Operator said she just wanted the room, costumes, but
no role play.”

“Then I’d better go and give the lady what she wants.” He
allowed a predator’s smile to curve his lips.

He turned to leave when a hard-calloused palm covered his
shoulder.

“This one is so new she squeaks, Mac. Break her in right or
you’ll answer to me,” Hayden warned, those dark eyes turning hard with meaning.

Mac respected the warning just as he respected the man. His
pride might be dinged from the warning, but he could live with it. Besides it
brought home how superior this club was compared to most of its so-called kind.

The owners and employees of Unfettered cared about their
patrons’ safety. It showed in the paperwork signed, the ban on alcohol and most
of all panic buttons in each private and public playroom.

“I’d never do more than what she asked of me, you know that.
Operator called me too. I know exactly what my new sub wants then it will be up
to me to find out what she needs.”

“Just so we’re clear.”

Mac nodded his head at the other man. “We’re crystal.”

“Good, now go take care of the lady.”

With a hard cock and heavy balls, Mac left the viewing room
to do just that. He’d grab a pair of harem pants on the way. Anything would
feel better than the snug fit of his leathers holding his poor hard-on captive.

* * * * *

For once in her thirty-four years Aria hadn’t started
second-guessing herself the moment her decision was final.

She’d wanted the fantasy, true, but she wanted to be Aria in
the fantasy not some helpless princess in desperate need of saving. Regardless
of the circumstances Aria could and would save herself, but sex…oh sex fell
into a different category. A little helplessness in bed could turn the
strongest woman weak.

The hum of anticipation skimmed across her skin as she
slowly walked the circular room. Rich colors in deep purple, vibrant reds and
decadent emerald green completed the harem theme. Thick plush pillows were
tossed casually around the room, while the larger than king-size bed took the
dominant position in the center of the spacious room.

A flash of red moved in the corner of her eye and Aria
turned to face it, heart pounding in a frantic beat of nerves, anticipation and
the start of desire. Instead of looking at her Dom for the night, Aria stared
at her own reflection in the wide mirror hung strategically on the wall facing
the bed. This meant any and all actions that happened on the football
field-sized mattress would be shown here in bright living color.

A large, old-fashioned gilded mirror glinted with her
reflection and Aria stopped in shock. Yes, she’d seen the clothes when Dru
handed them to her, and as she put them on she’d been aware of the flowing silk
sensually caressing her skin, but there’d been no mirror to check her
appearance in.

Now Aria almost couldn’t accept the woman in the mirror as
herself. Instead of her normal, boring, business-oriented self staring back,
Aria saw a fairy or pixie looking back at her. Short, black hair curled around
her heart-shaped face while her big blue-gray eyes were luminous with desire.

Feeling unsure of herself for the first time since walking
into the room, Aria reached out and touched her image. The fingertips met the
flat polished silver surface and it finally sank in. Aria was the fey-looking
creature in the mirror and maybe the costume accentuated a few positives. The
tiny but sturdy jewel-encrusted bra thrust her C-cup breasts up and out. While
the big, flowing pants highlighted her curves without drawing attention to her
less-than-flat tummy.

Right now in this place Aria was proud of herself. Proud
that she’d made the decision and had the courage to follow through. Standing
here, she’d never felt more sensual or confident than she did at this moment.

A smile filled with pride and pleasure stole across her lips
as she moved away from the ornate mirror and took in the biggest piece of
furniture in the room.

The bed itself was an altar to decadence and all things
sensual. Thick carved wooden posts braced the bed from the four corners. The
glint of shiny silver rings caught her eye and stopped her in her tracks.

Solid silver rings were strategically placed in the corners
at the four pillars of the bed. She could imagine herself chained spread-eagle,
effectively restrained, open to his desires. Shivers raced up her spine as her
imagination took off. Fantasy and reality were two vastly different things and
seeing her wanton erotic dreams in the muted light of actuality shocked her.

Aria did want this. The wetness between her thighs, the
heaviness of her breasts and the hardness of her nipples were a testament to
the unleashed desire burning through her veins.

“You are a very beautiful woman, Aria.” A voice came from
behind her, making her jump and whirl around, one hand clasping her throat in
fear.

When she almost swallowed her tongue it had nothing to do
with fear. Standing before her wearing nothing but a pair of gold harem pants
stood the most incredible-looking man she’d ever seen. His face was too angular
to be called handsome, but it didn’t matter. Once you looked into those green
eyes any imperfections faded away. Full, wicked lips, a strong, Roman nose,
dark brows and eyelashes thicker and longer than any man had a right to framed
his amazing eyes. While full, shiny brown hair covered his head and completed
the boy-next-door-meets-porn-star look he had going for him.

He took a confident step in her direction as Aria continued
to salivate over his broad shoulders, narrow waist and an impressive set of
feet. His toenails, she was pathetically grateful to see, were neatly clipped
and filed evenly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

For some reason Aria couldn’t keep her eyes from straying
from the bed to the man and back again. “It’s okay,” she managed to mumble.

He smiled at her and like some desperate on-the-shelf
Regency heroine Aria’s knees went weak and she mentally cursed herself and all
the late nights she’d stayed up reading erotic romances.

“First thing,” he said, his voice as strong and sexy as the
rest of him, “your safe word. Have you chosen one?”

Safe word, she wondered, trying to shake her mind out of its
lust-induced numbness. “Safe word…oh yeah, sorry about that. Margaritaville.”

“Parrot-head, are you?”

Relief that he understood the reference and her favorite
musician had her legs trembling for a whole different reason. As if her
blinders had been ripped away she not only saw but also understood this man had
a life outside Unfettered. He had friends, family and a career. He wasn’t some
automaton who only came out to pleasure women then was put back in a box when
he wasn’t in use.

“Admitted Parrot-head with pride,” she returned, feeling
more confident with each second that passed. Easier to dismiss the way her
heart jumped in weird recognition at the sight of the tall, powerful man
walking to her.

“Then Margaritaville it is.” Before the last word left his
mouth the Dom’s expression changed, not unfriendly, but more businesslike and
less open.

Aria shivered as she stared at the man who stood staring
back at her. Her body ached for him, without even knowing his name. Her mind
however screamed for her to run as far and as fast as she could before this
stranger changed her for all time.

“According to the Operator we both agreed to reserve the
room for twelve hours with the understanding that the session will end anytime
either of us wants to walk out.”

“Yes, that’s what I agreed to.”

He gave a sharp decisive nod before continuing. “Aria, my
name is Mac, but in this room you will call me Sir. The Operator told me you
wanted to be dominated, submissive but not subservient. Is this correct?”

Aria nodded while her heart raced at the low timbre of his
voice. “Yes. I’m not into pain, humiliation or orgies. So…um…yes…Sir. The
Operator is correct.”

He nodded his dark head in understanding. “You want someone
to take control for a little while. To give up responsibility and let someone
else take over.”

This guy got it, got her. He understood that she didn’t want
to be made a slave or punished for behavior she found acceptable. Aria just
wanted someone else to be in charge for a change. She was so tired of being the
one everyone else turned to for support, ideas and solutions.

The bedroom was the last place she wanted to feel
inadequate. To waste her time with a lover wondering and worrying over her
performance. If she was being loud enough, too loud, sucking his cock hard
enough or too hard. Did he like her on top or bottom? Too many decisions, too
many choices and frankly Aria was tired of trying to understand what her lovers
wanted from her. Finally she wanted someone to just tell her. No guessing
games, no trying to read a man’s mind. Give her the proper instructions and
motivation, and Aria could be the perfect submissive. To her it was all about
the payout. In this case the payout being mind-blowing, earth-shattering
orgasms.

To let someone else make all the moves, to carry the burden
of both their pleasures and leave her with nothing to do but revel in her
sexuality. For once, just once, in her life Aria wanted to be selfish, to
concentrate on her own pleasure and it looked like Mac was here to help her
fulfill the wish.

He closed the distance between them in a few long strides,
his loose-fitting harem pants making no noise as he crossed the cushioned
floor. He gently clasped her upper arms and pulled her up against his warm,
masculine body. She trembled at the dark desire in his green eyes, at the feel
of his hard erection, at the scorching sexual heat he generated.

“Here are my rules while we’re in this room.” He held up a
single tanned, calloused finger. “Rule number one, you always answer me
truthfully when I ask you a question. If you lie then I might end up hurting
you in a way neither one of us would enjoy. Rule number two, there is no right
or wrong. There is only our desire and mutual consent—everything else is up for
grabs. Rule number three, my name is Mac, or if we’re doing a scene then Sir,
but never Master or Sire or Lord. Anything else will piss me off. Rule number
four, you belong to me and I don’t fucking share!”

The last part of his statement came out more a growled
demand than a statement of fact. What the hell was he talking about?

“I hadn’t planned on being passed around like a bong at a
keg party,” she said angrily. “You try to share me with anyone and you’ll walk
out without a matching set of balls.”

The last part she should have kept to herself. Maybe Aria
shouldn’t have used such a strident dominant tone, but Mac’d given her his
rules now it was time for hers. Quickly the Operator’s words of advice flowed
through her mind and she swallowed back the sharp retort forming on her tongue.
Instead she approached this unknown Dom with bare-bones honesty.

“May I tell you some things about me first? Since I’ve never
done this before?” Aria swallowed nervously as she waited for his nod. “I agree
to belong to you during our playtime here but I don’t wish to be shared. I’m
not good with the whole lord and master thing. I’m doing my best to follow your
orders, but please understand I’m scared to death that I’m in way over my
head.”