Sanctuary (4 page)

He couldn't possibly look as good as she remembered. Still, her pulse raced at a thousand miles an hour as she pressed through the dense crush of bodies, catching whiffs of sweat and perfume as she went, the sharp scent of alcohol. She made her way up the stairs to the loft above the dance floor, pushed through the crowd already surrounding the dungeon area of the club. Somehow she managed to get right to the front, until the metal railing that separated the Ring from the rest of the club was pressed against her stomach. People jostled her on either side and it took a moment for her to get her balance. She looked up and saw
him
.

Shaye walked to the center of the Ring to look at tonight's crowd. It was packed already, even though it wasn't ten yet. That was good. He liked to work in front of a crowd. It gave him a hell of a thrill, which was why he worked there almost every weekend. And he'd always loved working the girls who came, the innocent ones who wanted to try a little spanking, to get flogged in front of their friends. Cheap thrill. But not for him. For him it was the real thing. Or, as real as it got in this manufactured kink environment. If only they knew the evil thoughts that went through his head when he stripped them down to their underwear and gave them the first paddling of their lives. Virgin flesh.

He surveyed the throng already surrounding the enclosed dungeon area of the loft, looking for prospects. The girls often had to be enticed, flirted with, cajoled into entering the Ring. That was easy for him, almost too easy. How could any man not enjoy what he did there? Better to think of that than to scan the crowd for the one woman he'd dreamed of playing since the moment she'd stepped up to the railing last Friday night.

He pulled his shirt over his head, threw it on a bench and moved toward the railing. He loved it all, the powerful vibe of the people, the scents of leather and sweat and the faint aroma of fear when a new girl stepped into the Ring with him. He loved the pounding throb of the music that he used to create a rhythm in his swing. He loved the feel of tender flesh beneath his hands. Couldn't get enough of it.

His gaze moved from one end of the crowd to the other, slowly. And then he saw her.

Devin. He wouldn't have been able to forget her name if he'd tried. He'd thought of her all damn week, hoping she would come back. Beautiful girl, sweet-looking face. Innocent, even though she was a bit older than most of the others. But he loved that. There was a lot more to her, he could tell from her eyes, the way she held herself. He moved closer. Had she seen him yet?

He watched as she glanced around, as her hands gripped the railing in front of her, and he went hard simply looking at her fine-boned hands, at her lush red mouth. He'd love to kiss that mouth, to really kiss her, to feel her melt under him.

Shit. Where the hell had that come from? But there was no doubt he was getting hard just looking at this girl, his cock coming to life.

Down, boy.

She was all dressed in wicked black tonight, her short skirt showing off long, lean legs. He knew if he spun her around her ass would be flawless. He moved in to get a closer look, and while she had her head turned away he quietly slipped his hand over hers.

“Little Devin.”

“Oh. Hi.” Her face broke into a sunny smile. There was no pretense of the seductress there. No, she was simply happy to see him. She hid it quickly enough, but he'd seen it. Too late to pretend.

“You came back.”

“Well, I was here, you know…”

“It's okay. I like that you came to see me.” He gave her hand a squeeze and watched her blush. Charming. “Does this mean you've come to play?”

“Oh! No. I mean, I came to watch. That's all.”

Better than nothing. Pretty damn good, in fact, knowing she would watch him tonight. His streak of exhibitionism would love that. Not as much as if he could get his hands on her, but it was a start.

“Stay right here then. Things will get started soon. Are you sure you won't join me?”

She nodded, her auburn hair swinging. Looked like heavy silk. He wanted to touch it.

Shit.

Instead he lifted her hand and brushed a kiss across it, felt her small shiver. He smiled.

“I have to work now. Promise me you won't go anywhere without telling me.”

“Yes, okay.”

He lowered his tone. “Promise me, Devin.”

Her cheeks went gorgeously pink. “I promise.”

He left her and strode back into the Ring, where he prepared his work area, lining up the usual array of floggers, paddles and straps on a bench toward the back of the room. His whole body was still buzzing with the faint, sweet taste of her flesh on his lips.

The first girl came into the play space and Daniel, the ring master, sent her Shaye's way. Nice-looking girl. Young, blonde, pretty but hollow. Not nearly as attractive as Devin. Still, he took her to his station, to one of the X-shaped St. Andrew's crosses, stripped her down to her bra and the plaid skirt she wore, bound her to the cross at wrists and ankles with her bare back to him.

He went right to work on her, starting an easy rhythm with a light flogger, nothing that would hurt too much, just getting her warmed up. He focused on the music, watched the girl's breathing, pausing to check in and make sure she was okay.

But half his mind was on the other girl, the one watching from the sidelines. The one who made his blood boil like no one had in a very long time. She made his hands itch to touch her. To hurt her. To bring to life the natural submissive he sensed in her. It was an itch he
needed
to scratch.

Devin watched the muscles flex in his arms, his shoulders, his back, loved the way the heavy lines of his tattoos moved with each ripple of flesh. He was strongly built, heavily muscled but natural-looking. He moved gracefully for a man of his size and build. Every stroke was smooth, in beat with the music, which was some techno trance piece. The young blonde woman was quiet, her body swaying a little beneath the strike of the flogger he was using. And Devin's blood was humming through her veins in that same throbbing cadence.

She wished it was her up there, stripped down and under his hands.

No, no, no.

Too much, too foolhardy. Too unlike her. Hers was a life of perfect order, and this seemed like some form of bedlam to her. Yet she couldn't look away. Couldn't stop her body's reaction to what she was seeing.

She took a moment to glance at some of the other people playing in the Ring, but none of them held the fascination for her Shaye did.

Dangerous
, her brain reminded her. She didn't want to listen to it right now. But she wasn't brave enough to fight against it completely, no matter how much she wanted to.

She focused on him again and her body warmed up, a kind of molten heat that made her arms and legs tingle, go weak. Her sex was absolutely on fire with need.

What would it be like to spread my legs and let him touch me?

She moaned softly as she watched him. He moved around the woman, switched from flogger to paddle. He pulled up her short plaid skirt and swatted her round bottom. Devin squeezed her thighs together. She couldn't tear her gaze away from him, from what he was doing to the girl. Her hands gripped the metal railing.

If he asked her to come into the Ring with him now she wouldn't be able to refuse.

Peering through the dim and pulsing lights of the club, through the alternating light and shadow, she saw the flex of his hand as he gripped the paddle, the ripple of muscle in his shoulder as he pulled back to swing, the smooth golden texture of his skin. With every strike he landed on the woman's flesh, her own body surged with need. Desire flooded her system until she could hardly stand to watch any longer. As he landed each strike, she felt almost as though the sensation reverberated through her. Over and over, in time with the music, which seemed to flood her head with sound.

Her panties were absolutely soaked.

He finished with the volunteer and the same woman from the week before, the one in the red corset, took the woman away to a bench at the back of the room. He set his wicked tools of pleasure down, used a towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Then he walked right over to Devin and took her hand.

He leaned in close enough for her to hear him over the music without him having to shout. “Come play with me, Devin.”

The scent of him filled her nostrils, making her shiver. She shook her head mutely.

Say no, Devin. Say no.

He moved in closer, until his lush, masculine mouth was only inches from hers. His breath was sweet, minty. If she moved in the tiniest bit, turned her face to his, she could kiss him.

God.

“Come on, Devin. I know you want to or you wouldn't be here. You're not one of these people who get into the Ring to show off for their friends.” His voice was quiet, yet she could hear him over the pounding music, the crowd of people. And at this moment it seemed as if there was no one else in the world but the two of them.

He went on. “I can see it, you know. In the rise and fall of your breath, in the gleam of excitement in your eyes. I can
feel
it. But all you have to do is tell me you don't want this, that you have doubts, and I will back off.”

She could only shake her head. She knew if she spoke she would have no control over what came out of her mouth.

His fingers curled around her hand and he lifted it, held her palm to his bare chest, and she thought she might actually pass out.

“Can you feel it? That's my heart beating with need for you. I swear it.”

His voice was ragged with desire.

“Come with me, Devin. It's okay.
You'll
have all the power here. The power to say no. Do you understand? And you'll be in my hands. I'll keep you safe. And I'll make you feel better than you ever have in your life.”

The truth of his words hit her like a warm blow to the chest. The heat spread, infused her body, her throbbing sex. She couldn't say no. And so she said all that was left to say.

“Yes.”

Chapter Three

He felt her tremble, her soft little hand still in his as he led her through the gate and into the Ring. A cry went up from the crowd as he brought her in, the excitement of new flesh. Yes, he always felt it too, and the crowd loved it. But why was his heart hammering in his chest as though this were his first time?

Jesus.
He had to get himself under control.

It was this girl—this unbelievably beautiful girl—who was really scared to be there. Yet she had agreed to this, had wanted it. Still wanted it beneath the fear, he could tell. She held on tight to his hand. And the heat of her, the scent of her perfume, was driving him crazy.

Just do your thing.

He'd do his job, as he always did. But tonight, with her, would be different. He knew that already.

He led her to a pair of leather cuffs suspended from a chain toward the back of the room. He didn't want her right out in front, as he usually did, playing to the crowd. He wanted Devin to himself.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Focus. Focus on her.

Yes, easy enough when he looked at her—that perfect, porcelain skin with a light dusting of freckles, her flushed cheeks. Her green eyes were glossy, huge, her lashes long and dark, picking up a little of the colored lights on the tips.

He was going to strip some of her clothes off her perfect little figure. Couldn't wait. The noise of the crowd faded into the background as he reached out and brushed his fingertips across the fabric covering her stomach. She gave an answering shiver.

He glanced at her, watched her nervous smile. Saw desire on her face, in the way her eyes were starting to go a little heavy. Ah, she was going down already, although he was certain she had no idea what the sensation was. Subspace.

He loved seeing someone go down for the first time, into that trancelike state. Beautiful. Especially on her. He gloried in the sense of responsibility that came with it, that taking care of the person he was playing with was part of the control, the power trip, everything heightened by the dynamic.

He ran his hand over her back, around her sides, down until he'd tucked his fingers beneath the hem of her top.

“Okay, Devin?” he asked. “Still with me?”

She nodded, smiled. Gorgeous smile.

His cock twitched when he pulled her top over her head and her black lace-clad breasts came into view. Not too large, but so damn perfect. He watched her take in a few deep breaths. She was nervous as hell. But he could almost smell her desire. The flush on her cheeks had spread down over her chest. Oh yes, she wanted this. Was every bit as excited as he was.

He spanned his hands around her waist, letting them rest there for a moment, needing that contact to read her. Jesus, her skin was baby-smooth under his hands. What would the rest of her feel like?

She looked up at him and those emerald eyes locked on his, held him. She was really and truly scared.

He stroked her hair from her cheek with one hand. Jesus, exactly like silk. “It's okay. I'll take care of you. Can you trust me, Devin?”

“I…I think so. I'm just…I've never done anything like this before.”

“But you want to, don't you?”

She paused, then nodded.

He leaned in and inhaled the scent of her. Like flowers and sex. He moved in closer, until he could speak right into her ear. “Relax,” he told her. “Put yourself in my hands. Turn yourself over to me. You can do it. Okay?”

“Yes. Okay.”

Jesus. Her tremulous voice alone had him hard and nearly panting.

Do your job, man.

Yes, his job. “Devin, we need to go over your safe words. Do you know what that is?”

“Safe words?”

“If things get too intense for you, you need to tell me. If you need me to slow down, go easier on you, if you're experiencing any sort of discomfort, even if it's that the cuffs are too tight, say ‘yellow'. If you want the scene to stop completely, say ‘red'. And I will stop, I promise you. Do you understand?”

She shrugged, trying for a nonchalance that was entirely transparent to him. She was still trying to hang on to some control, but it was gone already. It had been since the moment she'd agreed to come into the Ring with him. “It sounds easy enough.”

Easy enough for her. He was the one who had to hold it together.

He laid his hands on her shoulders, ran them down over her arms. The skin there was as soft as her waist had been. He took one wrist in his hand, raised it over her head and buckled her into the soft leather of the cuff. Her small gasp of surprise pleased him. He did the same with her other hand. By the time he had her completely bound she was breathing hard, every breath making her breasts swell against the confines of that sexy black bra.

“Calm down, Devin. It's okay.” He took her chin in his hand and tilted her face. Her eyes were huge, her lush, red lips parted. It would be so easy to kiss her now, just slide his tongue into the wet heat of her mouth…

Jesus. Get it together.

That was not something they did, here in the Ring, which was, after all, nearly child's play in the larger scheme of things. Dungeon junior. But they were all pros here, not people looking for relationships. Kissing was out.

He sucked in a breath. “We'll start out easy. Okay?”

She nodded.

He moved around behind her and smoothed his palms over her back. He could barely restrain himself from slipping his hands around the front of her to cup the soft mounds of her breasts. Unbearable hard-on at the thought. But her ass could be his. He slid her skirt up until he uncovered the black lace thong that matched the bra. Her ass was every bit as perfect as he'd known it would be. But he'd have to get to that later.

He let the hem of her skirt fall around the tops of her thighs and picked up the small flogger he used on the new girls. It was light enough to get some good sensation, but not enough to hurt unless he really wanted it to. He
wanted
to hurt her—of course he did. But he wanted her to like it, and he knew for that he had to bring her into it slowly.

He started with a gentle stroking of the soft suede thongs over the smooth flesh of her bare back. After a minute he saw her let out a breath, saw her shoulders loosen. He kept up the easy rhythm, watching the tension in her body shift. She was breathing harder, but it wasn't fear or pain. He could feel her arousal coming off her as though it were a palpable thing. His body answered in kind, but he ordered himself to calm, to focus on nothing but her.

Another few minutes of that slow, easy stroke, then he gave her one good smack. She yelped.

He moved around to the front of her, lifting her face in his hand so he could see her eyes. They were lit up, like green sea glass. And there was a small smile on her face.

That smile went through him like the pure heat of the sun and landed in a warm knot in the pit of his stomach. He tried to shake it away. But looking into her eyes, with the scent of her perfume surrounding him, infusing him, he couldn't do it. The heat traveled through his body, making his cock even harder. He couldn't help himself suddenly, even knowing the others would give him shit for it. Didn't matter. He had to do it. He bent his head and kissed her.

She was half out of her head and she knew it. But when his lips met hers the entire world faded away. God, his mouth was soft and hot. She leaned in, wanting more, felt one of his hands slide around the back of her neck, his fingers burying in her hair. She opened her lips, inviting him inside, but he pulled back, leaving her needy and panting.

He slid his hand up over her cheek, looking into her eyes. His were shadowed, unreadable. But she could sense the heavy rhythm of his breath.

She had never been in such an exquisite state of arousal in her life.

“Are you ready for more?” he asked her.

“Yes.”

If only he would kiss her again. Kiss her and kiss her and never stop. But he moved back around behind her once more. She steadied her racing pulse, ready and wanting the soft kiss of his little flogger almost as much as she wanted his lips on hers.

She didn't know why it felt so good, but it did. She'd been scared only the first minute or two before her body had relaxed into it as though familiar with the cadence of his strokes. And there was no real pain. For some reason she didn't understand, she knew she wouldn't mind if there was.

He started again right away with the flogger, the leather hitting her skin, releasing its earthy scent. Her body moved right into it, loving the sensation, loving even more that it was
him
doing this to her. Over and over, while her mind went into a sort of trance of buzzing desire. Then one hard, sharp smack. She gasped, melted, smiled. A cry rose from the crowd. She realized she'd forgotten all about them, about the hundreds of people watching. And this startling realization sent a surge of excitement through her.

His face was next to her ear suddenly. “How are you doing? Do you want more?”

“Yes. Please.”

Was this really her there with him, doing these things, asking for more? But she couldn't find it within herself to care. All she knew was being under his hands. It was too good to stop.

This time he hit her harder. Her body seemed to absorb the sensation, to turn it into pure pleasure. And after a while she found if she opened her eyes and focused on the crowd, their energy fed her. Fed her pleasure, her desire. The scrap of lace between her thighs was soaking wet.

She had no idea how long she'd been there when he stopped and wrapped an arm around her waist, his palm flattening on her bare stomach. Fire flooded her and she wished he'd move his hand lower. Right there, in front of all these people. She didn't care. She only knew what she needed.

“Jesus, what you do to me, Devin.” His voice was rough. He was breathing as hard as she was. He sounded like a man who'd just had sex.

God.

She moaned, let the weight of her body hang against the leather cuffs holding her up.

“I think you're done,” he told her.

“No!”

He laughed. “Oh yes, you are. You're too far gone to know it, but that's my job, to take care of you.”

Yes, take care of me…

She knew she wasn't thinking straight. She didn't care.

He unbuckled her and her legs went weak. She fell into his arms. Nothing had ever felt better to her.

“Ah, I've got you, my girl.”

My girl. Sweet.

He held her for a moment, buried his face in her hair. Her body was alive, electric, lit up with desire. He half-carried her to the padded bench against the back wall. The girl in the red corset approached and she knew he was going to leave her there with her.

“Shaye…please.”

He knelt on the floor in front of her, rubbed her arms. “What is it? What do you need? Are you cold? Thirsty?”

She shook her head. “Don't go away.”

He stared at her, his hazel eyes serious, full of smoke. He bit down on his lip, his strong white teeth coming down on the soft flesh, sinking into it.

She wanted him to kiss her again.

Finally he said, “You are fucking amazing, Devin. But I have to go to work. Melissa will take care of you.”

She shook her head. Why did she feel like crying? And then, to her horror, one big, fat tear slid down her cheek.

“Jesus,” he muttered, then pulled her into his arms. “Shh, you're okay, you're just crashing. It usually only happens with heavy play. You'll be okay in a while.”

She felt okay with his strong arms around her, crushed against his chest, his bare skin right up against hers. Better than okay. As long as he didn't get up and leave.

Again he said, “I have to get back to work.”

She shook her head mutely, tilted her head and pressed her lips to his. She heard a moan from him before he opened his lips and his sweet tongue slid into her mouth. She pulled it in, pulled in his breath. Her arms went around his neck. His kiss was hard and wet. She was wet too, had never been so wet in her life.

He stopped, pulled back. “Damn it, Devin. I'm not supposed to do this with the club girls.”

She managed between panting breaths, “I'm not another club girl.”

He looked into her eyes. He bit his lip again, making her want to put her tongue there, to lick that tender spot. She shivered.

He let out a long breath, ran a hand back through his hair. “Fuck it. I'm taking you out of here.”

He helped her to her feet, and with one arm looped around her waist, said to the red-corseted girl, “Melissa, get her shirt for me, will you? I'm taking the rest of the night off. Tell the others.”

The girl did as he asked, and he helped Devin back into her top. Then he led her from the Ring, down the stairs, almost carrying her through the press of bodies and the thundering music. He stopped to get her coat, draped it around her shoulders and led her from the club into the cold night.

Outside she pulled the frosty air into her lungs, trying to get her brain working while he talked to the doorman, who sent another guy off at a run to retrieve Shaye's car. They stood in silence, his arm still firmly around her. She was surprised when the kid from the club pulled up in a silver BMW. This was Shaye's car? Somehow she'd assumed he was one of those classic club guys who drove some junker and lived with six roommates in a flat off Haight Street. Not that it mattered.

He helped her into the passenger seat, went around and got in.

“I'll take you home. And it'll be whatever you want it to be. Or not to be. I promise you that. Tell me where you live.”

She gave him the address and he shifted the small, sleek car into first gear and took off. The night seemed heavy with silence after the pounding music of the club. She felt enveloped by it, as though they were isolated from the rest of the world, just the two of them driving through the darkness.