Unleashed (3 page)

“You’re in luck
,” Roarke says, not thinking I’m strange for seeking the sadist out. “Dexter just got here,” he answer as he steps aside and opens the door.

“Thanks,” I say as I step over the threshold
to enter a quiet Restraint. A burning sensation crawls up the back of my neck, a feeling of being watched- pure instinct. After my violation, I trust that gut feeling that overcomes me from time to time. I call it self-preservation. I slowly turn and look to my surroundings. I see no one and nothing out of the ordinary.

“What’s wrong?” Roarke looks around as he asks
.

“Does it feel like someone is watching?”
My voice quakes with paranoia.

“I don’t see anyone or feel anything, Kat,” he says in confusion.

I shake my head at him as I try to scratch the sensation away. I let it go. I’ve had a few shocks in the past few days. My imagination is just playing tricks on me. The inside of Restraint is a shock as well: the dance floor is empty, the lights are bright, and it’s so quiet that every sound echoes.

I spy Kristal stocking the bar
, and make my way to her. I flinch at the sound of my low heels ricocheting through the space. “Kristal, have you seen Dexter around?” I politely ask.

The wiry, toffee-
colored female turns to me with an irritated expression on her face. She and I haven’t made the best impression on each other. “He’s in his room,” she grunts at me and goes back to stocking the bar.

I wait until Kristal
looks up from her duty. “What now? I’m busy,” she forces out.

“I…
” I start to stutter and I force myself to stop. I don’t know why Kristal always unnerves me. I can sense her dislike of me, and I don’t know why she took an instant hate-on for me. “I don’t know the door codes,” I say as I draw my shoulders back, forcing my inner-confidence outward.

“6-6-6-9,” Kristal quickly mutters out the code
. “Don’t make me repeat it,” she says as she gets back to work.

I don’t bother saying goodbye.
I just leave Kristal to her job. I’ve rubbed her the wrong way and I’m not sure how.

I’
m surprised to find the door to Dexter’s private room open. I know it’s still daytime, but I assumed that if he was here, he’d be entertaining a submissive. I lean on the door frame and stare gape-mouthed at the sight that is Dexter. He is small for a man, maybe five and a half feet tall. What he lacks in height he makes up with muscle. He isn’t bulky, but he’s lean and cut.

My eyes glue to Dexter
in fascination as he cleans his flogger. He’s shirtless since the room is above comfortable temperature. I watch as a drop of sweat creates a path down his back, gliding around all those perfect striated muscles. The drop disappears beneath his low-slung, leather pants. A shiver rocks my body at the thought of the bead sliding down the crack of his bitable ass.

“Katya, snap your mouth shut, close the door, and have a seat,” Dexter commands
, and I listen. He must have felt my eyes devouring him. I blush like a bastard and find a seat.

I sit on the corner of a
brocade chaise lounge. My eyes flit around the room, taking in every detail as I try to avoid looking at Dexter. The room is nothing like I would expect. Dexter’s private space is very warm and inviting, not what I would expect from a sadist. I guess I expected a slaughterhouse feel. It’s reminiscent of a French bordello: soft, velvet draped Victorian style furniture. It’s very pleasant with the exception of the BDSM torture devices scattered around the room, all a shiny, lacquered black.

“Does Ez have the rooms
pre-decorated or do you guys get creative license when you’re given a room?” I wet my mouth several times with my tongue. I’m nervous for the conversation I came here for.
“Kat, is that really what you came to ask me?” Dexter knowingly says as he glances at me from over his shoulder. A little ringlet of dark hair swings over his forehead.
There was a little girl, who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead. When she was good, she was very, very good, and when she was bad, she was horrid.

Well, Dexter
isn’t a girl, but I’m sure he can be horridly spectacular. His fingers pull the curl back into place as he looks at me with patient eyes.

Yes, I am stalling
. I take a fortifying breath, and expel it as words, “I have something to ask, but for once I need some foreplay. Just a little bit of small talk.” I look down at my hands and twist my fingers together.

Dexter
shakes his head yes and turns to face me. Any pretense of not looking at him evaporates. My mouth dries up as my jaw unhinges, my eyes bug-out at the sight of him.

Dexter is shirtless and shoeless. All he wears is a pair of
tight, black leather pants that fit him like a glove. I’m not entirely sure how he pulled them on. The leather was made to fit him, as if Dexter was poured into the fabric when he got dressed this morning. His belt is made up of round metal rings. I try not to look at the bulge pressing against the fabric and fail. I know exactly what that cock looks like when it’s unleashed from that tight leather. My blood boiling beneath the surface tells me I want to unleash it myself.

Dexter
challengingly looks me straight in the eyes as rubs the palm of his hand against his cock, moving the bulge into a more comfortable position. His groan elicits an indescribable sensation in me. It’s like I just took a hit of lust, a dangerous narcotic shot directly into my veins. I wipe at my mouth hoping to find it dry. Dexter is sex personified, and I hope to God that I’m not drooling. This was not a good idea.

“Those are some spectacular,” I clear my throat, “pants ya go
t there, Dexter.” 

“I can give you the numb
er to my tailor,” he deadpans.

“Yes,
please,” I say. I can’t help it- the entire situation is so ridiculous that I burst out laughing. “Sorry, so sorry,” I say as a few more giggles bubble up.

“Real
ly, what do you need, Katya?” Dexter gives me a genuine smile as he settles himself on the spanking bench he was using as a worktable.

“I want you to train me,” I blurt out.

“As a submissive or a dominant?” Curiosity and worry war across Dexter’s face.

“Both,” I answer.

“Nah… no, not a good idea, Kat, I mean it,” he quickly answers.

“Why not?” My mood plummets.
I hadn’t expected him to disagree so quickly. I’d thought he’d think it over for more than a split-second before he rejected me.

“I will
take you under my wing for dominance training, but only if your master agrees. I’m sure Ez will agree, but I have to hear it from him first,” Dexter stresses.

“Thank you,” I quietly murmur, feeling uncomfortable and doubting my decision to seek Dexter out.

“But I cannot train you for submission. I just can’t do that with you. There is something in you that calls to me. I know you can feel it, too. It’s like our needs complement one another. And I can’t go against Ezra like that unless he invites me.”

Dexter’s
use of Ezra instead of Ez throws me. I thought no one knew who Ezra and Cortez were. “Ezra?”

“I’m the one who trained both Ezra and Cortez. Ezra found me when he was at a precipice and needed guidance. He actually opened Restraint for us to all have a safe haven to unleash our needs.
I am part owner of the place.”

Shocked over Dexter’s admission, I mumble, “Is
that why you pulled your hit at his punishment?”

“No, I pulled it because it was Ezra bei
ng punished, not Master Ez,” he cryptically says. Either to distract himself or me, he reaches over and grabs a bottle of leather conditioner. He squirts some on a rag and tenderly rubs the conditioner along his leather flogger.

“I don’t understand.”
I scrunch my face and peer up at Dexter. I refuse to be distracted by his aura of sex and power or the tease of toys.

“Ezra isn’t like the rest of us. We are who we are
, and at all times. No, I don’t go around hitting people all day long. That’s not what I meant. I follow specific rules every minute of my life. Take yourself for instance: when you punished Ezra you blossomed, became who you, in essence, truly are. You bloomed into a strong, assertive, confident woman. You are always these things, but more so during a scene. The scene causes your confidence to grow. You and Cortez are a lot alike. Ez is either Master Ez or Ezra… and on very rare occasion, he is both.”

“I understand what you mean about
Cortez and me. But I don’t see what you’re getting at in reference to Ezra,” I say in confusion.

“Think about Ezra
, remember him. Try to remember the way he is with you. He is either Ez or Ezra. You’ve never seen him as both. I don’t mean to say he has multiple personalities or anything major like that. It’s just that Ez hasn’t fully meshed the two together. He is better now that you are with them. Before…” Dexter trails off.

“I think I understand. I noticed s
omething like that this morning. It was like Master Ez flashed in Ezra’s eyes.” I shrug because I don’t get it, but at the same time I do.

“That’s why I pulled the hit. That is why Aaron was angry with you.
If Master Ez had been strung up for the lashing, we would have all gladly participated. But it was Ezra hanging there,” Dexter sadly says.

“Shit,” I say with feeling. “Are you saying I did the wrong thing? I mean I could feel his need to repent.” Tears prickle my eyes as
I try to thwart their descent.

“No, no, you were spectacular. I mean it
, Kat.” Dexter leans forward and pats my knee. I stare transfixed at his hand. It’s not much bigger than my own hand. “Ezra needed it. He needed to be punished by
you
,” Dexter firmly stresses the
you
.

“You know what happened
, don’t you? Just so you know, I don’t blame Ezra, or Aaron and Cortez.” I wipe away the tears that began to fall at the mention of our shared painful past.

“
I know everything,” Dexter admits, sympathy etching his voice. “I needed to know all the details in order to train them, avoid the emotional triggers. But I knew long before that. I was with their family during the abduction. I’ve known Ezra and Cortez since they were twelve year old boys, and I met Aaron when he moved to their home, ShadowHaven. So believe me when I say not to worry. Ezra needed to be punished. He’s lighter since then. You didn’t know him before- intense wasn’t an accurate word to describe Ez.”

“You keep saying before
as if it should be capitalized. What do you mean?” Even as I ask, I already know deep down what that
before
means. It’s life before and survival after an attack.

“Before Ezra
found you again. Before you came back. Before Ezra found you, he was a disastrous mess, lost, dwelling in his pain and mental instability. When he saw you three years ago, he found a purpose. Now that you are with him, he is content.”

“Okay, so what do I do?”
I shake my head at Dexter, and silently vow to figure out the puzzle known as Ezra.

“Explain to your M
aster why you wish me to train you. He will then contact me. If he says yes, he’ll give you a time to meet me.” Dexter shifts on the table and the movement distracts me. My eyes follow every masculine curve of his body. Dexter ripens before my eyes from the appreciation. He huskily clears his throat, gaining my attention. “Katya,” he commands, but it’s breathy and lust-filled.

“Sorry, sorry, you distract me. Um-” I try to order my thoughts. “Can you at least advise me in the ways of a submissive? After all
, that is what I will need with Master Ez. I mean, can you tell me what the submissives are doing right or wrong, and then I can learn from their example?”

“Yes,
” Dexter sounds relieved. “Yes, I can absolutely do that,” his voice is husky, yet soft. He uncomfortably shifts again. “You need to leave, sooner rather than later,” he warns.

“Why
?” I ask. My tone filled with hurt and rejection. I want to build a friendship with Dexter. It’s why I chose him to mentor me. Can you be someone’s friend when they dismiss you so easily?

“Katya, I know y
ou’re not doing it on purpose, but you’re calling my needs. I refuse to break a ten year friendship with Ezra. But you’re making it extremely difficult,” Dexter groans. “Plus, I need to get back to work.”

“I’m sorry
, I don’t mean to,” I whimper, blushing bright red from embarrassment. “I don’t even know what I’m doing to trigger it.”

“No, it’s fine. After I speak with Ezra
, we will find a way to release our needs without breaking any rules. But, if he says no, you must keep your distance. I mean it, Kat,” Dexter roughly commands.

“Agreed,” I state.
“Where do you work, anyway?” I say to change the subject, but I am really curious as to where the sadist is employed. Every second that ticks by, our needs are thickly cloying the air, making it difficult to breathe through the lust.