French Kiss (Decadence Nights Book 2) (5 page)

“It’s great for the bar end of business,” Dex explained with a frown, “but the dungeon goes woefully neglected. The ladies, and gentlemen, often can’t stop at the two drink maximum and aren’t allowed to play afterward.”

“Yes, and Thursday has turned into de facto RHR day as a result.”

Arturo grinned, guessing, but still asking for clarification. “RHR?”

She returned his smile. “It stands for regrets, hangovers, and resolutions, for those who overindulged, but depending on who you ask, it can also mean red hot rump day, sir. The latter by the subs of those masters who came to play on Wednesday night after the show, and more often than not ended up disappointed, finding it necessary to remind their subs the next day how to count to two. It has become a trend, you see.”

His speculative gaze turned back to Marilee who was nodding at something the DM was saying as she left the cordoned off area.

“I think I’ll see what that’s about,” Dex murmured as he set Elena on the couch beside him. “Are you recovered enough to stay here and wait for me, little one?”

“Yes, master. Or, I could go and try to talk to Mari.”

“Nope, it’s the Master Dom’s duty to see to the members.” He leaned in and kissed her firmly. “You rest. It’s early and we have the Sultan’s Chamber reserved at midnight. You’ll need your strength if you’re to please the sultan. I believe in three hours’ time, he’ll be in a very demanding mood.”

Arturo had turned back to face the stations, giving the couple a bit of privacy while his thoughts mulled over the situation with the mysterious widow.

Barefoot and straining on tiptoe, she scanned the crowd once again. She’d chosen the spot at the top of the short flight of stairs by the main dungeon doors because it offered the best vantage point of the playroom floor, as well as everyone coming and going. Although, even on the top step, her five feet seven-inch frame was not enough to see over several of the taller doms.

Was it a requirement that Decadence dominants be a minimum of six feet tall? She also wondered if drop dead gorgeous was a prerequisite to apply, because not only did they all seem to be above average in height, they were across the board, strikingly handsome. Case in point, the towering, dark haired, swarthy Adonis who had a curvy, blonde submissive slung over his shoulder as he strode across the floor to the rear staircase. Mari cringed as his huge, paw-like hand came down crisply on her upturned behind, effectively stopping her squirming. She recognized him as an owner, of which there were many, but she wasn’t sure which one.

As she watched him take the steps two at a time to the second floor loft, her heart wrenched at the wistful look on his sub’s face. Clearly, she didn’t mind the caveman treatment in the least. Mari sighed softly. The younger woman appeared happy, playful with her master, and in love, like she had been once. Mari averted her eyes as a sharp pang of loneliness stabbed through her chest. Dropping down flat-footed, she stared dazedly over the heads of the crowd as she was flooded with memories. Would it ever get better? For the millionth time, she asked herself why she had come.

It wasn’t to socialize in the bar or the lounge with like-minded people as many of the other members did. She preferred not to linger. Instead, she kept to herself, got down to business, heading out immediately after a scene. She told herself and the others who invited her to stay, most often the dom, she had a long commute home. It wasn’t a lie, but she used it as a crutch, a lame excuse to keep them at arm’s distance, and it didn’t fool anyone, most especially, herself.

She blinked as someone bumped into her. The tall man in black leather apologized, but his nudge brought her back to the present, reminding her what she was supposed to be doing at the moment. A scene. Her brows gathered as she wondered what had happened to Reyn, her long overdue dom. Arriving at the agreed upon time, at the reserved station, a spanking bench to be precise, she’d waited, and waited. After twenty long, embarrassing minutes, shrugging off inquiries and pitying glances for the poor submissive who’d been stood up, she had to admit when the dungeon monitor had asked that Reyn was a no show. Per club rules, she’d had no choice but to relinquish the station to the next set of eager players.

She looked down at her wrist out of habit. It was as empty as it had been the last ten times she’d checked. She huffed a soft, humorless laugh. A submissive didn’t wear a watch in a dungeon. It got in the way of cuffs and shackles, or of a dom’s restraining fingers.

The thought of being bound securely made her body tingle with desire at the same time she fumed over being stood up. This was only the second time she’d scheduled a play session with Reyn, which was once more than any of her other play partners, and it seemed, it would be the last. They’d confirmed their session by email just that morning. Perhaps she’d misread the time, or maybe he’d become annoyed with all of her restrictions, like the others. Whatever the reason, if he didn’t get there soon, she’d bail even after coming all this way. But she hadn’t considered anyone else tonight, and didn’t want to, not after the blow to her pride and because she didn’t feel like negotiating. It was exhausting, and risky; a new dom always an unknown variable in her safe little world. With Reyn, at least she had been through it before, and despite the sex being no more than mildly pleasant, more importantly, he was non-threatening to the masochist she had constrained inside herself.

She began pacing again, along the tile floor just inside the dungeon doors, barely aware it was heated for the barefoot subs’ comfort, confirmation that Club Decadence spared no expense. But the amenities didn’t impress her as they should, which was more proof that her coming here wasn’t quite right. And as her agitation grew, along with it, so did her guilt and shame.

In her mind, she’d been ready when she arrived. With this delay, however, doubts began to resurface as they always did after, in between, and leading up to each visit to the club.

Mari scanned the crowd once more, feeling a bit desperate. Her determination crumbling, she began to seriously consider giving up and going home. What’s more, that sounded like the best idea she’d had all night.

Decision made, she turned toward the locker rooms.

“Marilee, a moment, please.”

She spun, hope blooming that the deep voice belonged to Reyn, but it died, along with her faint smile upon finding it was Master Dex. The next moment her heart lurched in her chest. Why would he seek her out? In a year of membership, that had never happened before. She’d met him once for an interview prior to joining, something he did with all prospective members, so she’d been told. After that, she kept a low profile, out of trouble unlike many of the other submissives she’d observed. So why now?

A sense of foreboding swept through her, especially when she noticed the tall, dark haired, strikingly handsome man at his side. Although they’d never been introduced, from the first time she’d seen him throwing his whip, to the times she’d felt his eyes upon her, she’d most definitely noticed Master Arturo. He was impossible to miss.

Standing inches over six feet tall, his fit, muscular body was the epitome of strength and masculine grace. It wasn’t only his good looks and size that made heads turn, attracting appreciative glances, both male and female, as he meandered comfortably through the club as though he’d been a member for years instead of only a few months. Mari was convinced it was also the utter confidence and self-possession that rolled off of him in waves. On more than one occasion, she’d observed him interacting with other members, offering advice or demonstrating a technique to newbie doms when asked, and at least twice, she’d watched as he’d intervened with two hot-headed club members, tactfully setting things to rights before a disagreement had the chance to escalate. In a short time, he was the talk of the club, respected by the Decadence Masters and club doms, and sought after by the submissives.

As for Mari, she’d avoided him like the plague, well before she’d heard the whispers about the new French sadist, or had time to consider the man, his actions and all that he was. All it took for her was to see him wield his bullwhip to know he was dangerous.

It wasn’t something she’d likely forget and since then, despite doing her best to be where he was not, he always seemed to be nearby. Front and center in a scene with another lucky submissive, or wandering the main floor silently observing the play. Each time she’d felt his eyes on her, they were as they were now, silently assessing. Worried he would approach and offer more than she dared to accept, she had always looked away, or worse, she’d fled, finding some lame excuse to be where he was not. Although she hoped she was more circumspect in her escape than to actually run away, she worried that wasn’t exactly how it appeared to him.

Deliberately dragging her eyes away from him now, she refocused on Master Dex. “Yes, sir? Is something wrong?”

“I’m afraid so, Mari. Master Reyn called, he had an emergency at the hospital and won’t be able to make it.”

“Oh,” she replied with a sigh, relieved that it wasn’t something she had, or hadn’t done. The next instant she frowned, remembering a comment in his email. “He said he wasn’t on call tonight.”

“Yes, and he extended his sincere apologies for that as well. He would never have scheduled something with you if he hadn’t been fully available, but evidently, there was a major trauma and more surgeons were called in. It couldn’t be helped.”

“How awful,” she murmured as the image of mangled cars on a freeway flashed in her mind. When it quickly transitioned to a familiar flower strewn casket, she barely controlled a flinch.

Her memories were triggered less often lately, but when they came, they were sudden and painful. She tried to mask her reaction as she shook it off, but Master Dex’s perceptive eyes narrowed. Before he could ask questions, she redirected the conversation.

“Thank you for telling me, sir. Maybe next time.” With a nod, she turned quickly to leave, disappointed and unfulfilled as usual, but now feeling haunted as well. Her first step, however, brought her head on with a broad male chest, standing so close if she leaned a fraction of an inch forward, they would touch. Although she hadn’t seen him move, she knew exactly who it was, and while she told herself not to, she was compelled by some unseen force to look up. Before she lifted her chin, she swallowed, knowing she would find the one dom she’d hoped most to avoid.

The power of his gaze locked on hers, sending frissons of desire racing through her. It was too much all at once and she took an involuntary step back. Unfortunately, she forgot where she was and ran out of floor, teetering on the edge of the top step behind her. Her arms flailed, trying to maintain her balance as strong hands came out and encircled her waist, pulling her to safety.

“
Faites attention, ma chérie
.” Silky smooth, his cautionary tone needed no translation. As he looked down from his superior height, he didn’t let go, pulling her in a fraction closer until the tips of her breasts brushed up against his chest with each inhaled breath.

Mesmerized by his beautiful eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to look away. Not pale or dark like she’d thought earlier, but a mixture of colors falling somewhere in the middle like summer leaves just as the season is waning and turning to fall. There were little flecks of yellow scattered throughout the irises and at the edge, a ring of dark forest green, so dark it was almost black. They were stunning, and as she stared up into them like a love drunk fool, the little lines at the sides that said he laughed often, crinkled as amusement crept in.

She blinked once, then lowered her gaze.

“Good save, my friend,” Dex praised as he looked on. “Mari, this is Master Arturo, I thought you two might get along. You don’t come often, and I’d hate to see you leave disappointed tonight.”

She glanced briefly at Master Dex. The message behind his gently worded invitation was clear. It was extended, not as a request, but as a directive.

Under his scrutiny, and that of Arturo, whose gaze she could feel on her face, his fingers flexing subtly on her waist where he continued to hold her, she mounted her weak argument. “It’s a three-hour drive, sir.”

“Which you made with the intention of carrying out a scene with Reyn. Unless you’ve also had an emergency arise, time should not be an issue.”

She swallowed. For some reason the Master Dom was insistent on her having a scene tonight.

“Of course, you always have a choice, but I think if you decline, we will need to schedule some time to have a serious discussion about what you hope to get out of your membership at Club Decadence. Every few weeks or a once a month visit makes me feel as though we’re taking advantage and that your fees, which are nothing to sneeze at, have become more of a donation.”

“Do you have a problem with me,
ma petite
?” Deep and resonant, his lightly accented English flowed over her like a warm, relaxing shower, his French heritage clear in his rolling r’s and soft v’s more so than his endearment. She melted inside, never having heard such a seductive tone. At the same time, her panties dampened with lightning fast arousal, her lips became dry and her tongue stuck to the roof of her parched mouth. She would have swayed on her feet, if not for his firm grasp.

When she didn’t answer immediately, one arm slipped around her, anchoring her close while his free hand rose to capture her chin, angling her face up to his.

“Mari,” he prompted. “I believe an answer to a direct question is the polite response.”

Suddenly, she wanted to scream.
Yes! I have a huge freakin’ problem with you
.

But she’d been raised to be courteous, and after years of living as a lifestyle submissive, it was ingrained to be respectful of any dom. So she lied, in a soft tentative voice. “How could I, when I don’t even know you?”

He studied her upturned face at length with his hand lightly curled around her jaw, holding her still for his scrutiny. She returned his regard, feeling she had little other choice.

This close, exuding dominance from virtually every pore, it was no mystery why she’d been drawn to him even before she’d seen his handsome face. He was overwhelming and while her body trembled with pleasure, clearly wanting to stay, her mind rebelled in near panic. Yet, with his hands upon her, the heat of his body emanating in waves across the short distance to hers, she couldn’t run or hide. Nor could she escape with his eyes fixed upon her or with the Master Dom’s obvious ultimatum lingering over her head. And that is what it was, though he’d framed it in a pretty supposition, with an unqualified and implied ‘or else’, it was an ultimatum, as plain as that.

“Marilee, answering a question with another question is avoiding the point. I’d like an answer.” Arturo’s insistent tone, quiet, but with an underlying layer of steel, snapped her out of her reverie.

“As would I,” Dex said a moment later. “Do you have a problem with Arturo standing in for Reyn?”

Short of defiance or using her safeword, she saw no out and shook her head, caving like the intimidated submissive she was, in the face of two purely dominant men.