SecretDom (5 page)

His words were a jumbled mess in her head as his hand tucked her hair behind her ear and cupped her jaw before his lips brushed against hers. His lips pressed firmly against hers, teasing her lips apart. The feel and taste of his tongue as he slowly explored the sweet cavern of her mouth, tasting every inch until they were both breathless and panting, had her silently begging for more by the time he pulled

Chapter Seven

“Evan Daniels.” All she could do for a moment was repeat his name. If
there was one person everyone in the lifestyle knew, it was this man. A Dom in its truest form, but more than that, he was a man; honorable, chivalrous and decent.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…I’d imagined all kinds of people in my head from stalker, to
creeper, to Don Juan of the BDSM world, but I never imagined it could have been you who sent me those notes or the amazing gift, which fit perfectly, I mig
ht add.”
Her skin flushed red when the next words just tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.
“You’ve had a starring role in every fantasy I’ve had since that
night in Myles
’ club, but I never dreamed in a million years I’d actually be standing
here with you this way. In my mind you always deserved some professional
submissive, not…well…
not me.
I am flattered.” He was right; she did stop
breathing that first night they
’d met. There’d been s
o much strength in a gentle
touch when he’d taken her hand and brus
hed his lips across the back of her knuckles. Any man who could take her breath away like that warranted remembering.

“Rissa, I’ve spent more than a decade surrounded by professional
submissives, and not one of them ever tempted me to look twice. You, however, I
doubt I’d ever get enough of. There is a purity about you, a naturally submissive
nature that begs to be nurtured, not exploited or hidden.
If you’ll let me, I’d like to be the man who lets you truly embrace that side of yourself.”

His reassu
ring hand firmly at her back, she knew now why she’d felt like
that first step down the stairs was like stepping into a new life. To truly embrace her submissive nature, and with a man, a Dom as pure as the one standing before her offering his hand, meant a new life
—
one with endless possibilities for pleasure and happiness.

“I do have one question. The letter I received at work today,”
a deep blush crawled up her cheeks, and she looked anywhere but at the man in front of her.
“How did you know? I mean, what I did the last two nights?”

“You mean that you’d pleasured yourself and come for a fantasy? Honestly? I didn’t. I’d hoped you had, because even though you didn’t know who it was specifically, I’d hoped the mere idea of me would be enough to entic
e you into pleasure. I meant what I said though, that I want to be the one who satisfies you and
makes you happy, and even though I wasn’t there, it seems, judging by the blush on your cheeks, I did.” He answered her honestly, which was more than she’d b
een
able to say of most of the men she’d been with
, and it was a breath of fresh air.
“Please, give me a chance to show you how much I want to be that man for you.”

She gave him only a tentative nod. As he held his hand out for hers, she slipped her much smaller hand inside of his and gave him a soft smile behind lowered lashes. Her simple agreement to let him guide her at least for the night, and the approving smile he gave her in return was a reward in and of itself. The bartender took her empty glass, her coat, and her clutch and promised to have them
delivered to Mr. Daniel’s private room. Hyper aware of every tingle and every
nerve ending in her body, especially those centered in her breasts and her now slick thighs, she followed a step behind him, her hand firmly planted in his as he gave her the grand tour of the club.

“The Devil’s Boudoir is my club. I own and run it, but I have not yet had the
pleasure of the company of a submissive in my private room here. I meant it when I said yours was t
he only submission I’ve craved since that moment we first met.
There are a number of clubs in and around the city, though most of them are frequented by amateurs, or they lack the ambience conducive to the passion I personally look for in an exchange. I wanted to create a safe, comfortable environment for people to explore and embrace not only their predilections for what the vanilla world considers perverse, but for passion and love to be nurtured and to flourish. Single Doms and subs are not welcome here, only those who are permanently attached. The couple you were watching has been married for 12 years and is more in love today than they were the day they married. Each couple here is proof that true love and soul mates do exist, that fairy tales and love stories still
happen, even today.”

Evan stopped just before another couple and pulled her into his side, whispering low.
The woman was bound to a St. Andrew’s cross, while her Dom
wielded soft, worn lambskin cat-o-nines in a tribal rhythm up and down her body with firm flicks of his wrists.
She looked more asleep than anything else, but Evan’s
explanation helped Rissa understand more about the scene she was fortunate enough to be allowed to observe.

“His name is Timothy, and that’s his wife
, Janice. They lost their five week old baby to SIDS a couple of months ago.
He isn’t hurting her of course, they’ve just found it’s the only way either of them can get away from their pain and let their
minds and hearts rest. For him, it gives him back a sense of control over his world, and believe me, that woman is his entire world. For her, the steady rhythm gives her consistency, certainty. She looks at
peace because she is.” He stood and with a firm
hand at her lower back, escorted her back over to the bar.
“Everyone here is here for
a reason.
They’ve found something here that they need to complete themselves, or
heal.
We’ve all become a sort of family.”

Not normally one to
be left speechless, Rissa didn’t know what to say. The Doms she’
d known in the past dominated sexually, focused on carnal pleasure, but Evan seemed to be concerned with far more than just sexual satisfaction. To submit physically is to be free of the conventional norms and stresses of the day, but to submit more than just your body
—
your heart, your soul
—
what this man before her offered was more than just physical pleasure and freedom but total soaring, being completely and utterly free of EVERYTHING. Wait, no
—
he offered more than just freedom
—
he was giving her the chance to be whole again. That thought in and of itself was an unparalleled aphrodisiac.

In the split second it took her to realize what submitting to this man could mean, she realized
how empty she’
d
been in denying a side of herself that she’d only
just learned to accept and embrace so many years ago. How much it had hurt to have the man she
’d loved be unable and worse, unwilling, to accept all of who she really was, and how desperately she’d desired nothing more than to have someone
accept her unconditionally. When Deacon had discovered her desire to be dominated
—
to be told what to do; restrained, bound, even hurt a little
—he’d
been disgusted.
He’d told
her it made her weak if she needed someone to dominate her, made her a doormat to be walked on.
He’d been clear tha
t liking a little pain made her a freak, and so
she’d tamped down those desires, l
ocked up that side of her, but those words had always resonated in her mind every time he left their bed satisfied, leaving her unfulfilled.

Sure, Evan was beyond wealthy, a
nd she knew she’d be well taken care of,
but what suddenly made her belly flip and every nerve in her body light up with anticipation and excitement was knowing that he would not only accept her submissive nature, but nurture it. He would help her to grow, to love herself, and one day, to love another again. The annoying but usually right little voice in her
head moved into her heart and suggested that maybe the man she’d love would be
him.

A spark ran up her spine as she realized his hand never left the small of her back, and the deep velvet tenor in his voice cut through the fog of her own thoughts. The warmth of his breath against her neck as he whispered in her ear gave her chills, but his words made her insides flutter. Her nipples hardened to diamond-tipped points, and everything suddenly felt more than a little damp.

“I won’t ask you for forever, you don’t know me well enough for that, and
the last thing I want to do is scare you away.
I’m only asking for tonight. One
night. Can you give me tha
t?”

Everything inside her screamed yes, and yet, she barely heard her answer leave her lips, and prayed he heard it too.
“Yes.”

Again, he offered her his hand, and she took it without hesitation. She followed him down a long hallway. Private rooms lined the corridor, some with doors open for those with a penchant for exhibitionism, others were closed tightly, but the sounds from within spilled out from under the door. The crack of a whip against flesh, tribal drums keeping rhythm for a flogging scene, sighs, gasps, moans of pleasure and pain created a symphony in her ears, and she absorbed as much of the ambience as she could. Finally, he stopped at the end of the hallway. Above the door was a gold plaque bearing his signature Celtic filigree and the initial E just as
she’d seen embossed on his cards. Rissa wasn’t sure what she expected to find
when he opened the door
—
a Dom of his stature, perhaps she expected to see whips, floggers, paddles, chains adorning the walls, but the glimpse he gave her as he pushed open the heavy oak door was anything but. She tried to see around him, but he stepped just inside the door and turned to face her, his massive build eating up most of the door frame.

“I know my method of bringing you here was unorthodox, but I w
anted you to choose to follow what your heart desires, not what conventional wisdom warned you against. I know you called Myles to see if it was safe which tells me you are smart. I also know he told you that you would be safe with me, but the submissive gives the Dom power. A true Dom, a real man, will never take it or push you into giving up what is yours to give. Instead of dragging you in here like some caveman with a raging desire to be buried to the hilt deep within you
—
which, there is no doubt that is what my most basic instincts are screaming for right this second
—
the choice to step into this room with me is yours and yours alone to make. I promise if you step across this threshold with me, I will care for and cherish your gift, and you. I will push your limits, but I will not give more than you can handle. We will e
xplore and experience together.” His eyes lowered, and she stood aghast at the way
he humbled himself to her, but still maintained the air of a Dom.
“
Please, Rissa? Will you come
with me?”

Chapter Eight

How could she say no to this man now? Easy.
She couldn’t. All her
concerns about him being a total stranger or having stalker tendencies went out the window with his request. She lowered her gaze, and without saying a word, stepped over the threshold and leaned her forehead against his chest. She placed one hand over his heart and felt its steady beat as he wrapped his arms around her.

“My mother always said risk nothing, gain nothing. Even if all I gain here is
this night an
d a new friend that’s still more than I had before I received your first
letter or took the step of faith that brought me here.
” And here, in his arms, that tiny
voice spoke up once more, and she knew somehow by taking a step into his room and into his ar
ms, that she’d gained far more than just one night and much more than
just a friend. Something inside her warmed, and the ache that had taken up residence in her heart for the last 8 and a half months disappeared. Hope and an odd sense of being right where she was always supposed to be took its place. That
feeling both scared the shit out of her and soothed her, but she’d deal with the
implications of that feeling tomorrow morning. Right now, she was here, she was his for the night, and nothing else mattered.
If she’ hadn’t been dripping before, the
thought of being
his certainly did it.

They must have stood there for what seemed an eternity before he took a step back, pulling her with him, and closing the door behind them, shutting out the rest of the world the way being in his arms had done. Now she could see his private sanctuary, and for about the millionth time tonight, she found herself speechless. The same care and artistry that had been poured into every stitch of the gorgeous
corset he’d given her was evident in every fabric, every piece of furniture, and every
inch of his room. The polished marble stopped at the door, replaced by thick, plush carpet in the deepest of black that covered the floor and cradled every step in the most decadent cushion. The walls were covered in a black and gold wall paper, no doubt identifying the room as his the way the signature colors seemed to mark everything else as his, including her,
so long as she wore the corset he’d sent.