In the course of his thirty-two years on the planet, Jax had taken a lot of risks…all of them calculated. He’d also made a handful of unfortunate dumbass decisions. All of those had been a result of rash actions. But until now, not a damn one of them had been made by his dick.

Since he’d put Stefan in his place, Jax told himself he was taking care of her as her dad would expect.

Brian would not expect Jax to take her upstairs to bare her ass and spank it. Yet that was precisely what he intended to do.

Some fucking hero he was.

He eased off the barstool and offered his hand. This time, she took it. He leaned forward so that his mouth was near her ear before he said, “You’d be smart to run.”

She shivered. “Are you planning to hurt me?”

“Very much so. In the exact ways you want.”

“So why are you warning me away?”

“One way or another, I am going to tell your dad I found you here. And I either have to confess I was the one to give you what you asked for or tell him I rescued you once, but he’s in charge of doing it in the future.”

“When did you get a conscience, Jax?”

“Confession is good for the soul.” He waited a beat. “What’s it to be? Frustration or satisfaction?”

“I might hate you more at the end of tonight than I do right now.”

“I guarantee it.”

She slid her palm into his.

“Brave, foolish princess.”

“If my father is going to rule my life from here on out, I might as well enjoy the night.” She slipped from the stool and very nearly into his arms.

Fuck if he didn’t want her there.

Together, they walked to the main reception area to claim one of the private rooms before he collected his toy bag from the coat check room. “Ready?”

Her breathing had evened out, letting him know that she wasn’t nervous and she did find the whole process of BDSM relaxing.

They pushed through the frosted-glass door back into the dungeon and were thrust into the pulsing sounds and sights. “How often do you attend?”

“I try to get here once a month.”

Unfortunately that was something he was going to have to put a stop to. And he was pretty sure how he was going to do that. She was going to like the idea a whole lot less than he did.

Her steps faltered near a Saint Andrew’s cross and she touched his forearm. “Can we watch for a moment?”

“Of course.” It was the first time she’d touched him without his prompting. At this point, he’d gift wrap the moon and offer it to her on a star.

A pretty submissive was secured with her back to the X-shaped frame. She was blindfolded, and dozens of clothespins pinched tiny pieces of skin. Her Dom was flicking them off one at a time with a crop, each stroke making her scream in agony

Surprising him, Willow’s mouth was parted and her eyes glazed. No doubt she’d enjoy sensation play, even if she’d never indulged in it before.

When all of the clips had clattered to the concrete floor, she exhaled, and he realized she’d been holding her breath. There was so much he wanted to introduce her to, so many places they could go together.

They walked through the dungeon and pushed open the door leading to the U-shaped part of the club and the stairs to the second floor.

When they were halfway up, they paused at the landing. From here it was possible to survey the entire club. The dungeon was a hive of activity, thumping in time to the music.

Two rooms were occupied in Kinky Avenue. In one, a sub wearing a thong and pasties was fastened into the stocks, and her gaze was fixed on the Dom in front of her as he sorted through his collection of canes.

“Perfect for voyeurs,” Jax said.

“Is that one of your kinks?”

“From time to time, yes. I enjoy participating, but I also admit I love watching a woman surrender. I get a kick from all of her reactions, joy, fear.” Her head was tipped back. Her hazel eyes were wide, and for the first time, her mask of suspicion had dropped away. She was looking at him with interest, stroking his already massive ego. He liked her hanging on his words almost as much as he enjoyed their verbal sparring. “I will particularly enjoy watching the striptease you’re going to perform for me.”

Color drained from her face. For a woman who was bold enough to visit the Quarter, she had an air of innocence about her. The no-penetration rule was a smart one with a new play partner. It kept up the boundaries and prevented unnecessary emotional vulnerability. Yet some of his suggestions seemed to shock her. Willow Henderson was an interesting paradox. Jax vowed to unlock all her secrets. “Shall we?”

They continued up the stairs. Tore, Aviana’s most trusted dungeon monitor, stood at the entrance to the private rooms, arms folded across his massive chest. Like all other monitors at the club, his black vest was adorned with a gold fleur-de-lis. “Room six, Mr. Mills.” Tore glanced at Willow. “Someone from the club checks on the scenes.”

She nodded.

After stroking his beard, he stepped aside.

Jax rested his fingertips on her exposed skin, right above the waistband of her skirt. She hissed in a breath. And like each time they touched, sexual force pulsed through him—something alive, something he wanted to mainline.

At the entrance to their room, she waited for him open the door before preceding him inside.

The walls were painted a neutral color, which left the spanking bench as the main focus. Pleasing him, she went to it and trailed her hand across the top.

After placing his bag on the side table that was made from surgical steel, Jax dragged a chair to the center of the room. “Talk to me, Willow, at any time. You won’t be gagged.” He paused. “This time.” As certain as the sun would rise, he would dominate this innocent again.

Her tiny gasp pleased him—fear wrapped in a gentle plea.

“Please remove your shoes.” He took his seat and steepled his hands in front of him.

He expected some hesitation. To his delight, she showed none. She wanted this as much as he did.

With her gaze on him, watching his reactions, she lifted one foot and tugged off the black stiletto. She had exquisite balance, and she had taken his words about a striptease to heart. The shoe fell to the floor with a sensuous thud.

She repeated the process with the second shoe Then she scooped up both and tucked them beneath his chair.

He inhaled her fresh scent. It reminded him of spring, the promise of hope. Over the years of being surrounded by people as ambitious as he was, she provided a respite he hadn’t known he needed.

Willow returned to where she’d been standing and reached behind her to lower the zipper on her skirt. She let go of the leather all at once, sending it swishing past her hips.

She stood before him in a T-back thong, just the barest bit of satin covering her pussy.

Rather than revealing that bit of herself, she moved closer to him.

What in the fuck was she thinking?

She straddled his knees, not lowering herself, but leaning her upper body toward him. “You asked for a striptease, Sir.”

What in the fuck had he been thinking?

Willow skimmed her hands up her ribs to take hold of her crop top. As she pulled it up, she gyrated her body. His cock swelled, pushing hard against his zipper. When she’d said no penetration, he’d had no idea how difficult that might prove to be.

She dropped the garment on top of his head in a brash, sassy move he admired.

Jesus. She was sexy. Her breasts were plumper than he’d thought, and her nipples were large, pink and already erect.

She cupped one of her breasts in her palms, then rubbed a nipple on his face.

“Damn it, Willow.” He’d never experienced jealousy before. He hated it, but there it was, all-consuming, blurring his vision. “You’d better tell me you’ve never done this before.”

“You’re the first.”

“And the fucking last.” He dragged her against him, patience at an end. He laved the swollen nub with his tongue. Her answering moan drove him on. He sucked her flesh into his mouth, increasing the pressure until she dug her hands into his shoulders.

“Yes.” She lowered herself onto his lap, her heat against his crotch.

“Rub out an orgasm.” He pinched her free nipple while he continued to torment the first. One of these days, he’d attach half a dozen clips to each of her breasts and take great pleasure in flicking them off.

An innocent seductress with no idea how powerful she was, she moved against him, moaning, then whimpering when he sucked harder.

When he sensed she was close, he switched to her other breast and squeezed the damp one hard between his thumb and forefinger.

“Oh, Jax…”

His cock surged in response to her plaintive sigh, giving her something even harder to grind against. Even through her thong and his slacks, he felt her heat. She was exquisite.

Her motions grew more frantic and he responded, pinching and sucking harder.

Less than a minute later, she tipped her head back, hair falling in wild abandon as she screamed. He’d been with plenty of women before, but none as unselfconscious as her.

He gentled the pressure on her nipples by degrees so that the blood didn’t rush back with a painful wave. There’d be plenty of time to torment her later.

She collapsed against him and dropped her head onto his shoulder. He held her, stroked her back, and told her, “You’re perfect.” Jax always provided aftercare for women he scened with, but he’d never enjoyed it this much.

When she finally roused, she flattened her palm on his chest and pushed herself back. She wore a self-satisfied smile. “You are cocky.”

“But?”

“Maybe you have reason to be.”

“Maybe?” He circled her tiny wrist with his fingers and returned her grin. “Challenge accepted.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

“You’re bewitching.” He dug his free hand into her hair to pull back her head so that she read the hungry intent in his eyes. Jax had never been hotter for a woman. “Time for your first spanking.”

* * *

First? A tremor rocked through Willow, feeding desire. Discovering impact play had liberated her in a way nothing else had. At school, at her parents’ home, expectations were heaped on her. But once she entered a dungeon, she unleashed her inhibitions. She asked for what she wanted and savored each moment. She refused to allow Jax’s threat to unburden his soul and admit he’d despoiled Brian Henderson’s daughter to ruin her evening. Right now, she craved her temporary Dom’s touch.

When he drove away Stefan, she’d been pissed. But her breasts ached in a way they never had before. Other Doms were competent and had given her what she asked for, yet Jax had taken the time to notice what she liked in someone else’s scene and give her a taste of that. That he’d given her an orgasm before they’d really started made any future consequences worth it.

“We’ll start with my hand first, princess. You’re going to like it.” His voice was roughened with certainty. “Ask for it.”

“Please, Jax.” Since his hand was still in her hair and he held her wrist firmly, she had recognized his strength. “Spank me.”

His eyes flared.

He released her hair and wrist. Within seconds, she was over his lap, breath whooshing from her lungs. She touched her fingers to the smooth wood as anticipation unfurled. He stroked her thighs and buttocks in a warm-up that she’d be fine with skipping.

His first few smacks were gentle, and she shifted restlessly, rising onto her toes and all but putting her buttocks into his hands.

He chuckled. “I told you, I’m in charge.”

The next smack blazed. She went rigid. It damn well hurt. And she exhaled in relief now that he’d established his dominance.

“My speed, princess.”

“Yes, yes. Your speed, Jax.”

Point made, he continued the spanking in a rhythmic, ritualistic way. He covered her skin with kisses of pain, rubbing some away and choosing to exploit others.

Once her brain acknowledged he was trustworthy, she closed her eyes in surrender.

The spanking was the best of her life. He went on forever, making her cry out but also sigh with satisfaction.

Her mind flew. Worries and stress floated away, as if wrapped in gossamer strands.

She wasn’t even aware that he’d stopped until his voice penetrated her haze.

“Come back, Willow.” He snapped his fingers near her ear, and she shook her head to clear the pink fuzz coating her brain.

After helping her to sit up, he cradled her against him. “You entered subspace?” he asked, tucking wild strands of hair behind her ear.

“I…” She tried to hold up her head but it lolled onto his shoulder. “Uhm.” She giggled.

“Just from that?”

“It doesn’t happen all the time.” She drew in a lazy breath filled with his sexy scent. It might be reckless, but she didn’t want to ever move. “I like it when it does.”

“That can be dangerous with the wrong Dom. You could get seriously hurt, Willow. I won’t permit it.”

Her ass was sore, but in a wonderful way. Because of the way he’d warmed her up, she wouldn’t bruise, even though she wished he’d left marks she could admire for the next few days.

“Are you listening to me?” His tone was a whiplash, forcing her to look at him.

“What?”

With much more patience, he repeated himself. “Subspace can be dangerous if you’re with the wrong Dom.”

“But I’m with the right one.”

Jesus. “You’ll be the death of me, princess.”

She smiled and relaxed against him, enjoying his struggle. It might not be nice of her, but she liked knowing she frustrated the cocky billionaire.

Within a few minutes, the objects in the room came into focus. She took a deep breath and sat up, instantly regretting the loss of his comfort and body heat. She could have stayed snuggled against him forever. “That was nice.”

“Is that all it was?”

“No! I mean that’s good, right?”

“Do you know your name?”

“What?” She frowned at him. “Of course.”

“Then I haven’t done my job satisfactorily. Please go to the table and unpack my bag.”

Intrigued, she scampered off his lap to unzip his bag. She pulled out sanitizing wipes, a bottle of water, cuffs, clamps, a gag that he’d promised not to use on her, a blindfold, a half dozen clothespins, the Wartenberg wheel he’d mentioned. She knew he was the Dom for her when she pulled out several different paddles, one that looked as if it had been used for ping-pong, another that was wooden with terrifying holes drilled in it. Unable to help herself, she stuck her fingers through a couple of the small round openings.

“I guessed you would like that one.”

“It looks evil.”

“Which is exactly why I assumed you’d be drawn to it.”

She continued on, laying out each item with precise spacing. By the time she was finished, she’d removed another paddle, along with a tawse, a small flogger, and a dragon’s tail.

“How brave are you?”

Willow’s glance went to the vicious paddle. She was desperate to play with all of his toys. One night wouldn’t be enough. Her thoughts reeled when she realized that meant she wanted to see him again.

“Bring it to me.”

She picked it up by the handle and carried it in her upturned palms.

“Thank you.”

The note of approval in his voice as he accepted the offering heated her insides.

“Do you need me to tie you to the bench?”

“No. I give myself over to my Dom. It’s never been a struggle for me to remain in place. But if it’s something that turns you on, it’s not a limit for me.”

“Another time, perhaps.”

Her breath froze. His casual mention of a future meant his thoughts mirrored hers. She didn’t dare voice how much she hoped that came true. Maybe it meant he’d leave her dad out of it.

“Please bend over the bench.”

Once she was in position, he asked, “Do I have your permission to touch you over your panties?”

“I thought you wanted me naked.”

“A change of heart.”

Frowning, she lifted her head to look back over her shoulder.

A small smile toyed with his lips. “Safer for both of us.”

Once again he warmed her up before picking up the paddle. Willow closed her eyes and exhaled, pushing away all stray thoughts so she could focus on the heady mix of pleasure and pain.

He worked his way up and down each thigh and covered each buttock with light taps, and even those were worse than most of the leather paddles she’d experienced. He started over, repeating his pattern but with a few random, unexpected strikes.

She was breathless when he grabbed her panties and yanked them higher, wedging them in her pussy. The sensation was so abrasive she nearly came.

“You’re wet.”

There was no need to answer.

He rubbed her clit and his touch couldn’t have seared more if he’d touched her bare skin.

She pushed back, silently begging for more. Instead of giving it to her, Jax moved his hand to the middle of her back. He kept a physical connection between them as he blazed her skin. The wood whistled through the air with each strike. Her whimpers turned to sobs from the force of the release he gave her.

When it was over, he helped her to stand. Her knees wobbled, and she grabbed his forearm for support. She caught sight of them in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were wide, and tears streaked her face. Her ass was red, and a few of the lines promised to linger.

Then their gazes met. He looked at her with possession and hunger in his narrowed eyes. “No man but me will ever do this to you.”

“Jax,” she whispered, turning to him, only him. “I need you to make love to me.”