Chapter Two
HOLY CRAP.
This was really happening.
Scarlett tried not to shake as she followed him through the writhing crowd on the dance floor, down the long hallway, and deeper into Blasphemy. The thrum of the music and chatter dimmed, until just the teasing flick of a whip drifted from various doors, along with low groans and grunts sounding like both pain and pleasure.
Excitement flicked her nerve endings. Already, the anticipation of what could happen tightened her nipples and gave her that roller coaster feeling in her tummy. All those years of trying to ignore her darker desires sprang up and practically screamed for release. She was going to have sex with a stranger tonight. A stranger who’d bring her to orgasm by doing things to her she’d only dreamed about. A stranger hidden behind a simple black mask, but who burned with an inner fire that both aroused and terrified her.
She kept her gaze demurely lowered, but his image had already imprinted on her brain. When Hartley had mentioned Jonathan and Cruz wanted her to meet their Navy friend, she’d been hesitant. Her first official sessions at Blasphemy had been disappointing. She’d been hoping to meet a Dom who knew exactly how to arouse her, but the moment she’d gotten naked, those damn negative voices flared. The harder she’d tried to ignore them, the worse they got, and instead of getting wet when he’d put his hands on her, she’d gotten stiffer and more miserable.
The second time, she requested the flogger, hoping that would give her the push needed to get out of her head. She’d liked it, but didn’t achieve anything close to orgasm, so she’d figured maybe it wasn’t for her.
But tonight, she had her mask. She’d finally feel safe enough to push her limits. Her fantasies revolved around submitting to a man she’d never see or hear about again. Since Leo was both experienced and trustworthy, Scarlett figured he’d be perfect to help her. She’d only be in Baltimore for a few more nights before heading to Vegas. This was her last shot to experiment at Blasphemy before she moved.
Though, she had a sinking feeling Leonardo Sinclair would not be a man easily forgotten.
From his sinful black hair, sexy stubble, and rock-hard body, he was a man who ate up the space in a room, and owned it. Simply dressed in black pants and a black t-shirt, he shimmered with trapped, animal like energy. The way he regarded her in utter stillness caused goosebumps to prickle her skin. That hooded, dark gaze traveled every inch of her body, probing her gaze behind his mask with such punch, Scarlett was terrified he already knew every one of her secrets.
Corded arms held intricate tattoos in artistic beauty. She loved tats, but had never dated a man with one. It took discipline not to reach out to trail a finger over the gorgeous designs and ask a dozen questions. Of course, that action would have gotten her punished.
Oh, my, what would it be like to have this man punish her?
When he sat and spoke with her, the warmth of his hands had surprised and comforted her. Though he seemed deliberate with every movement, he was quick to offer touch, which had immediately softened her. How did he seem to know what she needed when they’d only met? Was it because he was a practiced Dom? Or was it this particular man?
The questions danced in her mind with every step toward the play room. Scarlett snuck a quick peek at his tight ass, framed perfectly in those neatly pressed pants. He was easily over six two, and seemed to automatically part the crowds ahead of him like Moses and the Red Sea. He walked like a man who knew exactly what he wanted and had no doubts he’d achieve it. The sheer boldness of his confidence made her immediately wet, until she felt the damp lace of her panties cling to her inner thighs.
God, he hadn’t even touched her yet. She hadn’t been this wet in so long, she feared some of her erogenous parts had been broken. Looks like they only needed a good lube.
She tamped down on the ridiculous thought, fighting back a nervous giggle that was completely foreign to her, and entered the farthest room on the right. She blinked against the sudden darkness, tensing only slightly as he shut the door with a soft click behind her.
Relief flooded through her veins. He’d chosen one of the simplest rooms in the club. There were no hard-core themes, which may make things easier. She’d refused to mark limits with her bands. She’d been locked up for so long in a sexual prison, Scarlett hated to reject anything, even if it scared her. Now she just had to hope her courage didn’t fail.
Her gaze travelled over the giant St. Andrew’s cross and beautiful red cabinet that held an array of floggers, nipple clamps, vibrators, and other toys. The four-poster king size bed was dressed in earth and burgundy tones, with thick blankets and fluffy pillows. The walls were covered in red velvet, wrapping them in a sound proof haven. Somehow, the simplicity lent to an air of intimacy the other more elaborate rooms lacked.
Leo moved in front of her, and she focused on his shiny black shoes.
“You may look up.”
His voice was like gravel mixed with sand—rough, gritty, earthy. She fought a shiver and stared back at him.
“I have an important question.”
She tilted her head, curious. “Yes, Sir?”
“Did you look up at any time during our walk here?”
Crap. She blinked, taking a moment to sift through her options. Then fell back on truth. “Yes, Sir.”
Had his lip twitched slightly or was it her imagination? “Why?”
Her cheeks warmed. “Because I was staring at your ass.”
This time, she caught the curl of his lower lip. “Such a bad girl for disobeying.” He clucked, reaching out to tug her long hair, moving his fingers through the thick strands, rearranging them over her breasts. “Such a good girl for telling me the truth.” Still stroking, he let his hands coast over her straining nipples, brushing lightly against the satin fabric so the delicious sensation streamed through her blood, turning to liquid heat. She tried to keep still, but the teasing rhythm continued until her body arched for more. He murmured under his breath, then those gentle fingers grasped her nipple and twisted. The sudden bite of pain hit, then shimmered into a strange aching pleasure, wringing out a gasp. His voice held a dark satisfaction. “I’ll decide whether to punish or reward you in a bit. For now, take off your clothes.”
He stepped back a few inches and crossed his arms. The sudden distance reminded her he was in charge, and the thought softened her muscles. She just had to obey. If she kept that mantra in mind, she’d do fine.
Lifting her chin, she slowly lowered the straps down off her shoulders and let the blood-red satin fall to her feet. Trying to remain graceful, she bent and scooped up the skimpy slip, folding it neatly. Her red lace thong was brand new. She’d waxed herself clean and indulged in a seaweed wrap so her skin was smooth and polished. Excitement and shame mixed in a heady cocktail, dampening her underwear.
“Beautiful. Now the rest, and hand them both to me.”
Swallowing, reminding herself she was safe behind her mask, Scarlett dragged the thong over her hips and stepped out of it, then handed them over with a trembling hand. He brought the fabric up to his nose and took a deep breath. “You’re very wet.” Her ex would’ve found fault with such arousal but Leo’s dark eyes glinted with satisfaction. “Does this excite you? Standing in front of me naked while I’m still fully dressed?”
She swayed slightly but held his gaze. “Yes.”
“Good. I want you to spread your legs as wide as possible and interlace your fingers behind your head. I’m going to examine you. You can keep your gaze on me.”
She refused to bite her lip in weakness—absolutely refused. It was so damn cliché. Grinding her teeth in determination, she focused on the heat pulsing between her thighs and obeyed. The humiliation of being displayed for his pleasure should have shocked her. Instead, her mind began to fizz pleasantly, softening all those sharp voices and constant assessments that kept her continuously distracted.
He watched her while he closed the distance; his gaze an almost tangible thing as he probed every open part of her, raking from the top of her head to her red painted toes. Lingering on the hard tips of her breasts, down her belly, and to the junction between her thighs, already plump and damp. Scarlett fell into the fantasy, the sense of freedom pulsing in her veins. Finally, she was able to let go. Finally, she—
You have to shop at the fat women’s store. Do you think that’s sexy?
I can’t even get an erection looking at you naked but you’re still blaming me for our lousy sex life.
Suddenly, Peter’s mocking gaze was in front of her. Suddenly, her nakedness wasn’t erotic and beautiful, but something to cover up and be ashamed about. She blinked, trying to shove the image away, her arms shaking with the effort to hold the pose when all she wanted to do was duck and hide. All she saw was her ex’s stare of rejection as he looked over her body. Even hidden behind her mask, she couldn’t escape the shame of rejection. Her initial arousal faded. Nerves overtook that delicious sense of freedom and in that moment, she just wanted to go home.
The firm grasp on her chin yanked her back.
Leo loomed over her, a frown creasing his brow. “What happened, little one? You went somewhere that hurt you.”
Shame washed over her. She’d been wrong. She wasn’t ready for any of this. It was exactly what had happened the last two times. Now, Leo would blame himself for not being able to arouse her. God, she didn’t blame him. How many times had she worked on her self-worth in therapy, beginning to accept who she was –physically and mentally and emotionally—intent on never making apologies again. But the first time she stood naked in the club, her old fears reared up, crippling her. He didn’t want someone with these sort of hang ups, especially for one night.
It took everything she had not to duck her head in humiliation. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
His frown deepened. “For what? Tell me the exact thought you had right now. Don’t think—just tell me.”
“I’m too fat and probably won’t please you.”
Mingled shock and fierce rage blasted from his eyes. His grip tightened on her chin. He leaned forward so his lips were inches from hers. He uttered each word with deliberate softness contradictory to the fierceness of his gaze. “Did you say you were fat?”
“Yes,” she said miserably. She’d failed. The moment she tried to bare herself, the past roared back and crippled her confidence, even behind her mask. All this training and hopefulness leading up to this night dissipated like smoke.
“Who told you that?” he demanded. “Your ex?”
She gave a tiny nod, his fingers still gripping her chin. Scarlett waited for him to back away politely, and allow her to get dressed to leave.
“Are you saying yellow?” He stroked her cheek with such tenderness, she blinked in confusion. “Do you want to leave?”
The truth tumbled up from deep inside, surprising her with its brutal intensity. “I don’t want to feel unwanted.”
A curse blistered from his lips. He lowered his forehead and pressed it against her in a shattering intimate gesture. “God help that asshole if I ever get my hands on him,” he muttered. He cupped her face beneath the edges of the mask, tilting her closer. His breath rushed warm across her lips with the clean scent of mint and the darker scent of whiskey. “Do you know how you made me feel when I first saw you? Like a schoolboy—clumsy and tripping on hormones, desperate to touch you, fuck you, please you.” His lips brushed hers softly, like a whisper. “Your body is pure Eve, lush and full and tempting. You, Scarlett Rose, are sheer perfection and now I’m going to have to punish you so you never forget it.”
His proclamation rung in the air the same time his mouth took hers.
The kiss was brutal. Stripped to the core of animal lust, his tongue pushed into her mouth with no finesse or gentleness, just a need to possess and claim and conquer. He plundered deep, stroking and biting, thrusting and ravaging her mouth, holding her head still so she had no choice to escape. He forced her to take all of him and surrender.
Something deep shifted within her. The kiss was savage but truthful, his fingers bruising her skin, his tongue deep in her mouth, his erection pressed hard against her thigh. In one quick movement, he cupped her ass and lifted her up, grinding her wet pussy onto his dick through the fabric of his pants. Pure need exploded within her and she rocked her hips greedily against him, trying for more, desperate to fill the aching emptiness between her thighs.
“This is what you do to me,” he growled, sinking his teeth into her lower lip, then soothing with his tongue. The delicious taste of him swamped her, dragging her deeper into this wicked world of pleasure. “As your Dom for the evening, you gave your body over to me, and I will not allow you to demean either of us by calling yourself fat.” He worked her over his straining dick, controlling her descent, scraping her clit just enough to keep her right on the edge. Scarlett moaned and wiggled closer, and then he slipped his index finger between her legs and plunged deep.
“You’re so wet and tight. Purely fuckable. I can’t wait to see you come.”
He added another finger, and she began to lose control, his words and touch ripping down the barriers until nothing mattered but getting that orgasm, that damn elusive, gorgeous, looming orgasm that was about to tear her apart. A greedy moan escaped her lips, and he laughed low, curling his fingers deep and hitting the magic spot that gave off shockwaves of delight. His control was absolute, and she sensed no matter how she writhed or begged, her orgasm wouldn’t come until he was good and ready. The knowledge thrilled her, breaking her up inside and emptying her mind completely. Nothing existed but him and what he could give her.
“Tell me right now—how do you feel?”
Her naked breasts bounced up and down as she writhed on his lap. The musky scent of arousal filled the room. Her legs were splayed wide open, and his fingers pumped deep into her pussy as he watched every flicker of expression on her face. Seconds before, she’d thought herself fat and ugly. Now, steeped deep in sensation, she knew this man wanted her on a level she’d never experienced—wanted not only to give her pleasure but to wring it from her body over and over again.
Her drugged eyes locked on his. Her voice came out in a throaty whisper. “I feel beautiful.”
Satisfaction carved out the lines of his face. She had a sudden urge to tug off his mask and memorize the rough, craggy features that could look so fierce yet tender. “That’s right. You are beautiful and fuckable and mine for tonight.”
He plunged three fingers deep inside, stretching her, and when she bucked helplessly, he scraped her swollen clit with his thumb. Once. Twice. God, right there, she was going to come, she was going to—
He set her back down on the ground and stepped away.
Her breath came out in choppy gasps. Her whole body tightened and screamed for release, but she waited, knowing there was more.
A small smile rested on his lips.
“Let’s try this again, shall we? Except this time, with restraints.”
“But—”
His brow shot up. Swallowing back a needy groan, she fell quiet. He nodded his approval, and led her over to the leather wrapped, massive cross. Her belly slowly tumbled as he positioned her in front and began binding her wrists and ankles so she was stretched like a virgin sacrifice. Arms and legs widespread into a V, she tried instinctually to free herself but the cuffs held tight. The thrill of being restrained for anything he wanted to do shuddered through her, making her head feel fizzy.
Leo took his time, testing the space between her skin and the cuffs; double checking the attachments. “How does it feel?”
Exciting. Scary. Freeing. Intoxicating.
Her body felt flushed and alive; swollen and so sensitive, one touch to her clit would set her off. Then she realized he’d been able to quiet the chaos. Right now, she felt powerful and beautiful in her vulnerability of being exposed. Tied up to be used as he saw fit. More comfortable in her skin, the way she used to be before Peter began eroding her self-confidence. How had Leo managed to help her in such a short session?
“Good, Sir,” she finally managed to answer.
“Use your safe word if you need.” His gaze traveled over her naked body with obvious hunger. “Let me explain now what will happen, Scarlett. You will be punished twice. One, for insulting your body—which belongs to me. Second, for not calling me Sir. I’ll keep the first one easy. All you have to do is not come. Do you understand?”
Her wobbly knees gave out, but the cross held her upright. Not come? When her entire body was screaming for release? When just a touch may set her off like a rocket?
But he was dead serious. She’d heard of Doms not allowing orgasms—but could she do it?
Yes. Because she had to. She couldn’t fail. Scarlett stiffened her spine and her resolve. Her brain locked on the command given to her. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Eyes on me the whole time.”
She gulped in a deep breath, tried to lock her body into position, and swore to obey.