Chapter Four
Quinton caught Cassia in his arms as she nearly crumpled to the ground. Part of him had expected this, so he’d been prepared to move when she finally broke.
Wetness be damned, he carried her to the leather sofa where they’d sat earlier, settled them into a corner of it, and pulled a blanket to wrap around her. Given how high he’d taken her, it wouldn’t have been surprising for any submissive to achieve the kind of intense subspace that could lead to a marked emotional release like this. But he’d suspected that Cassia’s trauma might make those reactions even more intense.
Which just meant he’d need to be there for her every step of the way.
Exactly what he planned to do.
Holding her against his chest, Quinton eased the lace blindfolds from her head and stroked her hair. Finally, her tears quieted to sniffles and occasional shudders.
“Wow,” she finally managed, peering up at him with eyes so bright they were almost green. “I’m sorry for losing it.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. Just rest, Cassia,” he said. “Let your mind shut down if you need to. I’ve got you. And I don’t have anywhere else I need to be other than right here with you.” He always felt that way towards the submissives who gifted him with their service. It was his duty to provide aftercare for them. And with Cassia, it felt especially important, because he knew she was struggling with something bigger and deeper than most.
She reached up and gently, softly stroked the side of his face. “Sweet man,” she said in a sleepy voice. Her eyelids sagged shut.
He didn’t know if it was the satisfaction of having given her pleasure, the ease reflected in her gaze and her body, or those words, but, sitting there with this warm, sated woman in his lap, Quinton felt ten fucking feet tall. And he was overcome with a sudden yearning. For someone who’d make him feel that way all the time. Not just like a Dominant, but like someone’s Master.
The distinction wasn’t one that he’d given that much thought to during his years in the lifestyle. That is, not until his two closest friends at Blasphemy had collared submissives of their own over the past couple of months. First, Kyler Vance, the proud commitment-phobe, had collared Mia Breslin, despite the fact that she’d turned out to be his boss’s daughter, something that had almost ended them before they’d even started. And then Griffin got the second chance he’d always wanted but never dared hope for with Kenna.
On some level, Quinton was aware he held a piece of himself back. And he didn’t need a shrink to know why. Growing up, he’d had a front-row seat to a grade-A dysfunctional marriage. He’d seen the fighting and the apathy, and how two adults could lead separate lives even though they’d lived in the same house. From one particularly nasty fight before they’d divorced, his mother’s words still sometimes rang in Quinton’s ears: I never should’ve settled for less than everything. He’d expected his father to yell something mean in return, but what he’d heard instead left a bigger impression: No, you shoudn’t have. And neither should I. His dad had moved out the next day.
So Quinton wanted the real thing. He wanted the everything. And he’d never been entirely sure it existed.
But Kyler thought he’d founded it, and so did Griffin.
Quinton peered down at Cassia, his thoughts a mess of wants. After a while, his gaze locked onto the scar on her face. They should’ve been together just as she’d been suffering that injury. That she’d gotten hurt wasn’t his fault, and there wasn’t a thing he could’ve done to stop the accident from happening, but that didn’t change the odd niggle of guilt he felt. At the very least, he could’ve checked in, followed up, helped her sooner.
Coulda, woulda, shoulda.
Even though it made no sense, he had the oddest thought: Next time, I’ll be there to protect her. Except that wasn’t their deal here, was it?
On a stretch, Cassia’s eyelids fluttered open, distracting him from examining the strange impulse any further.
“Hi,” she said, a sleepy, warm smile shaping her beautiful face.
“Hi, yourself.”
“Was I out long?” she asked, just a hint of self-consciousness in her expression.
He shook his head, wanting more than anything to have her at ease around him. Always. Why did she make him feel that way? Was it a desire to make up for what he hadn’t done before? He didn’t know. “Not too long. How do you feel?”
She hesitated for a moment, and he could see that she was really reflecting on the question rather than giving the rote fine that so many people might’ve. He appreciated that. “I feel…good. A little tired. But, also kinda energized from…everything.” Pink filtered into her cheeks.
“Everything being the seven orgasms?” He arched a brow.
The laughter that spilled out of her lit him up inside. “Pretty much,” she said. “But it was more than that, too. I mean, don’t get me wrong. That was amazing.” They both chuckled. “But for the hour I was with you, I didn’t think…of everything that happened. I was just…me. The old Cass.” A sheen of glassiness made her eyes sparkle as she peered up at him.
The old Cass. He liked the sound of that, for her. He tucked a strand of rich brown hair behind her ear. “I’m glad.” Quinton didn’t want this to end tonight. Not yet. And then he thought of something fun that would keep it from having to. “I’ve got an idea and I want you to say yes.”
Her eyebrow arched over a confused expression. “Uh, okay. Is it…are you ordering me to say yes? Sir?”
Quinton grinned. “Not unless you want me to.” Really, he wanted her to say yes because she wanted to.
Cassia bit her lip. “Well, I think we both know that I like when you order me around.”
“I’ll never get tired of hearing you admit that,” he said, smirking.
She laughed. “So what’s your idea?”
“Get dressed and come dancing with me,” he said. “Here, at Blasphemy.”
Putting her finger to her lips, she affected an I’m thinking about it smile. “Hmm. Let’s see…that’s a yes.”
Satisfaction tore through his gut. “There’s a catch, though.”
“Which is?”
He held up the double layer of black lace she’d worn before. “I want you to wear these while you’re doing it.”
* * *
Cassia stood with Master Quinton in the shadows at the edge of the dance floor. Her gaze ran over the stage where they sometimes did demonstrations, the soaring vaulted ceiling, and the moving, swaying bodies clad in every variety of play wear—leather, lace, PVC, and more.
Finally, she forced herself to meet the Dom’s dark, searching gaze. Nerves made it hard to do. Why it should feel any different now to wear the blindfolds, Cassia didn’t know. Without the distractions created by him tormenting her body, would she be able to tolerate the way the lace obscured her vision? And if she couldn’t tolerate it, would she freak out in the middle of the dance floor? In front of all these people? “You’re thinking too much again,” Master Quinton said.
She couldn’t even deny it. “I know, Sir.”
“Unless I tell you otherwise, you can drop the Sir when we’re not in scene. I’ve never been a stickler for the protocol. How’s that sound?”
That sounded…good, easier. Part of her yearned for the service and satisfaction of being a submissive, but right now, she felt a little overloaded. From what they’d done and the newness of being back in the lifestyle after so long away. So his offer felt like it relieved a pressure valve inside her. And, damn, she really appreciated that, appreciated that he seemed—once again—to know what it was she might need. “I like that, thank you.”
He nodded and gave her a crooked grin, and then he stepped in close. So close that she could feel his heat. Since she’d literally slept up against all that heat, maybe feeling it now shouldn’t have been so startling, so appealing, but it was. Because she knew just how good it felt. “Now, tilt your head back.”
She did, and her hair fell away from her face. He slipped the blindfolds over her head. Taking a deep breath, Cassia peered around her. Colored and white lights flashed through the lace, which in a strange way highlighted the darkness around the flashes. The blindfolds also brought to life her other senses. Against the louder backdrop of the music, she heard voices—talking, laughing, cries of ecstasy from somewhere in the distance. The bass beat echoed up through the floor so that she felt it in her body. The heat of the spotlights passed over her.
Master Quinton’s big hands settled on her shoulders, and he leaned in. “Doing okay?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Was just…making sure.”
“Me, too,” he said. He took her hand, his grip big and firm around hers. “Come on.”
The music shifted just as they made their way into the center of the tight, pulsing crowd. The song had an intense, driving beat that drew more people to the floor. Cassia grinned as the press pushed them closer together. She gave herself over to the energy and the music and the heat radiating from a hundred other bodies. And just danced.
And so did Master Quinton. Trying to watch him move made her suddenly glad for the blindfolds. She might not be able to see details, but he couldn’t see her watching him, studying him, admiring the way his hips moved and enjoying the smile that communicated the comfort he had in his own skin.
Not to mention, from what she could make out, the man moved like a freaking dream. Like, you could just look at him on a dance floor and think, yup, that man has to be good in bed. Which had her wishing at least a little that things had gone further between them tonight, even though a big part of her was grateful that he’d only taken it as far as he had. She’d really appreciated that he’d made the scene sexy and satisfying and intense, even when it was also about moving them toward a specific goal—making her more comfortable in the dark.
That she also liked Master Quinton was just icing on the cake.
He moved in closer and pressed his lips to her ear. “Tell me something about you, Cassia.” Grasping her hand, he spun her and settled her back to his front.
Which made it damn hard to think. Especially when he gripped her hips and moved them together. Especially when all his hardness rubbed against her ass and his breath fell on her neck, along with a trail of soft, teasing kisses.
“Tell me something,” he said again.
Forcing herself to think through the haze he cast over her mind and body, Cassia debated. What could she tell him that he didn’t already know? Once, she’d considered herself adventurous and daring, but she couldn’t help but think that the cave-in had changed all that. Maybe forever. Before tonight, the best she’d felt since the accident was when she’d…
There. That was something.
Turning enough so that he’d have a chance of hearing her, she said, “I like to ride motorcycles.”
“No shit?” he said, appreciation plain in his voice. “Do you own one?”
She shook her head. “My brother does. He’s in a club in Frederick. I ride one of his whenever I visit him.”
“I’m more of a fast car guy, but bikes are pretty badass, too,” he said.
Cassia turned in Quinton’s arms, excitement bubbling inside her. “Then you would totally love my brother. He runs the Green Valley Race Track. Have you ever heard of it? Stock-car races, demolition derbies, that kind of thing?”
“Heard of it? Girl, I’ve been there many times. I freaking love racing.”
Grinning, Cassia nodded and leaned in so Quinton could hear her. “Then you know my big bro’s track. Well, it’s his club’s place, but he manages everything about it. The races are a blast.” And Jagger loved running the track, too, almost as much as he loved being a part of the Raven Riders club that owned it. Cassia used to go up there all the time for the weekend races, but she hadn’t gone as frequently since everything happened. Which made her suddenly miss him.
“Damn, that rocks,” Quinton said, his tone making Cass wish she could see his expression better, because he sounded a lot like a kid learning about a new toy.
And that gave her an idea… “You know, I could take you up there some time. Maybe meet some of the drivers. See the race from the pit. I’m sure Jagger would give you a behind-the-scenes tour. And if we went early enough, we might even be able to get you a turn driving on the track. If you think watching is fun, driving is a total trip.”
Through the mask, Cass could just make out the oval of Quinton’s mouth.
“I mean, of course you don’t have to. I just thought—”
His mouth came down on hers. The kiss was an overwhelming full-body experience. His tongue colliding with hers. His hard muscles pressing close. His hand sliding into her hair.
It was fantastic, even though it ended way too freaking fast.
“When?” he asked, not even trying to hide how excited he was.
Cassia laughed, dizzy from the lingering heat of the unexpected kiss and delighted at Quinton’s enthusiasm. “I’ll call him and see when would work best.”
“You’d do that?” he asked. “Because that would be fucking awesome.”
Still smiling, she was already thinking of what she would say to Jagger—about the visit, the favor, and the man she’d be bringing along. On the surface, her brother seemed easy-going and laid back. And he mostly was. But he still had a protective streak a mile wide. And Cassia hadn’t brought anyone around for a long time.
Even though she was already determined to make this happen, she couldn’t help but have a little fun with Master Quinton. “Hmm. I think I’d be willing. I mean, maybe I could use a little encouragement, though.”
His grip in her hair tightened. “Could you now?” he asked, his voice dropping. The music shifted gears, slowing down into something sensual and gritty, the lyrics full of dirty innuendo. “And what kind of encouragement might you need?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, her breath catching as Master Quinton hauled her closer, close enough that she could feel, against her belly, that his cock had hardened. And that thrilled her, the knowledge that she aroused him. Sexy and powerful weren’t things she’d felt in a long time, but as his hard-on bumped and grinded against her, she felt both. And, damn, that was something after everything she’d been through.
“I do,” he said, his mouth at her ear again. And then his fingers tugged at the lace around her eyes. She was almost sad that he was removing it, except then it got darker.
Cassia gasped. He hadn’t removed the lace, he’d folded it, doubling its thickness, and nearly obscuring the light altogether. She clutched at his thick biceps.
“Hold on to me. Just like that,” he said, his arms coming around her, one hand palming the center of her back, the other settling on the swell of her ass.
Competing reactions exploded inside her. Anxiety, fear, and panic threatened. Those she expected. But there was also anticipation, desire, and excitement, too. It was an overwhelming, disorienting cocktail.
“Where are you, Cass?” he asked.
“Um…” She swallowed, hard. “Yellow, Sir,” she said, feeling weak at the admission.
He kissed her, soft and sweet and approving. “Good girl,” he said. “Always want you to be honest with me. If it’s too much, squeeze my shoulders three times. Otherwise, no talking.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, knowing that they’d just slipped into a scene without him having to tell her. And that helped tip the scales toward the more positive reactions he’d unleashed. Because her body was a live wire waiting to see what he had in store for her. Why had she teased him again?
Words rumbled into her ear. “There’s a couple right behind you. Almost touching you. The man is dancing behind the woman, and he’s pulled up her skirt.” Cassia’s heart tripped into a sprint. Master Quinton squeezed her ass with one big hand as they danced, his body tight against hers. Other bodies bumped against them, too, against her elbow, her heel, her hip. “She was naked beneath,” he continued, “and her pussy is bare. The man is teasing her, rubbing his fingers over her lips without really hitting her clit. The look on her face is pure torture.”
Each word painted a new stroke of color against the blackness of her eyelids—and over all the most sensitive places of her body. Her nipples. Her neck. Her clit. Cassia shivered as the image Quinton described came to life in her mind’s eye.
Slowly, Master Quinton dragged his tongue up the column of Cass’s neck, adding to her own torment. And then his lips were at her ear again. “He’s fingering her now. Forcing her to keep dancing while he does it.” He swallowed thickly. “Aw, fuck, Cass, he’s making her suck her own wetness off his fingers. Off his dripping wet fingers.”
Cassia moaned at the vivid picture she now had, and at the rough arousal in her Dom’s voice. His lust stoked her own, made her wish that they were the ones doing what he described.
Quinton licked the shell of her ear, unleashing goosebumps all down her neck and shoulders. “He’s taking his cock out now. Lining it up between her legs… Oh, yeah, he just slid into her from behind. Right here on the dance floor.”
A whimper spilled from Cassia as heat roared over her body. Suddenly, she could barely stand the thin fabric of her dress against her skin.
“Mmm, like that idea, do you?” Quinton said, his dirty words a secret the music helped them keep. “Looks like she does too, the way her Dom is taking her right here in the middle of all these people, all of them watching her, touching her. Can you see it, Cassia? Can you see him fucking her?”
She gave a fast nod, almost forgetting not to speak. But, God, she wanted to. She wanted to beg.
For Quinton. For his touch and his tongue and his cock.
“Yeah, I know you can. You can see his fat cock sliding deep. I bet you can even feel it.”
Jesus, she was going to come. She was going to come from his words alone.
On some level, she knew what he was doing. And she freaking adored him for it, for the way he’d put light in the darkness with just his voice. But she was too invested in the story to think about it. She needed more. She needed it all.
The music changed again, faster now, and intense. Master Quinton’s hands roamed until both of them cupped her ass. He squeezed and lifted, his actions reverberating between her legs. Making her want to grind. Making her need to.
She was almost ready to plead for him to continue when more rough words spilled into her ear again. “The man…he invited others to touch the woman while he fucks her. A male sub just knelt on the floor, and he’s eating her right there in the middle of everyone, tonguing and sucking and licking at the wetness the man’s cock draws out. God, Cassia, can you imagine what that would be like?”
The sound she made was almost pained. Because she could. God help her, she could imagine what it would be like to be impaled on Quinton’s cock while another man devoured her clit. Wetness slicked the tops of her thighs around the thin thong she’d worn.
“Yeah, I knew you could,” Quinton said. “Fuck, I bet you’d come so hard.”
“Master Quinton,” she moaned, breaking.
He gave her a hard swat on the roundest part of her ass. “Quiet, little sub. We’re not talking right now. We’re watching this couple next to us fuck. And, damn, he’s fucking her so good, Cassia. She’s so damn wet.”
Cass rubbed her thighs together as they moved, absolutely desperate now.
“I think she’s gonna come,” he said, his breath hot against her ear. “And if you can get there, just from this, you can too.” He shifted her so that his leg nudged between hers, just the littlest bit.
It was everything, but it wasn’t nearly enough.
Cassia cried out in her desperation.
“Oh, fuck, Cassia. She’s coming. She’s coming so hard. And her Dom is too. While all these people watch.”
His words had turned her into pure animal need. She was still listening to him. Of course she was. But she was also trying to move her body against him. Starving for even the smallest amount of friction she could find from his thigh, from her own. Jealousy of the other woman’s release seethed through her.
“His come is dripping down her thighs,” Quinton growled. “And he’s showing it off to everyone, how he owns her inside and out.”
Her head spinning from the pleasure drenching his voice, she dug her fingers into his muscles and rocked against him as hard as she could. Her clit bumped his thigh in one single, devastating impact.
Cassia came on a scream that the music swallowed. And then Master Quinton did as well when his mouth sealed over his. He kissed her hard, rough and claiming and domineering.
And even though the orgasm eased the worst of the greedy, red-hot lust flooding through her, it wasn’t enough. She needed more. She needed to be the one impaled on his fat cock, coming on it, taking everything he had to give.
She was just barely aware of the music changing again, this time into a lighter techno dance song with a fast beat.
Master Quinton pulled his lips from hers. “Thank you for dancing with me, Cassia.”
Did he imagine she was capable of speech just then? She licked her lips and nodded. “Thank you, Sir,” she managed, her voice a raw scrape.
Hand in hand, he guided them off the dance floor. Her mind and body were still reeling as she followed him on unsteady legs. Because he’d not only rocked her world with the power of his voice, but every bit of the anxiety she’d felt when he’d first doubled her blindfold was now entirely gone. She wasn’t even sure if the couple he’d described actually existed, but that had never been the point, had it? He made them exist in her mind, and in doing so, fought her fear.
It shook the ground beneath her feet, because that…that was power.
After everything she’d been through and everything she’d tried, she knew it was. Which made her wonder: how long was this no-strings-arrangement going to last? Because some part of her already regretted that it might end. It was probably a ridiculous thought after just one night, and no doubt it was just her banked lust talking.
Finally, Master Quinton guided her to sit and removed the blindfolds. “How are you?”
Her gaze raked over him. His hair was a little damp with sweat. His face was flushed. His eyes, dark fire.
And even sitting down, there was no denying that his cock was rock fucking hard. The bulge filling out the front of his jeans was pronounced.
“I asked you a question, Cassia.”
Her gaze cut back to his, and she was so busted. “I’m…good, Sir. Kinda shell-shocked. And still really freaking horny.”
He grinned and nailed her with a stare. “Good. You’re not to have any orgasms until we meet again.”
She gaped, then pretended to look at the watch she wasn’t wearing on her wrist. “I’m free in five minutes. You?”
Master Quinton burst into a big belly laugh that might’ve made her laugh, too, if she hadn’t been so serious. But she was. The orgasm she’d just managed to have from that brush against his thigh hadn’t nearly satisfied the deep burn she had inside.
“You’re going to be a lot of fun, Cass,” he said, with a smugness she kinda wanted to hate but couldn’t because it was too hot and playful. “How about Tuesday night?”