Just as she needed.
She’d manipulate him and test him. Hoping he’d succeed and fail in equal measures. And, although sometimes she’d hate it, Ethan had no intention of failing.
Still, she made no move to comply and he took it as her first true test of his dominance. This didn’t feel like the confusion that had her tied up in knots. She darted a glance out the corner of her eye and squared her shoulders before her lips curved into a small smile.
Oh, she needed proof.
And he’d be giving it to her. He stroked her hair, combing through the silky black strands until her muscles relaxed. The second the tension left her, he fisted it at the nape of her neck and yanked back, twisting as he pulled so she’d feel the sharp tug and prickles of pain in her skull.
She let out a startled yelp, hands digging into his thighs as she struggled for balance.
He held her fast and bent down to the shell of her ear. Lowered his tone to his best hard-ass, don’t-fuck-with-me voice. “Obey or go home. What I’m asking for is easy. But since you continue to defy me, I’m going to make it harder. Now the other leg has to go up too. You’re going to sit on my lap, skirt hiked up, legs wide apart just like I promised.” He knew with the spotlight Caleb and his sub really couldn’t see them, but
Violet wouldn’t be thinking about that right now. All she’d be able to think about was how exposed and vulnerable she felt. “Do what I say. Or don’t, and we’ll call it a night and I’ll take you home. You have thirty seconds to decide. Your choice.” He let go and sat back.
Her jaw set, her spine stiffened, but she couldn’t hide her reactions. Breath fast, her skin pink, he’d bet her nipples were hard and her cunt wet.
He looked at his watch.
Up front, Caleb had rebuttoned his pants and now kneeled on the floor, scissors in hand, cutting off the fabric of the conservative navy skirt. Naked, the sub’s chest heaved.
“Spread those legs like a good little slut.” Caleb’s voice boomed.
Violet took in a sharp intake of breath. The cords of her neck worked as she swallowed.
Ethan grinned. Obviously his friend had heard enough of his conversation to mirror the command. Of course, unlike Violet, the sub complied without hesitation.
Caleb reached between her legs and stroked her clit. Her head fell back and she moaned. He sank his fingers inside her, rotating his hand, grinding the heel of his palm against her pelvic bone. “Is your cunt wet for your Master?”
“Oh yes, Master. Please…” Her hips rocked, trying to deepen the contact. “Please what?” He thrust hard into her, almost brutal in his force.
Violet squirmed, her breath coming in a fast rhythm that matched the woman kneeling on the floor.
“Please, Master, may I come?”
“No.” But instead of backing off, Caleb increased his motions, thumb working her clit. Making it impossible for the woman to comply with his command.
Violet sat frozen against him.
“Master,” the sub gasped. “Please, I’m going to come.”
“Do and you’ll be punished.” Then the sadistic bastard latched on to her nipple, working her over from every angle.
The sub cried out. The chains that bound her wrists shook as she struggled in a futile attempt to maintain control over her response.
Violet’s breath turned ragged, gaze transfixed on the stage in front of her. Ethan said in her ear, “Time’s up. Let’s go home.”
She jerked against him. “No!” “Then do what you’re told.”
Her expression remained on the couple in front of her, the woman kneeling in chains, moaning loud, begging for permission that Caleb continued to deny.
Violet sucked in air then pressed her ass against him as she lifted one leg and draped it over his thigh. He stifled the groan as she shifted against his erection. God, he’d never been this hard in his life.
“Good girl, now the other one.”
Almost in a trance, she did as he asked. The hem of her dress hiked far up her legs but she tugged until she was covered.
He ran his hands over her taut thighs.
Up at the front of the room, the sub cried out as she broke and a fierce orgasm shuddered through her small frame. Caleb didn’t stop, using his fingers and mouth until she went slack against her restraints.
Against Ethan, Violet didn’t even breathe.
Caleb stood abruptly. “Now for your punishment.”
Violet blinked as the big man stepped once again into the shadows. Her head swam. She didn’t know what to think about first. The brutal way the huge blond man made the woman come? How he intended to punish her for her body’s natural response? One that he provoked?
Would Ethan be like that?
Her legs were spread so wide the beginning of a burn seeped into her muscles. Ethan stroked her thighs, slow and unhurried. God, she was so open. So exposed. The cool air brushed over her damp flesh. Her skin tingled as if she had heat stroke. She’d never dreamed she’d respond like this. Embarrassment threaded through the heavy blanket of desire as she felt a trickle of liquid slide down the curve of her ass.
The man, Caleb, once again stepped into the dim light, bullwhip back in hand.
Unable to help herself, she flinched.
Ethan’s calm breath soothed her overstimulated nerves. “Relax, Violet. Concentrate on the touch of my fingers. Trust me, she’ll come to no harm.”
She licked her lips. “He did that on purpose.” “He did.”
“B-but that’s not fair,” she protested, feeling the panic well hard and fast within her. “He doesn’t need to be fair. He’s the Master, he makes the rules.”
The fine thread she had on her control frayed a bit more. Ethan’s fingers played at the juncture of her inner thigh. Her body quivered.
“I’m going to touch you now, sugar.” He practically purred the words into her ear. Her muscles tensed.
At the same moment Caleb said, “Chin to the floor.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, the girl leaned down and placed her head against the floor. Caleb circled around her, standing by her feet.
Higher and higher Ethan’s hand drifted up her thigh, a slow, deliberate path. She didn’t dare breathe. His fingers stroked the skin in the crease of her leg. She jumped. Oh god, he was going to touch her. His thumb brushed her clit. Sensation jolted through her. She squeaked.
He chuckled, the sound almost lazy. “If you’re this nervous about a tiny little touch, you’re going to be in for a big surprise.”
Caleb paced back, stopped, waited. On the floor, the girl’s spine bowed as if in offering. “Stay still,” he barked.
“Yes, Master.”
The room closed in on Violet. It was all too much. These were things she’d read about, but the reality, all the stimulation, it made her head swim.
“Relax, Violet.” Voice smooth, like aged scotch sliding over ice.
She couldn’t relax. Every muscle coiled tight. A dull ache crept up her spine as she fought to keep her posture upright. All she wanted to do was melt into him. But she couldn’t. Something hard and unyielding stopped her. Again he feathered his fingers along her pussy with the briefest of contact. Her nerve endings exploded with an almost overwhelming pleasure.
From one little touch. It scared her. Terrified her. She shrank back.
The whip in Caleb’s hands sliced through the air, the tip fell across the pale skin of the woman’s back. A second later a red welt formed on her delicate flesh.
No way. She could never do that. Her pulse pounded so loud she could hear it in her ears. Never. No man would mark her, whip her. Not even Ethan.
“You’re wet, soaking.” Ethan’s voice, sounding distant, still jerked her out of her thoughts. “Your body wants this even with your mind fighting.”
She snapped her head to look at him. She let her legs fall from his and yanked her skirt down below her knees. Her arms crossed over her chest, ensuring the draping fabric remained firmly in place.
Dangerous. Lethal. His blue eyes glittered with hunger and raw power. Panic crawled over her skin. He watched her. Studied. Knowing. Her heart raced, beating so hard she was sure it would slam out of her ribs.
The sound of the whip broke through the room, cracking along the air that seemed to sizzle with all the heat in the room. Violet didn’t need to look know another red mark would mar the woman’s skin. She inhaled deeply. The scent of sex assailed her, made
her dizzy. The inner walls of her pussy rippled, as if asking to be filled. Another trickle slid down her thigh. She shouldn’t like this. It was wrong.
Ethan ran a thumb over her mouth. “Look at her face, Violet. She’s not in pain.”
Slowly she turned to look at the woman on the floor. What she saw frightened her more than if the sub had been in agony.
Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, her eyes closed. Her lids were relaxed, not shut tight like Violet’s would have been. The girl’s lips were parted as though on a sigh. She looked… Violet struggled to form the work in her mind…at peace. Almost rapturous. Beautiful.
Her heart clutched as if it were being squeezed like a fist. She turned back to face Ethan.
He studied her closely, his hand resting lightly at the curve of her hip.
Her mind went blank. Nothing. No thought filtered through. Just overwhelming feeling. She opened her mouth, not knowing what to say. “I want to go home now.” Was that flat monotone hers?
His blue eyes narrowed as though he were trying to peer inside her and read her soul. She flinched. She couldn’t let him see what was in her heart.
The need. The hunger. The fear that she desired to be just like the girl on the floor. It couldn’t be right. To want like this was wrong.
She steeled her spine, ready to fight to get the hell out of there.
What was she doing? She didn’t need Ethan’s permission. She frowned. So why the hell was she sitting here, waiting for it?
The knowledge struck her like a blow.
He was training her. Worse yet, she liked it.
His fingers slid up her bare spine and she was unable to help the shiver of response that danced over her skin. Her body craved him. Wanted him with an unnatural desperateness.
Another loud crack sounded along the air.
Get out. Now.
She couldn’t look, closed her eyes. She didn’t want to be a part of this. It wasn’t her. She was a nice girl. She’d been reared in a nice, safe Chicago suburb in a nice, safe family. She didn’t belong with this leather crowd, in a dungeon, watching young women get whipped.
Ethan zipped up the back of her dress and she sagged in relief. Thank god. She’d been sure he’d refuse.
“Stop for a minute, please.” Ethan’s loud tone practically vibrated the walls. Eyes still closed, Violet felt the world still to silence. Not even a flicker.
It hit her then. Her throat closed over as she fought the tears that threatened. They were all there for her. This show was for her. It had nothing to do with the woman lying on the floor. Ethan had given her a taste of submission and all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and weep.
She dropped her head into her hands.
Ethan scooped her up and placed her on the couch next to him. “Give me a minute and I’ll take you home.”
She didn’t look up as the warmth of his body left her. Cold seeped through her bones, chilling her blood. She shuddered. What was happening to her?
She lifted her head only to see Ethan talking to Caleb up front. Both men glanced in her direction with twin expressions of concern curving the corners of their mouths down.
How funny. She’d always thought Ethan had quiet, unassuming looks. But he didn’t look out of place at all standing next to the huge blond man with the face of an angel.
She shifted her attention to the floor at the men’s feet. She sucked in a breath. The girl was gone. Where was she?
Violet started to shake. She needed air. Needed space to breathe. She glanced wildly around the room. Spotted the door.
Ran.
“She’s getting away.” Caleb pointed toward the door.
The door closed behind Violet.
Fuck!
Ethan jerked his head in a sharp nod. “Later.” He took off in a run. The door practically flew off the hinges as he shoved it open.
Like a wild man, he scanned the room.
Where the hell was she?
He pushed through a crowd, paying no attention to the disgruntled looks. A flash of white in the corner of his vision had him heading left.
Anger, hot and irrational, flooded through his system, pushing his adrenaline into overdrive. He knocked a drink out of someone’s hands. Glass crashed to the floor and liquid splattered on his pants. He didn’t even break stride.
“Hey, asshole!” a deep male voice called after him. She didn’t trust him.
Nothing he’d done tonight had proved anything to her. He’d fucking stopped. With any other sub he would have pressed, prodded, commanded until she surrendered. Not because he’d force her, but because it had been what they both wanted.
It was what Violet wanted too, what she needed. Her pussy had been soaking wet, her nipples hard. He could have used his hands and mouth until she forgot all about her fears. Forgot everything but his touch and the orgasms he was pulling from her body. But he hadn’t. She’d asked him to stop. And he’d done it. For her. Because he thought if he continued it might damage their relationship and he wanted to prove she could trust him.
He’d gone against his Master’s instinct because he hadn’t wanted to risk the fragile threads of their fledging bond. He’d been prepared to take care of her, pamper her, talk to her all night until she felt better.
But she hadn’t trusted him enough to do any of that. Instead, she’d run from him, from herself.
If she thought he’d let her get away with it, she was in for one hell of a surprise.
He tore through the crowd. Out the corner of his eye he glimpsed a flash of white. He veered, following the blur, fighting past the writhing bodies grinding to the heavy thump of music under the strobe lights. He kept his sight trained on the exit sign, knowing that’s where she was headed.
The heavy wood door angled open. A stream of light from the busy downtown street cast Violet in its iridescent glow. The knot in his chest loosened a fraction.