She’d gone to a table then, picked up two metal things that I’d been able to identify as clamps.
And that’s when things had really gotten interesting.
Now, the Sub was making soft sounds that could’ve been whimpers of pain, or whimpers of pleasure. He had metal clamps on his nipples, and his chest was striped with bright pink lines from where his mistress had used what I assumed was a flogger. Juliette hadn’t shown me pictures, but her description had been clear enough for me to identify it.
The woman still hadn’t spoken, and the man hadn’t really either. He’d made plenty of noises, but nothing that could really be considered speaking, I supposed. It didn’t seem like they needed to speak though. There was something about the way they looked at each other that made me feel like they were communicating.
That was what really got to me, I finally realized. The intimacy of what they were doing didn’t seem violated by the audience. While I had no doubt that they were enjoying people watching them, their performance was for each other.
Another crack of leather against flesh and the young man cried out, his body shaking. His mistress was moving the flogger lower and lower, creating a pattern on his flat stomach to match the one on his chest. This last one, however, had hit the inside of his thigh. She made an identical hit to the other side, and then paused. I could feel the tension growing between the two of them, and I wondered what was coming next.
I couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping when the woman delivered a blow to her Sub’s testicles. It hadn’t been very hard, but enough to make the man jerk against his restraints, a half-strangled sound coming from his mouth. I shifted in my seat, practically gawking as the woman continued to flick out her wrist, letting the leather make contact with every inch of the man’s penis.
Finally, I couldn’t keep my question inside any longer. I leaned over to Juliette and pitched my voice as low as I could. “Doesn’t that cause damage?”
“It can,” Juliette admitted. “A bad Dom or a Sub who doesn’t use a safe word when things get to be too much can cause damage to anyone’s body.” She lifted her chin toward the stage. “But Miranda is excellent at what she does. Plus, she and Jason have been together for a while, so they know each other’s limits.”
So not every Dom / Sub relationship was like how my sister did it, I thought as I leaned back in my seat. That was good to know. Juliette had told me that this was how she relieved stress, but that it never followed her into her real life. Well, except when connections she’d made here wanted to hire her for catering jobs. She’d admitted that this club was how she’d come to know some of her wealthier clients.
Apparently, my sister wasn’t just a Dom in the sense of how she preferred her sexual experiences. She was a much-sought-after dominatrix who occasionally helped others work off some of their stress. This, she’d admitted, had led to her getting hired for bigger and better events for richer clients.
I’d just been relieved to find out that she could afford her apartment legitimately, and that she hadn’t resorted to something illegal to do it. After her admission last night, I’d had all sorts of crazy things going on in my head.
A new sound drew my attention back to the stage. The woman, Miranda, had put down the flogger and was now running her hands all over the man’s body. Her fingers traced each stripe, causing her partner, Jason, to gasp and twitch at every touch. When she wrapped her fingers around his cock, a shudder ran through him, and I couldn’t tell if it came from pleasure or pain. Or both.
When his hips began to move, pushing his dick against her hand, she let go. She didn’t step back though. Instead, she reached up and unfastened the straps around his wrists, then took a step back. Without needing instructions, Jason bent over to release his ankles. As soon as he could stand, he took a step forward, and then went to his knees.
Miranda walked over to him, stopping just before her body touched his. She looked down and put her hand on his head. Even from where I sat, I could see him relax into her touch. She ran her fingers through his dark hair, then tightened them, using his hair to tilt his head back. She moved closer, straddling his legs, her knees against his shoulders.
I caught my breath and something deep inside me tightened as understanding hit me like a wave. I knew what was going to happen next. And I couldn’t tear my eyes away or stop desire from pooling between my thighs.
Miranda kept one hand in Jason’s hair and used the other to inch the hem of her dress up enough that she could spread her legs a little wider. The bottom of her ass peeked out, showing that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath the dress. Then she was shifting her stance until Jason’s face was pressed between her legs.
Fuck.
A shiver went through me even as Miranda made a soft sound of pleasure. She held Jason’s head in place, grinding down on him even as I imagined his tongue and lips working on her. Her other hand went up to her breast and she pinched the nipple through the fabric.
Either Jason was really good or Miranda had been right on the edge – or both – but only a few minutes passed before she was tensing against him, clearly coming. Then she stepped back, revealing a panting Jason, his face glistening. Their eyes met, and they shared another of those silent communications.
A stab of jealousy went through me, surprising me. I didn’t need to analyze it though. I knew immediately what it was about. I wanted that sort of connection with someone. I just hadn’t realized I’d been missing it until now.
Chapter Six
The background music increased in volume as Miranda led Jason off the stage, his still-hard cock jutting out in front of him. I turned to Juliette.
“So he doesn’t get to...finish?”
“Not until his Mistress gives him permission.”
A male voice answered my question, and Juliette’s stony expression told me who it belonged to before I even turned.
Cross was dressed in a charcoal gray suit that somehow made him look even better than his tux had. He held out his hand to my sister first.
Of course.
“You must be Juliette Breckenridge,” he said, speaking just loud enough to be heard without shouting.
She took his hand and nodded, then gave me a sharp look as Cross turned to me.
“I must apologize,” he said, stepping closer to me than he had to Juliette. “I made an honest mistake last night. I asked someone to direct me to Miss Breckenridge, not realizing that there were two of you. Allow me to properly introduce myself. Cross Phillips.” He held out his hand.
“Hanna,” I said as I took his hand.
Instead of shaking it, he raised it and brushed his lips across the back of my knuckles.
Heat rushed across my skin. I hadn’t realized men actually still did that.
“I’m sorry if you considered my...proposal disrespectful,” he continued without releasing my hand. “That wasn’t my intent.”
I shook my head, knowing I should pull my hand away, but unable to do it. “No offense taken.” I caught a glimpse of Juliette out of the corner of my eye and remembered what actually happened last night. I slid my hand from his. “Besides, you thought you were talking to my sister.”
One side of his mouth quirked up, giving me a hint of that dimple. “That’s true. It was your sister’s reputation that had first intrigued me.” His eyes flicked toward her, then came back to me. “But I’d been watching you the whole night.”
My stomach flipped. Damn, he was charming. But that didn’t stop Juliette’s warning from ringing in my ears. Cross wasn’t searching for a girlfriend. He wanted to dominate someone, and I had a feeling that didn’t come with a boyfriend package. At least not with him. I could see it in the way he moved, the way he smiled.
Just because he got off on different things didn’t mean he was really any different from every other guy trying to get into my pants. There hadn’t been a lot of them, but enough for me to recognize a player when I saw one. He might not see himself that way, but he wasn’t in it for the long haul. That much was clear.
Plus, I didn’t believe him for one moment that he didn’t still want Juliette. She’d said he wanted a challenge. For all I knew, he was using me to get to her. Or at least he was trying to. I wasn’t going to let him. I might not be into this lifestyle like Juliette, or have the right sort of personality to be a dominatrix like her, but I wasn’t a pushover.
“Thank you for the apology,” I said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my sister and I came here to have a little fun.”
The slight widening of his eyes told me that he definitely hadn’t been expecting that response. Good. Maybe he’d think twice before screwing with someone’s head.
“If you’re here for some fun, why don’t you dance with me?”
The way he said it made it clear it wasn’t really a question. The part of me that was attracted to him loved the idea of him wanting me enough to dance with me. The logical part of me said differently though. If I danced with him, he’d think it was because he’d told me to, which was a dangerous path to go down with someone who got off on being in control.
Besides, he could just as easily be saying it because he wanted to put on a show for Juliette.
“Thanks, but I think Juliette and I are going to dance together for a bit.” I grabbed my sister’s hand, and the two of us headed for the dance floor.
I didn’t look at her as we made our way to the middle, turning to face each other as the song changed. I knew she’d be happy I didn’t go off with Cross, but I didn’t want to talk about it right now. I didn’t want to hear that I’d done the right thing. All I wanted was to dance and forget all about it. Forget about everything.
And for a while, I did. I lost myself in the music, in the rhythm. I might not have been sexually experienced, but I did know how to move. So did Juliette, and in the flashing lights, dancing across from her was like dancing in front of some strange mirror. I could feel the attention we were attracting, and I knew that Cross was one of those watching me. Despite everything, I still felt a small stab of pride and pleasure that he hadn’t completely blown me off, that he watched me.
Until I realized that he was probably just watching Juliette and I together like everyone else. He wasn’t looking at only me.
I turned away from Juliette, and toward one of the men who’d been hovering behind me for the past two songs. He was tall, buff...and wearing a tight leather shirt. That was fine. I didn’t want anything other than a dance. I wasn’t planning on taking anyone home with me, even if Juliette had already said she didn’t mind. I just wanted a hard body pressed against mine, moving in time to the beat.
Fortunately, he seemed to be on a similar page, because he didn’t bother asking my name or talking at all. He just put his hands on my hips and danced. We moved close enough that I could feel him hard against my thigh, but he never tried groping my ass and when I caught him looking at my breasts, he just grinned and shrugged.
This was what I needed. A place to let loose and have a little fun. I could see why Juliette loved this city and this place. Everyone could be who they were and not have to worry about how other people looked at them. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t here to hook up or get kinky. Just like it didn’t matter that there were two men in leather and chains grinding on each other next to me. To each their own.
At some point during the night, my partner left and another man took his place. No one tried to push me into anything, so I didn’t mind. If anything, it made it easier to keep them from getting expectations. I caught occasional glimpses of Juliette as she danced, and it was clear that she was pickier about her partners than I was. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was refusing anyone who wasn’t a Submissive. Not that there were many Doms who were attempting to cut in. It seemed that Cross had been right when he said my sister had a reputation.
Almost as if thinking his name had drawn me, I found myself looking straight at him. He wasn’t dancing. He’d moved to the second floor and was standing on the balcony.
Watching.
Me.
I turned my back on him and scanned the crowd for my sister. The pleasant haze that had come over me for the past few hours was gone and I was suddenly aware that my feet hurt, and I was thirsty. I couldn’t see Juliette, but I needed to get something to drink, so I excused myself and headed for the bar.
I ordered some decent tequila and a water. I really wasn’t interested in a nasty hangover in the morning, but I needed something to finish taking the edge off. It’d been a weird night. I turned and leaned against the bar, watching the crowd as I waited for my drinks. When they came, I downed the shot first, letting it burn all the way down before drinking half a bottle of water. I set it back on the bar behind me and pushed myself up onto a barstool. My body needed a rest.
For the next half hour, I fended off passes and offers while sipping my water. I had to admit, the people here were actually a lot more polite about rejection than some of the guys at clubs back home. Here, they just smiled and went to find someone else. I was sure every lifestyle had their assholes, but this place was either really lucky or they did a great job of crowd control, because everyone seemed to be having a good time and respecting everyone else.
“There you are!” Juliette exclaimed breathlessly. “I’ve been looking for you.”