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“So this is what freedom feels like.” Carter tipped his head back, his hands gripping the handlebars of the only thing left from his life before prison—his motorcycle.
“It’s good to have you home, brother,” Cillian said, leaning against the open garage entrance.
Carter rested his palms on his splayed thighs. “It’s good to be out.”
Trees rustled in the same humid summer breeze that filtered into the small space, giving some reprieve to the stale scent of lingering engine oil. Carter took a deep inhale, closing his eyes. His stomach was full of good food for the first time in five years, and he’d gotten a haircut and a fresh trim, opting to keep his beard longer. He felt human again. There was no one telling him when to shit and eat.
Anger hummed through his veins.
I never should have been there to begin with.
Someone was going to pay, and he knew just where to start.
“Have you heard from your guy?” Carter asked, focusing on his friend.
Cillian shook his head. “Said he needs a little more time, but he’s close.”
“If he wants any more money, he better be more than close.” Carter clenched one fist.
“Look, why don’t you take some time to adjust? You just got out. Let’s go for a ride, maybe stop by the club?” Cillian suggested.
“I don’t need pussy. I need revenge.”
Cillian ran a hand through his raven-black hair and shook his head. “You also need to stay on the low. The last thing you want is someone from the Finches on your back.”
Carter ground his teeth. “They took everything from me.”
“Not everything.” Cillian stared through him.
“Everything that mattered.”
Cillian pushed off the side of the wall. “So, get revenge, but be smart about it. If they can frame a fucking high-school principal and have you sent away for five years just by bribing the judge, this probably goes further than you know. Just . . . be patient. We’ll find the person responsible, and you’ll get your moment.”
Carter stared ahead, unblinking.
His friend scoffed. “Good to see prison hasn’t changed you too much. I’ve missed holding you back from doing stupid shit.” Cillian chuckled.
Carter stared at the dark scars on his knuckles—evidence of the many times he’d gotten himself into trouble only for Cillian to back him up. He caught his reflection in the bike’s mirror. The newest scar sliced from his forehead
to his cheek. He’d almost lost an eye in the attack barely survived it. But his physical evolution wasn’t what had changed the most. It seemed his friend could sense the internal evolution of Carter. Before prison, he’d been a rowdy academic and the state’s youngest principal despite his rough-around-the-edges persona. But he’d come out a man consumed by a dark obsession.
“Truth is, Ian, the man I was before . . . he’s dead. I tried to play by their rules, and it got me behind bars, with a destroyed reputation and career.”
Cillian chuckled as his eyebrow quirked. “Since when did you follow the rules?”
“Followed them close enough, anyways.” Carter smirked and slid the key into the ignition.
The engine rumbled to life.
“But I think it’s time I color outside the lines permanently.” Carter hit the gas, his motorcycle gliding out of the garage and into the street.
Wind whipped against his cheeks as he gained speed.
He took side roads, driving for minutes or hours—time had no hold on him as he circled the town and merged onto the highway before looping back as the sun set. Riding had always helped him let off steam before, but this pressure was too great. He needed more of an outlet.
Carter turned left, heading into the warehouse district. A few minutes passed as his headlights illuminated the path before him. He parked the bike and tucked the keys safely in his pocket before heading to the entrance.
The steel door opened to a dimly lit room with a man and woman behind the counter. Carter signed the necessary paperwork, paid the fee, and entered the dungeon.
Red glowed all around the room. Built-in LED lighting set the tone for most of the open
space. The hiss of a whip and an answering whimper drew his attention to the main stage. A woman in black, shiny leather punished another lash onto her waiting submissive. The man’s back was decorated with red slashes. Welts scattered over his back like a deviant work of art.
Carter was impressed. It took a lot of practice and education to know how to handle a bull whip and not injure someone beyond what they craved.
“Thank you, Mistress,” the sub cried out as she cracked the whip again.
Sweat glistened off the male sub’s body under the lights. His muscles trembled and jerked as if anticipating the next blow.
The sight was intoxicating. The trust they shared, to allow themselves to be this vulnerable not only with each other, but in front of an audience, was beautiful. Fuck, it was hot.
Carter adjusted himself as inconspicuously as possible as he scanned the crowd.
A set of dark eyes caught his attention through the hazy red atmosphere of writhing bodies and voyeurs alike. Carter did a double take. She was gorgeous, standing on the very edge of the room. Her focus flicked away from him to a man leaning comfortably in a chair watching the center-stage performance, while another man sucked him off.
Timidly, she inched closer as if trying to get a better look. She swatted a loose strand from her smooth, straight brown hair pulled into a neat bun that made him want to run his hands through it and mess it up. Her eyes widened with what seemed like smoky curiosity and heat. Her makeup was a bit heavy—dark shadow with her eyes lined in kohl. How pretty would she look with it running down her face? Her lips were bright red, perfect for marking his cock. Peeks of flawless brown skin showed through the professional, knee-length red dress she wore, hugging her gorgeous, ample curves.
She wasn’t tall by any means, but her heels gave her a few more inches, highlighting her toned calves. His hands itched to lift the hem and see if her thighs were just as thick as the rest of her. Carter squeezed his hands into
fists, refraining from doing something stupid like reaching out to her as she looked his way again.
Her eyes widened and she blinked twice as if not believing what she was seeing. He probably looked like a maniac, staring at her like this. Carter took one last lingering look and turned away, before walking to the bathrooms.
He relieved himself and splashed water on his face as two men went at it through a glory hole in the stall. Carter wiped his face and stared in the mirror.
Am I in the right headspace to scene? It had been a long time since his last encounter. It might just be what he needed to get his head straight.
He ran a hand through his hair, trying and failing to smooth some of the mess riding with no helmet had done. He walked back out of the bathroom, the door hitting something solid.
“I’m sorry. I—”
The woman he’d been admiring rubbed her arm. “It’s okay.”
Fuck. All the blood rushed to his cock.
“I should have been more careful,” he insisted.
“No harm done.” Her lips lifted in a tentative smile. Either the backlight was glowing off her cheeks or she was blushing. Her eyes darted from his face to his chest and back up.
“I could kiss it, make it better?” he offered, immediately wishing the floor would swallow him. Five years in prison certainly hadn’t offered much time to practice flirting. “Sorry, that’s—just forget I said anything.”
Her smile dimmed. “Oh. Um. Okay.” She turned and moved to the bar.
Carter took his time walking around the red-hued dungeon. People from all walks of life gathered together here to enjoy the kinks that made them happy. The dungeon master gave Carter a nod, his watchful eyes scanning the room and making sure everything was as safe as possible for the participants.
He leaned against a metal cage big enough to hold a few naughty submissives, though only one resided inside. The woman snuggled close to the bars as her Dominant play partner rubbed her forehead through the bars, whispering words of praise to her.
A throat cleared behind Carter. He turned, surprise ricocheting through him.
“What if . . . what if I wanted that kiss?” the beauty from before asked.
He straightened. “Then I’d ask how much you’ve had to drink tonight.”
“Just the one at the bar. That’s the limit here,” she answered.
“You didn’t have anything else before you came? You’re sober?” he clarified.
“Yes—I mean, no. I haven’t had anything else.”
He nodded, the temptation too great. “We could negotiate a scene.”
She licked her luscious lips and took a deep breath as if bolstering her self-confidence. A smile curved her beautiful mouth. She was breathtaking. Her eyes lit up with need and curiosity. She had a shyness to her but was seemingly doing her damnedest to push past it.
“What’s your name?”
“Pen-uh, Piper.” She fumbled.
Not her real name.
“Okay, Piper. Let’s get a table and negotiate.” He motioned to the left where there were a few tables surrounded by people drinking water and talking in low tones.
“Can—can we do it in a private room?” Piper’s voice wavered as if she was nervous. Maybe she was new to the scene.
“If that makes you more comfortable. I’ll be right back.” He left her, heading to the reception area and reserving a private room on Cillian’s tab. He’d pay his friend back.
Carter rushed over to Piper, two water bottles in hand.
“Follow me.” He led her to door number four and walked in.
Blue light illuminated a mirror-walled room. A desk sat at one end with a few papers stacked on top of it. Impact tools hung from the walls for use, a black leather spanking bench stationed on the right. Hard points with chains were bolted to the left wall and the ceiling. In the center of the room was a scarlet red St. Andrew’s cross that inverted.
He turned back to Piper, scanning her body from head to toe, gauging her reaction to this space.
Her eyes widened as she took it in. One manicured red finger dipped between her lips as she chewed on her nail.
That would have to stop. He cleared his throat. “I’m looking for a submissive—someone to trust me to bend them to my will. Someone I can break down and build back up into an even stronger version of themselves. Someone who can take some pain, but more so, my pleasure. If you consent, I’ll give you a night to remember.”
Piper’s chest heaved, the fabric of her dress pulling tight against her breasts.
“I like to be called Sir, but if another honorific works for you, I’m open to ideas.”
Piper swallowed, her delicate neck bobbing. “Sir works.”
“What are you looking for?”
“I’m still new to all this. I don’t . . .” She glanced at the cross behind him.
“What are your limits?” he asked.
“I’m still figuring that out, but I don’t want any marks where anyone could see. No anal, and I need you to wear a condom.”
“We don’t have to do anything with pain at all. Is that something you like?” he asked.
Piper rubbed her arms as if cold. “I . . . I don’t think so. Like I said, I’m new to this. I just started exploring.”
“We can go slow. The most important thing you need to remember is when I ask how you’re doing, or if you like something, you need to be honest and not give me an answer you think I want. We need to be able to trust each other to some level in order to play safely.” Carter stepped forward. “I always wear a condom. I have a clean bill of health. No STIs.” Prison kind of put a dent in my social life. “What about you?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m clean too.”
His finger glided under her chin, tipping it towards him. Energy thrummed up his arm at the connection. Tendrils of smoky arousal sunk into his flesh. His gaze
flew to hers.
She gasped, staring up at him. Her dark pupils dilated, swallowing the honey brown of her irises.
“What is it?” he asked, intentionally moving his hand to cup the side of her face as he stepped closer.
“It feels . . .”
Carter leaned in. The air grew thick between them, arousal and lust mixed with something dark and depraved and just a little bit desperate. “It feels like what?”
Her eyes fluttered closed. She looked younger up close.
Hesitation flared within him. “Answer me, Piper.”
Pools of dark honey shot open, filled with so much need it almost had him coming in his pants.
“When you touch me, it feels safe.” She shook her head. “I know that sounds—”
“You are safe with me.”
They stared into each other’s eyes, a silent conversation taking place, as if she was gauging just how truthful his words were. Finally, she nodded.
“For tonight, I’m yours,” she said on a breath.
“What’s your safe word?” he asked, using the last of his self-control to stop himself from ripping the dress and exposing every luscious inch of her curvy body to him.
Twin lines appeared between her brows. “Um . . .”
“How about we use the traffic light system? Green means keep going. Yellow means you’re not sure, proceed with caution, or you’re almost to your limit. Red means everything stops, and we can reassess to move into aftercare or just end that activity.”
“Okay.”
Carter slid his hand to the back of her hair, his fingers threading through the neat bun, twisting so there was no question who was in charge. “We’ll go slow. But you should know, it’s been a while. I will probably embarrass myself and come far too quickly.”
“How long?” she asked."
“Sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”
He dragged his nose up her jaw to her temple, inhaling. She shuddered. So fucking responsive. “Five years.”
Her quick inhale had him smiling.
“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll make it worth it for you.”
“Are you sure you don’t want someone more . . . um . . . experienced?”
“What I want is standing in front of me.”
She trembled slightly, but her chin tipped up with determination.
“What is the safe word to stop everything?”
“Red.”
“Good girl. Now, tell me, Piper.” He leaned in to her ear, purposefully using his breath to tickle her nape. “What’s your darkest fantasy? The one you lie awake in bed at night, touching yourself to. The one that makes these beautiful light brown cheeks blush.” He dragged his nose over her pulse point.
She shivered and pressed her lips together as if holding back.
“Tell me what it is you desire most.”
“I . . .” She closed her eyes as if gathering herself for a moment before those big brown eyes opened and stared at him—through him—like she could see the man he was down to the very marrow of his bones.
Something warm and knowing cracked open inside his chest, spreading out through his limbs.
Piper’s gorgeous red lips parted. “I’ve never spoken my fantasy aloud to anyone.”
“And it will never leave this room, unless you choose to bring it up elsewhere.”
“I—I want . . .” The blush in her cheeks deepened.
“Say it, and it will be yours.”
“I want you to use me.”
That . . . while not uncommon, had not been where Carter thought she was going.
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You want me to use you?”
She nodded.
“I need more details than that, doll.”
Her eyes lit up. “That’s what I want to be. Your fuck doll. I want you to use me for your pleasure.”
Carter straightened, taking a breath and surveying the room to see what they had at their disposal. While her request was in fact a popular one amongst submissives, it didn’t stop his curiosity as to why this specific fantasy turned her on.
She leaned into him, placing her hand back on his arm. Charged energy pulsed from the connection. “Sir?” Her honeyed voice wrapped around him like a fist.
“Yes, Piper?”
Her eyes grew hazy. “Make me forget? Just for tonight. That’s what I want. I want to forget who I am, life’s responsibilities. I just want to exist to please you. To experience everything I’ve been denied. Can you . . . can you do that?”
Maybe he wasn’t the only one who needed an escape after all. Maybe he and Piper had a lot more in common than he’d realized.
He stepped away from her, severing the connection that thrummed up his arm. “Get on your knees.”
Piper wobbled slightly before dropping elegantly to her knees before Carter. It sent a surge of pride swelling in his chest that this stranger felt safe enough to let this side of her out with him.
“Good girl. You listen well.” He took his time, walking around her once before heading towards the St. Andrew’s cross. “Now stand.”
She got up, straightening her dress and folding her hands neatly in front of her.
“So put together. I bet you’re like this all the time.”
“I—I am.”
“But now you’re my fuck toy, and I get to strip you down and use you. Right, Piper?”
“Y-yes, Sir.”
“That’s what you want to be for me, isn’t it? A fuck doll?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You’re perfect.” He let his praise sink in for a moment. A small smile tilted her lips.
“Take your clothes off.”
Her eyes widened and darted to his.
“Hesitation gets punishment. That’s one.”
Her mouth parted as if she wanted to ask a question, but she closed it and reached for the zipper under her arm. The sound echoed in the mostly silent room. Nothing but the thumping bass from the main dungeon made it into the small space. Carter liked it that way. Then he could hear every whimper and moan that would fall from her lips. He’d create a decadent, sinful symphony with Piper’s moans tonight.
The dress fell to her feet revealing a black lace bra that barely held her voluptuous breasts and matching panties. Her arms moved in front of her soft belly, as if trying to hide it. If she was feeling self-conscious, she was still too much in her head. He’d remedy that.
“Take it all off. I want you in nothing but those sexy-as-fuck heels.”
With shaky hands, she unhooked her bra. She let it fall into the pile at her feet. Twin breasts bounced free with dark nipples, making his mouth water. God, she was gorgeous. All soft curves and feminine allure.
She hooked her fingers in her panties and tugged them down, revealing a bare pussy.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
She obeyed.
He stepped forward until only inches separated them. He threaded his fingers through her bun until he found the pins and pulled them out. A few stray
curls fell down too.
She drew in a quick breath as her hair tumbled onto her shoulders.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
She remained silent.
“Do you believe me?” he asked.
“I—don’t know how to answer that . . . Sir.”
Her answer twisted something in his chest. The urge to show her just how beautiful she was reared its head like a monster thrashing in his rib cage, needing to get out.
Carter closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose as he switched into the right headspace.
“Stand next to the cross.”
She moved around him, her back to the giant X.
“Put your arms up, doll.”
Piper lifted her hands, and he strapped them into the cross above her head. Next, he bound her feet.
He ran a hand over her cheek, down her neck, and between her breasts. She panted under his touch, eyes locked on him as he circled her belly button.
“Are you comfortable in the restraints?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir.”
“If that changes at any time, you need to let me know. Understand?”
“Yes.”
He moved to the back of the cross, tilting it so she was no longer upright but splayed out flat on her back, facing the mirrored ceiling.
“Now, you keep your eyes up there and watch everything I do to you. If you close your eyes, that’s another punishment. Got it?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Feel free to struggle as hard as you want—you’re not getting out of those unless I let you out.” He tugged at her ankle to prove his point. Her skin broke
out in goose bumps despite the warmth in the room. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with each panting breath. The buzz of anticipation sunk into his pores, drugging his veins.
“You like the idea of being at my mercy, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He walked between her legs, hands splayed on both her thighs. She jolted as if the connection scared her.
“How are you doing so far?” he asked.
“Good—uh, green.”
He smiled. She was a quick learner. “I think you’re really going to like this next part.”
Carter kissed her inner thigh. She tensed as he lowered his head and kissed her inner thigh before his beard scraped the sensitive flesh.
He stood, looking down at her with satisfaction shining in his eyes. Her chest filled with warmth.
“Such a good little fuck toy, letting Sir use you.”
Piper had wanted a night to escape, but he was going to give her a night she’d never forget.
Piper forced breath in and out of her lungs as the Dom she’d picked for tonight walked around the room. Every step of his boots thudded against the concrete floor, making chills race up her spine. Anticipation wound through her, heating her body. Her heart raced.
This is the craziest, most dangerous thing I’ve ever done.
Normally, she was just an observer at the club. She’d never in a million years thought she’d be brave enough to try it out on her own, unsure she could afford such a risk. But this lifestyle intrigued her. And the more she learned, the more she felt she belonged.
Sir had been handsome under the seductive lighting in the main dungeon, but here, standing up close as he studied every inch of her, he was something out of one of her erotic romances. Dark brown skin with colorful tattoos winding up his bare, muscular arms and disappearing into the white T-shirt stretched taut against his wide chest that heaved with each steady breath. He stood at least six feet, eight inches tall, towering over her. He ran a hand over his jet-black hair braided in short cornrows.
He met her gaze and his eyes narrowed at the ends into ovals.
The scar running from his forehead down his cheek made him look dangerous, but that wasn’t how she felt with him.
I can’t believe I told him I felt safe with him.
Men were not safe. She’d learned as a little girl that the prettiest men could be the most vicious. Maybe that was why he appealed to her so much. He wore his ruthlessness on his skin, but underneath he was kind—kind enough to offer her safe words, anyways. He seemed to genuinely care about her having a good time. He was already leaps and bounds above anyone else she’d been with.
She studied him in the mirror above as he turned his back and walked to a line of hanging instruments. He grabbed a flogger off the wall, along with a paddle. Her body stiffened in anticipation. She hadn’t actually scened with anyone like this. But this was her last chance to do something for herself—to live. Something she’d only ever dreamed about. It was not like she could share this with her high-society friends. That kind of information was ripe for blackmail within her social circles.
This level of submission required trust. She would essentially be at this man’s mercy. Would he listen if she safe-worded? Would he want to cause her a lot of pain? Wasn’t that what most people in this lifestyle liked? That was what she’d thought before she started doing research. What she had found was entirely the opposite of most of the stereotypes she’d heard. ...
