Authors: Morgan Ashbury
Jordan smiled, transforming him from the stern and commanding Dom into the man she’d known since she’d been a kid.
“If I weren’t so much in love with Chastity and Marcus, I never could have been talked into this.” He let the smile leave his face, and his gaze bored into hers.
“Last chance, Molly. Are you
absolutely
certain you want to do this? That you want to take this chance? It’s all right to back down, honey. No one but us—well, and Chastity, of course—will ever know. And none of us will think less of you for it.” Molly turned back to her reflection, her eyes seeing more than just the image the mirror threw back at her. In that moment, she saw the years of pining for Richard Grant, years stretching back to as far as she could remember. She saw herself trying to convince herself what she felt was nothing more than a school-girl crush, even going so far as to give her virginity to a boy in college in her bid to rid herself of this infatuation for her brother’s best friend.
The past and the future opened themselves to her sight, and she knew if she didn’t follow through, if she didn’t at least try this…this brazen seduction…then she’d never have a chance at what she wanted with all her heart.
12
Morgan Ashbury
She turned back to Jordan. “Yes, Master Jordan, I’m very certain.”
“Very well. Marcus, summon Jonathan.”
“Yes, Master.” Marcus left the room quietly.
“Eyes down,” Jordan commanded, his tone harsh. Molly complied.
A sub never looks a master in the eyes unless commanded to do
so
.
From the corridor, just outside this private dressing room, she heard the clank of metal. Seconds later a behemoth of a man filled the doorway. Bare chested, his well defined abs and pecs had been oiled to gleam in the lights of the club. Wearing a cowl mask that covered his head and upper face, he entered the room, carrying what appeared to be a set of chains with manacles attached in one hand and a riding crop in the other. Marcus returned and stood next to Jordan—his lover, his master.
“Unclaimed subs aren’t allowed to wander at will,” Jordan said, his tone that of the master. “And it will add to your appeal to be presented in chains.” Jordan looked at his watch. “The auction begins in ten minutes.”
Molly wondered why the masked man—Jonathan—stood still as stone, not so much as a toe moving. Why didn’t he move? Then Molly found out.
Jordan took one step closer to her. “Molly Durant, do you surrender yourself here and now, to become a willing submissive, bound to obey whichever master pays the highest price for you? To be held by us here and now until that master steps forward? Look me in the eye and answer me.”
His words shocked her because although she’d read about the lifestyle, although she’d made her decision, for the first time she stood on the threshold of commitment. She understood that she could say no, and that would be that. Get back into her street clothes, leave, and
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13
no one would know. Certainly Jordan and Marcus wouldn’t think less of her. All this, she knew.
Or she could say yes.
Molly licked suddenly dry lips and worked to ignore the shiver that slid from her shoulders to her finger tips.
“Yes, Master Jordan. I do.”
“Jonathan, chain this sub and take her to the holding room.” He gave her one more direct stare. “You might think it all begins in ten minutes, when the auction starts. But your new life begins right here, right now. Jonathan is your keeper. Obey him as you would any master.”
With a final half smile and nod, he and Marcus left the room.
Alone with Jonathan she felt more than a little miffed that her nerves chose that moment to stir to life.
“Arms above your head.”
Jonathan’s voice sounded nearly bored. In complying, Molly wondered if her nipples, just covered by the leather, would spring free. Fortunately, they stayed covered. Jonathan secured a chain around her waist. Attached to this chain hung four others. At the end of each chain a manacle dangled.
“Hands in front, wrists close together.” He enclosed her wrists in one set of manacles, then knelt to do the same to her ankles with the others.
Molly felt her face burn when instead of rising to his feet right away, he stayed eye-level with her mons. He blew a stream of air against her pussy. She felt her labia twitch with arousal. Shock held her in place. Here, then, lay proof that what she’d told Marcus had been nothing but the truth. In chains, a masked Dom before her, she’d turned wet with arousal.
Jonathan smirked. “Too bad the auction starts so soon. It would please me to inspect the goods.” Then he reached out and ran a single finger lightly over her leather covered crotch.
Outrage flared and then died.
14
Morgan Ashbury
I agreed to this
. How many times did her mother chide her for not being willing to pay the piper?
Good news, Ma, I’m facing the consequences of my actions
.
No, probably not a good idea to tell her mother about this moment.
Molly remained silent and still, waiting.
Jonathan got to his feet. He ran the riding crop back and forth a couple of times across the top of her breasts, not pushing it below the leather, just brushing the flesh that remained visible to the world.
“Yes, too bad. I think I would have enjoyed making a thorough inspection.”
He reached behind to the back of his belt, and Molly heard another clinking sound. When he brought his hand forward, she saw he held a simple collar and leash, items she didn’t notice until now.
Once he fastened them in place, he nodded. “Show time. A master is about to claim you. I’ll envy him the rest of his evening. Now, eyes down. Watch your feet and don’t trip.” Jonathan turned and led her out of the room. The blare of the music hit her, a wall of sound that seemed to breathe all around her.
She felt the heat of the bodies, the fullness of the main lounge.
Dozens of feet, mostly male, moved through her line of sight as she followed Jonathan on a path that took her through the heart of the crowd.
Murmurs of appreciation followed her, and Molly swallowed hard. She did her best to try and look up sneakily, raising her eyes but not her head, and wondered if she’d taken a wrong turn into a Halloween party. Collars and leashes, certainly, and leather and lace abounded. The ubiquitous French maid vied with the pig-tailed school girl for most worn disguise. One man dressed as a Pilgrim, one as a cowboy. Sudden movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention.
He stood tall, but that could have been the illusion of his mask, all orange leather, long and narrow, pointed chin and what appeared to be
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15
flames shooting off his head.
Yes, the mask looked like a demon made
of flames
. Robes of deep chocolate velvet covered his body and he stared at her with singular attention. The sight of him made her forget to keep her head down. Drawn to his eyes, the only feature of his face visible, Molly felt a shiver course down her spine. She could have sworn his eyes burned black with tiny red dots for pupils.
Satan’s
eyes
. She looked away to her right and spotted the long mahogany bar that ran the length of one wall and a man leaning against it. As she turned her gaze to him he came to rigid attention. Black hair gleaming in the club lighting, tension radiating from every pore, he stared at her with an expression she couldn’t read.
Molly averted her eyes and followed Jonathan. Her heart pounded heavily as they skirted the stage and entered a side door.
She didn’t have to wonder any longer if Richard had come to his club tonight or not. He had, he’d seen her, and now there could be no going back.
Molly’s nerves came alive as if hit with an electric current as she wondered what would happen next.
16
Morgan Ashbury
There’s something in the air tonight
.
Richard Grant leaned against the bar, his back to the bartender, his attention on the room and the sea of bodies that flowed and ebbed more or less to the music. Richard thought the sound, heavy on beat, light on lyrics, could have been connected to human history, that sense of ages past that lived within every psyche. A primal, feral sound.
Scrape off enough layers and one came down to the basic animal.
His thirty-six years of life had proven this to Richard beyond any doubt. He didn’t consider himself, however, a cynical man.
He found the animal inside him cause for celebration, not shame or, worse, penitence.
He allowed himself the pleasure of a smile as he contemplated his own personal nature. He considered himself a hedonist of the first order. He performed the necessary minutiae of life, fulfilling the obligations of a responsible member of society and a business owner.
But once those chores had been completed, he turned all his attention to the pursuit of pleasure. Unabashedly, enthusiastically, and with no holds barred.
“Good crowd.”
Richard turned to the blond man standing beside him. Looking at Alan gave him pleasure. Not so much because he was handsome—
truthfully, Richard had met and bedded more handsome men. The attraction he felt for Alan had nothing to do with physical beauty.
There existed a beauty inside Alan, a kind of shining faith in life that
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endured and held fast in the face of enormous personal tragedy, a beauty simple, steadfast, and pure.
“It is a good crowd,” Richard agreed. “Jordan must be smiling.” Alan chuckled. He moved just an inch or so closer to Richard so that their bodies touched. “In case you haven’t noticed, he’s been smiling a lot lately. Ever since that party they threw where he, Marcus, and Chastity pledged themselves to each other, mates for life.”
“I have noticed. Jordan is a lucky man. As a matter of fact,” Richard turned so that he could hold his lover’s gaze, “seeing how happy the three of them are together has inspired me to thinking, lately. I know we talked about it when we first got together, and I know we’ve both enjoyed ourselves the couple of times we’ve entertained female guests. How would you feel about adding a woman to our relationship on a permanent basis?”
“She’d have to be a sub.”
The speed with which Alan answered told Richard he’d been giving the matter likely as much thought as he. “Because?” Alan lowered his gaze and pressed himself even closer to him.
The scent, part cologne and part just Alan, surrounded Richard. He felt his cock begin to stir and knew when they got home tonight he would immerse himself in his lover.
Almost shyly, Alan lightly kissed Richard’s ear. “Because I want only your hand on the paddle when I need to be spanked, only your hand gripping my hair when you command me to worship your cock.”
“And if it pleases me to have someone else administer your discipline?” Richard heard the edge in his question, recognizing that the part of him that loved being master asserted itself.
“Then I will obey you without question or hesitation, of course, Master.”
Damn, Richard really loved this man.
“Good. And on this, I can set your mind at ease. I thought of taking on a female sub.”
18
Morgan Ashbury
“Is that why we’re here tonight? For the auction?” He heard the note of disbelief in Alan’s voice. When Richard raised his eyebrow and looked at him, the other man shrugged. “You always refer to these kinds of events as D/s light. I would have thought that you’d canvass the members you knew if you decided to look for a new sub.”
“You know me well,” Richard said. That Alan did know him so well, paid attention to him, to his thinking and his ideas, pleased Richard immensely.
There wasn’t anything about Alan, in fact, that Richard didn’t like. If it not for the fact that he liked pussy as much as he liked cock, Richard figured he could be quite content keeping things to just the two of them.
He turned his attention back to Alan. “We’re here tonight because Jordan called and wanted me here.”
“Do you think he has a problem?” Alan asked.
“We’re about to find out. There they are now.”
“Chastity isn’t with them,” Alan said quietly.
It would be just a minute before Jordan and Marcus joined them.
Richard turned to Alan. “I want what they have. The kind of family they have. You?”
“Yes. I want that kind of family very much. A forever kind of family.”
Alan didn’t often show his vulnerabilities, but Richard knew them all. He liked being a Dom. He liked the mix of sex and power. But he liked being the one who took
care
of Alan, in ways subtly different from the way Alan took care of him.
“Yes,” Richard said now. “A forever kind of family.” He turned his attention to the man approaching them.
He’d first met Jordan Fitzpatrick more than a dozen years before, not long after Jordan arrived from the West Coast. The three of them—him and Jordan and Michael Durant—hit it off almost immediately. In those days, Richard had just started exploring his bi-Brazen Seduction
19
sexuality, and he thought maybe he and Jordan saw that side of the other then, that common thread. He didn’t act on that feeling because he liked Jordan and wanted that man in the role of friend only.
Richard nearly smiled. If he’d made a pass at Jordan, it would have freaked Michael out. But Richard didn’t know for certain that Jordan was involved in the lifestyle until just a few years ago, when the man opened Reckless Abandon.
“Richard, Alan,” Jordan greeted as he approached. Marcus also nodded, then turned his attention to the bartender. He ordered two club sodas with lime. Richard did smile then. The owner of Reckless Abandon habitually ordered the same drink he and Alan did whenever they came here.
What with all the concern over drinking and driving, and given the activities he and Alan partook of from time to time, he believed it best, all around, to leave the consumption of alcohol for evenings at home and the occasional dinner out.