“He’s not my Dom.”
I don’t have a Dom anymore
.
“At the club here, he’s kind of everyone’s Dom—the uber Dom, if you will. Or is it Alpha? Whatever, you’re coming with me. Now. Let’s go.”
Angelina sighed. Karla sometimes acted more like a Domme than a sub. But what option did Angelina have? If she didn’t wear this, she could choose the school girl outfit with an equally short plaid skirt, or the harem slave costume that was practically see-through.
“Fine. Let’s go. I don’t want you to be late for your first set.”
They went downstairs and toward the kitchen, where she saw a cowboy and Zorro chatting near the table. As they walked into the room, the two turned and she saw Adam was Zorro, bare-chested under his cape, and Luke wore jeans, chaps, a vest, and also was shirtless. Luke’s pecs and abs, or what she could see of them, were well-defined and she had a sudden urge to run her fingers over his chest.
“Hot damn! You both look incredible,” Luke said, grinning. He came over to Angelina and she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. “Darlin’, you’re mine tonight.”
Angelina felt a little shiver. Not the same response as with Marc, but he wouldn’t have the nerve to show up while she was here. Taking Luke’s elbow, she really smiled for the first time since Monday night. Luke really was a nice man. He didn’t really feel very Dom-like, but he’d certainly lit her fire on Saturday night on her sofa. She could do a lot worse. And had.
Tonight she just wanted to have fun. She let Luke lead her to the hallway that went by the theme rooms, Adam’s office, and then into the bar and great room area. His spurs jangled as he walked. Adam and Karla walked behind them silently. She avoided glancing at Room Eight, but kept her gaze straight ahead of her.
“What can I get you to drink?”
“An Italian tickler, please.” When Luke quirked an eyebrow, she grinned. “Amaretto and club soda.”
As she waited for Luke, she surveyed the scene in the club. The costumes worn by the women were skimpy—whether they were Tops, bottoms, Dommes, or subs, it didn’t seem to matter. Angelina didn’t feel as self-conscious as she had upstairs. One Domme looked like Cat Woman and kneeling, his cheek against her over-the-knee boots, was Robin. Angelina smiled.
Several subs or bottoms were dressed as animals—puppies mostly, although there was a cat and even a pony. In addition to their animal ears and paws or hooves, they had tails attached to their butts by…oh, God! Butt plugs! She averted her eyes and saw Karla preparing to sing.
Luke handed her a drink. “Why don’t we go up near the stage?”
Angelina looked in that direction, but each of the small tables only had one chair. Luke took her by the elbow and led her to one and sat down. “You have two choices, darlin’. Kneel at my feet or sit in my lap.”
Luke smiled at her discomfort. Angelina flushed. There were no pillows to cushion her knees here like the one Marc had put down on the floor in her bedroom. Not knowing how long she’d be here, she made up her mind rather quickly. “Lap.”
She set her drink on the table next to his longneck and decided to wipe the smirk off Luke’s face. When she straddled his lap, facing him, clit to penis, his jaw nearly dropped. He glanced nervously toward the entrance, or perhaps he was looking for an exit. She smiled at the power she felt. Clearly, she’d surprised him. Well, good, because she had a feeling this night was going to be full of surprises for her, too.
Angelina Giardano was going to be nobody’s angel tonight.
“I’ve been wanting to do this since I came into the kitchen and saw you tonight.” She reached out and touched his chest, running her fingers under the flaps of the vest, over his taut skin, until she flicked the tip of her thumbnails over his hard nips. She felt his erection pressing against her clit. Her bare clit. Master Adam hadn’t included panties in her wardrobe purchases.
“Oh, Luke, I think you might be getting a fever. Where would you like Nurse Angelina to check your temperature—orally or rectally?”
Angelina had never role-played or played the vamp before, but was having fun watching a bead of sweat break out on Luke’s forehead. He looked as if he were about to explode. Then he regained his authority and reached for her hand to keep her from touching him.
“On your knees, Angel.”
The forcefulness of the command took her off guard. “But I thought—“
“I said kneel. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Ka-thunk. Her stomach seemed to drop a few inches. The change in his demeanor puzzled and excited her. Were they supposed to be on a real date? She just thought she was a mercy date because he felt sorry about how Marc had treated her
“One. Two.”
She swung her leg off his lap and knelt on the floor beside his chair. Thankfully, the floor was made of some material that had some give, which would help a bit on her knees if she were to have to kneel long. She remembered Marc had asked her to remain upright and keep her head bowed, so she assumed the same position.
“You can sit on your heels. You might be there a while. Keep your eyes on my boots.”
Karla began singing “
Poison
” and Angelina wondered if Master Adam had a clue she was singing to him. She might as well be singing for Angelina and Marc, as well. That man was equally lethal to her.
After Karla finished that song, mind-numbing boredom set in. Angelina surreptitiously looked around the room, trying not to raise or move her head much and saw Master Adam speaking with a dark-haired Dom dressed in green scrubs with a stethoscope around his neck. She could tell he was a Dom just by his stance—legs apart, hands on his hips, laden with testosterone. But she couldn’t see much more than the outline of his body without turning her head.
“I asked you to keep your eyes on my boots.”
“I’m sorry…Sir.” She returned her gaze to his feet.
“So am I, darlin’, because I’m going to have to put this on you.”
She saw him holding a black silk sash. A blindfold. “No, Luke! I’ll behave. I was just…curious.”
“Well, curiosity just got my nurse blindfolded. You need to learn some manners, too. Tonight you call me Sir.”
Angelina’s heart pounded as the room went dark. Why hadn’t he given her another warning? Marc usually had repeated his commands, at least until she’d gotten used to them. Luke insisted on perfection right from the start. Would she survive the night with him without a severe punishment?
Karla sang “
Spellbound
,” a song she recognized by an Italian Goth metal band, but the words had new meaning for her tonight.
Tell me who you are…You cannot have this control of me…I would break the spell you’ve put on me
.
“Open your mouth and take a sip.”
She opened quickly, not taking any chances on further punishment if she didn’t move fast enough. His hand grabbed the ends of the blindfold sash and pulled her head back slightly—not enough to impede swallowing, but far enough to exert his dominance over her. He held the glass to her lips and she sipped, the liquid tickling her nose.
When she pulled away to indicate she’d had enough to drink, she heard the glass being placed back on the table beside her. His finger pressed against her wet lips and forcefully entered her mouth while his hand caged her chin and pushed her jaw down to allow his finger deeper access. Memories of Marc doing the same thing in her bedroom caused her clit to throb. The finger slid along her tongue, deeper and deeper, until it hit the back of her mouth and she gagged, tears springing to her eyes. He pulled back immediately and with his other hand stroked her cheek gently.
“Sorry, darlin’, for being such a clumsy oaf.”
Oomph
.
Luke sounded as if he’d been kicked or punched. Before she could figure out what had happened to him, she felt his hand cup her breast just before his finger and thumb pinched her nipple. Hard. Her head went back of its own accord as her chest jutted closer to his hand.
“Like that, I see.”
“Yes.” Did all Doms have a fixation on nipples and breasts?
Luke squeezed both peaks, eliciting a moan from her.
“Did you forget something, darlin’?”
Angelina furrowed her brows. “Oh, Sir! I’m sorry. Sir.”
“Well, that’s the second time now. I think maybe you might need a little discipline to help you remember how to address your Dom properly.”
“Please, Sir. I’m just a little rattled tonight. Give me another chance. I’ll do better.”
“Oh, you’ll do better all right. Because I’m going to make sure you don’t forget it.”
How had Luke gone from such a nice guy to such a cruel Dom in such a short time? Angelina regretted agreeing to be his date tonight. She just wanted to go back upstairs and read an erotic romance or something.
“I want to try something different. I’m not going to speak commands or instructions, but only use my hands and body to convey what I want you to do. So, pay careful attention.” He chuckled.
Two hands gripped her upper arms and helped her to her feet. Before she could steady herself, an arm went around her back and another behind her knees and she was suddenly lifted into his arms.
“Oh!”
She heard Luke’s spurs below her as he carried her. Where was he going to punish her? Dread began to churn in her stomach and she thought the amaretto might come back up. They hadn’t discussed limits or anything. As she heard Karla’s voice receding, she knew they were going to the theme rooms. But which one?
Please, not the St. Andrew’s cross
.
He carried her into a room and the sounds of the club disappeared when he kicked the door closed. Her heart thudded against her chest, then stopped before pounding even faster.
“Luke, I mean Sir, I’m scared.”
He eased her feet to the floor and she felt his erection pressing against her abdomen. Her clit pulsed in response. He pressed his finger against her lips as if to shush her. Why didn’t he speak, say something to calm her nerves?
Why couldn’t he be like Marc, explaining everything along the way?
With his hands firmly on either side of her waist, he indicated he wanted her to move backward. She took one awkward step, then another, trusting him not to put her into danger. She had taken three steps back when she felt something hard pressing against her butt and shoulders. A hand flat against her chest told her to stay put.
She heard the jangle of spurs and then buckles, making her wonder what would come next. He lifted her left wrist and wrapped a cuff around it. Then the right. Next came cuffs on both ankles. As if afraid she would bolt, he swiftly raised one arm and fastened it to something as a forty-five degree angle, and did the same with the other.
The cross! Her breath came in shallow spurts and he stroked her upper chest slowly, conveying that she needed to slow down her breathing. She took a deep, shaky breath, then another. His hand cupped her chin as his thumb stroked her cheekbone.
She could almost hear Marc saying “
Good girl
.”
Disappointed that it wasn’t Marc with her, but Luke, she tried to relax. Then he grasped both ankles and pressed outward, forcing her to take side steps until she could spread her legs no further. The clicking of the cuffs being attached to the cross sounded like gunshots.
As he stood, his hands roamed up the insides of her calves, knees, thighs. She tried to raise her leg as a reflex against the invasion she knew was coming, but she couldn’t move. When he reached the garter, he pulled it away, then let it snap against her thighs, stinging her.
When she thought he would touch her pussy, instead, his hands slid along her hips to her sides. She couldn’t control a giggle when he touched her hypersensitive sides near her breasts. He sighed. Apparently, Luke was just as thrilled with her ticklishness as Marc. Well, deal with it. She couldn’t change who she was. And she was ticklish.
His fingertips trailed lightly along her cheeks, her ears, and she felt him removing the hairpins from her nurse’s hat. Next came the hair clip and he shook her hair out until it fell over her shoulders and breasts. Apparently, both men liked her hair loose. His fingers massaged her scalp and she felt herself relaxing.
He stopped and his hands were gone, then he was unbuttoning what few buttons there were on the skimpy uniform. He spread the fabric open and exposed her bustier. The air was cool against the tops of her breasts, which spilled over the top of the lacy garment.
His lips came down on the hollow of her neck and, if her arms weren’t holding her body up, her buckling knees would have left her in a puddle at his feet. She realized the cross was actually helping her not to have to worry about silly things like standing upright.
He pulled away and tapped her forehead and then pressed a finger against her lips again.
“
Give that busy mind a rest, pet
.”
Marc’s words rang loud and clear and she tamped down any other thoughts. Feel.
Just feel
. His lips pressed against the beating pulse in her neck and he suckled, then his tongue blazed a trail to her breasts. He lifted her breast out of the dubious confines of the bustier and took her rigid peak into his mouth.
“Oh, Sir. Please. Suck me hard. Bite me.”
He groaned, sounding so much like Marc, then took one peak between his teeth and the other between finger and thumb, clamping down hard on each. Her body jerked away from the cross and toward him.
His hand left her breast and trailed over her side and abdomen until he cupped her mons. She tilted her pelvis as much as she was able and silently begged him to touch her. His fingers spread open her folds and slid between her wet cleft. Without stopping, his finger thrust inside her, then another.
“Oh, God, yes!”
With his thumb he stroked her clit. She took off like a Roman candle as he stroked her faster and faster.
“I’m going to come. Please, Sir, may I come?”
His answer was to curl his fingers around to stroke her G-spot.
“Oh, yes! Oh, God! I’m coming! Her body convulsed against his hand. Don’t stop, Marc!” He stroked her until the sensation was too painful on her clit and pulled away.
Suddenly, she realized what she’d said. “Oh, Luke. I’m sorry!” How had she forgotten she wasn’t with Marc anymore, but Luke? She wished he’d say something, or touch her so she’d know he was okay.