Cherise Sinclair - My Liege of Dark Haven

Aroused? To her shock she realized she was damp between the legs. Her gaze shifted. “Have you noticed the way that Dom over there is—”

“Now you’re verbally evading.” He didn’t smile, but creases appeared in his cheeks. With his boot he nudged a high footstool closer to her chair and sat down on it in front of her. He leaned forward, forearms on his thighs, deliberately invading her personal space. Again. “Abigail, your ‘pay,’ like most of the staff in Dark Haven, comes in two parts: First, membership in the club. Second, learning about the lifestyle. The questions I ask help me understand what you need to learn.”

Did his teaching methods have to be so personal? Still, he was being logical. “You’re right.” She frowned. “You have a lot of staff, though. Don’t you get tired of”— terrifying? intimidating?—“instructing each person?”

“I don’t teach everyone, but I enjoy helping out now and then.” He ran his fingers through her hair, fingering the strands. “Especially with pretty blonde fluffs.”

Fluff. Didn’t that make her sound as if she hadn’t had an original thought in her whole lifetime? She gave him her professorial hell-will-freeze-over-before-you-get-an-A frown.

And received back a tap on her lips. “Have you heard the term impact play?”

That was what the Dom in the nearby scene was doing—using lots of painful toys that made nasty red marks on the skin. “Yes. Sir.”

“Frown at me again, and you’ll get a personal acquaintance with the definition.”

Her mouth dropped open, and he slid his finger inside. “Suck on me, Abigail. I want to feel your tongue.”

Why the dark command sent a wave of heat straight to her genitalia made no sense. She closed her lips and sucked, running her tongue over his fingertip. Then his heavy knuckles. Calluses added rough spots. He pulled his finger back, pushed in again, and the movement was so similar to…something else…that she could almost feel him inside her.

He straightened, then set his hands on the chair arms to cage her. His kiss was long, wet, and deep, and even his tongue dominated hers. When he withdrew a few inches, his black eyes were level and controlled despite the heat radiating from his body. “Can you think of a reason I shouldn’t fuck you when I play with you tonight?”

Lots! Only her brain couldn’t provide even one. He wasn’t a guy-slut. Women threw themselves at his feet, but he hadn’t accepted any that she’d seen. He wanted her. And she and her body apparently communicated just fine, because she knew she really wanted him.

What would being with Xavier be like?

His eyes never wavered.

She swallowed. “I can’t think of a reason.” Except anxiety. Fear. Worry. Embarrassment.

“Honesty becomes you, pet.” His gaze showed his approval. “I have a couple of scenes to oversee before I can get free. Are you doing all right on your own? Is anyone bothering you?”

“No, sir.” The formality slid out without her thinking about it. “A few have asked me to play, but—” She touched her collar.

His hand cupped her cheek. “The collar is for protection, not ownership. Unless I think the Dom would go too far past your comfort level, I’ll give you permission to play.”

“I understand.” His words sent a trickle of hurt through her. Didn’t any man ever want to keep her for his own? Pretending to look for her drink, she shifted in the chair and turned away from him.

“Stop.” Xavier stood and gripped her shoulder, forcing her to lean forward. His fingers ran down her back, and she flinched when he touched a sore spot. “Explain these marks.” The steel in his voice was icy cold.

“I… It wasn’t play. Sir. It—”Don’t yell. Please don’t yell at me.

“Xavier, I gave her the marks, but not during a scene.” Simon strolled over and sent her a reassuring smile. “She wanted to know how some impact toys felt, so before Rona and I started to play, I gave Abby a light, medium, and hard strike from a flogger, a signal whip, and a crop. Nothing else.” His eyes narrowed. “You asked me to answer her questions. I apologize if I overstepped.”

Xavier didn’t release her. His hand closed over her nape, just above her collar, as he traced one tender spot with his other hand. A tremor shook her. “She marks nicely, doesn’t she?”

“Almost too easily.”

His anger had dissipated, and she relaxed. As his finger skimmed slowly over each stripe, the sensation was…more erotic than anything she’d ever felt.

He released her. “No apologies needed, Simon. Answering questions is what a Dom does. Although I daresay you knew I meant verbal answers, not physical ones.” The look he gave the other man could have frozen fire.

“Would you prefer I not answer her questions—physically—again?”

Abby tensed. Why didn’t Simon stop? He’d explained to Xavier. This felt as if he was…almost pushing him.

Xavier gave him an unreadable look. “Exactly so. Verbal only.” He nodded at the stairs. “Rona is waiting for you.”

“And my lass has a temper.” Simon smiled at Abby. “Find me anytime you have more questions you need answered.”

Oh, like that would happen. Was Simon trying to start a fight? She glanced at Xavier’s face, and her insides clenched. Dixon had been right. Upsetting him wasn’t something she ever wanted to do.

How could she fix this? And why did his anger make her IQ drop lower than her age? “I’m sorry I upset you, my liege.” She stared at her fingers.

He gave an exasperated sigh and used a finger under her chin to tilt her face up. “Like many Doms, Simon manipulates events to get the outcome he wants. You did nothing wrong, pet.”

His smile rearranged her emotions, putting them in order. Her muscles eased. “Thank you, sir.”

“Have you got a thong or underwear on under that skirt?”

She stared. “Excuse me?” His lack of response was weighted with annoyance. “Yes, sir.”

“No underwear beneath other clothing. Understood?”

Well, wasn’t he just the autocrat? “Yes, sir.”

He pulled her to her feet. “Remove it.”

She got three steps toward the restroom.

“Here, Abby. Off. Now.”

Her attempt at a frown died under his black gaze. With a silent sigh, she reached under her skirt and slipped her panties off.

He removed an item from his leather bag. “Wear this instead.”

Pantie briefs made of tight rubber. She tugged them on. Not comfortable, especially with the hard lump over her crotch. She gave him a suspicious look.

“Yes, that’s a vibrator. Your task is to keep count of the times the vibe turns on.” A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “But no matter how much it turns you on, you may not come.”

Have an orgasm here? In front of everyone? “No problem, sir.”

“I’m pleased you have such excellent control.” The dryness of his voice made her recall how she’d climaxed last week. In front of everyone.

Her cheeks heated.

He leaned down and gave her a slow, drugging kiss that turned her on far more than any vibrator ever could. “I’ll find you in a bit.”

In the next hour Xavier dealt with a hysterical slave and then a quarrel about music selections on the dance floor.

After that he broke up an altercation between two Doms over a submissive. Even worse, the sub had incited the fight. The young men were still learning about D/s, so instead of coming down on them, he told them to discuss how a submissive had jerked their chains rather than the opposite.

He removed the sub from the equation. Harmonie certainly didn’t live up to her name. She’d caused problems before, and his tolerance had ended. He had a staff member escort her to the main floor, where he kept an area roped off for public punishment.

Mitchell, a stocky Dom from Australia, stripped her, and then Xavier used the controls to lower the wooden pony to knee level. As the narrow board swung from heavy chains attached to a low rafter, the short woman moved to straddle it.

Xavier raised the pony up. When the board reached Harmonie’s groin, Mitchell clipped her wrist cuffs to a horizontal chain running between the heavier front and back ones, giving her a way to balance herself.

Xavier winched the pony up slowly, until the brunette went up on tiptoes to get her pubes off the board.

The board wasn’t sharp but was damn narrow, reminding him of his youth when he’d slipped while climbing over a fence. His crotch had slammed onto the one-inch board. His balls had felt as if they’d jammed in his throat, which probably explained his strangled wheezing.

As long as Harmonie stayed on her tiptoes, the pressure would be off her pussy. Xavier studied her weight and muscle tone. After about fifteen minutes, her calf muscles would give out, and her weight would come down on her crotch…on a narrow board. Riding the wooden pony served as a painful punishment, and one that rarely translated to erotic, especially with no other stimuli.

“Harmonie, you will remain here for half an hour, thinking about your behavior. If you’re silent, Mitchell will release you, and you can resume play.” Although her cunt would hurt enough that she’d probably go home. “If you make noise or use a safe word, you’ll be barred from the club for a month. Are your choices clear to you?”

“Yes, my liege,” she whispered.

He glanced at Mitchell. “Put the sign on her, please.”

“Be a pleasure.” Mitchell hung the wooden sign on her, BAD SUBMISSIVE, and took a seat at a nearby table. He’d monitor her condition and release her if needed.