Cherise Sinclair - My Liege of Dark Haven

She swallowed. “I g-guess not.”

He studied her. He was pushing, but he didn’t think it was too much. Although he could overwhelm a compliant sub, this wasn’t one. And the receptionist did need to be able to fill in as a submissive when needed.

Off to the side, Dixon was shifting his weight from leg to leg as if expecting Abby to get flattened. “Dixon, can you explain who I am?”

“Please, my liege, she didn’t know. Don’t—”

Ah, the fluff had made a friend. “I’m not offended. She simply needs confirmation of my position here.”

Dixon turned to the young woman. “This is the owner of Dark Haven. Master Xavier. Call him ‘my liege.’”

Xavier sighed. He had no idea who’d first given him that title, but the submissives took such delight in it, he’d allowed it to continue.

Taking a step forward, Dixon whispered all too clearly, “For fuck’s sake, don’t upset him or say no to him.”

Don’t smile.

Abby’s lips curved into a provocative O. “Well. Forgive me, please, m-my liege.”

Since she wasn’t his, he tried not to think of the ways a submissive might demonstrate her penitence. “Now we have that straightened out, let’s get on with the lesson.”

Dixon motioned to Rainier’s submissive. “I…uh…brought her an ice pack, sir.”

Finished crying, the young woman had curled into a corner of the couch. “That was thoughtful of you. Ask Rainier if you may assist her while he joins me.”

“Yes, my liege.”

Xavier glanced at Rainier, who was leaning on the couch next to his submissive, and said, “I’m sorry for the delay.”

“No problem. Destiny would be hard to replace.”

“She has been.” Xavier set his toy bag on the oversize coffee table and removed a roll of bondage tape. He preferred leather cuffs, but the tape was less intimidating. After stepping behind Abby, he grasped her right wrist. “Abby, since we’ve not played together before, you tell me if something is getting to be too much.”

It’s already too much. Abby looked over her shoulder at the owner of the club. White dress shirt, black silk vest, black jeans, black boots. Definitely in the tall, dark, and handsome category, only the words seemed insipid compared to the reality. The wide, muscular shoulders turned tall into dangerous. His skin held the darkness of Native American ancestry, and the long black braid down his back was a definite statement. Very handsome, with chiseled European features that went well into hard-edged.

And scary. But she couldn’t back out. She doubted the man had a benevolent bone in his body. Quite obviously if she didn’t “assist,” she’d be out the door. She sure hadn’t thought her participant observation would include real participation. Unease tickled the back of her throat.

He glanced up, and the sun lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement. “Easy, Abby. The club safe word is red, and if you use it, play stops immediately. Say it loudly, and a dungeon monitor will show up to make sure you’re all right.” Holding her arm firmly, he wrapped what looked like wide packing tape around her right wrist a couple of times, and she realized the material wasn’t sticky.

“Red. Got it.”

“Abby,” he said. “I daresay you know how to address a Dominant in this setting, especially the one working with you.”

The uninflected reprimand made her flush as if she’d been caught cheating off someone’s test paper. “Yes, my liege.”

He didn’t rant but nodded acceptance.

Despite her relief that he hadn’t lost his temper, anxiety thrummed in her ears as he pulled her other arm behind her back and secured both wrists together. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend nothing was happening. She’d never been able to let Nathan put her in handcuffs. Why in the world was she allowing this stranger to restrain her arms?

But she needed this place for her fieldwork. Needed to keep her job. Publish or perish. If she ever met the academic who’d invented that phrase, she’d shove his papers down his throat until he choked.

“Abby.”

She opened her eyes.

Xavier stood in front of her, looking down. Why did he have to be so tall? His warm hands massaged her bare shoulders. “Any strain in your joints?”

“No, sir.”

He studied her silently.

She shifted her weight, trying not to think about her lack of mobility. If she didn’t move, she wouldn’t know—much like closing her eyes during gory movie scenes.

“Pull on the tape, Abby. How does it feel?”

Her arms jerked involuntarily, and just like that she knew she was restrained. Couldn’t defend herself. That her body was available to the impassive-faced Master. Alternating waves of heat and cold rushed over her as if she stood in front of a rotating fan. She pulled harder, and panic squeezed her throat.

“Easy, pet.” He cupped her chin with one firm hand. His fingers curled around her arm, creating a warm place on her skin. His movements showed how easily he could touch her…yet the contact was comforting. Settling. “Eyes on me.”

Panting, she looked up and into eyes the color of darkness, but the specks of golden brown made them warm, not cold.

“Good girl.” He stroked his thumb along her jawline. “You know you can’t escape, but I’m not going to do anything you won’t enjoy. We’re here in a public place, and you have a safe word that will summon every monitor in the dungeon. Now slow your breathing down before you hyperventilate.”

Oops. His gaze never left hers as she pulled in a measured breath and let it out.

“Better. Another.” His grip on her upper arm was unyielding but not painful. A man’s hand.

Why did his touch seem different from Nathan’s? Why didn’t she get that horrible dread?

“Little fluff, I want you to remember how you’re breathing now. When I tighten a clamp, it will hurt for a few seconds. I want you to inhale through the pain like you did with your fear.”

“Pain? But—”

“Do you get flu shots?”

“Yes.” When his eyebrows pulled together, she added a hasty, “My liege.”

“This is the same level of pain, although people rarely get turned on by vaccinations. Whereas nipple clamps…” A crease appeared and disappeared in his cheek.

She nodded to say she could handle that much pain. But could she handle these disconcerting flares of heat? Her nipples actually tingled as if anticipating the touch of those powerful fingers.

Was this the kind of thing Nathan had wanted to do with her? Guilt pressed on her chest. Considering he had dumped her, she shouldn’t feel as if she were betraying him. But she did. And she’d let a complete stranger restrain her. Alice had fallen down a hole into Wonderland; Abby had fallen into quicksand and was sinking fast. What am I doing here?

Xavier hadn’t moved, was simply watching her. “What’s the matter, Abby?”

“I don’t know you at all. You’re talking about…” Nipple clamps. “I don’t know you.”

“I see.” His hand was still curved around her upper arm as he moved closer. With his fingers under her chin, he lifted her face and gave her a light kiss. His lips were firm but velvety. Gentle. How could someone with such a merciless face kiss so sweetly?

When he lifted his head, she whispered, “Why did you do that?”

His aftershave was totally masculine with a hint of the exotic, like a pirate who’d visited India. He rubbed his thumb in a circle over her cheek, his lips only an inch from hers. “Because I can,” he whispered back. Then he smiled. “Because I’m going to be touching you much more intimately in a moment.”

Heat roared through her at the thought of his hands…elsewhere.

“Think of this as an introduction. I’m Xavier.” He covered her mouth with his, and it wasn’t a gentle, sweet kiss any longer. He took her lips, demanding a response. When she pulled at the restraints and gasped, his tongue swept in. She couldn’t move, couldn’t escape, and…

He stepped back, grasping her arms to keep her steady. Ravished by only a kiss, she stared at him. Her lips felt swollen, and she ran her tongue over them.

A flicker of heat lit his eyes, followed by amusement. “Are we better acquainted now?”

Her voice came out sounding as if he’d strangled her instead of kissing her. “Yes, my liege.” If he introduced himself like that at a faculty party, the floor would be littered with swooning academics.

“Very good.” With far-too-competent hands, he undid the first hook on her corset. As he worked his way down, his long fingers brushed the skin between her full breasts. Each undone fastening exposed more of her body, and coolness wafted over her damp flesh. When he finished, he set the corset to one side, leaving her bare from the waist up.

She bit her lip. Really, this is nothing. In France, beaches were filled with women wearing no tops. Not that she had joined them, but… She took a mental step back. Observe. With a determined breath, she checked out a noisy spanking in the center of the room.

A warm hand cupped her breast.

She jumped, tried to pull away. “What are you doing?”

He grasped her arm with his other hand, holding her in place. “Did you think you could get clamps without being touched by the Dom?” Even as he spoke, he stroked her breasts, one then the other. His palm was calloused, slightly abrasive. His thumb circled the areola, and her nipple bunched hard enough to create an ache.

She tried to dissociate, to observe the other scene.

“Eyes on me, Abby.” The softness of his voice didn’t negate the command.