She watched his fingers smooth over her arm and enjoyed the contrast between her pale skin and the glistening gold of the band. “I do. It’s less harsh than a collar. It’s feminine and yet there is power behind the symbol. I like looking at it and knowing it came from you. A collar just seems so . . . demeaning.”

“And the last thing I want is for you to feel shame,” he said.

“I’m hungry,” she said with a smile.

He blinked at the change in subject and then laughed softly. “So you must be. My demands have been great this morning and I’ve yet to feed you. I’m not proving to be a very good keeper, am I?”

She framed his face in her hands and lowered her head to his. Their lips met and melted together. It was she who controlled the kiss, and he let her have her way. When she pulled away, they were both breathing heavily, and his eyes shone with a heavy glaze.

“You’re the best,” she said simply. “I know I’ll never want for anything when I’m with you.”

He squeezed her to him and kissed the tip of her nose. “No, Serena mine. You’ll never lack for anything I can provide.”

CHAPTER 22

Damon hadn’t told her where they were going, only that they were going out after a quiet dinner at home. He’d chosen her outfit, a filmy skirt and sleeveless silk top, and instructed her not to wear a bra or panties. Then he’d ushered her into his silver BMW and driven away from his house.

A half hour later when they pulled through the gate of The House, adrenaline slammed through her veins. She glanced over at Damon, but his expression was unreadable.

As if sensing her excitement and her nervousness, he reached over and captured her hand in his. He gave it a gentle squeeze as he pulled the car to a stop next to the other parked cars.

“You will stay by my side at all times. Men will seek your attention. They’ll speak to you and flirt. You’re to speak only to me and to anyone else only with my permission.”

Her eyes narrowed as she stared back at him. The order rankled, and she suddenly felt like a child being disciplined rather than an adult woman.

He waited as if expecting her to say no, but she snapped her lips together and averted her gaze. This was what she’d asked for. He was only giving her what she wanted.

Damon stepped out of the car and walked around to open her door. She put her hand in his and stepped gracefully from her seat.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he murmured as they started for the door.

She smiled, her earlier irritation forgotten. “No, but it’s nice to hear.”

“I’ll be the envy of every man here. Your hair shines like a veil of black silk.”

“You’re no stranger to pretty words,” she teased.

“The words are only pretty when applied to a beautiful woman. With no point of reference, they’re merely words.”

“I find myself unable to argue with your logic,” she said with a wide smile.

He ushered her inside where they were greeted by the butler. Damon directed her into a small dressing room just off the main entrance.

“Remove your clothing. The only things I want adorning you are my marks of possession.”

She inhaled in surprise but brought shaking fingers to the waistband of her skirt. Yes, she’d gone nude the night of the auction, but somehow this was different. She was well-versed in what would happen that night; after all, she’d created that fantasy. Tonight, though, she was working from a blank script, learning as she went. It was disconcerting.

“Would you like me to undress you?” Damon asked. “You’re shaking.”

She shook her head mutely.

His gaze sharpened. “Serena, are you frightened? We can go home. Just say the word.”

No.

It hovered like a black cloud. She’d grown to fear that word and what it meant. It went deeper than denial for it was an end to a fantasy she was desperate to live. Not just any fantasy. This fantasy. With Damon.

She shoved the skirt over her hips, letting it fall in a pool at her feet. With quick, jerky movements, she pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it aside. A cool draft from the air-conditioning vent above blew lightly over her bare skin, and she shivered.

Damon fingered a lock of her hair, pulling it over her shoulder to let it fall over her breast. Her nipple, hard and puckered, peeked erotically from the strands.

He touched the nipple, lightly, with just his fingertip. A silken brush across the tip, but she jumped as though she’d been shocked.

“Remember your instructions,” he murmured and then turned to leave the room.

She followed him out and down the hall. They passed several smaller rooms where people mingled and enjoyed cocktails and conversation. She walked quickly so they didn’t have a chance to look up and see her.

Damon continued toward the stairs, and she remembered a similar walk just nights before when she’d followed her keeper to the large common room above.

Tonight that room looked nothing like it had the night of her auction. As they entered, she stared in surprise at the flurry of activity. Unlike the rooms downstairs where people were dressed modestly, the participants here were at various stages of dress, from elaborate erotic costumes to plain nudity and all shades in between.

Each section of the room hosted a different . . . fetish. It was the only word she could come up with, and she was sure she’d gotten it wrong.

Never before had she seen so much naked flesh and utter carnality outside of a porn movie. They probably wouldn’t appreciate the comparison, but that was her limit of experience in such matters.

“Would you like a tour?” Damon asked in a low voice. “No one here minds being observed.”

At least she wouldn’t be expected to participate. Damon had made his view on others touching her exceedingly clear. Armed with that knowledge, she nodded. Looking never hurt anyone.

The bombardment of erotic images hit her from all angles. There was a multitude of sexual scenarios, from a simple one-on-one couple fucking like bunnies to an outright orgy with no less than eight people joined like LEGOs. It all looked rather . . . bizarre.

The kink factor was high and there certainly wasn’t a shortage of shock value in the room, but it failed to fire Serena’s senses. All she could do was look with dumb confusion at the gyrating bodies and listen to the moans and cries.

And then Damon touched her. All it took was the soft brush of his fingers across her skin and arousal flared low in her groin. Her breasts tingled, heavy and aching, straining outward, seeking his attention.

“I am extremely gratified that only my touch excites you,” he said as he caressed one breast. Then he ran his palm over the other, plumping the supple flesh in his hand. The soft mound cupped in his hand, he brushed his thumb back and forth over the sensitive bud.

“Now come, my pleasure—and yours—awaits.”

As she followed him toward the center of the room, she saw others stop and turn around to stare. The sounds of pleasure ceased, and an eerie silence fell over the room where just moments earlier, the slap of flesh, heated moan and cries of passion had swelled and echoed off the walls.

A metal frame stood in the center of the room, and already a crowd has assembled around it. It was simple, and for that reason, she couldn’t discern its purpose.

It was unassuming, a rectangular piece of metal that stood upright, but as she drew closer, she could see that it pivoted, moving up and down so that the rectangle could lay horizontal instead of vertical and all angles in between.

A man in jeans and a tight T-shirt stood nonchalantly, his hand on the frame, moving it up and down as he watched Damon approach. His gaze swept appraisingly over Serena’s naked form, but a sharp look of reproach from Damon pulled him up short.

He offered a smile and nodded in Damon’s direction. “Your slave is up for games tonight?”

“My slave does what I tell her,” Damon replied evenly.

“Lucky man. Do you need any help restraining and preparing her?”

Serena glanced sharply at the man standing next to the frame. Restrain? Prepare?

Damon glanced between Serena and the unnamed man and then nodded. “Serena, this is Cole. Do as he instructs.”

Serena swallowed and stepped forward as Damon motioned for her.

“I’ll return in just a moment. I need to choose my equipment.”

Equipment. Restraint. She began to tremble, though she knew it wasn’t from fear. Excitement coursed through her veins along with a heady dose of uncertainty.

When Cole reached for her arm, she instinctively shrank from his touch.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said soothingly.

She looked around but Damon had disappeared.

Cole touched her arm, tentative and seeking to reassure her. She truly wasn’t afraid, but neither was she enthusiastic. Yet. Apprehensive best described the current that arced through her body like lightning.

She forced herself to relax and went willingly with Cole as he directed her toward the device. When he flipped it, she could see leather loops, one at the very top in the center and two at the bottom on either side.

“Step over,” he said as he gripped her elbow to assist her.

She stepped over the base of the structure and stood inside the rectangle, waiting for what came next.

Cole backed her toward the bottom edge of the frame where the two loops were situated. Soft leather circled her right ankle and then tightened when Cole cinched the strap.