“Will you ever speak to the lady like that again?” He gives him another shake.

  “No,” the guy says. “Let me go!”

  “I think it’s time for you to go home,” Tobias says. “Liam, escort him?”

  “Happily,” Liam says, dragging the guy away from the bar by his collar.

  They’re gone. I look to Tobias and Travis.

  “Thanks, guys,” I say.

  Travis jerks his chin up, then goes to the other side of the bar to take drink orders. Tobias turns to me.

  “Good man, Liam,” he says. That’s when I remember that Liam and Tobias are long-term friends.

  “I forgot you knew each other,” I say. I have so many questions I want to ask, but I don’t want to pry.

  “Yeah, we go way back,” Tobias says, taking another sip from his drink. Turning away from me, he frowns at the growing crowd in the room. “No chance you’re game for a demo, Cora?” He’s half-joking but seems nearly desperate. “Can’t believe I can’t find a single woman to bottom for Liam Alexander. And the payout’s not bad, if I don’t say so myself.”

  “So, um, what’s the payout?” I ask.

  Tobias tells me and I nearly drop the glass I’m holding. “For real?”

  “For real.”

  “Well, shit,” I mutter, wiping down the counter. “If I didn’t have to work tonight, I would so do it.”

  What did I just say? What the hell is wrong with me? I start wiping the counter at a breakneck speed.

  “That’s not a problem,” Tobias says. “I can cover this shift during your demo. Hell, I’d love it if you’d demonstrate with him. Then we wouldn’t have to disappoint anyone, and I know you’re levelheaded enough you won’t ruin the scene.”

  Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  Better than being his sub.

  One scene? That I can do.

  I’m insane.

  “Who’s ruining the scene?” Liam joins us at the bar again, looking at Tobias, not me.

  “No one,” Tobias says. “In fact, we’re all set. Cora’s agreed to demo with you.”

  I swear I shiver when he swivels those fierce eyes of his back to me.

  “Um,” I mumble, before I lose my resolve. “I… I’ve just agreed to do the demo with you.” Right. Tobias just said that. I’m brilliant.

  Like, don’t you even think I’m taking you up on that proposition, mister.

  He eyes me so coldly, I fear he’ll reject me, and suddenly the knowledge that he can makes my heart hurt a little.

  “Sounds good,” he says, his face impassive, save the faintest little twitch in his jaw. “But first, we talk in my private room.”

  “Um, sure?”

  I move without really thinking, stepping away from the bar, suddenly not so sure about this decision. Liam grasps my elbow firmly, marching me away from the bar to the private rooms down the hall. Is he angry? What the hell?

  To my right, I hear the sound of people in the dungeon, but everything seems so far away and muted, as my blood pounds in my ears. I’m so wound up, suddenly nervous as fuck.

  I just agreed to let Liam flog me? In front of a room full of people? The look on his face and grip on my arm tell me that just royally pissed him off.

  Good.

  Jerk.

  He sticks a key into a navy-colored door, opens it, and practically shoves me in, slamming the door shut behind him.

  “Liam, what are you—?” But I don’t get any further, because in one rapid tug, he shoves me up against the wall, caging me in with an arm on either side of me. My heart stutters in my chest with the way he’s looking at me, like he wants to rip me apart with his bare hands. Damn, he smells good. It isn’t even fair. Those sapphire eyes are alight with fire, and he’s breathing heavily, as if he’s trying to keep himself in check.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?” he asks in a growl.

  “What are you doing?” I try to shove him off me, but he’s big and strong and it’s like trying to move a brick wall.

  His strong fingers grasp my chin so I can’t look away. “I don’t play games, Cora,” he says, “I do not play games.”

  “I don’t— I didn’t mean—”

  And then his mouth is on mine, and I can’t think straight, can’t move, because I’m immobilized. I’m losing control of my body because my knees are buckling, but he’s holding me against him, so hard and yet so gentle all at the same time. The kiss is punishing, bruising my lips with its intensity. His fingers rake through hair, a delicious, erotic tug, and my mouth opens further for him.

  I moan with the loss when he pulls his mouth off mine and whispers in my ear. “No fucking games, Cora.”

  “No games,” I promise. “It’s just one night.”

  He nips my ear then pulls the lobe between his teeth and suckles. Shivers race up and down my spine.

  “Then why did you say yes, if not to fuck with me? To tease me with what I can’t have?” He towers over me, and with me pinned against the wall, I feel the size difference between us so keenly. His eyes blaze into mine like blue fire, the heat skating down my whole body and thrumming between my thighs.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head at him. “I didn’t do that. I wouldn’t. God, Liam, why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know,” he says. “Why would you? If you didn’t do it to get back at me, why did you agree?”

  I swallow hard, tamping down my pride. It matters to me that he doesn’t think I’m playing him. I value authenticity. So, I give him the truth.

  “I need the money,” I say in a small, trembling voice, so mad at myself that I can’t keep my shit together. “I… I’m behind on rent. Any minute now, they’ll shut off our electricity. And I need a new damn phone after those jerks busted mine.”

  “I offered you money,” he counters. “And you were too damned proud to take it.”

  “You didn’t offer me money. And it wasn’t pride,” I protest. “It’s… more than that.”

  Was it?

  A knock sounds at the door before he gets a chance to reply.

  “Liam? Time for the demo.” Sounds like Braxton.

  “We’ll be right there.”

  He grasps my chin between his index finger and thumb. “Club safeword, babe,” he says, but the babe rings with sarcasm.

  “Oh, I know the safeword,” I tell him. “Loud and clear, babe.”

  The sadistic grin he gives me makes me inwardly groan.

  Oh, so smart, mouthing off to the man who’s about to whip your ass.

  Eight

  Liam

  If she had any idea how badly I can’t wait to flog her sweet, saucy little ass, she wouldn’t be throwing sass at me like confetti.

  The nerve of the woman scorning my proposition, then pairing up with me for a demonstration I can’t get out of.

  Lucky for her, it’s just the flogger and not a more intense implement, but hell if she doesn’t she need a harder implement. I’ve never met a more obstinate woman in my life.

  Still. I’ll control this scene. And I can have fun with the flogger.

  “Should I get dressed into something else?” she asks, suddenly paling when I take her by the hand.

  “You’ve got something to change into?” I ask.

  “Well. Um. No,” she says.

  I don’t want her to think I’m laughing at her, so I keep my face straight. “Well, then, I don’t think that’s an option.” I like holding her little hand in mine as we walk toward the demo area. “And there’s no fucking way I’m doing this scene with you naked.” I’d kill any motherfucker who laid eyes on her naked. God, what am I doing? I want to haul her ass back to my room and lock the door.

  “I look silly, though,” she protests.

  I give her a sidelong glance. “You look beautiful.” And she does, with her gorgeous vibrant hair, vivid eyes, pale, freckled cheeks, and lips still swollen after that kiss I gave her. What I would give to explore every inch of those beautiful curves of hers.

  As soon as I tell her she’s beautiful, I regret it. God, what is my problem? She is nothing at all like what I want in a woman. She’s nothing but trouble. But damn if I can’t get this girl out of my mind.

  “Okay, guys,” Brax says, standing by as tonight’s dungeon monitor. “Let’s go over the rules.”

  I feel Cora tense beside me, so I squeeze her hand but keep my eyes fixed on Brax.

  “Cora, club safeword?”

  “Apple,” she says.

  Brax nods. “When scening at Verge, we insist couples begin with a safeword of their own, or at least a discussion of the club safeword. Everyone know what that is?”

  A loud chorus of, “Apple” goes up and someone whines, “Aw, man, just when things were getting fun.”

  Brax smiles but shakes his head. “We can laugh about it, but it’s no joking matter. Sometimes in the middle of a scene, emotions run high. Even with someone you trust, sometimes things can get a little too heated in the moment. A safeword doesn’t always have to mean a scene ends, but it can be a pause so that the people scening can communicate. Safewording isn’t something anyone should be ashamed of.”

  People nod all around the room. I watch Cora’s reaction. She doesn’t make eye contact with me, and her hand is cold in mine, trembling a little. I hope Brax finishes up soon, before she loses her resolve.

  I give Brax a chin lift, a silent, “Finish it up, man.”

  “Okay, take the floor, Liam.”

  It’s unusual for me to do anything like this, to put myself in the spotlight. As a businessman, I like to keep things private. I never scene here without a mask, but tonight, I’m feeling reckless. Maybe it’s because she ran out on me and it angered me. Or maybe it’s because I think she’s afraid, and I don’t want to give in to my own fears. To somehow show her that there’s nothing to be afraid of.

  Or maybe I don’t want anything between the two of us when I take these strips of leather to her ass.

  Brax steps to the side, and I take Cora in one hand and the flogger in another. Standing in front of the crowd, I take her chin between my fingers and lift her eyes to mine.

  “What’s your safeword, sweetheart?” I ask, loud and clear for the room to hear, now that a hush has fallen.

  “Apple, sir,” she says like a good little submissive.

  Jesus, I want her. And I’m not above negotiations. So tonight, I’m going to show her exactly what she’s leaving on the table.

  “Good girl,” I tell her approvingly. “You know your safeword, and you know when to use it?”

  Nodding, she whispers, “Yes, sir.”

  Still holding her chin, I lower my mouth to hers and brush a gentle kiss to her lips, then whisper in her ear. “You won’t need to safeword with me, Cora.” I continue to whisper in her ear while I drag the vibrant red tails of leather over her shoulder, down her back, and across her upper thighs wishing it was her bare skin.

  I address the crowd while caressing the leather over every inch of her. “The flogger can be used to produce so many different sensations, from a tickle to a searing lash that raises welts. Some are more severe than others. I tend to like a moderate one, like this.” I hold it up to the crowd. “It delivers a solid sting, but it isn’t severe. It can be very sensual, and functions as an excellent warm-up implement for a session, but also suitable for a nice, lengthy scene. Unlike more severe implements, the flogger is suitable to be used over other parts of the body as well.” I dangle it over her shoulders then breast, enjoying the way she shudders, and when I get to her ass, I bring it back and flick her hard with it once, twice, three times.

  Cora gasps and holds onto me tighter, and a low murmur skitters through the crowd. “These are excellent for travel, and many can even be carried in a pocket. However, beware that these implements are loud.” I give Cora a smile. “And your submissive might be, too.”

  The crowd laughs appreciatively.

  Now it’s time to dom her.

  I step back and point the flogger toward the wall that’s waiting for us. “Flogging can be done with the submissive in pretty much any position. Tied with back bared on a St. Andrew’s Cross. Back down, breasts up, so you can flog her front. Over a spanking bench for a more thorough whipping. And because of the relative short size of the flogger, over the knee works as well. For tonight, we’ll have her present herself for her punishment facing the wall.”

  Facing the wall, her hands tremble when she places them palm down. Gently, I kick her legs apart and begin the lecture for the sake of entertainment.

  “Was it fair for you to raise your voice to me, little one?” I ask, pacing behind her with the flogger in hand, while I tap it on my palm.

  “No, sir,” she says with mock repentance.

  There are oh so many things she needs to be punished for.

  “Let’s see…I think we have quite a list of infractions. You’ve stormed away from me, mouthed off, talked back…”

  “I didn’t exactly—”

  “Interrupted me and proven my point with the backtalk.”

  Shaking my head, I rear back and swing the flogger through the air, giving her a good, hard smack. She gasps but keeps position.

  “Is that proper behavior?”

  “No, sir,” she says, giving me a discreet sidelong look. Her eyes are bright and curious. Leaning in, I take her chin between my thumb and forefinger.

  “What do you deserve for this?”

  “I… I deserve to be punished, sir.”

  “You do.” I take my position behind her and flick my wrist. The lengths of leather falls on her ass with a satisfactory snap. Addressing the crowd, I bring my arm back again. “You can administer tame strokes of the flogger. They work very well as a sort of warm-up.” In silence, I administer half a dozen gentler strokes, criss-crossing her pert ass. “Or,” I explain to the crowd. “You can administer much more punishing strokes.” This time, I bring the flogger searing through the air with a whistle, and I know I’ve met my mark when she cries out from the sting of the lashes. I pause, but she doesn’t issue a safeword, so I continue, slow, steady lashes of the flogger, covering her fully clothed upper thighs and ass with the firm, heated strokes.

  At twenty strokes, she’s relaxed, and is fully immersed into the scene, her eyes closed and her breathing slow and steady.

  “The varying strokes of the flogger are excellent for coaxing your submissive to sub-space,” I say to the crowd. “Varied pain and pleasure are what heighten the response that will bring your submissive to the edge of utter bliss. Start slowly, with gentler strokes.” I demonstrate. “Then harder, with a whip-like motion of your wrist.” A few more hard swats fall, but she barely flinches this time.

  In silence, I work the flogger, hard and fast, getting fucking hard at the sound of her little cries and moans. If I pulled down her panties and swept my fingers through her, she’d be soaked.

  “It helps to massage out pain,” I say, squeezing and massaging her flaming hot ass. “And it also mitigates any bruising. Sometimes, however,” I explain. “Submissives do far better knowing this is punishment, and there is no comforting reward when they’re being punished.”

  I shrug. “But Cora’s a good girl who just needs a firm hand. Come here, Cora.” I’m not playing anymore, and she knows it.

  Tucking the flogger into my pocket, she turns to me with wide, curious eyes. I cup her cheek in my hand and kiss her forehead. “You were a very good girl for our demonstration.” I speak louder, to be heard above the noise of the crowd. “Have you learned your lesson?”

  I know she’s acting. I know this isn’t really who she is. But when she lowers her lashes and nods her head quietly, I can’t help but kiss her once more. We’re not playing anymore, because now her head is on my shoulder and she’s wrapped up in my arms. I’m hoisting her into the air and holding her against me, her head falling into the hollow of my neck as if she’s meant to be there. She’s relaxed and soft, and feels nice nestled against my chest like this, and I need to get her alone now.

  “Any questions?” I ask. Cora sighs, her eyes closed, and doesn’t even register the sound of voices.

  “What types of floggers are the more serious ones?” Someone asks. “How do you know?”

  I hold the flogger up to show. “The different types of strands here—falls, they’re called—vary in length, weight, and material. Most floggers are made with leather, but some are not. A softer, suede-like leather will produce a gentler sensation, whereas harder, sturdier material will pack a greater punch. Keep in mind, though, that a flogger is a versatile tool, because unlike other implements, the sensation can be either whippy or thuddy.”

  “Whippy or thuddy?” someone asks. Cora burrows deeper into my chest. I need to get her out of here.

  “Whippy like a whip, thuddy like a paddle.” It’s a basic fact of impact play and I won’t offer any more details, because my job here is done. I don’t offer to answer any more questions either. “Thank you, everyone. She needs some aftercare and that I prefer to be private.” A tall, black-haired guy in leather is scoping Cora out, and I feel my body tense. I don’t want anyone else to look at her. I’ve marked her and made her mine, and the rest of them can go to hell.

  I turn my back to him and ignore the rest of them, marching with Cora in my arms like I’m carrying the victory flag in battle.

  Nine

  Cora

  I’m floating, soaring, as if he’s awoken every nerve-ending I have. This can’t be the cold, distant rich guy who’s been giving me shit. This is… this man is tender. Skillful. Somehow, bringing out the dominant in him has brought out the very best.

  I don’t want him to let me go. I want to stay like this wrapped up in his arms forever.

  “I’ll never fucking do that again,” he growls in my ear.

  “Do what?” I ask, but my words feel slurred, like I’m drunk or half asleep. The door slams shut and before I know what’s happening, I’m flat on my back and he’s over me, nearly smothering me, the scent of whiskey and leather and expensive cologne filling my senses. I blink, trying to adjust my eyes to the dim light overhead, but it seems too bright.

 

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