Tormented Dreams: Club Risqué Book Seven Page 4

  She sure as hell hoped so because she couldn't remember the last time she'd been this attracted to somebody.

  The sad truth was that you came to a certain time in your life—and Grace knew this, first hand, because it was where she was, herself, right now—where the term 'left on the shelf' seemed to be regrettably accurate. It was nothing to do with looks or appeal or even age—well, maybe age, in an indirect sort of way. It was all in the irrefutable fact that by the time you reached forty, and let's face it, she was as good as there, just a few more months to go, all of the eligible bachelors had been snapped up.

  Looking around the club was testament to her belief. There were the baby Doms, all fresh faced and starting out, then there were the late twenty and early thirty somethings who had already started to pair off to some degree. There were the elders, experienced in the lifestyle and invariably all in committed relationships.

  And then there was her…single, a whisper away from hitting forty and with a body clock that was ticking loudly enough to scare most men away.

  She was doing well for her age, but she didn't lie to herself. Sure, she was no spring chicken, but she had very happily traded youth for experience. She had no complaints there. Experience won, hands down.

  True, there was a slight sag and softness to her breasts and a subtle roundness to her tummy, which hadn't been there once upon a time. Not that she was upset with how she looked. Another thing she'd developed with age was confidence. Grace knew she looked damned good, regardless of her age. But she didn't kid herself either. She was no longer as pert, perky and toned as she had been twenty years ago…or even ten. She loved her life, her pleasures, and her career, but the honest truth was that time was running away from her, and so was the opportunity to have the children she yearned for.

  She managed to put those thoughts aside, for the most part, and simply enjoyed what she had, because she knew she was blessed in so many other ways. But that damned clock was always ticking in the background and it seemed that the more time passed, the more aware she was of that hourglass through which the sands of time were slipping away.

  And suddenly, here was Xavier. A sexy, handsome, single man who matched her kink interests and was a similar age. Was it any wonder that she was already contemplating his suitability, not just as a sadist, but also as a baby daddy?

  Good grief! She seriously needed to pull herself together. She'd only just met the man and already, she was planning their future. Now, there was a sure-fire way to have him running for the hills. She needed to chill and get her head back into the present before he decided she was some kind of nut job.

  "Your club is very impressive," she told Xavier, taking a step inside the cavernous space so she could look around a little more.

  "It impressed me enough to convince me to become a member," he told her as they continued to look around. "I didn't used to be, before the new owners took over. I made a one-hundred-mile round trip to another club, much like you're doing. I have to say, it's great having somewhere local to visit, and the security makes me feel confident that I don't have to worry about being outed."

  Grace nodded, his words resonating with her, being close to how she also felt about her friends and colleagues finding out about her own very personal fetishes. She imagined that, as a doctor, Xavier must have equally valid fears. It was good to know that he had such confidence in this place.

  "I'll show you everything and then introduce you to a few people. We really are like one big family. The membership is so privileged that you inevitably get to know almost everyone. There are still the occasional guests, of course, but in general, we are a very exclusive bunch."

  A shudder of anticipation travelled through Grace. It was a bit like getting on a roller coaster, the highs, the lows, the exhilaration and that feeling of your stomach bottoming out. There were a whole host of new experiences to be had here, and she couldn't wait to try them all out, along with an exciting new playground full of toys and playmates. It was downright delicious!

  Xavier introduced her to several of his friends, the whip-wielding Master Jake and his wife, Cha-cha, Master Night, partner of Trinity, the club's assistant manager, whom she had met earlier. Mistress Erin, with her girlfriend and slave, Lucy, and finally, Master Micah, the club's manager and psychologist, and his submissive, Melody.

  As she expected, they were all early thirty somethings who had recently stared to settle down.

  There were a few singletons, Master Storer, a larger than life dwarf with an exceptionally acrobatic tongue and a rather lewd sense of humour and also Masters Flynn and Cameron, who were actively looking for a permanent submissive open to a polyamorous relationship, although Grace couldn't quite get a handle on whether they were gay and looking for a third or bi and looking for a female sub. If nothing else, then at least Grace felt like there were others whose search was likely as difficult as her own, if not for the same reasons.

  And amongst them all was Master X, as Xavier was addressed by his peers.

  Grace couldn't help but find her attention and speculation drifting toward him whenever she wasn't otherwise diverted. Was he interested in a relationship, or did he just enjoy the freedom and diversity of the singles lifestyle? Had he recently split from a wife or submissive, so that he was now back on the market, or had a similar set of circumstances made him commitment shy? Was he, like her, still on the search for somebody to share his kink, or did he simply enjoy playing the field?

  So many questions. She just hoped she had the opportunity to get to know him well enough to find out the answers.

  * * *

  Xavier was completely smitten. He knew it without a doubt. He hadn't realised just how much he'd still been anticipating her arrival. He'd been trying to play it cool, but now that Grace was finally here, he felt a lightness and a liberation from a gravity he hadn't even realised was weighing him down. Now he just had to judge things sufficiently that he didn't scare her off, because, in Grace, he could imagine the possibility of all the fantasies he harboured for his own personal vision of a 24/7 slave coming to fruition, and he was itching to find out whether they were compatible. The only thing that held him back from his usual forthright manner, was her seeming reluctance to become a member of a club so close to home. Well, that and the fact that she still wasn't completely healed from her previous scene. Even as a sadist, he had his own set of ethics and they didn't include flaying open old wounds.

  If her only concern was discretion, then he could have told her that she had nothing to worry about. Nobody here would out her because they all valued their privacy in exactly the same way. Still, he was wise enough to understand that she'd need to reconcile to that conclusion for herself. But he could help her out a little by having her attend as his guest. That would give her one more layer of anonymity until she felt comfortable enough to take things further.

  In the meantime, there was no harm in inviting Grace to explore some of the subtler alternatives to a harsh thrashing that a good sadist should be able to provide to those with even the most profound of masochistic tendencies. After all, there was definitely more than one way to skin a cat.

  And there was no time like the present to get started. In fact, he considered, it would be more unnatural and make things far more awkward if it was left to another time.

  Spying a free station, Xavier guided Grace toward it, trying to pretend to himself that he was no more invested in this submissive than any other he'd ever played with.

  "Do you have any objection to negotiating a scene between us?" he asked, nodding toward the open apparatus.

  He watched as Grace flexed her shoulders and knew she was considering the state of her current lacerations. Drawing up close to her, he grasped her chin firmly, forcing her to look at him and shook his head decisively. "Whether you would welcome it or not, I refuse to do anything that will exacerbate your injuries. If we play, it will be on my terms and I will decide what you can or can't take," he told her in no uncertain terms.

/>   Grace felt her nipples pebble as a tremor skittered all the way down her spine and pooled determinedly in her lady parts at the deep resonance of Xavier's voice and his firmly authoritarian stipulation. Was there anything sexier than a demanding sadist who was prepared to boldly state his due care?

  Her response was automatic; she didn't even think about it.

  "Of course, Master. As you wish." She dropped her head in deference, automatically dropping into a submissive headspace right along with the dominance in his voice, ready to submit her body and her trust to this man wholeheartedly.

  Xavier felt his chest swell as the dynamic between them shifted perceptibly and the air around them became electrified with the weight of anticipation. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to slow down and do things right, no matter how desperately he itched to get his hands on her.

  This was a ritual, a dance in which the preliminary steps were equally important to the outcome of a good scene as the deeds and the performance themselves.

  The relationship between a sadist and a masochist was the ultimate power exchange, and the only way it could be effectively engineered was on the basis of complete trust. Trust needed to be built and earned, and when two people came together for the first time as relative strangers, trust was fostered through care and negotiation. One misstep, and all would be lost and a trust that was shattered could never be fully resurrected. Not in this particular lifestyle dynamic. It was important to get it right straight off the mark.

  Settling himself into a disciplined, familiar headspace, Xavier asked, "What are your limits, Chiquita?"

  Grace drew a quivering breath as her entire body began to tingle in anticipation. She had known a moment of disappointment when he'd made it clear that he wouldn't give her the ferocious, relentless type of thrashing she so loved, but she understood the wisdom of his stance. If she hadn't been visiting this new club, she would never have sought another brutal session until her recent wounds had healed. She did have a modicum of self- preservation.

  Now, she found that her initial disappointment had changed into an eagerness to find out what Master X might have up his sleeve instead. He was an experienced sadist after all. She'd wager he knew a few tricks.

  "Since I am a masochist, Sir, I'm sure you will understand that my hard limits are very few. I do have some, though. I refuse to take part in scat or water sports. I have no interest in pet play or age play; they simply do nothing for me. And I'm not particularly interested in things like mummification, for the same reasons."

  Xavier nodded. "Do you have any limits on penetration of any kind or with me inviting others to join in?"

  The mere suggestion had her abdomen clenching with a need which arrowed straight to her pussy. "None at all. Toys, fingers, intercourse. It's all good," she breathed huskily. "I…" she paused and looked him in the eye. "…I also prefer to go in blind. I like not knowing what's coming next. I like the anticipation."

  Xavier's intense, nearly black eyes bored into hers and she could see the flash of desire that leaped into them at her admission.

  He inclined his head curtly. "Very well, sub. You will use the traffic light system for your safewords. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for all good. I will ask you to verbalise your colour occasionally throughout our playtime. Understand?"

  Grace nodded, her heart rate quickening. God, that distancing thing he was doing turned her on so much. Made her feel like she was a mere object, a vessel to be used for his pleasure. She didn't want soft and sweet and pretty words. Not here in the scene. She wanted to be used roughly and thoroughly until she was reduced to an aching, throbbing wreck.

  She couldn't explain it logically, and that was one of the reasons she so protected her anonymity. There were few people outside the lifestyle who would ever understand her needs. It was simply the way she was wired. It might be considered deviant and abnormal to most people, but this was her own, personal choice and it was nobody's business except her own as far as she was concerned.

  But that didn't mean that she wanted to try to explain herself or live with the consequences of her friends and work colleagues finding out about her fetishes. They might be her own free choice, but she knew damn well that she'd be judged—harshly—for her preferences and probably even spurned.

  Chapter 5

  "I need to hear you verbalise, sub," Xavier demanded, his dark eyes boring into her and sending a shiver down her spine.

  "Yes, Master," she replied dutifully, her voice husky and seductive. "I understand."

  He'd never specified, but the fact that Grace had chosen to reference him as Master rather than Sir had his already hard cock straining against its confines. It was a long time since any woman had excited him quite as much as this one. However, as experienced a masochist as she was, Xavier had the overwhelming sense that this little pain slut had quite a narrow view of the expanse of a sadist's repertoire. He had an idea that she saw things purely in black and white and was under the mistaken impression that the only way for him to please her to the depth that she clearly required was if he whipped her bloody.

  He planned to pull out all the stops tonight and show her just how wrong she was. His lip curled in unholy glee at the prospect.

  "Strip!" he barked out the demand, his gaze never wavering from where it pinned her so the reaction, which had a visible tremor of desire quaking throughout her body, had him almost groaning, uncharacteristically, in anticipation. Damn, but she was incredible!

  He didn't take his eyes off her as she slithered sexily out of her outfit, her high heels still on her feet, lengthening her legs and adding definition to her calf muscles.

  He had to steel himself not to groan out loud when she stood before him in a set of pristine, white lacy lingerie, the purity of which belied the truth of her naughty, lascivious core.

  Then she turned and remained facing away from him as she bent from the waist and shimmied out of the tiny scrap of lace that was her panties.

  Magnificent! Xavi knew it was all for show. All for his benefit. It didn't stop his mouth going dry as he thought of all the perverted scenarios he wanted to play out with this wicked little sub. He could keep her chained to his bed every single night because he had enough ideas to keep him going for years. It was that very thought that brought him up cold, nonplussed, and suddenly had him second-guessing his motivation. Had that thought really just crossed his mind?

  She must have him more on edge that he realised! He had never once wanted to share his day to day life with anyone. He was a loner and preferred his own space for the majority of the time. He had dreams and desires, of course. But they didn't involve a submissive ever being that close to him. The closest he had come to what he wanted was the six months when he had taken Fluff as his slave.

  While that situation hadn't been ideal, since she'd been in a completely unhealthy state of mind and his principal role had been to tether her to her feelings, through pain, to stop her from letting go of life, she still got down on her knees before him every single day, while he fucked her mouth. That may have been as intimate as they got, since her heart had belonged to someone else, but the rest of the scenario had been very close to what he wanted from his 24/7 slave. Someone who did as he said and followed his instructions…but from the relative distance of her own home, not his.

  Xavier was happy enough to tell himself that the reasons the situation with Fluff hadn't fulfilled him sufficiently was because of the absence of intimacy, either physically or emotionally.

  Now, he watched Grace with hooded eyes as she finally straightened and stood before him, gloriously naked with the shoes still on her feet. It wasn't his usual MO, but he was tempted to have her keep them on.

  Surely, this woman did indeed pull him in unexpected ways. He'd need to keep this new development in mind so that he stayed on his toes around her and didn't give in to unexpected whims. Right now, though, he planned to enjoy himself.

  * * *

  Grace had to hide a little smile
as she blatantly bent over in front of Xavier and anybody else in the club who cared to look. She didn't know quite what had gotten into her. She wasn't some lithe, nubile young girl on the prowl for everybody's attention and didn't normally act that way. But something sure had her laying it on uncharacteristically thick and making a little bit of a show of it.

  Usually, she was far more matter of fact, stripping down with no flash and fanfare as quickly as she could in order to get right down to business.

  Xavier, it seemed, brought out the quixotic and vivacious side of what was usually a rather more no nonsense, down to earth attitude. Who would have thought?

  She turned back to him and watched his eyes flare as she stood before him, naked but for the sky-high heels she was wearing.

  Nevertheless, if it hadn't been for that brief tell, she might have thought he was unaffected by her little strip tease, since he held his features in an otherwise impassive mask which was enough to get her pulse racing. Lord, how she adored a forcefully assertive Dom!

  Without another word, Master X pointed to the floor at his feet and Grace sank to her knees in front of him, dipping her head and adopting a classic kneeling position with her thighs splayed and her arms clasped behind her back so that her chest was automatically thrust out.

  She figured Master X would have been more specific if he'd had a particular presentation in mind and, in truth, there was still that imp inside her which wanted to continue to tease him with this rather more provocative pose.

  Xavier took a step closer still and grasped a handful of hair, forcing her head back slowly but inexorably until she was looking at him. Lust flooded her system and she could feel her already slick pussy starting to weep, she was so very turned on.

  God, this man could do things to her, with just a look or a gesture or the low velvet tone of his voice, that other men couldn't have done without having their hands all over her body.