Page 9 of Mark & Don't Tell

Even though he’s trapped, it’s not about the restriction. His face is almost peaceful, a little smile tugging at his lips as he stares across the room. I follow his gaze, but there’s nothing there. No, this isn’t about being contained. This is about freedom.

“This is amazing,” Jane breathes. “Okay. Mandy said there’s a back room with tables full of promotional products. Let’s get that out of the way and have some fun.” She gestures to a group of guys who are checking us out.

They’re attractive, but I find my gaze skipping around the room, searching for the one person I should stay far away from. My chest fills with disappointment, and I try not to let it show. Though I’ve tried to steer clear of love, my heart still clenches when I can’t find Mr. Tattoos. I’m a hopeless romantic.

But tonight isn’t about romance. It’s about pleasure, and I have a feeling Mr. Tattoo would ruin my life, and I’d gladly let him.

Jane heads toward the hall that’ll lead us away from the main space of the playground. According to the packet we got from Mandy, the club is five thousand square feet. Beyond the private rooms is what the blueprints called The Chase Space, and beyond that is the Torture Chamber. Seeing as I’m not into punishment or blood play, I’ll be staying far away from the chamber.

I pass through the threshold of the hallway and suck in a deep breath.

Holy shit.

Four

DARIA

I knew what I signed up for. I knew what I might see. Even still, signing a paper acknowledging my understanding of how a sex club works and discovering how it actually works are two different things.

The only light in the dark hall comes from the rooms, if you can even call them that. The glass walls of the first eight rooms don’t offer an ounce of privacy, and Jane and I aren’t the only ones watching. Not all the rooms are occupied, but a throuple fills the first. A man is being pegged by a woman with tight curls that bounce with every hard thrust, and any sounds of surprise are muffled by the cock in his mouth.

Skin heating, I stare for another beat before looking at Jane. Her eyes are wide and she swallows.

“Do you want to go?”

“Fuck no,” she says with a soft laugh. “You?”

“No,” I confess. It’s overwhelming but also...my attention strays back to the throuple. The woman is wearing a leather bra that is mostly just scraps of material. Her breasts spill between the leather, and the clamps pinch around her nipples. My gaze jumps to her face, but there’s not an ounce of pain.

She’s wearing a wicked smile and is relentless as she pounds into her partner.

“Let’s keep moving,” Jane says, tugging my arm. “Otherwise, we’ll forget all about research.”

Right. This is supposed to be research. Technically, observing is part of the research. Most of the products being used tonight were provided by Good Vibes. Including the clamps.

Maybe I’ll experiment with some of those. My nipples are hard beneath the teddy and bra, suggesting the mere idea of them is affecting me.

We pass by the open rooms and come to the first room where the walls are actually walls. The door is propped open, and Jane and I trade looks.

She hesitates.

“They said the products would be back here.” This time, I’m the one dragging her with me. “These rooms aren’t meant for voyeurism.”

Mirrors line the wall, and a half a dozen tables, covered by velvet cloths, hold a variety of toys. The group of guys from earlier brushes past me, and Jane bites her lip, shooting me a questioning look.

“We’ll catch up later,” I tell her.

Her hungry gaze roves over the guy with blond hair, whose finger is stroking over a flogger. She flicks her gaze to mine. “For science,” she says before sauntering over to the group.

They quickly close around her, their wristbands nearly identical to hers. At least they have the same limits. I scoot out of the way as she leads the guys from the room with confidence that even I envy. Okay, Jane. Go get some.

There are a few other people in the room, mostly couples or throuples or—quartets?—whatever. I ignore them and walk to the first table, eyeing the variety of floggers, noting that the one the blond had been eyeing escaped with him and Jane. I reach out and stroke one of them, admiring how soft the leather is.

Not hard and cheap.

Still definitely not my kink.

I leave that table and go to the next as people filter out of the room.

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