Page 1 of Disciplining Dana

CHAPTER 1

Dana

“What’s wrong?”

And that was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, in a nutshell. The one Dana Aziz had been asking herself for months—no, dammit, not months, more than a year!—now. The one that bugged her late at night when her eyes were closed but the vague, plaguing images still performed their ghostly dances against the back of her eyelids. The one that made her pause at the kitchen counter, coffee cup halfway to her mouth, suspended in midair while thoughts intruded to bring the world to a halt as she tried to grasp whatever ephemeral thing simply felt… off.

That had her standing motionless at the entrance to the dungeon of Bar Sinstre and not having a single idea what to do next.

Which was bullshit. Because she should know. She was the one who’d asked Kurt to bring her here. In fact, she’d insisted on it, despite his protests it was still too soon after the accident. She was the one who’d snapped that she’d be the judge whether she was ready to return to the club or not. And now, here they were—she in her finest kink-wear, Kurt looking all Dommy-yummy in the black suit she’d bought him two years ago in England. The one that complemented his sandy-brown hair and sea-foam green eyes so perfectly. And yet despite all of that and the entire array of bondage furniture and accoutrements the club offered spread out in front of her, she still stood frozen, unable to take the next step forward because…

Because… what? What’s wrong?

“Dana?”

Kurt’s lips were an inch from her ear, his breath warm, his hand lightly pressed into the small of her back. There was no compelling, explainable reason for the frisson of irritation that immediately skated over her nerves. And yet…

“Why do you think anything’s wrong?”

Kurt sighed. “Oh, c’mon. I can tell when something’s bugging you.”

“Nothing’s bugging me,” she grumbled with a glance over her shoulder.

“Oh, really?” He raised his eyebrow slowly.

Her irritation ratcheted up another notch. “Yes, really. I’m just… sore,” she said, looking forward once more.

“Well, that’s your own fault. You never should have?—”

Now she turned completely. “Don’t start with me again.”

He brought up both his hands. “Okay, okay… sorry.” He gazed at her for a long moment. “Do you just want to leave?” he asked as quietly as he could over the sounds of people engaged in sexual play that filled the room ahead of them. Sounds that on any other night would have—should have—thrilled her.

So why aren’t they, Dana?

“No!” Her jaw tightened, because leaving was the last thing she wanted even though staying seemed to only be making things worse. “I need…” She waved her hand behind her, trying to make Kurt see thoughts she herself was having a hard time articulating. “I need a distraction.”

“Well, that’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“Then do something!” Dana hated that her tone had any trace of the plea she clearly heard in it. Maybe Kurt hadn’t noticed…

“Alright.” Quiet. Patient. Understanding. “Let’s go.”

Fuck.

He gripped her arm, turning her around firmly before leading her into the room. At times like this, she craved his taking charge, and she both hated and felt grateful that was exactly what he was doing. Like so many other nights she’d spent with him in places like this—in BDSM clubs in San Francisco, Seattle, Montreal, Berlin, San Paulo, Bogotá, and a host of others—all it would take was one word and anything he was doing would come to a complete stop. And the times she’d needed to draw on that single word she could count on one hand and still have digits left over. She’d told him the truth; she needed a distraction tonight. She needed a diversion to drive away the frustration over what had taken place two months ago in South America. Something that would push back, even if only for the evening, the memory of those flitting demons that skittered just out of reach in the labyrinth of her mind. Thoughts she wanted to pretend she didn’t recognize the source of even though—despite her insistence otherwise—she absolutely knew she did.

As he strode across the room, he maneuvered her past the other couples at play. Past the woman bent over the spanking bench, her body bowed as her partner brought her hand down in rapid succession across an ass already fiery red. Past the man strapped to the St. Andrews Cross, his balls and cock caged, his Domme dragging the leading edge of a dragon tail crop down his chest. They wove through the crowd, and the further they went, the more curious Dana became because she’d had a fairly good idea where they might end up, and Kurt had already passed those places. Now they were almost clear across the room, and she had no idea what he was?—

Oh.

Kurt turned to face her, several heavy chains dangling from the ceiling at his back. “I’ll be back in a moment,” he said firmly, still gripping her arm. “When I get here, I want you completely naked.”

Ohhhh…kay.

“Yes, sir,” she replied quietly.

He let her go, and as he strode away, her mind raced wildly with questions.

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