Page 35 of Sinful Palace

“Within reason. Obviously you can’t whip out a machete and start murdering people, but beyond the general ‘no killing or maiming’ tenet, there’s only one rule.”

“What is it?”

He hooked a finger under my chin, gently stroking it down my throat. “You have to ask people,” he said. “To watch, to touch, to fuck. You can’t just walk up and start doing whatever you want. Permission must be sought.”

“Does that apply to us?”

He smiled thinly. “You know I don’t need your permission for anything I decide to do to you,” he said, lowering his lips to the shell of my ear. Goosebumps exploded all over the delicate skin of my neck and shoulders.

My heart began to pound. “Wait… are we actually getting involved with this tonight?” I asked, my voice coming out in an anxious squeak as I waved my hand toward the outskirts of the room. “Like we did at the first Order party?”

His smile grew wider. More dangerous. “Why do you think I brought you here?” he said. “It wasn’t to stand by a bar and drink cocktails. If I wanted to do that, I would’ve taken you to one of the other levels.”

“But…” I shook my head. “Someone could recognize me. My family can’t take any more scandals right now.”

Logan laughed. “Do you really think I’d let that happen?” he said. “The beauty of this place is that all club and staff members have to sign an ironclad non-disclosure agreement before they even step foot on the premises. No one is allowed to tell anyone what they see or do here.”

I swallowed hard, still unsure. “I was told the same thing about the Order, but someone went ahead and revealed my confession anyway, didn’t they?” I muttered.

He tilted my chin up again, forcing me to look at him. “That was different. It won’t happen here. Look.” He gestured toward the other side of the room. “See that guy with your friend?”

I followed his gaze to see Myla standing at the edge in a black PVC dominatrix outfit. She held a crop in one hand and a chain in the other. The chain was attached to a bridle-like device affixed to a bald man’s head. He was on his hands and knees below Myla, letting her lead him around like a pet. Aside from the bridle and a butt plug with a long, flowing tail sticking out of the end, he was nude.

When Myla saw me looking over at her, she gave me a smile and a wave. Then she frowned at the man beneath her and whipped his ass, issuing some sort of rebuke I couldn’t hear from my spot.

“Do you recognize him?” Logan asked.

I squinted, trying to place the subservient man. Then my eyes widened. “Is that Spencer Ackerman?”

Logan nodded. “Yup. Do you think he’d risk coming here if there was any chance someone might leak this to the media?”

I shook my head. Ackerman was a recently-appointed Supreme Court Justice. His short tenure had been mired in controversy since a series of nasty accusations were made about him after the nomination. While the accusations had been found to be utterly false, the media still loved to roast him, and they were constantly searching for so-called scandals that involved him.

A few months ago, a newspaper had published an interview with a former schoolteacher of his from all the way back in the late seventies. The teacher claimed he was a problem child with a terrible attitude who liked to eat glue. It was a laughable attempt to make him look bad, but if that was the sort of desperation the media had when it came to smearing him, then there was no way something like this would be kept quiet. Not unless the NDAs here were as serious and binding as Logan claimed.

I’d never heard a single peep about Ackerman’s sexual proclivities, so clearly, what happened at Wonderland actually stayed at Wonderland.

“Let’s go,” Logan said, taking my arm again. My nerves spiked as adrenaline flooded my veins, and my mouth dried up. He was leading me over to a black X-shaped frame not far from the bench with the shackles I was staring at earlier.

“Arms up,” he commanded when we arrived.

I didn’t want to argue with him, not after I already made him angry earlier, but I was scared. Not because of the possibility of humiliation—we’d already established that wouldn’t happen—but because of the fear of the unknown. I didn’t know what he wanted to do to me right now, but I did know I didn’t want him to hurt me. Not badly, anyway. I certainly didn’t want him to tie me up and shove his fist in my ass like that poor woman I saw earlier.

“Do as I say, Willow,” Logan repeated, eyes narrowing.

I swallowed thickly and raised my arms, letting him cuff my wrists to the top of the frame. He used one knee to force my legs apart. Then he shackled my ankles to the bottom of the frame. I shivered despite the heat and energy coursing through me, still afraid of what might come next.

Logan stepped out from behind me and pulled a box out of his pocket. He opened it to reveal an oval-shaped device with a small curved protrusion on one side. A clit-tickler, if I had to guess.

Relief instantly flooded my system. He wasn’t going to hurt me. He was going to make me come.

He smiled wickedly and stepped behind me again, settling the hand with the toy near my lower back. His other one slid under the skirt of my dress, probing between my legs. He ripped my panties down in one quick movement, and then he pushed the ovoid device into my pussy. I was already primed from my earlier attempt at sex, hot and ready to explode, so the toy slid in easily.

Logan smirked as he stepped back around to my front. He pulled something else out of his pocket; a tiny black remote. When he clicked a button on it, the toy began to vibrate inside me and against my clit. My mouth fell open with a gasp as my body sagged against the cross.

“Thank you,” I murmured, eyes shuttering with bliss.

“Don’t thank me,” Logan replied, moving his mouth to my left ear. “This isn’t what you think it is.”

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