Page 8 of Tormented Dreams

The big man eyed Xavier's approach with a hooded look. The relationship between them was slightly strained, though they were both professional enough to be courteous about it. Perhaps that would ease in time, but the truth was, Connor still held a little bit of resentment regarding Xavier's relationship with Laurel, even though he'd been out of the picture, fighting his own demons, at the time. Never mind the fact that he was the one to introduce them in the first place. But it was water under the bridge as far as Xavier was concerned, and hopefully Connor would come to see it that way too, eventually. He and Laurel were happy together as a couple now, after all, and the pair of them had both managed to overcome the darkness that had seeped into each of their lives.

Laurel's reaction—or Fluff, as she went by at the club—was completely the opposite.

"Xavi!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up when she saw him. And although Connor had a proprietary hand at her waist, she nevertheless reached up and hugged him affectionately.

"That's Master X to you, pet," Connor reprimanded, giving Xavier a cursory nod.

Laurel just giggled and kissed him on the cheek. Xavier sighed inwardly. Yeah, his Dom card was really being shredded tonight!

Extracting himself with a brief squeeze before Connor took exception, Xavier turned to Grace. He took her hand in his own and, with a small, formal bow, kissed the back of her fingers.

"I see you've met my guest," he said to the couple chaperoning her, purposely not using her name since he had no indication,as yet, whether she would choose the anonymity of a club pseudonym, as many did.

Turning back to Grace, he flashed a genuine smile. "I'm glad you made it, Chiquita."

"Thank you for the invitation." Her honeyed tone had his traitorous cock twitching just like it had every other time he'd met her.

"I have to admit I was intrigued and couldn't turn down the chance to see what has been made of this place. So far, I've not been disappointed. It all looks amazing."

Xavier smiled and stole a pointed look at Connor. Like most, Grace wasn't aware that the big man was one of the owners. Then he crooked his arm and offered it to her. "Well, then, allow me the honour of showing you around the rest of the club."

Bidding them goodbye, Connor and Laurel continued on their way to the dungeon and Xavier directed Grace along the corridor to the next theme room, which happened to be the headmaster's study. There, a sub dressed up in a sexy take of a British schoolgirl uniform, complete with stockings and garter belt, was sobbing and screaming somewhat theatrically as she got the cane.

"Do you enjoy role play?" Xavier asked, noting the anticipatory gleam in Grace’s eyes as she followed every movement of the Dom's hand.

"I've never really had the opportunity to try it," she replied distractedly, her gaze still fixed on the implement.

"Is it something you might like to sample?"

Grace furrowed her brow but didn't turn away from the scene, and he thought he detected a small sigh when the cane found its target once again. When the Dom finally moved to provide aftercare, Grace wrenched her eyes away from the floor to ceiling viewing window and gave Xavier her undivided attention.

"I'm not sure," she replied, still frowning in contemplation. "It's not something I feel like I'm missing in my life. I suppose it might be a fun interlude if I wanted something different for a change, but in general, I like my slice of pain served neat and without frills," she told him boldly as they wandered across to the next window.

"A woman after my own heart," Xavier said lightly as they stopped to look inside the suspension room where Master Logan, another of the co-owners, had his wife, Luanna—or Serenity, as she was known at the club—bound in complicated Shibari work. He was in the process of suspending her rather artistically, one of his greatest pleasures.

"You're a sadist?" Grace queried. Had he detected the slightest breathiness in her voice, or was that just wishful thinking?

"Indeed I am. Master X, at your service," he said with a brief, formal bow.

"What about you? Are you an exhibitionist as well?" he enquired, the scenes playing out through the glass walls forgotten. "Or do you prefer privacy?"

"I'm not bothered, either way," Grace admitted. "I'm only in it for the scene, at the end of the day. It doesn't bother me to be on display, but it's not something I need to be fulfilled. Neither is a club, to be honest. It's just the only way to meet prospective Doms when you're single. I don't trust that kind of thing tointernet chat. I need the security of a respected club so that I can meet people who have been vetted, but I'm perfectly happy to scene in private once I'm comfortable that I'm in good hands."

"Very sensible," Xavier agreed approvingly. "I should have asked before; do you use a club name for anonymity?"

They had passed a few more theme rooms, the Sultan's throne room, the wet room, and the French boudoir, and had given each one a little time and contemplation, albeit cursory. But none of them had lit Grace's expression as much as watching the caning.

Now they were approaching the wonders of the dungeon. Xavier had an inkling this would prove a more interesting space for Grace.

"Actually, yes, I usually go by the name Gem. My initials. Not very original, I know, but it works."

"And it suits you," Xavier acknowledged with a small smile. She was certainly looking like a precious little gem to him, and he could only hope that the pulse of desire he felt thrumming through him was not just one sided. Especially when her reaction as they came to the entrance of the dungeon had his groin tightening even further, so his cock felt hard enough to pound nails.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Grace couldn't help the low, orgasmic sounding groan that left her mouth as she stopped dead and took in the wonders of the club's showpiece playroom.

Dear Lord, the place was a smorgasbord of kinky pleasure stations, complete with mood lighting and social areas where Doms and subs could negotiate or perform aftercare. An area where voyeurs could linger or where members could simply socialise. What a treat!

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