Page 11 of Betrayed

They were stunning, and as she stared up into them like a love-drunk fool, the tiny lines at the sides that said he laughed often crinkled as amusement crept in.

She blinked once then lowered her gaze.

“Good save, my friend,” Dex praised as he looked on. “Mari, this is Master Arturo. I thought you two might get along. You don’t come to play very often, and I’d hate to see you leave disappointed tonight.”

She glanced briefly at Master Dex. The message behind his gently worded invitation and the doms presence was clear. The pairing wasn’t as much a suggestion as a directive.

Under his scrutiny, and that of Arturo, whose gaze she could feel on her face, his fingers flexing subtly on her waist where he continued to hold her, she mounted her weak argument. “It’s a three-hour drive, sir.”

“Which you made intending to carry out a scene with Reyn. Unless you’ve also had an emergency arise, time should not be an issue.”

She swallowed. For some reason, the master dom was insistent she have a scene tonight.

“Of course, you always have a choice, but I think if you decline, we will need to schedule some time to have a serious discussion about what you hope to get out of your membership at Club Decadence. Every few weeks or a once-a-month visit makes me feel we’re taking advantage and that your fees, which are nothing to sneeze at, have become more of a donation.”

“Do you have a problem with me,chérie?” Deep and resonant, his lightly accented English flowed over her like a warm, relaxing shower, his French heritage clear in his rolling r’s and soft v’s more so than his endearment.

She melted inside, never having heard such a seductive tone. At the same time her panties dampened with lightning-fast arousal, her lips became dry and her tongue stuck to the roof of her parched mouth. She would have swayed on her feet, if not for his firm grasp.

When she didn’t answer immediately, one arm slipped around her, anchoring her close while his free hand rose to capture her chin, angling her face up to his.

“Mari,” he prompted. “I believe an answer to a direct question is the polite response.”

Suddenly, she wanted to scream.Yes! I have a huge freakin’ problem with you.

But she’d been raised to be courteous, and after years of living as a lifestyle submissive, showing respect to any dom had become engrained. So she lied, in a soft, tentative voice, “How could I, when I don’t even know you?”

With his hand lightly curled around her jaw, holding her still for his scrutiny, he studied her at length. She returned his regard, feeling she had little other choice.

This close, with him exuding dominance from virtually every pore, it was no mystery why she’d been drawn to him even before she’d seen his face. He was overwhelming and while her body trembled with pleasure, clearly wanting to stay, her mind rebelled in near panic.

Yet, with his hands upon her, the heat of his body radiating to hers, she couldn’t run or hide. Nor could she escape with the Master Dex’s unambiguous ultimatum lingering over her head. And that is what it was, though he’d framed it in a pretty supposition. With an unspoken but strongly implied “or else,” it was a warning, as plain as that.

But hadn’t she decided not to return?

“Marilee, answering a question with another question is avoiding the point. I’d like an answer.” Arturo’s insistent tone, quiet, but with an underlying layer of steel, made her ovaries ache. This was half of what she was missing. That he was a sadist, too, brought it full circle.

“As would I,” Dex said a moment later. “Do you have a problem with Arturo standing in for Reyn?”

Short of defiance or using her safeword, she saw no out and shook her head, caving in the face of two purely dominant men like the intimidated submissive she was.

“Excellent. I see station four coming open, Arturo. I’ll have it flagged as reserved. Mari, we will talk soon, yes?” With that, Master Dex, powerful, confident, and having ultimate authority in the club, strode away.

Like Dex, she had questioned why she kept returning. Yes, she was a masochist, but for physical pain. She didn’t get off on an emotional beating and humiliation. She didn’t enjoy what the others obviously got out of the club beyond the scenes, and since she couldn’t allow herself to relinquish enough control to experience gratifying sex, let alone the orgasmic highs the other subs did, what was the point? It was little more than a temporary escape, a very expensive one at that, from a chronic situation for which she couldn’t seem to find a remedy.

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