Page 10 of Betrayed

Arriving at the agreed-upon time, at the reserved station, she’d waited, and waited. After twenty long, embarrassing minutes, shrugging off inquiries and pitying glances for the poor submissive who’d been stood up, when the dungeon monitor had asked, she’d had to admit that Reyn was a no-show.

Per club rules, she’d had no choice but to relinquish the station to the next set of eager players.

She glanced at her wrist out of habit. It was as bare as the last ten times she’d checked. Mari huffed a humorless laugh. A submissive didn’t wear a watch in a dungeon. It impeded cuffs and shackles, or a dom’s restraining fingers.

The thought of being bound securely made her body tingle with desire at the same time she fumed over being stood up. This was only the second time she’d scheduled a play session with Reyn, which was once more than any of her other play partners. They’d confirmed their session by email just that morning. Perhaps she’d misread the time, or maybe he’d become annoyed with all of her restrictions, like the others.

Whatever the reason, if he didn’t get there soon, she’d have to give up even after coming all this way. She hadn’t considered anyone else tonight and didn’t want to, not after the blow to her pride and because she didn’t feel like negotiating. It was exhausting and risky, a new dom always an unknown variable in her safe little world. Reyn was the devil she knew, and despite the sex being no more than mildly pleasant, he didn’t threaten to let loose the masochist she had constrained inside herself.

She began pacing again, along the tile floor just inside the dungeon doors. Vaguely aware it was heated for the barefoot subs’ comfort, confirmation that Club Decadence spared no expense. But the amenities didn’t impress her as they should, which was more proof that her coming here wasn’t quite right. As her agitation grew, along with it, so did her guilt and shame.

During the drive in, she mentally prepared—suppression and denial, two defense mechanisms she become expert in—and by the time she arrived, she was ready. With the delay, doubts resurfaced as they always did after, in between, and leading up to each visit to the club.

Mari scanned the crowd once more, feeling a bit desperate. Her determination crumbling, she seriously considered giving up, going home, and canceling her membership first thing in the morning.

With that the best idea she’d had all night, she turned toward the locker rooms to put it in motion.

“Marilee, a moment, please.”

She spun, hope blooming that the deep voice belonged to Reyn, but it died, along with her smile upon finding it was Master Dex. The next moment, her heart lurched. Why would he seek her out?

In nearly a year of membership, it had never happened before. She’d met him once for an interview prior to joining, something he did with all prospective members, so she’d been told. After that, she kept a low profile, out of trouble unlike many other submissives she’d observed. So why now?

A sense of foreboding swept through her, especially when she noticed the man at his side. Although they’d never been introduced, she’d asked about Master Arturo.

The subs in the locker room had practically melted while gushing over the newest single dominant. Yes, they went on about how good-looking he was, and his sexy French accent, which Mari had yet to hear, and his fit, muscular body which was “the epitome of strength and masculine grace,” as one enraptured sub had put it. But what made heads turn, attracting appreciative glances, both male and female, was the utter confidence and self-possession that rolled off of him in waves. Mari had watched as he roamed comfortably through the club as though he’d been a member for years instead of only a few months. On more than one occasion, she’d observed him interacting with other members, offering advice or demonstrating a technique to newbie doms when asked. And twice, she’d watched as he intervened with two hot-headed club members, tactfully setting things to rights before a disagreement had the chance to escalate.

In a short time, he was the talk of the club, respected by the Decadence Masters and club doms, and sought after by the submissives.

As for Mari, she avoided him like the plague, well before she’d heard the whispers about the new French sadist. All it took for her was to see him wield his bullwhip to know he was dangerous.

It wasn’t something she’d likely forget and since then, despite doing her best to be where he was not, he always seemed to be nearby. Front and center in a scene with another lucky submissive, or wandering the main floor silently observing the play. Each time she’d felt his eyes on her, they were as they were now, silently assessing.

Worried he would approach and offer more than she dared to accept, she had always looked away, or worse, she’d fled, finding some lame excuse to be where he wasn’t. Although she hoped she was more circumspect in her escape than to actually run away, she worried that wasn’t how it appeared to him.

Deliberately dragging her eyes away from him now, she refocused on Master Dex. “Is something wrong, sir?”

“I’m afraid so, Mari. Master Reyn called. He had an emergency at the hospital and won’t be able to make it.”

“Oh,” she replied with a sigh, relieved that it wasn’t something she had, or hadn’t done. The next instant, she frowned, remembering a comment in his email. “He said he wasn’t on call tonight.”

“Yes, and he extended his sincere apologies for that as well. He would never have scheduled something with you if he hadn’t been fully available, but evidently, there was a major trauma and more surgeons were called in. It couldn’t be helped.”

“How awful,” she murmured as the image of mangled cars on a freeway flashed in her mind. When it quickly transitioned to a familiar flower-strewn casket, she barely controlled a flinch.

Her memories triggered less often lately, but when they came, they were sudden and painful. She tried to mask her reaction as she shook it off, but Master Dex’s perceptive eyes narrowed. Before he could ask questions, she redirected the conversation.

“Thank you for telling me, sir. Maybe next time.”

With a nod, she turned quickly to leave, disappointed and unfulfilled as usual but now feeling haunted as well. Her first step brought her head-on with a broad male chest, standing so close if she leaned a fraction of an inch forward, they would touch. Although she hadn’t seen him move, she knew who it was, and while she told herself not to, some unseen force compelled her to look up.

The power of his gaze locked on her, sending currents of desire arcing through her. It was too much all at once, and she took an involuntary step back. Unfortunately, she forgot where she was and ran out of floor. Teetering on the edge of the step behind her, Mari flailed her arms, trying to maintain her balance. She felt herself falling until hands encircled her waist, pulling her to safety.

“Fais attention, chérie.”

Silky smooth, his cautionary tone needed no translation. As he looked down from his superior height, he didn’t let go, pulling her in a fraction closer until the tips of her breasts brushed up against the front of his shirt with each inhaled breath.

Mesmerized by his beautiful eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to look away. Not pale or dark like she’d thought earlier, the green was a mixture of colors falling somewhere in the middle, like summer leaves just as the season is waning and turning to fall. There were little flecks of yellow scattered throughout the irises and at the edge, a ring of forest green, so dark it appeared almost black.

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