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“Engaging in kinky things,” he clarified. “Like a scene.”

I didn’t know what to say. All of this was so new to me. “We don’t have to go in if that makes you uncomfortable.”

His laugh warmed me, and he gave my hip a gentle squeeze. “No, we are going in. Boy will get our masks and bands.”

The man nodded and opened the door for us. I hesitated for a moment, peering through the doorway. The entry looked dark, music echoing from within. Salt gave me a gentle push and I stepped through the threshold, immediately moving to the side.

“Is your name really Boy?” I asked the man curiously.

“It is right now,” Salt said gently. “His name is Boy. He belongs to his Mistress.”

“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have asked that.”

The man smiled patiently. “No worries at all. Welcome to The Garden. Thank you for being our guest. You’re in good hands.” His gaze flickered to Salt as the door shut behind him, and I could have sworn it was a look of lust.

Of course, I could see why.

I looked up at Salt as Boy disappeared behind the dark curtain. He looked at peace here, beautiful and strong, at home amongst the shadows and undertones of lust. He smirked and looked down at me.

“You’re nervous,” he said.

My stomach fluttered in response. “I am. I’ve never been somewhere like this.”

“You’re safe,” he promised.

“I know. I’m with you.”

His smirk softened and he hummed, sliding his hand into my hair and giving me a kiss. I melted against him, moaning as our kiss deepened.

A throat cleared, but he didn’t pull away immediately. He kissed me deeper for a few seconds longer before drawing back.

“Fuck,” I whispered, completely dazed.

That kiss left me breathless and aching for more.

“I see why you want the band,” Boy chuckled.

“She’s mine,” Salt said simply, taking a red bracelet from him, along with two masks.

“I have some forms for you to fill out,” Boy said. “They’re waivers and rules. If you have any questions, I’m certain Salt can answer them.”

He nodded. “Thank you for your service.”

Boy dipped his head and went back out the front door, his voice carrying as he greeted whoever waited on the other side.

“Hold out your wrist,” Salt said.

I did as he asked, my pulse racing as his fingers grazed my skin. He put the red band around my wrist, taking his time. Then, he held up a black, masquerade-style mask.

“There are rules in this place,” he said. “No photos. No filming. No sharing people’s information. If you see someone you know, do not use their real name if you approach them.”

I winced. “I hope I don’t see anyone I know.”

“Well, you can always ignore them if you do. You’ll be masked, so I don’t think anyone will bother you. And you’ll be with me.” He reached up and placed the mask on me, tugging at my hair until he let out a hum of appreciation. “Beautiful, as always. And I can still see your cheeks when you blush.”

I gave his chest a playful slap, but he caught my hands, bringing my knuckles to his lips.

“If you need to leave at any point, you will let me know,” he said seriously. “If anything is too much or makes you uncomfortable, you will let me know. And if something turns you on, makes you wet, you will let me know. Understood?”

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