Page 9 of Reveal Me
Nervous hysteria threatens in my throat as I bend over and pick it up. She sticks out an upturned palm, and I hand it to her. Her sharp green eyes roam shamelessly over my bare breasts, examining them like I’m a prize pony. ‘He’ll like you. You’re exactly his type,’ she says after a long beat.
For some reason I can’t even begin to fathom, her statement pleases me.
‘Right, it’s showtime. Follow me.’ Her high heels click off the marble flooring as she marches down the corridor with my dress in her arms, stopping only when we reach another set of black tinted double doors, which are manned by two more bouncers with impeccable suits and earpieces. ‘If you want this gig, do exactly as he says. If you please him, he will please you—more than you can ever imagine.’
This is the most surreal night of my life.
She waves a keycard over the chrome lock, and the doors glide open.
I take a deep breath and step inside.
Chapter Five
SEAN
Low, deep pulsing bass notes fill the air, adding to the anticipation in the room. The scent of high quality leather hangs in the air, mixed with subtle notes of cedarwood and amber. From my position on the red leather throne at the centre of the stage, I survey the two women on their knees before me, both kneeling on crimson velvet cushions. One blonde, one redhead— both have their hair secured back in a low ponytail. The blonde, sub number one, is wearing a leather corset, which stops below her nipples, revealing huge, large breasts. A matching leather triangle sheaths her pussy. She’s barefoot and bereft of make-up.
The redhead, sub number two, has opted for a strappy leather body harness that crosses back and forth across her torso but covers absolutely nothing. She’s also barefoot, face down, eyes to the ground, waiting.
I glance down at my own attire—black suit pants and a black fitted shirt. Despite my kinks, leather doesn’t do a lot for me—unless it’s leather restraints, that is. Hopefully number three will be wearing something slightly more imaginative.
Where is number three?
She’s delaying everything.
The third cushion is ready and waiting.
The members are getting restless in their theatre-like seats overlooking the stage. Naturally, Larissa organised this evening’s activities in the Observation Suite. The ceiling features a rotating installation of chrome spheres that catch and scatter light across the dark surfaces, creating the impression of stars against a night sky. Discreet servers move silently through the space, attending to the members’ needs. I glance up at the familiar faces, friends, fellow doms—kinky, wealthy bastards, just like me. Some are dressed in suits and elegant dresses, while others have availed of the elaborate changing rooms and dressed in their preferred BDSM attire.
Finally, after what feels like hours rather than minutes, the black doors on the left side of the theatre open. As my eyes home in on candidate number three, my breath catches in my throat. She’s naked, bar for a thin strip of lace covering her pussy.
Fuck. Me.
Her breasts are pert, full, round, and utterly perfect. Lustrous, glossy ebony hair falls in loose curls over her flawless skin. An exquisite, diamond encrusted mask conceals the top half of her face, but there’s no concealing that she’s stunning. Blood rushes to my cock as she struts into the room in black patent peep-toes—like she’s goddam royalty.
I love women who ooze confidence. It makes it so much more satisfying when they submit. And this woman—she has it in spades. Mesmerising chocolate eyes gleam from behind two carefully cut out oval slits. The second they meet mine, an invisible charge courses between us. Furled nipples peak as she drinks me in. She wets her full, crimson lips, and I can’t help but think how fucking perfect they’d look swollen around my dick.
I beckon her to the stage with a single finger, motioning to the remaining cushion. Something like surprise flashes through her eyes for a brief second. Her stilettos root to the spot. Long, toned legs tense, like she’s contemplating making a run for it. The thought makes me want to laugh—mostly because I’d love nothing more than to chase her. And if I caught her? Well, she signed the paperwork… so she’d be mine to fuck whichever way I deem fit.
‘I won’t bite,’ I call over the low, sensual music, ‘yet.’ A titter of anticipation ripples around the room from the members.
I watch the column of her throat bob as she swallows, then finally, she steps forward. Her eyes hold mine—a privilege that she won’t necessarily be permitted in here if I choose her. Though the thought of watching those glittering eyes glaze as she comes on my cock has a certain appeal of its own.
I bet she’d be dynamite to fuck. She has a distinct look of defiance about her. And defiance isn’t a good trait for a sub.
I don’t like punishment.
I live for the toys, the power play, challenging boundaries and testing limitations, but I’m not a sadist. Yet, I have a feeling if I pick number three, she’s going to need a little discipline. Perhaps I could clamp her nipples and fuck it out of her?
She crosses the room with that same regal confidence she entered with, then steps up onto the stage.
‘Kneel,’ I command, eyeing the empty cushion.
She hesitates for a split second—yep—defiant just like I predicted—then drops to her knees, gracefully assuming the same position as sub number one and sub number two. Her eyes focus on the floor in front of her.
Perhaps there’s hope for her yet.
Dominic steps onto the stage and taps his microphone.He looks formidable in a midnight black suit that emphasizes his powerful build. His white dress shirt is open at the collar to display the dark outline of a raven and skull tattoo. Behind black-framed glasses, his eyes hold a calculating intelligence that makes him utterly lethal. He’s the only man I know who could charm a room full of strangers while simultaneously calculating how to eliminate every single one of them.
