Page 29 of Scarlett Thief (Criminal Underground 2)

I'd stayed up late reading those dollar store BDSM romances women raved about online. I'd researched the sites. I'd even found some of the philosophical aspects of the lifestyle in my search. I'd never understood before how any woman could be happy or even turned on by a man ordering her around. The second that phrase had come out of Wolf's mouth, though—good girl—I'd felt a small thrill inside. For a brief moment, I'd felt like I'd won something. His praise.

That was fucking ridiculous. I didn't want his praise. I was his partner, not his damn submissive. This wasn't real. I needed to remember that. My thoughts were an out of control riot, but they calmed as seconds ticked by and then minutes. One of his hands rested against my back, his skin against mine and the other over my thigh. His thumb stroked my skin back and forth ... back and forth. It was driving me insane. I couldn't think when he did that. I couldn't focus.

The men were talking. They were saying something. This was a job. I needed to be listening, but my body was only focused on one thing. How fucking close Wolf's hand was to my pussy.

After a while, one of the men alongside Mare got up and left. "Where's he going?" Hadrian asked.

"Jensen's gonna go set up for us," the man who held Mare in his lap answered—Ian she had called him. "We're here in Italy for as long as you need us, and we thought we'd make a vacation out of it. Mare's gotten used to doing scenes at the clubs now. She likes it. Isn't that right, baby?" He turned his head down to Mare's upturned face.

Mare smiled. "I like anything you do to me."

He dropped another kiss on her head before returning his attention to the others. I watched the two of them, curious. There were rare couples I'd seen before—couples who were well and truly in love, who no amount of sexual favors, money, or anything else could convince them to betray those they cared about. I had the feeling that these people were that kind of … well, couple wasn't exactly the right word, but they fit the bill.

"Would you mind a few onlookers?" Wolf asked, making me sit up straighter in his lap.

"Not at all." Ian's eyes found mine, but he continued talking to Wolf as he examined me. Behind the affection he obviously felt for the woman currently purring in his lap, his eyes were those of a predator. He watched me with a sharp instinct, letting me know that he knew exactly what I was. Suddenly, I didn't feel so comfortable anymore. If this Ian person could give us information on the Prince of Naples, what else could he find out? "We're heading over now. Stage seven."

Ian's eyes left mine, and I sagged back against Wolf, feeling as though I'd been released from some sort of tether. I watched as he gently lifted Mare off his lap and onto her feet. Next to him, she looked tiny. It was difficult to reconcile the fact that she controlled one of the most dangerous mafia families in the northeastern region of the United States with who she was here. Here she wasn't a Mafia Queen with ties to some of the worst criminals the world had seen. Here she wasn't a woman who had ruthlessly had her father ousted and then taken the reins of his empire less than three months ago. She was just a woman, a submissive, preparing to give her Dom a night of heaven and hell.

"Let's go, baby." Ian took her hand and led her out onto the floor.

Wolf shifted under me, distracting me as he, too, urged me off his lap. "Come on," he said. "We're going with them."

"What?" I blinked at him. "Why?"

"Scarlett." His voice deepened, growing darker. "If you're going to be here, as you wanted to be, you'll need to stop questioning me."

"I just asked—"

"Do you need to say your safeword?" he demanded.

"What? No!"Why is he being such an ass about it? Why can’t he just tell me—

"Good, then I'm putting you in high protocol," he said. "No more questions. No more words."

My jaw dropped. High protocol. I'd read that in the contract before I'd been admitted entrance to this club, but I hadn't ever actually thought he'd pull that card. High protocol meant submissives completely depended on their dominant partners—and for Wolf, it meant no talking unless I was asked a direct question. Fury turned my skin hot. I closed my mouth and ground my teeth together as I clenched my fingers into fists. If I talked now, I'd have to leave. I'd given him my agreement to the contract. I could say fuck him and walk out. The fact of the matter behind every BDSM encounter—the reality was that the sub held all of the power in the exchange, she merely lent it to her partner, her Dom. It didn't feel like that right now. Knowing that I could safeword out and leave made me feel in control but at the same time out of control.

I didn't want to leave. I was curious, and as Wolf moved to the side and held his hand out for mine, I guessed that the bastard knew it. He'd felt my reaction to Ian's words. I wanted to see this 'scene' they were going to do. I wanted to experience it for myself. I was all about experiencing new things. I'd done a lot of things, given a lot away in the name of gaining power, control, money, things that I wanted. I was doing the same thing here. Everything in life was a power exchange and this was no different.

Just stop thinking,I told myself as I stared down at Wolf's offered hand.You're here already.

My palm lifted and I rested it against his, letting his fingers curl around my hand as he tugged me forward. We strode out of the little cove we'd carved out for ourselves on the floor, but when I realized Hadrian wasn't following us, I paused and turned back. Wolf's hand left mine and then cupped my sides as he forcibly pushed me in front of him.

"Don't worry about him," he said, lowering his head to my ear. "He's working."

Working?I thought briefly, but then with a sharp inhale, I understood what had happened. Taking me to witness Mare’s scene with Ian was a means to an end. Hadrian had been left with the last man in Mare's little harem. They were getting down to business. The exchange was happening and he wouldn't be comfortable if people he didn't know and trust were there—aka me. It was understandable, but I had the feeling that had I not come—Wolf would've been back there too. He was just a distraction for me. I'd thought he and Hadrian didn't get along, but the truth was much more profound—they still saw each other as partners. I was the only wild card.

Feeling much colder than before, I let Wolf lead me and usher me through to the club floor. The sights and sounds of the activities around me didn't faze me as much as they had before. I wasn’t focused on it anymore. The one time I’d worked with a team had ended in a shitshow. There was a reason why I didn’t do it anymore. I hated feeling as though I was on the outside looking in—it gnawed at me like an angry, hungry cat scratching and clawing, begging for some scrap of affection. It was the same feeling that had grown with me from when I’d been a little girl, constantly on the move—in and out of schools as my father chased con after con after con. I’d used the skills he’d taught me to become the best, and so long as I worked alone, I continued to believe I was the best. If I stayed with Wolf and Hadrian for too long, I had the sinking suspicion that more things would begin to change.

“Stop.” Wolf halted my further movement as we stood amid a gathering crowd, and when I saw the three people on the stage, my lips parted in light surprise.

Mare had been stripped of her lingerie and now lay face-down on a spanking bench. She seemed comfortable there. Not at all afraid as the man who’d left early—Jensen—wound a jute rope around her arms and legs and middle, tying her to the bench. Her head turned from one side to the next as she followed him with her eyes, adoration shining in their depths. When he was down, he slid his hand into her hair and leaned down for a brief kiss. He said something against her mouth that had her smiling and then he was stepping back and moving to the side of the stage to make way for Ian.

Tall. Commanding. Far too intelligent. Ian had removed his vest and now stood bare chested in nothing but his leathers. Like Wolf, he had the body of a god, and right now, that god was bent on torturing his wife.

“Do you see her pussy?” Wolf asked, keeping his voice low.

I stiffened, unsure if his question meant I was allowed to answer. My eyes lifted back to the stage as someone turned on some music—it had a comfortable rhythmic beat. Mare sighed as she relaxed into position. I licked my lips as I followed Wolf’s attention and looked at her pussy. With her legs spread and her ass pointed out toward the onlookers gathering at the front of the stage, it was hard to miss.

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