Page 6 of Dominated

I’d designed it that way.

That was why when Bale Pierce had shown up at my Miami club, I’d noticed. It was impossible not to. A man with a face and body as gorgeous as his demanded my full attention. On his first day, I checked his membership, the credentials he’d provided, and the due diligence my team had conducted to ensure the information he had given was factual.

I just wanted to know more about this tall, built, muscular, seductive gentleman who was dripping with lust.

The truth was, I wanted to know everything about him.

And the more I watched him, the more I learned.

I was instantly mesmerized.

His first couple of visits, he did nothing but observe, standing outside the doorways, taking it all in, finding his place within this eclectic establishment.

On his third visit, he paired with a woman and took her into a solo room. Out of all the fetishes, all the desires, all the needs, he performed the only one I practiced.

Orgasm denial.

Any man, even if he needed a little help, could get you off. But it took a man with great skill to keep you from coming.

It was that build, that climb toward the most consuming feeling, that I couldn’t get enough of.

I had become obsessed with Bale.

Infatuated with his methods and his type of practice.

And on the Friday evenings when he was at the club, I made it a point to stop by the room he was in. I wouldn’t linger for long, just enough time to smell his sweat in the air, to hear his grunts in person, to swallow the steam I felt coming off his partner’s body. When I got home, I would watch every second of the footage—from when he discussed his plan with his partner to the moment he walked out of the club.

I would replay each scene.

Over and over.

I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what it would feel like if he was holding the flogger against my clit. If his strong, sturdy fingers were inside me. If his mouth was breathing hot air against my most sensitive areas.

I didn’t sway outside of Jacob and Luke—they were the only men allowed inside my room. They’d earned my trust. They knew exactly what I wanted, needed, and they didn’t cross any lines, nor did they expect anything from me outside of Lush.

I didn’t want them. I wanted what they could provide. And that was where things between us ended.

But now, Jacob wasn’t able to attend tonight’s session, and I was standing next to Bale, the man I’d been watching nonstop.

The man I was so physically attracted to that I was wet from his scent.

His stare.

His words.

The man whose hands already had a hold on my body even though he hadn’t touched me.

And I was faced with a question.

Do I bite his earlobe, or do I give him the code to my private room?

I took in his black hair and blue eyes, his sloped nose, and heavily bearded cheeks—characteristics that sounded so simple when spoken in my head, but the combination was far from that—and I leaned into his ear.

I had all intentions of nibbling it.

It looked too pretty not to gnaw.

But I was once again hit with the sultriness of his cologne, and it reminded me of sex on the beach. I neared the scruff on his cheek, and I wondered how it would feel if it just happened to graze my skin. I was reminded of his hands and his breath and his use of toys—skills I’d witnessed.

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