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  Although what she did dole out, he reminded himself, was pretty damn fantastic.

  When he looked up, he found her focused on him. He loved her when she did that. He’d told her that, told her he loved her. Like she’d said at the time, it was a compliment but it was also a response to his endorphin high. Now? Now he wanted to ask her out again, get to know her as a woman because he could see himself spending the rest of his life with someone like her.

  She watched his eyes, the furrow he felt between them, the tension around his mouth. Taking another breath, he relaxed his face, his entire body, then nodded. “I’m okay,” he said quietly. “I trust you.”

  Her lower lip trembled, once, and her expression softened. She kissed him and it was warm and intimate and tasted like passion. Her hand, the one not holding his nut sac, cupped the back of his neck. Gently, her fingers manipulated his muscles, teased the ends of his short hair, held him close while he breathed in her scent.

  By the time she let go they were both breathing hard and he knew his cheeks had to be as flushed as hers were.

  Then that spicy light came back into her eyes. The look that made his gut clench and his dick hard enough to smash glass. She sat up straight and proud, letting her breasts swell above the confines of her dress. Licking his lips, Rick stared at the soft mounds lifting to him in time with her breathing. Damn, it made him hot, knowing he’d be denied the pleasure of kissing those breasts. He licked his lips anyway, aching for a taste.

  She let him stare all he wanted without rebuke. When she started pulling on his testicles again, he shivered and gasped.

  Rick thought he’d go insane from the cruel, seductive rhythm she established. Pulling on his nuts almost to the point of pain, rubbing them against the warm, wet silk standing between him and paradise, then easing off and slapping him. Gentle at first, then her strikes came harder, then a little harder still. He didn’t know what was worse, feeling or watching. All he knew was he ached for release, wanted it so bad his teeth chattered, was so close to it precum dewed the back of Brenna’s fingers, but was denied even the briefest swipe and cock-squeeze to send him over the edge.

  When the strength behind her slaps faded, he groaned in frustration. Some part of his brain was still functioning because he knew it was time to stop. He’d lost control of his breathing awhile back, his balls ached so bad he was moaning and he was sweating up a storm.

  Good thing he did cardio because any more and his heart would seize up.

  Panting, he watched her stand, smooth her skirt then draw down two of those gymnast rings. Huh. The club had to buy them by the gross. Them and the pulleys hanging everywhere from the ceilings.

  Rick felt his eyes widen when Brenna grabbed the rings. It probably wasn’t by accident she’d positioned his chair directly beneath them. As always, the woman demonstrated her gift for thinking ahead. He held his breath and cringed mentally when she placed one of those sexy stiletto shoes on the chair between his legs. More nervous than before, he felt his anxiety ramp back when he realized she was looking at his face. It felt as if she was gauging his wariness. Maybe even waiting for a go-ahead signal from him.

  What the hell. It was only his unborn children he was messing around with. He managed a “Yes” but it felt stiff and forced.

  Pulling herself up with the rings, Brenna stood on the chair on one foot. Rick relaxed a little when he realized how coordinated she was. This wasn’t turning out so bad. There was only the implied threat of that sexy, spiky shoe sitting a few inches from his favorite body parts. Until she lifted her other foot and pressed the sole against his cock.

  Rick wanted to jerk away but knew better. That raised heel was hovering over his balls and nothing he’d experienced had quite put the fear of God into him like Brenna at that moment. Still watching him, still balanced and relaxed, she used the sole of her shoe to squeeze the length of his rod against his belly. Then squeeze a little harder.

  “Fuck,” he hissed then inhaled sharply. He had to master his fear. He had to. No Domme had ever taken him this far and she wasn’t even hurting him. It felt as if she was pushing every button he had, as a man and as a sub. She’d earned his trust, deserved it and he wanted nothing more than to please her. Swallowing, he forced himself to relax, to think past his anxiety, show her she could trust him as much as he trusted her.

  When he did relax, when his breathing leveled out, the pressure on his cock increased. She pressed harder, just a little at first. The sole of her shoe was rigid, unforgiving and just rough enough to add an edgy thrill to the feeling. She didn’t rub the shoe against him. That would be barbaric. Rick let go of his fear of being ground up.

  Some of that must have registered in his muscles or face because Brenna smiled at him. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered then lowered her heel onto his scrotum.

  Rick gasped and couldn’t help it. He felt the oh so small, hard rubber tip of her shoe press into his sensitive skin, separating his balls. They rolled out of the way as if they knew what was good for them. A little more pressure, then a little more. The hurt started so slowly he wasn’t aware of it at first. If she’d asked, he’d rate it as a one, then a two. He puffed out his cheeks, exhaled fast and did it again. This wasn’t about pain. It was about giving up control, giving himself over to Brenna, trusting her to take him on the hottest thrill ride of his life then bring him back home safe, intact, and so horny he’d never stop coming.

  If she ever let him come, that is.

  Grinning inappropriately, he fought back the fear narrowing his vision, breathed through the anxiety and laughed out loud when, finally, he realized he’d met her challenge and mastered it.

  Looking up, he fell in love with the way she smiled at him.

  Needing to thank her, he leaned forward, just a little. The ropes didn’t allow him much wiggle room but her pussy was hovering only a few inches in front of his face. Still looking up at her, still holding her gaze, he leaned forward some more until there was no way she could mistake his intent. Parting his lips, he waited.

  When Brenna nodded, he closed the distance between them. Openmouthed, he pressed a slow, soulful kiss to her mound. His lips felt the heat of her body bleed through her dress and his eyes fluttered shut as he absorbed the feel of her. It was so intimate it took his breath away.

  With his heart swelling, finally he leaned back. An odd euphoria filled him. There was a beautiful woman with her shoe on his junk, her other foot between his legs, and all he felt was warm and exactly where he wanted to be.

  Malcolm grunted again and this time it was so loud Rick and Brenna looked at him. The other sub was sitting up on the bench, legs spread, fist wrapped around his rod and pumping as streams of cum splashed his chest and belly. His head was thrown back, teeth bared, body and face taut.

  That fiery light came back into Brenna’s eyes but when she turned back to Rick that look was tempered.

  “Malcolm,” she said in the confident, authoritative tone that made Rick’s psyche buzz with anticipation, “stay where you are. And you’re not to clean yourself up until I give you permission.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” Malcolm said. He looked sheepish but sounded just as excited by her tone as Rick felt.

  Slow and deliberate, Brenna moved her feet away from Rick, stepped down onto the floor then untied him. He sighed and nodded his appreciation when she massaged his ankles, his wrists and forearms. She kissed his mouth, nuzzled the side of his face, stroked his chest then, with a seductiveness that made him clench his teeth, stood and strolled over to Malcolm.

  Picking up that nasty metal cane of his, she circled the bondage table. “Bad, presumptive sub,” she growled. Rick heard the slap of the cane against her palm. “On your hands and knees, bad boy. Look at you, covered in spunk. Did I give you permission to come?”

  “N-no, Mistress.”

  “Nasty thief, stealing an orgasm from me.” She slapped his ass with her hand, hard, then continued circling the table. “Your pleasure is mine to giv
e or withhold as I see fit. When we’re together, each and every orgasm you have or are denied is mine. Understood?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  Rubbing his wrists absently, Rick watched the tableau playing out in front of him with rising interest. He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Well, he leaned forward as much as he could without bending his rock-hard cock in half.

  “Lift your ass in the air,” Brenna commanded.

  When she used that voice, she sounded so completely hot Rick almost obeyed himself. Instead he watched Malcolm lower his shoulders, spread his knees and muzzle the sick grin on his face.

  She held the back of Malcolm’s neck, but not like she’d held Rick’s. She was pinning Malcolm in place, keeping his torso where it was before sliding the cane across his ass with cruel, seductive slowness.

  Rick held his breath as he watched her angle her body, raise her arm and bring the cane down across Malcolm’s upturned ass.

  The other sub shook then groaned. She hit him once more, then again.

  “Are you sorry for stealing from me? Are you willing to apologize? To accept my punishment?”

  “Yes. Please yes.”

  Malcolm was sweating openly now, breathing hard through his mouth. His eyes were glazed and his face flushed.

  “Two more hits will satisfy me, sub. Two more hits and your transgression is forgiven like it never happened.” The cane rose then came down. The sound it made as it moved through the air filled Rick with anticipation, dread and lust. Three thin, red lines now stood out sharply against the unnatural paleness of Malcolm’s skin, as if all his blood was pooling in a too-late too-little effort to soothe his wounds. The cane rose again, for the last time. Rick held his breath then cried out in warning when Malcolm lurched. It was Rick’s turn to be too late when he saw his buddy lift up on his toes and jerk into the final hit, throwing Brenna’s aim to hell and back.

  Malcolm didn’t moan this time, he cried out. The welt at the base of his back, just above the swell of his glute, was red and ugly. Before Rick had time to react Brenna dropped the cane. She took hold of Malcolm’s hips and guided them down onto the table.

  “Breathe,” she said. That same confidence was in her voice, only now it was quiet and persuasive. Calming. “Lie on your belly. Relax your muscles.” She touched his shoulder. “I’m not leaving you,” she said as she stepped away. “I’m just getting something to make that feel better.”

  Moving quickly, she jerked open the room’s back cupboard, revealing the tiny sink and the drawers she’d taken the ropes from earlier that evening. And she kept talking. “You’re bleeding just a little so I’ll put some antiseptic on you. Some ice too to ease the bruising.”

  That soft, reassuring voice rose and fell as she turned and moved. Rick watched critically as she snapped on a pair of sterile gloves, but she wasn’t doing anything he wouldn’t. Wasn’t going to use anything he wouldn’t. He might have gone to medical school but she was in control and capable.

  Brenna applied squares of sterile gauze to Malcolm’s back, drizzled some water onto them then added a row of ice cubes. “This will feel cold.” She covered up Malcolm’s legs with one of the blankets then kissed his shoulder. “Relax. Let the ice do its thing.” Strong, slender fingers massaged the backs of Malcolm’s arms, his upper back. “That cane sure can pack a wallop, huh?”

  Even Malcolm grinned at the tease in her voice. “I bet you say that to all your pain sluts.”

  “Only the really handsome ones,” she replied. She kissed his shoulder again then dabbed around the melting ice before it trailed down the sides of his body.

  As she tended to his buddy, Rick realized Brenna hadn’t said a word of condemnation. It was Malcolm’s fault the cane had split the top few layers of his epidermis. Brenna had held Malcolm down by pressing on the back of his neck but, despite her height, there was no way her strength could contain his. Surely Malcolm had known that.

  Stupid bugger.

  Finally Malcolm confirmed that his skin was numb. When Brenna removed the gauze, Rick looked to make sure the bleeding had stopped. It had so he kept his mouth shut as she dabbed antiseptic cream onto Malcolm’s stripes, taking extra care with the shallow cut across his lower back, which was actually quite minor. He’d seen worse scratches from a cat.

  Brenna kissed Malcolm, helped him off the table, even brought his clothes over to him and helped him dress.

  “Your punishment is over. Your transgression is in the past and forgotten,” she said as she zipped Malcolm up then caressed the outline of his cock through his pants.

  As she spoke, the tension around Malcolm’s mouth eased and an enviable contentment shone in his eyes.

  Holding his tongue, Rick rolled his shoulders then retrieved his own clothing.

  “Tonic water and cranberry juice.”

  “Make that two.”

  Rick turned to the tallish man standing beside him. Nodding in greeting, the man leaned an elbow on the bar then scanned the public playroom. “Harlan, isn’t it?” Rick asked.

  “Yes. Good memory,” the older man complimented him casually. “How are you liking the club so far, Rick?”

  “The facilities are the best I’ve seen.” Like the guy standing beside him, Rick turned his back to the bar to scan the Saturday-night crowd. The place was hopping. There didn’t seem to be a piece of equipment not in use and the sounds of leather hitting flesh, moans and grunts made his tender balls throb with lust.

  He checked his watch. Brenna had gone to the ladies’ to freshen up and he wanted to spend more time with her before she left. Malcolm was in the club’s first-aid room, getting a couple of small butterfly bandages for his back. Rick supposed he should have tended to his friend’s wound but Malcolm had seemed more than happy to follow a little Domme with a red armband and a big smile when she ordered him to.

  Mostly he wanted them to hurry up so he could turn his back to the crowd. It was irrational but he practically wigged out at the idea of somebody he knew recognizing him.

  “You and Brenna seem to have hit it off,” Harlan said. His voice said he was just making conversation but the set of his shoulders and the tension in his body said otherwise.

  “She’s a helluva lady.”

  “We agree on that.” When the bartender set up their drinks, Harlan raised his glass. “To Brenna.”

  As they drank, Rick felt Harlan’s eyes on him.

  “She’s a great ambassador for the club,” Harlan continued. “She takes new subs under her wing their first few visits before handing them off to one of the other Dommes. She’s shown you some of the rooms, right? Some of what the club has to offer?”

  “Um…” Rick let his voice trail off. Whatever this guy’s agenda was, Rick was sure he didn’t want to be part of it.

  “She’s one of the members who makes this place terrific. Makes sure new members are comfortable before letting them loose in general population—so to speak.” He laughed at his own joke.

  Rick couldn’t discern any genuine humor in the sounds Harlan made.

  “Of course, I’ve known her for years. I love how…invigorated she is when she comes back after showing a new member the ropes.”

  To keep from saying something harsh, Rick swallowed the last of his drink. Harlan was delusional, or a passive-aggressive punk, despite his age. Either way, it hadn’t been him Brenna had accepted a date with tonight and she sure hadn’t given any indicators she was interested in playing with anybody other than Rick.

  Well, him and Malcolm.

  Whatever. Harlan wasn’t worth Rick’s time. He figured by the way Harlan’s mouth thinned, the man could read Rick’s reaction.

  Rick nodded, set his glass down, ordered three more and turned his attention back to the playroom. “Like I said. She’s a helluva lady.”

  When the bartender set out three fresh drinks, Harlan’s brow furrowed. “Thirsty?” he asked with a not-so-subtle touch of derision.

  “For me…” Rick nodded
toward the back of the playroom, “and my friends.” He felt a broad smile shape his face when he spotted Brenna heading for him. Malcolm came out another hallway and quickly caught up to her.

  “Brenna. My darling.” Harlan stepped forward and intercepted her. “You look beautiful tonight.”

  Rick had to hand it to the guy. He was quick. Harlan took Brenna’s hand and kissed it. He might be a charmer but he hadn’t put the color in Brenna’s cheeks, or that lightning flash of lustiness in her eyes.

  “Harlan.” Her greeting was polite and nothing more. Then her face lit up. “Oh, you’re wonderful,” she gushed as she sidestepped Harlan and headed straight for Rick…and the drink he was holding out to her.

  The annoyance on Harlan’s face showed for only a split second as he turned and watched her walk past, but it showed long enough to satisfy Rick on a primitive level.

  Malcolm looked just as grateful to be offered something cold to drink but his reaction didn’t turn Rick on like Brenna’s had.

  “So I was wondering if you’d like to come back to my place.” As he spoke, Rick stroked her bare arm with the backs of his fingers, mesmerized, as always, by her softness. “We didn’t get coffee after dinner. How about I make you some?”

  They hadn’t had time for coffee because they’d spent more time talking than eating.

  Blinking, Brenna seemed to hesitate for a moment. Harlan fumed visibly.

  “You and Malcolm,” Rick added. He flashed her his best nice-guy smile.

  “Coffee would be great,” Brenna answered, then flashed him a grin of her own that made his cock twitch and kept her focus on him as she finished her drink.

  When the three of them stepped away from the bar, Harlan didn’t even bother to hide the contemptuous look he shot Rick.

  They only made it halfway to the door.

  “Brenna.” It was the petite blonde Brenna had flogged that first night. Tracy waved, bounced up in her high heels then hugged Brenna effusively once they made their way over. “You remember Kevin.”

  Brenna introduced Tracy and her husband to Rick and Malcolm. “So? How are you liking the club?” Brenna asked.