Claiming Cleo (Masters Club 2)

Chapter 22

Cleo had been looking forward to returning to the London club, where all her happiest moments had been spent. But now that she was there, it felt a little odd. Kind of like returning to your high school as an adult. The place felt both familiar and foreign, and smaller than she remembered. Maybe it was just jet lag, but the thrill she’d been anticipating was curiously absent.

It had been kind of funny and a little bit thrilling to watch Master Jack’s reaction to Ellis’s flirtation with her. She’d wanted to explain to the obviously disconcerted Jack that Ellis flirted with every girl, shamelessly and joyously, and then forgot them a moment later.

She’d had a crush on the guy early on—who wouldn’t, with all those gorgeous muscles, that mop of curly hair, the infectious smile and the laughing green eyes? But she’d soon wised up to his ways. Ellis was single for a reason—the primary one being he liked it that way.

At the entrance to the dungeon, Master Jack stopped her. Looking into her eyes, he reached for the straps at her shoulders and pushed them down her arms, causing the top half of her silky new dress to fall to her waist.

A shiver of pleasure moved through Cleo at his dominant, sexy gesture. She glanced down at her bared breasts, catching the glint of platinum against her nipples.

Placing his hands on either side of her waist, Master Jack slid them along her hips and thighs. Cleo sighed with pleasure. How she loved his touch. Still staring sexily into her eyes, he dragged the dress down until it puddled on the floor.

Bending over, Master Jack retrieved the dress, loosely folded it and slid it into the side pocket of his gear bag.

“Keep the shoes on,” he directed, taking a step back to look her over. “You look very sexy like that.”

A flush of warmth moved through her at his words. Man, she was a goner when it came to this guy. In a few short days, he’d slowly but steadily torn down every one of her carefully constructed defenses. She was now completely vulnerable when it came to Master Jack.

Just don’t break my heart, she silently pleaded. Not again.

She banished the fear. Since the second he’d arrived in New York, hadn’t he shown her each step of the way that he was a different man now? A man who could be trusted.

“Shall we?” Master Jack asked, waving a hand toward the open doorway.

“We shall,” Cleo agreed with a grin, eager to see who was inside—who she would recognize and who was new.

While the London club was significantly smaller than its New York counterpart, the main dungeon was actually a little larger. Because they didn’t have the luxury of an entire floor devoted to specialty playrooms, as they did in New York, the London dungeon boasted more scene stations with more varied equipment and toys.

It felt super strange to walk back into the place that had been her home away from home in the years before she fled the UK. Everything looked pretty much the same, though she spied a few new pieces of bondage furniture here and there.

There were about a dozen people occupying the various stations. Cleo spied Mistress Carolyn with her slave boy, Michael. He was chained to a whipping post by wrist cuffs secured high on the post, forcing him nearly on tiptoe. A butt plug with a horse’s tail on it protruded from his ass. Mistress Carolyn was smacking a riding crop over his body, leaving little red squares on his skin. He wiggled his horsey tail and cried his thanks with each stroke.

As they walked deeper into the room, Cleo saw three pleasure subs kneeling on cushions against the wall, their red collars in place as they waited to be tapped by the next Dom to choose them. The woman in the middle looked up at that precise moment, her eyes widening, her face breaking into a big grin. It was Marissa, one of Cleo’s best girlfriends at the London club. She nudged the women on either side of her, whispering excitedly.

Marissa had been there for her in a big way while Cleo was going through the quiet agony of unrequited love for Master Jack. She’d counseled Cleo to let him go—the timing was all wrong between them. She had agreed Cleo would be better off getting a fresh start at the new club, though she would miss her. Cleo suddenly felt guilty, as she hadn’t been in touch with Marissa for a while now. She had slowly let London and the past go. Her home was in New York, or at least it had been until Master Jack burst back into her life.

All at once, Master Jack and Cleo were surrounded by the three giggling, naked girls. “Master Jack, Sir, where have you been? I missed you so!” It was Fiona, one of the regulars. She dropped dramatically into a kneeling crouch, pressing her augmented breasts against Jack’s leg as she moved like a dog in heat.