preferred. Out of habit, she shifted her gaze to the floor.
“Look at me, Dena.” He spoke softly and waited until she lifted her head. “I can’t speak for other Dominants in the group, but I want your eyes on me when we talk unless I tell you differently.”
“Thank you, Sir,” she replied. Something about the gruffness of his voice made her hyperaware of how long it’d been since she’d played with anyone. She wondered if his touch would match the roughness of his voice.
He nodded. “The group safe word is ‘red.’ Say it and the scene stops immediately. You’ll probably also have a few members come by to make sure you’re okay. Dungeon monitors have a yellow armband on. If you have questions or need anything, see one of them. As you’ve already noticed, no one is allowed inside who hasn’t been approved. But if someone comes up to you and you have any questions about their character or intent before you play, feel free to ask me.”
She wondered if he was at the party with anyone. He was extremely good-looking in a rough and rustic kind of way. She’d always been attracted to his type, probably because it was so different from her father.
Stop thinking about your father!
“The two rooms upstairs are for demos,” Master Parks continued. “Basement is free space to play—just make sure everything’s clean before you leave. Most Dominants bring their own toys, since we’re rather attached to our favorites. Kitchen is neutral; no play allowed. Only certain members are allowed to play with doors closed. Again, if you have any questions, ask a DM or me.”
She nodded.
“I think that’s all. Do you have any questions?”
“Just one, Sir.”
His forehead wrinkled as if he were trying to decide what he left out. “Yes?”
“What’s your favorite?”
“Favorite what?”
“Toy.” Her mind swam with images of him holding a flogger, smacking her backside with a crop, blindfolding her. “You said most Dominants had a favorite. I was wondering if you did.”
His eyes darkened and his lips parted just a tiny bit. He had really full, kissable lips. She bet he had nice teeth, too. Probably amazing what he could do with those lips and teeth.
“Actually,” he said, taking a step closer to her. There was very little space between them now; her belly tightened at how close he was. “I’m more of a bondage guy.” He captured her wrist, and his hands were warm and strong. Softly, he whispered in her ear, “How about you, Dena? What’s your favorite?”
She licked her lips. When had her mouth gotten so dry? And could he see how hard she was breathing? Probably, she decided. But instead of feeling shame at how much he turned her on, she squared her shoulders and answered, “All of it, Sir. I like all of it.”
Jeff Parks had taken one look at the beautiful blonde while she stood in the foyer and had known immediately she was out of his league. As a man who’d been raised in the lower middle class, it didn’t take much for him to recognize the look of someone with a completely different upbringing. Everything about her screamed upper class, from her perfect makeup and meticulously styled hair right down to the neatly painted red toenails peeking out of her ridiculously high heels.
She reminded him of an angel, she was so perfectly put together. And though she was at a BDSM play party, he knew he wasn’t anywhere near angelic enough to be in her world. He’d faltered briefly when she’d said she had four years’ experience and then again when she’d asked what his favorite toy was, all the while looking at him with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.
Even now, standing in the kitchen, watching her move around the house, he wondered if he’d made a huge mistake in not asking if she wanted to play. If he closed his eyes, he could still smell the faint scent of jasmine that he’d first noticed when he’d taken her wrist.
“You plan on asking her to play, or are you going to sit here and stare at her all night?”
He turned at the sound of Daniel’s voice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t even deny it.” Daniel nodded toward Dena. “The new blonde. I was thinking of asking her, but from the looks of it, you’ll pound anyone who approaches her into the ground.”
Jeff’s body tensed as a relatively new Dom walked up to her. She turned and smiled at the guy but peeked toward Jeff out of the corner of her eye. The tension left him when she sweetly shook her head.
“Looks like someone’s waiting for you,” Daniel said as the guy walked off.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Or maybe she was looking at me.” Daniel pushed off from the counter. “Wonder if she looks as good with that corset off? Only one way to find out.”
Damned if he was going to let Daniel have her. Though he probably should. They were both so much alike: blond good looks, wealthy, full of life.
“Sit down,” he said to his friend, surprised at how rough his voice sounded.
Daniel smiled in victory and sat on a nearby barstool. “About damn time.”
Jeff pretended not to hear him as he walked toward Dena.
She sat in the living room, a plate of cheese balanced on her knees and an open bottle of water on the floor by her feet.
“Mind if I sit down?” he asked.
“Master Parks,” she said, shifting the plate to one hand and attempting to stand up. “Please, have a seat.”
He motioned for her to sit back down and took a seat beside her.
“How’s your evening going?” he asked.
She glanced at the floor briefly, but he was pleased to note she looked up and met his eyes without being told. “Very nice, Sir. Everyone’s so friendly.”
“And yet you’re sitting here by yourself.”
“Not anymore,” she said with a seductive grin.
His cock hardened at her words, and he recalled what Daniel had said. Had she been waiting for him?
“You’re an attractive woman,” he said. “I’m sure you could play with just about any Dominant you wanted.”
She was a woman who knew exactly how desirable she was. She didn’t blush or brush off his compliment. Instead, she simply tipped her head in agreement. “I’ve never been one to play with just any Dominant, Sir.”
He decided to see if Daniel had been right after all. They were in the living room, where light play was allowed. “Take your shoes off and tell me how long you’ve lived in Wilmington.”
If she had no interest in him or playing, he knew she’d refuse. He braced himself for that possibility.
Ever so smoothly, she put her plate aside and unbuckled her heels, slid her feet out of them. “I moved into the area four weeks ago. I just took a new job.”
“Are you wearing anything under the skirt?”
Her eyes darkened. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good, because I didn’t ask why you moved here. Stand up and take the skirt off.”
She didn’t hesitate at all. Moving quickly, she stood up, slid the skirt over her hips and down her legs, stepped out of it, and handed it to him. “I’m sorry for not following directions, Sir.”
Fuck, he wanted her. She was gorgeous and an experienced submissive. She moved with the self-confidence of a person unafraid to admit her needs and wants. And, quite possibly, she wanted him, too.
Still, he wasn’t one to jump into a scene without knowing a bit more about his partner. He fisted his hands against his thighs, forcing himself to take it slow and easy.
“Tell me about your worst experience as a submissive,” he continued.
For just a second, he thought she wouldn’t do it. He’d asked her something she wasn’t prepared for, and it unsettled her. She had a poker face a lot of the time, but every so often he could see hints of the woman underneath. A desire to seduce that woman and claim the submissive inside was growing within him quickly.
“My worst experience,” she said, “was the day I left my old Master. It was more than knowing I’d disappointed him. I actually felt his disappointment. It was like it bu
rned me and weighted me down and picked me apart all at the same time. He was my Master, had been for almost a year. I’d lived to serve and please him. To knowingly do something he didn’t agree with? It killed a part of me.”
There was something more to the story, he could tell. Even if he couldn’t sense it from her expression, what he knew of her in the little time they’d spoken told she wouldn’t have left her Dominant without cause.
He had a feeling she’d tell him what it was if he asked, but he decided to leave that conversation for another day.
“Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it wasn’t easy,” he said. “Now tell me about your best experience as a submissive.”
She gave him a seductive smile. “My best experience was the day I left my old Master.”
He covered his shock, or at least, he hoped he did. “How so?”
“I was new in the lifestyle when I agreed to wear his collar. I didn’t know my own limits and, more important, my worth. He was never physically abusive, but mentally, he wore me down. After a time, I discovered he didn’t respect me, didn’t value what I brought to the relationship.” She shrugged. “I’m a submissive, not a doormat. I deserved more, and I left him so I could find it.”