Prologue
Heather
I stand in the shadows and watch as the man moves carefully toward his submissive. She’s trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, only instead of stuffing and gravy, she’s covered in fabric and lace. She’s decadent in every way, and he is going to devour her.
I see the way he moves around her.
His eyes never leave hers, like some sort of beautiful dance.
And then he speaks.
The music in Club Shadows is pounding. It’s loud. It’s heavy. It’s much too noisy to be able to hear anything the couple is saying to one another, but I see his lips moving, and I can see what he’s asking her.
Are you ready, princess?
She doesn’t say a word.
She opens her mouth and closes it again because she’s smart, and this isn’t her first time playing with a big, bad Dom. She knows that if she says she’s ready, he’s going to laugh. There’s no way she could be ready for what lies in store.
Not this time.
Instead, she takes a deep breath.
Then she nods, but it’s almost as if she’s reassuring herself that she can handle whatever the man has prepared for her. She knows that it’s going to be a lot to bear. It always is.
“Like what you see?” A familiar voice whispers in my ear.
I don’t even have to turn around to see who it is because he’s always with me all of the time. No matter what I’m going through, no matter how long it’s been since I walked into the club, he’s with me.
I can feel him.
“Yes,” I say.
Peter stands behind me and places a hand protectively on my hip. If I move back just a little, I’ll be able to rub against him, but I know better than to tease a Dom.
Especially one like him.
“She’s very sexy,” he murmurs, and I keep my eyes focused on the scene in front of me. The woman is a lovely. Her hands are bound in front of her and her eyes are wide with nervousness and excitement. The Dominant moves around her, speaking to her, touching her. He undoes the buttons on her dress and pulls her breasts out.
Then he flicks them: first one, and then the other.
“Yes,” I agree. “She is.”
For just a moment, I wish it was me up on the stage, but with Peter instead of the other man. For just a brief second, I let myself wonder what it would feel like to have his hands touching me the way this Dominant is touching his partner.
“Do you like watching them, Heather?”
“You know I do,” I breathe out.
“Are you turned on?”
“Yes.”
He strokes up my sides a little, and I bite my lip to keep myself from asking for more. Peter isn’t going to take any liberties with me. He’s much too polite and well-bred for that sort of thing. No, he’ll do something else instead.
He’ll make me ask him.
Beg him.
I move back, just a little, so that my bottom is rubbing against his cock. He’s hard, and I wiggle it a little bit.
“Do you like what you feel, little girl?” He murmurs in my ear. He knows exactly what I’m doing, exactly how much this is turning me on, but he’s not making me stop.
On the contrary, he’s letting me take this exactly as far as I want to.
The problem is that I want more.
I want all of it.
I rarely play at the club. I love to come watch people and sometimes I’ll participate in a scene, but I haven’t found someone here I truly connect with. I’m a single submissive, which is good if you like partying and threeways. Club Shadows has been a wonderful place for me to connect with other people, and I’ve definitely gotten out of my comfort zone sexually.
But I haven’t let myself fall for anyone.
And I haven’t let myself play with anyone I find really, really attractive.
Like Peter.
There’s something about him that sort of terrifies me. There’s something wonderfully mysterious, and it’s not because he’s tall, dark, and delightfully Dominant. It’s something else.