“Pet, you’ve been bad,” Aidan murmured, stroking the soft flesh of Lily’s bottom. “What happens to bad submissives?”
Her long blond hair blanketed the wooden floor. Her ass was up in the air as she lay across the spanking bench. “They get spanked, sir.”
Aidan smiled.
Lily had purposely goaded him when they arrived at Chains, so he’d issue a spanking. “No, Lily, they get spanked hard.” With the flat of his hand, he smacked the sweet spot on her round ass, and she arched into him. “Don’t they, Lily?”
“Oh, yes, sir. I deserve it.” She gasped.
His body temperature rose as his hand landed on her other cheek. “Ah, but I think she enjoys it.”
Another hit stung against his fingers.
“I do, sir,” she squeaked.
With two final swats burning his hand, he reached for the zipper on his pants, exposing his bare and rock-hard cock. “Spread your cheeks. That sweet cunt belongs to me.”
She obliged him, and her slit glistened with her arousal as her legs were spread wide. His cock jumped in his hand at her perfect, slender body that he’d die to protect. “Take me. I’m yours, sir.”
With a knotted stomach, Aidan blinked out of the memory. The crowd in the club was a blur, each heartbeat banging in his ears. He gulped, gazing over every station Lily had been at. Even if the BDSM equipment had changed over the years, the memory of her was woven into the fabric of the club.
His heart twisted.
He missed her.
No, there is more to it than that, something dark inside told him.
He shut his eyes, blowing out a slow breath. You have dealt with all this. You are here for Cora. Opening his eyes and with an acute sense of purpose, he scanned the club for Cora’s ex-boyfriend, Porter.
Find him and get out.
Aidan, in fact, had known Porter longer than he had known Cora. When Aidan first joined Chains, he’d met Porter and they got along well. When Dmitri opened Club Sin, Aidan had never been so happy to leave Chains behind, considering he’d played with Lily there. He supposed Porter and his worlds had drifted apart, since they hadn’t kept in touch.
When Aidan had learned from Cora that she had played with Porter, it made him happy they hadn’t kept in touch. The connection would’ve been too close and too strange. Now Aidan could care less that Cora and Porter had once dated.
Cora had told him that she was with Porter the first year Club Sin was open, which was why Aidan had never met her. She started going to Chains soon after Aidan had left. Heading farther into the dark club, he passed D
oms and submissives chatting on the couch.
Before he made it three feet, a submissive dropped to her knees and blocked his way. He stared down at the dirty-blond head, bowed to the floor.
“Sir, may I be yours for the night?” the woman in her early twenties asked.
Aidan tucked a finger under her jaw, lifting her head. Her round, blue, hungry eyes sparkled. He showed her the band on his wrist. “It’s in your best interest to look before you offer yourself.”
The rules had explained that the bands ranged from everything to observing, being a player, and even had colors indicating what a person would or would not do. Sadists wore silver bands. Doms interested in lighter play wore gold. “As you can see, I’m only an observer.”
The pretty blonde, who was dressed in a corset and a tiny black skirt, smirked. “Can I do anything to change your mind?”
Aidan did not miss this part of public clubs. He narrowed his eyes, having no desire to have this submissive kneeling at his feet. That right belonged to another, sassy submissive. “Stand up.” Once on her feet, her eyes twinkled. He frowned. “Sub, mind your manners and don’t question a Dom.”
Christ, he’d forgotten how untrained some submissives were. Club Sin submissives understood rules, as in to accept a no and go away. While his muscles quivered, his chest lightened. Compared to this submissive, Cora shined. “Take my advice. Do not repeat the error again.” He gestured to his left, his hand flicking out dismissively. “Go.”
She offered him a full-out pout before she scurried away. Disgusted, he shook his head that she had offered herself without any understanding of his desires. A woman without common sense was the most unattractive.
He shook his hands out, shedding the tingling heat in his veins, scanning the club. A dark-skinned woman was bound to a St. Andrew’s Cross, receiving a nicely done flogging. Another submissive was kneeling on the stage with her Dom striding around her.
So far he didn’t see anyone with Porter’s height of six-foot-three. He moved through the hordes of people, focused on the two Doms commanding the one submissive strung up with cream ropes.