I only have to look to him.
I’m not the kind of woman that’s in need of saving, but I’d be lying if a small part of me didn’t hope… didn’t wish…
Fabien grabs me so suddenly I don’t even have time to gasp or react in any way. He shoves me against his chest and stabs his fingers in my hair, yanking my head backward so I’m facing him. Without warning, his mouth crashes on mine in a savage kiss. Lips part, tongues tangle. He cradles my head in his hands as he plunders and pillages, burning down my defenses as if they’re made out of straw.
His hands are on my neck, my shoulders, raking down my body as if he’s memorizing every cell. When he reaches my ass, he lifts me, hauls me straight up in the air. My legs wrap around him and he walks with me like that, still joined in a kiss that makes us one.
I pant when he finally pulls back, but it’s only long enough for him to whisper in my ear, “You’re mine. Look at me. Don’t look anywhere else but at me.”
Good thing with our outrageous clothing and “fuck me now” make-out sesh we fit right in here, because no one even spares us a passing glance.
I stare at him, into the depths of his eyes, and want to cry. In my peripheral vision, I see a line of men slinking into The Underground. One by one, as they enter, the atmosphere in the room grows tense. Conversations grow quieter, and some couples draw closer together.
In my ear, Fabien tells me what’s going on. “The Lyon family has arrived.”
Just who we need. I swallow and nod against his chest. “Yes, sir.”
“What a good girl you are,” he says approvingly with a kiss to my cheek. Sliding me down his body, he takes the opportunity to make sure every inch of me touches him.
“I thought,” I lean in to whisper in his ear. He cups the back of my head. “There was no approval in a master and slave dynamic. I thought there was no… aftercare.”
“It is what you make of it,” he whispers back. “I don’t like labels, and the only rules I like are the ones I make for you. Do you know more than I thought you did?”
“Perhaps that’s for me to know and you to find out.”
A narrowed-eyed look is my only warning before he gives me a sharp, very public, smack to the ass. I stifle a squeal. No one looks our way.
“It’s time,” he whispers in my ear.
“Time for —”
The snap of his fingers halts the words on my tongue.
I stop breathing as I drop to my knees. I swallow when I realize my eyes are directly across from his leather belt.
I know what he can do with that belt.
I notice a few silver notches on the belt I don’t remember seeing before. On one hangs a silver key.
“This is how you are to kneel,” he says in a normal voice, not bothering to whisper this time. When he crouches in front of me, he grabs my chin between his thumb and forefinger, dragging my chin to my chest. “Ass on your feet. Hands on your knees. Chin to your chest.”
As he talks, he arranges my body so I’m in the submissive posture he wants.
“There. Very good. When I give you the command to kneel, this is what I expect from you. Understand?”
Play the part.
I nod. I gulp when he threads his fingers through my hair and yanks. “What was that?”
“Yes, sir.”
My pulse speeds up and heat flares across my skin as if someone lit a match. His perfect control… the latent threat… his utter focus.
This is only pretend, this is only pretend…
Why do I wish it wasn’t? I’m all for “don’t yuck my yum” and all that, and I’ve had my fair share of kinky exchanges, but I’ve never experienced anything like this before.
And until now, I had no idea I wanted to.
When I catch his gaze, he quickly shifts his eyes to the corner of the room where a few different people are congregating on comfortable-looking overstuffed chairs and sofas. Ahh. From my position, I can see a different angle.
“No,” he says sharply. I look back at him to see his eyes move again to a doorway behind where everyone sits.
Two men stand sentry on either side, hands tucked behind their backs. Bodyguards? A man dressed in black leading a woman on a chain walks past them. Fabien gives me a subtle nod.
I believe we’ve found our talisman owner.
In one swift move, he yanks me to my feet.
“But where’s he going?” I whisper in his ear.
Fabien curses. “He’s going to the free room.”
I don’t remember paying to get in here. What does it mean? Sometimes things get lost in translation. Literally.