Breaking Free

Chapter Five

Nolan strolled through the big rock-walled dungeon room, keeping an eye on the various scenes being played out. Mistress Anne had her slave manacled to the wall and was adding weights to the studded parachute ball-stretcher.

An older gay couple was using the sling, and the Dom had trussed his sub’s legs to the chains in an inventive way. Interesting. Before moving on, Nolan automatically scanned the sub. Not good. Clicking on his flashlight, he waved the beam across the floor to catch the Dom’s attention, then on the sub’s bluish hand. The Dom didn’t speak, just went to work loosening the restraints. Nolan nodded and continued circling the room.

On the far side, he stopped to watch Heath, a Dom in his mid-twenties, trying to tie Sally to the bondage table. Heath was a conscientious Dom but perhaps too nice for the mouthy trainee. From the unimpressed look on her face, Sally needed a more controlling top. She was actually instructing Heath on where to place the restraints.

Nolan smothered a smile and then shook his head. From the look on Sally’s face, she’d spend tonight provoking Heath to their mutual dissatisfaction. Not a good match there.

Relationships were relationships, whether vanilla or BDSM. All required a lot of looking before a person found someone who clicked. Maybe Dom/sub couples verbalized their requirements more openly, but searching still took time and effort. Hopefully pretty Sally would someday find a Dom who could meet her needs. Considering that her stubbornness rivaled her intelligence, she’d require one powerful Dom to master her.

He grinned, remembering the night he’d topped her. His hand had hurt by the time he’d finished spanking her. A fun evening, but as a submissive or a lover, she lacked that essential spark, at least for him.

Now with Beth… There was something compelling about the little redhead. Not the pain she’d endured, although he respected her courage in not letting it stop her. What really pulled at him was her vulnerability. She could have turned bitter and nasty to protect herself. Instead she’d built defenses to hide the softness underneath.

Formidable defenses. How the hell had he let Z talk him into taking her on? Snorting a laugh, he headed back toward the other side of the room.

Anne’s sub was sweating like a pig, so Nolan snagged a bottle of water from the back table and left it at the edge of the Domme’s scene space.

The clock read 11:30. Had Beth arrived? If so, why had she not come to find him?

Across the room, Dan appeared in the door and scoped out the area. Typical cop. The DMs here included a fair number of law enforcement types and ex-soldiers. In his usual black vest and leathers, the man crossed the room to Nolan. “Anything I should know?”

“All quiet.” Nolan nodded toward the gay couple. “Got involved and had the restraints too tight.”

“Uh-huh,” Dan said, and Nolan knew he’d monitor the couple carefully. Like most Doms, Dan was overprotective to the point of absurdity.

Nolan handed over the flashlight. He tossed his gold-trimmed vest into a cubby to pick up later and pulled on a tight, sleeveless black shirt. “You seen Beth?”

“Ah.” Dan turned his head, apparently mesmerized by Heath’s rope work. “Yeah. She’s…ah…doing a scene.”

Found another Dom, had she? Nolan’s hands closed until the knuckles cracked, and then he relaxed, amused at his own blindness. He should have anticipated something like this. He’d undermined her defenses last week, so she’d want to shore them up as hard as she could. “They got a station?”

Dan nodded.

She’d be easy enough to find. And if another Dom managed to get her to respond, more power to him. He rather doubted it would happen, not with that wary little sub.

He nodded to Dan and left the dungeon. As he walked down the long hallway of theme rooms, giggles and shrieks came from the playroom, groans from the medical room, and laughter from the office. Out in the main room, the stations near the door held two gay couples vying with each other for how long their subs could delay getting off. One of the two corner cages held a brunette with tears on her cheeks; someone had been bad.

So where was Beth? Nolan checked the roped-off areas down the right wall. No little rabbit. As he crossed the room past the bar, Cullen waggled a bottle of Corona at him.

“Thanks.” Nice and cold. Nolan took a couple of swallows. “Where is she?”

Cullen nodded to the other side of the room. “Sawhorse. Bad choice of top. He’s letting his frustration get to him.”

“Hell.” Nolan strode across the room. A small crowd watched as the beefy Dom hammered into the slender redhead restrained on the bench. Small grunts escaped Beth as the thrusting continued. Her forehead was pressed to the leather cushion, her hands clenched into fists. Just enduring.

Nolan wanted to grab the clueless Dom and shove him through the nearest wall, but that wouldn’t be right. Beth had a safe word and was obviously nowhere near subspace or too frightened to use it. Her choice.

Bad choice, as Cullen had said. Nolan looked around. On a couch beside the rope barrier, Z watched the scene, his jaw set in a rigid line. Nolan joined him.

“I find this extremely painful,” Z said.

“To watch or to feel?” Nolan asked. An open secret in the club, the Shadowlands owner was not only a psychologist, but could pick up emotions if close enough to a person.

“Both.” Z sighed, rubbed his face. “I’m trying to decide whether to tear up her membership papers right here and now or wait until I’m less angry.”

“She’s a piece of work, all right. I’m a bit pissed off myself.” He watched as the Dom climaxed, his face red with exertion, and his expression ugly with annoyance at the lackluster scene. Yanking himself out of Beth, he tossed the condom in the garbage and headed toward the paddle lying under the rope barrier. From the redness of Beth’s ass, the Dom had already used it once.

Nolan walked over to the rope. The Dom picked up the paddle and, as he straightened, his gaze met Nolan’s. Nolan shook his head and unleashed a little of his anger. “Finish. Now.”

The paddle dropped, and the man took a careful step back. As he returned to Beth, his rigid posture shouted that he wasn’t intimidated. Nolan didn’t give a shit what the Dom did to salvage his pride. Compliance was all that mattered, and the incompetent bastard was unstrapping Beth from the bench.

He rejoined Z on the couch.

“If you and Jessica keep this up, I won’t have a Dom left in the place,” Z murmured, his lips quirked in amusement.

“Don’t bullshit me. If I hadn’t stopped him, you would have.” Nolan kept his eyes on Beth. She pushed herself to her feet, face very pale. She was trembling but waved away the Dom’s half-hearted attempt to help her. The Dom glared at her and stalked away.

“She could well drive a man to drink, but I’m going to have to keep an eye on him,” Z said. “He doesn’t appear to handle frustration well.” He lifted his hand.

A trainee in loincloth and chain harness hurried over and actually knelt at Z’s feet. “Yes, Master.”

“Austin, please put up a reserved sign on the station and have Peggy clean it.”

“This one will-”

Z interrupted, leaning forward and gripping the sub’s chin. “Austin, this one prefers lower protocol be observed in the club. You don’t kneel unless the Dom indicates otherwise. And the proper response is, ‘Yes, Sir.’”

The sub actually quivered. “Yes, Sir,” he whispered. Once back on his feet, he dashed away.

Nolan snorted and returned to watching Beth as she struggled with lacing up the front of her latex dress. Everything in him wanted to help her. He diverted himself by asking Z, “Got the trainees kneeling now?”

“Heard that, did you?” Z sighed and rubbed his eyes. “His master was into very high protocol. The relationship is terminated, but Austin still has that mindset. And I am quite tired of hearing ‘this one’ every few minutes.”

“I enjoy high protocol occasionally, at least for the silence, kneeling, and lowered eyes, but not the third person bullshit.” Nolan shrugged. “To each his own.”

As Beth finished lacing her dress, he forced himself to lean back, set a boot on the coffee table, and drink his beer. A rescue on his part would only compound the problem they now had. She had to take the first step this time.

Finally finished lacing her dress, Beth pulled it straight with an effort. Her hands, her legs, hell, her whole body shook. Like a new planting in a strong wind, she felt as if she could be uprooted and blown away any moment. Her bottom and the backs of her thighs still burned from the paddling. The Dom had been very angry with her lack of response.

Her fault, she knew; it was always her fault. God, her emotions were wobbling almost as bad as her legs. Staring down at her feet, she bit her lip hard and forced back the tears. She took a long, calming breath. All right then. Time to go home. She looked up-and straight into Master Nolan’s black eyes.

Her body jerked back as if he’d hit her, her breath exploding from her lungs.

He was right there. On the couch. He’d watched the awful scene. Oh, God. She wanted to run from the room, from the club, and never come back.

He didn’t move. And then he tilted his head, lifted his eyebrows slightly in a way that said she hadn’t lost everything with this horrible mistake…if she had the courage to acknowledge she’d been wrong.

She could, for once, actually read his expression. Her hands curved into fists, pulling at the new cuts where she’d gouged her fingernails into her palms. She couldn’t move. If she went to him now, her decision would be voluntary, not coerced by Master Z’s threats. This time Master Nolan would demand she submit with her whole heart, not just her surface actions.

Could she do that?

She managed one step forward, then another. Her body felt unfamiliar, as if her legs belonged to someone else. She made it past the ropes, past the few people remaining. Their whispers brushed her ears. Her eyes never left Sir’s.

And then she stood in front of him and couldn’t think what to do next.

He waited, sipping his beer, his gaze steady.

When her legs trembled, and she almost fell, she recognized the next step. Such a simple one. Such a hard one.

She knelt at his feet. After a minute, she managed to tear her gaze away from his unreadable eyes and look down at the floor. The words came to her lips without her prompting, left her lips in a whisper. “Please, Master…”

“Aw, hell.” The thud of a beer bottle being set on the table, the creak of the couch, and then firm hands grasped her around the waist. He picked her up effortlessly, set her on his lap, and pulled her firmly against his broad chest. When his arms came around her, the strength in them so obvious and so controlled, she shuddered, unable to form a coherent thought.

“Sir?” She struggled to sit up, to explain, to apologize.

“Rest now, sugar. We will discuss your idiotic behavior later.” And the hint of laughter in his voice was like a warm spring shower on a parched garden.

The little rabbit quivered in his arms for quite a while before succumbing to sleep. Made Nolan feel good that she could relax enough to sleep in his arms. Twice now. They’d made progress, after all.

That or he just bored her senseless. As she snoozed, he watched Z’s cleaning lady disinfect the bench and area before removing the RESERVED sign.

A married couple and their sub used the station next, the male sub receiving a well-administered caning with marks carefully placed up his thighs and onto his buttocks. A bit obsessive, that husband with the evenness, but the force was well calculated, sending the sub to a good place. After a bit, the wife took the sub’s place and also got caned. Then she was double-teamed by both the husband and sub to everyone’s delight. The wife was quite a screamer.

In his arms, Beth stirred at the noise, her muscles stiffening, but this time she didn’t do a dive off his lap. Another sign of progress. She lifted her head, blinked sleepy, blue-green eyes, and stared at the scene area where the husband was unfastening his wife.

“You were asleep,” Nolan said helpfully.

“I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to…to use you…ah-”

“For a pillow? Guess you owe me then.” Nolan grasped her hair, tilted her head back, and took his payment, a long, soft kiss from a sleepy woman. Been a while since he’d shared his bed, and he’d missed that small pleasure. He took it deeper, using his expertise to rouse her, even as he played with her breasts. Beneath her dress, her nipples bunched to points. When he drew back, she was definitely wide awake, and a flush of excitement pinkened her cheeks.

Nolan spotted the trainee and jerked his head. The young man headed over, his big brown eyes filled with desire to please. He started to kneel, and Nolan growled, freezing him in place. “Stand up, sub.”

Austin rose and waited for instructions, a pulse beating fast in his throat.

“Bring me a screwdriver from the bar.”

Austin started, “This one-”

Nolan gave him a cold look.

“Yes, Sir!” The young man left much faster than he’d arrived.

“You enjoy terrifying everyone around you?” Beth asked and stiffened. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“I’m just surrounded by timid people,” he said, ignoring her apology. He rubbed his knuckles over her nipples. Her little breasts with correspondingly small nipples were more fun to play with than he’d thought. He’d gotten into a rut, taking only well-endowed women. He tugged on the knot at the top of her dress, pleased that the ties went from the neckline to the hem. With one hand, he undid the lacing she’d worked so patiently on earlier. He pulled the ties through the grommets, one by one, until her dress flapped open. Sliding his hand through the opening, he cupped a breast and felt the nipple gather even tighter.

Austin appeared with her drink, and Nolan set it into her hand with a nod of thanks for the sub. She frowned at the glass.

He gave her a steady gaze until she took a sip. He agreed with the Shadowland’s two drink limit, but one drink wouldn’t hurt her, and if anyone needed to mellow out, it would be this woman. He continued playing with her body, tracing the indentations of her ribs, circling her cute bellybutton, stroking the hollow above her collarbone. She sipped her drink so slowly that she’d started to squirm under his attentions before she finished.

Good. Her punishment would go easier if she was aroused, and punishment there would be. “Now, let’s discuss what happened earlier.”

Her eyes widened.

“Did you think I had forgotten?”

Her breath stopped.

“I believe we had an agreement, and you deliberately found someone else to top you. I am angry both about the broken agreement and, even more, that you didn’t have the courtesy to speak to me first.”

Her head dropped, her hands twining together on her lap. “You’re right. What I did was rude.”

“Why, sugar? Tell me why.” Cupping her chin in his hand, he forced her to meet his gaze.

Beth didn’t want to look at him, wanted to look anywhere but at him, but he didn’t let her move. “I thought I’d be okay, that the block was gone.”

“That doesn’t explain why you wanted to change Doms.”

“I was scared,” she managed. “You scare me. I can’t think when you touch me, and I have no control, and it’s too much like what happened…before.”

“You trusted him, and he betrayed you. Now you aren’t sure if you can trust anyone.”

That he could understand so well was a gift she didn’t deserve.

His thumb stroked her cheek gently. “Little rabbit, I can understand your worries. And we, you and I, will work through them. But I cannot condone how you avoided talking to me.”

He was going to hurt her. She knew it and didn’t know if she could take it. He wouldn’t be like the Dom earlier. The pain from being paddled had been intense, but this muscular man could do so, so much worse.

“I’ll try to…” She felt her lips quiver, firmed them immediately, and closed her eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears. Crying only made punishments worse.

“Look at me, sugar.” She lifted her eyes, and he wiped away the tear that spilled over. “I could tell you what I do and don’t do, but you wouldn’t believe a word I said. So let’s get this over with.” Still sitting, he pushed her to her feet. “Strip.”

She glanced at the spanking station and saw a Dom fastening his sub onto the bench. “But someone is already-”

“The only words that leave your mouth are, ‘Yes, Sir.’ Am I clear?”

“Yes, Sir.” She’d never stripped in the bar itself, only in a scene area. This felt all wrong. Totally humiliating even if the eyes on her were the same ones that would watch a scene. But it was playacting there, not real. Out here was real.

Master Nolan didn’t speak. Only his fingers tapping the arm of the couch showed that his patience might be limited.

She pressed her lips together to keep from saying anything and peeled off her dress, pathetically glad she hadn’t worn underwear. And there she stood, naked except for the thin black cuffs around her wrists.

His eyes ran up and down her body, and her breasts pebbled under his warm gaze. How could he rouse her with a look when others couldn’t with hands and mouths and cocks?

“You have a nice little body,” he said after far too long a pause. He rose and held out his hand. “Come then.”

Adding to her confusion, he led her away from the stations along the wall. At the end of the long oval bar, he stopped. “Cullen, I have a decoration for your bar. And can you spare a towel?”

The bartender barked out a laugh and tossed him a clean towel. “The scenery here has been boring. Go ahead.”

Bar decoration? Beth’s eyes widened, and her stomach clenched. She took a step back. He wouldn’t.

Flipping the towel open on the bar top, Master Nolan picked her up and set her on the bar.

“Sir. No, this-”

He shot her a cold look, and she bit back further protests, although more and more welled up inside her as she became aware of people watching, of their grins and murmured comments. Her cheeks flushed hot.

Sir stepped back and considered her for a moment. “Close, but not quite right. I’ve always liked the silhouettes on truckers’ mud flaps. Lean back onto your hands.” Setting a hand between her breasts, he pushed her back until her weight was on her arms.

Her breasts jutted upward, and he ran a hand over them. A jolt, then embarrassment ran through her at his casual touch. He treated her like a toy.

“Nolan, I prefer that my decorations face me,” Cullen yelled from down the bar.

Sir grunted. “Well, that’s reasonable. I wouldn’t want to annoy the bartender.” Lifting her slightly, he spun her around. Now her legs, rather than dangling off the end of the bar, lay on the bar top. He bent her knees and set her feet widely apart, exposing her pussy to every person sitting at the bar. She closed her eyes, and a tremor ran through her. She’d almost, almost rather have been whipped.

Master Raoul walked by, slowing to look at her, then Nolan. “I don’t suppose you’re serving appetizers, are you?”

“Sorry. I missed supper, so I’m going to keep this little dish for myself.”

Beth sighed in relief, then choked when Sir lowered his head to suck on the breast closest to him. She started to sit up, and he turned his head, just enough to look at her, his lips an inch from her breast, his breath warm on her wet nipple. “Do not move at all. Not one inch.”

Her fingers curled as she stilled. She kept her body stiff and unmoving as he licked her nipple and circled it with his tongue. Each stroke of his wet tongue sent sensation scorching through her, and moisture trickled down the folds of her pussy. Oh, God.

“Need your second beer, Nolan?” Cullen called as he concocted a drink.

Sir lifted his head. “That would go down well.” He turned and leaned against the bar, his elbow resting lightly on her hip. Almost carelessly, he stroked her inner thigh as he started talking to the man next to him.

The man said he was a fairly new club member… He’d joined with his wife… Beth lost track of the conversation as Sir’s warm hand moved over her leg, her waist, fingering the tender crease where her thigh met her hip.

Despite being naked, she felt as if heat waves were rising from her skin. When Sir laid his hand on the inside of her thigh and brushed his knuckles against the curls of her pussy, all Beth could do was close her eyes. Don’t move. Don’t move.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Nolan.”

Beth opened her eyes to see the man shake hands with Sir. The man glanced at Beth and the position of Sir’s hand. His face colored slightly before he hurried off.

Beth knew her face was probably just as red. Sir glanced back at her, his eyes crinkling. His fingers brushed against the swollen lips of her pussy, yanking her attention to his touch as if he’d pulled her on a leash. As his knuckles trailed back and forth, he watched her struggles to stay still, to breathe normally.

Cullen arrived with Sir’s beer. “Here you go, Nolan. Sorry about the wait.”

“No problem.” Sir took the beer from Cullen and then looked at Beth. His lips curved into the faintest of smiles, and she tensed. What was he-

He splashed some beer onto her breasts. She jerked as the icy liquid hit. Her nipples tightened into hard buds.

Arms resting on the bar, Master Nolan slowly licked the drops away, laving her nipples until she almost whimpered. His tongue followed the trail of cold beer to where it pooled in her belly button. He lapped it up like a dog. After a minute, he returned to lick one nipple lightly, then he bit down gently, repeating it over and over until fire shot from her breast to her clit, until she had to lock her teeth over a moan. Then he switched to the other breast.

“Nolan, I’ve been hoping you’d be here.”

Sir straightened as a hefty Domme in biker clothes walked over. A short, voluptuous sub in a tight latex dress with breast and pussy cutouts trailed behind her

“Good to see you, Olivia.” As he turned to talk with the woman, his big hand closed firmly over Beth’s ankle. The Domme gave Beth an amused look, then ignored her as she asked Sir about remodeling her house to add a dungeon room.

All Sir’s attention appeared to be on Olivia, except his hand kept inching higher up Beth’s leg. His fingers traced little circles on her inner thigh, spiraling ever higher until he touched her pussy. Even then, he never looked at her, just moved enough to rest his forearm on her lower stomach. His fingers dangled right over her pussy. His dark bronze arm was a startling contrast to her pale skin, his hand so wide it covered her mound completely.

“How close are your neighbors?” he asked the Domme, even as his fingers curled, stroking through Beth’s betrayingly wet folds. Slowly, unpredictably, his fingers caressed her opening, then spread the dampness over her clit. Sensation sizzled through her nerves. Her folds and clit swelled, feeling too tight as if the skin couldn’t contain the blood rushing to the area.

He touched her clit again, rubbed briefly, and then dipped into her opening.

Her breath strangled in her throat. She tried to ignore what he was doing, tried to stop the need rising within her. Dammit, why now? Any other Dom and she’d have been fine, not even slightly aroused.

This Dom… He didn’t seem to care about her response, wasn’t even looking at her. His wet finger traced over the sensitive edge between her clit and its hood, stroking it, over and over. Pressure built within her, the exquisite sensations bringing her almost to the peak. Almost. His conversation with the Domme buzzed in her ears, only the slide of his fingers was real. If he’d just touch her… She bit her lips. Her hips tilted only the slightest amount.

He slapped her thigh. The sharp sting stabbed through her like an electric current. “Stay still, sub.”

The Domme laughed, thanked him for his advice, and strolled away. Her sub gave Beth a sympathetic look before following.

Sir turned, his dark eyes cool as his gaze ran over Beth. She held perfectly still, tried to control her breathing, pleading with her eyes, Let me down, let me down.

He took a sip of his beer, another, started to set the bottle down, and stopped. He studied her again…and then he poured his cold beer right onto her overheated, sensitive clit. She gasped audibly, her legs jerking upward.

“Don’t move, sub.” She received another stinging slap onto her thigh that somehow only increased her need.

Her whole body was shaking now, her clit throbbing with need. Yet she was horrified when he lifted the leg closest to him and set her ankle onto his shoulder. He wouldn’t… No, no, no!

He scooted her hips toward him, bent, and started lapping the beer from her pussy. The first stroke of his tongue sent a blaze streaking through her; the next touch coiled the tension inside her higher. She heard her fingernails scratching the bar top. She tried to stay still and not move as his tongue circled her clit, the hood, the side, wiggling underneath, the other side, around and around. The tissue grew so engorged, so sensitive that every slide stopped her breath, shooting her closer and closer. The room faded. All she could feel was his tongue stroking over her, his unyielding grip on her leg.

Suddenly he thrust a rough finger into her, hard and fast, the invasion shocking. Overwhelming. Everything stretched and burst at once, exploding outward in waves of pleasure. She bucked against his face, her insides spasming around the thrusting finger. Somehow she managed to smother her scream so only muffled cries escaped.

Her arms shook, almost giving out. Master Nolan lifted his head, amusement flickering in his black eyes as he looked at her. He replaced her foot on the bar and adjusted her legs to the previous position. He patted her thigh, ignored her labored breathing, and said, “Don’t move, pet.”

Cullen walked over, shaking his head. “You know, if you didn’t want to drink from the bottle, I would have brought you a glass.”

Sir chuckled. “I like my way better.” He rested his forearm back on her stomach, his fingers trailing down against her pussy, and she barely suppressed a moan. Not again, please, not again.

Petal-soft touches danced over her clit, and her body sprang back to awareness.

“You know only a barbarian would refuse to use a glass.” The bartender glanced over Sir’s shoulder and grinned. “Like my new bar ornament, Z?”

Oh, dear sweet God. Beth stiffened, her humiliation complete as Master Z walked around Sir.

He turned and looked at her, his silver gaze mildly interested. “Very pretty, Cullen.” Looking at Sir with a faint smile, he lifted a brow. “I do believe I provide several well-equipped stations for scenes.”

Master Nolan patted her mound, making her jump. “I would never do a scene at the bar, Z. This was punishment.”

“Indeed.” Master Z tilted his head. “Did I not hear scenelike noises coming from this area?”

“Well, you know how I hate to drink from the bottle.” From the side, she could see Sir’s eyes crinkle. His finger started stroking through her wetness, relentlessly rubbing against her clit. As the inescapable pleasure surged through her, the muscles in her legs tensed, quivering uncontrollably as she strove not to move.

Sir continued. “Cullen didn’t give me a glass so I used what was available.”

“Don’t be blaming me, you bastard,” Cullen said.

“Well, that explains it.” Eyes lit with laughter, Master Z glanced at Beth, at where Sir’s hand lay, and he coughed. Another surge of heat ran through Beth, this time from pure embarrassment. “I do approve of punishment though. And I’ve noticed the submissives in the club are becoming extremely uppity.”

Cullen tapped his fingers on the bar. “That’s a serious problem. Are you planning a solution?”

“I am.” Z smiled slowly. “Some sales reps have been after me to let them demo their equipment. I’ve decided to have a machine day.”

Machine? Beth tried to ignore the insistent movement of Nolan’s fingers. What kind of machines would a BDSM club use? Winches?

“Machines?” Cullen asked. “You lost me.”

“Fucking machines, Cullen.” Master Z’s gaze drifted over Beth. “I intend, by the end of that evening, there won’t be a sub able to walk.”

Cullen barked a laugh.

Nolan chuckled, turning to run an assessing gaze over Beth, one that made her stomach knot. “Now that might be fun. I think she likes objects being inserted here and there.” His finger slid into her, and she gasped, her senses flaring.

“Switching to another subject,” Z said. “I plan to remodel upstairs and add another office, perhaps change the kitchen. Can you come by sometime and give me an estimate?”

“How about Tuesday? Maybe around four or so?”

“That will work well.”

As Master Z strolled away, Sir glanced at Cullen. “All that talking left me dry.” He picked up the beer bottle, and Beth could hear the swish of remaining liquid. He smiled at her.

Not again. Losing control on top of the bar, having no… “Please, Sir,” she whispered, and her voice trembled. “No. Please, Master.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Would you prefer to do this elsewhere? Upstairs?”

The private rooms. Alone with a Dom who could do anything. The rooms might not be monitored. Her stomach twisted.

“Not yet, I see.” Sir contemplated her for a minute, his fingers tapping her clit, never letting the excitement die. “You know, there is another bed in this place.”

She frowned, trying to think of where he meant.

“Hand me my toy bag, would you, Cullen?”

The bartender pulled a black bag from the shelves under the bar. “Sure you wouldn’t rather stay here? She sure is a pretty decoration.”

“I have a feeling she’ll be back someday.” After slinging the bag over his right shoulder, Sir plucked Beth off the bar and threw her over his other shoulder. She let out a startled yip, appalled to find herself head down, secured by his hands on her bare thighs.

A chorus of complaints came from the people around the bar.

“Hey, put her back.”

“Cullen, don’t let him walk away with your ornament.”

“It was just getting interesting.”

Her head spun as Sir carried her through the room. Just as she began to get her bearings, she felt one of his hands edge between her legs and rub against her pussy lips. Incredulity filled her as he walked through the crowd, her ass in the air and his fingers in her crotch. She wiggled, kicked a little. Maybe he’d put her down-at least he’d have to move his hand.

He turned his head and nipped her thigh, the sharp pain streaking straight to her clit. “Stay still,” he growled.