Dark Citadel

Chapter Three

Kari felt herself turn red.

“Well, she has fantasies.” He grinned. “Good. A gorgeous barbarian chasing you down and taking you against your will? Have you had that one?”

“I—” She bit her lower lip. Was she wearing an I-have-kinky-dreams brand or something?

“I would enjoy chasing you; I wonder if you'd enjoy being caught?” His hand cupped her cheek, turning her head so he could kiss her. Ever so lightly, his mouth teased hers, coaxing her to respond. He had firm lips, but smooth, and she moved closer, wanting more. He traced her lips with his tongue, nibbled on her bottom lip, and when she opened for him, he swept inside, sending her senses reeling.

When he pulled back, her fingers were clamped on his upper arms. She fought to catch her breath. A furnace seemed to have started in her body. God, she wanted to kiss him some more.

He smiled and traced her wet lips with his finger. “Save our place,” he whispered.

Kari blinked, realized a woman stood beside the couch, her gaze on the floor. She wore a red latex corset, a short black skirt, and wrist cuffs. How long had she been standing there?

“Tabitha.”

“Master Dan, may I bring you and your companion something to drink?”

“Kari, what would you like? No, let me see how close I can get.” He studied her, and a crease appeared in his cheek with his smile. “It would have to be like you. Sweet. Not exotic, but straightforward. Honest. A screwdriver or perhaps rum and Coke?”

Her jaw dropped. “Rum and Diet Coke. How did you know?”

He nodded at Tabitha, and the young woman disappeared. “Yes, let's talk about that. Part of a Dominant-submissive relationship is—” His eyes glinted with amusement. “Ah, even the words make you blush. Such a lovely pink.”

And she could feel her face turning redder with the compliment, darn him. She'd taken her turn at teaching sex education classes and never blushed once. Why now?

“Dominant. Submissive,” he said clearly. “Say the words for me, Kari.”

Well, that wasn't asking too much, considering where she was. “Dominant. Submissive,” she said, managing to speak a little louder than a whisper—maybe not much.

His smile was like a reward. “Good. Shall I give you a harder assignment? I am a Dominant.” He tilted his head at her to finish.

“I—I—” But she wasn't. Not really… Was she? It was one thing to be thinking about being, well, controlled in bed, and quite another to apply an actual label to herself. Labels had meaning. And made everything far too real. This was just supposed to be…an experiment.

“Mmmph, that is a hard admission, not one you are ready for. Let's put a limit on it then. For the next hour, until nine o'clock, I am a Dominant.”

She could do an hour. In fact, that's exactly what she wanted to do. “For the next hour, until nine o'clock, I am a submissive,” she said firmly.

And she shivered.

That smile again. “Brave girl.”

Tabitha arrived with their drinks, set them on the table quietly, and departed without a word. “Is she a submissive?”

He handed over her drink, took his. “Yes. In training here.”

Training. You had to train to be ordered around?

The skin around his eyes crinkled with humor. “You're here for three evenings of classes.” He stroked his knuckles along her jaw. “Training is for those wanting to go deeper into the lifestyle, not something you need to worry about.”

“Okay. Good.” She sipped her drink, blinked at the strength, and sipped again. “How many people end up drunk?”

“None.” He drank some of his, clear as water, and set it back on the table. “Master Z limits everyone to two drinks.”

Now how could they enforce that? Then she remembered how Sir's big hand had gripped Buck's shoulder, and she felt a tickle of laughter. Enforcement obviously wasn't a problem. And she should pay for her own drink. She fumbled at the pocket of her dress where she'd tucked her key and some money. “The barmaid didn't say what my rum and Coke cost.”

“No cost. Drinks are included in membership fees, or for you, the price of the class.”

Oh. She put her hands back in her lap. “What happens now?”

“Now we simply talk about what suits your needs.”

She stared down into her drink, watching the bubbles. His silence had her looking up, right into his observant eyes.

“Needs is another word that bothers you,” he said. “Talking about sex isn't something you do, is it?”

What, did he have some sort of view into her head? “It wasn't an acceptable topic of conversation when I was growing up, no.” Her father could expound for hours on purity and innocence without ever saying the sex word.

“Mmmph, in that case, let me run through some options, and we'll take it from there.”

Options sounded good. Were there options that were the equivalent of sticking one toe in the water? She took another sip of her drink. “All right.”

“I have one request first.”

A request in this place might involve just about anything. She eyed him warily. Nodded.

“Can I get you to sit on my lap while we talk?” He ran a finger over her lower lip, slowly, and she grew aware of how soft her own lips were. His mouth curved up in a wicked smile. “I promise not to put my hands anywhere you don't want them.”

“But why would I sit on your lap?”

“Sweetheart, it will make it easier for you; sex isn't something to be discussed at arm's length, now is it?”

Sex. With him. She might consider this evening an experiment, but sex wasn't that way. It was personal. He'd be touching her. Intimately. But she wanted this; she really did. “All right.”

She set her drink on the table and rose to her feet, smoothing her dress down. He slid into her place. Reclining back against the armrest, he put his legs up and pulled her into his lap.

With her feet still on the floor, she sat stiffly until he laughed and pulled her down against his chest, her head in the hollow of his shoulder. Sit on his lap? This was more like snuggling…and pretty nice. After a moment, she let her hand rest on his bare chest where the vest had fallen away. She ruffled the crisp hair, tracing her fingers over the hard contours of his chest. He was so darned big, she actually felt tiny next to him—well, on top of him—like her weight was nothing to him.

His voice rumbled through his chest. “There we go. You fit into my arms very nicely—a nice, soft armful.”

His obvious enjoyment warmed her, made her feel feminine and attractive, something she'd been missing for a while now. For two years, actually, since Curt had left her for some hot, skinny artist.

“What was that thought?” Dan asked. She could feel his fingers in her hair, unpinning the French braid.

“Noth—”

“Kari.”

She could hear the warning in his voice, and somehow she didn't want to disappoint him. “I was thinking about my ex-fiancé.”

“And?”

“And how fat and frigid he made me feel, okay?” she snapped and tried to sit up, but he tucked an arm across her waist and held her in place. Easily.

“Stay here, little one.” He laughed, a low, growling sound. “You have a temper buried under all that politeness. I wonder what else is buried down there.”

“I'm sorry.” He'd only been nice to her, and she'd lashed out.

“I'm not. You know, with both the temper and the worries about your size, you remind me of Z's sub. Personally I like women with some padding. I like lush.” He stroked up to just under her breasts, and she froze.

“And curvy.” He ran his hand across her hip, squeezed her bottom, continued down her thigh. Everywhere his hand touched, her skin wakened like spring after a hard winter, and warmth washed through her.

“You have the loveliest fair skin,” he murmured, trailing his fingers down her arm. “Soft and creamy, and those pillowy lips of yours would tempt an angel to sin. I'm no angel.” His hand tangled in her loose hair, tipping her head back, and his mouth settled on hers. His lips were firm, demanding, opening hers and taking possession without mercy.

When he pulled back, she was breathing hard, her hand fisted in his vest. God, the man could kiss.

“And only an idiot would call you cold,” he murmured. “Now, back to business. First of all, I need to find out what kind of a submissive you might be. I think I know, but let's be sure.”

“Submissives come in different types?” How could she know so little? When she got home, she was going to take a hammer to that stupid dead computer. “I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. Can we try multiple choice?”

He laughed. “All right. A: You want to serve a master, making him meals, doing whatever he wants, around the house or in bed. B: You want to play a role for a short time, be a schoolgirl or a secretary, but you'd set up your own rules with your top—ah, the person in charge. C: You want to give up control for sex but not especially for anything else. D: You like pain and want someone to deal it out.”

That was quite a list. “People really want all those different things?”

“Oh, definitely. That was just the short list.” He tugged on her hair. “Give me a letter, sweetheart.”

Well, she knew what she wanted. Why the heck couldn't she be as blasé about sex as her friends were? She wet her lips. “C. We—I came here—” She sighed. “C.”

“Good enough,” he said easily. “Choice C for sex.”

At least he hadn't jumped up and yelled, You want what? in horror. She realized her fingernails were digging into his side and made her hand relax.

Taking hold of her hips, he moved her lower on his lap and slid his arm tighter around her until his hand settled under her breasts. His other hand stroked her neck, her collarbone. She sighed in pleasure, squirming a little to get even closer, and froze when she realized what she was squirming on. He was not only hard; he was huge.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“Don't be sorry about giving someone pleasure, sweetling.” His fingers played with her hair that spilled down her front. Somehow several buttons on her dress had come undone, and his hand dropped to rest on the beginning swell of her breast with his other hand just below. One above, one below, like he was holding her breasts captive between the two. Why did that seem erotic?

“How do you feel about being told what to do in bed?”

She caught her breath as the image sent a wave of heat through her. “Um.”

But he didn't wait for her answer, just murmured, “That's a go.”

A second later, he moved his hand from below her breasts and slid it into her dress where more buttons had come undone. His hand settled back to where it had been before, only now his warm palm lay directly on her naked skin, grazing the lower edge of her breasts. She stiffened and then forced herself to relax. She was here for sex, right?

“Some people like being tied down, kept from moving while their partner pleasures them.”

She managed not to squeak.

“Your body likes that idea.”

Another pause and she realized she was rubbing her thighs together and stopped immediately. Tied up for sex. Being ordered around was one thing, but restrained with ropes or handcuffs? Too much. She hadn't liked the idea at all when Buck had tried it. “No,” she said shakily. “I think you're wrong.”

“Let's see.” He touched his lips to hers, kissed her sweetly, thoroughly, his tongue tangling with hers. When he drew back, she smiled with pleasure.

“That's called vanilla sex,” he murmured.

Suddenly he gripped her wrists with hard hands, holding her so she couldn't move. “And this is nonvanilla sex.” He took her mouth again, plunging deeply, possessing her ruthlessly. When she tried to move, his grip tightened on her arms, holding her in place.

She couldn't move. Every nerve in her body shocked to life as if lightning struck her. Arousal seared through her. She bit back a moan.

He released her, quirking a cynical eyebrow.

Deep inside, her body shook like a palm tree in a tropical storm. What was happening to her? She pulled in a breath. “That didn't…” Her voice trailed off. She was lying to herself and to him. “You're right.”

“I like your honesty.” Wrapping his arms around her again, he stroked her back. Her cheek rested on his bare chest. His heart beat in a slow, relaxing rhythm, and her own pulse slowed as the claws of desire unhooked from her.

“On your last night, you'll have to take a look at the costumes the members wear,” he said conversationally. It's pretty amazing some of the things people put on. Of course, since it's beginners' night, tonight's attire is pretty sedate.” As he talked, he slid one hand into her dress again, nestling up against her breasts, the other resuming its place just under her collarbone.

“You know, some people like a little pain now and then: spanking, pinching, tiny punishments.”

It was as if he were having this conversation with himself, except the images he was putting into her head were just… A man spanking her bare bottom? Jeez, no. And yet, she actually felt herself dampen.

“Mmm-hmm, yes, I think you'll need a little reprimand now and then.”

Her breath hitched. He wouldn't really, now would he?

He rubbed his chin against the top of her head. “You smell good, little sub. Like soap and flowers and…woman. And your hair is as long and silky as any man could want.”

Okay, she'd just lie here all night, snuggled into his naked chest, and let him talk to her with that low, low voice. Listening to him was better than having sex with—with anyone she'd ever been with before.

“You know, some people like more pain: being whipped hard, pins inserted under their skin, hot wax dripped on them.”

She froze. That… He wouldn't. She shoved against his chest, tried to get free.

“No, that's not for you. Definitely not.”

Body stiff, she tried to slide off him.

One arm held her tight against him as his other hand stroked her hair as if he were petting a cat, settling her down. “Truthfully, Kari, I don't like the hardcore S and M either. Real pain doesn't turn me on, and I can see you feel the same.”

She took a breath and let herself relax. A little. “Do people really do that? Here?”

“Yes. You'll see some of that, maybe on Wednesday, definitely on Saturday. It's not something you need to do if you're not into it.”

“Well, that's good. Thank you.” He was so warm and his arms so comforting that when he tilted her head back for another kiss, she didn't resist at all.

Pulling back, he looked her in the eyes and said, “If anytime, anything I do or we do goes beyond what you can stand, then you say 'red,' and everything stops. That's your safe word, sweetheart. Red. Make sense?”

Cool. She could stop everything when she wanted. The sense of relief mingled with confusion. That didn't seem like she was giving up much control.

He kissed her again, and his big hand slid up to cover her breast, his thumb brushing across her nipple. Each touch sent zings of intense sensation spearing through her until she was squirming again.

“Kari, the safe word is for pain. Or something you absolutely can't stand. You use it for anything less, and the night is over. I pack you up, and you go home.” His intent gaze trapped hers. “I am going to give you what you want, not what your mama told you is proper. I'm going to push your limits, sweetie.”

He nuzzled her until his lips were against her ear. “And you're going to scream as you come over and over again.”

She gasped, could feel her nipples harden, and so could he, considering his hand was right there on her breast. He chuckled, sucked on her earlobe, and sent chills chasing across her skin.

“Ahem.” Behind them, a woman cleared her throat. Kari jerked to a sitting position, embarrassed at her behavior in public. What had she been thinking?

A DM in a gold-trimmed black bustier and black latex leggings stood by the couch. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said, her lips curving up.

Sir sighed. “Olivia. You, as always, have a crappy sense of timing. What?”

“Z said you are to participate in the newbie class. Both of you. Raoul's waiting for you.”

“Well, hell. We'll be there.”

Sir looked at Kari. “Up you go,” he said briskly, pushing her to her feet. “You'll enjoy this, I think. At least the last part of the class.” He buttoned her dress, his fingers sliding into the gaps, teasing her sensitive skin, making her regret the interruption.

When he was finished, he ran his knuckles across her breasts, up and down over her jutting nipples. He grinned and murmured, “Guess you're just cold, huh?”

She couldn't keep the laugh bottled up.

They joined the thirty-or-so beginners milling around at the end of the bar. To Kari's surprise, the couples included not only male-female, but also gays and lesbians. With one heterosexual couple, the man wore cuffs and a collar. So men could be submissive? Too strange.

Then a gleam of blond hair caught Kari's gaze, and her eyes met Buck's. Grinning, he started toward her and then spotted Master Dan. A scowl darkened his long face, but he stopped.

Even as Kari breathed a sigh of relief, guilt welled within her. She'd arrived with him; she should still be with him.

“All right, people, let's get started.” The dungeon monitor teaching the class was an inch or two shorter than Sir, but so thickly muscled he looked like he could pick up her car without breaking a sweat. “Master Dan,” he said. “I've got a shy crowd here, and I want to run through some basic bondage. Bring your sub up here.”

What?

Sir's arm tightened, and he swept her along, despite her attempt at planting her feet. “Don't worry, sweetling. This is show-and-tell with all your clothes on and no sex.”

Well, she was used to being in front of people, if teenage students counted as people, something she rather doubted. She shouldn't have a problem with this.

Master Dan nodded at the teacher. “Kari, this is Master Raoul.”

She smiled at the man. Was she permitted to talk? Sir hadn't said.

As if he'd read her mind, he murmured, “Say hello, sweetheart.”

“I'm very pleased to meet you,” she said.

“Hello, Kari.” The DM gave her a slow, appreciative look before frowning at Sir. “You always were Z's favorite.”

“I know.” Master Dan flashed a wicked grin. “So get moving. I have other things to do tonight.”

“I bet.” Turning back to the class, Master Raoul picked up a pair of metal handcuffs from the bar top. “This is the basic handcuff. Adequate, but if you get your sub excited and she yanks on them, she'll have nasty bruises for a few days. And it's easy to get them too tight. With these, as with all restraints, be sure you check the circulation frequently. Doms, this is a biggie; if you restrain someone, you never leave them alone.”

He set the handcuffs down and held up leather wrist cuffs with buckles. “Much more comfortable and safer for circulation. If your sub deserves it, you can even buy lined ones. Master Dan, if you would demonstrate.”

Master Dan took the cuffs and held out one hand. “Give me your wrist, Kari,” he said.

Her heart gave a hard thud, and she hesitated.

His eyebrows rose. “Now, Kari.”

Her hand plopped into his before she'd come up with all the reasons she should say no.

He buckled first one, then the other cuff on, running a finger under to be certain they were snug but not tight. Pulling her wrists in front of her, he hooked the cuffs together. The commanding look in his eyes and the feel of his firm hands on her arms made her stomach quiver and heat pool in her lower half.

When he finished, he stepped back, studying her face. His lips curved in a hard smile.

Trying to ignore the dampness seeping between her thighs, she yanked at the cuffs. She definitely couldn't get free of them, but still, this wasn't all that scary. Her hands were in front of her; she could defend herself.

Master Raoul nodded. “Basic restraint. Hands in front, but not very intimidating. Leaves a lot of room for evasion. Dan?”

To Kari's shock, Master Dan set his hand on one breast, cupping her firmly. Even as a thrill rushed through her, she instinctively knocked his fingers off with her cuffed hands and glared at him.

“Not a very obedient sub you have there,” Master Raoul commented dryly as the group laughed.

Oh, heavens, had she embarrassed him? She shouldn't have reacted without thinking. Kari risked a glance.

Although he didn't smile, his cheek creased, and his eyes were amused as he unclipped her wrists.

“Hands behind the back will help solve that little aggression problem,” Master Raoul said.

Master Dan stepped behind Kari and clipped the cuffs together at the small of her back. This time, she yanked at them unsuccessfully, and a shiver ran through her at the helpless feeling. With her hands behind her back, she could do nothing to—

“And as you see, your sub is much more manageable,” Master Raoul said.

Master Dan's hard chest pressed against her back as he reached around her, one arm securing her waist. His other hand closed on her breast. She jumped, squeaked, and couldn't move, couldn't get free as he caressed her, his fingers sending erotic sensations swirling through her.