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She reestablished her grip on Merrick’s hand as they reached the lower level, angling herself behind him as the atmosphere struck her like a fist. Sexual tension throbbed like the heart of a living being, edged with violence, arrowing into her belly.

It reminded her of the orgy, only without the frantic urgency to mate.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Merrick,” she whispered.

He stopped immediately, looking down at her with concern. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Why is it so busy?” There were people everywhere, in different stages of undress, consumed by what they were doing.

“The dungeon is a popular area, darlin’. Top of the range equipment, safety without sacrificing privacy, immersing in the thrill of playing alongside likeminded people. Liam likes to think the bar is the social heart of the club but, for me, it’s here where pleasure and pain flow like a river, dragging subs into the current and sweeping them away.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. “If it’s too much, you can tell me. Bringing you here wasn’t my plan just yet. Someone jumped the gun before I was ready.”

She grimaced, wondering if she should tell him that someone was actually her, not Elias. It was stupidly embarrassing to confess she’d turned into a sweaty, anxious mess ten minutes after he left the bar, although she was proud of herself for hiding it from the others for almost an hour before she disintegrated into an emotional wreck.

The really tall blond guy, Evander, had offered to walk her home to the cabin and sit with her until Merrick came back, but that just made her fret all the more, even though Callie said she’d go with them.

Elias had pinned her in her seat with those knowing, devilishly blue eyes and cocked his head. Rubbed his thumb over his lips thoughtfully as he regarded her, then simply asked, “Would you like me to take you to him, Tamsyn?”

When she’d nodded, there was a sudden flurry of movement and everyone was up on their feet, forming a band of explorers ready to go hiking through the dark and cold to find her lover.

Though she hardly knew any of them, she’d felt the strangest feeling of belonging.

Now she was here, in so far over her head she couldn’t see the surface of who she’d been, preparing for the physical and mental exertion of evolving into whatever she was meant to become.

Merrick squeezed her hand. “Little owl, we don’t have to be here. I’ve got floggers and toys at home I can show you. The dungeon is perfectly safe—we have security monitoring the scenes, and all the equipment meets every standard to the highest criteria—but I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“I want to see.”Understand. Accept. Belong. “I want to try.”

“All right. A small, simple scene.” Glancing around the darkened areas, he pursed his lips thoughtfully. Spying something in the far corner, he tugged gently on her hand. “Follow me, don’t let go.”

That was the last thing she intended to do. The toes of her new sneakers were almost catching the heels of his boots, she was so close to him. Despite her simple attire of a casual sweater and jeans, which were woefully out of place amongst lingerie and leather, she felt horribly inadequate and overdressed.

When she took herself out of the equation and actually observed what was going on around her, she decided it was fascinating. Scary, yes, but a study in what she assumed was basic human nature exposed at the raw core.

Men and women tied up, strapped down, bent over tables and barrels or kneeling on various surfaces. Face up, butt up, twisted into positions she couldn’t fathom. Hanging from beams by their wrists, standing on their tiptoes; one man was even bound in ropes from neck to knees, swinging gently in a circle without any part of him touching the floor.

She saw ropes, chains, leather cuffs, handcuffs, things she couldn’t explain.

Merrick led her to an unoccupied area with only a padded triangular box with a flat top as the main attraction. Releasing her hand, he took a step back, holding up a finger as her feet automatically followed. “The rules in the club are stricter than we have at home, little owl. Here, I’m Master Merrick or Sir. I don’t mind which you use.”

Her breath grew shallow. “O-Okay… um, Sir.”

“Good girl. Remember the safewords?”

“Red, yellow, green.” She flinched when his eyebrow lifted. “Sir.”

“Don’t shy away. I’m not going to smack you around if you forget to use the honorific, Tamsyn. Not yet anyway.” He winked at her. “Submission is all about finding yourself and allowing your mind freedom. When you submit, you’re giving all of yourself to me—the good, the bad, and the ugly. I want it all, little owl, from every drop of pleasure I wring out of you to the stress, anxiety, doubts. I take it all, take the weight of it, and let you fly.”

That sounded kind of nice, actually.

“In return, when I give you an order, you obey. Quickly, without hesitation. The only exception to that is if whatever I ask you to do goes against your hard limits or your personal safety, in which case you use your safeword.”

Tamsyn chewed her lip, then nodded.

He frowned at her. “Learn to vocalize your answers. I can read your body language, your eyes, and know when you’re lying or in pain, darlin’. I need your voice as well. Think you can do that for me?”

Her throat clicked on a swallow. “Yes, Master Merrick.”

“Fuck, that sounds good, coming from you.” He closed his eyes as if savoring the feeling. After a moment, he exhaled slowly and opened them again. “You’ve got thirty seconds to get naked and sit right here,” he told her in a slightly deeper tone, patting the padded box. “I’m gonna get a couple things and be right back. Donotleave this area.”