Page 38 of House of Cards (The Devil’s Den #2)

Smith

“Stop the press,” Zoey says with a mock gasp. “You’re letting me wear underwear this time?” She snaps the elastic of her tiny black thong against her hip and winces. “Ow.”

“You should be grateful.” I’m not just referring to the underwear. I held off Myles for another three days before he started calling me ‘old chap’. Pushing him further would have ended in disaster.

I grab her ankle and slide her foot closer to the bottom right prong of the X-cross so I can latch it in place with the cuff.

She wrinkles her nose at me. “Your kindness usually comes at a price.” When I say nothing, she waggles her eyebrows at me. “Bathtub ring a bell? Bubbles, lavender, touch of non -erotic asphyxiation?”

“Keep mouthing off, and you’ll be doing this naked.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

I yank the buckle into place and stare up at Zoey from where I’m crouching. It takes considerable effort to keep my eyes focused on her face when her ass is a mere inch or two from my mouth.

All I want to do is mark it with my teeth. Hard enough to draw blood.

We’re in the same room she first met Howler.

Severely white, ostentatiously empty apart from the X-cross, a couch, and a mattress upholstered in white leather.

Hurriedly standing, I grab her arm and lift it to the top right cuff. “Training.”

She snorts. “Letting you choke me to death for real will be less painful than watching you play teacher. Besides, I don’t need training. I already know what to do. Stand here and make all the appropriate noises while your sicko client assaults me.”

“No one’s choking you,” I mutter, hating how excited my cock gets whenever I’m this close to Zoey’s body and now, apparently, whenever she says the word ‘choke’. “And the training’s not for you.”

“Oh.” Zoey’s voice is a malicious little purr. “I thought you were a bit clumsy last time, but I didn’t want to say anything.”

I grab her chin before I can stop myself, wrenching her head around so I can glare into her eyes. My heart is beating so hard it feels like it’ll plow through my chest.

“Keep at it, kitten.”

Her lashes flutter with unease at the warning in my voice, but hardly a second later, she’s visibly steeling herself. “I know what’s going on here.” She smirks at me. “Can’t handle me yourself, so you’re bringing in reinforcements.”

Jesus Christ.

I don’t even realize what I’m about to do until I’ve ripped off my tie and slung it around Zoey’s throat. She gasps, her eyes going wide as the satin tightens against her skin.

“You brought this on yourself,” I growl as I drag the fabric up her throat.

Just before the tie slides between her lips, she blurts out, “Wait! I’m sorry!”

I pause, eyes narrowed, waiting for a full apology

She licks her lips, tosses her hair. “I’m sorry you’re such a pathetic—“ She cuts off with an indignant, “ Mm !” when I tie off the gag behind her head.

I dip my head until my mouth is right by her ear. “Think you’re sorry now?” I murmur. “Since the day we met, I’ve had rope burns planned for your wrists and bite marks for your tits.”

I pat her cheek, smiling when she glares daggers at me above the strip of shimmery black fabric. “There’s my good girl.”

The client arrives a moment later, as I’m busy blindfolding her. She tries to buck away from my touch, but there’s nowhere for her to go.

A guy in his late twenties wearing khakis and a pastel blue polo with the collar popped swaggers into the room. He flicks his head, and then sweeps a hand through his long bangs, grinning like an idiot when he sees Zoey.

I already hate him before he’s opened his fucking mouth.

“Hey, bro, you must be?—”

“The Dom.” I don’t mean for it to come out as a growl, but here we are.

The guy hesitates, but his entitled grin stays right where it is. He cuts his eyes to Zoey, who’s still trying to shake the blindfold off her head, and keeps whining into the gag.

“Damn. No wonder you guys are so fucking pricey.” He lets out a low whistle that makes the hair on my nape stand to attention. “What’s cooking, good looking?”

Zoey freezes. Then she turns her blindfolded head and, somehow, stares straight at me. I can feel her despising me, despite the cloth over her eyes.

“Are you experienced in impact play?” I ask, trying to draw the idiot’s attention away from Zoey.

“Oh, yeah, man. I love tying ‘em down and giving it to ‘em hard and rough. Til they’re squealing my name, you know?” The idiot’s grin is still there, and Christ, how badly I want to backhand it off his smug face.

I turn and give the two-way mirror behind me a long stare. I’m not the only one who vets clients, so this imbecile must be the work of either Myles or Rich.

“Got any dildos? Fucking love slapping ‘em with dildos.”

I face the guy so fast he reels back like I’m about to punch him in the guts.

Which I am.

“No more talking.” I barely get the words out past my clenched jaw. “Just shut up and listen.”

The guy’s smile slides a bit, but then it’s right back again. He nods a few times as he steps to the side and starts taking off his belt.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” I rasp.

“Using my belt.” He yanks it out of his belt loops as Zoey yells into her gag. Folding it in half, he makes it snap.

I struggle to restrain myself as I lean over and gently pull the belt from the guy’s hands. Then I toss it over my shoulder. “No.”

The guy frowns and opens his mouth.

I hold out a finger, tutting him. “No.”

He pouts like the adolescent fuck he is.

I take a deep breath and start rubbing my palm over Zoey’s ass. “After you’ve discussed their safe word, hard limits, and anything in particular you’d like to do to them, or have done to you, during a session, it’s crucial that you prepare your sub’s body.”

“Sub, yeah,” Chad murmurs absently, his eyes now locked on Zoey’s backside. “Fuck, what a sweet ass.”

Air billows into my lungs as I take a slow breath. “You’re talking again.”

Chad holds up his hands. “Sorry, sorry.” Then he tucks them under his armpits, grinning at Zoey’s backside like he doesn’t trust himself not to grab her.

Christ, I don’t trust him either. I move between them, forcing him to take a step back as I massage Zoey’s other ass cheek.

“Massaging brings more blood to the area. It’ll ensure the sub feels more pleasure and more pain.”

Chad grins like the fucking idiot he is, but thankfully, remains silent. Guess I’m putting on a good enough show to keep him entertained.

“When your sub is warmed up, you can start with the flat of your hand.” I demonstrate by giving Zoey a solid thump on her ass.

She huffs against the gag, but otherwise doesn’t react.

“Different surfaces and rigidity provide distinct sensations for the sub. You can feel their body’s response through most toys, but when you’re starting off, I’d suggest using your hand. ”

“What about a paddle? Or a flogger?”

I don’t know what disturbs me more. That this idiot—I can’t remember if his name is Chad, or Thad, or Brad—might have done some research and he’s still an idiot, or that he watched enough fetish porn to have picked up a few words, and now thinks he’s capable of handling a session of impact play without harming his sub.

Physically and psychologically.

“Not today.”

“Can I at least fuck her after?” he whines.

“Not. Today.”

Not fucking ever .

I shove away that silent promise and deliver a few more solid thumps to Zoey’s ass. When she moans into the gag, my cock comes out of its slumber and starts paying way too much attention to what’s happening.

Christ, this is a first.

I’ve never gotten a hard-on during training before.

“Don’t land on the same area repeatedly. Spread the load?—”

Chad giggles.

“—so she doesn’t bruise as easily.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Chad steps forward, working his hand like he’s about to start arm wrestling someone. “Let me have a turn.”

The sudden intense pressure in my chest makes it impossible to reply. I fight the urge to grab him when he pulls back his arm and have to school my face when he lands a blow on Zoey’s plump backside.

She grunts angrily into the gag, throwing her head around like she wishes she could see the idiot who just dared to touch her.

I love how hard she fights.

Chad slaps her again. Right on the same spot.

Zoey yelps into the gag, her arms cording as she tries to pull herself away.

And here I thought it wasn’t possible to hate someone more than I loathe him. I dredge up the last reserves of my patience and force my voice to be calm and controlled when I say, “Not on the same?—”

Chad’s third blow strikes exactly where his first two landed.

Zoey squeals, the gag barely muffling the sound.

He put his whole weight into that blow, and when he turns and gives me that smug look, like he just one-upped me in a game of fucking darts, I don’t even realize I’m going to punch him until my fist connects with his jaw.

He goes sprawling with a shriek of pain. Zoey flinches, her head swiveling as she tries to figure out what’s happening.

“I told you to distribute the impact,” I growl through my teeth, storming up to the kid as he scrambles to his feet. “If you can’t follow a simple instruction like that, then what the fuck are we doing here?”

A cough comes through on the intercom system, and I stiffen.

I’d completely forgotten about Myles and whoever else he brought with him to watch.

Fuck.

I lift my hands, taking a step back and affecting as close to a professional face as I can. Judging from the shock on the kid’s face, I’m not getting it quite right.

“The fuck did you do that for, man?” he demands, fingering his jaw and staring at me with such horror you’d have sworn I’d broken it. “I’m new at this.”

“Are you new to the English language, too?”

The kid throws a glare toward the two-way mirror, and then back at me, cupping his jaw as he storms past. “Fuck this.”

“Kid, wait?—”

Chad spins around, spots of red on his pale face. “Kid?” He stabs a finger in my direction as he backs up toward the door. “Fuck you .”