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TICK TOCK

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A few weeks later, I walked into a fucking dungeon. A godforsaken place where I sure as hell didn’t belong, but fuck if it didn’t feel like I’d been summoned.

I was on a tip about some prick who owed the Bastards a chunk of change and thought he could vanish without one of us coming after him. Turns out, he’d been spending his nights at a place called Velvet Chains .

It wasn’t your average bar. Not some piss-stained dive on the edge of the quarter. Nah, this place was deeper, darker. A BDSM dungeon disguised as decadence. Where people didn’t pretend to be normal, they let the filth inside them shine. I had to admit, I was envious. The confidence I lacked, they had in waves.

The place was decorated in red velvet and leather. The low lighting brought a dark ambiance where people felt safe in the shadows to act on their dirty deeds. The leather reeked of sweat, sin, and submission. It was the kind of place where the moans were real, the pain was pleasure, and the masks came off the second you stepped through the blacked-out doors.

Now I’d seen some shit in my time. War, betrayal, blood sprayed across tile floors…but this? This was something else.

The air was thick, like honey laced with gasoline. You could choke on the sex in the air. It gripped you by the throat, made your heart stutter and your cock twitch, and you weren’t even sure why.

I was supposed to be looking for the target. Find him, remind him who he owed, and maybe break a bone or two if he didn’t listen. Simple shit.

But then I saw her.

Perched on a velvet chaise looking like sin incarnate. A black leather collar wrapped around her throat, decorated with a single silver bell that jingled when she moved. She looked like she was someone’s favorite toy, and I wondered if she belonged to someone.

Long, dark hair spilled down her back, catching the light in waves. Her legs were crossed, smooth and lethal, wrapped in black lace. And her eyes… fuck me , those eyes. Big. Brown. Smoldering like sweet bourbon left too long in the sun. They were innocence dipped in fire.

She didn’t look at me at first. I didn’t need to. But I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t fucking think straight. There was a pull, so fucking deep I could feel it in my bones. It was if some part of me recognized her before my mind could catch up. There was something about her, something that reached into my chest and squeezed until I forgot how to breathe.

She shifted. Just enough for that bell to chime, her gaze lifting slowly, with purpose. And when her eyes found mine?

Fuuuuck , the world stopped.

No smile. No blush. Just raw, electric awareness that punched through the smoke and noise like a bullet to the chest.

She just held me there, pinned by those impossibly deep brown eyes. And I knew right then... I wasn’t walking out of Velvet Chains the same man who walked in.

I told myself I was still looking for my mark. My eyes kept sweeping the room, tracking movement, reading the shadows, but the truth was…I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.

She moved differently. Not like the rest of the chaos around me. She wasn’t the type to demand attention, it just happened . Even in a room full of bare skin, of sweat and sin, she stood out.

I watched her carefully as I made my way around the room. One eye on the shadows the other on the curvy brunette who was currently on her knees, head slightly bowed, back straight, waiting for something. Or someone .

She didn’t seem to have any shame in her actions, or fear. No , there was definitely a purpose in it. She chose to be on her knees and my cock twitched, loving the idea.

The tiny silver bell chimed softly every time she moved, and I wondered what it would sound like when I fucked her. Because I had no doubt I wasn’t letting this one slip out of my hands.

At first, I thought the collar was jewelry, some kind of gothic kink thing. But as I watched her move through the room, crawling on all fours, hips swaying, heart shaped ass in the air, dark hair trailing behind her like a whip of silk, I realized that collar meant something more. It meant she was some sort of pet waiting on her master to dominate her.

I searched the room, eyes narrowing. Watching to see if any of these fucks would claim her. My hands fisted as I kept myself very still. There was nothing fragile about this woman. Even on her hands and knees, she radiated something sharp. A quiet, slow-burning fire.

I didn’t know what the hell it meant. Didn’t know the rules in this place, or why a woman like her would let someone clip a leash to her neck like a damn dog, or cat based on her outfit. But something about it got under my skin.

Not in a bad way…in a dangerous way. And I couldn’t stop staring.

Suddenly her eyes were on me. It started with a glance, a subtle teasing. Her eyes met mine across the club floor, curious and amused. It was as if she’d sensed the predator in the room and wanted to see if I’d bite. She had no fucking clue just how hard I wanted to bite her. Enough to leave my mark on her. Hard enough so that she’d remember who I was.

She didn’t look away. Just tilted her head slightly and gave me the softest smile, full of knowing.

My jaw clenched. Pulse kicked. She batted her lashes, an invite, and I curled my hand into a fist.

This was a game. A slow burn.

This went on for a few minutes until a man approached out of nowhere. He was shirtless and barefoot, clad in only black jeans. He didn’t speak, didn’t really need to. No one here really did. They just obeyed and did what was demanded of them. I suppose that’s why you come to these places, to lose yourself.

He held the end of her leash in one hand, and when he tugged, she lowered her eyes and followed. No hesitation. No fight. Her actions sent a white-hot crack of something possessive through my chest.

I wasn’t thinking anymore, I just moved , stalking forward, ready to rip the leash from the bastard’s hand and remind him what it felt like to get your ribs rearranged.

But she turned to me and just briefly shook her head once. Her eyes said, I’m okay.

And then she gave me a soft smile that said, watch me.

I stood in the middle of the floor as she crawled onto the stage on all fours, back arched, her ass swaying as she moved like a goddess on a leash. The bell around her neck jingled with every shift and with every chime my cock stood at attention.

I was getting a fucking Pavlovian response to that damn bell. It chimed and my cock jerked for her. She was perfection wrapped in submission. Poised, trained, glowing under the low red lights.

And then the man followed her up. He looked cold and stoic as he ran his fingers through her hair and pressed her down until her cheek met the cool stage floor.

She didn’t resist, simply closed her eyes as he began to circle her. He held a flogger in hiss hand which he suddenly swiped through the air. It hit the floorboards with a powerful crack that put me on edge. But she didn’t even flinch. On the contrary, she arched her back like a good kitten, swaying that beautiful ass in a tempting gyration that left my blood boiling.

The flogger suddenly came down on her and I could hear a soft purring moan. It cracked the air again as the leather strands splayed along her back and thighs, leaving soft red marks behind.

My fists were tight, white-knuckled. I hated this. Hated seeing someone lay hands on her. But when I looked at her face it wasn’t pain that I saw, it was pure bliss.

Her eyes fluttered shut, lips parted, soft moans leaving her throat like music. She wanted it. And when her hips lifted, begging for more, my cock twitched to life in my jeans like it knew something my mind didn’t want to admit.

I wanted her like that. I wanted to own that look on her face.

He struck her again, thighs, ass, her lower back. Slow, rhythmic. It was all measured. And she took it like she was made for it, her fingers curling into the stage, breathing through the burn, living in that submission.

And just when I thought I couldn’t take another second of it, the lights shifted. Music swelled low and heavy.

The man stroked her back reassuringly, whispered something in her ear and she nodded, taking his hand as he pulled her up. I could tell her thighs were shaking. They bowed and people around them clapped softly. Her eyes fixed on me as she moved around the room, heading right toward me.