Page 7 of With this Ring (Mastered #7)

“Don’t scare the ’nillas.”

Now that she was at the Den, Sasha realized the word actually referred to her. And if she were honest with herself, she’d admit she was plenty scared.

Though Brandy and Master Niles had been welcoming and casual, Sasha was still unnerved.

Knowing she would soon see Gregorio only added to the uncertainty chugging through her veins.

The white band settled around her wrist, and she traced the symbol that signaled that she was a submissive and available.

If Gregorio was here, that would get his attention…unless he’d stopped caring since she’d last seen him, three years ago at Leah’s wedding.

“And before I can let you inside, I just need to be sure that you’re familiar with the club’s safe word,” Lillith said.

She appreciated the attention to safety and consensual play. “Halt.”

“Enjoy your visit.”

“Thank you.” Clutching her duffel bag, Sasha walked past the check-in table and entered what appeared to be the main floor of a spectacular, large mountain home.

In a sweeping glance she took in everything she could immediately see. Living room, kitchen, dining room—including tables laden with all kinds of miniature desserts and salty snacks. Near that was a makeshift bar that she’d been informed served up nothing stronger than sugar and caffeine.

Dozens of people filled the spaces, all in various stages of undress. She had to give it to the clerk at the novelty store. Even though her tiny two-piece outfit scandalized her, no one here even gave her a second glance.

Brandy stood near a stairway, and Sasha made up an excuse to see her.

In reality, she wanted to see the second level.

As she neared, she noted an open door with a light on. Maybe a bathroom? But there was another door past it, blocking her. Private area for the owner and Gregorio? Is that where you are? Are you watching me?

When she’d checked in, she’d stared straight into the security camera.

She’d connected with Gregorio—instinct told her that, even if she had no way of actually confirming it.

Drawing her eyebrows together, pretending to be a little lost, she asked Brandy, “Can you point me in the direction of the locker room?”

“As long as you promise you won’t hide in there all night,” Brandy teased.

She winced. “Am I that obvious?”

“Believe me, I totally understand. I was a bundle of nerves the first time I attended.”

Skeptically, Sasha raised an eyebrow. Brandy seemed so controlled, and she was both classy and poised.

“I swear. I was so nervous, tripping over my tongue as well as my feet.” Then, reassuringly, she added, “If I can do it, you can do it.”

Sasha appreciated the pep talk. But if Brandy had any idea why Sasha was really here, she would never have been allowed to walk through the door.

“I’m here all night if you need a friend.”

“Thank you.” Sasha forced a small smile. “I appreciate that.”

“Jeff runs multiple shuttles back to town. And the shuttle is on a loop. If you want to leave at any point, just let the valet know.”

“You think of everything.”

“Honestly, I’m a bit of an introvert. I love spending time at home with my menagerie.” She shrugged. “So I understand being more comfortable if there’s an escape plan.”

Sasha never entered a place without noting all the ways she could get away, in case things went horrifically wrong. More than once, they had.

“Locker room’s that way.” Brandy pointed. “Remember to enjoy yourself. This is supposed to be fun.”

Fun wasn’t the word she’d use. “Thanks again.”

As she turned to walk away, Brandy’s voice stopped Sasha.

“And Petal?”

She glanced over her shoulder. Again she wondered what had possessed her to use that as a scene name.

“Chocolate helps.”

This time she smiled. “That definitely couldn’t hurt.”

After finding the locker room, she stashed her gear and double-checked that her outfit was still covering her naughty parts. Then she checked her makeup.

When she smoothed her hair, she realized Brandy had been right. Sasha was stalling, something unusual, even when she was in a new situation.

Slowly, she clenched and unclenched her fists before pushing through the exit.

Rock music thumped erotically in the air.

Erotically?

Shaking her head, she shoved the fanciful thought aside. She was only here to get Gregorio’s help.

She wandered through the house, resisting the petit fours as she exited onto the back patio.

Why haven’t you found me yet?

Even though the calendar said it was the end of summer, a chill blanketed the night.

Needing something to occupy her hands, she crossed to the bar and scanned the menu. All the drink names were creative, making her smile, helping her to relax.

“What’ll it be?” the woman behind the bar asked.

Sasha wrinkled her nose. “I can’t decide. Something…” Her gaze landed on the Safe Word. It had blood orange and other juices, along with coconut cream. “Sounds a little like a pina colada.” She pointed to the description. “But different.” Better?

“With a spicy kick.”

Spicy. That certainly fit the vibe of the evening.

The glass was supposedly rimmed with a blend of cayenne pepper and sugar.

“Sure you can handle it?”

Feeling like the question was a bit of a challenge, she grinned. She was already here, out of her comfort zone. Why not go all the way? “Bring it on.”

When the bartender was done mixing the beverage, she added an orange slice and a tiny red pepper as a garnish.

“If it’s too much, you can always use your safe word, and I’ll make you something else.”

Wrinkling her nose, a little nervous, she licked the rim. A shiver went through her.

The bartender grinned.

I can do this.

Her first taste was a wicked contradiction—silky, yet with an afterbite, making a slow heat curl at the back of her throat.

“What do you think?”

“Damn.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Amazing.” Her lips tingled. The only thing that could make it better was a couple of shots of rum… served by a man with a dangerous smile and a voice that whispered promises that had haunted her for years.

“You are brave.” The woman moved off to help others.

After another sip to fortify herself, Sasha glanced around. Thankfully she recognized a couple of women she’d met earlier in Winter Park, and she walked across the patio to join them.

“Isn’t he dreamy?” one of them asked, referring to Zeph Rockwell.

He was talented, for sure. And if she were attracted to blond-headed men with crooning voices and gyrating hips, she’d be gaga like everyone else.

Unfortunately for her, she only had eyes for a Mediterranean god with a shaved head and dark, haunted eyes.

A gust of wind hit her.

“Brr!” one of the women said.

The group of them hurried toward one of the firepits to warm up.

When the conversation turned toward which Dom they each wanted to play with, she suddenly became the fifth wheel.

After listening for a few minutes, she gave a polite smile and excused herself. Near the house, she glanced around one more time. The man she wanted to see was definitely not around.

Why hadn’t he made a move? Gregorio had to know she was here.

A thousand times, she’d gone over tonight’s plan. But it never occurred to her that Gregorio would ignore her.

Maybe he was just busy?

Or perhaps he wasn’t here after all. That thought, she dismissed. She knew they’d connected earlier.

She went back inside and double-checked each room.

With a sigh, she put down her empty glass on a tray.

The only place she hadn’t looked was the dungeon. Dare she go down there?

After swallowing her fear, she gripped the banister and began to descend the staircase.

With each step, the atmosphere became more and more charged with tension.

Different music thumped here, the tones deeper, resonate, more primal than she’d experienced before.

Goose bumps traced up her bare arms.

Needing to steady her nerves, she paused at the bottom before venturing on.

A bar was in a far corner, along with several tables.

An open area was filled with couples, threesomes, even moresomes.

Nearby, a woman was on her knees, chained to the wall. Though her head was bowed, she occasionally glanced up at the tall man standing near her, an expression of adoration on her face. Other than that, she was beautifully still, in a way Sasha wasn’t sure she’d ever experienced or was capable of.

Farther into the dungeon, before reaching the private rooms, a submissive lay on her back, her thighs parted, her hands beneath her buttocks. She wore a blindfold, a thong, and pasties with black tassels.

A man was knelt between her legs, and he talked to her soothingly as he kept a large, plugged-in vibrator pressed against her clit.

The sub whimpered and begged, but her Top was relentless, driving her to orgasm after orgasm.

Other than the amazing time she’d had in the janitor’s closet, Sasha had never experienced anything like that.

Reeling from everything she was seeing and hearing, she moved down the hallway and lifted onto her tiptoes to peer inside one of the private rooms where a Top had his bottom bent over a desk.

She was dressed as a schoolgirl, complete with knee socks and a short skirt that was flipped up to her waist. Her face was turned toward the window, making it possible for Sasha to see the tears streaking down the woman’s cheeks.

Her Top held a wicked-looking ruler in hand, and he was bouncing it off her buttocks.

Still, the woman wasn’t tied or secured in any way. Which meant she was a willing participant.

Part of Sasha longed to run away, go outside and drink in a breath of fresh air, but instead, she remained where she was, transfixed.

The man pulled down the woman’s panties, exposing her already reddened bottom.

And the sight aroused Sasha.

Frantically, she shook her head at the realization. No way could the idea of a spanking be turning her on. No way.

Inside the room, the Top trailed his fingers down the woman’s spine before moving to one side to swipe her bare ass once more with the piece of wood.

In commiseration, Sasha winced.

The woman lifted a single finger. When the Top repeated his stroke, slightly lower on her butt, the woman raised a second finger, counting out her spanks.

How many more did she have to take?

Suddenly, the air around her crackled as if electrified, and Sasha froze.

He was near.

The unmistakable scent of him—power and confidence mixed with masculine spice—surrounded her. An involuntary and undeniably feminine response crashed through her, making her knees weak.

The frantic flutter of her heart warned she was in danger. Not physical, but far, far worse. Emotionally.

She drew on her inner resources to protect her emotions from the man standing behind her.

Suddenly, his hands—strong and unyielding—clamped on her shoulders.

Against her ear, his voice flat with steely calm, he said, “You don’t belong here.”