Page 8 of With this Ring (Mastered #7)

His voice…

Awareness skittered through her, igniting her nerve endings.

Suddenly she remembered the gruff notice in his tone that night when he’d ordered her to do all those wicked things.

As soon as she’d been able to escape from the wedding, she’d gone back to her hotel room and taken care of herself in the shower.

That had only taken the edge off long enough for her to get into her bed…where she’d brought herself off the second time.

Even that hadn’t diminished her craving to have Gregorio fill, stretch her, claim her completely.

“You need to leave.”

“Still trying to tell me what to do?” Last time they’d been together, she’d done everything he ordered. In retrospect, it scared her how willing she’d been to turn over control to him.

“I don’t recall you objecting.”

A shudder rippled through her and his knowing laugh proved he’d felt it as well.

“Why are you here, Petal?”

She longed to turn and face him, but he held her prisoner, forcing her to watch the scene.

In front of them, the Top dipped his fingers between the bottom’s thighs.

Even through the door, the man’s words rang clear. “You’re wet.”

How is that possible?

That ruler had to hurt, and the nasty red welts on her ass proved it.

The Top tossed the ruler to the side, and it clattered onto the desk near the submissive’s head.

Were they done?

Thank God. Maybe now she could deal with Gregorio.

But he didn’t release her.

As she watched, Top stepped back to unbuckle his belt. Sasha told herself she didn’t want to watch—simultaneously, she couldn’t force herself to look away.

When she’d decided to come here tonight, it had been for one purpose only. To find Gregorio. She’d never expected to be captivated by everything that was happening.

“I’m waiting for your answer. Why are you here, Petal?” Gregorio’s warm breath was on her, making her shiver with anticipation. “Did you come to bare your ass so I can give you the spanking you want?”

“No.” Frantically she shook her head.

“That’s what your wristband says.”

She closed her eyes against the hot rush of anticipation that flooded through her.

“Or is it the service part of BDSM that interests you? Perhaps you enjoy doing little things for your Top?” he suggested softly. “Scrubbing his back in the bathtub? Stroking him off in the shower?”

God no . She’d never done any of those things, had never wanted to, and suddenly images of her doing what he suggested blazed through her mind.

But it wasn’t for just any man.

Only him. Only Gregorio.

“You were studying the submissive you saw out there in the dungeon. The one who was kneeling, chained to the wall, waiting for scraps of attention from her Master.”

So he had been watching her.

“Would being required to do something like that make you happy?”

Scandalized, she gasped. “No.” Not ever.

“We could go back and watch them for a few minutes.”

She tried to shake her head, but his words held her immobile.

“He loves running his hand down the back of her head, cradling it.”

Sasha told herself to end this conversation, right this moment.

“Then he’ll turn to her and lower his zipper.”

A shiver ran through her.

“He’ll stuff his cock down her throat, gagging her, enjoying the fact tears are streaming down her face while he carries on a conversation with someone else.”

His words turned her insides molten, and she hated that.

Sasha reminded herself that she knew the club’s safe word. And Gregorio was the Den’s biggest enforcer.

If she even breathed it, he would take his hands off her and step back.

Yet no matter how dangerous he was, she hadn’t felt this safe in a very long time. She needed to be this close to him.

Inside the room, the Top blazed the schoolgirl’s behind with the belt that was no doubt warm from his body.

Shocking her, the woman didn’t struggle at all. In fact, the harder he wielded it, the more relaxed she seemed to become.

“Your first visit to a club, Petal?”

Of course not. Fast and furious, the lie sprang to her lips. But she held it back. He would see through it and no doubt raise the stakes.

Is that what I want?

“She’s a pain slut.”

“A what?”

“The more she gets, the more she wants. Which is why I’m glad she is paired with Master Dimitri. He will set limits where she would not. He knows what she can endure better than she does.”

After several more strokes, the belt clattered onto the table next to the ruler.

The Top—Master Dimitri—crossed to the wall and returned with a long, thin strip of rattan.

A cane?

Half a dozen times, he bounced it off her flesh like he had with the ruler, lightly teasing, taunting.

Through the door, the whoosh from the implement knocked the air from Sasha’s lungs.

“That’s okay here?” she asked Gregorio around the knot in her throat.

“I’m watching. They’ve been coming here for a very long time.” He paused. “Too extreme for you?”

“Some of this looks interesting. But this…?” She shuddered.

“Guessing you’re not a pain slut?”

That much, she was certain of. “Absolutely not.”

Methodically, the Top marked the bottom, starting just above the backs of her knees and working his way up.

A few times, the woman moaned. But she continually pressed her hips back. Asking for an orgasm? For harder strokes?

Gregorio might be right. This wasn’t a place she belonged.

As if reading her thoughts, he asked, “I’ll repeat myself a final time, Petal. Why are you here?”

“I was looking for you.”

Finally, he loosened his grip, and she turned to face him.

Breath left her body.

She thought she’d been prepared to see him. After all, the wedding reception had been a very long time ago, long enough to get over her physical reaction to him.

But the truth was, a lifetime wouldn’t be long enough.

As always, he was dressed in his signature all black clothes, but he seemed different…broader, more muscular.

His normally sun-kissed skin was darker than she remembered, as if he’d spent time beneath the torturous sun. Up here in the mountains? Or somewhere else?

He was as shockingly gorgeous as always—maybe even more so—with his single diamond earring catching the light.

At one time, he’d worn a veneer of civility, but it was gone, and she barely recognized him as the brother-in-law he’d once been.

As she looked closer, she noticed his cheekbones were even more finely chiseled, and his jawline seemed sharper. Subtle lines were grooved next to his dark, wary eyes. Their depths appeared haunted, as if he’d seen something awful in the intervening years.

What happened to you, Gregorio?

And why did she ache to soothe the pain from his features?

“Petal?”

His hands were still on her, but the way he lifted one eyebrow penetrated the haze he’d wrapped her in. “I need help.”

Tightly, he nodded. “You’ve got it.”

Until that moment she had not been one hundred percent certain what his reaction would be when he saw her.

But he didn’t ask what she needed help with. He automatically agreed.

Every part of her knew she had made the right choice in coming to him.

“I’ll get Wolfe to cover so we can talk in private.”

“Thank you.” His help might come with a cost, but whatever price he demanded, she’d pay.

As they made their way through the dungeon, a couple of people stopped him to talk. He did not introduce her. Though it was completely against her normal nature, she remained where she was, not drawing attention to herself, even though several members shot her some curious glances.

The submissive that Gregorio had referred to was still chained in place, and she appeared just as serene as she had been earlier.

The Top turned to her and snapped his fingers.

With the small, satisfied smile, she knelt up and opened her mouth as she tucked her hands behind her neck.

This cannot be happening.

But as he lowered his zipper and fed his cockhead between her lips, she opened her mouth even wider.

Wave after wave of awareness crashed through Sasha.

As Gregorio had said, the Top continued his conversation with a woman whose bottom was attached to her leash.

She’d leapt into an alternate universe.

Would she wake up at home in the morning to find this had been nothing more than a terrible, erotic dream?

“Petal?”

The shortness in Gregorio’s voice jolted her from her thoughts. Evidently, he’d spoken to her more than once.

“Shall I put you on a leash, my Petal?”

Yes.

No. No, no, no, no, no. She couldn’t imagine anything more horrific.

Dragging her gaze from the erotic scene in front of her, she frantically shook her head, her hair cascading over her shoulders.

“In that case…” He angled his head toward the exit.

Obediently, silently, she followed, reassuring herself she was not behaving like a submissive.

On the Den’s main level, he asked her to wait while he talked to Wolfe.

With a nod, she watched the check-in desk and people interacting in the living room.

Less than two minutes later, he rejoined her, possessively placing a hand on her lower back like he had that night at the wedding as he guided her toward the staircase.

“Gregorio.”

A man, tall, also in black, long, sleek hair held back with a thin strip of leather, stepped in front of them.

“Boss.”

Damien, she guessed. The club’s owner.

He was classically handsome, with an air of confidence and charisma. His piercing eyes held a depth that hinted at untold secrets, and he seemed to see right into her.

She imagined the two formed a powerful alliance.

“You heading up?” Damien asked.

Gregorio nodded.

“Unusual.”

“It is.”

“And you are?” Damien prompted when Gregorio didn’t perform the introduction.

“Petal,” Gregorio said.

At the exact moment, she supplied, “Sasha.”

“I see.”

Judging by the way he scowled and looked at Damien, she wondered if he truly did.

Had Gregorio mentioned her?

The thought was wild, absurd, and she shook her head to clear it. She didn’t mean anything to him.

“Are you consenting to be alone with Gregorio”—he looked between the two of them—“Petal?”

She appreciated him honoring her anonymity.