I help her out of the limo and usher her to the club door. The door’s unlocked but no one’s inside, as I instructed. Selene clings to my arm as we walk through the murky coat check area and descend the stairs into the gloom.
“What is this place?” she asks, voice hushed.
In answer, I press a hidden panel and flick on the first set of lights. The first part of the room is dedicated to lounging. A backlit bar faces an assortment of low tables and plush armchairs. I wait for Selene’s eyes to adjust and illuminate the second half of the dungeon. Spotlights appear around the vast room, shining on the heavy wooden furniture bolted to the floor. St. Andrew’s crosses, spanking benches, wooden horses, long tables topped with black leather–a well appointed BDSM dungeon. A dom’s paradise. A submissive’s hell and heaven all in one.
I flip the final switch and entire wall lights up. Selene gasps at the display of hanging floggers, Shibari rope, whips, paddles and canes.
Her shock is refreshing. Was I ever so innocent? Her head swivels, her wide eyes lit up, taking everything in. Her nipples are sharp points. Not so innocent. At least some part of her is fascinated.
Excellent.
“Well, pet.” I touch her hair to awaken her. “What do you think?”
She blinks. Licks her lips. Says the last thing I’d expect: “Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.”
Selene
THE VAMPIRE KING moves behind me, a giant, dark shadow in the this frightening place. His laughter echoes around me, surrounding me like warm blanket, entering my veins. The sound makes me light headed, like a glass of whiskey on an empty stomach. I sway a little and he wraps a large arm around my waist.
“Welcome to Toxic, pet.”
“This place… is yours?” I’ve heard of the vampire’s night club and the rumors of what it really is: a BDSM dungeon with a dance club as a cover. Some vampires are sadists, and prefer their victims to be submissive masochists. Sweetbloods, they call them. The blood has more flavor when mixed with endorphins, the body’s response to pain.
“All you see.”
“Everything the light touches,” I mutter. A smart mouth is a good way to cover up fear. Lucius laughs again, and keeps chuckling as he moves me forward.
We’re halfway to the center of the room, where a heavy throne sits on a raised platform, a spotlight showcasing its medieval splendor, when the silence makes sense.
“There’s no one here.”
“Of course not,” Lucius purrs in my ear. “You are my most prized possession. I do not want to show you off, not quite yet.”
I think of the party he’s throwing in a month. “But someday?”
“Someday.” He moves from me, taking his place on the throne. A king in his kingdom. His natural habitat. “Are you ready to begin your training?”
Am I? I turn in place, taking extra time to examine the wall of implements. The Wall of Pain. In training, I’ve seen worse, felt worse, but this is different. Private. Sensual. There’s only the two of us here. Lucius, rolling up his shirtsleeves to expose deliciously strong forearms. Me, with my nipples tenting my romper top and my pussy pulsing.
I’m not scared of the way Lucius might hurt me. I’m scared I might like it.
Lucius snaps his fingers and I’m over beside him in a flash. Kneeling, head bowed, arms boxed behind my back.
“Playtime’s over,” he tells me. “When we’re here, you’ll obey my commands or be punished. No excuses, no exceptions. You will call me sir at all times, unless I’ve ordered you not to speak. Understand? You may speak.”
I swallow. “Yes, sir.”
“I might wish for you to strip, or crawl. You will obey immediately or suffer the consequences. And, pet, you won’t like the consequences. Do you have any questions?”
“What are the consequences?” I ask, adding, “Sir?”
His dark eyes twinkle at me. He’s enjoying this… scene, game, whatever it is. “Disobey and find out.”
My eyes flick to the Wall of Pain. He leans forward and captures my chin, drawing me back. “Obey me and I’ll reward you. You will love the rewards. You had a taste of them last night.”
Yep. I’ll never forget those orgasms. I want more.
“In one month, I will present you to my kingdom. A king’s consort. Everyone will covet you. You’ll perform for them, and earn your freedom.”
“And this,” he reaches to the side table and opens a drawer, draws out a box. A heavy silver collar lies on a black velvet cushion. Lucius picks it up and diamonds wink at me. “A collar fit for a queen. I intend to train you for my use, and mine alone. You will kneel for no one… but me.”
Interesting. Xavier’s intel said nothing about him being this possessive with a submissive.
I open my mouth and wait for the incline of his head giving me permission to speak. “And after the party… sir?”
“You’ll free to come and go as you please. You’re free to go back to your pack, if you wish. The price of your freedom is your ultimate submission, but after that, you can take the collar and go.”
I rock back on my heels. He intends to train me, make me want him. I’m a prop in his show of power. If he can get me to do as he commands …
“And if I want to stay?”
“There will always be a place for you here. At my side.”
“As your submissive? Or for you to pass around as you please?”
“Our arrangement has a natural end, but I would continue to take care of you. You would work here. You would only submit to vampires you choose.”
I tilt my head as if considering it. He thinks he’s going to break down my defenses. I’m going to break down his–and the minute he turns his back, I’ll turn on him. Everything is going according to plan.
“All right,” I say. “I’m ready.”