Beneath the Scars Read online

  As her slacks and thong dropped down around her ankles, her hands fisted. She’d told Peter not to mess with her clothes. Why hadn’t she refused Holt? A sound escaped her.

  His steely-blue gaze lifted, and he ran his hand up and down her bare thigh. “It’s tough to be naked, isn’t it? Almost all of the submissives and bottoms have a…moment…the first time they’re stripped down.”

  The sympathy helped. Kind of.

  He patted her left knee. “Lift, pet.”

  A second later, her pants and thong were tossed on top of his toy bag. Oh, sweet heavens, she really was naked and not in her own bedroom. Suddenly, she realized how many people were in the room. The Dommes and their submissives. Someone using the leather-covered table. Another over—

  “Josie. Where is your gaze supposed to be?” Holt was still in front of her, on one knee. His voice was soft but held a stomach-quivering warning.

  She’d screwed up. “On you, Sir.” She looked down at him and realized he wasn’t angry. Just correcting her.

  “Better.” Buckling cuffs around her right ankle, he ran a finger inside to ensure the fit wasn’t too tight, and drew her leg outward. He lifted a stone in the floor to reveal a chain attached to an embedded ring, then hooked her ankle cuff to the chain and repeated the process on her left leg. After an assessing look, he adjusted the attachment to force her legs open into a wide V.

  The position wasn’t uncomfort­able…exactly…but she now realized how useful her thighs had been at concealing and guarding her vulnerable bits.

  As he rose, he validated her concern by cupping her mound and pussy.

  Shocked, she sucked in a breath. He was touching her…there. Intimately. As if he had the right. The possessive, authoritative gesture shook her.

  He didn’t move. Slowly the warmth of his powerful hand seeped into her skin, heating her insides—and making her clit swell in response.

  Biting her lip, she stared into his perceptive eyes.

  He was like a chameleon, so sociable with his caressingly smoky voice and easy smile, but at his core, there was an almost terrifying Dominant. One who didn’t care what anyone thought. Once they entered this room, he’d never looked around; all his attention was on her. “Josie, tell me what your safeword is again.”

  Her what? Oh. Safeword. “Red to stop. Yellow to slow?”

  “Very good.” His lips curved again. “You may also use green to say everything’s great and keep going.”

  “Oh. Okay, cool.” Why did it feel as if her skin had tingles of electricity running over it? “What now? Sir.”

  He chuckled and ran his finger down her cheek. “Now I enjoy myself and play with this curvy body you’ve so sweetly offered.”

  “I did what?” Offered? She hadn’t offered…only, she really had, hadn’t she? Just by agreeing to this scene.

  “I’m going to learn what you like, what you don’t like…and then mix everything up until that busy little mind of yours shuts down.” The words sounded almost like a threat—and yet melted every bone in her body.

  He saw that too.

  Damn, Josie was sweet. He’d removed her clothing, her mobility, and opened her to his touch. As he’d slowly eliminated her choices, one by one, she’d slid further into a submissive state.

  Holt grasped her nape, ran his fingers through her short hair, and gave the strands a firm tug.

  Her soft exhalation told him all he needed to know. Some places on a woman’s body were erotic; some increased her sense of vulnerability. In Josie’s case, pulling her hair did both.

  Interesting. He liked long hair—winding it around a fist was fun. But her short cut was perfect for both her personality and her face. And was much safer around floggers.

  He kissed her, taking his time, nibbling on her plump lower lip, licking the curve of the upper, before aggressively taking his fill of her mouth. The way she responded stirred all his senses—and melted his heart.

  When he stepped back, her eyes had a slightly unfocused look.

  “Let’s get you warmed up.”

  Her brows drew together in confusion since she undoubtedly already felt toasty after that kiss. He sure did. But he didn’t mean sexually heated—he meant the blood flow to her skin.

  He took his time, rubbing his hands over her shoulders, back, ass, and thighs, waking and tautening the skin. Reaching around her, he did the same on her front—and pleased himself by fondling her cute breasts, her soft stomach, her upper thighs. Rubbing changed to patting, light slaps, light pinches.

  Her brows drew together sometimes when he did something unexpected, then she’d relax again. Her eyelids had lowered; her lips parted. She was slowly getting drawn into simply…feeling. He kept his hands on her, never moving away, keeping the tie between them—physical and emotional—strong.

  The lightweight flogger had falls thick enough to give her a thuddy sensation. He teased the strands over her back, her ass, her stomach and breasts. Such a pretty sight—her tight pale pink nipples through the brown leather strands. When he stroked over her neck and shoulders, she’d inhale the scent of the leather with each breath.

  Watching her closely, he lightly flipped the falls against her shoulders. Her lips curved up slightly. He worked his way from side to side, avoiding spine and kidneys, moving down toward her ass and upper thighs. Down, then up, repeating the cycle until her skin was an attractively rosy color. Her muscles were loose, and she was still smiling. Yeah, she was enjoying herself as much as he was.

  To keep her from getting too relaxed, he moved to her front. This time he started with her thighs, lashing gently. He grinned when her eyes flew open.

  Upward. He avoided her pussy—for now—and sent the falls flicking lightly over her belly.

  She was holding her breath as he danced the flogger over her lower breasts, over her nipples and upper breasts. The delicate, untanned skin over her breasts turned a clear pink color.

  Stepping back, he studied her. Hands open. Arms, shoulders still relaxed. He liked how her nipples pointed outward in opposite directions and had formed hard peaks. Her eyes were half-lidded. Mmmhmm. Looked to him like light flogging went into the plus column for her. As did bondage. And the humiliation of nudity in the club environs.

  Fuck, he liked her.

  Time to push a bit. He abandoned the flogger and chose a light cane.

  As he straightened, he noticed Raoul entering the room. In the gold-trimmed vest of a dungeon monitor, the Master checked Josie in one comprehensive glance, smiled slightly at her dazed expression, nodded at Holt, and moved to check the other scenes.

  As the music changed to Razed in Black’s “Sacrificed”, Holt caned his little submissive, using the rhythm of the music as he dealt out a series of quick light taps on her sweet round ass and her upper thighs. She lacked adequate padding on her shoulders, so he moved around to her front. Upper thighs got light whaps. He skipped the belly. Hmm. How would she react to a bit of pain on her breasts?

  He’d have to go quite light. He flicked the thin cane over her left breast—tap, tap, tap.

  Her eyes widened, and she pulled in an audible breath. But her nipples bunched into invitingly hard peaks. Very nice. He wasn’t planning to hurt her. At least not this time. But she apparently enjoyed a dash of pain—and fuck, he did enjoy hearing the sound of a subbie sucking in air. He teased each breast, pattering the cane around the outside and beneath, and tapping over her nipples.

  Her pupils dilated until her eyes looked almost black. Her lips turned a dark pink and now matched her nipples.

  Giving her a break, he cupped her breasts, circling the stiff, swollen nipples with his thumbs, and pulling until they formed long, distended points.

  She whimpered.

  When he rolled the peaks between his fingers, he got a husky moan. Fuck, she was adorable.

  Stepping back, he studied her nicely exposed pussy. Her lower curls were trimmed to a tidy copper-colored fuzz, long enough to be soft, short enough her engorged clit was
in sight. Beautiful. Being in the medical field, he’d never been an advocate of completely bare pussies. As far as he was concerned, this was the perfect compromise.

  And she was slick with arousal.

  Her eyelids rose, and she blinked slowly. After a second, she realized where he was looking. The pretty freckles on her cheeks disappeared with her blush.

  “While you’re in my bonds, you’re mine to look at,” he murmured, holding her gaze with his.

  “Mine to kiss.” He bent down and kissed her, deliberately rough and deep and invasive. Feeling her shock—and capitulation.

  “Mine to touch.” He ran his hand down her stomach and lower. With one finger, he stroked around her clit and down between her folds before pressing up inside her. Hot velvet wrapped around his finger.

  She made a shocked sound against his mouth.

  With a hand behind her ass holding her still, he explored her in the most intimate way possible. When he was finished, he’d verified she hadn’t had a man in a long while, and her clit was delightfully sensitive. If he put a clamp on the swollen nub, they’d probably hear her in downtown Tampa.

  He stepped back and licked his fingers clean. Delicately musky—and damned if he didn’t want to tease her with his mouth and tongue. Her surprised expression as she watched saddened him. Had she only been with men who wanted her smelling of chemicals and soaps? He liked the flavor of an aroused woman.

  Now to take that arousal up a notch. He picked up a heavier flogger.

  Unsure as to how long had passed, Josie felt as if her entire body hummed with desire. The alternating flogging and caning had left her skin tight and burning as if she’d been out in the sun too long. Although a few places stung, she couldn’t even tell exactly where. Her breasts were swollen, her nipples throbbing. Her pussy was awfully wet, and her burning clit was making urgent demands.

  “Josie.” Holt’s voice slid over her like warm molasses, perfectly steady and even. He was totally in control of himself—and her. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

  With an effort, she opened her eyes. God, she felt almost drunk. Her field of vision encompassed his wide shoulders, his corded neck, his strong jaw. Words spilled from her. “Are we done now? Are you tired? I’m green, not red. Just so you know. All green. You know, like the Hulk.”

  “Good to know.” Still laughing softly, he kissed her. Oh, he had amazing lips. Firm, yet so soft. She really wanted those lips…everywhere.

  As he caressed her breasts, the caned skin burned, and her nipples were extremely tender and sensitive. His hands hurt her, only didn’t really, and when he pulled at the peaks, everything inside her throbbed with need.

  Her moan was urgent. Greedy.

  “That sounded nice,” he murmured. Even as he nibbled down her neck, he cupped her mound.

  The light pressure on her clit made her jerk, and the need grew, pulling at her, blurring her thoughts until her attention was all concentrated…there. “Oh, oh…”

  “I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. He pressed a finger inside, past slick swollen tissues, making her core bloom with heat. His thumb settled beside her clit—and it was vibrating.

  Oh, my God. The fine vibration continued, steadily and far too effective. Her clit hardened and swelled even as her pussy clamped down around his invading finger.

  He bent and took one nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.

  Each lick and suck made her insides clench around him.

  He slid his finger out, back in, repeating, each movement deliberate and slow. The tiny vibe attached to his thumb settled directly on top of her clit.

  Her hips jerked, pressing forward. Anticipation stilled her breathing until nothing existed except his lips on her breast, the exquisite thrumming sensation on her clit, and the slow, merciless thrusting of his finger.

  Sweat broke out on her skin. Her muscles grew taut. Her legs trembled. Please, just a bit more… She whimpered.

  Reaching around her, he closed his free hand over her flogged bottom.

  The shocking pain erupted into a surging, boiling pleasure—and ignited everything inside her. Driven up and up by the vibrations, by his touch, the waves of incredible release rippled upward and outward through her entire body, filling her so full of sensation that she could only hang from the chains and shake.

  “There’s a good girl.” The smoky voice crooned in her ear as Holt held her against his hard body.

  As her breathing eased, and her heart slowed, he drew back slightly. “Hey, Raoul, could I have an extra hand here?”

  “Easy, sweetheart,” Holt murmured, his words so calm, she could let herself relax into a happy lethargy.

  Her arms were released and lowered…and her legs gave out. Someone’s arm caught her around her waist and held her up. A blanket was wrapped around her.

  “I’ve got her. Thanks, Raoul.”

  “It was my pleasure, my friend.” The voice had a Hispanic accent.

  “Down you go, pet.” Holt helped her to a sitting position on the floor, half-leaning against the rock wall. The floor was made of rocks, too. Pretty rocks. Not as bumpy as they’d looked…

  Holt snorted. “Time to come back to reality.” An unyielding hand under her chin lifted her head. “Drink some of this for me, sweetie.” He put a straw between her lips.

  She sucked some of the cool liquid, and the flavor of lemony-lime filled her mouth. She’d never tasted anything so wonderful. “Mmm.”

  “Good girl. Hold still a second.” After wiping off her sweat-damp face, he gave her the straw again.

  After a few more swallows, she felt the world steady. Kind of. She looked up at him.

  He smiled. “Think you can hold the bottle?”

  “Uh-huh. Thank you.”

  “No, baby. Thank you.” Cupping her cheek, he kissed her gently and put the bottle in her hand. “Sit there and drink. I need to pack and clean up the area.”

  “I can—”

  “If you move, I’ll restrain you and put you back on the ground.”

  She blinked at him, heard the implacable note, and muttered, “I think I’ll sit here and drink this stuff.”

  “Good choice.”

  * * * * *

  She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Somehow, she’d ended up in the main clubroom, lying on the couch with her back against Holt’s chest. His right arm and shoulder were under her head, and he’d turned so he could look down at her. She felt his chest rise and fall with his slow breathing. His left hand rested on her stomach.

  He hadn’t let her get dressed.

  Her clothes were stacked on top of his toy bag at the other end of the couch. She was wrapped in a blanket—and what had felt amazingly soft and comfy when it first went around her began to feel scratchy. Only, the fabric wasn’t the cause. Her skin had been…tenderized. She frowned. “How long were we in there?”

  “Mmm, maybe close to two hours.”

  She stiffened. “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  Whoa. She looked around the dark club. Only an occasional person strolled past. Almost everyone was gone.

  “Since you’re tracking on all levels again, talk to me. How do you feel about what happened?” When she didn’t answer, he gave her a gentle squeeze, as she would a teddy bear. “How did being restrained make you feel?”

  “I don’t…I don’t like to—”

  He put her bottle of Gatorade in her hand and let her sip. “I know you’re not used to sharing your feelings, but this is part of BDSM, pet. Communication. Before, during if needed, and definitely after. Talk to me.”

  “Boy, you’re stubborn,” she muttered and got another teddy-bear squeeze as if he could press the answers out of her.

  She’d rather not think about how much she liked what he’d done to her. But he’d spent two hours just on her. She owed him the truth.

  What had it felt like when he’d chained her arms over her head and her legs to the floor? “The restraints were scary and somehow sexy and—I
know it’s weird—but having them on felt almost safe. Or not safe, exactly, but…it was kind of freeing, in a way. Maybe because I didn’t have to worry about doing anything…because I couldn’t.”

  The kiss on top of her head made the space around her heart feel all warm.

  “Very good. Now, so I don’t stress you too much, the next question is about all the impact toys. We’ll cover each one individually some other time.” He chuckled. “Did you enjoy getting flogged and caned and all that?”

  “Yes.” Wait, that couldn’t be the right answer. She tried to sit up—and his hard palm on her stomach kept her pinned to his lap. “No.” A breath. “Yes.”

  When he laughed, she’d have thumped him if she’d been in any position to do so. Being flat on her back made reprisal…difficult.

  “Does that mean you figure you shouldn’t like it but you did?”

  Her grumble was all the answer he apparently needed.

  “Then the—”

  “All fine,” she hastily interrupted, because she just knew he was going to talk about the sex stuff. And she so wasn’t. “No one could complain about getting off, right?”

  “Actually, yes.” He tipped his head and rubbed his cheek against her hair. “Some people find any sexual intimacy within a power exchange to be uncomfortable.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You climaxed because I wanted you to. I, essentially, made you get off. Not everyone likes losing that control.”

  “Oh.” He really had taken any option of how she responded away from her, hadn’t he? The way he touched her, played her body… She’d have come whether she wanted to or not. A shiver chased down her spine.

  But she was okay with it…because the Dom was Holt. Her mouth turned down. If someone else—like Peter—had done what Holt had, she’d have found out if that safeword stuff worked. “I liked it with you.”

  She watched how the left corner of his mouth quirked up slightly, making his dimple appear. Dimples often made a man look like a boy. Holt’s made him even more masculine. “Why do you have to be so gorgeous?”

  The dimple disappeared. “Sweetheart, I’m scarred up enough to make you think I’m a biker.”