keep you posted.”
I nod as I try to stop shaking. This has to be Phil. He’s trying to prove I can’t escape him. I know it! Numbly, I allow Augustus to lead me out of the office, but run into a warm, broad chest.
“I’ve got her, Augustus.” Armando wraps an arm around my waist. “Come with me, mi cielito.”
“Yes, sir.” The submissive part of me surrenders. And why not? I feel so out of control at this moment, I take refuge in his commanding presence.
He leads me down through the club to the secret door in the coat check closet. When the door shuts behind us, blackness consumes me. There’s barely any light in the stairwell, and my heart pounds in my temples. My grip on Armando’s hand tightens.
He halts, and his hand guides me into his arms. “Shhh, mi cielito.” He presses my head to his chest, and I sink into the sanctuary of his embrace. “Come. Let me care for you.”
His strong arm around my shoulder, he opens the door at the bottom of the stairs, and the red mood lighting engulfs us.
The sights and sounds of sex greet us. My body has a mind of its own and becomes hyper-aware of the man at my side. Two women—limbs entwined, and mouths fused—sway to the music in a cage across the room. A man is strapped to a St. Andrew’s Cross, his erection jerking as his dom whips his thighs with a flogger. The room blurs, and I blink several times.
Red stains the mouth of a woman a few feet in front of us. I blink again, not quite trusting my eyes. Blood play? Not unheard of, but I’ve never actually seen it until now. She sneers at me as she stands behind a man bent over a spanking bench. Her hips roll while she fucks him with her strap-on.
Armando guides me past the main area into one of the semi-private alcoves and closes the curtain. The chains hanging from the ceiling give me all sorts of ideas that I grapple with as an escape. Reality hurts too much. A tear slips down my cheek. I slump into the simple wood chair.
“Bring Zoe a glass of water.” Armando is peeking through the curtain, placing an order with one of the waitresses.
The waitress nods. “Do you want some blood?”
Did she say blood? Maybe Bloody Mary, and I missed the rest.
“Tequila, please.” His voice is far away amidst the music and moans.
Armando crouches next to me. I retreat into those dark brown eyes, so filled with concern yet edged with lust. Or is that just my wishful thinking?
He runs his hand down my back, offering comfort, but all I feel is desire. “Karina will be fine.”
I nod. My lip trembles. I squeeze my eyes shut against the memory of blood staining Karina’s blouse. My whole world is collapsing in one night.
Armando cups my cheek and I lean into his caress, breathing in his scent, his heat.
“Look at me, mi cielito.” His intense eyes penetrate my soul.
The curtains part and the waitress is back. She picks our order from the crowd of glasses and bottles on her tray and hands the drinks to Armando. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Drink, Zoe.” He holds ice water to my lips. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
I nod and accept the offering, the cool, moist glass as soothing as his voice. I drink it down. I’m thirstier than I realized.
Armando stands and tips his head back, downing the tequila. He relieves me of the tumbler and sets it and his empty shot glass aside on the small dresser in the space. When he returns to me, his strong hands settle on my thighs and he parts them, kneeling between my legs. The intensity in his eyes, this firm grip on my legs—they speak of possession and I welcome it. I want to get lost in this man, even for just a few moments. Pretend no one else in the world exists but the two of us.
His gaze drops to my mouth. I’m mesmerized, praying he’ll kiss me. I lick my lips in anticipation. Armando groans and dips his head, his mouth slanting over mine, claiming me. More than anything, I want to belong to him.
Hands sliding up my thighs, he grabs my hips and tugs me to the edge of the chair. His erection grinds against my aching pussy.
Yes! I cling to him. Armando is my lighthouse in this storm of emotions that