the unmistakable musk of sex surrounding them. No one seemed to even notice as Terror plucked a disposable wipe from a box on a nearby table to tidy up his hands.
Will I ever get used to this? She couldn’t imagine Terror would want to give up these kinds of clubs and experiences. As long as they were together, nights like these would be regular occurrences. As strange as it was this first time, she could see herself learning to enjoy a night of wicked sexual play.
“Come,” Terror said and clasped her hand. She happily stepped to his side, wondering what new and thrilling thing he would show her next. Out in the hallway, she moved closer, seeking his protection when they passed a leering group of men. Terror smoothly stepped in front and to her right side, shielding her from their hungry gazes. He curved his arm around her waist, his palm spanning her hip and gave her a reassuring pat.
Glad for his care, she noticed how their fellow passengers were rowdier as the night progressed. Alcohol, arousal and titillation had driven them all wild. Not sure she wanted to get close to the dance floor, she glanced at Terror. His steady gaze scanned the room, always looking for trouble and exits. He probably had an entire battle plan in mind if things got crazy. Even though weapons were banned from the club, she wasn’t worried about him defending them. She had seen enough of him to know that the most innocuous thing could become a weapon in his skilled hands.
Terror turned toward a dazzling violet door. He swiped their keycard to gain entrance and ushered her through first. This private hallway had slightly brighter, cooler lighting. He stopped in front of door number nine and used the keycard to access it again. When he stepped aside and gestured for her to enter, she hesitated. A little nervous, she glanced up at him, and his expression softened. He caressed her cheek. “Trust me, Maisie.”
She gave his hand a squeeze and walked into the room. The overhead lights were very bright, and she winced at the sudden change. At first glance, the space looked like any other mid-tier hotel room. It wasn’t until she actually looked at the room that the interesting details became clear. There was no bed, for one. The cabinets on the walls had symbols painted on them. She inspected the closest cabinet, wondering what the oversized exclamation point meant. When she opened it, she found a selection of canes in various lengths and thicknesses. Scared of the painful snap of a cane, she hastily closed the cabinet.
Behind her, Terror had closed and secured the door. He stood at the control panel, adjusting the lights and temperature. When the lights were dimmer and warmer, he turned to face her. After removing his mask and throwing it aside on a black sofa, he folded his arms behind his back, tucking them away as if about to address a subordinate.
Oh.
Oh.
Surprised by his desire to show her this side of himself, she swallowed nervously. So far, they had been intimate without the structure and expected obedience of a dominant over his submissive. Of course, she understood that at some point, he would want that. Probably. Most likely. She hadn’t expected it tonight, though.
Terror could read her so easily. “It’s your choice, Maisie. Everything we do or don’t do is your choice. Always.”
She nodded and wished she had a tablet or paper so she could talk things out with him. Wasn’t that the way it was supposed to go? Discussions about limits and rules and safe words? At least, that’s how it usually went in the erotic books she liked to read whenever she could get her hands on them.
Of course, those were fiction, made up stories to excite and entertain. This was real life. This was Terror. Other than the unfortunate miscommunication the first time they had attempted sex, he had been extremely careful with her. Even now, he still seemed to feel incredible guilt about the way he had assumed she was ready and caused her pain. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
And, if she was being completely honest with herself, she wanted to give him complete control. She wanted to kneel at his feet and allow him to make all the decisions. She wanted to let go and feel without guilt, without questioning whether she was bad or dirty for liking something wildly kinky. She wanted to feel treasured