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He'd stiffened when she put her hand on his back, and she noted he pinned his gaze to the top of the doorframe. She snorted. "Yeah, that's what I figured. You can't look at her. So just shut up," she added when his lips parted. His eyes narrowed but she ignored him. She brought him back to his feet, his elbows down around his ears. It eased the shoulder strain but not all at once, which would have been more hazardous.
Marius was close enough to six feet to be taller than most women. Not Regina, since in her high-heeled boots she was six even. He was built like a brawler, his thick dark hair chopped in a spiky style adding to the bad boy look. Tough facial features framed striking blue-gray eyes that went to silver when agitated, another way she could tell he was far less detached than he seemed. Right now the irises were the color of newly minted nickel.
He was clad only in a pair of latex shorts, his cock a thick curve under them even when not on duty. It wasn't the first time she'd noticed he had the proportions to please a woman at full erection. If only the rest of him didn't seem so at odds with that goal.
He only had one tattoo, a recent addition and nice work. Covering his right shoulder, the design looked like his skin had been torn away by claws to reveal armor beneath, a leather-style jerkin with buckles.
It was a shame he hadn't had actual armor to protect him tonight. But as she assessed his condition, she saw older scars and faded bruises. Cataloging past injuries, she suspected his nose had been broken at least once and possibly his right cheekbone. There were abrasions on his knuckles, mostly healed, layered over scar tissue.
That was another change in recent months. Before then, when he wanted to do so, he exuded pretty boy charm that transformed his features accordingly. He still had the charismatic looks to catch a woman's eye, but pretty no longer described him. He looked like a man who'd survived a lot of fights. Fights he'd gone looking for.
Siren was the first scene he'd had at The Zone recently, but there were other clubs, some far less reputable, that might allow rough play to exceed the boundaries of good sense.
She kept an impassive expression as she checked him for injury, but how he'd stiffened when she put her palm on his back took her back to that demo session they'd shared. Though he'd tried hard afterward to shrug off the obvious inroads she'd made during the flogging, she remembered when he'd rested his head on her knuckles. Only for a couple heartbeats, but it was as if a sudden weariness had come upon him, or he'd simply needed the connection.
She knew when a sub needed aftercare, and it had been like that, except she hadn't sensed the need came from their session. She'd had the unexpected thought that maybe the need had surfaced as a delayed reaction to a lot of past sessions, where he hadn't let himself ask for or accept it.
When his eyes had opened, something in the depths had reached out to her, a cry in the wilderness. Then it was gone. He gave her that shit-eating grin and stepped off the cross, turning his back on her. He'd thrown the obligatory "Thank you, Mistress," over his shoulder, and made the female subs laugh as he rubbed his ass in pained affectation.
If he was just an asshole, as Lyda had said, Regina would have put it to bed
some time ago. But that moment he'd put his head on her hand had kept her gathering intel.
As a Zone employee, he worked part-time security and as a DM several nights a week. Over the bar were casual snapshots of staff members bantering with one another, posing and smiling. In those pictures, he displayed a whole different persona from what she had under her hands now.
However, those images were older, the most recent one of him taken well over a year ago. Lyda's assessment "He's become a total asshole" was key.
Regina thought of her first impressions of him. He'd always been hard to top, but he'd avoided causing frustration with powerful sex appeal and a playful, prankster's charm. The combination left a savvy Mistress shaking her head but amused with him, cutting him loose after some mutual pleasure taking. Often they came back for repeat business, particularly when they wanted to try some new stuff on an experienced sub. Marius's only real limit was he didn't do men.
While Regina always suspected his charm and flirty nature were a defensive act, there'd been a more genuine quality to them then. Kind of a, "Yeah, you're not getting deeper into my head, but we can have a lot of fun if you stay in the approved area. Don't knock too hard on the doors and we'll be all good."
As a staff member, he was a valued member of the security team and an excellent, even handed Dungeon Master, able to defuse or reroute sessions into safer and healthier waters when inexperienced players or those in the wrong frame of mind went awry. Ironic, to say the least. His sharpness and intuition as a DM were also why he could fuck with Mistresses the way he was doing now.
It was obvious something had changed in recent months, and had reached a breaking point tonight. He'd used that charm as bait for a trap, and lured Siren into those darker rooms. Then he'd shut her in there all by herself and turned her fear and insecurities on her. He'd mindfucked the mistress. Until she'd seen that feral look, Regina wouldn't have put it together, but she came to the unsettling conclusion he'd developed a sadistic streak, and not the pleasurable kind.
That didn't make sense, especially not for a true sub. She was certain that was what he was, no matter what smokescreen he put up to confuse the issue. The man who'd rested his head briefly on her hand might be a wild animal, with no capacity for trust. But the gesture had expressed a fleeting wistfulness, a wish that he could trust her, with everything happening in his fucked-up head.
Speaking of fucked-up... His firm lips had curved in a half smile now. The gesture was crooked because of a scar across the corner. She remembered when he'd shown up with the busted lip, though she didn't know the cause. She just remembered he'd had stitches in his chin and along his cheek.
The smile brought the right touch of concerned and rueful to his expression. His slate-colored eyes would have been mesmerizing except for that hardness in them, a calculating watchfulness that said he never completely stepped out of the picture and let go. It made the discerning woman wary, instead of melting with need. Until he turned on the charm, which he did now, masking the earlier flash of attitude.
"Sorry, Mistress. Didn't mean to be disrespectful. Was coming out of the zone," he said. "Hope she's okay."
"Do you now?" she asked coolly, rubbing the muscles in his shoulders, working out the knots, making sure he hadn't been injured. If he had, she suspected he wouldn't have revealed it with a single word. It took time to convince a male sub to admit when he was hurt so he could be properly tended, and Marius resonated with the tough-guy vibes. So she was thorough.
He tilted his head unconsciously to give her better access, and a breath escaped him, making her suppress a tight smile. There you are, bad boy. She had good, strong hands. She knew how to mix power and tenderness together the right way.
"Yeah." He recalled himself enough to answer her question. "I don't mean her any harm."
"Just worked out that way, hmm? Interesting choice of words. Most subs would be upset with her for losing control like that, for not keeping them safe. Sounds like you hold yourself partly to blame. A humble or insecure sub might incorrectly do that, but you're neither of those."
"Sounds like you got me all figured out." The broken lip curled. "So tell me what I am, Lady Regina."
He moved so his ass brushed her thigh. Not only an insolent move, but inappropriate, both in timing and situation. That didn't stop sparks from igniting wherever their flesh touched. Fortunately, her libido didn't do her thinking for her. Her Mistress side did.
She dropped the slack on the chains so he could lower his arms fully. In the same motion, she gripped his wrist, twisted, and bumped the back of his leg, shoving him to one knee. She ignored his grunt. Yeah, he was hurting, but he wasn't injured. As Keanu Reeves a la The Replacements said: Pain heals.
The wrist pin kept him in that position. With the threat of excruciating pain if he tried to get out of it, it would keep most subs still. At the height of his session with Siren, when the air had likely crackled with violence, Regina suspected he'd have been one of those who'd risk a broken bone rather than be subdued. But for now, he went still as she bent over him and spoke against his nape. It was easier to keep his head bowed with the hold she was employing, but she wondered if he was doing it purposefully to play her. That wouldn't interest her. If his true sub part was responding, that would, but neither route had her attention right now. He wanted an answer to her question; she'd give it to him.
