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I did as he asked, struggling to keep my resolve.
As I shimmied to lower the thick ribbed material, he dragged his tongue across his lips, his nostrils flaring. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning as I tugged on the tight material, sliding it down, then over my hips. The one-piece outfit had been custom made, the body-hugging fit comforting. When I’d finally managed to remove it, I placed the costume over the arm of one of the chairs. Then I made certain the corset was within reach. My legs shaking, I moved in front of him once again, standing several feet away from the table. I refused to allow him to be able to touch me easily.
The bastard needed to want this more than he’d craved anything in a long time. I wouldn’t have another opportunity to get this close.
This wasn’t me. I was a good girl and had been all my life. The studious one. Straight-A student who worked in soup kitchens and took care of stray animals. Playing the femme fatale had seemed easy. Now I wasn’t so certain.
“Please. Keep your boots on,” he growled, polishing off the remainder of his drink. After placing the glass down in a methodical fashion this time, he beckoned me with a single finger.
I moved closer, the coffee table the only thing between us.
He took a deep breath, holding it in his lungs. Then he stood, which created another wave of quivers skating down my spine. I remained exactly where I was, trying to act as if his dangerous persona didn’t bother me in the least. He took his time, moving around the table. His hot breath cascaded across my shoulders, sending prickles dancing down both arms. He wrapped his fingers around my wrist, pulling me further away, brushing the tips of his fingers down the length of my arm.
When he finally stopped in front of me, his heated gaze shifted all the way down to my boots then back, the smile on his face turning into another look of lust.
“You are absolutely perfect for my clients, yet you refuse to allow any man to touch you. I wonder why that is.”
“As I told Paul and now I’m telling you. Again. I’m here to dance and nothing more. I was very clear about that.”
“And I believe my manager was very clear in what was expected of all my girls upon being hired. You accepted the offer, which implied you were willing to be a team player.”
“Team player? For something sordid?”
Who the hell was he kidding? At least his words were venomous, boosting my drive.
“My customers have varied tastes, Dahlia. That includes partaking in aspects of BDSM. That is what is in your contract that you signed willingly. I expect both my employees and my customers to follow my rules.”
I’d heard the other girls talking, their stories allowing me to fully comprehend what this man was capable of. There was no way I was getting out of this.
“Interesting, you aren’t denying it. Good girl.” He closed the distance, sliding his finger around my lips then across the seam, taking his time to brush the tip along my jawline then down the side of my neck, moving ever so slowly to the cleft between my breasts.
His touch was electrifying, creating a wave of heat between my legs. I was mortified as my nipples became fully aroused, which the man noticed instantly. After taking a deep breath, he swirled his index finger around my taut bud several times before flicking it back and forth. The sensations were dazzling, but I acted nonchalant, looking away from him.
His breathing ragged, he slowly shifted his hand to my other breast, repeating the action. What I hadn’t expected was the exciting slice of pain as he pinched my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. My instant reaction was a slight moan, and his expression indicated he was delighted at my reaction.
“Did you know that providing pain is a true artform?”
“Why should I?”
“You did mention that you researched where you would be working. Is that not true?”
I clenched my jaw as the pain became biting, disgusted as the heat continued to build between my legs. The fragrance of my feminine wiles wafted between us, and the bastard licked his lips. I clenched both hands into fists, ready and eager to pop him in the face, but I held back. The moment had to be perfect.
When I took a deep breath, his cologne filtered into my core once again, tingling every nerve ending. Fury rolled inside of me, pushing a jolt of adrenaline through my system. I knew several of the dancers were enamored by him, their infatuation allowing them to endure whatever was asked of them. I had found it hard to believe, at least until now.
He backed away, chuckling under his breath before trailing the same finger down my stomach, moving to within an inch above my pussy. I expected him to grope me, but he pulled away completely, taking two steps back and lifting a single eyebrow. “Come with me. I can tell you respond well to pain.”
While I did what he commanded, following behind him like some lap dog, I rolled the various scenarios of how this was going to end in my mind. Only one of us was walking out of here.
He moved underneath a steel beam, slowly lifting his head, which encouraged me to do the same. There were shackles hanging from the pole, the thick leather bands and steel buckles creating another wave of anxiety. I would be immobile for several minutes, enduring whatever the man wanted to dole out. My stomach flipped, but my determination was set. This was going to happen.
You can do this. You prepared for this.
To a point. I’d read everything on BDSM I could find, but enduring punishment would stretch more than just my boundaries. When he moved to a large wheel with a handle, I sucked in my breath. He studied me intently as he slowly lowered the beam. With the slightest of movements, the shackles swung back and forth, a creaking noise reminding me this posh room was nothing more than a glorified dungeon.
When he was satisfied with the position, he took two long strides toward me, not touching me, yet his eyes were demanding just like his demeanor was controlling.
“You will hold out your arms, presenting yourself to me for punishment.”
