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Lady Katrina called Dylan a “baby” in the world of Dommes. If that was only a step into the shallow end of the BDSM pool, she didn’t think she could handle being tossed into the deep end with sharks. She’d drown in pain from someone like Lady Katrina taking control of her body. As she lay there, recovering from the emotional intensity of her first taste of domination, she couldn’t help but notice the heat building between her legs. It wasn’t only her sex that burned, so did her breasts. She wrapped her arms around herself to shield against the vivid sensations of the crop assaulting her tender skin over and over.
In that moment, she pictured Dylan’s deep brown eyes seeping into her skin with a look of admiration, much like the painted she-devil did toward the waiting submissive. The painting might not have shown the unseen force behind the succubus, like a conscience in her ear calling her the baby of a devil. Someone not worthy of wielding a tail-whip. Dylan’s validity as a Domme might not have come into question if Lady Katrina had not been present. They might have dabbled in pain while succumbing to more pleasure.
Instead, her mind raced back to the job—the actual one Terry hired her for—and how he had said things that happened within these walls went beyond consent. Dylan told her not to use her safe word. Perhaps they said that to all the girls. It was quite possible the true story wasn’t about the lack of consent but, instead, the deep competition that existed between the employees. Like vying for the title of the strongest Domme? It might explain the animosity between Cooper and Dylan and now Lady Katrina.
The realization that she begged Dylan to push her forward had smacked her in the face. She needed to pull up her big girl panties—oh wait, Dylan had all of those now–push herself up from the stage floor and head to Dylan’s office as demanded.
To avoid the main ballroom, she took the back way. She didn’t want anyone to see her smeared makeup as evidence of the physical pain inflicted on her. Along the way, she rubbed her breast and tried to soothe the violent sting. Something felt wet against her hand. She looked down to see a red blotch soaking through the pink fabric around her breast. The skin of her tender nipple had split open by the force of Dylan’s heavy hand. That’s it. She had to tell Dylan she quit. That might have happened if she had not overheard a conversation as she walked by Maxi’s office, which stopped her in her tracks.
“I’ll talk to Dylan about it,” Maxi’s voice said.
“There’s nothing to talk about. We had a deal. You get my name, and I get ... You know exactly what I get.”
“I do, but it’s not that easy. I’m still dealing with the aftermath of the last time. It’s too soon. You need to wait.”
Ari held her breath as she scanned the room, looking for a mirror or something to see a reflection of who else was in the office with Maxi. There was nothing.
“Make it happen. I want that little cherub.”
Panic rose within Ari. That one simple word told her the other woman was Lady Katrina. A stupid moniker used to single out the new girl. The conversation inside the room ended. Footsteps came toward the door. Ari slipped into the shadows, hoping to remain unseen while eavesdropping on a private conversation. When Maxi’s office door slammed shut, Ari released her held breath and rushed to Dylan’s office. Once inside, she shut the door and pressed her back against it.
With a hand to her chest, Ari released a sigh of relief. Dylan leaped to her feet, probably from seeing the panic in her eyes. “Are you okay?”
It took a moment to gather herself, and when she did, Dylan’s caring expression erased the overheard conversation from her mind. Ten minutes ago, on the stage floor, that care was what she needed from Dylan. Abandoned to her own aftercare, she had to confront the strange emotions that ate away whatever sanity she had left. A rage exploded within her, compelling her to stomp forward and smack Dylan across the face.
“What the hell was that, some pissing contest between you and her?” Ari emphasized the word “that” as if it were a vile piece of fruit.
“Don’t forget who you are talking to,” Dylan said as she cupped her palm against Ari’s cheek.
She swatted the hand away. “Yes. Boss. That doesn’t give you the right to—”
Dylan caught Ari’s wrist, gripping it in a tight clench. “The fuck it doesn’t. I remember someone coming in here, dropping to her knees, waving panties in my face, and begging me to teach her. That was being taught.”
“No, that was you and your ego.” She tugged her arm away from Dylan’s grasp.
With a confident step toward her, Dylan towered over her. Ari backed up, one step for each Dylan took toward her. She expected Dylan to be mad, furious at her. Instead, a look of admiration radiated from her warm eyes. “Miss Delgado, I remind you that every client in our club has an ego. They want an obedient, submissive woman kissing their feet and bending over to have God-knows-what shoved into them. You wanted the floor; well, that was only a preview of what you will endure there. You think my ego is big? Trust me, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
At that point, Ari had no place to go. With her back pressed against the door again, Dylan’s body pinned her in place. She gulped as Dylan grabbed her throat, thinking Dylan would tighten her grip around her neck. Instead, her hand drifted downward to her dress, and she pulled the tie open, revealing the sore nipple. She dipped her head and sucked dried blood away from the tender bud. Dylan’s mouth supplied the much-needed aftercare.
Ari’s head knocked against the door as it fell back, and autopilot kicked in. She fisted Dylan’s short hair and held her close. It had been quite a while since someone had been so attentive to her body and even longer since she felt so close to someone that everything around her drifted away. When Dylan stood again, pulling away, their eyes locked. Ari’s lips parted as Dylan leaned in and closed the gap between them.
Behind them, the knob turned. Someone tried to open the door. Dylan jumped, startled by someone wanting inside the office. Ari pushed away from the door, bumping into Dylan and rushing past her as the door swung open.
Cooper entered, casting a glare at them both. “Maxi wants everyone in the arena now.”
“We’ll be out in a second.” Dylan pushed Cooper out the door, closing it behind her. She flipped around as if she wanted to pick up where they left off.
But Ari leaned on the desk, her eyes dropping to the ground. “Dylan, I can’t do this. I need to quit.”
“You can’t!”
Her eyes lifted, widened by Dylan’s comment. “Why? I didn’t sign a contract.”
“Because I don’t want you to. Not yet.” Dylan kneeled in front of her. She pulled open the nightie and brushed her lips against Ari’s stomach. When she glanced up, her eyes pleaded. “Let me show you more. Trust me, I will make it all worthwhile.”
Ari longed to trust her feelings as Dylan's lips explored her body, but the house bell ringing throughout the building cut their intimate moment short. Dylan stood as if being summoned by some unknown force.
“We need to go to the arena. Stay with me, Miss Delgado. Let me take you to places you’ve never been.”
