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Stopping inside the doors, she felt his chest bump against her back. His hand cupped her shoulder joint, stroked soothingly. “Everything okay, Mistress? Do you need me to get something from the locker room before we go in?”
Shaking her head, she turned to face him. Reaching up, she cupped his jaw and lost herself in amber eyes. “This is your night tonight, Thane. Your time to shine as a Dom.” Her lips curved into a proud smile she couldn't contain. “Your night to stand in the spotlight and be welcomed as an Avalon Master. You shouldn't be on your knees, waiting for me to give you an order.”
He frowned, trying to decipher what she was saying. “I can be a Master while I'm on my knees, sugar. We Switches are versatile.”
Damn it, she wasn't being as clear as she wanted to be. Nerves fluttered in her belly as she took a deep breath. “No, I'm saying…trying to say…fuck,” she hissed in frustration. The words wouldn't come, sticking in her throat like pills swallowed dry.
“Deep breath, Connie, and let them come of their own accord,” he coaxed.
A deep breath in the dress she wore? Hah! The goddamn seams would split down the sides if she sneezed. The material slicked over her breasts and down her body to a few inches past her ass cheeks, leaving her legs and shoulders bare. Almost the same color as her eyes, Thane had drooled over it when she yanked it out of her closet. It was tight enough to warrant no bra, no panties, no protection.
Paired with gray knee-high boots that put her on a level with him, and with her hair tumbling loosely around her shoulders, she looked like she was ready to party.
She inhaled sharply, held the breath, released it. Three times it took before she calmed her nerves enough to offer herself on a sacrificial alter, ready to slaughter ten years of domination in the name of progress. “I trust you not to let me make an ass of myself, Thane. I trust you to stand up for me if the shit hits the fan and a riot breaks out.” Another fortifying breath, another slow exhale. “I'm ready to submit to you, Master Thane. In public, among my friends and peers.”
“Because you areready, or because you think you shouldbe ready?”
Goddamn him, why could he not take the gift as it was given? The man questioned and prodded her every action, gauging the waters before he let her dip her toes in. Okay, so maybe he'd spared her from having those toes bitten off a few times—metaphorically—through his special brand of caution, but she was doing her best to offer herself to him. “If you'd rather keep up this pretense, it's no skin off my nose,” she snapped back, spinning around and stalking away.
She took a half dozen steps before she felt the air crack like a thunderclap. Around her, conversations continued as though it was a normal Saturday night. Several Doms lifted their hands in acknowledgement of her arrival. Not one person seemed aware of the tension ebbing through the room like a cloud of thick fog.
Fucking ungrateful asshole, she thought viciously. By God, she was actually pleased he'd turned her offer down. At least now, she could top him without remorse, let him have the full Mistress Connie experience. No more Mrs. Nice Domme, teasing him with a cock ring and letting him come like a fucking freight train. No, she'd wrap those perfect balls of his so tightly a drop of his semen would take a fucking month to squeeze free of the confinement.
A hand grabbed her by the back of the neck, catching a handful of hair with it. Her head jerked back as she was dragged to a halt, and Thane's lips touched her ear. Eyes were on them now, a lot of eyes, and a few of the more protective Dominants—male and female—eased nearer in case of trouble. The thick rush of lubrication dripping down her thighs warned her she was in over her head.
“I asked you a question, Constance.” His voice was the darkest she'd ever heard it. Rich, teeming with violence, he all but growled the words in a tone that was flush with displeasure. “A willing submissive wouldn't be so argumentative, would she? She'd answer the question with some modicum of respect, then wait for her Dom to instruct her. She would not,” he snarled quietly, “taunt him and then flounce away like a pissed-off queen. You might be my queen, sugar, but you gave me control and I'm going to use it.”
Thane steered her toward the bar, mindless of the gathering surrounding them. Two Doms were barely six feet away, inching closer as they decided whether to interfere or not. Unsure whether she was enjoying the role reversal or in real distress.
“You didn't want control,” she hissed, baring her teeth as the people waiting for drinks and standing talking to their friends parted like the Red Sea for the incoming Dom and his captive sub.
“Oh really? And where in the ten seconds before you walked away did you hear me say, 'Oh that's a lovely offer, Connie, but I'm afraid I'll have to pass tonight'? I asked you whether you were ready for this, or thought you should be, that was all. Obviously, we're past the point of me checking in on you, so we'll just go right ahead and throw you in at the deep end.” He stopped her by a vacated stool, then kicked it out of his way.
Liam approached, his expression wary. “Everything okay here?”
“Hunky-dory,” Thane shot back. “I need a wet bar towel.”
When the Viking Master flashed her a what the hell have you done nowlook at Connie, she could only gulp and lift her shoulders. The easy, sweet man she'd fallen for had faded into the background like a stalker, lurking in the shadows while the X-rated version of her Dom emerged.
“The dress comes off,” Thane ordered, folding his arms over his chest. “You have five seconds to take it off before I remove it in such a manner that there won't be anything left for you to put back on. Five…”
Holy shit, what had she unleashed?
“Four…three…”
She bent and grasped the hem, fiery nerves licking at her skin when she pulled it up and wrestled her way out of the tight material. She heard Thane continuing to countdown, a sharp slash of fear striking in her stomach as he hit one. She was tangled in the damn dress, unable to fight.
Thane yanked it over her head and tossed it over a neighboring stool. He let his gaze caress her naked skin, focusing on the tight peaks of her nipples, then down to the blatant evidence of her arousal smearing her inner thighs. “What's making you so hot and bothered, sugar? All these fine, outstanding pillars of your community stroking you with their eyes? The thrill of being stripped down to bare skin and exposing who you are? Or maybe the idea of punishment is making this perfect pussy wet and wanting?”
“I don't know, Sir.”
Connie quivered under the speculation and whispers sliding through the growing crowd. Jesus, what had possessed her to think she was ready for this? She turned, prepared to abandon her dignity and run to the locker room, but faced a wall of familiarity that was both suspicious and curious. Her eyes darted from face to face, reading the astonishment in the Dominants' eyes, and a range of emotion that spanned from excitement to outright hostility in some of the subs.
I can't do this.
“I've got you,” Thane murmured as he whirled her around to the bar again, taking away the horrible sea of faces she didn't know how to deal with.
Connie's inner Domme hovered just out of reach of her straining fingers, turning her nose up with a sniff as she dismissed her. You brought this on yourself. You gave him control and now he's humiliating you in front of everyone you know. How are we supposed to come back here and assert our authority when he's just burned our reputation to the fucking ground?
