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“PleasecanIwatchyourscene,” babbled out before she completely lost her nerve.
Connie’s face was tight with concern, but she pressed her lips together to keep her silence. She glared at Saul, but he only held out a hand, palm up, as if to say, this is her choice.
Yes, it damn well was her choice. She’d changed her mind, she was willing to expand her horizons, and she would own her goddamn decisions.
Straightening her shoulders as much as she could, Caera lifted her chin and met Thane’s eyes directly, ignoring the flutter he incited—or his dominance, she corrected, which was pretty much a twin to Saul’s—in her belly.
“Please may I watch your scene tonight,” she asked again, more slowly and with better pronunciation this time. She was rather pleased that she didn’t sound as breathless as before. “Master Thane.”
“I appreciate you asking, Caera.” Thane glanced over her head, then he shrugged. “We have no objections. Just give me a few minutes to get an area set up, then come find us, okay?” He smiled slyly. “Bring your Dom along if he’d like to learn a thing or two.”
“Is that supposed to wound me, Thane?” Saul scoffed. “Leave my bunny to me, and you concentrate on keeping your submissive from taking over your damn scene and pegging your ass. Again.”
Connie turned red. “I only did that once—”
“Twice,” Thane corrected under his breath. “It won’t happen again, will it, sugar?”
The brunette shuffled her weight from foot to foot in an embarrassed dance. “No, Sir.”
“Good. I’d hate to come up with a punishment to top that one.” Smirking, Thane used his grip on his sub’s neck to push her ahead of him, using his arm like a stiff leash. “Five minutes headstart, Saul, if you please.”
They ascended the steps, then headed for another set of swing doors opposite the ones leading back to the welcome desk. These ones were pinned open, exposing the mouth of what looked like a wide passageway.
“Drink up, bunny.” Saul pressed a glass into her hands. “You handled that well. Polite, respectful. That stutter of yours is rather endearing.” He kissed her lightly. “I like hearing the nerves running through your voice, and the way it grows stronger when you decide to be brave. Think you can hold onto that for as long as we stay next door?”
Caera sipped the soda, running her tongue over the roof of her mouth as the bubbles tickled. It was her caffeine hit, only cold and a lot sweeter than the gallons of coffee she usually drank—and that Saul insisted she cut back on. “Don’t think you have to be so careful with me, Saul…Sir,” she amended, preferring the roll of it off her tongue in this place. “I’m not delicate. I can make you proud.”
Saul reached for his beer, taking a mouthful before putting it back. “Caera, you’re sitting in a BDSM club, after an emotional few days, with barely any comprehension of what lies in store for you. Trust me, you couldn’t make me any prouder.”
She leaned into him. “Even when I’m weak?”
“Fear isn’t weakness, little rabbit. It’s survival. Everyone strives to make sense of this crazy world, to survive it, and our brains are wired to find danger. We either protect ourselves by running from it and hiding until it passes, or we stand straight and face it.” His cheek rested on top of her head so that, for a few long and easy moments, it was just them in a secluded bubble. “Avalon and the people in it have become a big part of my life over the last few months. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think some part of this might appeal to you.”
“What happens if you’re wrong?”
He sighed. “Are you asking me which I’d choose, Caera? The club or you?”
No, she couldn’t ask that aloud. It was a choice he shouldn’t have to make, one she had no right or reason to demand. There was no comparison between her and the life he’d built—he had friends, family, interests that didn’t include secluding himself in a lonely apartment, binge-watching TV shows and pining for something more.
Caera shook her head, but he clasped her chin between thumb and finger, holding her unnaturally still.
“Spanking makes you wet. We both know it. If that’s all that turns you on, so be it. I don’t care if you’re the kinkiest sub on the planet and run my cock ragged, Caera, or if you dabble your toes every now and then. I’d rather wake every morning with you in my arms than kick another sub out of bed every night because she’s not you.”
Voice tight, she whispered, “So, it’s not a deal breaker then?”
“No, little rabbit. No deal breaker.” Kissing her fiercely, he released her chin. “Drink up. Thane should be done warming Connie’s ass by now—if not, maybe he should get your brother to give him lessons.”
Caera snorted. “From what I’ve read, Dominants fall out of the womb ready to conquer, don’t they?” She shuddered as an image of a baby kitted out in leather, wielding a tiny cane came to mind. “Oh, bad imagery. Bondage babies are not a good visual.”
Laughing, Saul plucked the glass from her hands. “I’d love to live in your head for a while. It takes such fascinating turns into the surreal.” Setting her drink beside his on the edge of the pit, he stood, pushing her to her feet. “Why don’t we give it something to really dig its teeth into?”
She followed him away from the seating area, along the same path their friends had taken. She tucked herself shyly behind him as he lifted a hand to people he knew, and stayed there as he led the way through the open doors and into the wide corridor.
“There are two rooms on either side of the walkway,” he told her conversationally, taking her hand when she groped nervously at his waistband. “Braun’s office is on the right, and one of the private rooms is on the left. There are another two in the next walkway, but we won’t be going down there.”
“Why, where does it go?”
“The third barn. That’s used more for…messier activities. It’s like a wet room,” he explained. “Easy to clean. Not everyone enjoys the dirtier kinks, so I guess it made sense to Braun to have an area that was both practical for cleaning, and separate for those who don’t want to watch.”
