Knots (Club Imperial Book 4) (16 page)

“That actually sounds like a blast,” Cece answered.

“We’re all going by our real names and we’re not allowed to wear anything suggestive or club-y. No frou-frou drinks, no toys, nothing. Totally vanilla.” Amaryllis pushed her shoulder playfully. “Come with us. It’s going to be a blast.”

Cece smiled. “Yes. If you’re not even leaving until ten, I can do that.”

“Yeay! That’s like ten people by now. Tessa is going to have a blast! Promise to help us get her plastered?”

“It’s not a party if the party girl isn’t drunk.”

“Sweet!” Amaryllis smiled and looked at her watch. “Client. Gotta go.” She popped off the bench and headed for the door.

“Ama,” Cece called.

“Yeah, Dusty?”

“Everything good?”

“Very good,” Amaryllis said. “Thank you for asking, Prima. Talk to you later.”

Even if Killian knew about the club, even if he turned out to be into the kink, how was she ever going to give this place up? How was she going to walk away from the camaraderie? These were her friends. This placed had gotten under her skin; she didn’t want to give it up.

The most difficult places to watch were the houses and dungeons. By nature, they were far more secretive than the ostentatious presence of Club Imperial, lording over the Monongahela.

Pittsburgh was home to more than a dozen dungeons—for those who wished to take the risks and needed the harder pleasures Franz Dorn wisely forbade on his property—and just a handful of houses. Houses were not nearly as off-the-grid as the dungeons. They were meant to be found by those who were truly looking.

The best of these was Darien Thompson’s “Wanderer’s End”. A strict, well-run, well-appointed, clean house, Darien welcomed the myriad of men and women who defined sex and love outside the cultural norms. An impeccable Dom himself, he could read his students--Doms and subs--with great aplomb and stop troubles before they started.

The house sat miles outside of the center of the city, safely tucked away on a large plot of land. Darien was the newest House Master, having inherited it from George Franklin, who had trained both him and Franz Dorn in that very house. Dorn opted to go more public, and Thompson to stay more low key.

Dorn’s lifestyle was more easily acceptable by the public. Thompson’s was not.

Darien had taken good care of the legacy he was handed. He was the ultimate House Master; his judgment on who should and shouldn’t be let in the door was flawless. He could tell in just days who would make it through the house and wouldn’t. He knew that rejecting someone from his house could devastate their whole psyche. His house was a wonderful mélange of pleasure and pain meted out as needed.

Should someone appear who need a firmer hand, who sought a visceral reaction, he would send them to Bella Donata’s Sadique House, south of the city—she was merciless and SM almost exclusively. She catered to the extremes, to the people who craved pain. Vanity, Sabrina Worchester, was one of those. 

If someone appeared who needed a softer hand, who was seeking more the pleasure of the flesh, more the gentle and tender ministration with a firm punishment being no greater than a moment of fleeting pain, Darien bundled them off to Luc Pollard’s Surrender Estate. He trained the most delicate of submissives and the most genteel of Doms, male and female. Luscious, Lisa Grzynski, had been one of the first he sent to Luc.

Wanderer’s End, though, was a combination of both the Surrender and Sadique mentalities. Pleasure and pain combined there, and Darien enjoyed all of it. He had long ago accepted that he was more than bisexual; he was, as the best word he himself could find, pan-sexual. He enjoyed women, men, both, several. He could be alpha, he could also submit. He enjoyed everything and anything that had to do with sex and the BDSM lifestyle.

Darien took greatest pleasure in helping others find their way through the lifestyle. He was always slightly sad when he had to send a promising student to the other houses but he knew that they would reap the most benefit elsewhere.

Killian McInnis appeared at the door one day at seventeen years old. Darien knew who he was and gave him no leeway. He was made to crawl into the house as all other seeking asylum there were made to do. Killian spent two weeks there at first. Then every weekend thereafter for six months, learning to be a submissive. The day he was to be collared, Darien took him aside and explained to him that he wasn’t meant to be submissive. He had to do the training to learn what it was. He was meant to be a Dom.

It was another two weeks there, and then six months of weekends. And Darien had every intension of having Killian as his assistant—until Killian announced his intention to be a doctor.

What drove Killian to Wanderer’s End was still a mystery. While others who had been there—Franz, Jemma, Amaryllis, Rachelle, Darcy, Lucious—were easy to assess, Killian ultimately didn’t have an obvious reason. He simply wanted the lifestyle. Which was the best reason of all to seek out a training house.

For the years of his pre-med degree, Killian was there two and three nights a week. He had perfect grades, and his clients and trainees adored him. But as he got closer to med school, it became more and more apparent that he couldn’t keep up his grades and his position. So the position at the house started to slide. And eventually, Killian decided that he didn’t need to be a Dom anymore. He needed to be a doctor.

That would have worked, save for the murder of his father.

It took a horrible tragedy in his life to give someone who was natural at the lifestyle a reason to use the lifestyle for more than it had ever needed to be to him. Not only had he come roaring back as a powerful Dom, but he was again, someone Darien wanted to consider as a new House Master.

Darien knew it was a losing proposition. Once Killian’s life started to straighten out, he would once again slide from the house and concentrate on being in life.

“You’re lost in thought again, love,” the Hunk said, curling into the couch.

“How it that someone your size can manage that?” the Watcher asked.

“It’s all you.”

“Are you going to be okay with this arrangement?”

“Not even remotely,” the Hunk answered honestly. “No one is. No aside from the Robbes who get to keep their estate and their name.”

“You mean…”

“The Wainwrights are risking a lot by agreeing to it, too,” the Watcher said. “Risking exposing all that underground money they are raking in. But they want the son married off.”

“It disgusts me how all these family trade children like Pokemon cards,” the Hunk said.

“The younger generation doesn’t really want anything to do with it,” the Watcher said. “It will stop soon.”

“Not soon enough,” the Hunk answered. “Just like--”

“Don’t say it,” the Watcher cut him off. “Just don’t say it. It’s not worth mentioning again.”

“Someday.”

“Someday is not now,” the Watcher stated. “Everything is falling apart in order to fall together later. Let’s hope that this all works out.”

###

Pulling his shirt sleeve straight one last time, Killian walked into the room and found his student was already waiting. Her posture was perfect and her clothing correctly lacking. He had read up on his one: Bethany, a young professional who worked in the regional office for nationwide insurance company. She was there at her request prompted by the revelation that she and her husband wanted a far more than just silk scarves in the bedroom.

Darien had told him that she was nearing the end of her training, and she was just about ready to go back to her husband, who had been training with another Dom in another house.
Wise.
Having them in different houses. The more varied the experiences they brought back, the more fun they would have in the bedroom.

“Good evening, Bethany,” Killian closed the door.

“Good evening, sir.” She was quiet and demure.

“Stand up, go over to the wall,” Killian directed. “Put your hand out and brace against it, feet apart.” He wasn’t going to waste any time getting down to the nitty-gritty. He had limits he wanted to test right away.

Bethany complied easily, and glided ethereally to the wall. He watched her as she assumed the correct position immediately. The tiny boyshorts she wore clung to her delicious, firm ass and Killian had to hold in a sigh. He’d glimpsed the gorgeous, full breasts as she had moved over to the wall, and her curves were generous and well defined.

All he could think about was Cece.

The tallboy in the corner was filled with a large collection of instruments and toys, and Killian pulled the doors open. “This evening’s pleasure, Bethany, will be the flogger.”

“Thank you, sir.” Her answer was breathy and soft. He could hear the desire in her voice and it made him smile. This woman was going to make her Sir very happy when they were reunited. He pulled out the flogger that would have more thud to it, creating a deeper sensation in her.

“What is your safe word, Bethany?” Killian already knew the answer, but he always took the precaution of having his subs repeat the word for safety.

“Edelweiss, sir,” she supplied.

“Good girl,” Killian lauded. “You will count for me. I’m going to give you ten light to warm you up. Then as long as you don’t feel the need to give the safeword, we’ll go on from there.” She thanked him again, and Killian walked over to where she stood with her ass presented to him. He ran a hand softly over the curve of her back and found himself immediately comparing the texture of her skin to Cece’s.

Damn.

He stepped back just a little and brought the flogger down on her tender flesh with very little serious force. She called out the number, and Killian set his mind to the task at hand as best he could. The ten light strikes went by in a flash, even with his caresses between to make sure that he was warming her up properly.

“Very good Bethany,” he praised after number ten. He walked back to the tall boy and pulled out two more objects: a solid steel buttplug and a bottle of lube. “Tell me, Bethany, how is your tolerance to anal play?” Again, the question was a formality.

“I very much enjoy it, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised. “We’re not done with the flogger yet, but I’m going to take this up a notch for you. Slip the panties down and stand braced against the wall.”

“Yes, Sir, thank you sir.”

She wriggled the boyshorts down, and her lightly pinked ass was bare to him. It really was a glorious ass. He slid his hand over her and smacked a cheek hard, causing her to draw a hard breath. Killian took a drop of lube, and ran it over her puckered entrance. Her reaction was a delighted shiver. She didn’t just enjoy it—her pussy was soaked and he could see her wetness on her thighs.

So wonderfully responsive. He slipped a finger inside and he heard her stifle a groan. He slipped back out, and this time entered with two fingers. Bethany couldn’t stop her delighted sounds this time. Killian withdrew again, and cleaned his fingers with a wipe from the nearby table. He took the plug and coated it liberally with lubricant. “This is steel, dear girl, and I haven’t warmed it. You are
not
allowed to come.”

“Sir!” she gasped.

“Control has been one of your weaknesses, Bethany. There will be punishment if you come.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

Killian was pleased; her protest had quickly shrunk back. He stepped back to her and placed the plug against her dark entrance. She didn’t flinch, and Killian pressed forward. Her body was willing, accepting the plug easily. He moved slowly. She had to learn better control of her orgasms. Bethany’s breath rushed out and he heard her quiet, “Sssshit,” on the breath. He smiled to himself.

He pressed forward, and buried the whole toy inside her. He watched her hands curl into fists and she threw her head back. “Oh
fuck,
” she hissed.

But she didn’t come.

“Good girl, Bethany,” he praised, petting the firm backside. “Take a moment where you are and let yourself adjust.” His request was twofold. He need her body to adjust, and he need her to back down from her orgasm. She was dangerously close and he wanted her to finish with the flogger.  

He let her rest there, walking to the side board and pouring himself two fingers of scotch over the whiskey cubes. Darien always had the best of everything in his rooms; this drink was no exception. Killian swirled the warm brown liquid to cool it and took a sip. He let the hot fire of the cold alcohol burn down his throat, and swirl into his stomach.

              Killian wanted this woman to be Cece. He wanted to take that gorgeous, brave creature, tie her up and make her surrender to him, take away her thoughts, free her from all the burdens she carried. He wanted to drive his cock deep in her pussy and listen as she screamed his name, again. Feel her come around him, squeezing and pleading for his seed, and giving her every pleasure she could ever desire.

He grunted. So that was apparently the only way his dick wanted to play tonight. No appreciation for the beautiful, able body right here, right in front of him. Just the thought of Cece’s hot core.

Killian took the flogger in hand again and walked back to where Bethany was leaning. “Are you ready, dear girl?”

“Please, sir,” she breathed.

“You will take no less than ten hits before you come,” he directed.

“Thank you, Sir.”

Killian pulled back and released the leather strands on her, all of them clumping just so as they flew through the air and found their target on her ass. The hit, he knew, impacted the plug as well moving it inside with erotic purpose. “Oh,
god,
one,” she managed gasp. Killian did like the sounds Bethany made.

With each passing thrash of the flogger, he was a little less sure he should be at Wanderer’s End anymore. Bethany and her husband understood and agreed to the polyamory that this training entailed. They more than understood it, they welcomed it. It seemed to be pulling them closer together. As he helped this woman discover her full sexual range, he started to doubt his own place. Just because he was open to polyamory didn’t mean that Cece was. Just because he was willing to flex the rules of traditional relationship didn’t mean that she was.

Killian held a deep hope that somehow, Cece would let him show her this side of his personality. She knew about his bear in the bed, and judging by the holes in the wall, rather enjoyed the whole mating ritual. But would she be willing to subject herself to his will completely, if only for a few hours?