Red Handed (14 page)

“Nothing was more important than staying with you.” He brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “Now, are you going to tell me the truth?”

Feeling as though the room was suddenly devoid of air, she sat up and brought the sheet with her to cover her chest. “The truth? What do you mean?”

He stared at her for a moment, a notch forming between his brows. “You were exhausted. Aren't you sleeping at night?”

Relieved that's all he'd meant, she waved her hand. “You know what it's like. New state. New bed. Loads of new information running through my mind.”

“You had a nightmare while you slept today.” He came up on his forearm, and the hand of his other arm skimmed her knee. “You kept calling for Tasha.”

“I don't remember it.” She looked down at the bedspread, hoping she hadn't said anything else.

“Tasha's your stepmother, isn't she? Does she know you're here?”

She gave a halfhearted laugh. No doubt the kidnappers had informed Tasha about what Danielle had to do to save her. “Yes. She knows.”

“Why would you be crying out for her?”

“It was just a nightmare. It doesn't mean anything.”

“Dreams are the mind's way of processing events and feelings.” He sat up and took her hand in his. “You know, if anything is wrong, you can tell me. I can help you.”

She closed her eyes to ward off the threatening tears. God, it was so tempting to take him up on his offer. Although she'd gotten some sleep, she was so damned tired of carrying this burden all alone. But if it got back to the kidnapper and she lost Tasha as a result, she'd never forgive herself.

“There's nothing wrong,” she said. “Thank you for staying and watching me this afternoon, but right now, I'd like to get ready for the club.”

For a moment, she thought he'd call her out on her brisk dismissal. Instead, he planted a chaste kiss on her forehead and slid off her bed. “Get some dinner. You'll need the strength. You're on water duty tonight.”

With a wicked smile promising a night filled with sensual surprises, the infuriating man strode out her door. The second he left, she blew out an exasperated breath and jumped off the bed.

Her fevered body and her guilty mind waged war against one another as she attempted to decipher what he could possibly have planned for her tonight in the club. She couldn't imagine anything sexy about serving cups of water to the members. It didn't matter what he had planned, as long as they ended the night in his bedroom, so she could drug him and find that box.

After applying some mascara, she threw on a black Lycra minidress, quickly pulled her hair into a ponytail, and checked herself in the mirror. She sighed. She didn't look half as good as she had when Gracie had made her over, but frankly, she wasn't going to the dungeon to pick up a Dom. There was only one man she needed to impress and only one man to whom she had to answer. And he didn't seem to care if she wore makeup at all.

After dinner with the other slave trainees, she went downstairs, eager to learn what Cole had planned for her service.

The dungeon pulsed with energy, a sensual beat of music heightening the erotic atmosphere. She no longer blinked at the sexual acts going on around her, but she wasn't immune to it either. Instead, she became a part of it, a proud cog in the wheel of the club. Her hips swayed as she glided across the floor to serve the members their drinks, and a euphoric sense of belonging placed a lightness in her soul. In only a couple of days, she'd gone from an outsider to an interloper to a . . . slave.

Before she'd experienced it, she would've never believed a slave in the BDSM world would mean anything more than a twenty-four/seven sexual object. But she enjoyed serving the members under Cole's direction. Bringing water to them seemed like such a little thing when he'd assigned her the task earlier tonight, but after two hours, she truly felt as though she belonged here.

Every member she'd served had shown her gratitude for her service, not only in their words of thanks, but in the tone of their voices and the kindness in their eyes. Most of them were Dominants—Masters, Sadists, Tops, and Daddies. She would've thought they'd see her as something lesser, but they made her feel worshipped. The exhilaration of pleasing so many people brought her a sense of peace and happiness she hadn't experienced since before her father had gone to prison.

Wearing the dungeon monitor medallion around his neck, Cole leaned against the wall, his feet crossed at his ankles and his arms folded over his chest. His stance said casual, but the sharpness of his eyes told her he was in tune to everything going on around him. After handing off cups of water to a Domme and her baby girl, Danielle took a moment to observe Cole in his natural habitat.

He always exuded confidence, but here in the dungeon, he reminded her of a lion. Powerful. Graceful. Dangerous. In a room full of alphas, he was the king, and everyone acknowledged it in their subtle mannerisms when they were around him. Gazes lowered. Heads nodded in recognition. Spines straightened. And in turn, he acknowledged them with a smile, a handshake, or a comforting touch on their shoulders.

Tonight, he was dressed in black leather pants and a vest over his bare chest. Her mouth watered as she drank in his six-pack, the muscles of his abdomen rippling with each inhalation, and the triangle of hair between his pecs that thinned into a line and disappeared below his waistband. Her fingers itched to delve into the hair and follow the trail down over those sharp muscles. She'd never found tattoos attractive, but his black tribal armband tattoos sent a delicious shiver down her spine. Her nipples tightened and her pussy moistened at the thought of tracing them with her tongue.

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She was on a mission to seduce Cole, but sex with him would only be a means to an end.

She brought her gaze to his face and found him staring at her with a knowing glint in his eyes. Her cheeks heated from him catching her ogling him. He crooked his finger at her, silently commanding her to join him.

Tossing her ponytail over her shoulder, she crossed the room, her sole focus on him. “Yes, Master. How may I please you?”

His lips tilted up in a grin. “Oh, let me count the ways.” He pushed off the wall and took her hands, yanking her closer. “You already please me. Now it's your turn.” He pulled her over to a row of cabinets bolted to the wall, then opened one and took out a pink box. He removed two silver balls, each the size of a Ping-Pong ball, and placed them in her sweaty palms. “Go to the ladies' lounge and slip these both inside you. You may need to clench around them to keep them from falling out. When you're done, you may resume serving the waters.”

All sorts of questions popped into her head. What were these things, and why would she want to put them inside her? Since she wasn't wearing panties, if the balls fell out of her, others would notice. Yes, it was a sex club, so it wasn't the worst thing in the world if it happened, but she didn't want to disappoint Cole. If he wanted her to prove to him she could do this, she would. And he did say it was for her pleasure . . .

She stomped inside the locker room, almost running into Cassandra, who was gathering towels from the floor by the door. Expecting a sarcastic barb, Cassandra shocked her by remaining silent and ignoring her. Danielle wouldn't have thought the woman was capable of following through with her punishment. Cassandra's slumped shoulders and her bloodshot eyes, which could only have come from crying, almost made Danielle feel sorry for her.
Almost.

After shutting the bathroom stall door, Danielle tried to figure out the best way to get these balls in her pussy. Deciding to remain standing, she ripped off some toilet paper and covered the seat, then placed one foot on it. She took a deep breath and relaxed her muscles before pushing one ball inside her.

It didn't hurt, but it wasn't pleasurable either. Still, she followed Cole's directions and slid the second ball inside, clamping down to keep it from popping back out. She lowered her leg to the floor and felt the ball go deeper into her channel. Her pelvic muscles tightened, and a pulse of arousal swirled in her belly.

Cassandra had disappeared by the time she left the ladies' lounge, but a couple of members she'd never met sat on the same couch where she'd masturbated for the camera. They both stared at her, and her heart immediately started to race. Could they notice she had the balls inside her? Did it matter to her if they could?

It did matter, but not because it embarrassed her. She wanted them to know. It aroused her to think everyone knew Cole had ordered her to insert the metal balls into her pussy and she had followed his orders. The thought made her so slippery, she had to clench her muscles harder, which resulted in another flutter of arousal.

Cole waited for her outside the lounge. “I've decided to add another requirement to your task. Don't spill any of the water.”

“And if I do spill, or if I release the balls?”

“Punishment, of course. Perhaps a few minutes with your nose to the wall.”

The image of standing in a corner with her nose pressed against the wall filled her with a sense of shame. He was right. Punishments inducing shame would always work on her.

“I won't fail, Master.”

His eyes dilated, and his nostrils flared. “We'll see. Better get going. We've got a lot of thirsty members looking for their water.”

“Yes, Master.” She twirled on her bare feet and padded over to the table with the cups and pitcher of water. Each step caused the balls to rub against the inside of her pussy, stimulating her, but it wasn't enough to cause her to lose the balls.

She poured ten cups of water and grabbed the tray, balancing it on one hand like a waitress. As she passed Cole, she threw him a little smile to let him know she was doing well. Something in the way he smirked hinted maybe she wasn't seeing the whole picture.

Only a few minutes later, that missing piece of the puzzle became clearer when a low buzzing began inside of her and she nearly tripped over her own feet. She snapped her head around and glared at Cole to find him laughing, shaking his head, and pointing to the cups. A mix of fear and arousal sent her pulse skyrocketing and her libido into overdrive. The balls vibrated, and Cole held the controls. No way could she hold the balls in or keep from spilling if he brought her to a full orgasm.

She sighed and forged ahead, figuring at least she'd get an orgasm out of it before he punished her. Determined to last a little longer, she held her head high and her pussy clenched tight as she served a couple more members their water. Every minute or so, the vibrations grew stronger, creating a buzzing in both her pussy and her ass, a sensation so strong she had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out. Even with the music playing in the background and people's grunts, moans, and shouts, Danielle could still hear the sound of the balls, and by the sympathetic smiles of the submissives, everyone close to her could hear it too. Cole wanted them to know and wanted her aware of it.

Like Gracie had sworn, Cole knew the slaves better than they knew themselves.

Cole didn't just see her. He'd figured out what made her tick.

Service gave her pride and a sense of belonging, but exhibitionism aroused her.

Having delivered all the cups, she returned to the table and filled more, her hands shaking. She refused to look over at Cole, biting her lip and taking steady breaths to keep herself from losing control of her body.

Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her clit pulsated in time with her heart. Very carefully, she hefted the tray into the air and set off to finish her task.

With his head in the lap of Mistress Casey, Adrian rested on a plush area rug, his eyes closed as the Domme sifted her fingers through his thick blond hair. Thin red lines marred his arms and his thighs as a result of his beating, but he appeared so peaceful. So content. Danielle almost didn't want to disturb them, but both of them required water. Trying to ignore the fluttering in her pussy, she tiptoed over to them and handed over a cup to Mistress Casey, who then lovingly brought the water to his lips. Witnessing after-care from the outside, Danielle found it was so much more than simply a responsible person taking care of another after a scene. Mistress Casey didn't seem eager to rid herself of Adrian anytime soon. She got as much from taking care of him as he did.

But what did it mean? Was there anything more to Mistress Casey and Adrian's relationship?

Was there more to her and Cole's?

Her body lit up like a firecracker when she caught him staring at her from across the room with his cell to his ear. He hung up, then slid the phone into his pocket, exchanging the device for another. She had no doubt he'd palmed the remote for the balls inside her. As he mouthed the word “come,” he cranked up the vibration to what had to be full blast, and she lost control.

Waves and waves of contractions bloomed outward from her core like hot lava flowing from a volcano, blazing upward to her chest and outward to her fingers. She moaned, loud enough and strong enough that everyone around her would know she was in the midst of a climax. Tremors rocked her legs, weakening her knees, and before she could catch herself, the tray tipped, spilling water over the rims of the cups. The buzzing stopped, but as the orgasm's aftershocks pulsed, she wasn't certain if it was due to Cole turning off the vibrators or them slipping out.

To check, she squeezed her thighs together and clenched her pelvic muscles, gasping when it set off another climax, this one small in comparison, but stronger than any she'd ever given herself.

The tray suddenly left her hand, and Cole's hand encircled her waist, steadying her. His scent tantalized her, and she burrowed into his side, accepting his comfort and care as Adrian had with Mistress Casey.

“You did very well, Danielle.”

She peeked up at him. “I spilled the water. Did the balls stay inside?”