Sweet Surrender (9 page)

F
aith pulled up to the gate guarding the driveway to the large house looming up the hill. When she drew abreast of the small security box, she rolled down her window and leaned out to push the button.

“Can I help you?” a polite voice inquired.

She breathed in nervously. “I have an appointment. My name is Faith Malone.”

“Please proceed, Miss Malone.”

The gate slowly swung open, and she started forward, accelerating up the winding lane. When she pulled up to the house, she saw a secluded parking lot, not visible from the entrance. A large brick wall covered with ivy separated the lot from the sprawling front lawn.

She drove around the partition and eased into a parking spot beside a sleek Mercedes. As she got out and surveyed the array of very expensive cars, she glanced self-consciously back at her Honda Accord.

What kind of people gathered here? Were they all rich, bored types looking for cheap thrills?

“Nothing like making sweeping generalizations,” she muttered as she headed for the double wooden doors ahead.

Before she could raise the heavy knocker, the door swung open, and she found herself staring at a good-looking, well-dressed man. Okay, not just good-looking, but
very
good-looking.

He smiled broadly at her. “You must be Faith.” He held his hand out to her. “I’m Damon.”

She took his hand, shook it and smiled in return. She felt some of her nervousness dissipate. “I’m so glad to meet you. I feel as though I know you with all the e-mails we’ve exchanged in the last week.”

He chuckled then gestured for her to enter. “Please, come in.”

She walked in ahead of him and paused, waiting for him to go in front of her. The foyer was elegantly decorated, the lighting dim enough to make the interior look warm and inviting but not so dark as to give off a sinister aura.

Damon walked up beside her and placed a hand to her back. “If you’ll come this way, our first stop will be the sitting room where you can relax for a moment and have a drink.”

He ushered her into a smaller room just beyond the foyer. The inside was classy yet comfortable. A large Oriental rug stretched across highly polished wood floors, ending just in front of a dark brown leather couch. To the right sat two overstuffed casual chairs, the kind that would swallow you up whole as soon as you sat down.

“Why don’t you have a seat. Would you care for a glass of wine?”

Faith nodded and started toward one of those comfy-looking chairs.

“By the way, I like what you decided to wear very much.”

She turned around, her cheeks heating as she saw his gaze slide up and down her bare legs. Damon’s lips lifted in a half smile before he walked over to the wall and pressed a button on what looked to be an intercom system.

She glanced down at the form-fitting skirt that clipped her legs about two inches above her knee. The shoes, well, she had to admit, they were purely for show. In a moment of pure weakness, she’d spent a hell of a lot of money on the sex-on-a-sole shoes.

But they made her feel sexy, vibrant and a little bad. Okay, a whole lot bad. With a tiny grin, she sank into the soft leather chair and forced herself to relax.

Damon joined her a few seconds later. Moments after he sat down on the couch across from her chair, the door opened, and a man who looked every bit the butler out of some stodgy English movie walked in carrying a serving tray.

He bent and offered her one of the crystal flutes. Her eyes widened, and she smiled at the oh-so-proper man. She was only a little disappointed that he didn’t have a British accent.

She took a glass and lifted it to her nose to inhale the aroma of the wine. The butler offered Damon a glass next then inclined his head toward Faith and retreated from the room.

“I’m guessing most of your clients are higher end,” Faith said before sipping the wine.

Damon chuckled. “It’s all about appearances. If you want to attract the right clientele, you have to establish yourself on their level.”

“You certainly dress the part,” she said dryly, her gaze moving up and down his expensive silk shirt and designer slacks.

He smiled lazily at her. “Are you comfortable here?”

She blinked at his sudden change of topic. After a moment’s thought, she realized she wasn’t nearly as nervous as she had been. But then this was probably part of the game plan. Ply the potential member with booze until they were too soused to worry about what they were getting into.

A giggle escaped her at that thought.

Damon looked at her in amusement. “You truly are as delightful in person as you came across on the phone and in your e-mails. I was prepared to be disappointed. I’m glad I wasn’t.”

Faith blushed, her cheeks warming under his scrutiny.

He leaned forward and set his glass on the mahogany coffee table. “The House is divided into two levels. The lower level is where all the socializing occurs. We invite a very relaxed, laidback atmosphere. Rooms are set up for patrons to mingle, talk, get to know each other. We have strict guidelines for what occurs on the main level.”

She pressed the rim of the glass to her lips and took a long swallow of the wine. Flutters abounded in her stomach as she listened. It was real. She was really here about to dive headfirst into…what? She wasn’t even sure.

“The second level is where the action is, so to speak. There are a variety of rooms. Some private. Some open to the public. There is a main room, quite large, where the space is divided into different sections. This is the common area, where you’ll find a variety of activities concentrated in one place. Some of our patrons enjoy the public aspect of it while others prefer and demand strict privacy. We accommodate both.”

She leaned forward, her interest alive, her curiosity insatiable. “And what happens in these public areas?”

Damon smiled. “Anything and everything. You must prepare yourself for any possibility. The House is a place to let your inhibitions fly away. When you step through our doors, you are free to become someone else entirely, or, as I suspect in your case, embrace who you really are. No one is judged here. We are very open and accepting of all lifestyles.”

“And the membership qualifications,” Faith began. “You said they were stringent. I assume this means that members are screened and that the ‘activities’ here are monitored for safety?”

“Excellent question,” Damon said, his eyes flaring with approval. “Our members do go through a strenuous screening process. We require extensive background checks. No one with any criminal record, regardless of charge, is allowed membership.

“All rooms are monitored by our staff. For those congregating in the public areas, staff members maintain a presence at all times. For the members who prefer private accommodations, well, even then they aren’t afforded complete privacy because we have surveillance cameras installed in each room, and a staff member closely monitors them at all times.

“Not only are we dedicated to providing an environment where members may play out their fantasies and lifestyle choices, but we absolutely guarantee the safety of each and every participant.”

Her eyes widened. “That seems a lot to guarantee.”

Damon nodded. “Yes, but we are one hundred percent committed to keeping that promise. We do not hesitate to step in if we feel the situation is unsafe for one or more members.”

Faith was impressed by his confidence and his air of authority. In fact, he managed to make her feel not so much like a weird freak sneaking around some seedy sex club looking for cheap thrills.

“Are you ready for your tour?” he asked.

She swallowed and set her glass down on the coffee table. “Yes. Yes, I think I am.”

H
e stood and offered his hand to her. She took his hand and let him help her rise. Her legs trembled, and she hoped she could keep her knees from knocking together. She found she wasn’t so much nervous as she was excited. Intrigued. And more than a little turned on.

“I’ll be with you every step of the way. If you have any questions, any concerns, I’ll be happy to address them.”

Faith smiled. “Okay then. I’m ready.”

He tucked her hand under his arm and escorted her out the door of the sitting room. “We’ll tour the social rooms on the lower level first. It will give you an idea of how relaxed things are here. No one will expect you to interact or to greet them unless that is your wish. Everyone here is well used to circumspection.”

She squeezed his arm with her fingers. He turned and looked questioningly at her.

“I really appreciate all you’ve done to make me feel at ease. If you do this with all your members, I can understand why your establishment is so successful.”

He smiled and laid his hand over hers. “I just hope you find what it is you’re looking for.”

So do I.

They entered a larger room where several people stood and sat around talking. It was a party environment, but not the loud, raucous variety. This was more like an upscale gathering where the talk was hushed. Soothing piano music played in the background, and a waiter walked among those gathered, distributing glasses of wine and hors d’oeuvres.

A few turned and smiled at Damon, but none approached him.

“This is the main meeting room. Usually the first stop for anyone coming into The House. From here, people split off or go on upstairs to other pursuits. It’s not always about sex or wanting to play. Many of our members just come here to meet with like-minded people and spend the evening talking and visiting.”

They spent a few moments circling the room, and Faith tried hard not to study the other members. They’d certainly afforded her the courtesy of not staring. But still, she couldn’t resist quick glances from the corners of her eyes.

There was an interesting mix of people. Some were dressed to the nines while others had adopted a much more casual look. Jeans, T-shirts, tennis shoes. She was glad she’d opted for a compromise between übercasual and very dressy.

Absent, much to her relief, were the leather Klingon costumes she was embarrassed to admit she’d thought she’d see. To her further surprise, the people gathered all looked like normal, average, everyday people.

Maybe she’d expected replicas of the oddities she’d found while scouring the internet, but clearly, those weren’t to be found here.

Damon touched her arm, and she looked up at him.

“Are you ready to move on?” he asked.

She nodded, and he led her out of the room and down the hall to a smaller, more intimate gathering. Here, most people were seated in tight-knit groups. Two men sat on a love seat, and a woman perched on one of their laps conversing with both guys. The second man smoothed his hand up and down her leg while the other man’s hands clasped loosely around her hips.

Faith’s cheeks grew warm again. It was obvious the woman held the attention of both males. A satisfied smile curved the beautiful woman’s lips.

Faith’s gaze was riveted to the scene before her so intently that she had to force herself to drag her stare away to take in the other occupants of the room.

Several feet away, a large man turned around, and when he saw Damon, a wide smile split his face. He waved and motioned them over. Faith panicked a moment as Damon started forward.

Damon looked down at her and smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay,” he murmured.

They walked up to the man, who studied Faith with undisguised interest. He was older. Not
old
but older than Faith. She put him in his upper thirties.

“Damon, it’s good to see you,” the man said, extending his hand.

Damon smiled broadly and shook his hand. “Tony, good to see you.” He looked back at Faith. “Faith, I want you to meet Tony. Tony, this is Faith. She’s my special guest tonight.”

Faith shivered as Tony’s intent gaze flickered over her. He slowly held his hand out to her. “Very glad to meet you, Faith.”

When she slid her hand into his, instead of shaking it, he pulled it upward to kiss the back of her hand. She blushed madly.

Tony gave a delighted chuckle as he released her hand. “I love a woman who blushes.”

“We won’t keep you,” Damon said to Tony. “I have a tour to give.”

“It was very nice to meet you, Faith. I do hope to see you again,” Tony said in a low voice.

The blatant invitation sent goose bumps over her skin. Her stomach churned with nervous anxiety, and she was grateful that Damon was even now pulling her away.

Her fingers curled just a little tighter around Damon’s arm as he led her toward the stairs. On the way, they passed two other side rooms where people had broken off into smaller groups to talk and socialize.

“Ready?” he asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

She took a deep breath and tried to settle all the butterflies doing somersaults in her stomach. “Ready.”

He smiled and started up the stairs. When they reached the top, she was surprised by the closed door. Damon reached for the knob. “The walls up here are soundproof. It’s to keep distractions to a minimum.”

When he opened the door, the murmur of voices reached her ears. She strained to hear more as they eased down the hallway. They passed several closed doors, and Damon made no move to open those. They must be the private accommodations he’d mentioned. What she wouldn’t give to know what was going on behind those doors.

As they ventured farther down the long hallway, other sounds tickled her ears. Curious sounds. Moans, a few gasps, a slapping sound, like the smack of skin on skin. They grew louder until she and Damon paused inside the doorway to a large common room.

Though there was no actual divider, the room was arranged into several sections merely by the arrangement of various furniture. The decor was also different for the segments.

Women, men, some nude, some not, some indulging in passionate embraces, some in positions she couldn’t quite discern the purpose for, dotted the room.

Damon seemed to realize she needed the time to sort through the barrage of images coming too hard and fast for her to digest right away.

“Let’s start to the right,” he murmured to her. “We’ll make the circle.”

Damon drew up short when someone touched him on the arm and leaned in to whisper in his ear. It looked to be one of the people who worked for him, though she couldn’t be sure.

Damon frowned then put a hand to her back. “There’s a phone call I must take. I won’t be but a moment. Joseph will stay here with you until I return.”

He squeezed her hand with his other one before turning away and retreating down the hallway.

Joseph stood attentively by her side as her gaze again wandered over the room. There was so much to take in that she had a hard time processing it all.

To her immediate right, where Damon had intended for them to begin, two men were entangled in a passionate embrace on a pallet that reminded her of something you might find in a Japanese bedroom.

Though their kisses were wild, rushed, heated, they set about removing their clothes in a slow, measured manner. When she realized how hard she was staring, she looked away, embarrassed and ashamed to have ogled them.

“It’s okay,” Joseph whispered close to her ear. “No one in the public areas minds being watched. Many of our regulars routinely observe such displays. Voyeurism is a very legitimate sexual pleasure.”

Her gaze shot to his face, and heat crawled all the way up her neck and burned her ears. Just the word
voyeur
sounded ugly and more than a little icky.

Joseph smiled patiently at her as if understanding her discomfort.

But even though she was embarrassed by her close scrutiny of the two men, her gaze drifted back. The sight of two men locked in such an erotic embrace fascinated her.

Her eyes widened more when one of the men pulled at the other man’s pants, freeing his turgid erection. Her lips parted, a little in shock, a little because her breaths were coming in short, rapid spurts.

When the first man gently moved his lips over the other man’s cock, Faith’s pulse began racing. The sight should repulse her. Something told her it should, but just as quickly she discounted that absurd notion.

The man’s eyes cut over in her direction, and for a moment their gazes locked. She should look away, but she found herself unable to do so. A soft, secret smile curved the man’s lips as he worked his mouth up and down his lover’s cock. Then he winked saucily at Faith. She grinned and winked back then promptly scolded herself for being so brazen.

She jumped when Damon put his hand on her arm. She hadn’t even realized he’d returned. He smiled at her. “My apologies. I had to take a call from one of our members. Are you ready to continue?”

Her gaze returned to the two men making love on the silk-covered pallet before she nodded.

The next area featured two couples, one on a couch and the other on the floor, pillows surrounding them. The woman on the couch leaned back against the back, her legs splayed out in front of the man kneeling in front of her. His head lowered to her pussy, and her hand threaded through his hair, urging him on.

The woman on the floor was positioned on her hands and knees as the man behind her thrust eagerly into her body.

“Partner swapping,” Damon said in a low voice.

Faith’s eyes widened. “Oh, you mean like swinging?”

Damon smiled. “I suppose you could put it that way.”

He cupped her elbow in his hand and pointed with his other hand to an area in the corner. “I think the next few might interest you.”

When she looked up and saw what he was gesturing at, her mouth went dry. A woman was tied to a bed, her arms pulled above her head and secured to the bedposts.

She was blindfolded and gagged. A man held her legs apart and draped her ankles over his shoulders as he thrust into her repeatedly. Despite the gag, Faith could hear her moans of pleasure. Mixed with the heavy slap of the man’s thighs against the back of her legs, it sounded incredibly erotic.

A tingle began in Faith’s stomach and worked its way downward until her clit tightened and strained between her legs. Her nipples beaded and formed taut points. She crossed her arms self-consciously over her chest, not wanting anyone to see her visible reaction to the scene playing out before her.

Her eyes were riveted, and she was unable to tear herself away from sight and sounds of the couple. She blinked in surprise when another man sauntered to the bed, one hand wrapped around his jutting cock.

The first man pulled away from the woman while the second settled between her legs and immediately began rocking against her. The first man moved up the bed and began toying with the woman’s nipples, plucking them between his fingers. Then he bent and began sucking and nipping at them while the second man seemed intent on fucking her silly.

All the while, the woman writhed beneath them, her arms straining against her bonds. Faith’s eyes were glued to the ropes around the woman’s wrists, and a peculiar ache settled in her chest as she imagined herself in the woman’s place.

“You like this,” Damon said quietly.

Faith nodded, unwilling to voice her agreement.

“Then come. There’s more,” he said simply.

She followed, though she was reluctant to leave the triad. She wanted to see it played out until the end. Until the men relented and gave the woman her release.

They moved to the back of the room, directly across from the doorway they’d entered. Faith cocked her head in curiosity as she watched a man push a woman to her knees in front of him. He reached for the zipper of his pants and a few seconds later pulled out his cock.

With his free hand, he cupped the woman’s chin and tilted her head up so her mouth brushed against his erection.

“Open,” he commanded.

She dutifully complied.

He arched his hips forward, sliding his cock deep into her mouth. His hand still cupped her jaw, and his thumb pressed into her cheek to keep her mouth open. He slid his other hand to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he fucked her harder.

For several long seconds, the only sound was the wet sucking noise as his hips met her cheeks. The image did more for her than the action. Here was a man who obviously exerted control over the woman. He wasn’t loud or obnoxious, in fact, he very quietly uttered his commands, but there was a thread of authority in his voice that sent shivers skirting down Faith’s spine.

The man suddenly pulled back. “Rise,” he ordered the woman.

The woman rose on shaky legs, her naked breasts bobbing as she caught her breath. The man reached for a wooden paddle resting on a nearby table then motioned the woman over with his hand. Faith’s gaze followed the woman as she moved to an oddly shaped object that was a strange mixture of metal and leather padding.

The center had a scooped-out spot that reminded Faith of an inverted saddle. Its use was made clear when the woman bent over it, the notch cradling her abdomen.

Her legs rested against the inverted V that sprouted from the cradle until her body maintained the exact line of the apparatus.

Her head fell over the other side, and her arms dangled, then her hands grasped at the base to steady herself.

Faith’s gaze flitted back to the man, who circled behind the woman, his steps slow and measured. His fingers curled around the paddle that resembled some old-school discipline stick.

His hand cupped and caressed the woman’s bare ass. Then he pulled the paddle back and connected with her ass cheek. Faith jumped as the smacking sound filled the air.

The woman also jumped then let out a small moan as she settled back into position.

“You are to make no sound,” the man commanded. He struck her again, this time on the other cheek.

Blood rushed to Faith’s head, and her pulse pounded hard against her temples. Her fingers shook, and she curled them into balls at her side.