Freed Page 2

  He wanted an experienced woman, and in his case, age mattered.

  Elliott glanced to Mary and he all but salivated. That type of woman was what he wanted. Educated with a Dom. Experienced in the lifestyle. A woman whom he could arouse by not even touching her. A lady that blushed innocently, yet could also play with kink and own her pleasure.

  Dmitri chuckled. “Interested?”

  “It’s obvious, I take it?” Elliott murmured, then turned to Dmitri and said with a smile, “Is she single?”

  “From what I know, I believe so.”

  Meaning Dmitri knew she didn’t have a steady lover, but Elliott figured that also meant Dmitri wasn’t sure if Mary had a Dom. Emotion crossed Dmitri’s face that Elliott couldn’t quite place. He was curious now to learn more about her, but he also heard the women approaching, so he quickly asked, “Would my interest be all right with you?”

  “Of course,” Dmitri replied with an arched brow. “A man would be good for her. A Dom would be even better.”

  Before Elliott could dig in to that statement further, the women entered the room. He hastily downed his drink and then rose from his seat. “I could use another.” He smiled at Presley, then asked the group, “Would anyone else like an after-dinner drink?” Presley nodded, as did Dmitri. Then Elliott turned to Mary. She hadn’t taken her eyes off him. Her breath grew raspy and her cheeks were flushed. Intriguing. “Some wine, Mary?”

  She licked her lips. “White, please.”

  He couldn’t remove his focus from her damp lips, creating all sorts of naughty sexual images in his mind. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he turned to confirm the other drink requests, realizing he’d been caught.

  A hint of a smile crossed Dmitri’s face. “White for both Presley and me, thank you.”

  Elliott turned to Mary, who stared at him with wide, excited eyes. Yeah, he understood her desire. He felt it, too. “Come, beautiful, help me gather the drinks.”

  She took a step forward, as if drawn by his order, not wanting to refuse. Which was exactly why he’d phrased the request as he had and not posed it as a question. He watched her, wondering over her next move. Sure, he was testing the waters, but he needed to understand this little puzzle.

  Mary drew in a deep breath, lowering her head, trying to recover her emotions. When she regarded Dmitri all heat had vanished from her face, her gaze was guarded. “White wine, you said?”

  Obviously sensing the challenge between his two guests, Dmitri smirked. “Two, please.”

  Elliott thought her response was ever the more fascinating. Not only did she shield her arousal so fiercely, not allowing it to awaken and be obvious to him, but she seemed hell-bent on keeping him at bay.

  In that one second, her actions told him: I turned to Dmitri to ask because I’m not following your order. I’m getting my friends a drink.

  Little did she know Elliott loved a challenge. In his life, he conquered businessmen who were known to make grown men cry. He’d gotten investors to dive into risky businesses. He loved those stone walls in life that needed to be broken down to succeed.

  Mary had unknowingly become his next conquest.

  She turned to him with her chin lifted high. “Are you ready to serve the drinks?”

  His frown pulled at the corners of his mouth as he took the final step to close the distance. He leaned down by her face, and the sweetness of her flowering scent spiraled around him. “I do believe I already said that I wanted you to help me get the drinks.” He arched a brow at her. “Did you not hear me?”

  “I heard you.” She hesitated. “I—”

  “Good,” he interjected with an easy smile. “For a moment there I thought you had a problem with your hearing.”

  She laughed softly, avoiding his gaze. “No, my hearing is just fine.”

  He noted the flush of her cheeks returned as he leaned away. “Then please come with me so we can enjoy some drinks.” A power play with him she would lose, of that he was confident. And he rather enjoyed hearing her following behind him as he entered the kitchen.

  Nice try, though, he mused to himself.

  He reached the kitchen island and removed three glasses from the side cabinet as Mary went to the fridge and pulled out the bottle of chardonnay. Once she moved to his side, he sensed her become still, almost frozen in time. He took the bottle from her and she stared at him with dazzling eyes, burning with a light he’d not seen in some time—fierce attraction.

  He uncorked the bottle and asked, “Are you a member of Club Sin, Mary?”

  She shook her head. “No, I prefer not to play with young men.”

  He smiled, filling up the first glass. “You are clearly a submissive, so do you play elsewhere, then?”

  “No.” She peeked at him before she pushed the second glass closer to him. “I’m no longer in the lifestyle.”

  Surprise flickered through him, and he hurried to finish filling the second and third glasses. He placed the bottle down and turned to her. She stared at the wine bottle, not moving, barely breathing, it seemed.

  Unable to stop himself, pulled by the attraction, he trailed a finger over her bare shoulder and her gaze snapped to him. He waited for her to lash out at him, but her mouth stayed shut. She wasn’t even blinking.

  He lowered his gaze and watched his finger running up and down her arm, and murmured, “Now, why would a submissive who reacts as beautifully as you do not play anymore?”

  “I”—she inhaled sharply and moved away from his touch—“it’s not something that interests me any longer.”

  “Funny,” he retorted. “Your body seems to disagree with that statement.”

  She snapped her head up, eyes narrowed. “By that, you mean?”

  Her glare struck him hard in the chest, being the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He loved a woman with fire in her blood. The stronger the personality, the better. “I would say that in my experience as a Dom, and that is about thirty years of experience, that you’re aching to play.”

  She stared at him for a few seconds before casting her gaze down. “You’re wrong.”

  “Am I?” He moved closer, getting right in her space. “I bet I could prove you’re wrong.”

  She looked to him again; the angry glare was gone. His cock twitched as he listened to her deepening breaths. Slowly, he lifted his hand, giving her the chance to move away, but again she stayed put. He gripped her arm, pressed his body against hers, and she leaned in to him, probably not even realizing she’d done so.

  Held captive by her mouth, he traced a thumb over her cheek. Yeah, darlin’, a kiss would be nice, wouldn’t it? “Now tell me again what you just said when I asked why you don’t play.”

  Silence greeted him.

  Her eyes were dark, deliciously aroused. He would bet money her lower lips were as puffy, red, and wet as the ones on her face. Leaning down, he brought his mouth close to hers, letting her feel the touch of a Dominant, and allowing her to experience the nearness of a commanding man.

  “You lie to yourself, beautiful.” He dragged his finger over her bottom lip, hearing the hitching of her breath. “I smell your need. I feel that your lush body is ready and willing.” Dropping his hand from her chin, he stepped back, and watched her brace her hands on the island.

  Intrigue and burning attraction had him reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a card from his wallet. “I hold a BDSM play party every two weeks at Dmitri’s casino.” Which was a gathering of kinky people who didn’t want to attend clubs, public or otherwise. “We have one scheduled for tomorrow night at eight o’clock. This card will give you access.”

  He offered her the card, but she didn’t accept it, so he placed it on the counter. “I promise that you would be comfortable there. Everyone is around our age, and all are looking for exactly what we want. A fun, private party to explore our sexual lifestyle.” Pulled by the electricity between them, he moved closer. “I want to play with you, Mary.” He brushed his lips across her cheek, relishing
her shiver while he whispered in her ear, “Stop lying to yourself, so that I can.”

  Chapter Two

  A little after eight o’clock the following night, Mary’s gaze scanned over the living room, admiring the grand piano in Aces casino’s presidential suite. All day she contemplated attending Elliott’s BDSM play party. It was during her long after-dinner walk last night that she decided Elliott had freed a dormant side of her. His offer was too tempting to ignore.

  The submissive within yearned for one night of blistering-hot sex under the hands of a Dominant. Though when she had arrived in the suite, Elliott was nowhere in sight and disappointment had slid through her. Last night, he made her feel alive with sensation. He reminded her of the woman she once was—sexual, sensual, and seductive. Maybe she had forgotten how good it felt to be touched and commanded by a Dominant. She hungered to remember.

  Mary observed the French doors, with views of the north and south side of the Las Vegas strip. The luxurious atmosphere provided the ideal, impressive location for the private play party, she thought.

  Wearing a corset and lacy underwear, she sipped her wine, swallowing the woodsy taste. She liked the Victorian furniture Aces had used to decorate the room, even though now it was intermingled with BDSM stations set up throughout. Under the assault of the images filling her gaze, her knees weakened and her skin flushed.

  The sounds of floggers slapping against skin and bodies rubbing together in sexual embrace made her stomach clench. This she had missed. And her body simmered in the hottest desire as she was being pulled back into a lifestyle she had loved. She took another sip of wine, and as the cool liquid touched her tongue, she embraced the memory of her introduction to BDSM.

  In the dark BDSM club with the hard-rock music blasting through the speakers, Charles ran a finger down Mary’s arm, whispering in her ear, “Does it arouse you to know I could do any of this to you? Put you on any of this equipment.” He pressed his warm, masculine body against her back. “Bind you. Swat your sexy ass.” His voice lowered as he squeezed her bottom. “Fuck you like the woman you are watching now.”

  Mary stared at the spanking bench with a woman bound to it, receiving an intense moment of lovemaking. The man behind her pounded into the woman with hard, unforgiving thrusts. She shivered. “Yes, it all turns me on.”

  Charles’s low chuckle brushed across her ear. “Welcome to BDSM, sweetheart.”

  Mary blinked out of the memory, wishing she was back in that time when Charles first took her to his old BDSM club, Chains. A public club that still existed in Vegas, but one Mary would never dare step foot into—not without Charles.

  She’d driven by the club every once in a while and it still looked the same, except for a new sign that glowed in the night. Though even if the building hadn’t changed much, she had. She wasn’t the same daring, sexually charged woman she’d once been.

  Last night, with Elliott, something had changed inside of her. Almost as if she was a newbie entering the lifestyle all over again. Feeling exactly what she had when she met Charles—a little lost and searching for something, even if she didn’t know exactly what that something was.

  All she knew was that she was pulled to Elliott in a way that she couldn’t disregard. He had taken her craving to play again, a desire that was just simple thoughts, and turned it into yearnings. How he touched her, and saw the submissive within, left Mary wanting to be freed again.

  Since the age of twenty, she’d lived the BDSM lifestyle with Charles, knowing that being a submissive was what made her happy. When Charles died, she went a hundred percent vanilla, even completely abstinent, becoming a different person.

  When they had their children, their playtime at the club had taken a backseat until the kids were a little older and more independent. They mostly played at home in the privacy of their bedroom, until the kids were old enough for a babysitter, which allowed them to play for an evening out on the weekends. Returning to Chains was like they were starting all over again. It was fresh, new, and exciting. Those first few years back into the scene had been thrilling. While her desire to love someone again did not exist, she craved the excitement of sex.

  With the kids older now and living on their own, she knew she needed to find a life without them. Her daughter, Cassie, was in New York, acting in a Broadway show. Her youngest son, Christian, was traveling the world with his girlfriend, and her oldest son, Calvin, was at Harvard, studying business.

  Of course, she had her sister, Jennifer, who lived ten minutes away, and her friends she met for dinner every month, though none of them knew her true self: the submissive that lay within. They’d never met the woman that Elliott had seen last night. One whom Mary wanted to remember herself.

  Those reasons brought her to the party tonight.

  She moved away from the door and walked toward a flogging scene and then leaned against the wall, trying to focus on the evening ahead, not on her past and Charles. Missing him never stopped, never got easier, but it was time to see to her needs.

  The blond woman in the scene was restrained to the chair. Her chest rested against the back as she knelt on the seat. Ropes were wrapped around her wrists and ankles. Her upper back and bottom were perfectly positioned for her Dom’s flogging, and he was coloring them a bright shade of red. The Dom’s physique appeared to be that of a much younger man; he wore black dress pants and nothing else. Obviously he was very studied in his craft as he professionally worked his sub’s body.

  The man’s body was a bit too skinny for Mary’s liking, and to her surprise as he turned, she could see that his chest hair was salt-and-pepper, which was oddly comforting. She was beginning to feel a little more relaxed among the crowd—nothing turned off her libido more quickly than being in a club surrounded by people young enough to be her children.

  She glanced around at the group of people also watching the scene. A nude woman was on her knees, sucking and playing with the cock of her Dom as he watched the flogging. Another woman sat on her Dom’s lap, leaning back as she rode him with her bare breasts bouncing wildly, as they, too, watched the couple onstage.

  Drawn in to the moment, Mary squeezed her thighs together, feeding pleasure to her aching clit. Watching others experience pleasure sent a sizzle sweeping through her, and her lower body responded with a desire that had been unmet for too long. A sensation she’d all but forgotten. The slightest movement of air in the room tingled her skin, feeling like fingertips. It seemed to Mary that the activities of the people around her were almost purposeful, like an attempt to allure and stimulate her.

  She shut her eyes, allowing herself to absorb it all. Her mind could not fight against the pull, wanting to experience once again what she now realized she missed. The dormant submissive inside her had longed for these images, delighted in hearing the deep sensual moans and slaps of leather, all the while inhaling the musky scent of sex.

  “Watch them fuck,” Charles growled in Mary’s ear, dragging her hair over her shoulder and kissing her neck. “Watch them get off, and then I will fuck you even harder than what you are seeing now.”

  Mary gasped, squirming both from his warm kiss and at the sight of the woman riding her handsome Dom. Up and down, the woman moved with hard thrusts as the man assisted her with his hands on her hips. Hours now Mary had been in the club. She couldn’t take much more of simply watching and not enjoying herself. “I want you, sir.”

  Charles dragged a finger along the side of her neck. “Then play with your clit, Mary. Make yourself come when that sub does. Mirror their sounds.”

  A harsh shiver blasted into Mary as she lowered her hand, sliding her fingers into her panties and swirling her clit. With each brush against her bundle of nerves, she reminded herself exactly what that experience had been like. Almost as if Charles whispered the order in her ear.

  She shut her eyes and gasped as zings of pleasure engulfed her, then awareness drifted across her senses, drawing a buzz of electricity within. When warm, strong fingers slid
over her arm, she quivered as the sensual sensation rocked into her body. She slowly removed her hand from her panties, unsure and uncaring if anyone had noticed her. They were most likely all involved in their own enjoyment.

  A masculine sound at her back tsked. “No, darlin’,” Elliott drawled in her ear. “Don’t stop.”

  Licking her lips, aroused by his deep voice, she did as he suggested and returned her fingers to her clit. This time she pressed over the top of her panties, pleasuring herself. Opening her eyes, her gaze remained frozen on the woman bouncing on the thick, long cock, moaning deep in pleasure from the scene in front of them.

  The sounds of skin against skin engulfed her. Her own body throbbed with their intensity. “Thank you, sir.” Protocol had not been established at this party, but she assumed attendees were to be respectful of the lifestyle.

  “I’m glad you decided to come tonight,” Elliott said.

  Mary knew she should face him, but somehow she couldn’t. Though she rejoiced that Elliott had joined the party and touched her now, her body burned in every sense of the word, as come sounded like a promise. “The offer was impossible to ignore.”

  She swirled her clit harder as Elliott pressed his masculine body against hers. While the men at the party were older, most baring their torsos, some were attractive, but many others didn’t interest her. Mary was athletic and liked being healthy and taking care of herself, and she knew Elliott enjoyed the same. He held a powerful touch, and what she’d seen of his strong body was perfection.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” he murmured, rubbing his hard cock against her bottom.

  She shivered, shutting her eyes against the heavy need in her body. “Yes, sir.”

  He flicked her hair over her shoulder, dragging his mouth against her neck, and whispered in her ear, “Ah, but I think you could enjoy it more. Don’t you?”

  “Most definitely, sir,” she rasped.

  “You can call me Elliott, though sir works, too.” He nibbled her neck, not as if she was a stranger, but as if she was his prize.