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  When a flicker of movement caught her eye, her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. Cora blinked, and then blinked again. She remained rooted on the spot as Porter approached with wide steps and swagger. His hazel eyes held hers, and in khaki pants and a white T-shirt, Porter looked lethal.

  When he reached her, he gave his mischievous grin. “Hello, Cora.”

  “Err …” She blinked twice. “Hi.”

  Her thoughts spun wildly out of control, and she battled the haziness to understand why the hell he was here, with Aidan. Had Porter joined Club Sin? Why hadn’t he told her that on the phone? Wait … he said he was going to Chains. “What are you doing here?”

  Porter examined her as if looking deep into her soul. “Got a visitor’s pass.”

  Her nose scrunched. “I didn’t think Master Dmitri gave visitor passes?”

  He shrugged. “He does now.”

  One answer told her everything she needed. All her hopeful thoughts crashed and burned; nothing had changed. Aidan wasn’t seeing the problem within himself. He thought it was about Porter.

  She turned to Master Aidan and her mouth slackened. In the depths of his gaze, a truth shined through: He’d brought Porter to Club Sin to comfort her. While part of her hated him for it since he was still so blind, his action also warmed her, exactly why she couldn’t walk away.

  Deep down, Aidan was a good man.

  He hadn’t demanded information from her, nor had he forgotten her pain. He’d done what a loving friend would do: He brought a person that she’d indicated had been part of her pain in her past and forced the confrontation to help her.

  Dear God, a Dom had gone to another Dom for help. Wasn’t that unheard of? This single action spoke to Aidan’s worry, and how much he undeniably cared about her. Only problem? It still wasn’t enough.

  He wasn’t facing his pain. He was only trying to deal with hers.

  Tears welled in her eyes before she could control them. She parted her lips and only a soft breath of air escaped. Master Aidan brushed a finger over her cheek, his gaze focused and attentive. “Catch up with Porter. I’ll return to you soon.”

  His voice was devoid of emotion, utterly deadpan, making her heart drop. With a grave expression, he strode away. Time stopped. No, stay. Cora gripped her middle, rocking slightly on her feet as she turned to Porter. “Did Aidan ask you to talk to me?”

  “He’s worried.” Porter’s genuine smile cut through the ice invading her. “So let’s talk.”

  Cora followed Porter to the couch near the entrance and her stomach churned. When would Aidan see her and the truth staring him in the face? She crumbled down next to Porter, gripping her middle in hopes she wouldn’t vomit.

  When Porter turned to her, regarding her, she rubbed her hands over her face. She knew a truth she didn’t want to accept. Aidan must have gone to Chains to seek Porter out, which meant he’d returned to the place he played with Lily. God, she couldn’t even imagine what memories that had brought him.

  She wanted him to get over his pain, not drown in it.

  With nausea setting in, she dropped her hands and curled her legs underneath her. Looking to Porter, she noticed the creases around his eyes. Somehow three years had made him distinguished. He appeared wiser, even more authoritative than she remembered. While they talked mostly through e-mails, chats, and once in a while got together for dinner, she hadn’t seen Porter in a nearly a year.

  Now, sitting next to him, it seemed as if no time had passed at all. She inhaled, scenting the same citrus cologne he always wore. Where Presley was her best friend, Porter was the male version. They just got each other. She felt safe with Porter. More important, she knew without a doubt he’d always have her back.

  His presence now spoke to that level of friendship. Aidan might’ve asked Porter to come tonight, but Cora knew he wasn’t doing it for Aidan. He loved Cora, and hearing she might have been in trouble brought him here.

  That concern stormed through the depths of his eyes.

  He leaned against the couch, lacing his hands behind his head. “How’s your family?”

  “My parents are good—retired and relaxing.” Small talk, she hated it, and she shifted uncomfortably against the leather. She also knew why he was doing it—he was taking some time to get a read on her. “Cassandra is on her third kid and living a very vanilla life.”

  Porter snorted, laughing. “Does your sister still live in Vegas with her very vanilla husband?”

  Cora nodded. “Yup.”

  The hard rock song drifted through the speakers, as the shock of what Aidan had done smacked her like a hard brick. Porter likely thought she had issues with him, and that was never anything she wanted.

  She stared at her ex-Dom, who studied her closely. Under his stare, memories surfaced. He had taught her so much about BDSM, and about what it truly meant to submit to a man. Hell, he had laid out the foundation of the submissive she was today.

  By the hard set of Porter’s gaze, and the confidence all but oozing out of him, Cora figured he’d become more experienced in the three years they’d been apart. To her, it was as if she stared at a Club Sin Master, a well-trained Dom, educated in all things BDSM. One who knew how to handle a submissive, even a sassy one like Cora.

  Porter had always said, “A weak man can’t handle a submissive like you, Cora. A strong Dom knows exactly how to make you surrender.” And she always submitted, every single time. No glares and smart mouth had worked on him, nor do they work on Aidan.

  The difference between the two Doms? Porter’s touch never had the effect of Aidan’s; they didn’t shake the foundation of her world. His expression didn’t freeze time, and his mastery didn’t make her nearly as heated. In Aidan’s command, Cora discovered something deeper, something powerful.

  Something she allowed herself to be hurt over, because she couldn’t get enough.

  Porter tilted his head, and whatever crossed her expression had him clearing his throat. “What’s going on, Cora? Aidan is worried about you.”

  What have I done? How have I caused this?

  It was all getting too personal, too close to a truth she didn’t want to admit. She curtained her face with her hair and dropped her chin to her chest. “Thank you for coming to see me. Honestly, it’s all very sweet.” She looked to him, spotting an ugly twist forming at his mouth. “There’s no need to worry. I’m okay.”

  “Lies, Cora. Lies.” Porter gave a quick, disgusted snort. “When did all this lying start?”

  She remembered that tone all too well. Her fingers tightened into fists. She had quite enough of being forced to talk about something she didn’t want to talk about. “Can’t a woman feel things without nosy Doms poking around?”

  “Doms who are acting out of concern,” he offered gently.

  She raised her eyebrows. “Coming from one of those nosy Doms.”

  “Ah, at least the sass hasn’t changed.” Porter stroked his chin, regarding her. “Speak to the problem, Cora. It’s not like you to hide.” His chin dipped, lowering his gaze to hers. “I’m not here to interrogate you. I came because I deserve answers to settle my mind.”

  “Answers that are none of your business, since, news flash, you are no longer my Dom,” she retorted with a scowl. “Answers that I don’t want to give. Answers to a nonexistent freaking problem.”

  He frowned. “Being defensive does not look good on you.”

  Cora murmured a curse beneath her breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m done explaining myself. If I have to say I am fine once more, I’m going to deck the next person who makes me say it.”

  “Note taken.” Porter chuckled. His eyes danced as he raised his hands in surrender. “I won’t make you say that.”

  “Good.” She scoffed. “Finally, someone is listening.”

  Porter paused, his eyes squinting with his regard of her. “While I know better than to push you too far, since I enjoy my face, please talk to me a little. Aidan’s concern has me thinki
ng it has to do with me.”

  “It’s not about you.” She twirled her hair in her finger. “It’s got nothing to do with nothing. Please hear me,” she said through gritted teeth, “there is no problem. I am perfectly happy and ready to have Master Aidan rock my world.”

  Porter shook his head in mirth, grinning at her. “Fair enough.” Then his expression tightened. “Let me ask this: Have your thoughts on our relationship changed?”

  She sighed with exaggeration. “No, it’s all peachy.” At the narrowing of his eyes, she added, to put a dead stop to the conversation, “Only happy memories fill me when I think of our time together. But whatever I feel is mine to feel. I don’t need—or want—you or Aidan to worry about a problem that doesn’t exist.” She inhaled a sharp breath and smacked her hands against her thighs. “I. Don’t. Need. Fixing.”

  Aidan needs fixing!

  Porter gave her a long look before his chin lifted. “All right, Cora, I hear you. That’s all I needed to hear.”

  Cora’s muscles relaxed with her long exhale. One Dom finally seeing sense was good. Yes, she hid her feelings about Aidan, but she was okay with that. It was not a problem.

  Porter lifted his feet onto the coffee table, spreading his arms out over the back of the couch. “When do you plan to tell Aidan that you’re in love with him?”

  Cora’s mouth dropped open.

  Porter chuckled. “I suspected when Aidan told me earlier what was going on.” He tapped her mouth shut. “One look at you and I see it written all over your face.”

  She gulped. “I …”

  “Cora.”

  The breath she held left her in a rush. She turned to Master Aidan, who loomed over her. He didn’t appear shocked, indicating that he hadn’t heard what Porter had said. Though she was relieved, his heated gaze stormed like fire across her flesh.

  In one second, the reason her relationship had ended with Porter appeared. He’d never stirred desire with simple words or one commanding look. She loved her friends, but this—her connection to Master Aidan—held no beginning and no end.

  Aidan’s shadowy eyes blazed, alert and focused. “You’re with me now.”

  Now that she had tasted passion with every sense of the word, there was no turning back. “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Ten

  Perfection awaited Aidan at the wooden pole stationed a few feet from the spanking bench. A pole that was, in fact, a support beam that Dmitri hadn’t wasted. Instead, he’d boxed in the metal pole with thick cherrywood, turning what could be a design flaw into a perfect BDSM station.

  The spotlight above gently cast over Cora’s naked flesh as her back was to him, exactly as he instructed. Aidan’s heart rate slowed and heaviness pooled in his groin. The noise muted and his focus centered on Cora. His breaths became shallow, and pain formed in his jaw from the constant clench.

  He’d swallowed his pride to help her. His manhood had been tested to extremes he’d never endured. Though Porter might hold a close relationship with her, Aidan was her Dom. Tonight he’d ensure neither of them forgot that Cora no longer belonged to Porter.

  Aidan wasn’t above jealousy, and his desire to show his dominance to prove Porter no longer held Cora’s submission was a need that he couldn’t refuse. She awakened under his touch and soared under pleasure. They shared a connection she’d never experienced with Porter, if the breakup had anything to say about it.

  His thoughts weren’t centered on what Cora and Porter had talked about; he only hoped they had talked and she’d shared something with Porter. While Aidan accepted that she couldn’t talk to him, it didn’t mean he’d allow Porter not to see that Cora awakened beautifully under his touch.

  Now, in this moment, she belonged to him.

  With the warm air brushing across his overheated flesh, he moved precisely through the dungeon with a lengthy stride; each step bringing him closer to stake his claim. His to control. His to give pleasure. His to demand pleasure.

  All his.

  He reached Cora at the pole, and leisurely scanned over her exquisite frame. His mouth moistened under the desire to lick up the line of her spine, and his fingers twitched to slide over her smooth flesh. As his gaze traveled lower, he grinned at her tight buttock muscles, a telling sign she knew he had arrived.

  “Yeah, luv, I feel you, too,” he murmured.

  He took the final step to close in, and as he traced his fingers down her spine, she startled. A soft moan spilled from her lips as her body softened. She moved with each caresses of his fingers, slowly following his touch. As if he was attached and she had no other choice.

  That’s right, beautiful, you are mine now.

  His fingers reached the top of her buttocks above the two dimples, and he slapped the round flesh of her ass. She gasped, and with a loud crack, he smacked the other cheek. Cora shivered.

  “Proper position,” he said.

  She took a small step forward and wrapped her arms around the pole, pressing tight against the wood. Her hands slid up the wood slowly, and Aidan’s groin heated as she took her time, feeling the hard texture against her skin.

  He squeezed the fleshy part on her bottom and she squirmed, her breath hitching when he slapped her cheek twice. “Better.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she rasped.

  With a final squeeze of her fine ass, he turned to the tray and grabbed the two black ropes. Tonight, he’d remove the distance between them, and he wouldn’t share her with anyone. A burn filled his chest as he returned to her back. He needed to have her close. He needed for her to be okay.

  Tonight, he’d make sure she was, and not stop until nothing lay between them. And he hoped Porter watched just how deep she was under his command. He regarded her harsh breaths and the roll of her hips as he formed a cuff with the soft hemp rope. Her hair hung loosely along her back, inviting him to thrust his fingers in its strands and pin her exactly where he wanted.

  Moving to her side, he took her hand off the pole and she stiffened. Her heated gaze cut to him as he wrapped the rope cuffs around her wrists and yanked it tight. While he secured her to a metal loop at the top of the pole, Cora bounced lightly on her bare toes.

  Once he finished binding the second wrist, his harsh breathing matched hers. Cora’s eyes shone, and her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip. He chuckled. “You’re impatient tonight, luv?” He pressed against her and whispered in her ear, “So am I.”

  “I need you, sir.”

  Her low whisper washed across him as the four words skipped his heart. His brow furrowed as he ran a hand down the side of her body, unable to look away from the flush of her cheeks. His knees loosened and weakened under the parting of her lips. And as he lifted his gaze to her firm eye contact, the side of his mouth curved. “Of course you do.”

  When he stepped back to admire her, his groin grew heavy. Under his restraints, she trembled. A low rumble rose from his chest under the lines of her body, curves that called for him to claim pleasure. He lowered his chin, bringing his eyes in direct line with hers. “We understand each other that when I put you in place, you stay there. Those feet do not move, Cora.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Satisfied by her position and acceptance of the restraints, he moved in beside the pole and gazed into her dark eyes. “I want silence, Cora.” Silence to play as I like. Silence to embrace our connection. Silence to remind you that I care. “Moaning or screaming is permitted. Understand?”

  She leaned her head against her arms; her voice lowered to a soft whisper. “I understand, sir.”

  “Very good.” He removed the distance between them and he stole a kiss out of her mouth. Her mouth wasn’t firm and struggling but gentle and willing. His pulse raced under each stroke of her tongue and every slide of his lips.

  She moaned, and he greedily consumed each one. As his muscles quivered to forget the scene altogether and take her to a bed to make love to her all night long, he broke the kiss. With his heart banging in his chest, he slid his finge
r over her bottom lip.

  Transfixed by her, he grunted against the desire to go in for more kisses. Give her more. With her gaze glossing over, he pressed a light peck onto her soft lips, and then he dropped his hand.

  The scent of cinnamon that belonged only to Cora followed him to the tray off to the side. He grabbed the black elk flogger and settled in behind her. With her naked, unmarked skin as his playground, he raised his arm.

  Before the leather tails connected, her bottom tightened. The moment the thud echoed around him she softened. Her gasp slid over him as he smoothed his hand over the spot he’d smacked.

  Keeping a keen eye on her, he put physical distance between them. Then, with a steady stream, he sent the leather tails onto her bottom. The rhythm of the hard rock music from the speakers set his steady pace. Losing himself in the dance with her, he moved and swayed with each whack.

  Done well, a flogging to a submissive equaled the sensation of a massage. Where touching a clit brought pleasure, the fast smack of a flogger brought warmth and release. That delivered a submissive into sensory overload.

  Between the whacks, he smoothed his hand over the redness developing on her flesh, and he heard low voices from the crowd behind him. His focus remained on a submissive so beautiful he relished showing her off.

  With each flick of the flogger, he bounced on the balls of his feet, and the loud thud carried deep into his soul. Each hit delivered deepened the color of her skin and increased her moans. His mouth moistened under the normal creamy shade of her flesh, but his cock ached at her dark red bottom.

  He flicked the flogger in greater speed and force, and her moans didn’t indicate pain. Even if he suspected her skin was sensitive and tender, she offered feminine, aroused sounds that morphed together in a delectable hum. Lowering the flogger, he brushed his fingers across her heated bottom, and his cock jerked under her flawlessness—she wasn’t too thin and too athletic—she was fucking perfect.

  With a final hard whack on her ass, he pressed his throbbing cock against her thigh. Her soft moan and squirm against him had him rubbing against her, too. Tonight, though, wasn’t about his needs, something he continually needed to tell himself. It was all about her and, more so, centered on their connection.