Masters 01Bis Doms of Dark Haven (2 page)

“Master Torin, you can release Master Blake,” Xavier said. His tone brooked no disagreement.

Reluctantly Torin loosened his grip. “Drop the flogger,” he told Blake.

“I—”

“If you don't,” he said with a quick smile, “you're giving me a reason to break your wrist.”

Elegant, calm, in control, Xavier nodded toward another dungeon monitor. The man moved in and extended a hand toward Blake. The dom glared at Torin before turning over the flogger.

“Now release Master Blake,” Xavier said to Torin, his tone still not wavering.

Slowly Torin followed instructions.

Blake rubbed his bruised skin. Torin had a moment of regret that the man's wrist was still functional.

The dungeon monitor helped Mira from the bench and held on to her arm for a few seconds, obviously giving her time to catch her bearings and get her circulation back. Torin scowled. He'd meant it when he said he didn't want
anyone
touching her.

For a second she looked at Torin. Her brown eyes were wide, focused on him. She blinked, and then, seeming to recognize her error in staring at him, she dropped her gaze.

Jesus God.

What the hell had he been thinking in not making her submit?

The little sub had begged him to flog her. More than begged she'd also cajoled. And when that had failed, she'd, in her charming way, even demanded, trying to goad him.

He preferred to play with superbly trained subs he might or might not ever see again. He'd never had an exclusive relationship with a sub, had never collared a woman. In his line of work, being moved around the country or planet depending on Hawkeye's needs, it had never seemed prudent. He'd never even been tempted.

He'd never played with a colleague either.

He had rules. Rules were rigid. They kept the world in order.

Still, two nights ago, she'd gone as far as to crawl into his bedroom completely naked, his leather belt held delicately in her mouth. He'd drawn on his adherence to rules—well, rules and the mental reserves developed from a lifetime of studying martial arts—to send her away and lock his door.

The dungeon monitor secured her hands behind her back and then exerted pressure on her shoulders so that she knelt before them.

“Take out the gag,” Xavier said.

Shit.

The dungeon monitor unbuckled the gag and slowly drew it away. She swallowed several times, and Torin couldn't take his gaze off her. Mira was as lovely as she was determined.

Her long black hair was pinned back in Victorian fashion, and a few tendrils had escaped their confines. The strands curved alluringly across her cheeks and at her nape.

Her gown was cut fairly low, in a way he was pretty damn sure would have been scandalous when Queen Victoria had sat on the British throne. The style of Mira's dress emphasized the alluring swell of her breasts. Her exposed skin had a lovely olive tone that spoke of her Spanish heritage.

On her knees, her head bowed, she was exquisite. And he was nearly undone.

“You are…?” Xavier asked, looking at Mira.

“Mira Araceli, Sir.”

“My Liege,” Torin corrected. “You will address Master Xavier as 'my Liege.'”

She looked up at him, then instantly back down. In front of everyone, he'd corrected her, and he knew she hadn't missed the fact he was establishing even more firmly his dominance over her.

“Yes, Sir,” she said without a hint of her customary defiance.

“Now answer Master Xavier's question.”

“My name's Mira Araceli, my Liege,” she said softly, more softly than he'd ever heard her speak.

The complete contradiction to the Mira Araceli he knew stunned him. Even when she'd crawled into his bedroom, she'd taken the lead, and that's what he expected from her. Hawkeye didn't waste his time hiring women, or men, who weren't leaders, who weren't resourceful. In addition to providing personal security services to the rich and famous, Hawkeye, Inc. employees operated in the world's most hostile environments.

Mira had passed the Hawkeye screening process, and Torin had taken the time to read her personnel file along with every report she'd written. She'd been in the Middle East, and she and her client had been the only survivors of a gun battle. She knew how to remain levelheaded in stressful situations; she knew how to handle herself. So this…

And why the hell hadn't he recognized her true submissive nature?

He'd thought she was likely a masochist. That wouldn't have shocked him. In their line of work, raw, nasty, gritty hook-ups were common, a way to celebrate being alive, a way to remind themselves they were still human.

Most of the personal security agents he knew were adrenaline junkies. Some drove too fast or burned through the gears on a crotch rocket; others signed up for extended tours and crawled through jungles or endured a mouthful of one-hundred-ten-degree sand. A handful he knew enjoyed sadomasochism; it was another way to fuel the fire.

He'd heard that the infamous Ms. Inamorata, Hawkeye's right-hand woman, even dabbled in the world of BDSM. He wasn't sure he believed the rumor, and even if it were true, he had no idea which side she would be on. The woman was tough enough to chew nails. He could picture her as a domme with tall, spiky stiletto heels. He couldn't see her as a sub, but then again he'd never pictured Mira as a sub either.

Xavier spoke, cutting into Torin's thoughts. “I take it, Ms. Araceli, that you were willingly engaged in a scene with Master Blake?”

Torin snapped his back teeth together. Dark Haven might be Xavier's club, but Mira was Torin's partner. “Xavier—”

She interrupted Torin's protest, saying, “Yes, my Liege.”

Fuck a goat, the woman had just given Torin another reason to punish her.

She continued either not recognizing or, more likely, ignoring Torin's clenched jaw.

“My Liege, I approached Master Blake when I arrived. He made certain to ask if I was alone.”

“Goddamn it!”

Xavier raised a hand to silence him. “Master Torin states you're under his protection.”

Even on the best of days, Torin didn't keep his temper under tight control. As it was, he figured he had another, oh, forty-five seconds of patience left. A minute, tops.

“Ms. Araceli?” Xavier prompted.

“Well…”

“A yes or no will suffice, Ms. Araceli.”

Chapter Two

Torin silently counted to ten, waiting for her answer.

“I—” She looked at Torin. She swallowed. “We—”

“Choose wisely,” Torin warned. He had no claim on her, and they both knew it.

But she was smart enough to realize they'd end up back at the same house tonight. They were stuck together for as long as Hawkeye said or until one of them admitted defeat. Torin figured that would be at least several months, if not years. The next few seconds were critical to her, to them both, to Blake's safety.

Despite his demand that people move away, several couples had gathered closer to better hear what was being said.

Finally, after swallowing, she reached the right choice and said, “Yes, my Liege. We're partners.”

“Then the decision to engage in a scene with Master Blake was not yours to make?”

Any other time he might have acknowledged Xavier's skill. As it was, with Blake standing there, onlookers greedily drinking in the scene, and Mira on her knees needing to be punished for her behavior, Torin wanted the drama to be finished and wanted her alone, subjected to his wrath.

“Mira?” Xavier prompted.

“Technically he—”

“
Mira
!” Torin snapped.

She swallowed and then licked her lower lip. She tipped back her head and looked directly at Xavier, avoiding all contact with Torin. “No, my Liege. As you said, the decision to give myself to Master Blake was not mine to make.” She bowed her head. “I'm sorry, my Liege.” She then looked at Blake. “I apologize, Master Blake.”

Apologizing to the whiny bastard who'd been beating her? Torin closed the distance between them and dug his hand in her hair. Pins scattered across the ceramic-tiled floor.

“You broke the rules of the club, Ms. Araceli,” Xavier said.

“I will deal with my sub,” Torin said.

Always the professional, no matter how much it pissed off Torin, Xavier crouched in front of her. Only the three of them could hear what was being said. “Since it's your first visit to my club, you need to know that Master Torin is well within his rights to punish you for your behavior. It's also at my discretion as to whether or not I will personally punish you.”

Torin felt her tremble.

“I'm going to give you a choice. I can turn you over to Master Torin, or I can call you a taxi. If you decide that I should call you a taxi, you will not be welcome at Dark Haven again.”

Torin tightened his fist in her hair and saw her wince.

“Thank you, my Liege.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I was disobedient to Master Torin.”

Master Torin.

Goddamn, his cock throbbed.

She glanced at him. “I'm sorry…Sir.”

“I'll leave this between the two of you, then?” Xavier said, standing and looking at Torin.

“I'll be taking my sub to the Medieval Room, if you'll excuse us?” He nodded to Xavier and to Blake. Easy to be magnanimous when you'd won, especially when the loser was cradling his wrist.

Torin kept his fist in her hair, not pulling, just exerting a small amount of pressure.

In all his years practicing BDSM, he'd never touched a sub in anger. He refused to allow her to be the exception. He would punish her because she deserved it, needed it, wanted it, and because it was a house expectation. But he wouldn't do it until his temper was fully contained.

He looked at the blond dungeon monitor and said, “I need a collar and a leash.”

Mira gasped. He tightened his grip, silently warning her to keep quiet. She'd pushed him as far as he'd allow.

The man snapped his fingers, and one of the waitresses dashed off. Dark Haven catered to all needs and kept an assortment of toys available for instances much like this one. Tonight he was particularly grateful for Xavier's foresight.

“Turn up the music,” Xavier instructed another of the servers.

Loud, thumping music rocked the walls. Tension eased and conversation around them resumed as people went about their business.

“No hard feelings,” Torin said to Blake.

“Fuck off, Carter,” Blake said. “How the hell was anyone supposed to know she was yours?”

How indeed? He'd never claimed her. Blake rubbed his wrist. “Next time, claim your subs.” He looked at the kneeling Mira. “And when you're done with this asshole, look me up.”

Torin took a step forward.

Xavier put out a restraining arm. “Enough, Master Torin.”

Blake glared at Torin before moving away.

“He's right,” Xavier said. “Claim her. If she comes to Dark Haven unaccompanied again, I'll back whoever does master her.”

With a tight nod, Torin acknowledged Xavier's order.

Within seconds the blond dungeon monitor returned with a collar and leash. “I'll take it from here,” Torin said.

“Yes, sir,” the man said, handing over the leather pieces.

“Your sub broke club rules,” Xavier told Torin. “And upset one of the founding members.”

“She'll be punished,” Torin promised. He took his hand out of Mira's hair, confident that she'd stay put.

“As I told Mira, it's my prerogative to mete out the punishment,” Xavier reminded him.

“Indeed.”

“But I don't want my wrist broken.” He smiled.

“Or your movie-star nose,” Torin supplied.

Xavier touched his nose instinctively. If he weren't so focused on the sub before him, Torin would have laughed.

“Watch your step, young lady,” Xavier said to Mira.

“Yes, my Liege.”

Then it was just the two of them. “After tonight we will still be partners, unless you request a transfer.”

She nodded.

“But we cannot leave here without your being punished.”

“Torin—”

“Master Torin,” he corrected. “You forced my hand, Mira.”

She sighed. “You didn't have to follow me here,” she said. “I was doing fine with Master Blake.”

“I'm already pissed, Mira. Don't make it worse,” he warned.

“You ruined my evening,” she said. If her hands hadn't still been secured behind her back, he imagined she'd have poked a finger in his chest. And here, in the club, he couldn't allow that to happen.

His temper had returned to a simmer when she'd chosen him over Blake, not that he'd given her much choice. The heat was getting turned back up.

“It's the weekend,” she reminded him. “And we are not working a case. I invited you to come with me to Dark Haven, and you turned me down. You have no right to go all mondo loco on me just because Master Blake was flogging me, like I wanted, like I asked him to. He tied me to the spanking bench like I wanted him to, and he was hitting my bare ass with just the right amount of pressure. I would have come for him in only a few more minutes.”

She'd carefully chosen her words to hit a nerve, and it worked.

“You're not willing to beat me, so it's none of your freaking damn business if I find someone who will. Keep out of my personal life.
Sir
.”

The little minx had added the “Sir” more as an insult than a term of respect. The idea of gagging her was becoming more appealing every moment. He leaned in toward her, close enough that he could kiss her. And wasn't that was a tempting idea? A gag, his cock, his tongue—all ways to keep her mouth occupied. “Let's get a few things straight. I'm here now, and I sure as hell intend to beat you.”

She shuddered slightly. She wanted to pretend she wasn't affected by him, by his words, his simmering anger, and the tension that had built between them over the last few weeks, but she was.

“Whatever you need, I'll make sure you get it.” Torin captured her chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger. He forced her to look at him. “Beating, flogging, spanking, punishment, humiliation, bondage…” He trailed off. “You will not go to Blake or anyone else, and you will not flash your cunt at anyone who wants to see it.” His reaction startled him. He'd never minded playing with other subs in front of an audience. One woman had been a total voyeur; she hadn't cared if he'd posted pictures of her all over the Internet. But this woman…
His
. “Understand?”