She did, and he yanked the briefs down to her knees. “Lift your legs.”

Acutely conscious of where they were, she raised her feet so he could slide the briefs off. She started to lower her legs.

“Leave your knees bent. And, Beth, don’t wear underwear to the club again. Am I clear?” The implacable gaze returned to her face.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Any time I am not clear in my instructions, you are permitted to ask.”

She nodded and then froze when he flipped up her PVC skirt to expose her completely. She felt like a piano; his left hand playing with her breasts, and his right… His right hand moved up her leg and settled against her pussy.

“Sir, this isn’t a scene area,” she told him as if he didn’t know. This just wasn’t right. She glanced around to see if anyone—

“Keep your eyes on me, sub,” he said, pinching her nipple, and hot desire ran through her as if her breasts and clit were connected by high-voltage wiring. Lower down, her nerves flared to life as his sure fingers slid through her folds. When had she become wet?

His fingers circled her clit, never touching, and the nub began to throb. This was too much like last week. How did he do this to her?

With his left hand under her back, he lifted her, bringing her breasts up to his mouth. His right hand rubbed gently over the hood of her clit as his hot, wet mouth sucked her nipple. She trembled as hot need flared like lightning inside her, turning her insides molten.

His finger grazed over her clit, once, twice, and her core constricted.

He went back to stroking her folds. Oh, God, she needed more. Her mound tilted up into his hand. “Very nice, sugar,” he murmured. When she managed to focus on his face, he was smiling.

“Open your legs farther.”

She didn’t want to, really didn’t want to. Her fear had disappeared, oddly enough, but lying across his lap felt wrong. Too intimate. Scene play was more focused and less personal, at least when she had her way. The Dom would be standing and doing stuff. She shouldn’t be sprawled half-nude on a Dom’s body.

“Beth.” He drawled with a faint southern accent, the warning clear.

She moved one leg. An inch.

As his brows drew together, her foot crept to the very edge of the couch cushion. And as the movement opened her slick folds under his hand, he pushed his finger into her, hard and fast.

“Aaah!” The nerves inside her flared to life for the first time in years. Shocked, she arched her back, and he bent his head to take her nipple in his mouth as if she’d offered her breasts to him. He bit gently on the tip.

The sharp stab of need sizzled all the way to her pussy, and she tightened around his finger. When he sucked on her nipple, the pulling sensation squeezed something deep inside her.

He slid his finger in and out of her vagina, and his thumb angled to slip over her clit. The rhythmic sensation was impossible to ignore, coordinating with his sucking and biting on her nipple. Tension coiled inside her as her body swept out of her control. Her entire lower half burned. Every touch sent her higher and higher. She grabbed his arm, her fingernails digging into his wrist, needing something, anything to hold on to.

He paused, and little mews of need escaped her. He started again, driving into her forcefully, his thumb directly on her clit. Her thighs trembled as her muscles stiffened and held. Another fierce plunge, another stroke of his thumb over her clit and the room sheeted to white, a fireball of sensation exploding inside her. Pleasure sizzled through her nerves.

His thrusts didn’t stop. As her hips bucked, his left arm turned to a vise around her, holding her for his touch as he wrung every last spasm from her.

Damn, she was a gorgeous sight when she came, Nolan thought, his hand over her pussy, his finger still deep inside her. As her eyelids fluttered shut, her muscles went flaccid. He’d known she was tense, but not how extreme it had been until now when the stiffness flowed right out of her. He bent to lick her nipples, soothing the red marks his small bites had created. Each time his tongue touched her, her pussy twitched around his finger.

There was nothing as fulfilling as having a woman come apart in his arms, and this little sub had badly needed to get off. And more. Her scream of release had echoed with pain. He’d breached the barriers she’d erected to keep people out.

He hadn’t expected she’d trust him enough to let go. Not yet. But she was submissive, through and through, and dominance, not pain, was her key.

Sliding his finger from her body won him a low moan and blinking eyes. “Sir?”

Well, now that felt good; her unthinking acknowledgement of his mastery even before her brain turned back on. He flipped her little skirt down and gathered her up so her head rested against his chest. Her breath created a warm spot on his T-shirt.

Over the background noise in the club, he heard footsteps approach. Z stopped in front of the couch, a subbie blanket over his arm.

Nolan grinned and nodded, thinking that the Shadowlands owner should be called Father Z. Z tucked the blanket around Beth and left without saying a word.

She burrowed closer, her head fitting nicely in the hollow of his shoulder, and he caught the faint scent of strawberries and lemon. She was so light; he could hold her all night without a problem.

So he slid down on the couch, leaned his head back, and enjoyed the simple contentment of having a snuggly, satisfied sub in his arms.

She woke to the rumble of conversation around her, hearing men’s voices before she was quite awake. Where was she? A body shifted under her. A man’s arms were around her. She froze, her breath stopping as panic surged through her. Kyler. Memories flooded her mind, how he’d hold her lovingly after whipping her for hours.

With a thin wail, she pushed away from him, rolling off his legs, and landing on her butt on the floor. She scrambled backward, breath heaving, seeing only men’s legs around her. She’d woken to a nightmare.

“Stop.” A command.

Her muscles froze.

“Beth, look at me.”

Panting in terror, she looked up and into dark, dark eyes. Not pale blue ones. Master Nolan. Her arms almost collapsed as relief flooded through her. She licked her lips, tried to speak, and nothing came out.

He simply pointed to the floor beside his feet. His face showed no reaction or anger, as if subs panicked and fled from his arms every day.

Her bustier gaped open as she crawled back to him, the wooden floor hard and cold against her knees. She knelt next to his legs, keeping her eyes down. He must be furious. Her insides shook so violently that her stomach twisted, and she swallowed hard. Carefully she placed her trembling hands palms up on her thighs. She closed her eyes, tried to breathe, tried to remember where she was. Florida. The Shadowlands.

Master Nolan.

After a minute, he pressed her head against his solid thigh, letting her rest there. And he stroked her hair lightly. Little attentions, nothing special, the sort any Dom might give a sub to let her know he wasn’t upset, to let her know that he hadn’t forgotten her.

Nothing special, dammit. Yet the feel of his gentle hand on her hair made her eyes burn with tears.

She kept her eyes lowered, blinking fast, and the conversation continued around her. Master Z’s voice. The bartender, Cullen. Another Dom…maybe Master Dan? They were discussing upcoming activities. Theme nights. The Fourth of July. The Dom’s monthly meeting at the Palms Restaurant.

“So when are you going to start having your play parties again, Nolan?” Cullen’s voice. “I’ve missed them.”

BDSM parties? At Sir’s house? As the implications of that registered, she stiffened.

And he could feel it. The hand that had been stroking her hair tilted her chin up. “Don’t worry, sugar. You’ll have fun.”

No question as to if she’d attend, just the simple assumption she’d bow to his will. He lifted his eyebrows and waited.

Here in Florida, she had never, ever done a scene anywhere but the public areas of the Shadowlands. Never dated. Never used the private rooms upstairs. Do a play session at someone’s home? She shivered. But others would be there, right? So it wouldn’t be too much different than doing a scene here in the club with others present. She wouldn’t be alone with a Dom. With him.

“Yes, Sir,” she said finally.

He nodded as if he’d known she’d comply, and yet his “brave heart” was like a splash of warmth.

But the room still felt cold, and the tremors inside her were working their way out.

His hand stilled on her hair. With a firm grip, he pulled her between his legs and wrapped the blanket around her, tucking it securely beneath her knees. His legs against her sides felt like hot iron bars.

A trainee sub appeared in response to some motion, and Sir said, “Bring me a hot chocolate.”

When the hot chocolate appeared, Master Nolan put it into Beth’s hand, waiting until he was sure she wouldn’t spill. She sipped, and warmth flowed through her, heating her inside as surely as his surrounding body heated her outside. She felt enclosed and safe between his legs with his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. She finished the cocoa and set her cup on the floor.

As the conversation flowed around her, she dared to rest her head against his leather-clad leg. When his hand stroked down her hair, the sigh she gave was of perfect contentment.