Cherise Sinclair - My Liege of Dark Haven

Her hair was wispy as a dandelion gone to fluffy seed. The downy hair on her arms was the same shade and indicated her mesmerizing coloring was natural.

“I’m not a submissive. I’m a Domme,” she informed him in reasonable tones. “I’m the one putting clamps on, not receiving.”

“The receptionists are always submissive.” Before she got herself in trouble, he made a guess and asked, “Simon recruited you?”

She nodded.

“Despite your overly encompassing clothing, I doubt Simon made an error.” Xavier took her pointed chin between his thumb and finger. As her smoky eyes widened and she tried to retreat, he let his voice slip into command mode. “Be still.”

A shiver ran through her, and her pupils dilated. Even her breathing stopped.

“Very pretty,” he murmured. Her surprise at her own reaction made his cock stir and brought his dominant instincts sliding to the fore. When she lifted her hand up to push him away, he captured her wrist. “No, little fluff, don’t move. I want to look at you.”

Her speeding pulse tapped a protest against his fingers. “I’m not submissive,” she whispered.

“Oh, I think you are,” he said. In fact, her Domme clothing looked so wrong on her that he was tempted to rip it off. “However, I might believe you lack experience. How familiar are you with BDSM? Have you been spanked?”

“No.” Her slight wiggle seemed to indicate possible interest.

“Toys?”

Her cheeks pinkened.

He’d bet the lady owned a vibrator. “Did your boyfriend use a vibrator on you?”

The flush started at the tops of her breasts and flowed upward. He’d never seen such a clear red color. Lovely. She gave a tiny shake of her head and realized she’d answered his intimate question. Her brows drew together.

“New to everything, then. Are you here because you want to know more?” But why would a newbie take a receptionist job? His eyes narrowed, and he took another guess. “You’re too impatient to wait through the screening process?”

She nodded, and her small upper lip pressed against the plump lower. “And the membership fees…”

Had gone high when he’d converted the club to exclusive. “I see.”

Should he let her stay without taking the class or being recommended? As the owner of a security firm, Simon had infallible instincts about people. A priority flag on her application would speed up her medical and background screening. And he did need someone on the desk. He tugged on a silky lock of her hair and caught a hint of a light springtime fragrance. “I’ll make you a deal. You fill out the paperwork, do the physical, and stay as a receptionist for at least four months, performing all the receptionist duties, and I’ll waive your first year’s dues.” He stepped back a pace to let her think.

Think she did. Her eyes turned unfocused in an expression oddly akin to that of subspace. Yet rather than relaxing, her entire body and brain seemed to jump into high gear. Unbelievably sexy. What would it take to shut off her brain?

Her attention returned to him. “Not that I doubt your word, but my reading indicated the lifestyle can attract unstable personalities. One, can you prove the manager will agree to your deal? Two, how do I know you won’t ask something of me that I will refuse to do?”

Intelligent women were so fun to play with. He hardened as he imagined a chess game. Spanking her for every pawn he captured. Fucking her if he took her queen. If she lost the game, then… Concentrate, Leduc . “Those are valid concerns.” Unable to resist, he ran a finger down her cheek. Her skin was as smooth as it looked. Smoother. “For question two—right now, I intend to use only breast clamps and bondage tape on your wrists. Do you have a problem with either?”

She swallowed. “I g-guess not.”

He studied her. He was pushing, but he didn’t think it was too much. Although he could overwhelm a compliant sub, this wasn’t one. And the receptionist did need to be able to fill in as a submissive when needed.

Off to the side, Dixon was shifting his weight from leg to leg as if expecting Abby to get flattened. “Dixon, can you explain who I am?”

“Please, my liege, she didn’t know. Don’t—”

Ah, the fluff had made a friend. “I’m not offended. She simply needs confirmation of my position here.”

Dixon turned to the young woman. “This is the owner of Dark Haven. Master Xavier. Call him ‘my liege.’”

Xavier sighed. He had no idea who’d first given him that title, but the submissives took such delight in it, he’d allowed it to continue.

Taking a step forward, Dixon whispered all too clearly, “For fuck’s sake, don’t upset him or say no to him.”

Don’t smile.

Abby’s lips curved into a provocative O. “Well. Forgive me, please, m-my liege.”

Since she wasn’t his, he tried not to think of the ways a submissive might demonstrate her penitence. “Now we have that straightened out, let’s get on with the lesson.”

Dixon motioned to Rainier’s submissive. “I…uh…brought her an ice pack, sir.”

Finished crying, the young woman had curled into a corner of the couch. “That was thoughtful of you. Ask Rainier if you may assist her while he joins me.”

“Yes, my liege.”

Xavier glanced at Rainier, who was leaning on the couch next to his submissive, and said, “I’m sorry for the delay.”

“No problem. Destiny would be hard to replace.”

“She has been.” Xavier set his toy bag on the oversize coffee table and removed a roll of bondage tape. He preferred leather cuffs, but the tape was less intimidating. After stepping behind Abby, he grasped her right wrist. “Abby, since we’ve not played together before, you tell me if something is getting to be too much.”

It’s already too much . Abby looked over her shoulder at the owner of the club. White dress shirt, black silk vest, black jeans, black boots. Definitely in the tall, dark, and handsome category, only the words seemed insipid compared to the reality. The wide, muscular shoulders turned tall into dangerous. His skin held the darkness of Native American ancestry, and the long black braid down his back was a definite statement. Very handsome, with chiseled European features that went well into hard-edged.

And scary. But she couldn’t back out. She doubted the man had a benevolent bone in his body. Quite obviously if she didn’t “assist,” she’d be out the door. She sure hadn’t thought her participant observation would include real participation. Unease tickled the back of her throat.

He glanced up, and the sun lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement. “Easy, Abby. The club safe word is red , and if you use it, play stops immediately. Say it loudly, and a dungeon monitor will show up to make sure you’re all right.” Holding her arm firmly, he wrapped what looked like wide packing tape around her right wrist a couple of times, and she realized the material wasn’t sticky.

“Red. Got it.”

“Abby,” he said. “I daresay you know how to address a Dominant in this setting, especially the one working with you.”

The uninflected reprimand made her flush as if she’d been caught cheating off someone’s test paper. “Yes, my liege.”

He didn’t rant but nodded acceptance.

Despite her relief that he hadn’t lost his temper, anxiety thrummed in her ears as he pulled her other arm behind her back and secured both wrists together. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend nothing was happening. She’d never been able to let Nathan put her in handcuffs. Why in the world was she allowing this stranger to restrain her arms?