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  “Mae?”

  Startled by the sound of her name, Mae jumped slightly, knocking the locker door closed. Gabriela, Master Leo’s bonded submissive, was standing in the doorway. She was a lovely Hispanic woman and older than Mae, but maybe not as much as anyone would have guessed. She had waves of lush dark hair and wore a long black silk robe, held closed by an under-bust corset.

  “Gabriela, you startled me.” Mae tapped her chest, just over her heart. “I was just going to change.”

  “Don’t. Come with me.”

  Mae’s stomach muscles tightened and irritation morphed into trepidation. The only people who could send Gabriela to do an errand were the overseers, which meant that they wanted to talk to Mae about something serious. Was she being kicked out? Was that why she hadn’t gotten a letter? The idea of being shut out of Las Palmas was enough to make Mae physically sick.

  “Let me put my stuff back in my locker.” She reached for the keypad but stopped when Gabriela spoke.

  “Now, Mae.” Gabriela’s tone was soft, but firm. In the hierarchy of club submissives you didn’t get any higher than Gabriela, and only the unwise ignored an order from her.

  Tucking her phone and glasses into the sleeve pockets of her robe, Mae followed Gabriela out of the locker room. The abrupt change from ready-to-go-home to mysterious summons left her feeling off balance. If Gabriela had come even thirty minutes earlier Mae would have been prepared, but mentally she’d already started to check out, leaving her submissive side behind.

  They left the Subs’ Garden, which did indeed have a native plant garden in the small courtyard around which the submissive-only rooms were arranged. The hallways were mostly empty, with only a few people out and about, most of them wearing the cat-that-ate-the-canary smile that indicated they were in the middle of, or had just finished a scene.

  A few minutes later they reached a part of the estate Mae knew existed, but had never been to. The Spanish-style of the buildings meant that everything was arranged around courtyards, and the various playrooms had been named to go along with their gardens. Each court, and each playroom, had different equipment and amenities. The Constellation Court had six rooms, each unsurprisingly named after a constellation, and rooms large enough to accommodate large pieces of bondage equipment. The Sub Rosa Court, where Mae most often found herself, had playrooms modeled after bedrooms or living rooms and were named after famous roses breeds.

  For the first time, Mae found herself in the Iron Court, so named because instead of lush plants, the courtyard held a statuary garden, each piece rendered in metal and stone. The figures were those of naked men and women, each shown in some sort of bondage—a stone woman encased in bands of steel, a bronze male figure with chain wrapped not only around, but seemingly through, his arms and legs. Mae folded her hands together, letting the sleeves fall over them to hide how hard she was clenching her fingers. The Iron Court rooms were for people who liked their BDSM physical and dangerous.

  Gabriela stopped at one of the doors. There was no label on it, no name to the place she’d been brought.

  The other sub reached over and pushed one shoulder of Mae’s robe down so it pooled at her waist, exposing her right breast. “You’ll be okay.” She knocked three times on the door.

  With that Gabriela departed, leaving Mae staring at the closed door with no idea who, or what, was on the other side.

  Chapter Two

  “Come in.”

  The muffled words made Mae’s already racing heart beat so hard that she could feel her pulse in her fingertips. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself, drawing on her submissive persona.

  Everything is going to be fine. They’re just going to explain your part in the game. This room is probably the only one not in use tonight.

  Mae arranged her hair over her shoulder, fixed the bow at the small of her back from her double-wrapped sash, quirked her lips in a sexy little smile, then opened the door.

  It was a dungeon.

  An elegant dungeon, but a dungeon nonetheless.

  The floor was massive terra-cotta tiles, cold even through the soles of her shoes. The walls were rough stucco, painted a classic Spanish cream color, but that didn’t make the space seem any less threatening. Metal-studded wood panels, vertical bars, and horizontal boards were mounted around the room, providing plenty of places where someone could be bound. The high ceiling with its exploded wood beams was partially obscured by a grid of pipes, almost like the lighting rigging in a theater. A dark-stained wooden horse and straight backed chair were tucked against the far wall, and there was a stack of padded mats, the kind used for wrestling or in a gym, in the corner by the door.

  In the center of the room was a single brown leather armchair. The occupant was hidden by the uneven low lighting. His splayed lower legs were on the edge of a pool of light while his upper body was in shadow. He wore black pants and dark boots.

  Mae hesitated on the threshold. Whoever this was, it wasn’t one of the overseers.

  “Close the door.” His voice was a delicious low timber, his tone tinged with either impatience or irritation. There was no denying the command in his voice.

  Something in that voice called to her, stirred something inside her. The world seemed to spin, as if she were standing in the eye of a hurricane while the madness of the storm whipped around her. It was strange and thrilling to have such an instant and powerful reaction to someone she couldn’t even see. Her self-preservation instinct told her to run, flee this man and this moment before everything changed. Before he changed everything.

  But she was a moth to a flame—dangerously curious about something that was undoubtedly hazardous to her sanity.

  Mae tugged the door closed, sealing herself in the room with the unknown Dom.

  *****

  Xavier’s fingers tightened on the arm of the chair until the wood creaked. His palms tingled with the need to touch the beautiful creature who’d just stepped into the playroom.

  Mae was even more lovely in person than he remembered, and than her photos showed. Her skin was pale and creamy, making her red hair gleam, but the photo must have been a few years old. In person she was more mature in her face, placing her in her late rather than early twenties. Or perhaps it was the way she was dressed in the photo that made her seem younger. Tonight she wore a short Asian-style robe. It had fallen on one side, leaving her breast exposed. Her nipple was a lovely shade of rose, the tip hardened into a sweet little bud. A wide pink sash around her waist emphasized the curves of her hips. Her legs were bare and she wore black shoes with white puffy things on the toes.

  He wanted to rip the clothes from her and cane her ass and breasts until she begged him to fuck her.

  Xavier closed his eyes and reined in his impulses. This was exactly why he couldn’t be paired with Mae. Hours of arguing with Mistress Faith and he hadn’t gotten anywhere. He’d been tempted to walk away, forfeiting his membership, but Faith had convinced him to at least meet with the sub, and trust that the rules of the game, and the rules of BDSM, would protect both of them.

  Xavier took that to mean that once the pretty Mae met with him she would run screaming from the room. Pre-scene it was the submissive who held all the power, because the sub decided whether the Dom merited the trust needed to proceed. Mae would refuse and he would be free to find another sub to play with for the limited amount of time he had here. Though technically if Mae walked away, she’d be in violation of this ridiculous checklist game, Xavier had made Faith agree not to kick the submissive out if she did indeed run from him.

  What Xavier didn’t understand was why Faith was putting him through this. She knew he needed his time here to fight back the darkness inside him. Forcing him to waste a night like this was cruel…which considering the source shouldn’t surprise him.

  But whatever lesson Mistress Faith wanted to teach him, Xavier doubted she had any idea how truly torturous this was, because though he and Mae were as different as silk and steel, there was somethi
ng about her that called to him.

  She was smiling slightly when she entered, but the longer she stood there in silence the more the expression faded. Good. He wanted her scared enough to walk away. When she shifted her weight and clasped her hands together, Xavier decided it was probably time to show her exactly what was going on. Placing his hands on the arms of the chair, he rose and stepped into the light.

  *****

  Oh shit.

  Mae’s breath hitched in her throat when the Dom came out of the shadows.

  Master Xavier.

  There were a handful of truly terrifying Doms at Las Palmas, and this was one of them. Though he was an infrequent player, Mae recognized him. Even if she’d never seen him, she would recognize him from his description.

  Master Xavier always wore a black leather hood-mask, and rumor had it no one at Las Palmas had ever seen his face.

  The mask covered his whole head and neck except for his mouth, lower cheeks, and chin. A sub Mae knew named Sarah, who had submitted to him several times, said it was like Batman’s mask. They’d giggled about that, but quietly, as if Master Xavier might hear them otherwise.

  He was muscular, but not bulky, wearing a tight sleeveless top that hugged the muscles of his chest and firm belly. He folded his arms, which were thick with muscle. The unrelenting black of his clothing and mask drew attention to the skin that was bare. Mae focused on his lips, which were fuller than she’d remembered from the few times she’d seen him.

  “Mae.”

  A shiver ran down her back when he said her name.

  “Master Xavier.” She bowed her head submissively, but looked at him through her lashes.

  “You know me.”

  It wasn’t really a question, but she answered anyway. “Yes, Sir. I recognize your mask.”

  He let out one hard laugh. “Fine. Do you know why you’re here?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “We’re partners in the game. The checklist game.”

  Mae wasn’t really surprised—there was no other reason for him to have called for her, but hearing him say it made her stomach knot.

  She popped her hip to the side, propped her hand on it, and said, “I almost left, it took you so long to contact me.”

  She hadn’t planned to say that, hadn’t planned to act like that, but it was an automatic response, a defense mechanism. Mae teased and pouted, sassed and misbehaved. That’s who she was. When Doms came looking for her, that’s what they wanted.

  And it was the wrong thing to do with a Master like Xavier.

  Master Xavier started walking toward her. He didn’t say anything, didn’t run or yell. He just walked.

  When he was five feet away Mae took a small step back. Then another. Her shoulders hit the door behind her. In the next breath Master Xavier was there, looming over her.

  “Are you criticizing me?” That deliciously rich voice of his had deepened further. Each syllable seemed to glide over her skin.

  “I was only teasing, Sir.” Mae kept her gaze focused on the neck of his shirt and reminded herself that he wouldn’t, couldn’t hurt her. They were just talking—they weren’t in a scene, hadn’t negotiated to play.

  But as he loomed over her, she felt that strange stirring again, this time accompanied by the urge to sink to her knees, to spread her legs and bow her head in that simplest of submissive postures.

  “You’re teasing me?”

  The dismissive tone irked her and the urge to kneel disappeared. “Yes. I am. Though it was a little rude to make me wait so long.” Mae pouted a bit as she said it.

  Bad idea.

  Maybe if she hadn’t had so many glasses of champagne, or been mentally out the door when Gabriela’s arrival yanked her back, Mae would have been able to bite her tongue and play the kind of sub Master Xavier was used to. But she wasn’t feeling submissive. She felt ready to poke and prod this man until she figured out why she felt this inexplicable attraction to him.

  Behind the mask she saw his eyes widen at her response. His eyes were green. Not hazel, but a pretty true green.

  He leaned closer. “Little girl, you don’t want to play with me. Tell the overseers that you won’t sub for me.”

  Mae’s hands curled into fists. “I’m not your little girl.” There’d been a time when she’d reveled in being called that by a Dom, but her tastes had changed.

  He reached for her hair, fingers stopping just short of contact. “No, you’re not.” He stepped back.

  Mae’s mouth opened in surprise. Was that regret in his voice?

  “Tell the overseers you can’t be partnered with me.” He turned his back, apparently done with her.

  “Why?”

  Master Xavier faced her, clearly surprised she was still in the room. “Is this what you like?” He motioned to the dungeon-like playroom. “This is what I like, and unless you want to be spread open on the floor so I can whip your pussy, I suggest you leave.”

  Mae dropped her gaze, biting the inside of her cheek as a shiver took her. She didn’t want that. She wanted to be kissed and cuddled and spanked. Yet her body was thrumming with arousal, and her pussy was so wet she was afraid to move.

  “I meant why don’t you tell them, Sir?” The words were breathy, but she got them out.

  Xavier crossed his arms. “I did. I spent the last few hours arguing to have our pairing reassigned, but Mistress Faith refused. I was given the option of meeting with you or resigning from Las Palmas. Since I do not want to lose my membership, it’s up to you to walk away. You will not be punished for doing so; I saw to that.”

  An unfamiliar feeling settled over Mae. She’d been blessed in life by being smart, pretty, and having the kind of personality that drew people to her. There were very few times she’d ever been rejected, romantically, sexually, or as a friend. It took her a minute, but she realized what this feeling was.

  Embarrassment. Embarrassment and shame. He was rejecting her, without even getting to know her. She should get the hell out of here and back to the safety of the Sub Rosa Court and Doms who enjoyed the kind of submission she was willing to offer.

  She should, but she wasn’t going to.

  Mae raised her chin and folded her arms. “No.”

  *****

  Xavier narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, ‘No’?”

  “I mean that I’m not going to tell the overseers that I can’t be partnered with you. Everyone has to play the checklist game, and I’m not going to get in trouble just because you would rather have a different sub.”

  Rather have another sub? Xavier shook his head—if only she knew how hard he was fighting his attraction to her. He needed her to get out of here before he lost his internal battle and gave in to his desire to dominate her.

  “I told you, you won’t be in trouble. You’re making a mistake, little girl.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “If you sub for me, I’ll call you whatever I want.” Her attitude was both irritating and rather engaging.

  “Well I’m not subbing for you right now.”

  “If you’re still standing here in five minutes you will be.”

  “Fine, then I’ll stand here for five minutes.” Mae stepped out of her shoes and kicked them to the side. He saw her bare toes curl against the cold tile.

  Those cold little toes disturbed him. He didn’t like seeing her uncomfortable. And damn if that wasn’t the dumbest thought considering what he wanted to do to her.

  Xavier grabbed a mat from the stack and tossed it on the floor in the center of the room. He pointed, silently commanding her to stand there. Mae’s chin notched up in an even more defiant expression. Xavier had to admit he was impressed. She was ballsier than he’d expected.

  Their gazes met. Her eyes were the color of storm clouds. Xavier held her gaze, unafraid of the intimacy of such an action.

  A little shudder went through her. She lowered her eyelids, her defiant stance softening. She padded over to the mat.

  Xavier took a
deep breath as the air in the room thickened. He’d felt it when he looked into her eyes—the first hints of the power transfer that was so critical to BDSM play.

  “Kneel.” The order was a test, as much for him as it was for her.

  Mae hesitated and looked at him. He could see the war inside her—the battle between the desire to submit and the urge to fight back, to remain in control. She pressed her lips together, looked at the floor and then back to him.

  Now he read something else in her expression.

  Help me. Help me submit.

  He’d been with subs who needed that first push, but they hadn’t said “help me.” They’d said “make me,” their defiance carefully orchestrated to give him the opening to grab them by the hair and force them to their knees, giving both of them what they wanted.

  Letting instinct guide him, Xavier reached for Mae, giving her the physical contact that would help her submit. Instead of grabbing her by the hair, neck, or arms, Xavier ran his hand along her bare shoulder down to her breast. He caressed the tip with his palm, and when her nipple beaded, he pinched it between his curled index finger and thumb. Still holding her nipple, he repeated the order.

  “Kneel, Mae.”

  She dropped gracefully to her knees, whimpering slightly when the movement pulled the tip of her breast from between his fingers.

  She was sitting with her legs pressed together, her hands curled into little fists. Her hair spilled over her bare shoulder, almost long enough to cover her nipple.

  Xavier returned to the chair, bracing his elbows on his knees. Nothing was going the way he thought it would. Instead of running away, the lovely woman was far stronger than he’d imagined, and most surprisingly, was now submitting, despite an initial show of defiance.

  “I’m going to give you one more chance to leave. But only one. If you stay, you’re agreeing to submit to me, to be mine, until we’ve completed the checklist items. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Xavier picked the envelope up from the floor under the chair. “Once you hear the list, you’ll realize you’re not ready for me.”