“I don’t understand how some submissives like such ugly stuff,” Jacqueline was saying. “Getting put down. Humiliated.”

Rather than answering, the Doms around the table left the submissives to try to explain.

Not surprisingly, Abby spoke. The professor loved to teach. “Part of the appeal is showing your surrender,” Abby said. “It’s akin to taking more pain than you like, because it will please your Dom—which is giving up physical control. Humiliation play is giving up emotional control.”

“Doms like to work on areas you’re most uptight about.” Dixon wrinkled his nose. “That said, I’m not so much into the ucky things like piss or serious depersonalization.”

Abby nodded. “There can be a kind of humiliation play that’s beneficial and even erotic, when other types seem closer to emotional masochism.” She smiled at Lindsey, and, professor-like, called on her. “What do you think, Lindsey?”

So much for staying silent. Put on the spot, Lindsey frowned. Honestly, her vote went with Jacqueline. “I don’t think I understand the difference. It all looks creepy to me.”

“Degradation stomps on a sub’s feelings of self-worth. Not my thing. But humiliation play—like erotic embarrassment—works pretty well.” DeVries’s gaze lingered on Lindsey as his long lean fingers curved around his glass.

As she remembered how those fingers had curved around her breast, her nipples contracted—which everyone could probably see. Feeling her cheeks redden, she made a pfffing noise. “Bless your heart, how can a sadist like you understand anything about emotions?”

Indrawn breaths around the table told her what she already knew. She’d crossed the line.

DeVries’s eyebrows lifted, and he pushed his chair back. “Good thing you’re a receptionist. You can demonstrate what I meant by embarrassment.”

Excuse me? Receptionists were expected to help with demos, but no way. Not with deVries. She shoved her chair back. An inch.

His knee barred her escape.

She blew out a slow breath, trying to think. “Listen, I’m not up to your speed. Sir. Getting beaten raw is a hard limit for me.” And Xavier was death on people ignoring those limits.

“Guess that means I shouldn’t beat on you.” He took her chin, his hand tightening to the point of pain, letting her know she couldn’t escape. No kindness or amusement or anger showed in his level eyes. Lordy, she’d just discovered exactly why submissives called him the Enforcer. “Every time you speak—unless it’s your safeword—this show-and-tell will continue a minute longer.” He removed a small bullet vibrator from the toy bag under his chair.

“No, waaaait!” Her words ended in a shriek when deVries plucked her up and onto his leather-clad thighs.

He clamped an arm around her, pinning her elbows to her sides. With his other hand, he flicked the vibrator on and slid it under her leather skirt. It rested against her mound. Almost on her clit.

With relief, she realized she was too uptight to react to anything right now. She relaxed slightly. Okay, this is embarrassing…but bearable.

His cheek rubbed against hers as his husky voice whispered, “I remember the feel of you, little girl.” He repositioned his grip on the vibe, and his warm, hard fingers slid over her folds and traced around her entrance, reminding her how he’d brought her to orgasm over and over.

“I remember your taste.” His tongue ran over the curve of her ear. Hot and wet. He always knew exactly how to use his mouth, damn him.

Her body shot from no interest to a simmering desire.

He chuckled, his voice still low, only loud enough for her to hear. “I’d like to set you on my cock and make you ride me, feel that cunt of yours pulling me in. A shame that’s not what we’re here for.”

She stiffened.

He moved the vibe closer to where she was throbbing. “I know how much you like toys, though.”

As if she needed the reminder of that morning in bed. His grip on her clit. The way he’d forced her to endure the vibrator. Had hurt her. And had made her come so hard she’d almost died. “Don’t,” she whispered. “I don’t want this.”

“Ask me if I care,” he murmured. “You got a safeword if you can’t take it.”

The vibrations seemed to suddenly take effect, and heat swept over her followed by hunger. Holy shit, she needed to come. She wiggled, trying to get the vibrator closer to her clit. If he stopped…

And he did. After dropping the vibe into its plastic bag, he half smiled at their audience around the table. “Lindsey doesn’t like showing her genitals.”

Goddamn, how had he known that?

He flipped her skirt up and tucked the hem into the waistband, baring her.

“Don’t—don’t do—”

“Lindsey, don’t make me tie you up and put you on the stage.” The threat sliced through her struggles. One arm still around her waist, he spread her legs to dangle outside his, exposing her to everyone.

“No,” she whispered as embarrassed heat blanketed her like the air in a sauna. She remembered Victor’s disinterested stares, as if she were a mannequin rather than a woman.

She closed her eyes as deVries’s hand separated her labia.

“I enjoyed looking at her pussy, once I finally got her to open her legs,” deVries said to the others. “See how plump her lips are? And slick, fuck, she gets slick. Major turn-on when a sub gets drenched for you, isn’t it?”

His words stunned her, and she froze. He liked her…down there? Seeing her? The chorus of agreement was even more astounding.

“Nice clit too,” deVries continued, running his finger up and down, making the nub of nerves harden. “Sits right out where I can play with it.”

Could she get any more humiliated? Yet the thrill of pleasure swept over her. He liked her pussy. Really?

He used her own wetness to slicken her. “To be honest, though, have you ever seen a clit you didn’t like?”

More murmurs of agreement.

Maybe a woman’s pussy was like her breasts—men went blind and dumb at the sight of breasts, right? Victor hadn’t, but still… Yet Lindsey couldn’t face them. Eyes closed, she felt their gazes on her intimate parts of her like scratches from jagged fingernails.

“More than the taste and sight, I got off on this…” His finger rubbed along her clit, building a fire inside her, sending her excitement spiraling upward. His arm immobilized her. She was almost there…

God, she didn’t want to come now. No, no, no.

He took her hand, placing her fingers as he had before in bed, making her hold her folds apart. “Show yourself to them. If you don’t, I’ll dig out clamps to keep you open, and this will last a lot longer.”

Need and anger and humiliation warred inside her. Damn him.

Her fingers stayed in place, and she heard his satisfied grunt.

She managed to glance at the table, at the fascinated audience. No one was making horrid comments about her being ugly down there. The interested gazes were…hot. Not scathing.

Admiring. Aroused.

Her fingers trembled.

She heard him say, “Jacqueline, embarrassment can not only be erotic but also bust apart defenses keeping a sub from fully living.” He kissed Lindsey’s cheek. “You’re such a good girl. Now, stay like that.”

The vibrator come down directly on her clit, held there by his determined hand, and she shot straight to climax, with not even a chance to say a word. Her body jerked inside the prison of his arm, and through the roaring in her head, she heard her own breathless cries.

Her heart hammered; she gasped for oxygen. As she sagged against him, sliding into a mindless satisfaction, a cracking noise from the demonstration behind them split the air. On the stage, the submissive shrieked. Screamed again and again. More cracks.

Lindsey’s world blurred. The pistol in her hands jerked, and the blast made her ears ring. Blood flowed between her fingers, sticky and hot and horrible as Victor convulsed. His eyes went blank and empty. Her screams went on and on, yet nothing escaped her frozen throat.

Inch by inch, she sank into the quicksand of horror, finding no footing, no escape. The darkness closed over her.


WHAT THE FUCK. DeVries stared at the little submissive in surprise. She’d gone from a warm, squirming armful to a frozen, blank-faced puppet. Horror filled her face as she looked at…nothing.

Trigger. He’d hit a trigger, one he hadn’t been prepared for because—because he was an idiot. “Lindsey,” he said, his voice dropping into command mode. “Look at me, girl.”

She didn’t move.

He took her chin and turned her. “Look. At. Me.” He added a snap to the last word.

One blink. Two. She shuddered, her haunted eyes meeting his. Jesus, he’d fucked this up. Holding her gaze with his, he yanked her skirt down, covering her and turning her so he could cradle her in his arms. He’d mindfucked her right into something he wasn’t prepared for.

Sure, back before they’d first screwed, he’d checked through the records kept at the desk: her limit list, medical information, preferences. There had been nothing about past trauma or triggers. Nonetheless he should have gone over everything again with her. He’d gotten complacent.

Cuddling her against him, he glanced at the audience, seeing the appalled submissives. The more experienced Doms, including Ethan, wore frowns. They knew he’d stepped in it. He rose. “If you’ll excuse us, I’m going to find somewhere quiet and deal with this.”

“I think you better give her to someone who has a heart.” Slender, short, defiant Dixon stood directly in deVries’s path, showing that, no matter the popular opinion, male submissives weren’t pushovers. “Another Dom can—”

“No.” DeVries shouldered past.

“Fucking asshole,” Dixon muttered and hurried away.

Hell. A few steps away from the group, deVries stopped and considered. Where could he take her? Maybe downstairs. The dungeon had quiet aftercare rooms. “Hang in there, babe,” he said, rubbing his chin in the soft hair.

She didn’t respond.

Carefully, he moved around the tables and chairs, past the clusters of members, working his way toward the back of the room.

“Hold up.” Xavier’s deep voice halted him at the top of the stairs. Obviously the mouthy Dixon had found him.

Great. If the owner of Dark Haven thought deVries had overstepped with a submissive, their friendship would stand for nothing, which was the way it should be. “I fucked up. She did fine with a bit of erotic humiliation, but right after she came, she went into a meltdown. Damned if I know why.”

Xavier gently tilted Lindsey’s head. “Talk to me, pet. What’s your name?”

“L-Lindsey.” Despite being in deVries’s arms, she struggled to sit up. “I’m sorry, my liege, I didn’t—”

“You did nothing wrong,” deVries muttered. No, he was the one who should apologize—once he figured out what he’d done.

Xavier’s hand stayed on the little brunette’s cheek, undoubtedly feeling the shivers coursing her body. “Use my office. Get her back into her own head.”

“Thanks.” The office had a couch. Was quiet. “I’m taking her home after.”

Xavier considered him out of black eyes before nodding. “I know you’ll take care of her.”

The trust in his statement was one of the finest gifts deVries had ever received.

***

Lindsey roused, hearing an even thudding sound and a low rumble. Blinking, she brought her mind into focus. Warmth surrounded her, and comforting…arms…were around her. Arms? Yes, she was on a lap, her cheek against a hard chest.

The rumbling was a man’s voice talking to her. “It’s okay, baby. You’re safe.”

She tipped her head back and…met deVries’s concerned eyes.

“There she is,” he murmured. “You know where you are?”

“On your lap.”

“Right.” The corners of his mouth tilted up. “How about the general location?”

“Um.” Why was he holding her? Oh, she was in Xavier’s office. “Dark Haven.” She’d been talking with people. DeVries had grabbed her. She’d gotten off and… A tremor ran through her. There had been gunfire and—no, that couldn’t have happened.

Lordy, the top on the stage had been using a whip, and his bottom had screamed. And Lindsey had fallen right into a funk. Good going, girl. “I had kind of a panic attack, I guess, huh?”

“Something like that. Why?”

Oh, this was not good. Her brains weren’t moving fast enough to deal with questions. “A-a childhood trauma.” She swallowed at the disbelief in his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”