Tiffany Reisz

It's Not Erotica Until Someone Gets Hurt

Daniel Part Two - Chapter Eight, Part 2

Chapter Eight, Part Two - Fin The final chapter of Daniel, Part Two is dedicated to Alyssa Palmer (@alyslinn on Twitter). Mon canard, je t'aime.

“Bid that,” Daniel said, loving Eleanor for her courage. Loving her for the first time as a friend and nothing more. “Times ten.”

Eleanor raised her hand and in a clear strong voice called out, “Two million five hundred and sixty thousand dollars.”

The entire assembly gasped again.

“Did I do that right?” Eleanor whispered. “I hope I did that right. I’m shit at math.”

“Madam?” the auctioneer said as he turned to her. “Are you quite sure?”

Eleanor nodded.

“Oh, hell yes,” she said toward Anya. “I’d hit that.”

From across the room Eleanor’s owner’s smirk turned into a furious steely-eyed glare.

“He’s going to kill you, isn’t he?” Daniel asked.

“Probably. Ask me if I care.”

From the stage the auctioneer announced, “Going once…going twice…sold to the young woman in the dress who would hit that.”

Eleanor ran to the stage, took Anya by the hand, and dragged her toward Daniel.

“Don’t worry,” Eleanor was saying to Anya as she brought the girl to him. “I won’t make you put out. Unless you just really want to. Here’s the money man. I bought you but he’s my backer. See?”

Daniel handed Eleanor a check made out to her for two point five-six million dollars.

“Give me a second…I want to enjoy this.” Eleanor held onto the check and kissed it before tucking it into the bodice of her dress. She pulled out a black check of her own and wrote, “Two million five hundred and sixty thousand dollars on it.”

Eleanor sighed heavily before handing her personal check to Anya.

“Was nice while it lasted. Talk to Daniel. I need to go to Confession right now.”

With a wink, Eleanor ran off to her owner who merely snapped his fingers in her face. Her smile disappeared and she followed him back into Kingsley’s house.

Anya turned to him and Daniel raised his hand.

“Let me speak. Please,” he said and Anya closed her mouth. “I’m an idiot. I said exactly the opposite of what I meant to say that night. All I meant to say was…I want you in my life. I want to take care of you. And all your brothers and sisters. I’ll take care of them too like they were my own children. I saw the way you held Leonard and someday I would love to see you hold our child like that. Hopefully he won’t be as fur-covered…”

Anya smiled a little but he didn’t let her speak.

“I’m getting way ahead of us but that’s what I do. I need to say I’m sorry. I am so very sorry. Men have two heads and I wasn’t thinking with the one I needed to be thinking with at the time. I didn’t have Eleanor bid on you as my proxy tonight so I could sleep with you. I just did it so you wouldn’t have to give yourself to someone you didn’t want to be with. And the money is real. I’m good for it. I’ll write a check tonight and you can keep or burn it or spend it on dartboards with my face on it. For two and a half million…that’s a lot of darts. I probably deserve more than that. You look beautiful tonight. You always look beautiful. And…no, that’s everything. I’m done making an ass of myself now.”

He stood there in silence and waited. Anya looked everywhere but up at him.

Finally she opened her mouth.

“Merci,” she said before turning on her heel and walking away into Kingsley’s house and out of his life.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the trunk of the orange tree. All of his hopes for Anya…all of his dreams for them…he let them go. Because they were so low on his priority list compared to her safety that he couldn’t even begin to be sad yet. He knew he would be, tomorrow perhaps and then every day of his life after. But she wouldn’t be giving her body to a stranger and a sadist tonight and so he considered his idiotic plan a rousing success.

The crowd stood up and mingled among each other. Waiters came bearing wine and champagne. Kingsley strolled over to him and looked him up and down.

“Your suit,” Kingsley said.


“It’s an improvement.”

Daniel laughed coldly.

“Anya made it. Even paid for it.”

“Her way of serving you your own testicles on a platter.”

“Feels like it. I won her, Kingsley. And I lost her. Then I won her again. And I lost her again. I just keep losing. I should go talk to her again. Know any florists still open? I’ll bring her lilies. Two million five hundred and sixty thousand dollars worth of lilies. Think that would work?”

“Pauvre Daniel.” Kingsley clicked his tongue like an obnoxious French hen. “I spent a weekend in Monte Carlo not that long ago. I saw a man who kept losing and losing and losing…but finally he stopped losing. Do you know why he finally stopped losing?”

“No. What?”

“He stopped the playing the game.”

Kingsley patted his cheek condescendingly and strolled off.

“Don’t forget. You’re on the block next,” Kingsley called out over his shoulder while Daniel mentally served Kingsley his own testicles on a platter. He hated to admit the Frenchman might have a point. He hated to admit it…so he wouldn’t admit it. Not out loud anyway.

Intermission ended and the auctioneer took the stage again. The crowd seemed even more excited about the second half of the auction than the first half. Daniel supposed seeing the Underground’s most famous Dominants on display like submissives provided a bit of amusement along with the shock value. Kingsley’s paid Doms cultivated an air of mystery and danger about them. They saw clients at their leisure only. One didn’t summon one of Kingsley’s Doms for any amount of money. One simply signed up on the waiting list and waited to be summoned. And then paid through the nose for the privilege.

Daniel, of course, knew he had no such air of power or mystery. As Dominants went he wasn’t particularly noteworthy, at least in his own mind. Not many in Kingsley’s circle were of the marrying variety. That he’d not only gotten married to a famed submissive but then widowed at such a young age made him an object of curiosity and pity. Two traits that would not likely net much for the King’s Trust in the auction. Not that he cared. He just wanted it over with. He’d already decided to write a check to whomever bought him for the exact amount they’d paid for a night with him. That way he’d keep his promise to Kingsley, the charity would get its money, and no one would lose out. And, most importantly, he wouldn’t have to touch anyone who wasn’t Anya.

The auctioneer introduced him and with a sigh Daniel came forward. Once up there he discovered he could barely see past the blazing candles that decorated the stage. He heard laughter and applause and a woman’s voice with a Russian accent saying, “If anyone bids against me, they’re getting a flogging” and someone reminding her that in this crowd, that wasn’t much of a threat.

Bidding began at ten thousand dollars and quickly went to fifty. Fifty thousand dollars. For him? What madwoman in the crowd would pay fifty thousand dollars for one night with him? Had to be Irina. She had made it very clear she wanted to see him again after their one torrid afternoon together.

At eighty thousand dollars the bidding stalled. Well, that was about ten times as much as he’d expected anyone would bid for him. He should be flattered. Instead he only felt empty, lonely.

“Any other bids?” the auctioneer called out. There was no answer. “Going once…going twice…”

“Two million five hundred and sixty thousand dollarz,” came a voice from the crowd.

Daniel’s ears perked up.


With a z?


And then Daniel heard the most beautiful word he’d every heard in his entire life.


He raced off the stage and found Anya waiting for him under the orange tree.

“Anya? What are you-”

She held up her hand.

“My turn to talk,” she said. “You hurt me more than anyone ever hurt me in my entire life that night.”

Daniel started to speak and she clapped her hand over his mouth.


Daniel nodded.

“But I know now I overreacted. I do that sometimes. You said that you meant to say was that you wanted to take care of me, and you even want to take care of my brothers and sisters.” She shook her head and he saw tears at the corners of those beautiful amber eyes of hers. “I think you are fou…crazy. But I’m fou too because I want all of that and I want it with you. I want…” she paused and took a breath. She blinked and the tears raced down her face. “I want to be yours. I want to belong to you…Sir.”

It took a few seconds for Daniel’s brain to catch up with his heart. And then a second or two more for his mouth to catch up with his brain.

“I want to say something to you, Anya. And I’m going to get it wrong and you’ll have to forgive me.”

She smiled and nodded.

Daniel took a deep breath.

“Je t'aime. Je veux passer ma vie avec toi. Et je suis désolé que mon accent est terrible.”

I love you. I want to spend my life with you. And I know my accent is terrible.

Anya laughed through her tears.

“Yes, your accent is terrible.

Daniel coughed.

“Your accent is terrible…Sir.”

“Much better. Now…you did buy me. Any orders?”

He caressed her cheek and she smiled into his hand.

“Oui. Only one. Make love to me.”

Daniel had never been so happy to follow an order in his life—but he was the Dominant here, even though he knew at this moment and forever, Anya owned him.

He cleared his throat pointedly.

“What was that?”

Anya grinned through her tears.

“Please make love to me…Sir.”

“Better. And yes, right now.”

He grabbed her wrist and dragged her bodily from the rooftop garden. He just needed a room, any room. Any room with a bed. Forget the bed, he’d take a floor, a desk, a wall.

Anya’s pulse raced wildly against his hand as he pulled her down the hall. Sounds of agony and ecstasy, sometimes separate, sometimes mixed, echoed out from behind many of the closed doors.

Only the room at the end of the hall seemed to be free of orgies. Daniel pushed open the door and found a beautiful blonde goddess lounging across the bed in one of Kingsley’s shirts.

“Out,” Daniel ordered.

“But,” the girl protested.

“Out. Now.”

The girl rolled off the bed, grabbed her clothes, and with a look of pure hatred at him and Anya, left them alone.

Daniel slammed the door behind her, locked it, and with more force than necessary, pushed Anya up against the wall.

“You’re not leaving this room a virgin.” Daniel spoke the words before pressing his lips to the side of her neck just under her ear.

“Monsieur’s room?” Anya wrapped her arms around his shoulders and clung to him. He slipped a hand under her dress, hooked her leg around his waist, and gripped her thigh. “He won’t mind?”

“He’ll mind horribly, especially since I kicked his date out. But Kingsley can kiss my ass. Don’t tell him that. He might take it literally.”

Anya started to laugh but he cut off the laugh with a kiss on her lips so hungry it even shocked him. With Maggie, he’d felt like they were simply playing out two beautiful roles in their marriage—he the Dominant, she the submissive. It was a game they played where each of them won. But with Anya, he truly felt she belonged to him, that she’d been born for him to own, to protect, to possess.

As he kissed her, Daniel pressed his hips into hers and was gratified to feel her press back. He needed her as wet and ready for him as possible if he wasn’t going to hurt her more than necessary.

Daniel pulled Anya away from the wall and slid the straps of her dress over her shoulders and down her arms. Shoving the dress down her body, he hooked his thumbs into her white panties and brought them down to the floor. Now Anya stood in front of him naked but for her shoes and the halo of her hair.

“Nice shoes,” Daniel said, as he tried to catch his breath. He needed her excited out of her mind and him as calm as humanly possible.

“They’re Mary Janes. Very comfortable.”

“I’m sure they’ll feel quite comfortable on my back.”

At that Anya blushed just as he wanted her to. He lifted her in his arms and lay her across Kingsley’s massive bed. Kingsley might have had a virgin in his bed before—Daniel would put nothing past that man. But he knew never before had a woman so beautiful graced Kingsley’s sheets. And she was his, all his.

Anya settled against the sheets of Kingsley’s rather infamous big red bed. Custom built just for him, it was larger even than a King-size.

“Kingsley-sized,” Kingsley always said with a meaningful wink.

Daniel pulled off his jacket and tossed it over the back of the chair. Anya rolled up as he started on the buttons of his vest.

“Let me,” she said. “Please, Sir.”

Smiling, Daniel dropped his hands to his sides.

With shaking hands, Anya unbuttoned the vest and pushed it off his shoulders. She let it fall to the floor.

“The floor?’ Daniel raised an eyebrow at her. “This is my favorite suit, you know. It shouldn’t end up on the floor.”

“As I was making it,” she whispered as she started on the buttons of his shirt, “I couldn’t help but imagine it on the floor by the bed, Sir. I wanted to hate you. I did hate you. But I only hated you, because I loved you.”

“If that’s why you hate me, then hate me for the rest of your life.”

Daniel caressed her naked back as she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it out of his suit trousers. But she didn’t stop with his shirt. She opened his pants, slipped her hands inside, and wrapped her fingers around him.

"Bad idea," he whispered in her ear.

Anya started to pull away but he grabbed both her wrists.

"Just because it's a bad idea doesn't mean you're allowed to stop."

Laughing softly, Anya leaned her head against his chest and Daniel wrapped an arm around her as she kept exploring him with her fingers.

“Are you on birth control?” he whispered as he caressed her spine from the nape of her neck to the base and up again. “Or do I need-”

“Please,” she said, looking up at him. “I’ve been on it for three months. And I want nothing between us, Sir.”

“Me neither. Never again.”

Anya nodded, seemingly unable to speak. She looked down again and watched herself touching him. At first her fingers moved tentatively on him but grew bolder with each stroke of her hand and his shuddering breaths that followed. He heard her mumble something.

"Louder and in English, Young Lady," he ordered.

When Anya turned her face up to him, he saw she was blushing.

"I said I can't imagine how we'll fit all of that in me."

Daniel cupped her chin and kissed her lips "Very carefully. Lay down."

Obediently Anya rolled onto her back. Her hands clenched nervously at the red sheets underneath her pale shivering body. Daniel decided to take a page from Eleanor's book of seduction. He lifted Anya's leg by her calf and pressed a kiss right above the strap of her white Mary Jane onto the sensitive skin of her ankle.

With torturous slowness he kissed his way up the inside of her leg, lingering at her knee...then lingering even longer at the inside of her thigh. He sensed her whole body stiffen as he kissed even higher. Gently he bit her hips and the soft skin at the base of her stomach before dipping his head lower, pressing her legs wide, and sucking lightly on her clitoris.

"Sir- " she gasped in shock and he sensed her wanting to scoot away. With an iron grip he clamped both hands on her hips and held her in place.

With his elbows he pried her resisting thighs open even wider. Now he remembered why he'd avoided virgins in the past--the nervousness, the shyness, the fear of the unknown threatening to overshadow the moment's pleasures. But with Anya he felt the privilege of being her first lover, of teaching her, training her. Once she learned how to give herself to him sexually, he’d teach her to submit to him in other ways—submit to pain, to darker pleasures, to every delicious sensation and temptation he could devise for her.

“Stop fighting me,” he said, digging his fingers into her soft skin hard enough he knew she’d have finger shaped bruises on her thighs tomorrow. Good. The sooner she learned the consequences of trying to keep her body from him, the better. “Relax.”

Anya whimpered in the back of her throat and relaxed her legs.

“Better. Now behave. You might actually enjoy this.”

Once again Daniel brought his lips to Anya’s clitoris and gently sucked on it. As he made love to her with his mouth, he brought two fingers to her and slowly started to work them into her.

She stiffened as before but didn’t attempt to close her legs. Good girl. She could be taught. Slowly he pushed into her and nearly groaned aloud as her wet warmth surrounded his fingers.

Carefully he spread his fingers apart inside her hoping to open up her tight passage for him. But she tasted so good, so tart and sweet and womanly, that he almost forgot this act wasn’t the sole reason they’d stolen Kingsley’s room. Through the haze of his own desire Daniel heard Anya starting to enjoy his lips and tongue on her. She whimpered and gasped and once even raised her hips to push herself harder against his mouth.

Daniel took that and the wet heat inside her as a sign that she was as ready as she could be for him. He pulled away and covered her body with his own. Immediately Anya wrapped her legs around his naked back. The heels of her shoes cut into his skin and he inhaled sharply from the pleasure of the slight pain.

He gathered her delicate wrists in one hand and pressed them over her head. The veil of contented submission had fallen across her eyes again. She looked contented, peaceful, almost drowsy with lust. He wanted her just like that when he entered her. A thousand things went through his mind that he wanted to say to her at that moment. But for her own sake he said nothing, merely let her relax into subspace, as he opened her up wide with his fingertips and started to push inside.

Anya’s half-closed eyes flew open wide and she let out a cry of obvious agony. With a groan of frustration Daniel pulled back and away from her.

“Non, Sir. Please.” Anya rolled up and wrapped her arms around her knees looking nervous as a child. “I’m sorry. Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t apologize for being in pain. And a gun to my head wouldn’t stop me now. We’ll go for Plan B here.”

Daniel knelt down and pulled a silver case out from under Kingsley’s bed. The other cases called to him but he knew tonight was no night to introduce Anya to the crop or the flogger. His own body would be the instrument of pain-infliction for her tonight. He snapped open the lid and found exactly what he wanted. Anya had confessed her need to be restrained during sex. But flat on her back underneath him would give her no chance to control the pain of penetration.

Daniel stood up and Anya’s eyes went wide as she saw the handcuffs. He raised his chin, stared down at her, and spun the silver cuffs in his hand—a little trick that always raised Maggie’s heart rate. It seemed to have a similar effect on Anya.

“By the headboard. Go,” he said and Anya crawled to the head of the bed. That body of hers…on her hands and knees crawling. Soon he would teach her the beauty of crawling for him.

Daniel shed the rest of his clothes and crawled across the bed to meet her. He sat with his back to the headboard and gripped Anya by the waist. She laughed a little as he lifted her onto his lap resting her on his thighs.

“Right hand.”

Anya raised her arm and gave her hand to him. He kissed the pulse point on her wrist before slapping the cuffs on her. Before she could even think of protesting he hooked the handcuffs through the metal bar on Kingsley’s headboard, grabbed Anya’s left wrist and cuffed it. Now she sat on his thighs in front of him handcuffed to the bed. He might be imprisoned by her arms at each side of his head but he knew of no prison he’d rather spend his whole life inside.

“Beautiful…the most beautiful Quebecoise in the world,” he said, tracing the outline of her body with his hands. Groaning, Anya’s head fell back as Daniel took her by the waist and raised her nipples to his lips and sucked lightly on them. Once more he pushed two fingers inside her. He opened his fingers wide while with his other hand he guided the tip to her wet entrance.

“I’m so ashamed,” she whispered as she arched her back pushing her breasts into his chest.

“Of what?”

“I’m in love…with a Canadian.”

“It could be worse,” Daniel said as he kissed her chest right over her heart. “I could be half-French, half-American.”

Anya shuddered.

“Please, Sir, don’t even joke about that.”

Daniel laughed but the laugh faded when he felt Anya starting to lower herself. Their eyes locked and he said nothing, did nothing but let her own courage and body weight bring her down onto him.

“Go as slow as you need to. Breathe.”

Nodding she closed her eyes and breathed through her nose in short bursts. She took an inch, stopped to breathe, took another inch, breathed again.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “It hurts much less this way. But it’s still…”

Daniel cupped her face and kissed her lips.

“You’re doing fine, Anya.”

“I want…I want all of you. Please…help me, Sir.”

Sliding his hands down her body, Daniel decided quicker might be better. He wrapped his fingers around her hips and held her steady. Once more he met her scared, wide amber eyes.

“Je t’aime,” he whispered.

“I love you," Anya said.

Daniel pushed her hips down hard as he thrust up into her.

Anya cried out and buried her head in the crook of his neck. Daniel wrapped his arms around her and held her close. For a torturous minute he did nothing but let her whimper and struggle and cry. Being so deep inside her without moving nearly killed him. But her pain muted his desire and allowed him to keep whispering words of comfort and love to her.

He slipped a hand between their bodies and rubbed her clitoris. At first she flinched from obvious pain. But he lightened his touch, caressed her even more gently, and when she whimpered again, he could tell it was from pleasure.

“Try moving,” he said as he increased the pressure on her.

Anya obediently began careful undulations of her hips. Daniel had to swallow a groan of pleasure. He didn’t want her hurting herself by trying to please him.

“Better?” he asked when the movements grew wider and her body seemed to loosen.

“It feels…” she began and stopped. “It feels like you belong in me.”

Daniel’s heart tightened in his chest.

“That’s because I do.”

His fingers moved faster on her clitoris making tight circles to match the circles of her swaying hips. Turning his head, he kissed the inside of her arms that encircled him and nibbled on the soft flesh at the inside of her elbows. He couldn’t resist one hard bite that would leave a bruise on her forearm. Someday soon he’d leave her body streaked with welts and bruises.

Anya gasped and flinched and Daniel felt her inner muscles flutter around him. He kept circling her clitoris, kept holding back his own needs as Anya kept moving her hips on him taking him deeper and deeper into him with every push against him.

“You have my permission to come whenever you can,” Daniel said wanting to start training her to only orgasm when he allowed it. He’d wait a few weeks before bringing the rougher toys out. But discipline began tonight.

Daniel’s left hand ran all over her body while his right hand continued to tease her. When his hand brushed her neck Anya took in a hard breath. He wrapped his fingers around her throat and held her neck lightly. It seemed to be exactly what she needed. Anya pulled hard against the handcuffs as she pumped her hips hard into him. What little restraint Daniel had left disappeared as she released a loud throaty cry. Both hands grabbed her soft bottom with bruising force as he pushed up hard and came inside her.

Together they breathed through the climax, half-panting, half-laughing at their loss of control.

Daniel kissed Anya’s lips, her forehead, her cheek, her neck.

“Good girl,” he whispered. “Did you enjoy that?”

She nodded. “Again?”

Daniel brushed the hair off her forehead.

“I’m thirty-eight. Give me minute. Or ten. I hope that was worth all two point five million dollars you paid for it.”

Anya blushed and giggled as she rested her chin on his shoulder.

“Ask me in ten minutes.”

With a fierce slap, Daniel brought his hand down hard on Anya’s bottom.

“Respect your elders, Young Lady.”

She yelped in pain before dissolving into laughter and collapsing against his chest.

“It was worth every cent of your money, Sir.”

“Better answer.”

Daniel ran his hands up and down her back as Anya nestled into her him, her arms still cuffed to the headboard. Maybe he’d leave her there for a little while longer.

“I want you in my collar. I want to own you,” he said into her hair.

“I want that too, Sir.”

He felt something on his shoulders, something wet. Tears. Anya’s tears.


“But only under one condition,” she said pulling back to face him.

Daniel gripped her chin and gave her a stern look.

“And what is that condition?”

Anya returned the stern stare with one of her one, one fierce enough to rival even The Ouch.

“We burn the designer jeans.”

Two Hours Later

Eleanor mounted the back stairs as she headed toward the guest bedroom where she’d sleep tonight. Kingsley would probably be joining them as Daniel and Anya had apparently commandeered the master suite for their own use. Good for them. Kingsley deserved getting kicked out on his ass sometimes. She and Kingsley fought like siblings outside the bedroom, which led to some rather intense encounters inside it. Especially intense since a certain someone took great pleasure in sharing her with his best friend.

Not that she minded…not one bit.

At the first floor landing she paused when she heard the sound of tears. Downstairs on the main floor she saw Tessa wiping tears off her face as she displayed for a few of the other submissives a black bruise on the back of her thigh.

“Suck it up, Tessa,” Eleanor shouted down at her. “Just a bruise. Stop being such a pussy.”

Tessa opened her mouth to say something back but she closed it just as quickly. Weird. Eleanor could usually count on Tessa to at least stand up for herself, unlike most of the rest of Kingsley’s submissive coterie. Her uncharacteristic silence meant only one thing.


Eleanor stiffened as she sensed a tall, blond, disapproving presence behind her.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Didn’t Kingsley politely ask you to stop abusing the other submissives?”

Another submissive raised the back of her shirt to display a set of welts on her lower back to the commiserating crew below.

“I would stop but I can’t. Because they’re all such wannabees and attention whores.” The last part of the sentence she shouted down to the group of the most spoiled submissives in the entire tri-state area. Almost all of the submissives hated her. She didn’t mind that at all. Boring dumb bitches. Every last one of them needed beaten within an inch of their lives. Maybe then they’d stop acting like a bunch of goddamn cry babies. "If you can't stand the beat, get out of the Underground!"


“Yes, Sir?” She turned to face up to her owner.

He covered her lips with one finger.

“Inside voice.”

“Yes, Sir,” she sighed.

The submissives retreated and Eleanor heard a familiar laugh. Two familiar laughs. Daniel and Anya walked through the hallway hand in hand and toward the front of the townhouse. Anya, she noted, walked a little gingerly. Eleanor could only smile at them.

“Any regrets, Little One?” He asked and Eleanor leaned back against him.

“About Daniel? No. Not at all. I love him, of course. But not like that. I know who I belong to, what I want. And he and Anya are great together. Plus they want the same things—marriage, kids. All that jizz. I mean…jazz.” Leaving Daniel after that week together had been unbelievably hard. But as soon as she returned to her life and to His arms, she knew that she hadn't really been in love with Daniel, just the idea of being with someone who could give himself to her completely. She'd hadn't told her owner how much it hurt that they could only spend one or two nights together a week, if that. But she didn't have to tell him. He'd seen it on her face. And after that week with Daniel, her owner had done everything in his power to give more of his time to her. Sacrificing sleep, risking his calling...all for her.

“They do seem well-suited. A good match. They'll be married in six months. And I’ve no doubt he’ll take all her siblings in.”

Eleanor shook her head at the thought of Daniel trying to tame a houseful of five Quebecois kids by day and his feisty French-Canadian submissive wife by night.

‘They’ll be like a kinky Canadian Sound of Music. You know,” she said turning to face him, “you could have warned me you were going to bid on Anya.”

“And ruin the surprise? Little One, the look on your face was truly priceless.”

“It would have ruined everything if I’d landed on my ass laughing at you, Sir.”

It had nearly killed her holding back her laughter when her owner, the Underground’s most infamous sadist, had bid on sweet little Anya. She'd had to slap a hand over her mouth just to hold it in. For two years from the age of eighteen to twenty, Eleanor had sat at His feet as she learned to submit to him. And in those two years he never once had sex with her. Their first night together, the night she gave him her virginity at age twenty, was the first night her priestly lover had been with a woman in fifteen years. He broke his vow of celibacy with her and her alone. Well, except for that one night, she thought with a smile. He’d only bid on Anya to help Daniel put on a good show for the woman he loved. Not that Daniel or Anya would ever know that.

She’d started to think of Him lately as some kind of dark angel—terrifying as the angels in the Bible were described but ultimately a force of good. But if He was an angel, what did that make Kingsley?

“Mon Dieu…”

Eleanor smiled as Kingsley sauntered down the stairs looking resplendent as ever in his coat, tails, and riding boots. “What a night. The Trust's coffers are full again, and I made far more money than I deserve.”

“That’s every night, King,” Eleanor said, grinning as Anya and Daniel paused in the doorway for a kiss.

Kingsley released a disgusted little French sigh.

“What?” Eleanor demanded. “It’s cute. They’re cute together.”

“Boring,” Kingsley corrected. “That man takes all my best submissives and turns them into wives. He’s banned from my house.”

“I think it’s sweet. He deserves a little happiness.”

Kingsley reached out and cupped the side of her face. Inhaling she closed her eyes as Kingsley traced the outline of her lips with his thumb.

“I deserve a little happiness. Come, ma petite…you can make me very happy tonight.”

“Talk to you know who,” she said, glancing up at her owner who felt like a wall behind her.

“Oh, ma cherie. We have talked.”

Well, so much for her plan to get a little sleep tonight. Anya’s besotted laugh carried up to the landing and they watched as she and Daniel disappeared down the hall.

For a moment the three of them stood in silence. Eleanor gazed at Kingsley out of the corner of her eyes. Though they looked nothing alike, only the man she called her owner rivaled Kingsley for male beauty. Kingsley had black eyes that contrasted with her owner’s grey ones. Rich tan skin contrasted against pale. Long black untamed hair contrasted to perfectly restrained pale blond. But they were quite a team those two. Especially alone with her. The dark angel hovered her left shoulder. Hell’s most charming devil grinned on her right.

Eleanor rolled her eyes. Angel? Devil? Maybe Daniel had been right—maybe she should become a writer. She really needed to start doing something with all these bizarre thoughts in her head. If she did write, it would have to be fiction. No one would ever believe the truth.

Another laugh echoed from the first floor up the landing. Irina, Kingsley’s beautiful Russian Dominatrix, strode down the hall with her fingers tucked tight in the collar of a handsome young man. With a small grunt she thrust the young man hard against the wall and shoved her hand down his pants. He closed his eyes as she whispered a vicious order into his ear.

“Daniel…” Eleanor began and then stopped.

“Yes, Little One?”

She swallowed.

“Daniel said the craziest thing to me. He said he thought I’d make a great Dominatrix. That’s crazy, right?”

Her heart pounded hard against her ribcage as Irina brought her mouth to the male submissive’s lips and kissed him hard and deep. She pulled away, snapped her fingers, and the young man dropped to the floor. Irina took a step back. The young man crawled forward.

“We’ve had this conversation before, Eleanor,” her owner said. “Haven’t we?”

She nodded and inhaled as she tried to push aside once more those traitorous desires that seemed to come from nowhere sometimes and take over her mind and heart.

“Yes, Sir. ‘Don’t get any ideas, Little One,’” she quoted.

“Very good. Now come to bed.”

He kissed the top of her head and started off. Kingsley ran a possessive finger down the side of her face before he followed her owner.

Below in the hall Irina crooked her finger at the young submissive, and he followed her from the room on his hands and knees.

“Oh, Blondie,” Eleanor purred the words, her eyes narrowing with desire at the sight of the man on his knees for Irina. “I’ve got nothing but ideas...”

Eleanor’s heart nearly stopped when she realized she’d spoken those dangerous words aloud.

Turning her head she saw her owner still walking away up the stairs.

She sagged with relief. Thank God, her dark angel hadn’t heard that.

But an infuriatingly French laugh, low and intimate, echoed down the hall, and she knew exactly what that laugh meant.

The devil had heard.

The End…Or Is It?

Want to read more about the Underground's most infamous denizens? Read THE SIREN, now available for preorder.





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