Afterlife




Unlike Club More’s seedy surroundings, the nearby businesses were respectable establishments. She recognized the name of the steakhouse that Cole liked for his beers and nachos after playing eighteen holes, though he’d never taken her there. She pushed that out of her mind. Tonight wasn’t about any of that. Though it did give her a twinge to realize that he’d been close to a place like this so often, known of her longings, and yet never tried to take her there. Like Club More, she hadn’t known much about Surreal except that it was far more exclusive, an expensive membership or hefty guest fee needed to grace its doors. Still, that hefty guest fee could have been a nice anniversary present or birthday or…

Stop it, Rachel. What’s the matter with you?

Jon’s hand closed on hers again, rubbing her palm, obviously picking up the distress that had appeared in her body language. She made herself relax. This was another once-in-a-lifetime experience. She wasn’t going to lose a minute of it because of old resentments or hurts. Instead, she focused on their destination as they pulled into the parking lot.

Those who chose to park their own vehicles and walk up to the club entrance were mostly couples or groups. While some sported sexy fashions she might see outside any nightclub, she noted some were likely wearing more blatant fetish wear, evidenced by the fact they approached the door in velvet cloaks or light wraps. No blatant BDSM attire outside the club walls. Others were carrying travel bags, suggesting there was a changing area.

“Lucas, Peter and Ben will be here tonight,” Jon said as Max pulled into the lane opposite the main entrance. “I’m looking forward to introducing you.”

He squeezed her thigh, an unspoken message that could mean a variety of things. She wondered if Dana would be there as well, but she simply nodded, trying to hold onto that earlier euphoria with both hands.

As he helped her out of the car and gave Max some instructions, she studied the people passing her in the parking lot. This was a world on whose outskirts she’d stood for a long time, looking in, so she admitted the curiosity was competing with nerves. It was easy to pick out Masters or Mistresses, because those were the ones that, when their direct gazes turned to her, she automatically shifted hers, an instinct that she supposed told them clearly what she was.

The submissives gazed back at her with as much interest, most of it openly friendly, sometimes downright appraising. As if they knew they might come into intimate contact within the walls of the club, suggesting such shared play was part of their relationship with their Master or Mistress. She still wasn’t entirely sure where Jon stood on such boundaries, though he was obviously okay with hints of it to drive her to distraction. But the actuality of it? She wasn’t even sure how she felt about that tonight.

However, when she’d looked up at him from the cushioned sanctuary of his bed, felt him release inside of her, it had formed a bond. Right now, despite her excited nervousness in this wholly new but achingly familiar environment, she felt safe with Jon, able and willing to explore or be curious about anything without fear of misstep. She hoped she could hold onto that feeling, because she really, really wanted to do so.

Gripping her elbow, Jon turned her toward him then, pressing her back against the side of the limo. “I told you not to wear a necklace for a reason tonight. Lift your chin.”

She did, her eyes glued on him as he produced a collar in a midnight blue velvet that matched her dress. She wondered how he’d gotten it so quickly, but she was starting to accept that Jon had amazing resources at his fingertips. Like her earlier chains, the collar had a heart-shaped padlock in the back as a fastener. It also had a dainty silver D-link embedded at the front, with a translucent blue crystal pendant dangling from it. A word etched in silver floated inside the teardrop shape.

Owned.

In feminine brushscript, that one significant word was all lowercase, because of course, capital emphasis wasn’t needed. It was in the eyes of the Master watching her reaction, how she closed her fingers on it, her own form of possessiveness, as he fastened the collar. The strap was over two inches wide, brushing her collar bone and putting pressure on her throat almost up to her chin. The width accentuated the length of her neck and gave her an even more owned feeling than the pendant, though she loved the way it dangled and teased, a patter of reminder through the collar’s thin but stiff material.

“This isn’t your permanent collar. It’s not quite ready yet.” He gave the strap a little tug, his fingers whispering over her hold on the pendant, the flicker in his eyes saying he’d registered the heat that it had created in hers. “But this will tell anyone that you have a Master.”

He slid the wrap off her shoulders then, dropping it back through the open window of the limo. Then he gave her that meticulous, appraising look.

“There’s no way I’d let you in there without that collar,” he said, a growl entering his voice. “I want to make it clear that you’re hands off…unless I give anyone permission to touch you. How would you feel about that, Rachel?”

It was hard to articulate it, with his gaze so very close, but she’d thought about it quite a bit over the past couple days, stimulated by what had happened in his office, with Max, and the way those holographic images had made her feel. As if her body had been recharging all afternoon, it was suddenly revved and ready for this, eager. But her mind felt thick and clumsy over the question. She was better with intuitive, physical responses than answering such a thing, but she knew he wouldn’t let her get out of it.

“I would feel… If it was for your pleasure…it would be okay.”

“No.” He caught her chin, his finger linking into that D-ring. “Tell your Master.”

“If it’s someone…who belongs to you. Not that, exactly. A part of who you are, what you are…like…” She was going to say Max, but her gaze in that direction was enough. “Or the others…you work with.” She remembered Peter and Lucas again, those intimate touches that were so casual. “Touching. I think I find that…exciting. If you’re part of it. And if it’s not…” It seemed way too demanding to say she wasn’t sure she wanted anyone but Jon inside her, between her legs. “If it’s…some stranger, someone you don’t know…or you’re not really there, I don’t think I’d like that as much. But I’d do…whatever you want me to do. If it made you happy.”

“You know what makes me extremely unhappy, Rachel?”

He pushed her back flat against the limo, caging her with his arms. The sudden aggression, his uncompromising tone, demanded her full attention. “You, deciding to do something that truly frightened or hurt you, out of some misguided idea that my happiness is different from your well-being. They are one and the same.”

* * * * *



As her face began to reflect the struggle and misery Jon understood too well, he wanted to curse the past that had done this to her. She was so excited, fresh and beautiful, she had no idea how captivating she was. He refused to let anything mar that tonight. So he touched her chin, her lips, adding gentleness to bring her wary gaze back up to his. “I know what kind of submissive you are, that you would do anything I wanted. That’s what caused things to go in such a wrong direction with your husband. You’re not with him, you’re with me. I will stay attuned to your emotions and needs, Rachel, but part of what I absolutely require as your Master is that you stay honest with me, at all levels. Your pleasure drives mine, do you understand?”

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