Chapter Thirteen
Penny couldn’t help the way her hands shook. She had to get it under control. She was safe here. No one would make fun of her. No one would think twice about her having sex here.
Charlotte wouldn’t even notice. She was too busy swallowing her husband’s incredibly large penis. She had to look away or Damon might get offended.
Desire brought her the bravery she needed. Damon was always in control, but he was offering it to her this time.
“You can’t take your Master’s cock while wearing all those clothes.”
Damn it. Well, she knew she’d have to do it sometime. If she couldn’t do it here, she would have a struggle on the boat. “I need help.”
He grinned at her, and she was happy she hadn’t given him trouble. He seemed relaxed, his cares chased away for the moment. He reached down into his boot and pulled out a knife. “I can help you with that.”
It was such a pretty corset, but it looked like she wouldn’t be getting back into it that evening. Damon had bought her several more for the trip so she wouldn’t need to repair it right away. She loved the fact that he’d selected them and the underthings he allowed her to wear. She would never let him pick out the clothes she wore on a regular basis, but the idea that he picked out her intimate play clothes made her feel warm.
He neatly sliced through the laces of the corset, and Penny could breathe again. The corset fell to the floor.
He sat back in his chair, his legs wide, appearing to all to be the decadent king of his castle. “Now the thong.”
His hands worked to undo the laces of his leathers and his cock sprang free. He gave Taggart a run for his money. Her mouth always watered, no matter how many times she saw it.
Penny shoved the thong off. Sure enough, there were eyes on her. She caught Simon Weston staring, an amused look on his face, but she didn’t think he was laughing at her. He was likely thinking he’d never once thought to see stuffy Penelope Cash standing in the middle of a BDSM club with her knickers off. And she’d never thought to watch him flog someone, so good for them both. She gave him a saucy grin.
Damon frowned at her. “I don’t want to know who you’re looking at, do I?”
He was so cute when he was jealous. “Not at all, Master.”
She climbed on top of his lap, her heart starting to beat hard in her chest. He’d taught her how good this could be, and now she was a bit addicted to sex—well, she was addicted to Damon.
His brows came together in a V despite the fact that his cock was already poking at her. “It’s Weston, isn’t it? He’s looking at you.”
Leaning over, she kissed him where his brows met. “I’m naked. You told me everyone would be looking at me. I think you like it because you know I don’t want to be with anyone else.”
His hands found her hips, moving restlessly against her skin. “Is that right? I thought you were looking for another damn Dom.”
The growl in his tone gave her great hope, but she had to play the game for now. “I’m trying to stay in character, Master.” She reached in between them and gripped his cock. He liked it when she was a bit rough, so she squeezed him before guiding him to her entrance.
“You’re too bloody good at staying in character,” he complained, but his chest was working now, dragging air into his lungs. “Take me inside. Take me now.”
She let herself sink down on his cock, glorying in how full she was when he was inside her. Nothing ever felt as good as that moment when he invaded. The stretch reminded her how much she was taking from him, more than sex, more than some dumb job. He gave her more. He gave her strength.
She balanced on his shoulders, letting gravity do its job. When her so sensitive cheeks met the leather covering his thighs, she sighed. Her whole body was on edge, primed.
One hand moved up to the nape of her neck, sliding along her spine, and suddenly she wasn’t thinking about the fact that she was naked in front of a dungeon full of people. She was only thinking of him. What had Simon said to Chelsea? He’d told her he could make her feel so much more. It was likely what had frightened her, but it didn’t scare Penny. Damon made her feel. Before him the world had seemed gray, and now it exploded with colors so vibrant, it made her blink to look at it. Yes, it was frightening to feel when she’d been numb for so very long. It also meant she could feel pain with such clarity, but she’d never known pure bliss until Damon Knight had made her his.
Freedom. He’d given her freedom. He pulled her down for a kiss, his tongue surging into her mouth. Who would have guessed the most freedom she’d ever found would come from being tied to another human being? She’d spent most of her life serving others. This was the first time she’d felt at peace with her nature.
Without giving up the kiss, she moved her hips up and down, sliding along his erection.
He broke off the kiss, but his lips moved to her chin and neck, lavishing affection there. “Keep it up, love. Don’t you stop no matter what I do.”
That made alarm bells go off in her head. His hand moved between them as she kept moving on his cock. Pure pleasure sparked through her as he toyed with her *, but not enough to send her over the edge.
“That should do it. Normally I would use lube, love, but you’re so bloody wet, I don’t need it. I just need that juicy p-ssy of yours.”
She nearly came out of her skin as he touched her arsehole, pushing in, rimming it gently. “Oh, my god.”
“No, love. Just your Master, and I will have this from you. I’m going to f*ck you right here when you’re ready. You’ll wear a plug to sleep tonight. I’ll have you ready for me in a few days.”
She felt herself clench down.
He slapped at her sensitive skin. “Don’t you keep me out. You let me in. I told you not to stop. Do you need another spanking, love? I can do this all night long or you can ride my cock and take your orgasm.”
He would do it. He would haul her off him and spank her again and begin the process over and over until he got what he wanted. With a low moan, she forced her hips up. As she sank back on his cock, she was forced to take his finger as well.
It didn’t hurt, merely felt foreign. A jangled pressure warred with the pleasure in her p-ssy.
She could handle it. She f*cked him, taking cock and finger, forcing them deeper inside her until she couldn’t stand it a second longer and her muscles tensed and flooded with orgasm. Her arsehole was clenching over and over, now trying to keep him in. Her p-ssy clamped down on his cock, and she was suffused with sensation. She rode the orgasm out, working her hips until he finally joined her.
His pelvis tilted up, and she felt the hot wash of his come as he flooded her. His head fell back and his finger slipped out of her, but he held her with his other hand, caressing her back and bringing her close to him.
She’d just screwed her partner in front of a crowd and she didn’t give a damn. It had been good and right, and anyone who thought differently was just wrong. She let her hands slip around his neck as she rested on him, their breaths mingling.
After a while, he kissed her and gently moved her off him. “Sorry, love. We both need to clean up and then I want to watch the fire play scene with you. They should be setting up now. Do you want a glass of wine? We’re not going to play anymore so you can drink, though don’t think I’m done f*cking you yet.”
She stretched. “Should I get someone to relace the corset?” The idea of getting back into it wasn’t pleasant.
He stared at her. “No. You’re fine the way you are. I could get a leash for your collar if you need something more.”
Sarcastic brute. “I think I’m fine, Damon.”
“Go to the dressing room and clean up. Meet me back here directly. I’ll have some drinks and snacks for us, and we’ll spend the rest of the evening watching.”
She walked into the dressing room, visions of sitting in her Master’s lap while he fed her playing through her head. She headed to the shower and turned it on, hearing a telly playing in the background. There was a salon of sorts in one part of the dressing room where subs met and mingled before going out to the dungeon floor.
She washed off quickly, thinking about how little time she had left. The cruise would only take twelve days, but everything would be over the minute they caught the man they were trying to find. It could all end abruptly. Damon would be on the next private plane to London, and she might find herself alone.
And then she would have to decide what to do with the rest of her life. She only knew one thing. If Damon couldn’t be brave enough to be with her, she wouldn’t lie down and die. She wouldn’t run away. She would smile at him and make him watch as she found her life. She knew what she wanted now. She wanted it all and she prayed she had it with Damon, but if he wouldn’t, she would be in this club, at the job, dating, searching for the right man.
She dried off, trying to shove aside the morbid thoughts. She had to go and meet her Master, and she had to do it without a stitch on. She started toward the exit when she heard sniffling.
Chelsea was sitting in the salon, staring at something on the telly, but it was obvious she wasn’t watching it. She’d showered and changed and looked utterly miserable.
“Do you want me to get Charlotte?” Penny asked quietly.
Chelsea started a bit and turned, then laughed even though there were tears running down her cheeks. She brushed them away. “No, I don’t want to interrupt her evening any more than I already have. I should have safe worded out, but it seemed like a wuss thing to do. I guess calling out for big sis isn’t much better though. Well, it didn’t take long for you to get naked.”
She held the towel up, not wanting to offend her. “Sorry.”
Chelsea waved it off. “Don’t be. It’s fine. It doesn’t bother me. I’m glad Damon’s treating you well, but if that changes, you should know I came up with a plan to make his life a living hell. I wrote an algorithm that will upload orders to every takeout place in a two-mile radius in his name. He’ll be answering the door and explaining himself every thirty minutes for at least twenty-four hours.”
“That’s terrible.” Chelsea seemed to spend most her time planning methods of destruction.
Chelsea shook her head. “No. It’s actually a hobby of mine. I like to code, and manipulating the Internet to ruin lives is just plain fun. I’m fine, Pen. Really. I’m just in subdrop. I’ll be cool.”
Subdrop. It was what some people in the lifestyle called coming out of subspace. Some subs took it harder than others. She’d watched how other Doms handled bringing their subs back to the real world. They cuddled them and talked, making the transition easier on both of them, but Chelsea wouldn’t allow Simon to take care of her.
“Is it always this bad?”
“No.” Chelsea took a long breath. “Not at all. Honestly, I don’t sub out. Not really. I kind of thought it was a myth. I relax, but I don’t just go somewhere else. Naturally Simon is the one who does it for me.”
“Why don’t you give him a chance?” It was obvious she was in love with the man.
Chelsea’s face tightened with obvious pain. “Look at him, Penny. He’s a Greek god and British aristocrat all rolled up in one hot Dom package. He’s actually in line for the damn throne. Oh, there are a whole bunch of people in front of him, but his family is connected in ways I can’t even understand. My father was a criminal. Hell, I’m a criminal according to a whole bunch of intelligence agencies.”
“I don’t think he cares about that.” Though his father was the Duke of Norsley, Simon had never put on airs. He spent more time with his oil baron Texas cousins than with the aristocracy from what Penny had been able to tell.
Chelsea simply shook her head and laughed bitterly. “Do you know what he’s doing on the boat? What his cover is? He’s the dancing instructor. Because the bastard knows how to waltz and tango. I’m not joking. The thought of that man being with me is utterly ridiculous. I can’t even walk straight. For god’s sake, I’m a virgin.”
She was a twenty-seven-year-old virgin? “Chelsea…”
“I know. It’s pathetic. I’m sorry. I blame the stupid subdrop. I didn’t mean to wreck your evening. I had a crappy childhood. I never got to go to junior high dances and cry in the bathroom, so I’m making up for lost time.” She sighed and gestured to the telly. “At least my house didn’t burn down. Someone’s having a worse day than me. Apparently that town house blew up or something.”
Penny glanced up, ready to open a discussion with Chelsea because it was stupid to think she wasn’t good enough for Simon. She was going to give her the lecture of a lifetime, but something caught her eye.
Right there on the screen, a newswoman was speaking into a microphone as she stood outside what looked to be the smoldering remains of a town house. It seemed to have been gutted by the blaze, but the porch was still there. A firefighter walked from the front door in full gear. He stepped out on the stone porch she knew so well. The stone pots had been left behind. Likely Damon had thought they were part of the house, so he hadn’t packed them up when he’d moved her from her mum’s home. Penelope remembered the day her father had brought them home. Two large planters with lion’s head designs on the front. Her mother had laughed, saying they were atrocious, but they’d sat there on either side of the door for twenty years.
Her mother’s house, the house she’d grown up in, was gone.
“Penny?” Chelsea sat up, concern on her face.
“That’s my house.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “He burned my house down.”
Basil Champion meant business, and it seemed she was his next target.
* * * *
Damon stared at the charred wreckage that used to be his sub’s home. Penelope was speaking to the fire brigade investigator, but the man’s boss would be getting a call from Nigel in the next few minutes that would shut everything down. The fire would be declared an accident, insurance would compensate her, and people would forget.
SIS wouldn’t forget. It would go on record, another mark against former agent Basil Champion.
He suspected Penelope was just now realizing what loving him could cost her.
“Bad business, Knight, but I’m glad you’re here.” George Cash had been in town, seen the news, and rushed over. He’d been the first of the family on the scene, but Diana and her husband hadn’t been far behind. Diana and Penelope had cried, hugging each other.
He only had Penelope. If The Garden burned down, she would be the only one there to offer him comfort, and Baz was making it impossible for him to accept it.
This was his way of letting Damon know not to get too close because he could take it all away.
He managed to shake George’s hand. “Yes, we heard about it on the telly and got over here as fast as we could.” It suddenly occurred to him that he had explanations to make. “Don’t worry about photos or mementos. I had them all moved to a storage facility when Penelope moved out.”
Cash’s shoulders squared. “She’s moved in with you?”
“Just while she’s looking for her own place.” He didn’t want to leave her trying to explain their situation after he was gone. “It isn’t permanent.”
“That’s surprising. I actually don’t like any of this. Penny hasn’t dated since her fiancé left, and now she’s moving in with someone we don’t even know. I find it odd that she just introduced you and suddenly it seems as though her whole life’s been upended. She was living here just last week. The place was full of Mum’s stuff. It should have taken a month to move it all on her own.”
“I have connections.” It was the only explanation he was willing to give.
“Yes, I’m sure you do. Again, thanks for bringing her out, but you should know, I’m going to check into you, Knight. She isn’t unprotected, and I won’t let anyone hurt my sister.” He nodded, taking a step back before he turned and joined his family.
Leaving Damon utterly alone. Cash was a good chap, but he had no idea what he was up against. Penelope wasn’t being threatened by a Lothario who would break her heart. Baz would likely cut it out and mail it to Damon.
Ian Taggart strode up. Damon had left him behind to get the club shut down. Weston was still there, watching over it. He wouldn’t put it past Baz to use the destruction of Penelope’s home as a distraction to attack the club.
“Any sign of him?”
Damon shook his head. “None. You should get back. I’d feel better if Weston had backup.”
“He does. He has Charlie. Don’t think my wife won’t take out your f*ckwad for you. She’s been itching to get back in the game. Chelsea’s taken over the CCTVs around The Garden. They’re safe.”
He was glad Tag was optimistic. He couldn’t help but glance back at Penelope. She was leaning on Diana, and the minute George got to her side, she pulled him close, too. He’d studied her before. She’d been more closed off. At least he’d been able to do one good thing for her. As she accepted herself sexually, she was opening up to the people who cared about her. He watched as George seemed confused at first and then hugged her fiercely.
“Is she all right?” Tag asked.
“She just had her childhood home gutted. No. She’s not all right.”
“You know it’s not your fault.”
“I’m the one who brought her into this. I’m the one he wants to punish, and he’ll use her to do it.”
Tag shook his head. “You’re f*cking up, brother. She’s stronger than you think. I hate to give advice.”
“Then don’t.”
“It makes me physically ill, but I’m going to because you asked so nicely.”
“I didn’t ask at all.”
Tag simply ignored him. “Give her a chance. Let her stand by you. She wants to. That woman is crazy about you, and I think you need her. Don’t let Baz f*ck this up.”
As if saying his name had conjured him, Damon’s mobile trilled. Unknown Number. He didn’t need to guess. He flipped it on. “You’ve been busy, Baz.”
Tag frowned. “Tell that f*cker I’m going to kill him.”
A low, nasty chuckle came over the line. “Oh, how I love the Americans. Tell me something, Damon. How is your evening going?”
There was no point in trying to find a way to trace the call. Baz would use a burner, a prepaid non-traceable mobile. The minute this conversation was over, he would toss it in the nearest garbage bin and move on to the next. “What do you want?”
“You can’t handle what I want, can you? So I’ll have to take what I can get. Did you play with her tonight? Did you make her prance around the dungeon, showing off those tits of hers?”
“I’m only going to repeat myself once more and then I’ll hang up. What do you want?”
“Do you think you’re in a position of power here? Do you think you’re superior to me? You’re not, and I proved it tonight.”
“All you proved is you can use a lighter and gasoline. I’m finished here.” He started to pull the phone away.
“I know who you’re looking for on that boat. I know his name. I know what he looks like.”
Damn it. Now he had to talk to the bastard. “I’m listening.”
“We’re on the same side in this, Damon. Neither one of us wants what could potentially happen.”
A few things fell into place. “What exactly does the The Collective have to do with this?”
“His name is Walter Bennett. He was a virologist working for one of the companies I represent. He worked in this very distinguished pharmaceutical company’s level-four lab.”
F*ck. A biosafety level-four lab was for the most virulent of pathogens—the hemorrhagic fevers and small pox would require the over-the-top safety measures found in that type of lab. “So he managed to get a sample past security measures?”
“I’m afraid so, and you know as well as I do that this opens up my employers for rather expensive lawsuits and some nasty press. We would like it back. I’ll trade the list of operatives for the package. Be careful, Damon. It’s a bit like Pandora’s box. You do not want to open it.”
Baz wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t know. “If you know so much, why don’t you take this Bennett man down yourself? Leave SIS out of it. I know you’ve run operations like this before on your own.”
“But it’s so much more fun with you.”
He wouldn’t give him a damn thing. “I need more information.”
“And I’ll get it to you. I’m going to meet you somewhere in Europe. I’ll let you know where and when a couple of minutes before it happens. I don’t want you to have time to plan anything, after all. You should know though that I’ll be watching you and your whore.”
“Leave her out of this, Baz.”
“You brought her into it.”
“And you can let her go. I don’t have to bring her with me. I’ll leave her here and this can be just you and me.”
“It was never just you and me. You always had to bring some slut into it. Do you think I didn’t watch you? I always watched you. I saw exactly how you looked at her. Like she was a sweet lamb and you were the hungry wolf. Did you think she could save you? Did you think she would save your disgusting soul? Does she know some of the things you’ve done?”
Every word burrowed into him, a time bomb waiting to go off. He glanced over and Penelope turned slightly toward him. The minute she caught sight of him, a tremulous smile curled her lips up.
She needed him and she didn’t even know all the people he’d killed. Oh, she’d likely read his mission reports, but they were cleaned up and sanitized to the point that she couldn’t conceive of the blood on his hands. Yes, he’d done it for his country, but there had always been a part of him that enjoyed his work, enjoyed dealing death to the world’s worst criminals. She would be shocked if she really knew him, if she could see past the placid surface to the killer underneath.
He turned away from her. “She was assigned to me. You should know me better than this, Baz. I have no intention of keeping any female long term. I’m not built that way. As soon as the op is over, I won’t work with her again. She’s not field ready, and I don’t think she ever will be.”
“She can’t understand you. I’m the only one who ever understood you.”
Damon’s stomach rolled. Baz was going to play this out to the end, and all Damon could do was go along. “You were my partner and you betrayed me.”
“You betrayed me, Damon. Over and over again. You’re the reason everything went to hell and don’t ever tell yourself differently. If you’d just….it doesn’t matter.”
“It does. Let me dump her. This should be just you and me.” Play to his ego. Play his game. Get Penelope out of it.
“No. She comes with you or everything’s off. Do you understand? If you show up at the meet spot without her, I’ll kill her. You won’t be able to hide her from me. Maybe I’ll play with her a bit. First, I’ll kill that brother of hers. Does he really think that haircut looks good on him? I should take him out now just for crimes against fashion.”
His blood chilled. He looked to Ian. He’s here, Damon mouthed. He let his eyes find Penelope.
Tag nodded shortly and proved how much he’d changed, how much he understood exactly what Damon was feeling. Most agents would have immediately started looking for Baz, but Ian strode to Penelope, taking her hand and speaking quietly to her. Within seconds, Tag had all of the Cash siblings under cover.
“No, you don’t care about her at all.” Baz’s voice was a silky evil over the line.
Where was the blighter? Damon looked around him. He could be anywhere, likely in one of the buildings surrounding them. “Why don’t you come down here and talk to me? This doesn’t have to be bad between us. Taggart is gone. Just you and me. We’ll talk this out.”
A low chuckle filled his ear. “Talk is all you ever wanted to do. Offer me something better, Damon.”
“We’ll go somewhere private.” He would promise the bastard just about anything to get in the same small space with him. He needed to get him somewhere he couldn’t run from. He needed to even the odds. “We’re close to any number of hotels. Meet me at one.”
“If only I thought you were serious, but I’m not a fool. Enjoy your whore tonight. I’ll be thinking of you. I’ve got to get out of here. I had to kill someone to get a good seat to this show. God, I hate the elderly. But then I pretended it was your girl when I was strangling her to death. Good night, Damon.”
The line went dead, and Damon cursed. He looked around but there was no way to know which building Baz was playing his murderous games in. He hated this feeling. Weak. Stupid. Vulnerable.
There was nothing to do except plan for their next meeting when Baz would again have the upper hand.
He strode to the car. There wasn’t anything he could do here either. Penelope’s home was gone, and he had next to nothing to offer her.
“Damon?” She got out of the car and rushed to him, throwing her arms around him.
He pushed her back. “Get in the car.”
“He’s here, isn’t he?” She didn’t fight him, simply got back into the car that Tag had already turned on, ready to get them all away from here.
Damon knew he should get in the front seat, but she moved over and put her hand out, willing him to come to her. There were tears in her eyes.
Now would be the perfect moment to show her how cold he was, to prove he didn’t really give a damn about her. That he had nothing to offer her. He was cold and dead inside.
Except he wasn’t when it came to her. She’d lost her home and he did have something to give her. He got into the backseat, gathering her close. “Go ahead and cry, love. It’s all right now.”
She wept into his shoulder, moving so she was in his lap as if she couldn’t stand to be even that far from him.
His arms tightened, and he realized Baz might be right. She just might be the death of him.