Kaden Quinn has life by the balls and enjoys his side job as a Dom in a downtown Boston BDSM club. What he doesn’t want—or need—is a pseudo-sub trying to shred the veil that protects his painful past.
When untamed Livi Risso's insatiable need to get to the bottom of a story leads her to an exclusive kink club, her curiosity ignites upon meeting a restrained Dom who refuses to touch her.
Kaden feigns disinterest while scening, but that doesn’t stop Livi from experiencing intimacy like she’s never imagined. When one misstep leaves Kaden shaken, will Livi be the one to break down his wall against love?
Be Warned: BDSM, menage scening, multiple partners, flogging, spanking, paddling
“What’s your name, sub?”
“Li … Lisa.”
I narrowed my gaze and stared down at her. “If you say so, Bella.”
“Bella?” Her head tilted to the side, her eyes slightly widened. “Is that a compliment?”
“You’re Italian, aren’t you?”
“Then that’s what I’ll call you.” A light flush spread across her high cheekbones and she bit her lower lip. Goddamn cock sprung to full attention. “First thing you ought to know—and should have learned long before entering this club as a sub—your gaze belongs on your Dom’s boots, your knees on the floor.”
The bulge in my leathers snagged her attention as her head lowered and she hesitated. A shudder rippled down through her, but she sank to her knees with practiced ease, a waft of subtle sweetness, what had to be expensive perfume, floating around me. My mouth watered. Long, glossy dark hair cascaded around her downturned face. Her shoulders remained back and straight.
Trying to ignore the press of my goddamn zipper into my cock—and prickle of unease tingling the back of my neck—I glanced across the room at Devon, one of the few Doms who didn’t mind switching.
He lounged in a chair, drink in hand, but otherwise unoccupied. Bella’s appearance had already drawn his attention. He gawked like a starstruck lover at the goddess kneeling at my feet.
The idea of sharing the tasty morsel of a pseudo-sub twisted my gut, but the thought that touching her skin would definitely cause trouble overrode my Neanderthal side. Whether Chantelle knew the truth or not as to why I lied about not scening alone, I didn’t know, but I expected she’d be on me to find out before long.
As though feeling my stare, Devon lifted his gaze to mine.
I quirked a brow in invitation.
He shot out of his seat with a shit-eating grin and strode across the room. He stood a good half-foot shorter than me, but we both had blue eyes, the same light hair, and square jaw… We’d enjoyed our fair share of women fantasizing about brothers.
“Master Devon, care to join us this evening?”