Destined by Dragonblood Read online

  Clenching my eyes shut, I fought off the desire to be owned by him—a complete stranger, a creepy as hell stalker who’d been following me for a week. My body dripped with need, rousing a darkness in my mind I didn’t recognize and couldn’t place. Like waking from a deep slumber, a part of me blinked at the light of his image imprinted in my brain.

  Inside, I felt as though I stretched in luxurious glee at finally finding him, but outside, I cowered, tears pricking my eyelids. Relationships were off-limits. Period. The slightest touch beyond Master Vanni’s sent my heart racing and chest compressing—and not the good kind that came along with arousal.

  The elevator dinged, and I forced myself to open my eyes and straighten. Two people followed me into the reception area but turned right as I made my way toward the left. Silence filled the carpeted hallway, and the three glances I tossed over my shoulder revealed it was empty, even though I swore he watched me.

  I eased open the door at the far end of the hall, my heart still pounding, palms sweating. A quick scribble of my name on the receptionist’s guest book and a swipe of my keycard let me into the ladies’ changing rooms, Jenna’s, “Enjoy yourself,” following me over the threshold.

  My pussy ached to be filled for the first time in a decade. Wetness coated my panties as I stripped them off my body, the thong I replaced them with sure to be sopping before I even made it to the lounge area.

  I slipped into the blue silk robes provided by the club and took out the clip holding my hair tight to my head. A few trembling finger combs fluffed the dark waves to the middle of my back. Not interested in attention outside of my master’s, I didn’t bother checking my makeup or even making sure my hair looked good. The only reason I left it down was so that Master Vanni could pull on it.

  Delightful shivers licked down my skin at the thought of allowing him to fuck me with the huge cock he kept inside his black leather pants. Long and thick, his bulge had caught my eye a few times, and I wondered at his desire for me even though he’d never once voiced it.

  Perhaps tonight I’ll ask, my inner side thought, pushing into the main lounge area. My external, however, quaked at the thought.

  Not yet seven, and patrons littered the lounge. The cross on the dais straight ahead already held down a redheaded submissive, her lithe Dom using a flogger to stripe her back.

  More arousal slipped from my body, and I bit back my moan.

  “Ashley.”

  Master Vanni’s low voice hit me hard and low, and I tipped my head down rather than lifting my head higher to look into his arresting eyes. “Good evening, Sir.”

  He touched my elbow—the only man I allowed to do such a thing—sending a jolt of electrical current up my arm as always. “How are you?”

  “Ready.” I spoke my usual word, but never had it been truer.

  His grip on my elbow tightened, and we started toward the private rooms off to the side. Halfway there, a shiver licked down my spine, and I lifted my head. Master Vanni’s dark hair curled at his nape, golden skin covering wide shoulders I’d never once touched even though I’d often been tempted to.

  Trim waist, gorgeous ass encased in black leather, powerful thighs like the one who watched me…

  He still did, I felt sure, but how could he have gotten into the club? It had taken hours of paperwork, background and medical evaluations, along with an interview before my application could even be submitted to the club’s owner—Giovanni DiLoreto, Master Vanni.

  It hadn’t been my bank account but my therapist’s that had gotten me through the members-only door.

  An idea flitted through my brain, and feeling reckless and uncaring for the first time in ten years, I considered it.

  Yes…

  The whisper came from that darkness, the part newly awakened inside me, easily squashing down my usual resistance, and I pulled up short.

  Chapter Three

  Vanni

  The third Friday of the month—my favorite night, the only one I ever looked forward to since first meeting Ashley O’Connor. A slip of a thing with the natural submission that simmered my blood, the perfect petite form with generous curves, the fullest lips I longed to shove my dick between. The trim waist I wanted to grip while sinking balls-deep into her pussy or ass.

  Off-limits.

  The first of many recommended to me for therapy beyond what can be found in a typical shrink’s office, the first patient sent to me I couldn’t get out of my head.

  Ashley had stepped into the lounge, and my blood shot to my dick as it always did in her presence, aching to take every hole of her body. She called to me like a siren to the man floundering about the sea, waiting for death to claim him, for I had no doubt she’d do just that.

  Since meeting her six months earlier, I’d been unable to perform. Countless people felt the strokes of my cane, floggers, and crops, but none made me crave sex as I’d done since puberty first slammed into me with the force of a hurricane.

  Limp dick—unless in Ashley’s presence.

  I could have any woman I wanted. Getting laid came easy and always had, but Ashley? The first to say no, the first to withhold from me what I wanted, and fuck did I want. My desire for her went beyond the need for a casual fuck, the enjoyment of inflicting pain and sending a mind soaring. No, I longed for her with something so damn intense, the thought of anyone but her sickened me.

  As though connected with a living cord, I knew the instant she entered the lounge. I could smell her unique scent above all those mingling inside the club—and hell knew there was enough to make even the most frigid woman wet.

  Groaning inwardly, I touched Ashley’s elbow, pre-cum smearing inside my leathers at the softness of the only skin I was allowed to feel. As I breathed deeply, her soft vanilla scent swarmed my senses, dizzying my brain.

  I was fucking gone on her—and hated the goddamn fact.

  The woman had major issues, and knowing I couldn’t fuck her, couldn’t watch my dick disappear down her throat, couldn’t even come on her skin, stung like a thousand hornets attacking at once. Untouchable in any sexual manner except for delivering pain—and even then, I couldn’t use my bare hands.

  When I’d first read over her limits sheet, I found myself determined to help the poor woman just like all the others Doc Hassett had sent my way. She and I had gone to college together, earning our PhD in psychology. She’d taken to sex therapy, and I’d ended up opening a sex club after realizing I had a knack for helping out those in need of some kink to work out their own kinks.

  I loved my fucking job. It paid even better.

  Ashley, however, made me want to toss everything aside and do nothing but please her. Sucked ass that pain play was all she would allow. I wanted to hear her pant my name. Beg for my cock and cream all over me as her climax sucked my dick dry.

  Fuck.

  I adjusted myself while walking to the private room I always used with Ashley. Tension had seemed to ride her shoulders from the second she’d walked in, and I expected my balls would be aching long before I coaxed a climax from her body.

  She pulled up short, and frowning, I turned, keeping my hold on her elbow light. “Ashley?”

  Lifting her head offered me the most spine-tingling view of purple-blue eyes I’d never seen on anyone. A slew of emotions raced across her expressive face, desire, fear, and excitement heightening my pulse as though I felt the same.

  She licked her lip, and I bit back my groan. “Can we use that?” Her gaze flickered to our left, and I turned my focus on the currently unoccupied spanking bench.

  My brow shot upward. One of her hard limits had been scening in public. Why the sudden change? I turned my focus back on her face. She stared at the bench, the pulse in her neck thrumming, pupils dilating to eat up the lightness of her eyes.

  Turned on as fuck without a lick of pain.

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  She licked her lower lip again and nodded.

  “I don’t have my crop.”


  “You can use your hand.” I barely made out her whisper, but the sudden leap she’d made in easing her limits tightened my balls against my body.

  “You’re sure?” My voice sounded strangled half to death, a forced question from the professional I strove to be.

  Another nod was all the answer I needed. Fuck the truth that I should talk to her about it—find out her reasoning and assure her she made a good choice for her journey toward healing. I wanted my hands on her. Wanted her ass showcasing my palm prints.

  Heat rushed through me as we drew up beside the bench, my nerves about as shot as hers seemed. I wasn’t about to let her second-guess her decision, though. “Give me your robe.”

  Her hands shook as she slipped the knot free and let the silk slide down over her milky shoulders. Breasts high and full, rose nipples already furled tight caught my gaze, and my mouth flooded with drool. They would fit perfectly in my palms, I didn’t doubt, and the cherry-like nubs would be sweet between my lips.

  I let my groan escape into the mix of slapping flesh, moans, and quiet overhead music filling the lounge.

  “Knees here,” I said, patting the leather cushion of the angled spanking bench.

  She rested her knees where I’d indicated without hesitation although her skin pebbled.

  “Lie forward and hold here.”

  Ashley had seen countless patrons getting their asses handed to them while moving through the lounge the previous five times she’d come to me for therapy, but I never allowed myself the hope she’d one day bend over like that for me. Usually, she preferred the cross or being tied down spread-eagle on a bed.

  A major PTSD trigger Doc Hassett had warned me she wished to overcome. While I knew Ashley dealt with trauma she’d experienced years earlier, I honored her privacy and never asked—merely gave her what she needed to get off.

  Restraints rested near her ankles and wrists on the bench, but knowing she’d already taken a huge step in allowing public play, I refrained from holding her in place. Watching her fall apart the first time I tied her down—and unable to wrap her in my arms to provide comfort—had been like a knife to my chest. Having the same happen for everyone to see would kill me.

  The roundness of her ass cheeks faced the lounge, and for the first time since becoming a Dom and having a submissive’s care entrusted to me, jealousy spiked. I didn’t want anyone looking at her body. Eye-fucking her heart-shaped ass with its tight hole hidden by a mere scrap of satin…

  Fuck. I bit back another groan.

  The thin fabric of her thong couldn’t contain her arousal—arousal I usually had to work hard to coax from her body. Once she reached that point, it only took a flick of whatever toy I had in hand to her clit to send her soaring.

  What had happened in the month since we’d last scened? Asking and making sure of her emotional state should have been forefront in my head, but I couldn’t find a single fuck to give. The sight of cream smearing along her thong edges was like gasoline to the fire licking at my blood, and I fought to center myself, to find the self-control I was known for.

  Insides quivering, I leaned down near her ear, grimacing at the leather strangling my dick. “You know your safeword.”

  She turned to rest her cheek on the headrest and met my steady gaze. “Yes, Sir.”

  I wanted to lick the words off her lips, plunge my tongue inside and taste her sweetness. Rounding toward the back of the bench had me wishing to yank off her thong, lick and taste her in ways I’d never be able to, shove my dick so far up her tight pussy she cried out my name.

  Ashley enjoyed pain, so I didn’t hold back when swinging with my right hand, giving her almost six months’ worth of sexual tension.

  A strangled shriek sounded from her lips, but I swatted her other cheek, jolting her forward before she settled from the first.

  Unable to help myself, I smoothed my palm down the first red print quickly rising to coat her pale skin. She didn’t shy away. “Color?” I half-growled the word as a slew of emotions swarmed over me, from wanting to protect her to claim her publicly so all knew she belonged to me.

  “Green, Sir.” Her voice caught. “More.”

  Fuck, yes.

  Twice more, I landed blows, soothing away the sting, loving how her soft skin felt against my palms. My touch lingered longer than usual as I stared at the wetness seeping down her thighs.

  She wiggled her hips, searching for release, and although my body fought to give her what she wanted, I withheld.

  Professional, I reminded myself. She’s a patient, not a goddamn subbie to own.

  A spew of curses rang in my head, and I hauled off to whack her again.

  Ashley whimpered, a sheen of sweat dampening her skin. She trembled against the bench, and I leaned in close, allowing my straining dick to brush against her thigh. “Tell me what you need, Ashley.”

  “I—I…” She swallowed and moaned, pressing against my dick.

  I saw goddamn stars. “Fuck.”

  Shivers wracked her body, pebbling her skin at my muttered curse. “Yes. Please, yes.”

  Goddamn it all to fucking hell. I slid my hand down between her cheeks, breathing heavy against her ear. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

  Her sopping thong met my brushing fingertips, and she leaned into my touch rather than jerk away like she surely would have done the month prior.

  No safeword.

  I slipped my fingertip beneath the edge of her panties. Waxed and smooth—and covered in slippery arousal. My blood fucking boiled as the darkness I kept a tight hold on inside of me welled up with a roar.

  My dick jerked in my leathers, and I clenched my jaw as I slid my fingertip up through her folds. Her pussy quivered beneath my rimming.

  “Tell me what you want, Ashley,” I growled in her ear, hardly recognizing my own voice, my entire body tensed and trembling like hers.

  She panted. Swallowed. Tried to lick the dryness from her lips.

  “This?” I asked, pressing lightly enough to slide into her tight sheath to my first knuckle.

  A whine slipped from her mouth, easing more pre-cum from my dick.

  “This?” I withdrew and slid my finger up over her puckered hole.

  “Oh, God.” Her breath caught as I rimmed her, smearing enough juices I could have fucked her ass without a single drop of extra lube.

  “Fuck, Ash.” I grabbed a handful of her wavy hair and tugged, lifting her head off the rest while cupping her entire sex.

  Eyes still clenched shut, she arched her back like a sensual cat needing to be fucked until she screamed. “P-Please, Sir.”

  “Please what?” I needed to hear her say it. Needed it like my starved lungs needed oxygen.

  “I need to come.”

  I rubbed my middle finger over her hard clit, back and forth, my balls ready to fucking explode.

  “M-more…”

  Fuck it. I pressed my thumb into her tight pussy, and she gasped, lifting her hips toward me. “Is this what you need, baby?” I stroked twice, and she moaned deeply, her pussy fluttering around my thumb.

  “Yes. Oh, fuck, yes.”

  I slid my middle finger along her clit while fucking into her with my thumb, once … twice … slow enough to drive us both fucking insane.

  “You have my permission to come.” I said the words she always needed to let go, and Ashley bowed, shrieking her release, a rush of cum soaking my thumb and dripping to the floor between her thighs.

  I continued to work her, coaxing every last pulse in her pussy until she lay spent, hair plastered to her damp forehead, eyes clenched shut, fucking gorgeous mouth parted as she panted for breath.

  “So beautiful.” I removed my hand from her pussy and licked her sweet cream from my fingers. My eyes rolled back into my head as her scent, her taste swarmed my senses. Like an inner beast awoke inside me, my chest rumbled with a suppressed roar. I ached to shove into her tight wetness, stroke myself against her cum-slickened walls. Shoot thick ropes of cum against he
r womb—claiming her. My female.

  Every nerve ending on fire, I stared at her parted lips. How far would she go? Had I pushed her beyond the desire for more? Could I bring back her need enough she would allow me to at least blow my load all over her back?

  I reached out my hand to caress the prints on her ass—and, I hoped, arouse her again to a state of begging for my cock.

  Chapter Four

  Dolyn

  Cloaking myself and following Ashley into the nondescript door at the end of the hallway came easy. Slipping through what appeared to a main entrance rather than a locker room of sorts she had entered proved a bit more difficult as a receptionist’s desk and bouncer flanked the double doors.

  I glanced around the reception area, fully present, yet visually, nothing more than a bend of light to the two in the room with me. Gray walls. Glass desk. Abstract art on the walls and two other doors besides the one Ashley had disappeared through—boring and not giving me a hint of what lay beyond.

  I eyed one of the chairs along the wall to my left and considered waiting until Ashley returned.

  The double doors opened, however, releasing a flood of sensual delights mere humans wouldn’t catch. Heat, aroused murmuring, and sex. My dragon hummed his delight, but I frowned and raced forward, slipping through the opened door as the patron of whatever the place was bade the receptionist a good evening.

  A holding room with another set of double doors that couldn’t muffle or contain the patrons’ arousal. Still nothing more than a flicker in a person’s peripheral vision, I pushed one of the doors open enough to slip through.

  I stepped over a threshold leading to a sinner’s delight. Musk, sweetness, and the scent of anxious perspiration swept over me. Humans … dozens of them in all sorts of dress and lack thereof mingled in the huge lounge area. Dim lights. Low music. Leather seating and a bar lay on my left, a dais beyond held a St. Andrew’s Cross with a woman moaning beneath a Dom’s ministrations.

  Chains clanked from a man strung to the ceiling directly on my right. Groans rose from two men getting their cocks sucked by kneeling submissives as they lounged by the bar on my left.