Dungeon Royale (Masters and Mercenaries) (30 page)

She’d read everything she could on Bennett, had tried to memorize his face, but he could have undergone plastic surgery. She looked over the crowd, wondering which of these men were waiting to take Bennett’s place.

Damon’s hand traced her curves and ran back up to her breasts that seemed barely encased in a too-tight corset. His words whispered against her ear. “I discovered that Tiffani Hall enjoys large anal plugs and apparently likes very much to play the pony to her Master’s rider. There was absolutely nothing there past sex toys and an inordinate amount of cherry flavored lube. I stole a tube. She won’t miss it. Do you like cherry? God knows I do. You still have one, you know. I’m going to take that cherry. You’re almost ready for me.”

His hand ran down to her backside, cupping her cheek and reminding her that he’d been prepping her for that bit of play. Anal sex. He seemed a bit obsessed with it.

“That sounds like fun, Master. Can you be serious for a minute?”

“I am serious. I’m seriously thinking about fucking your tight arse. I’m trying not to be serious about the rest of it because it’s likely to end in violent death. Both of ours, most probably. So I would like to spend my last days with my cock in your arse.”

He was making her insane. He’d taken the tactic of shutting her out of the professional part of their relationship. She’d returned from a class he’d sent her to only to discover the entire crew had gotten together to discuss logistics without her. When she’d confronted him about it, he’d just kissed her and tossed her on the bed and explained that it had been “organic,” and then she hadn’t been able to think about anything but the way he was devouring her pussy.

“Damon, please, you can’t shut me out of this.”

“I’m not shutting you out.” He licked the shell of her ear. “This is your job, love. You’re here to give me cover. That’s all. We could break up, you know. You could stomp off and throw that collar you’re wearing in my face and everyone would believe it. The way you frown at me all the time has given me a bad reputation. Charlotte heard someone talking about the sweet-faced sub and her mean Master. I’m the mean Master.”

“I’m not taking off my collar, Damon.”

“Then you have to put up with this.” He gripped her hips, rubbing his erection against her bum.

Yes, she’d rapidly learned that being Master Damon’s submissive meant taking Master Damon’s cock at least three times a day. The man was utterly insatiable, and he didn’t seem to care that they might not be alone when he got it in his head to have her. On the long drive from London to Dover, he’d hiked up her skirt and screwed her in the backseat while the Taggarts argued about whether or not they should bring someone named Phoebe back a Harry Potter souvenir.

“Who are our targets?” There was no point in arguing with him. At least he’d shoved aside the arctic treatment she’d gotten before. She preferred perpetually horny, pessimistic Damon to the cold, distant Dom.

“I told you. I’m targeting that pretty hole of yours.”

“Damon, please.”

He smacked her left cheek hard, his brows furrowing. “What did you say?”

There were certain things he insisted on. He would let her get away with a lot, but he had his own protocol. “Master.”

“Better.” He sighed and drew her back into his arms. “You’re turning into a workaholic.”

“How can I since you never let me work?”

“Fine.” He swept her hair aside and went back to nibbling on her ear. “Do you see the girl in the black corset?”

“Seriously?” That described almost everyone.

“The one with dark hair and the blue stiletto boots that she can’t bloody well walk in.”

Ah, yes. She’d noted the woman as well. She seemed a bit out of place. “The reporter, right?”

“Yes.” He let his hands delve into her corset, pulling on her breasts so he could play with her nipples. “The Dom is her boyfriend. He hasn’t got a clue. If that bastard’s ever wielded a flogger, I’ll eat my own shorts.”

“You don’t wear shorts.”

He chuckled a little. “That’s because I want to be able to fuck you at any given moment, love.” He sighed. “Fine. You seemed determined to take something fun and make it into a drudgery.”

How had he ever gotten his double
0
status? “We do have a job to do. What’s the Dom’s name again?”

“Robert Tilman. Chelsea can’t find a connection with anyone in The Collective or Nature’s Core for him. As far as we can tell, they’ve been living together for over a year. They fight a lot if their e-mail and text conversations are any indication. They’ve only just joined a club in London. The Cave. It’s a touristy piece of shite. I wouldn’t even call it a starter club.”

She stared at Robert for a moment and had to admit, Damon was right. He looked uncomfortable. Most of the couples around them seemed deeply at ease with their roles, while Robert and his sub kept switching positions and trying to find where they should be. The reporter, whose name was Candice Jones, kept tugging at her knickers, which were oddly conservative given that many of the subs were naked.

As she stood and watched with Damon, Candice reached up and tugged on her Dom’s hand, pulling him down and frowning his way.

If she did that to Damon in a dungeon, he would put her over his knee before she could take another breath, but Robert just shook his head at whatever she was saying. She’d seen the expression on Robert’s face a million times. It was the same slightly constipated look that her sister’s husband had when he was trying to please her and couldn’t figure out how.

It was not an expression she would expect to see on a Dom.

“They’re pretending.”

“Very good, love.” His fingers twisted her nipples to that sweet spot just before pain, the exact amount of pressure it took to get her pussy nice and wet, and her blood flowing through her veins with a pulsing rhythm. She was rapidly becoming addicted to Damon’s brand of dominance. It was a sweet combination of discipline and indulgence.

What would she do if he followed through with his threats to give her up at the end of their operation? She’d become suspicious that his constant desire had something to do with having her as many times as he could before he let her go.

Or died. Her Master wasn’t a “glass is half full” sort of man.

“Why are they here if they aren’t a real D/s couple?” She felt like she could safely ask the question since she’d been in an actual D/s relationship for a week. It hadn’t been long, but it had been immersive. She really was Damon Knight’s submissive. She’d surrendered utterly to him.

“That’s a very good question. I think we should find out. Unless you would rather play. There’s an empty spanking bench.”

She knew exactly what he would do. He would spank her senseless, fuck her until she couldn’t breathe, and carry her upstairs and tuck her in. Then he would put a guard on her door and come right back here and do the damn job himself. “Tempting, but I think we should figure out if they’re our targets. We dock in Helsinki tomorrow. The switch could happen at any port.”

He growled against her skin, giving her a good nip that let her know how frustrated he was. “All right then. I’m going to go talk to Tag. You stay here. Simon is at the stairs, Jake is at the lifts, and I’ll be right over there.” He kissed her cheek and stepped away, moving toward where the Taggarts stood watching a whipping scene play out.

She hugged the wall, though she didn’t really have to. No one bothered her. Her collar protected her from unwanted attention. She reached up and touched the silver chain Damon had placed around her neck. He’d clasped it around her, not allowing her to touch it until he was satisfied with the way it laid. There was a small heart with a diamond in the center that touched the hollow of her neck. She wanted to keep that damn chain around her neck forever, but might only have these few days with him before he went back to being the cold, shut-down agent he’d been before.

Although she held his fate in her hands, and he didn’t even know it. She could save him from himself by telling Nigel he wasn’t fit for duty. Not physically or mentally. He was too emotional. That would be a bitter irony for him. The one time he got emotional, the object of his feelings betrayed him.

She couldn’t do it. No matter what it cost her, she couldn’t hurt him like that. He’d never recover.

She stared at the couple in front of her, keeping them in her sights, forcing herself to focus on the problem at hand. Candice was a pretty woman, probably in her mid-twenties. Robert looked to be roughly the same age.

They were watching a scene with a Domme and her male submissive. The Domme had her sub tied to a St. Andrew’s Cross, his naked body on display. She was whipping him with a singletail and now she tugged at his balls, squeezing them until he squawked before she went back to flicking the whip in her hands.

Candice’s eyes widened and then she turned away. Her boyfriend went green. Penny had to stifle a laugh. A few weeks before perhaps she would be the one turning green, but she stood there feeling not an ounce of concern for the sub. Yes, he cried out, but she could read him. He actually relaxed as his Domme handled him. He liked the pain. She understood him. The Domme tenderly kissed him between snaps of the whip, likely telling him how good he was, how proud she was of him. Despite his occasional grimaces, the sub practically glowed with pride.

It was so blatantly obvious that neither of her two targets understood. Robert stepped back away from the crowd. He had to put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. She was shaking her head, her hand over her mouth.

The two stepped back to the wall, and Robert set down the leather bag he was carrying. Like most of the other Doms in the dungeon, he carried his own kit. Unlike other Doms, he hadn’t checked it at the entrance until he needed it. He’d spent the whole night clutching it. He let it drop as he found a place against the wall. He slumped into the seat, but his sub frowned at him and he immediately surrendered the seat to her.

It was time to listen in.

She glanced over and Damon was deep in conversation with Ian Taggart. Charlotte stepped away from them at her husband’s nod and began walking toward Penny. So she had a babysitter.

Although it was a bit like asking the fox to watch the hen house.

The minute Charlotte joined her, she glanced over at the targets. “What’s up with that?”

“I think they’re tourists.”

Charlotte grinned. “I love hearing you spout lingo.”

Penny sighed. “I’m not a tourist anymore. I passed tourist when Damon used that slappy thing on me.”

Charlotte laughed. “I’m so sorry about that. Ian made the thing. I like to call it the Fucking Bastard, but not around him because then he uses it on me. It’s a repurposed fire hose. He’s obsessed with pervertables. I don’t let him go to home improvement stores anymore. I sent him for a new light switch, and he came back with fifteen things to torture me with. So, the tourists aren’t liking the dungeon much, huh? I’ve been watching them all day. They’re really out of place. And what the hell is in that kit that he won’t let it out of his sight? He had it with him at dinner. And the pool.”

She and Charlotte looked at each other, understanding obviously dawning. “We need to get into that kit.”

“Okay.” Charlotte’s eyes trailed over to the men, but they’d stepped away, conferring in a quiet section of the bar. “I really should go and talk to them.”

Yes, it was what they should do, but unfortunately, their targets were about to be on the move. Candice stood up, a distressed look on her face as she pulled at her corset. She had another couple of words with her boyfriend and stalked off toward the bathroom. “If we wait too long, we’re going to lose them. It would be easier to get the kit here. Everyone’s watching scenes, not each other. And I don’t know that those two will be back in the dungeon for the rest of the trip.”

“Damn it. We’re both going to be spanked, you know. Okay, we’re going to have to run a distract and dash, and I think it has to be you. The distraction that is,” Charlotte explained. “I think I scare him. I know Ian does. We tried to talk to them earlier by the pool and that dude practically ran away.”

Penny’s stomach dropped. She wasn’t good at flirting. “You want me to talk to him?”

Charlotte nodded. “Yep. Just bat your eyes and ask him a couple of questions. Like you don’t know anything. I’ll get that kit and then go straight to our rooms. When I’m free and clear, you get the boys and meet me. Maybe it’s nothing and then I’ll find a way to get it back to him, but I’m suspicious.”

Penny was, too. She glanced back to where Damon was talking to Ian. Neither man was looking her way. If she stepped away to talk to him, she and Charlotte would likely lose the chance.

And no matter what he said, this was her operation, too. “All right. Go and get in place. We might not have much time before she comes back.”

Charlotte winked her way. “Not a problem. Just give him a sweet face. He’s been flirting with anything with breasts all day when his girlfriend isn’t looking.”

Charlotte strode away, having not a bit of trouble with her five-inch heels. She was a bombshell of a woman, but Penelope had learned that bombshells didn’t work for every man. Sometimes a round pixie with a nice big bum was called for, and that was when she went to work.

She sent another slightly nervous glance her Dom’s way before she slipped her collar off. She needed to seem available. Hopefully Charlotte would work quickly and she could get it back on before Damon even noticed she’d stepped away. He might forgive her for working without him, but she doubted he would forgive taking off her collar.

Shoving the silver necklace into her bodice, she drew a deep breath before walking toward the target. Oddly, it wasn’t as hard as she would have thought. She’d never seen herself as a femme fatale until Damon had shown her she could be sexy.

He stood in the back of the room, his kit in his hand. Every now and then he glanced toward the bathroom before watching the scene in front of him. He’d moved from the Domme and her sub to a Dom who was plugging his petite sub with what looked like an elephant penis.