White meant virgin.
Silver meant submissive.
Black meant Dominant.
Beige was reserved for the club employees, so they were easily identifiable.
Beyond the mask signifying a member’s status, it was up to them to clearly communicate their limits with their partners.
I’m sure by now you’ve noticed my mask was silver, and I know what you’re thinking—that I was a hypocrite. Just hours ago, I was railing against the idea of men deciding my life, and now, I was in a club where I willingly gave up control to a man.
But this was different than being assigned some man to “take care of me.” Down here, I got my choice of partner. I chose how far it went and if I wanted it to stop at any given moment without question.
The outside world viewed places like these as a dens of depravity—picturing whips, chains, and leather—where men took advantage of women, using and abusing them without their consent. That couldn’t be further from the truth. It was about vulnerability, trust, and a deeper physical connection.
Do you know what it’s like to have someone anticipate your needs? Who knows your limits better than yourself? All because they can read your body’s cues beyond your brain’s awareness? You just have to give yourself over to it.
Men seemingly held all the power—which was slightly sexist because there were plenty of female Dommes—and women were perceived as their sex slaves. When in reality, women held the ultimate control. Everything stopped instantly if we felt ourselves being pushed beyond the limits of our comfort level and invoked a prearranged safeword—no questions asked.
This place became my escape. When I was down here, I gave my care over to a man, shutting down my brain to the basic function of obeying my partner’s commands. It was liberating, hence the club password of freedom.
Yeah, I knew it was fucked up that I grew up conditioned to take orders and obey. My family circumstances groomed me to need that to get off. Think what you would about me. Everyone had their issues.
Desire catered to a wide range of clientele. Some members kept permanent private rooms while others rented them on a nightly basis. There was no shame in single members coming in to play without a long-term attachment required.
I’d dabbled in almost everything the club had to offer, tried everything. If you were going to experiment, you might as well have found what you liked through trial and error. I’ve had some long-term Doms, always keeping our relationship restricted to within the club walls. Not everyone did that, but it was all about your comfort level. When I began spending more time in Milan, it wasn’t fair to my partner to be gone for long stretches at a time, so I started using the club more for casual play—I enjoyed time with a partner, not looking for commitment, with both parties well aware of the terms.
Tonight, I came down here to forget. Just needing to block out the series of unfortunate events that now defined my life. Once the papers were signed, legally promising me to be Preston’s wife, this part of my life would be over. Consider it one last hurrah.
Ugh. The thought of a life with Preston as my only option for sex had my lady bits drying up. He probably had the same routine, no imagination, with his happy ending being the main objective. How was I expected to live like that? I guess I’d need to up my toy budget—variety would be the key to keeping me satisfied getting in off on my own for however long we wound up married.
Cozying up to the bar, I ordered a vodka tonic and gave my member ID to the bartender. I needed a moment to survey the landscape of the club tonight and see if there was anyone Iwas interested in for play. It might have been after midnight, but it was still early. The club wouldn’t become crowded for a few more hours. My nap earlier was strategic preparation for an all-nighter. Thankfully, I had no engagements scheduled for tomorrow.
Returning with my drink, the bartender placed it before me on the smooth black marble surface, tilting his head toward the opposite end of the massive bar. “Courtesy of the gentleman.”
This wasn’t unusual. It was a Dom’s way of making first contact without seeming too pushy. Sometimes, they were out the cost of a drink if there was no interest, but they could afford it.
Turning to where the bartender indicated, my breath caught at the sight of the commanding figure raising his glass in my direction. Dressed in black from head to toe in a perfectly tailored suit, his lips and hands were the only visible skin—a short dark beard covered his face where his black mask didn’t. The thought of beard burn on my sensitive skin had my thighs clenching as I took in the accompanying look of his dark, messy hair.
He had potential.
His body was turned sideways as he sat on a barstool, showcasing lean, long legs. This man was tall but not overly broad. I didn’t need massive muscles so long as he was fit enough to get the job done without nearly having a heart attack. Willing to at least talk to him to see if we were a good fit for an evening of fun, I lifted my glass in return, silently signaling that he should come and join me.
Let my last night of sexual freedom begin.
Chapter 6
Preston
I felt her presencebefore I saw her. For some reason, my body always had a heightened awareness when Lucy was nearby. I thought maybe my mind was playing tricks on my body because it was fried after a long day. There was no way perfect Lucy would be caught dead in a place like Desire. Hell, her sheltered existence would prevent her from learning such a club even existed.
Lucy was the reason I came here tonight. I was reeling after the events at the palace earlier—this was the only place I was guaranteed to be in control. Needing an outlet, I was more than ready to pour all my energy into playing a random woman’s body like a finely tuned instrument with my hands. This might be the last chance I’d get.
Like I said earlier, if the deal to marry Lucy was finalized, it would be her or no one. Desire would become part of my past.
Perched on a seat at the bar, I was on high alert, looking for the perfect woman to play with tonight. That’s when she walked in.
Even with the silver mask covering half her face, I knew it was Lucy instantly. Having known her most of my life, I’d recognize her body and how it moved anywhere. The tell-tale blue eyes only provided further confirmation.
