Ella grinned evilly as she brought the crop down hard on Holly’s pert ass. The curvy little sub cried out at the blow, but Ella knew by the way that she arched ba c k into her that she was enjoying herself. She glanced at Holly’s Dom, a silent question in her ey es. Holden held up two fingers, a small smirk on his face as he watched Ella dominate his sub. She nodded at him in understanding and laid two more blows across Holly’s s ensitive thighs in quick succession. This time the sub nearly screamed at the intensity. But Ella could tell by her glassy eyes that she had entered subspace, pushed over the edge by the pain.
Holden was at her side, murmur ing in her ear, kissing her throat . Then he bit down on the delicate skin where her neck met her shoulder. At the same time, he t o uched his fingers to her clit, pinching hard. Holly moaned as she came, tugging at the chains that held her suspended as she writhed at the intensity of her orgasm. As she came down off her high, gasping, Ella gently ran her fingernails over the sub’s abused ass, making her shudder pleasurably.
Ella helped Holden release Holly from her bonds, and then he carried her to one of the couches at the corner of the room, holding her tightly to his chest. Ella could tell from the way that he looked at her that he was utterly smitten, and she felt a pang in her chest, longing for that connection with her own man.
But not a Dom, she thought firmly. Certainly not a Dom.
Ella was infamous at Dark Grove Plantation , the opulent BDSM club located just outside of Charleston, for the way that she reduced men – and women , for that matter – to simpering messes. She was good at what she did. Very good. And she relished their submission.
She enjoyed her high-powered job as a lawyer, but it was also high-stress. Men were always underestimating her in the courtroom, and it gave her immense satisfaction to smack them down, to win. And she found great relief from the indignation that she felt at their initial derision by playing kinky games with men who revered her. The disparity between condescending men and worshipful ones seemed to provide the balance she needed to feel like an equal. Not to mention that being a Domme gave her the confidence she needed to be a successful lawyer. She won in the playroom and in the c o urtroom.
But unfortunately, she ha d never found that she was romant ically attracted to any of her subs. Something about ho w they were subordinate to her made her feel uneasy entering into a relationship.
Suppressing a sigh, Ella turned her eyes away from Holden and Holly, heading for the bar. She could use a drink.
Not because I’m upset, she told herself. I’m just thirsty after that workout.
She checked to see if her fri end Gwen was working the bar tonight. The pretty blonde was always nice to her, and she had even let Ella Dom her a few times. Unfortunately, she was nowhere in sight. It would have been nice to have someone to talk to.
She ordered a rum and coke and then stationed herself in a dark corner, trying her best not to look sulky. She should be focusing on the crowd, picking out her next conquest. But she just wasn’t up for it. Instead, she found herself fussing with her short , faux- leather skirt and matching bra; adjusting them gave her an excuse to do something else.
“Hey there, little one.” Ella tried not to jump at the sound of his voice, so sexy with its Southern twang.
Crap. The last person she wanted to talk to right now was Brandon, especially when she was off her game.
She glared up at him. “I’ve told you not to call me that,” she snapped.
“What would you prefer?” He asked, the corners of his mouth curling upward in amusement.
“ ‘ Mistress’ would suit you nicely,” she retorted, lifting her chin to give him an imperious stare.
He laughed softly, his hazel eyes dancing. “I think I’ll stick to
C. J. Cherryh
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