VelvetTricks,SinfulTreats, page 1
Velvet Tricks, Sinful Treats
VJ & Sierra Summers
Book 2 in the Velvet Scenes series.
Kendra Moore is the “good girl” among her friends. That is, until her best friend’s Hallowe’en birthday fantasy—a night at Velvet Ice—exposes Kendra to a world of sensuality and surrender at the hands of a mysterious man named Master Sin. Can the fantasy stand up to the light of day?
A Romantica® BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Velvet Tricks, Sinful Treats
VJ & Sierra Summers
Kendra Moore glanced around nervously as she and her two best friends made their way to a table in the far corner of the club. The three girls had been planning this night for months, and she was determined not to be the one to back out at this late date. She tugged at the red sequined mask over her eyes and tried to yank the neckline of her red-velvet gown a little higher, but only succeeded in making herself stumble in her four-inch heels.
“Oh hellfire.” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but apparently her mutter had been a little more audible than she’d realized. Celia Jenner, her absolute best friend ever, turned and gave her a concerned look.
“Everything okay, Kennie?”
Kendra shot Celia what she hoped was a dazzling smile. It felt more like a grimace, truth be told, but Ce grinned back and continued her snaking trek through the club.
She must have been crazy to come here, especially on Hallowe’en. Velvet Ice’s reputation was scandalous on a normal night. On this night, when everyone was in costume, the flashing lights and throbbing music made Kendra feel more trepidation than anything she, Celia and Megan Jamieson had ever done.
But today was Celia’s twenty-first birthday, and this was her present.
Kendra fidgeted nervously with her she-devil costume. She wouldn’t have been caught dead in it outside the dark club. The long red gown hugged her curves. Not skintight, but certainly revealing more than she was comfortable with. The low cut emphasized her breasts.
Celia sent her another smile and Kendra made an effort to get into the adventure of the moment. She did feel a little naughty as she straightened the sequined red horns perched in her hair. Kendra shivered as she remembered the stories about Velvet Ice that Ce had shared with the Terrible Trio, as the three girls were called by Celia’s two brothers. Stories about magic coins, secret rooms and pleasure so intense it was painful… The girls had tried to sneak into the club on several occasions, but each time they’d been foiled by the club’s owner, Brady Ryder. The huge, bald, tattooed man usually grunted at Kendra and Megan, nailed Celia with a homicidal glare and called her older brother Dorian to come and retrieve the girls.
Celia had never copped to the fact that she wanted the dark and scary Brady, but Kendra knew her best friend well enough to see the spark that arced between them every time they met. Celia’s eyes were even now scanning the crowd for Brady’s bald head.
The women finally settled on a table on the far side of the dance floor. Small jack-o’-lanterns leered at them from the center of each of the tiny, round tables surrounding them, and spider webs trailed artfully along the tables’ edges. As she perched tensely on the end of her chair, Kendra peered curiously around the club. Gorgeous dancers in exaggerated bondage gear gyrated in oversized cages to a techno version of the “Monster Mash” and the walls were decorated with still more performers of each sex chained dramatically in provocative poses.
“Okay, girls, remember the plan?” Celia asked. Her silky, slutty vampiress costume was cut purposely low—enough of a distraction that Kendra had no doubt Ce could connive her way past the security guards on the second and third floors.
The third floor. Kendra shivered again. If half of what Celia told them about the third floor was true, then they were going to really see something tonight. Velvet Ice’s reputation as the place to see and be seen was surpassed only by its reputation as the area’s most exclusive BDSM and fantasy play club. Of course, while the former reputation was well earned, no one without one of those magic coins could verify the second, and the men and women who did have them weren’t talking.
BDSM. The term terrified and thrilled Kendra at the same time.
Always the academic, she’d made it her mission to study up on the subject. The idea of being tied down, spanked and completely under the sensual power of a man intrigued her, left her shaky and overly warm.
“Yes, Mom,” Megan drawled. The Southern woman was the newest addition to the trio, having moved to Michigan four years earlier for college. She rounded the little group out well. She was the ideas girl, Celia was the “let’s go do it” girl and Kendra was the voice of reason.
The plan was simple—make their way upstairs any way they could. According to Celia it shouldn’t be too difficult for them to make the second floor. The trick was to make it to the third floor, the fantasy floor. The women were hoping that tonight, with everyone in costume and the craziness of the Halloween Ball, they’d finally manage to slip past the tight security and reach their ultimate goal.
“Which set of stairs are you gonna take, sug?” Megan glanced at the spiral staircases on either side of the crowded dance floor as she spoke. Burly men in classic black leather executioner garb guarded the top of each staircase. Celia examined both men and Kendra could have sworn there was a hint of disappointment in her eyes when she realized that neither was big enough, bald enough or scary enough to be the elusive Brady Ryder.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. She wrapped an arm around Kendra. “You sure you’re up for this, Professor?”
Well, hell. She’d played the geek card.
Kendra was definitely the quiet one of their group, but that didn’t mean she was a coward. Much. She gave a brisk, hopefully confident nod, and Celia gave her a quick squeeze before beckoning a passing server. In keeping with the Hallowe’en theme, the costumed servers wandered the edges of the dance floor, scantily clad bodies flashing with glitter and randomly glowing under black lights. The man who responded to Ce’s summons was dressed in nothing but skintight red-leather pants, a tail and horns. He sidled up to Kendra and gave her costume an approving glance.
“It’s too bad I’m working the bar tonight,” he purred in her ear. “I’d much prefer to play with a kindred soul.” Kendra gulped, while Celia and Megan giggled. Quickly taking a phosphorescent orange drink in an ornate crystal shot glass, she tossed the concoction back for courage before answering.
“My heart bleeds,” she murmured in her sexiest Mae West voice. The effect was somewhat ruined when Celia and Megan howled with laughter.
The sexy waiter wagged a scolding finger at her before gliding back out into the crowd.
“Ready, ladies?” Celia asked. Her smile was sly as she stood and pulled the already low neckline of her dress down a little farther, revealing a lot more cleavage.
Kendra stood back and waited. Megan took the stairway to the right, Celia headed to the left. Kendra would try to slip through wherever she could.
Megan was stopped halfway up her set of stairs. Kendra grinned as the blonde bombshell leaned in to the burly guard, obviously trying to sweet-talk her way to the second floor.
Celia had a bit more success, making it easily to the top of her staircase and surreptitiously gesturing at Kendra as she flirted with her guard. Kendra sucked in a calming breath and darted up the stairs. Slipping around Celia and the guard was disappointingly easy, and the second floor dance floor was disappointingly normal at first glance. She nabbed another shot, this one virulent yellow, and gave a silent toast and smile to Celia, who’d popped up on the far side of the dance space. Letting her eyes wander, she suddenly realized this dan
What she’d assumed was the usual drunken dirty dancing was actually sex on the dance floor. Her mouth dropped open when a demon in black leather hoisted a near-naked angel up onto his very exposed erection.
Ripping her eyes away from the madly coupling pair, she found herself peering into a corner where a dainty fairy was on her knees licking the cock of a stocky satyr as he kissed and fondled a buxom milkmaid.
Holy crap! If this was the second floor, what in God’s name was going on upstairs?
Celia caught her attention, gesturing impatiently to the single, narrow set of stairs leading to the fantasy floor. Kendra steeled herself as her friend quickly reached the top. In a beautifully choreographed move, Brady Ryder slipped out of the shadows, blocking the petite beauty’s path.
Kendra sucked in a calming breath as she eased onto the stairs. She kept her head up as though she belonged there and studiously ignored Celia as she leaned in to the giant of a man, laying her hand on his chest.
His eyes flickered in Kendra’s direction, his face as hard as stone, and Kendra wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed that their plan was clearly a bust. Then Celia said something that caught his full attention, and ohmigod, her friend was kissing the serial killer stand-in with enough heat to burn the club to ashes.
Kendra realized she’d stopped to stare, realized that the electricity in that kiss was setting off little fires in her and shook herself awake enough to slip around them and onto the third floor.
To her left was a door marked “private”, to the right was a set of glass double doors. Pushing them open, she hesitantly moved into a large, open area. An elaborate bar occupied one wall, but Kendra knew better than to try for another shot of liquid courage. She knew from her research that reputable fantasy play clubs didn’t serve alcohol to participants. The universal watchwords in the BDSM community were safe, sane and consensual, and it was impossible to guarantee either when liquor began to flow.
Biting at her lower lip to steady her nerves, Kendra let her gaze travel the room. There was a spacious performance area in the center, currently occupied by a naked man chained to a St. Andrew’s cross. A woman clad head to toe in red vinyl stood behind him wielding a long leather whip. With each lash her long blonde ponytail swayed in time to her submissive’s moans. And oh God, he was moaning. From the look of the erection bobbing in front of him, he was moaning with pleasure.
Kendra waited for the shock, the horror that she thought she’d feel at the sight, but it didn’t come. Instead her body began to tingle with every snap of the whip. She absently crossed her arms over her breasts, compressing beaded nipples under lush velvet and scratchy lace. The scene was making her hot, fidgety. And much too curious about what more she might see.
Reluctantly, she stepped away from the scene and moved deeper into the room. Dark music, ominous and heavy, floated through the air, inviting her to sway along on her suicidally high heels. It added to the surreal atmosphere of the Hallowe’en Ball, reflecting the mood of the patrons. Large strobe lights flashed, making the scenes around her appear to move in slow motion.
Three people were on a red velvet couch. A woman was sitting on one man’s lap while she held the leash attached to another man’s neck. The guy with the collar was sitting at the woman’s feet, kissing them lovingly while she devoured the cock of still a third man standing behind the couch.
A woman stood spread-eagled, chained inside a narrow cage while a burly Master directed several subs of both genders to torment her with tiny licks and bites over every inch of her naked body.
Kendra made her way through the room and discovered another set of double glass doors, this set smoked to opaqueness, and walked through them. In here, the lighting was low. No music distracted from the sounds of flesh on flesh, the meaty thwack of a paddle on bare skin, the moans and cries of gratification.
The room was divided neatly in two, with a narrow path down the center. Lining each side were cubicles, some screened, some open to view. Each cubicle housed a couple or group engaged in scenarios Kendra never would have thought to associate with sex.
The equipment was endless, the toys too numerous and exotic for her to even begin to name. Here was serious spanking. There was wax play. Kendra slowed as she watched a Dom bind his sub in an elaborate harness of ropes. Each knot he tied brought a shuddering reaction from his submissive. By the time he reached her legs, it took only a sharp breath against her quivering sex to send her orgasm ripping out in the form of a long scream.
Fascination wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what she felt. Her arousal grew with each scene, with every step she took, until her thighs slipped together with her own honey.
This was sex. Not the tepid encounters she’d had with her high school and college boyfriends. Her partners had been nice enough, the experiences pleasant, but nothing to draw an orgasm from her on a scream of pure ecstasy. Nothing ever like the scenes surrounding her now. No one had ever brought her to tears from the force of her climax.
If she were completely honest, Kendra had to admit that the best orgasms she had were the ones she gave herself. Her sex life was nice, she supposed, but she wanted more than nice.
Kendra drew in a breath and grew dizzy on the pheromones in the air. Any thought of Celia or Megan or their plan was gone. All that was left was the aching desire kindled in her most secret heart. This was what she’d been looking for, though she had never known it. This was what she wanted to experience, needed to experience at least once in her lifetime.
She hadn’t expected her body to react so strongly not only to what she saw, but also to what she heard. The sound of a crop snapping against bare skin followed by a breathless sigh. Hisses and moans, screams and groans. Her senses were on overload and her head was spinning.
Sinclair Martin, Sin to his friends and Master Sin to club members, stood in the shadows and watched the lady in red. He’d been following her since she had followed Celia Jenner up the stairs to the club’s second floor, and had been ready to haul her lush little ass back down to the public space when she made a play to get by the boss, but the sight of Brady Ryder being all but devoured by Dorian Jenner’s baby sister had distracted him for long enough for his little she-devil to scoot through the double doors at the top of the staircase.
Hot on her tail, Sin moved through the room reserved for public play, still determined to send the little interloper packing. Velvet Ice had a reputation for discretion for a reason, and he had no intention of letting one of Celia’s snoopy friends compromise that reputation. But before he could reach her, her lush mouth dropped open and her eyes grew hazy with lust behind her glittery mask. Something about that unselfconscious response grabbed Sin by the cock and wouldn’t let him go.
She might as well have had “innocent” printed across the front of her dress, and the dichotomy of her innocence and the sexual excess surrounding her was a complete turn-on to Sin. He decided to just watch her, a virtual Alice in BDSM Wonderland. His dick throbbed as he kept her in sight, the relatively loose band of the cock ring he habitually wore serving up a constant pressure, keeping him on edge. Yeah, he thought, adjusting his throbbing erection through snug leathers, he’d let her stay as long as all she did was watch.
As the events coordinator for Velvet Ice, he should be working the floor, making sure everything and everyone was having a safe and sane time. Instead he called his second to take over, telling the man he was taking a break. Of course Ry thought he was getting busy with one of the ladies. Sin grunted. He rarely partook of the activities at the club. He preferred his time with a lover to be private, without distractions.
Sin’s sexual appetite was enormous, his Dominant personality intense. His need for absolute control of a female’s body while she was in his possession was undeniable. So he picked his lovers very carefully. Few women really wanted to hand over themselves completely to a man. They liked playing at the game of Dom
The fact that he was drawn to this little troublemaker gave Sin pause. How long had it been since he was balls-deep in a willing woman? He snorted as he counted the months and stopped at six. He didn’t really want to think about how long it had been. He was having too much fun watching the expressions pass over the lovely face of his lady in red.
The deeper she moved into the belly of the third floor, the more expressive her face became. He watched as she licked her dry lips, as she fidgeted with her dress and as she almost fell on her high heels.
Her red dress clung to her womanly curves like a velvet dream. Her ample breasts looked a mere breath away from springing free of their satin-and-lace confinement. Her ass and hips swayed with every step she took. She made his dick ache—the good kind of ache that was only relieved with a hard fuck.
Her mouth was painted red to match her costume, and he closed his eyes as he imagined those plump, soft lips surrounding his cock as he slid deeper with every thrust. She couldn’t be much older than twenty-two, and he’d bet his next paycheck that she hadn’t had many lovers. He gave an involuntary snarl at the thought of another man teaching her the finer points of giving head. Something in his subconscious had marked her as his, and it didn’t like the idea of another male anywhere near his woman.
Sin suddenly had the urge to touch her, to show her how to please him and how he could please her. Her curly brown hair would look so fucking good wound around his grasping fingers. His hips shifted forward as he imagined the vision she would make, kneeling at his feet, her hot little tongue licking over his cock head.
Suddenly, as if she could feel the heat of his gaze, her head snapped up. Wide, startled eyes met his. Ah, fuck. She called to him, a part of him that he hadn’t felt in years. The Master in him wanted to claim her for himself.