He wasn’t into it tonight and maybe that’s because of the confusing urge to lock McKenna up and keep her for himself that had taken him by surprise just a short while ago.
Possessive? Yes, he appeared to have developed a sudden longing to ensure no other man – or woman – ever took part in the pleasure that only McKenna could bestow upon them. He wanted her all to himself.
And wasn’t that just fucked up crazy?
Tag had always been the dominant partner, yet with McKenna, he had met his match. She was in no way submissive, and in many ways he figured she could give him a run for his money. And it fucking turned him on.
Now that didn’t mean he’d lost every kinky desire he’d ever harbored because truth be told, he wouldn’t have any problem taking her to one of the rooms upstairs, slowly removing every last stitch of clothing she had on and ravishing her while others watched. That’s one kink he doubted he would ever get over.
But sharing her with another person was not going to happen. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.
When she looked up at him, he could damn near taste the lust pulsating through her veins. This turned her on. Was it the voyeuristic aspect? Or did she fantasize about herself inside of one of those rooms living out her deepest, darkest fantasies?
Tag didn’t know the answer to any of the questions that plagued him, but he did know that before he took McKenna to view the upstairs rooms, he wanted to introduce her to Mistress Serena – the woman in charge of The Club. While they waited for her to be finished with her subs, Tag took McKenna back to the bar.
“What would you like?” he asked, realizing he wasn’t quite sure whether she drank anything more than wine.
“Vodka and Seven please,” McKenna told the bartender when she approached.
The music was loud, but not too loud that they couldn’t have a civil conversation, so as they waited, Tag turned to her. “What do you think so far?”
“It’s... interesting.” Her smile had the ability to make his blood boil.
“Just interesting?”
“Do you want my professional opinion, or my personal one?”
“What’s the difference?”
“If I look through my professional lens, I could describe every nuance and detail down to what the women and men in the cages are doing right at this very moment. Or even the group settled on the large round sofa in the center of the room. If I look through my personal lens, I’d tell you that it’s interesting in a fetish club sort of way.”
“So, are you saying this doesn’t turn you on?” he asked, taking the two drinks the bartender sat in front of him and slipping her a twenty dollar bill as a tip. The drinks were free in the club, but the tips were appreciated.
“It absolutely turns me on,” she clarified. “But that doesn’t mean it’s something that appeals to me right now.”
“Do you like being watched?”
That was part of the intrigue of the club, he knew. The voyeuristic aspect – the watching and being watched – was what most people really sought when they came to a place like this. There were the hardcore masochistic types, and before the night was through, he was sure they’d see some things that would damn near blow her mind.
Because it was dark, Tag couldn’t tell whether his question made McKenna blush or not, but he could see from the look in her eyes that she was hesitant in answering him.
“Do you?” he asked again.
“Yes.”
Tag fought the urge to pull her against him right then and there and do to her the things he’d dreamed about since the day he met her. Instead, he kept his distance, leaving the few inches between them as he glanced back at the first room, noticing Mistress Serena was, in fact, coming out of the room.
And walking directly toward them.
Tag saw McKenna’s eyes widen as Mistress Serena approached, holding a stainless steel whipping rod in her hand.
“Mr. Murphy, I see you brought your guest.” Mistress Serena’s sultry voice was surprisingly calmer than he was used to, and he noticed she seemed more fixated on McKenna. Tag wondered whether it was the immensely dominating personalities that both women exhibited.
Did Mistress Serena see McKenna as a threat? The thought intrigued him.
“McKenna Thorne, meet Mistress Serena. She’s in charge of The Club.”
“Nice to meet you,” McKenna replied, not holding her hand out or moving in any way.
Tag watched in amazement as McKenna kept her eyes up and locked with the Domme’s. Most people, it didn’t matter whether it was a man or a woman, seemed to lower their eyes when Mistress Serena scrutinized them.