tried to ignore it. “So you keep telling me.”
“You are reckless. Immature and impetuous. And in so far over your head it’s a wonder you haven’t drowned yet.” He said those things calmly. As if he was making a grocery list, when she could see that particular intensity in his gaze that indicated otherwise. It was too controlled to be temper, but it lashed at her all the same. “You come into my club, you claim you’re there to play, but you can’t handle even the lightest conversation. That’s breathtakingly foolish.”
“I thought that was what exhibition nights are for.”
“What if it hadn’t been me?” he demanded. “What if it had been some other dominant who hasn’t known you all your life?”
“Then I imagine I’d be coming my brains out right now,” Erika shot back. “Instead of being lectured to death by my older brother’s irritating friend. You don’t know me at all, Dorian. You know Conrad. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’m not the little girl he thinks I am.”
“Then I invite you to stop acting like one.”
His voice was rougher then. Much darker in a way that made her breasts feel full again, with that sharp pinch in each that meant her nipples were already hard.
Why did everything Dorian do get to her like this? When he clearly thought so little of her?
“I don’t know what makes you think you get to tell me what to do.” Erika eyed him, then dug into her story, because she had no intention whatsoever of telling him the truth. Not now. “Everyone knows that Walfreiheit is the best BDSM club in Berlin. Maybe in the world. How was I supposed to know that Conrad’s school friend would be there the night I got in, flinging a whip around, and then up for a spot of bullying?”
“Oh, little girl,” Dorian said with a dark amusement that licked over her, then knotted up inside her. “I haven’t begun to bully you.”
“You’re the one who keeps threatening me with my brother. Do you run back to him and tell him every last thing that you do? Or do you only feel you need to report on me? I’m all grown-up, Dorian, and Conrad lost his right to comment on what I do with my life when he kicked me out of my own family.”
This time he really did roll his eyes. “Your mother seems to have cushioned that blow nicely.”
“And look at that. One more thing that’s entirely my business and not yours. At all.”
“You have no idea what you’re doing,” Dorian told her. In that calm way that made her want to scream, though she didn’t. “Do you? Standing in my home and hurling accusations at me at three in the morning is not a particularly smart way to convince me of your maturity, Erika.”
“I don’t have to convince you of anything, Dorian. You’re not my friend. You’re not my brother. And when I tried to do the BDSM thing like anyone else might have in that club—”
“You safe worded out.”
But his voice changed. It took on that ruthlessly uncompromising quality she remembered from the club. And more, it had an instant effect on her. Her breathing changed. Her chest felt tight.
Suddenly she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from his.
“I was momentarily overwhelmed.” She said it distinctly. Almost loftily, trying to convince herself as well as him. “I didn’t realize that using a safe word meant being dragged out of the club into the street. You should have made that clear.”
“Careful,” he advised her. “Or you might get what you’re asking for. And then what?”
“Then let me be more explicit,” Erika threw at him. She stood straighter, ignoring that pulling sensation in her breasts, her pussy. Her whole body. “I went to that club for a BDSM experience. Not an older-brother’s-best-friend-acting-like-a-dick experience, because I’ve already had that, thanks. So if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to leave, go back and tell them I was spirited away against my will.”
“Really.” There was even more of that amusement then, so dark and dangerous she could feel the edge against her skin like a blade. “And what will you do when you’re there?”
“Whatever I feel like doing.” She smirked at him and knew the moment she did it that it was a mistake. But she committed to it anyway, because she was nothing if not brazen when it was only going to get her in trouble. “You don’t get to decide how I behave, Dorian. You don’t get to decide a damn thing I do.”
“Erika.”
His voice was a crack, like that whip of his. Erika felt her breath go out of her in a rush. All he’d said was her name, but it hit her like a command. Like his hand wrapped against the nape of her neck, guiding her where he wanted her to go.
All she could do was stare back at him, mutely, entirely too aware of her pulse going wild and her breath sawing in and out of her lungs.
“You don’t need to go back to the club to have a BDSM experience,” he told her. “Lucky for you, I’m a BDSM experience all by myself.”
“Lucky me,” she said. Faintly. Because the floor appeared to be tilted beneath her feet and she knew that couldn’t be real. It only felt real. “But maybe I want…a different experience. Far away from you and your threats to involve Conrad.”
His mouth moved into a curve that was in no way a smile.
“Tonight you have two options. Me, or sleep.”
She hoped he couldn’t see the way she quivered deep inside, and stood straighter to hide it. “This is Berlin. There are clubs everywhere. I can—”
“Erika, hear me on this if nothing else. You will not get into any BDSM club in this city. Tonight or ever again. It will take one call.”
Her breath went a little ragged, but she believed him. She’d heard entirely too much about his reputation over the past two years to think he couldn’t do exactly what he said he would.
“Me,” he said again. He angled his head toward the hallway that stretched off behind her. “Or sleep. Choose now.”
She was choosing sleep, obviously. She would meekly shuffle off to a bedroom like the biddable girl she’d never been, count to a hundred or something, then leave. Or maybe she would just leave now, without the charade. Because there was no way she was taking the other option. No way in hell. That little scene in the club had been more than enough—it had been too much, thank you.
But…something deep inside her whispered. But what if…?
After all, she’d spent so long getting here. And she might find this—him—more overwhelming than she’d expected, but there was no denying the fact it turned her on. Just as he did. And he was supposed to be the best. Maybe here in the privacy of his home, he wouldn’t scare her the way he had in that hallway. Even if he did, there wouldn’t be a crowd of witnesses.
And she still couldn’t think of a better way to stick it to her obnoxious older brother.
Blah, blah, blah, that voice inside her commented. What matters is that you’re wet. And very, very
