Chapter 3

Cortland smiled when, after a brief hesitation, she followed him into the room. He reached over her head—she was tiny—and pushed the door closed. For a moment they were engulfed in intimate darkness. He could hear her breathing. She was standing close enough he could feel the heat of her body. This whole night had been a bit bizarre, from the announcement about the game to Hachiro's strange plan. Yet the moment he'd seen Sejal those feelings of discomfort and unease were pushing aside, supplanted by one simple yet powerful emotion.

Desire. He wanted her.

Her picture had been included in the file along with her checklist, but the headshot-style photo of an unsmiling woman hadn't done her justice. She was regal, elegant, yet something in her gaze had made him add fragile to that mental description. She was petite and sweetly curved. A purple bra cupped her breasts, and he wanted his hands in place of the fabric. He wanted to feel the heat and weight of her.

Now she was alone with him, in the warm darkness. She wasn't wearing perfume, but smelled good—like mint and that faintly chemical smell of unscented lotion. He listened to her breathing.

First a sharp inhale. She held that breath for too long, then air escaped in a whoosh. Then she sucked in another breath, but this time she let it out sooner, a controlled exhalation.

Cortland reached for the wall, having to pat it a few times before he found the bank of switches. He flipped the first one he touched.

A spotlight popped to life, illuminating an iron-maiden style cage.

Sejal cursed—at least he was fairly certain that was a curse. The tone was right for it to be an invective, but she hadn't spoke English.

She took a step back, and he heard her thunk into the door.

Shit. He was terrifying her. That hadn't been his intention.

Cortland started flipping all the switches. A variety of spotlights clicked on, highlighting a variety of imposing and dangerous looking equipment. The final switch turned on some recessed lights around the edges of the room.

"That's better," he said, turning his attention to Sejal.

She was looking around, assessing. She was no longer backed up against the door, and seemed calm and collected. If he hadn't heard her unsure, unsteady breath he might have assumed she was unaffected. He made a mental note that she was good at hiding her feelings. That same regal bearing he'd first noticed was in evidence again.

Cortland held out his hand, palm up, the end of her leash lying across it.

She looked at it, brows knitting together. "Sir?"

"I want to talk to you. Just talk. If I'm holding this, then we won't be on equal footing for the conversation."

She raised her gaze to his face. Her eyes were a brown so dark they looked black. Only up close could he see the distinction between pupil and iris, and a few flecks of gold in the depths of the chocolate brown. She took the leash from his palm, and then folded it, tucking the placket she'd made into the center of her bra.

"Would you rather I remove the leash?" he asked.

Her shoulders sagged a little. Was that disappointment or relief?

"Yes, please."

Relief then.

He reached out and undid the clasp from the loop at the front of her pink collar. The baby-pink thing didn't seem appropriate for her. She didn't seem like a "pink" person—the purple satin bra and panties set was more fitting.

He reached for the end of the leash, his fingers brushing the soft skin over her breastbone as he tugged it free. He didn't miss the way her inhale as his fingers touched her caused her breasts to rise, swelling against the molded cups of her bra.

He stepped back, needing to put space between them, or he wouldn't be able to stick to his plan and just talk to her. It would be easy, far too easy, to accept that she'd been "given" to him, and just play with her. Use her. Some base, lesser part of him wanted to do that. Wanted to pretend it was acceptable and right for Hachiro to give her to him, and that he could, in turn, accept her, and expect her to submit to him the way she had to her bonded master.

Remembering that she was bonded helped him turned away, assessing the room.

Unlike playrooms in the Constellation Court, there wasn't a bed or a large chaise that could easily be used as a bed. There also wasn't a comfortable seating area. He assessed the options. There was a straight-backed wooden chair, a bi-level spanking bench that could be used as seating in a pinch, and a stack of folded floor mats in the corner. He opted for the folded mats. Instead of unfolding them, he moved them away from the wall, separating them into two stacks.

"It's not the most appealing place to sit, but please, have a seat," he said.

Sejal had been watching him—he could feel her attention on his bare back.

She walked up behind him, then slid past him, gracefully sinking onto one stack and crossing her legs. He took the other stack. He was pretty flexible, but his leathers didn't allow enough stretch for him to match her pose. Instead he kept his feet on the floor, toes of his boots pressed against the front of her stack, knees bent. He leaned forward and stuck out a hand.

"I'm Cortland."

She tipped her head to one side, her gaze sliding from his hand up his arm, over his shoulder, to his face. She was studying him, trying to figure him out. Assessing him.

Finally, she placed her hand in his. "I'm Sejal."

"It's nice to meet you, Sejal."

"And it is nice to meet you, Cortland."

She pulled her hand back, her fingertips stroking his palm.

Once more, Cortland had to remind himself that he couldn't take this situation at face value. He couldn't just take her as his sub for the weekend, work through the checklist items, and then hand her back. He wanted to. He wanted to strip her naked and explore every inch of her. Wanted to crack that outer shell of regal reserve, and see what she looked like when she was aching from arousal and desperate to come. But he wouldn't do that. Shouldn't do that. Not until he made sure she was okay with it.

"You've been given to me, because it's one of the items on the checklist."

At that her gaze lowered, dropping to the floor between them. "Yes, Sir."

"Hey, hey. Hold on. We have to talk about this."

She looked up. "We do?"

"Are you okay with this?"

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Your Dom, who you're bonded with, just gave you away to me. That's...that's a lot." A thought occurred to him. "Unless this is something you usually do?"

"No, Hachiro has never given me away before."

She'd called him by his first name. Interesting. "Then you have to be feeling...um, maybe hurt? Worried?"

"And if I am?"

"I won't touch you," he promised her. "And it can be our secret. I'll tell the overseers we did everything on the list. I'll find us a deck of cards or something and we can just hang out."

"Just hang out," she repeated. It wasn’t quite a question.

Cortland was usually a bit more suave than this, but not much. Usually he used humor to put people at ease and to express himself, but that wouldn’t work here. At Las Palmas he was better—more sure of himself—when he was in "Dom-mode."

"Maybe I'm explaining this wrong."

She leaned forward, laying a hand on his knee. "You're explaining it perfectly. I just...didn't expect this."

Cort shrugged, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. "If you want big bad Dom, I can do that, but I have to have clear consent first. I'm sorry if that ruins the fantasy, but that's how it has to be."

She kept her hand on him, a little spot of added warmth, even through his leathers. "It doesn't ruin the fantasy. I have no fantasy about this."

"On your checklist you indicated willing to try 'given to another Dom.’”

Sejal snatched her hand back. “Willing to try? Being given away.”

He really was terrible at this. Cortland held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "I'm sorry. That's just what it said on the list. This is just temporary. Just for the game."

She'd curled in on herself, but now straightened her spine, chin rising. Regal was a fitting description for her. "I'm simply surprised that I would have put that."

"Do you think someone, uh, changed your list? Altered it?"

She sighed. "No. I was at an…odd place in my life when we joined."

"You joined with Hachiro?"

"Yes. He knew about the lifestyle. About this place. He invited me to come with him because we had similar needs. Two sides of a single coin."

"If you want to change your checklist, if this—,” he gestured between them, “—is a hard no for you, we can deal with it. If you were filling out the checklist today and you wouldn’t answer the same way, then we'll go to the overseers. Tell them. Or if you don't want to do that, my offer to find a deck of cards stands."

Her lips relaxed into a smile. "You're a kind man, Cortland."

"Thank you." He hid the wince. Kind wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement of his sexiness. But his ego wasn't what was important here. He started to rise. "I'll go find Master Leo or Mistress Faith and—”

Again, Sejal put a hand on his leg. "Wait, please."

He settled back onto the stacked mats, ruthlessly controlling the hope and desire that surged within him the second she touched him. His reaction to her was intense. More intense and instantaneous than he'd felt in a long time.

"If you gave me the checklist today I might answer it differently, but I'm glad...I'm glad I answered it the way I did."

"You are?"

"Yes." She uncrossed her legs, planting her feet on the floor between his, and then slid onto her knees in front of him.

She was close enough that when she exhaled slowly he felt her breath on his chest and neck. The sight of her on her knees roused something dark and dangerous within him.

"You asked if I was okay with this, Master Dowell. I haven't answered you, but now I am." Her gaze searched his face, as if she were checking for something. He looked back at her, wondering what she saw.

Sejal bowed her head, her posture perfect and lovely. "Yes, Master Dowell, I accept being given to you. I want to submit to you."