Total pages in book: 11
Estimated words: 10240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 51(@200wpm)___ 41(@250wpm)___ 34(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 10240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 51(@200wpm)___ 41(@250wpm)___ 34(@300wpm)
After all, I was falling for him, I was weak when I was with him. I craved to submit to him and I know how badly he wanted it. But I wasn’t ready back then. I didn’t know that I ever would be. Almost ten years later, ten years wiser and more established, now I know what I want.
And now I’m standing out in front of Club X. It’s not well known. It’s full of powerful men and rumored to be the hottest BDSM club there is. But it’s secretive for a reason. From outside it almost looks like a mansion. It’s large and intimidating, but aged with beauty. There are details in every aspect of the architecture and landscaping.
It’s a gorgeous building, but I have no idea what it looks like inside. Pictures are forbidden. The only ones I’ve seen are from the emailed invitation I was sent.
And I certainly didn’t focus on the architecture in those pictures.
I almost didn’t open the email. I had no idea who Madam Lynn was and it’s only out of curiosity that I clicked. It was a personal invitation. Somehow she knew what my dark desires were.
My blood heats at the memory. It’s been two weeks since I got the email. Two weeks of warring with myself. But I’m a grown woman. I’m successful and I have everything I’ve wanted out of my professional life. But my love life is non existent and I don’t even know how I’d find a boyfriend.
Nor if I’m interested in one. But I can’t deny my curiosity.
It’s only two on Tuesday, so I’m sure it won’t be packed. I’m surprised they’re even open.
I wanted to see what it was like on my own. I just want a small peek to see if I’m really tempted. I want to know if I can actually do this. The thought of being a submissive is intoxicating; it’s a fantasy. I don’t know if I can go through with it. But I have to try in order to find out.
I ball my hand into a fist and knock against the door. The cold air makes my knuckles hurt at the hard contact. It’s only when I’m pulling my hand away that I see the black cast iron knocker.
I roll my eyes at my stupidity. But before I can dwell on it, the doors open and I sucked in a breath.
A large man, opens the door. I have to crane my neck to look him in the eyes. I am a step lower than him, but still, his broad shoulders and towering height are intimidating. He’s handsome enough, but not really my type. He looks down at me and cocks a brow, “Are you a member?” he asks. “I don’t recognize you,” his eyes travel down my body, “and I’m sure I would had I seen you before.”
“I-” I almost stutter from the nerves, my cheeks heating with a violent blush, but I clear my throat and grab a hold of myself. I shake my head, “not yet.” I’m proud of how firm my voice is, but my heart is trying to climb up my throat and my body is humming with anxiety.
This is my choice. I can always leave if it’s not what I expect.
“Welcome,” he says with a smirk on his face, opening the door wider and allowing a warmth to flow through the door, urging me to enter.
Seductive music lures me inside. I give him a small smile and blush again when I catch him blatantly staring at my ass. My heels click on the stone floored foyer. The ceiling is domed and there’s a large desk to my right, a coat check on my left. Beyond the foyer, the deep red carpet mutes the sound of my heels as I step forward, drawing me to the large open ballroom beyond the lobby. Or is it a dining room? There are tables and what looks like a stage behind a thick velvet curtain. I unconsciously step forward drawn in by the elegance and mystery and, to be frank, disbelief.
It literally takes my breath away.
“Miss?” A woman calls out after me. Her voice breaks me out of my reverie and I turn to face whoever’s calling me.
A gorgeous woman walks towards me with a confidence I can only wish I possess in the boardroom. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a bun and her makeup is flawless and natural with the exception of a slight cat eye and thick long lashes that must be fake. There’s no way those are real.
Although she’s not young, she has a better figure that most and she strides towards me in her Louboutin heels as though she’s owning a runway, the scarlet colored dress clinging to her curves the entire way.
Madam Lynn. She must be the Madam of the club.