Chapter Two

Violet

The entertainment area at L.A. Club Decadent Skies…

“Spitfire, am I right?”

Violet started as Dexter used her sub-club name when he turned to her. Without looking at him, the force of his direct gaze on her was more than a warning. It shouted from the roof, “Look at me, sub… or else…”

“How did you know my name?” she blabbered, frowning as she immediately became annoyed at how submissive she sounded. That wasn’t part of the plan. In no version of every scenario she had played over in her mind during the past three weeks had she once given in to her inner sub that quickly.

Not her, the oldest daughter of George Russo, the mighty Don of the Los Angeles Crime Family, aka the Gragna Mafia.

As the only daughter among four brothers, her father hadn’t protested when she made it known once she finished school that she had no interest or intention of ever becoming part of the ‘family business.’ She had moved out of the family home, obtained her law degree, opened her own legal firm, and created a life completely separate from her crime family.

Until her mother reached out to her for help a month ago.

No matter how resolute she had been to never be pulled into their illegal activities, they were her family, and her father had made it very clear that blood was thicker than water. His words, which had driven her to give in and help them, echoed in her mind.

“Your brothers and I need your help, my little princess. Your mother and I need your help. Believe it or not, in this… we are innocent. Someone is setting us up, and we need to find out who before we all rot in jail.”

“It’s my club, little one.” Dexter’s gruff voice jarred her back to the present. “Since I approved every application for the opening night, I can identify every person on board.”

His words washed over her, but it was his actions that sent Violet’s world spinning.

“What are you…” She stiffened involuntarily as Dexter reached out to trace her jawline. Her personal space was always a sacred sanctuary that she fiercely guarded, which he now brazenly invaded. Everyone who knew Violet understood her need for this invisible boundary, yet here was this man, casually disregarding it as if it were nothing more than a gossamer veil.

“Easy, little dove,” he cooed. His touch against her chin was electric and sent shockwaves through her system. His fingers were gentle and left a trail of fire in their wake.

“Oh!” Violet’s breath hitched as her body betrayed her with a surge of unexpected arousal. Every nerve ending sparked to life as she became hyper-aware of his proximity and the warmth radiating from his body. Even the subtle scent of his cologne played havoc with her mind.

Her senses were overwhelmed by his presence as he leaned in closer. Contrary to how she reacted to similar instances, this time, the deliberate invasion of her space was thrilling. His voice dropped to a low, intimate timbre that seemed to resonate through her very bones.

“Besides, even though the photo on your application didn’t do you justice, your beauty isn’t something a man like me forgets.”

Violet fought against the conflicting desires to lean into his touch and to flee from the intensity of the moment. With great effort, she managed to find her voice, though it came out more husky than she intended.

“So, you’re all about looks, then.”

Finally scraping together the courage, Violet turned to meet his gaze. The impact was immediate and staggering. His silvery eyes, like liquid mercury, pierced straight through her carefully constructed defenses. They held a depth that threatened to pull her in, to drown her in their stormy intensity. Within them, she saw a dangerous cocktail of intelligence, desire, and a hint of challenge that unnerved her.

The power of his gaze left her momentarily breathless as her mind scrambled to reassemble her thoughts. It was as if those eyes could see right through her, past her facade, and straight to the core of her being. Violet felt exposed, vulnerable, and inexplicably drawn to him all at once. The rational part of her mind screamed warnings as a reminder of her mission, but a traitorous voice whispered of the thrill of surrendering to this magnetic force before her.

“What are you—oh!” she cried as, without warning, Dexter’s lips descended on her neck. They settled in a hard, searing kiss directly over her carotid vein. The intimate contact sent shockwaves through her entire being as his hot lips ignited a firestorm of sensation that threatened to consume her.

The precise placement of the kiss was not lost on Violet. He had chosen the spot where her pulse hammered wildly, betraying the tumultuous emotions coursing through her veins. His lips branded her and marked her with an invisible sigil of desire and possession.

“You have to… hmm,” she moaned as he lingered there. The world around her faded away as the protest she was about to utter became forgotten. The club, the music, the other patrons—all of them receded into a hazy background and left her with only the acute awareness of his mouth on her skin. Her breath caught as she fought the urge to tilt her head and grant him better access.

The kiss was brief, yet it felt like an eternity. When Dexter pulled away, Violet reeled with her skin tingling where his lips had been—a phantom pressure, as the ghost of his touch was reminiscent of a secret promise.

“Hmm… so refreshing.” His low chuckle broke through the fog of her senses in a knowing sound that confirmed he was acutely aware of the desire running rampant inside her. The laugh was rich with masculine satisfaction and sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her body. It was a sound that spoke volumes—he didn’t just know exactly what effect he had on her; he was reveling in it.

“No, little Spitfire. Your beauty is an added wondrous gift. What draws me to you is your submissive, who has been silently begging me to claim you from the moment you stepped foot inside the club.”

Violet struggled to appear poised as she fought against the traitorous responses of her own body. Her skin felt too tight, too sensitive, as an unmistakable ache formed low in her belly. She silently cursed her body’s betrayal, even as a part of her yearned for more of his touch.

The realization that he could read her so easily, could so effortlessly stoke the fires of her desire, terrified her. This was a dangerous game and one she wasn’t sure she was ready to play. The rules of engagement were completely different from the ones she had planned.

“I think you misinterpreted any silent begging, Sir. I—”

“Master D, Spitfire. You’ll call me Master D.”

“As I was trying to say, Master D,” she said as she tilted her nose regally upward, still acutely aware of her skin tingling where his lips had been, “I am not here looking to be claimed. I’m here to have a weekend of fun… and variety.”

“Ah, a submissive, so right up my alley. Don’t worry, little one, that won’t be a problem. I love three and foursomes.”

“Foursomes?” Violet did her best to appear calm, but she suspected she wasn’t successful, as the wicked smile on his lips warned her that he was onto her. “I’m afraid you once again misinterpreted my meaning. With variety, I mean scening with—”

“Me and whoever else I decide to join us.”

Violet had never indulged in threesomes, let alone foursomes. It wasn’t something she ever desired to do… until now, especially since his eyes sparked with a promise of unadulterated lust at the prospect.

“Again, I am not looking to commit to just one dominant on this flight.” Violet refused to be intimidated, but it was difficult to ignore the warning flashing in his eyes.

“I’m not just any dominant, Spitfire. I’m the Master Dom… and I will be your Master on this entire flight.” He leaned closer once more to brush his warm lips in a teasing caress over hers. Lust exploded afresh at the brief intimacy. “It’s either me, or you’ll have a very dry weekend. No Dom aboard this flight will dare take what I have openly claimed as mine.”

With those words, he deftly fastened a leather choker around her neck. The resounding click of a small lock warned her the attempt at removing it was futile.

“You can’t force me to be your submissive,” she snapped angrily. She was meant to be in control all the time. How and when did he turn the cards so quickly on her?

It was a dumb question. Master D made her forget why she was there. Realization settled like a heavy cloak around her shoulders. This man was even more powerful a dominant than she ever imagined.

“Indeed, I can’t, but I am your only option for some pleasure and fun this weekend.” His words hung in the air. A tantalizing promise and a subtle threat rolled into one.

Before Violet could formulate a response, Dexter’s hand wrapped around her throat. His grip was firm yet gentle as he effectively immobilized her. She was trapped, not just by his physical hold, but by the intensity of the moment.

Then his lips descended upon hers once more, and the world exploded into sensation. This kiss was nothing like the teasing brush moments ago. No, this was a kiss of pure, controlled dominance. His mouth claimed hers with a fierce hunger that left no room for doubt or resistance.

His lips were insistent and demanded entry. When she gasped in surrender, he took full advantage and immediately deepened the kiss. His tongue swept into her mouth, exploring, tasting, conquering. It was a kiss that spoke of dark desires and dangerous pleasures and was a preview of the depths he would take her to if she dared to follow.

“Hmm…” Moaning, Violet responded despite her best intentions. Her body betrayed her, and she melted into his embrace as if she had found her home. The kiss ignited a fire inside her core, spreading liquid heat through her veins. It was intoxicating, addictive, and terrifyingly powerful.

She felt bereft when he finally lifted his head. Her lips prickled with swollen sensitivity from his passionate assault as she struggled to catch her breath and regain some semblance of control.

“You… I…” No matter how hard she tried, Violet couldn’t articulate the beratement at his forwardness.

He stared at her for long, quiet moments. In the depths of his silvery eyes, she read a silent message that alarmed her. Those eyes spoke of possession, of barely leashed desire. They promised pleasure beyond her wildest dreams while simultaneously they hinted at the power to utterly destroy her defenses.

More than that, there was a challenge in that gaze, daring her to deny the chemistry between them. It was a look that said he could see right through her facade, past her carefully constructed walls, to the part of her that craved exactly what he was offering.

Never had she felt so exposed and vulnerable. Her heart raced as she tried to look away, to break the spell he weaved around her, but was unable to tear her gaze from his as she struggled to compose herself. Desire warred with caution as she battled with the need for self-preservation. Her resolve weakened as her carefully laid plans threatened to crumble in the face of this unexpected and overwhelming attraction.

“I’ll be in the dungeon, little one. Don’t make me wait too long.” The smile curving his lips was tender and filled her with warmth as he released her from his hold and took a step back.

“You’ll turn into a dried-out prune before I follow you,” she muttered irritably as her eyes drifted to her reflection in the mirror.

The words Master D’s engraved on the choker mocked her. He was right. No other Dom would now approach her. He was forcing her hand in a way she never expected. This was supposed to be a tryst with no emotions or involvement of any kind, and yet here she was—after no more than ten minutes in Dexter Flint’s presence—aroused and excited as much as she was terrified of the myriad of emotions at war inside her.

Focus, Violet, and get your mind off that growing bulge in his leather pants.

But holy shit! The longer she stared at it, the more her mouth turned dry as all the moisture in her body surged south to settle between her legs.

“Ah, thank fuck,” she sighed in relief at the reprieve when he turned and sauntered toward the dungeon.

“I am so screwed,” she murmured.

Correction, she was totally screwed… and so was her family if she allowed emotions and desire to rule the decisions she made.