Dreamer Read Free Page A

her once, weeks
ago, and now she seemed fixated on him. Gods knew why. He wouldn't hurt and
debase her like she wanted, and her attempts to top from the bottom totally
turned him off. With a bitter twist of his mouth, he remembered the way she had
lied about what she wanted and tried to goad him into really beating her. So
much of the D/s relationship was built on trust, even during the casual
encounters at the club. No matter how beautiful and willing, her dishonesty was
a total turn-off and he kept his distance from her.
    His best friend, Malik, adjusted the leather mask he was
wearing and equally ignored Maria and her silent pleading. Unlike Devon's solid
black mask, Malik's had traces of gold that gleamed against his dark brown
skin. Big and solid, the men filled the couch they shared. Though the club was
crowded, no one sat near them, and a circle of masterless submissives whispered
and admired them from across the room.
    “I thought Maria got kicked out for causing that fight
between Master Greg and Master Dane,” Malik muttered as he scanned the crowd.
    “Ben let her back in. From what he said, she recently got
away from a fucked-up Master who put her in the hospital. Said her head is all
messed up and she needs the good influence and safety of the club before she
goes out and finds another abusive asshole. You know Ben. Show him a wounded
sub, and he wants to make it all better.”
    Malik grunted a laugh and shook his head. “That girl is
nothing but trouble. I've watched her play the baby Doms, bending them around
her little finger and making them jump through hoops.”
    Shrugging, Devon minutely relaxed as he watched Maria pair
off with an older sadist and head for the playroom downstairs. Despite the
small amount of pity he felt for her, he was glad she wouldn't be following him
around tonight. Something burned in his blood, and he felt an eager sense of
anticipation he hadn't experienced in years. Almost as though he was waiting
for something wonderful to happen. Snorting at his own foolishness, he cracked
his knuckles for the third time in less than ten minutes.
    Malik carefully scanned the floor. “What are you in the mood
for tonight?”
    Shrugging his broad shoulders, Devon ran a hand over his
tight brush cut. He tried to keep his words light, but his tension crept
through. “Something soft.”
    Malik grinned, his teeth a flash of white in the subdued
lighting of the Steel Chalice. “The need is riding you hard tonight, isn't it?”
    Instead of answering, Devon nodded. His gaze locked on a
full-figured submissive with short red hair and skin as pale as cream. Her nice
full hips would be a pleasure to grip. She noticed him watching her and dropped
her gaze to the ground, toying with the ends of her fringed black dress.
    “Being the Chosen of a War God isn't easy,” Devon admitted
and continued to watch the submissive. He drank in the hesitant way she edged
across the floor toward him, the fear and anticipation coming off her in waves.
    “Especially when you're already an arrogant prick.” Malik
turned his attention to the submissive who paused at the end of the stairs that
led to where they were sitting. His voice dropped an octave. “The need to
dominate, to own and possess, can become overwhelming.”
    Making up her mind, the submissive went to her knees and
began to crawl up the steps toward them. Both men took a deep breath of her
scent and sighed in disappointment.
    “Human.” Devon breathed out. “A little gold mist in her
aura. I'm going to guess she's a Priestess of Zeus.”
    Malik leaned forward, his attention on the doorway. “What I
wouldn't give to find an unattached submissive Chosen.” He rolled his shoulders
beneath his black leather shirt and cracked his neck. “All the good ones are
taken. What I wouldn’t give to find a single, hot submissive Chosen tonight. I
need to let out some tension with a woman who can take it.”
    Guess
I'm not the only one being ridden hard by the