Bondage Buddies (Masters of Marquis Book 1)

  Bondage Buddies

  Golden Angel

  Golden Angel LLC

  Cover designed by Eris Adderly

  Edited by Personal Touch Editing

  Copyright © 2021 by Golden Angel

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Titles by Golden Angel

  Prologue

  Mitch

  “Bondage buddies?” Domi raised her eyebrows, leaning back with her arms crossed over her chest, the position pushing up her breasts even more than the corset she was wearing. She looked skeptical but intrigued.

  Barely standing five feet tall, petite in every way, with a riot of dark brown curls that danced around her head, she was a whole bunch of sass and bravado, despite her small stature. Whenever she was at the club, she dressed like she meant business, with full-on goth aesthetic that warred against her fae-like appearance. She looked like a goth-metal fairy most of the time.

  Anyone thinking she was a pushover just because she was short or because she was a submissive should be warned by her outfits, but there was always someone who underestimated her. Domi sometimes pushed back just to show she could. It meant a few of the Doms at Stronghold and Marquis, the BDSM clubs they both belonged to, weren’t interested in playing with her.

  Right now, they were at Marquis, the club where they’d met. He’d been one of the instructors for new submissive members, and she’d been one of the students. Marquis was the fancier of the two clubs and the only one that provided dinner. A regular restaurant downstairs, but its second floor served as an exclusive kink retreat for dinner and a show and a back hall with fetish-themed hotel rooms. Stronghold was Marquis’ sister club, but they were as different as night and day. It was the original club and far more utilitarian, though it had more room to scene. The atmosphere was completely different, so Mitch had chosen to ask Domi to Marquis instead.

  Tonight was as close to a date as Mitch had been on in years. First dinner—and his proposition to Domi—which would hopefully be followed by some seriously hot play and/or sex while they watched tonight’s show. Giving her his best wicked grin, Mitch leaned across the table where they were sitting at.

  “It’s like fuck buddies, but with kink.”

  She pressed her full lips together, and he was pretty sure she was trying not to smile. The expression on her face was blank, but he could see in her dark eyes, she was thinking about it. His grin widened.

  He liked Domi.

  Mitch enjoyed her fire and sass. He especially liked it when he managed to push past it and reach the woman underneath. Feel her melt. Then make her fly.

  She was a sweet masochist whose need for pain-filled pleasure matched his sadist’s need to deliver it, which was even more of a bonus. Mitch didn’t have to do a hardcore scene every time to be satisfied, but after a while, the need would build until he couldn’t ignore it anymore. Hearing a woman beg and scream, then beg and scream for an entirely different reason, flat out did it for him. He needed her to enjoy it, though, which meant he needed someone like Domi, who loved every second of the wicked things he did to her.

  “You had fun with me during your subbie classes,” he pointed out, winking at her. All the submissives had been fun in their own way, but Domi was the one whose tastes most aligned with his.

  Their last class together, when he played doctor, had been his favorite, especially since initially, she had scoffed at the idea of medical play. The little subbie had thought he wouldn’t be able to hurt her the way she wanted. Mitch had thoroughly enjoyed proving her wrong. They’d had a discussion then about playing in the club, no commitment, but so far, she’d proven elusive and hadn’t given him a straight answer.

  Which was why he’d finally told her to meet him for dinner and a show at Marquis. He hadn’t been sure if she actually would, but figured she’d be intrigued enough to come find out what he wanted.

  “I did...” She tilted her head at him, chewing her lower lip, the uncertainty on her face making her look more vulnerable than usual. Her halo of curls bounced slightly when she shook her head, and his cock sank a little in expectation of rejection, then she surprised him. “No dating, just sex, right? Here in the club?”

  “Here or at Stronghold,” he confirmed. Coming to Marquis was more of a special event since membership was incredibly expensive, but as a member of Stronghold, they could visit Marquis one night a month without having to pay extra. He didn’t want to rule out Stronghold since they’d be able to meet there far more often.

  Domi rolled her eyes at him as if to say duh. “That’s what I meant.”

  Sliding his feet over to her side of the table, he trapped her legs between his. It wasn’t painful, and she could have easily pulled her legs up if she wanted to, but it was a reminder—he was the Dom, she was the sub. Domi sucked in a quick breath, her gaze flitting up to his, then dropping down to the beer glass in front of her.

  That was Domi. Sassy brat right up until she was challenged, then her submissiveness took over. Sometimes, it was a bit more of a fight than others, but deep down, she wanted to submit. It just had to be earned. The challenge never failed to turn him on.

  “If we’re going to play together, you’ll need to be more respectful… at least in the clubs,” he said firmly. Outside of the club, she could roll her eyes all she wanted. He didn’t care what she did when she wasn’t in his space. He just wanted to play with her when she was.

  “Sorry, Sir.” Her contriteness only lasted another few moments before she looked back up at him. Still considering, her fingers tapped nervously against her beer glass. “Would there be a club contract? Would we still be able to play with other people?”

  “I’m fine with or without a contract. As for playing with other people, I just want first dibs.” Mitch grinned at Domi’s slightly confused reaction. “If we’re both at the club, and neither of us has scened yet, we get first dibs on each other. If I’m not around, you can play with whoever you want and vice versa. My work schedule can be a little unpredictable, so I’d rather keep it casual. If you prefer setting times to scene, I can do that, but it will need to be on a week-by-week basis.”

  “No, dibs works,” she said, a slow smile curving her lips and bringing out the cute little dimple he liked to see. Mitch enjoyed making people smile and liked making them laugh even more. Domi could be a bit of a challenge, as she was in most things. Any time he got that dimple to peek out, he mentally high-fived himself. She snorted. “Dibs. I like that. That’s so you. Do you have this arrangement with anyone else?”

  “Nope, just you.” Her expression didn’t change, but he could sense s
he wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “It would be hard to have first dibs on more than one person. What if you were both there at the same time?”

  “That’s true,” she said, then shrugged, picking up her beer to take a sip. “So, why me?”

  “I like the way you scream.” He winked as heat flushed her face, turning her cheeks a dark red, and her eyes widened slightly. God, he loved kink. Only in a BDSM club could that sentence be considered foreplay.

  Domi’s tongue flicked out over her lower lip, swiping up a tiny droplet of beer, and Mitch’s cock twitched with interest. She had beautiful lips and a talented tongue, and he would very much like to explore her mouth with his cock again. Soon.

  “Is that it?” she asked, her voice huskier. The rise and fall of her breasts in her corset as she took a deep breath was easy to see. His cock was ready to go, but they still had a few details to hash out before he could get his hands on her. BDSM was big on communication—something that had been drilled into him when he’d taken the Dom class required for Marquis and Stronghold’s membership.

  “It’s a big part of it.” His voice became more serious. “We have complementary kinks. I like torturing you. And neither of us is looking for anything serious.” In fact, Domi often flat out refused to scene with the same guy twice, which was why Mitch wanted to put his offer on the table, so they both knew exactly where they stood. “There are nights when I’d just like to be able to come to the club scene and not have to worry about my submissive getting ideas beyond that.”

  Mitch was always very clear about where he was in life and that he had no interest in a relationship. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, so there were some submissives he wouldn’t scene with because he knew he wasn’t what they were looking for.

  “How’s that going to work out for you if I’m already scening with someone?” Domi asked, resting her cheek against her hand, leaning onto her elbow.

  “I’ll live.” He shrugged. “You usually don’t jump right into scening with anyone, so I figure I have a pretty good shot at being there when you decide you want to.”

  Domi

  The offer was almost too good to be true, which was why Domi was so cautious.

  She’d come out tonight because she’d been so surprised Mitch Elliott—Master Mitch, the Playboy Dom—asked her out on what amounted to a date, she had to know why. Her best friend, Rae, would have demanded it, even if Domi’s natural curiosity hadn’t driven her to it. They both needed to know what he wanted.

  His offer wasn’t entirely unexpected. It was similar to what he’d told her he wanted when she was still in training, but she hadn’t realized he was quite so serious about it. This was even more tempting than before, and not just because he was hot as hell. Tall, blond, piercing blue eyes, with broad shoulders and muscles in all the right places, he always managed to make her feel both small and safe with him. He was kind of the club clown, always looking for a laugh, but when it came time to take charge, he did so with an intensity that always left her breathless.

  His offer appealed to her on a level she hadn’t expected.

  Domi preferred stability. She didn’t want a relationship, but jumping from Dom to Dom every time she was at Stronghold didn’t hold a lot of appeal. She’d already found most Doms didn’t want to go to Marquis for a single hookup. Marquis’ setup was unique, both where the shows were held and the private rooms. In a lot of ways, she was more comfortable at Marquis than Stronghold since she was more of a voyeur than an exhibitionist. This was where she’d done all her training, but she hadn’t been able to find any Doms willing to accompany her.

  Maybe that was another reason she’d said yes to Mitch’s invitation. She’d been dying to come back to Marquis with someone other than her bestie. Watching the shows with Rae was fun, but it left them both horny and unsatisfied afterward.

  “Okay.” She couldn’t think of a single downside. While she was sure there must be one, it wasn’t leaping out at her, so she might as well enjoy herself until she found it. Especially because she wanted to enjoy tonight. She was back in Marquis with a hot Dom who wanted to fuck her into oblivion, and the show was going to be starting soon.

  Domi wanted her orgasm.

  A wicked grin lit up Mitch’s face, his blue eyes flashing bright with anticipation. He hadn’t been sure of her answer until she gave it, which was nice. She’d hate to be predictable.

  “Let’s kiss on it,” he suggested, reaching out to grab her wrist and pull her around the leather seat of the curved booth. Domi went willingly, although she pretended to be less eager than she actually felt. Her body was already buzzing from when he’d trapped her legs between his—she still didn’t know why that was so hot.

  When she was close enough, leaning toward him, he lowered his lips to hers.

  He was a damn good kisser, and Domi loved kissing. It started gentle but demanding, his lips opening and his tongue sliding between hers. His hand glided down her back, then pulled her toward him, dragging her across the seat. Her short skirt rode up to her hips as he moved her.

  One hand dipped down between her thighs, cupping her pussy... He jerked his head back when he realized she wasn’t wearing panties. Blue eyes blazed with desire and satisfaction.

  “No underwear? Good girl.” He practically breathed the words, then his lips crashed down on hers again, rougher and with more intent. Domi whimpered as his fingers slid between her wet lips, exploring her swollen folds and rubbing her needy clit. “Do you consent to sex tonight, sweetheart?”

  Domi moaned. “Yes, Sir.” Please, Sir. She wasn’t going to beg unless he made her. However, if he didn’t fuck her, she was probably going to stage a revolt.

  He chuckled. “Thank God.” His fingers swirled around her clit as a reward, although she knew he probably would have done so either way. “Condom?”

  “If you want.” Domi knew firsthand, condoms weren’t always trustworthy, but she never objected to a man taking responsibility for birth control, even though she had her own. She would have insisted on them if they were just doing a one-night hookup, regardless of his club membership, but since they were going to have dibs on each other, she’d make an exception for him. Truthfully, she liked the feeling of skin on skin better, anyway.

  “That’s a no, then,” he said, pushing his fingers slightly inside her. Domi shivered, her eyes half closing as her body stretched for him, her wet sheath welcoming him in.

  Not knowing where to put her hands, she left them where they were, one still on the table, the other beside her on the booth where he’d dropped it so he could touch her.

  Even with her eyes closed, she knew when the lights dimmed. The show was about to start. The design of the booths made them very private, although not entirely soundproof, and she could hear the murmur of anticipation from everyone else in the room. Marquis’ stage room was set up like a theater in the round, with private booths all around the edge of the room and a large stage in the center where all manner of kinky demonstrations and shows happened. Domi’s arousal surged even more. She loved a good show.

  Breaking off the kiss, Mitch swirled his fingers against her clit, his other hand moving up to the top of her corset. Her figure was too slight to really have cleavage, but the corset gave her the closest thing to it.

  “This is going to have to come off,” he murmured.

  “Quick release,” Domi purred with a flirtatious smile. It was why she liked the steampunk-style corsets. A few quick flicks to undo the front closures, and she was free. Mitch’s eyes lit up with appreciation as the sides of the corset fell away, leaving her upper body naked.

  Mitch

  Even in the dimmed lights, it was impossible not to appreciate Domi’s naked beauty. Her nipples stood out from the small mounds of her breasts, just begging to be pinched, bitten, and tormented. Her lips were parted, eyes alight, and cheeks flushed with eagerness. Mitch rubbed her clit a little harder, and she moaned, the slick heat of her pussy growing wetter with every stroke of his finger
s.

  Music, slow and languorous, with throbbing bass, filled the room. The regular lights dimmed even further, and a couple walked onto the slightly raised stage in the middle of the room where all the brightest lights were now focused. The way the lights were aimed kept them out of the darkened booths, though there were also privacy curtains available at each one, including black sheers for those who wanted to see out but didn’t want to be seen. Thick red velvet drapes could enclose the booth completely, turning it into a little oasis of privacy, which would mean not being able to watch the show. Mitch didn’t bother with either—he and Domi didn’t care about being seen.

  Master Michael, one of the owners of Marquis, and his girlfriend and submissive, Ellie, stepped onto the stage. Like Mitch and Domi, Michael was a sadist, and Ellie was a masochist, a show guaranteed to appeal directly to them.

  Michael was tall, muscular in a lanky way, with brown hair that brushed the tops of his cheeks and constantly getting in his eyes. In contrast, Ellie was short, generously curved, with creamy pale skin and nearly black hair. Her short silky robe accented her curves, thanks to the belt tied around her middle, and the skirt fluttered around her thighs. They were an attractive couple with a connection that was palpable.

  Walking to the center of the stage, Michael turned to face his sub, leaning down to give her a soft, tender kiss on the lips. Barefoot, Ellie stretched up to meet him, the expression on her face adoring.

  Mitch pulled away from Domi’s pussy, ignoring her whimper of disappointment. He pressed his wet fingers to her lips and bit back his own groan when she accepted them, cleaning off her juices with her tongue. The mimicry of what he wanted her mouth to do to his cock was hot as fuck. Curving his other arm around her, Mitch brought her flush against him, so he could more easily play with her breasts. He pulled his fingers from her lips, taking a breast in each hand. They fit into his palms, allowing his fingers to close around the full mounds and reach her peaked nipples.