Tasha sat slumped in the chair, unconscious. He’d strapped her arm to the table next to the empty bottle of vodka.
They needed to send a strong message, one Danielle couldn’t ignore. He’d tried to come up with something less permanent, but credibility was key.
In only a short few days, he’d make back their money. Then he’d spend hours torturing Danielle before he killed her. He’d bet she’d be hellfire to break, but it would make it all the sweeter to see the life ebb from her eyes.
And if he got caught . . . he’d use his contacts to get him out of it. As he’d learned from his family, everyone had a secret, and blackmail was a great way to keep someone in your pocket for a rainy day.
Too bad he couldn’t keep Danielle. All that training, gone to waste. But he’d promised to kill her as soon as they transferred the money, and he was a man of his word.
He shook his head, clearing the arousing images of screaming women from his mind and focused on his task.
He lifted Tasha’s limp hand off the table.
And cut off her finger.
Chapter Seven
DANIELLE AND GRACIE descended the wrought-iron staircase. The flickering lanterns on the dark walls gave it a true dungeon feel, as though she was walking from the present world into the past.
A low beat of a bass vibrated under her feet. Voices murmured underneath the various cries and moans and slaps and grunts. She hadn’t understood what Gracie had meant by her description of the smells, but as she neared the bottom, it began to make sense. Leather, sweat, and musk greeted her as her gaze fell on the scenes in front of her.
An open floor plan lit by strategically placed replicas of old-fashioned candelabras and ceilings painted black further enhanced the dungeon environment. All the things she’d read about. The pictures she saw in those books Cole had given her and in her Internet research. It all existed live and in Technicolor. Leather and lace. Latex and rubber. Various collars around necks. Men and women being led around on leashes, including a few who crawled. She saw plenty of lingerie and lots and lots of skin.
Men and women hung from the ceiling on some kind of harness made of rope. She pressed her thighs together, a rush of arousal so strong, she drenched her panties. Something about those bound people made her heart race.
She didn’t understand. This wasn’t her. Not that she believed there was anything wrong with exposing your body and expressing your sexuality in a safe environment, but it wasn’t something she could ever imagine herself feeling comfortable enough to do. Even now, dressed in her panties and corset, she wore more than most of the submissives in the room, and still she wasn’t comfortable in her own body. She envied these people.
Gracie led her by the hand and pointed out the different kinds of equipment. There were a few spanking benches littered around the room. All being used. She flinched as she watched a man hit another man’s ass with a rectangular wooden paddle. The pain didn’t tempt her, but she liked the way the bench was placed so everyone could see the ass turning red before their eyes.
There were a couple men with lanyards around their neck with a round silver medallion hanging from it. She nudged Gracie and discreetly pointed to them. “What’s the significance of what those men are wearing?”
“That’s Morgan and Ryder. They’re both dungeon monitors. Come with me, and I’ll introduce you to them. If you’re interested in a ménage, those are your guys.” She winked. “Trust me.”
“I’d prefer to stand here for a few minutes, if that’s all right with you.”
Gracie patted her on the back. “It’s a lot to take in all at once. I understand. I was gonna let them know I’m available later, but I’ll stay—”
“Go. I’ll be fine on my own.”
Gracie planted a kiss on Danielle’s cheek. “I’ll only be a minute.” She vaulted off in the direction of the dungeon monitors, leaving Danielle to do what she did best.
Hide in the shadows and observe.
There were several scenes going on throughout the room. Her gaze darted around and stopped on one in the back. A man was locked into a stockade, his erect cock sticking through one of the holes. Another man was behind him, and although she couldn’t see it, she guessed by the motion that he was fucking him. Yet another man was beating the man’s cock with a thin reed of some sort and commanding him not to come. Judging by the locked man’s expression of bliss, he wasn’t going to last for long.
The dungeon was a feast for her senses. She’d watched porn before, but it had been simply a visual experience. Actors’ moans and dirty talk had always come off as insincere and almost comical. The sounds in this room were real, and the pleasure was so palpable, she could almost taste it in the air.