Grinning to herself, she decided to go above Grit’s head. He would be pissed, but she knew what Boudreaux’s charm could achieve when he turned it on full; there was one person in this place who wouldn’t succumb to it, no matter what.
Boudreaux, meet your match.
Boudreaux
What was she up to?
Following her, allowing himself to watch her ass move as she glided along the hallway effortlessly, Reaux narrowed his eyes as his brain spun various scenarios and dismissed them just as quickly. He knew she was planning something, most likely an attempt to have him removed from the club before the web around her tightened any further.
Luckily, he was a man who thought ahead and was, hopefully, already several steps in front of whatever she hoped would happen next. Coming here hadn’t been spur of the moment by any means—weeks of deliberation, careful negotiating, forward thinking were involved, and he’d double-checked every base before implementing his move.
He was slightly disappointed she hadn’t done more than blush lightly at the sight of his nakedness—his cock was still infuriated that she’d been within reach and yet so unattainable—but herinitial rejection was nothing more than a stepping stone on his path.
She was a vision. Every inch the woman he always imagined her to be, with curves that would fit his hands perfectly, breasts designed to his mental specifications, and that ass… well, he was excited to make his acquaintance with that. It was the one part of herself she’d always held back, no exceptions, not even a fingertip.
This time around, Reaux was taking all of her. The tattoo over his heart was more than just a visual representation of her name, it marked him as hers, as it had from the moment he inked the first violet into his skin. No matter how deep his affection ran for certain submissives back home, his love was reserved for Violet and Violet alone.
They would be equals, he thought darkly. He didn’t care how long it took, what he had to do, if she demanded he spend hours at a time on his knees waiting for her to simply look at him. When they left Serenity and returned home to the sprawling empire crossing several Louisiana county lines, they would do so as Master and Mistress.
Unstoppable. Undefeated. Unbreakable.
King and Queen of Amatory.
She’d shortened her hair by several inches, but other than that and the subtle signs of over a decade of maturing, physically she was still his Violet. Her confidence was louder and definitely prouder, and she’d fully encompassed the spirit of the Domme who’d once lurked beneath her submissiveness like an interloper.
Some might say she was a Switch, both dominant and submissive, but Reaux wasn’t convinced. There were subs who shone brighter than a new penny in sunlight when they were on their knees, positively glowing with the need to please and fulfill their true selves. On the other side of the coin, there wereDommes who dazzled with their strictness, compassion, and creativity.
Right now, his beignet wasincroyable.
There wasn’t a hitch in her stride as she led him back to the main hallway, turning to approach the polished wooden doors at the very end. An electronic sensor to the right beamed steady green, indicating they were open, but Violet stopped and knocked politely three times without even looking behind her.
“Come in.”
She straightened her spine further, squaring her shoulders as though preparing for battle. Curiously, she took a long, slow inhale, flexing her fingers before she grasped the handle and opened the door.
Was she afraid of her bosses? Intimidated by one or both of them?
Reaux frowned. By all accounts, the research he’d put into Serenity and its people indicated that both co-owners, Evander and Elias, were typically laid back kind of guys. Shrewd, business-savvy, focused, but generally approachable.
The older of the two, Elias, was apparently a sadist—Reaux couldn’t hold that against him. Sadism was a beautiful spectrum in the lifestyle, ranging from the soft to the extreme, adding a little color and spice to the world.
“Violet, perfect. I’ve been waiting for you to answer my messages, to no avail.” The slight edge of irritation in the man’s voice made her flinch; Reaux caught the barest flicker of reaction before she buried it by lifting her chin in challenge.
“If it’s about yesterday—”
“It’s not.” The man rose from his chair behind a desk big enough to hold an orgy on, standing to his full height of… six-six, maybe six-seven? When someone was that tall, what did an inch matter? Dark brown eyes raked over Reaux. “You brought me a guest. How kind.”
“This isn’t a social visit, Evander. Our guest here has a confession Elias needs to hear.”
“I see. Does our guest have a name?”
Reaux stepped forward, offering his hand across the desk along with an easy smile. “Apologies for the interruption. My name is Boudreaux Fontenot.” His smile widened when his name sparked recognition in those dark eyes. “I believe you logged me in the system as Derek Close, yes?”
They clasped hands, shaking once with a firm grip.
“Mr. Fontenot, of course. We’ve been expecting you; I didn’t realize you’d checked in. I’m very impressed with what you’ve created in New Orleans, Baton Rouge, and… Lake Charles?”
“Ah, with regret we closed the Lake Charles location. The building suffered some structural damage and it simply wasn’t economical to continue. We expanded to a second branch in Shreveport, and are trialing clubs in both Lafayette and Metairie.” Reaux glanced at Violet, biting back a smug grin when he saw her visibly vibrating in hostile silence. “We are fortunate to dominate the club scene in the five major Louisiana cities, an achievement I am immensely proud of on behalf of my staff.”
