“The woman who meets all your needs will be twice the woman I am. Have I ever lied to you, Adrian?” she asked gently when his eyes flashed with disbelief. “Trust me now as the last act between us. You will find your perfect Domme, and she will love you with everything she is. This… I’ll be a fond memory on the path to finding her, Adrian. That’s all I was ever meant to be.”
Violet forced herself to be tough, steeling herself against the desolate, beseeching look he sent her. She would miss him, sheknew—he was an integral part of her routine now, and she liked her current one. But continuing on with the arrangement was untenable; it was cruel to Adrian when nothing could come of it but his love deepening, unreciprocated, and it set the stage for a tragedy somewhere down the line.
“I don’t think I can walk away from you, Mistress,” he admitted after silence hung between them for several long, thick moments.
“I know.” Violet inclined her head; she didn’t have the same problem, and she was used to being the strong one. The smile she gave him was patient and kind before she turned away, walking easily on the two-inch heels that made her feel in control, then glanced over her shoulder as she opened the door. “Thank you for being who you are, Adrian.”
Stepping into the hallway, she closed the door on his cry of anguish and left him.
Marriage wasn’t on her cards, not anymore. Once, just two long years ago, all it would’ve taken were those four little words from the man she’d loved with everything she was, and there wouldn’t have been any other answer but yes.
Young and stupid, she reminded herself. So fucking young and stupid, she’d fallen for a Dom ten years her senior and ruthlessly smothered herself to be what he wanted, what he said he needed. It had taken her too damn long after she’d walked away from him to reclaim her own identity; there was no fucking way she was sacrificing it again.
In the years since, there’d been no one who’d tempted her to step foot on that path.
Well, Merrick might have had potential, but he was loved up and devoted to his beloved Tamsyn—and they were a perfect match for each other. Much like Adrian’s perceived relationship with her, anything she could have had with Merrick would’ve been wrong.
Violet hurried down the hallway toward the stairs; she didn’t want to be in the vicinity if Adrian suddenly vacated the room. Not because she was scared of him, but it didn’t seem fair to rub her presence in his face. She’d do her best to keep out of his way—she wasn’t sure if he would hang around, hoping for a chance to convince her they were meant to be together, hole up in his room until the weekend was over, or simply cut his stay short.
Descending the steps quickly proved slightly difficult, given the sleek, formfitting black dress she’d chosen for the afternoon appointment. It slicked over her shoulders, hugged her figure tightly, and ended mid-thigh.
All the allure of sex despite none being offered.
She supposed it was fortunate they hadn’t been intimate—getting clients off was in her job description, but the manner in which she did so was at her discretion. Using her body in that way was not her preferred style. Sex, when she chose to have it, was symbolic to her.
My choice. My life. My pleasure.
The problem was, it had been too long since she’d made that choice. Intimacy, even casual sex, was drifting out of reach. The thought of internally vetting a candidate, going through the motions, turned the whole thing into a chore, more of a hassle than anything else.
So, she worked her shifts at the club, covered those of her colleagues when they wanted time with their subs, and banked her paychecks for a rainy day.
The pretty young redhead at the reception desk beamed at her as Violet stepped up, then frowned as her eyes dropped to her screen. “Mistress Violet? Aren’t you supposed to be in a session right now?”
“I was. Unfortunately, I need you to clear my schedule for the afternoon, Jennifer.” Tapping a fingernail on the desk, Violet cast a glance over her shoulder toward the stairs. “In additionto that, remove any sessions reserved for Adrian and block him from booking any more in the future.”
Pale, jade green eyes widened as Jennifer’s fingers flew over the keyboard. She leaned forward, whispering, “Do you need me to call security, Mistress?”
“No. No, thank you. He’s done nothing wrong. There are to be no punitive measures attached to his file. Adrian is still a valued member of Serenity.”
“No… punitive… measures…” Jennifer repeated dutifully, obviously typing it into the notes section of Adrian’s file. She glanced at Violet. “Master Grit will be alerted once I update the client file; the system automatically sends the restriction to the security team for review. What would you like me to tell him when he asks for a reason for the block?”
Fuck, she really didn’t want this clusterfuck spreading around the club via the gossip mill, Violet thought. Not even amongst the upper echelons. Rumors and speculation didn’t need much encouragement to take root, spreading like bamboo roots beneath the surface, ruining reputations.
“If Grit—”Or any of the other nosy bastards,“—Elias, or Evander, for that matter, want a reason, tell them to speak to me. Otherwise, the situation has been dealt with appropriately.”
“I… yes, Mistress, I’ll let them know.”
Several peals of girlish laughter erupted from the bar behind her, seeping through the doors. Familiar laughter coming from friends she loved, Violet noted. Friends she didn’t have the time, patience, or right frame of mind to deal with right now.
The Littles were fun, rambunctious, and adorable at times; Callie was a good influence on the far quieter, much more shy Sierra. Tabitha definitely wasnota Little—in all honesty, it was surprising she was a submissive, because there was an edge to her that…
Fuck the edge, the woman was downright intimidating.
Back to the wall, surrounded by rabid raccoons intimidating.
As for Tamsyn… well, she was coming out of her shell, but it was rare she was out of Merrick’s line of sight. Her story was a tragic one, beyond the realm of believability unless one heard Tamsyn tell the tale.
Rape, murder, bartering systems where women were the currency.
