My fingers brushed against the delicate chain circling my own throat. The collar Damien had given me. The one I'd worn every day since he'd fastened it around my neck.
A symbol in the kink community of being owned by another.
I looked at the man on the cross again. There it was—a thick band of black leather around his neck, a small metal ring glinting at the front.
My gaze drifted to the woman suspended in rope. A delicate chain collar, similar to mine, dangling with her.
The man being paddled in the corner. Collar.
A woman kneeling at her partner's feet, head bowed. Collar.
A man walking past on a literal leash, led by a woman in stilettos. Collar.
They were everywhere. Different styles, different materials—leather, metal, lace, chain—but all carrying the same weight. The same meaning.
Owned.
"I didn't realize." The stone at the center of my collar cool against my fingertips. "I mean, I knew what you told me, but I didn't... I didn't understand."
Damien stepped closer, his chest brushing my shoulder. "And now?"
I looked up at him—at the man who'd put this collar on me, who'd claimed me in ways I was only beginning to comprehend.
"Now I do."
"Well, well, well."
The voice came from behind us—warm, teasing, feminine.
I turned just as a woman materialized at Damien's shoulder, her hand landing on his arm with easy familiarity. Red hair tumbled past her shoulders in perfect waves. Green eyes. Full lips curved into a playful smile. And a body that belonged on the cover of a magazine—all curves poured into a black corset that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
"Damien Holt." She practically purred his name. "I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me."
Jealousy—ugly and possessive—coiled inside me.
"Vivian." Damien's voice was polite but measured. "It's been a while."
"Too long." Her fingers lingered on his bicep. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about us."
I stiffened.Us.
Before I could spiral further, a familiar figure appeared—the silver-haired man from earlier. Todd. He slid an arm around Vivian's waist, tugging her gently against his side.
"Viv, stop terrorizing the man." His voice was warm with amusement. "He's clearly here with someone."
Vivian's eyes finally—finally—slid to me. Her gaze dropped to my collar, then back up, recognition shifting in her expression.
"Oh." A knowing smile replaced the flirtation. "I see."
I relaxed a fraction.
"Emma," Damien said, his hand finding the small of my back, "this is Vivian and Todd. Old friends."
"Very old," Todd added with a grin. "I've known this one since he was a pup learning which end of the flogger to hold."
Vivian extended her hand, her grip surprisingly warm. "It's lovely to meet you, Emma." That playful smile returned, sharper now. "I'm one of Damien's old submissives."
Chapter twenty-one
