Highest Bidder (Salacious Players’ Club)

Daisy

I’ve been playing so long, my fingers are starting to ache. The music echoes loudly through the empty apartment. It’s lovely, but it’s not calming my senses.

My mind is a mess, a whirlwind of elation and dread spinning around in my head, muddling all my thoughts. As soon as I woke up this morning, without him next to me, I came here. I needed to get lost in the music for a while, hoping if I played the notes loud, they’d drown out my thoughts.

It hasn’t worked yet. Between each chord, my mind reminds me.

Ronan proposed.

I said yes.

I have to tell him the truth.

Over and over and over in my mind.

When he finally comes back, it’s late afternoon, and he finds me in the formal living room, still vainly pounding away at the keys. His touch along my arms and over my fingers finally silences everything—the music and the dreaded thoughts. So I let him continue his way down my back and over my breasts.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up,” he whispers in my ear.

“It’s okay,” I reply, leaning into him, craning my neck in hopes that he’ll touch me some more. This time, it’s his mouth that trails long tender lines on my skin.

“How are you feeling today, baby girl?”

I hum in response as his beard scratches my throat. “Great,” I lie.

His gentle hands turn my body, placing my legs on the opposite side of the bench, so I’m facing him. Then he kneels on both knees between my legs. As our eyes meet, I swallow.

I’m still full of joy and excitement for the proposal, but it’s the fear and dread of having to tell him the truth that’s tainting everything.

“Daisy, I’m serious. Last night was intense. If you have any regrets—”

I press my hand against his mouth to quiet his words. “Not a single regret,” I reply. “Do you?”

My hand falls away from his face as he shakes his head. “No, baby girl. I don’t regret a thing.”

A smile creeps slowly across my face as he leans in, pressing his lips to mine. I let him engulf my body, seeking his touch for comfort. There’s not a safer place in the world than in his arms.

His lips find my neck again, sinking lower as he pulls the strap of my cami to the side and kisses his way across my shoulders. When his hands skate up my bare legs, I gasp as he brushes them across my sensitive core.

“Do you still want to meet with Eden tonight? Two nights in a row might be too much. We can reschedule.”

“I’m ready,” I reply eagerly. I need this. If his soft touch eases my worries, I know the pain she will bring will silence it altogether.

“If you change your mind, let me know.”

“I will,” I say, letting my legs drift apart as he lowers himself, kissing my chest and then my stomach.

“And how is this pretty pussy feeling after last night?” he whispers.

“A little sore,” I reply, biting my lip as I gaze down at him.

“Daddy’s going to kiss it all better now.” He looks up at me with a wicked smile, and I grin in response. Then he winks and settles himself between my legs, letting out a husky groan as his mouth sucks eagerly on my clit.

My body relaxes against the keys, both my elbows hitting off-key chords that echo through the room. And when I escape into the pleasure of his touch, it finally does what the piano couldn’t—it makes me forget everything I was ever worried about.

Ronan’s hand is warm in mine as we enter the club. It’s my night off, so it’s a little strange going in through the front, like a member. Tonight, I’m technically his guest.

After Melody, the hostess I’ve only spoken to a couple times, waves us in through the front curtain, she gives me a secret smile and a wink. Walking into the club on Ronan’s arm makes me feel like royalty. Out of everyone in here, every beautiful, sexy, confident woman he could choose from, he wants me. I’m not one for low self-esteem, but even that feels astounding.

And maybe that’s what love is—feeling unworthy and astonished that the man you think is the greatest person alive wants you. What a gift a love like that is.

Ronan doesn’t stop at the bar to chat with the regulars. He doesn’t take me into the open VIP area. He doesn’t even take me to his own room.

We’re going to a new room tonight. As we approach the room next to his, I take a long, deep breath and square my shoulders. I’m not nervous…I’m excited. I want this. I need this.

Ronan scans his key card against the lock, and it buzzes before he pushes it open. But he hesitates, pulling me into his arms and pressing his forehead to mine.

“I haven’t told anyone the news yet. We’ll tell them when we’re ready.”

I nod, and he takes my mouth in a quick kiss before gently pulling me into the room.

Eden is already here, setting up as we close ourselves in the room. There are things laid out on the bed, and I wince at the sight, each of them looking painful and a bit scary. Eden is dressed like I’ve seen her many times before. Fierce black lingerie, strappy and beautiful on her light tan skin.

She turns when she hears the door click, sending us both a menacing smile.

“There you are,” she says calmly, and I look to see what she’s doing, noticing a few things on the counter in front of her, and I quickly take stock of it all—a jar of something that looks like cream or lotion, silver metal that I’m assuming are clamps, and a pitcher of water, condensation dripping over the glass.

She leaves what she was doing and walks toward us, her eyes on me. “How are you feeling, Daisy? Excited? Nervous?”

I square my shoulders and swallow. “Both?”

Her response is a light laugh as she brushes a loose blonde curl out of my face.

“We’re going to have fun. Did Ronan go over everything with you? Safe word, limits, expectations?”

“Yep,” I reply with confidence.

Eden laughs again, this time sounding a little more sinister than sweet.

“Yes, Madame,” she says. “I’ll let that one slide, but next time you slip up, it’ll cost you. Understood?”

My cheeks burn as I nod. “Yes, Madame.”

Ronan’s hand is on the small of my back and I resist the urge to look at him. He’ll try to comfort me, and right now, I’m afraid if I tempt myself with the safety of his arms, I’ll back out of this.

“Take your clothes off, Daisy,” she says, her voice taking on a dominance that is much different than the woman I shared a glass of wine with in this very room just a few days ago.

“Yes, Madame,” I reply. As I move away from Ronan, he crosses the room and takes a seat on the bed, loosening his tie as he watches me. I feel his eyes on me as I pull off my dress and bra. When it comes to my lace panties, I hesitate for a moment. He prepped me before we came, explaining that I could get as naked as I felt comfortable, without pressure or expectation.

But I feel safe with both of them. If he trusts her, then so do I.

As I pull down my underwear, I find his gaze with my own. He’s staring at me with adoration in his eyes and it boosts my confidence as I pick up my clothes and set them on the bench against the wall.

“Come here, Daisy.” When I turn toward Eden, I swallow at the sight of a paddle in her hand. As she approaches me, she jerks her head to the floor and I obediently lower to my knees. My eyes are still trained upward to her face as she runs her hands through my hair. “Your daddy told me you’re a brat.”

I squeak when her grip turns painful.

“I hate to hurt you. You are such a pretty little thing,” she murmurs. “You’re a beginner, so we’re going to start slow. I know Ronan went over everything, but I need to hear you say it. What should you say if you want to slow down?”

“Yellow, Madame.”

“Good girl. And if you want to stop?”

“Red, Madame.”

“Good. Now, are you ready to begin?”

“Yes, Madame.”

The corners of her mouth pull upward into a smile. “You’re a good girl for me.” Then her voice takes on a colder tone. “Now, climb onto your daddy’s lap.”

I crawl over to Ronan, climbing onto his lap, much like I was the day he spanked me in the bedroom. Just taking the same position makes my stomach flutter with excitement. He strokes my hair with one hand, holding my arms in the other.

“We’ll start with twelve. Your daddy will count.”

I find myself tensing, afraid of the pain before the paddle flies. But the moment it lands against my bare backside, I remember why I wanted this. It burns and hurts like hell, but the sudden rush of adrenaline gives me something I haven’t felt in a long time. And I don’t even know what it is yet, but I crave it like air.

“One,” Ronan grunts.

Then, Eden smacks me again, and the sting is worse this time, and a gasp slips through my lips without warning.

“Two,” he says, his voice sounding strained.

On the third hit of the paddle, my body starts tensing on its own. My stomach muscles clench, my thighs tremble, and the sex between my legs pulses.

I love it.

Is there something wrong with me for loving this so much? For acknowledging that it hurts but enjoying it for that exact reason. With each harsh swing of the paddle, it feels as if I shed a layer, freeing a part of myself I’ve been missing. And it accomplishes so many things at once.

It’s turning me on, which by the moisture between my thighs, is obvious.

But it’s also bringing me to life. Forcing a stronger, more confident and independent person out of me that I always thought I was meant to be. It replaces the pain of grief and loss with a physical pain that manifests itself into strength. I can’t face the overwhelming anguish of living without my mother, living alone, but I can face this. I can take this.

And last, after nine swings of the paddle, I know deep down that this is my self-inflicted punishment for what I’ve done to Ronan. Deceived him. Essentially stalked him. And then let him fall in love with me. I’m breaking the one man’s heart, whose pain guts me worse than my own. I may never forgive myself for that, but at least punishing myself makes me feel better. I deserve this.

When I feel a soft hand circling my tender backside, I open my eyes. Realizing I zoned out for most of the hits, connecting only with the sting on my ass, I nearly forgot I’m not alone.

As Eden’s hand trails between my legs, sliding through the moisture of my arousal, I let out a wanton moan.

“Oh, Ronan, she’s soaked. What a dirty little girl you have.”

“Yes, I do.”

Then I feel his hand on my ass, and I come back to reality. He’s roughly massaging my flesh before giving it a light smack.

“Let’s get her up and see what else she likes,” Madame Kink says with eagerness in her voice.

It’s weird how much I like to hear them talking about me like I’m not here. Meticulously planning my punishment while I lie here silently waiting for what’s to come.

“How are you feeling, baby girl? Give Daddy a color.” With a finger under my chin, he turns my face toward him. When our eyes meet, that sense of safety washes over me.

“Green,” I reply.

With a nod, he smiles.

“Now, get up, Daisy,” Eden says assertively. So, I do.

She leads me over to the middle of the room, where a pair of soft black cuffs are hanging from the ceiling by two silver chains. I follow the chains, which are strung through a pulley, and affixed to the wall on the opposite side by a mechanism that allows someone to adjust how high or low they are.

After my hands are bound above my head, Ronan pulls the chains, lifting my wrists higher until I’m strung tight from top to bottom. I can barely touch the floor, so I rest on the balls of my feet to keep my balance.

Eden spins me, so I’m facing away from Ronan, and with her face close to mine, she smiles. “You should see the way he stares at you when you’re not looking. I’ve never seen him look like that before.”

It takes me a moment before I realize she’s breaking character. This isn’t Madame Kink talking. It’s Eden, his friend. My friend.

I gulp in a lungful of air because those words somehow hit harder than any paddle or whip. With tears in my eyes, I nod with a sad smile.

“I think with some encouragement, we can get him to do this for you. It’s not easy for him, though. It’s not in his nature to hurt you, but you have to make him understand how much you want it. How much the pain helps. How good it feels.”

Quietly, I whisper, “Yes, Madame.”

“Then you two won’t need me anymore. But of course, if you do, I’ll be here. Okay?” Her voice has taken on a softer, more intimate tone, and it tears at my heart. She cares for both of us.

As our eyes meet, I feel an overwhelming sense of connection that I never felt with her before. Suddenly, I don’t feel so strange for liking this. Because I think…Eden does too.

“Yes, Madame.”

“Good girl,” she replies with a soft look in her eyes.

Then just like that, the warmth is gone, and I glance down to see the black leather rod in her hand. I don’t know the name, and I don’t know what it’s going to feel like, but I have a feeling it’s going to hurt.

With a wicked gleam in her eye, she smiles. “Now the fun part begins.”