Free Pleasure's Edge by Eve Berlin

true. But Alec had his hand on the smal of her back and was guiding her through another door.
    The room was large. The wal s were painted some dark color, and al around the room were lights in deep amber, purple, red.
    The corners were ful of shadows, and there were people there, but she couldn’t quite see what they were doing. Al she could make out were pairs and smal groups. Looking more careful y, she saw black leather pants and vests, body harnesses, corsets in red, black, white. Col ars encircling the necks of men and women: some made of leather, some of shining metal. And naked flesh.
    Here and there, against the wal s, were pieces of equipment.
    She recognized the leather-covered spanking benches, made so that the person being spanked could bend over it, resting their knees on the lower padded rails. There was a pair of large standing wooden racks people used for rope bondage, a seven-foot-tal wooden X she knew was cal ed a St. Andrew’s Cross.
    And even as she took in the scene before her she was acutely aware of Alec next to her, the heat of his big body, dwarfing her even though she wore her highest heels. The scent of him, that divine mixture of the forest and the sea. Alec and the scents of leather, a faint whiff of perfume, of sensuality in the room.
    She was trembling al over. With nervous anticipation. With desire. And something else . . .
    “You al right, Dylan?” he asked her.
    “Yes. I’m fine.”
    He stopped, put a hand under her chin, forcing her face to him.
    “Are you?”
    She swal owed. “Yes. I am. I promise. This is al just . . . new to me. I’m trying to take it al in. It’s different from any place I’ve ever been.”
    “Yes, it is.” He smiled at her, dropping his hand.
    “Where are we going?”
    “Shh, just come with me.”
    She did it, simply closed her mouth against al the questions whirling through her mind suddenly and fol owed him through the room. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. Letting someone else handle everything, make the decisions. Except the one to be here at al , she reminded herself. That was stil up to her.
    They reached the other side of the room and stopped in front of a low sofa upholstered in red leather.
    “Sit down, Dylan,” Alec said, his voice low, but ful of authority.
    She did it, trying not to question herself. This was why she was here: to let go, for once. To explore this.
    Alec sat next to her, slipping an arm across the back of the sofa.
    She could feel it brushing the back of her hair. He smel ed too damn good tonight, his scent alone making her body heat, making her dizzy.
    “We’re just going to watch for a while,” he told her, his face close to hers. “I want you to relax, to take it al in, as you said. And while you watch, you are to track your breathing, keep it slow and even.
    Do you understand, Dylan?”
    She nodded her head, her gaze on the room, the figures writhing. She could see more now that her eyes were adjusting.
    “Dylan.”
    “What?”
    “Look at me.”
    The absolute command in his voice startled her and she turned her head. Her pulse was racing, a low thrum in her veins. She wanted to argue, but his expression told her not to.
    She’d never been cowed by anything or anyone in her life. But that wasn’t what this was. Something was happening to her, gears beginning to shift in her head. She didn’t understand it.
    “I know this is difficult for you,” he said. “But you have to make an effort to give yourself over to it. To me.”
    “Yes,” she whispered, her throat tight. She couldn’t seem to take in enough breath to speak normal y.
    “There are going to be rules here. Once we get started you are not to speak unless I ask you a question, or unless there is something you absolutely must tel me. And I mean absolutely : only if your physical or mental wel -being is compromised. If you feel you are in real danger. Simply being a bit scared is not reason enough. I expect you to have some fear. Frankly, I