Free In the Zone by Sierra Cartwright Page B

motioned her forward. He pointed to a spot on the floor, about a foot in front of where he was standing. He purposefully cast his gaze at the floor.
    He didn’t need words to communicate his intention, and she lowered herself to her knees facing the people already taking their chairs.
    He moved in front of her. She noticed he checked to make sure the lapel microphone was switched off before speaking. “The demo will start in less than ten minutes. Until that time, you will kneel quietly. Do you understand?”
    She nodded.
    He crouched, bringing them face-to-face.
    God he was overwhelming.
    This close, she inhaled the scent of him: raw, untamed power. His biceps were well-defined in a way she hadn’t noticed before now.
    Dressed all in black, he resembled the warrior he was, a man who fearlessly sought out the darkest and most dangerous of Middle Eastern terrorists.
    His attire wasn’t aimed just at creating the illusion the attendees expected. It more authentically expressed who he really was. Tonight he was unleashing the dom who merely wore a veil of civility.
    What the hell had she been thinking in challenging this man?
    He propped the hilt of the flogger beneath her chin and captured her gaze before asking, “Do you want to use your current safe word, or do you want to choose a different one for this scene?”
    “’Ula is fine, Sir.”
    “Is there anything you want to make off-limits before we start?”
    “No, Sir.”
    “This is an advanced class. I intend to use devices on you, including a gag if you’re too noisy.”
    “I understand, Sir.”
    “Spread your legs farther apart.”
    She did.
    “More.”
    She felt the tension instantly in her hip flexors.
    He nodded. “Hands behind your head. And kneel up. I don’t want your ass on your calves.”
    This position made her a bit off balance.
    He looked at her for a moment and then stood.
    She directed her gaze at the wooden floor beneath her.
    “Oh, and Alani?”
    She glanced up.
    “Later this evening, you’re going to suck my cock. And then I’m going to fuck you hard.”
    “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, secretly thrilled for his unspoken reassurance that this was about more than punishment. He wanted her . More than anything, she wanted to please this man.
    He stood and moved to the front of the stage as if she weren’t there.
    At seven thirty, one of the monitors slowly dimmed the houselights. Her heart thundered, seeming to amplify noise.
    She was hyperaware of him and his dominance.
    Master Nathaniel turned on the microphone that was attached to his T-shirt and welcomed the guests as he laid the flogger on the tabletop.
    He informed them the demonstration was for experienced players only. He encouraged first-time attendees to work up to this kind of scene. “This takes trust between experienced players,” he explained. “If the things that happen on the stage are too much for you, please feel free to leave. Our feelings won’t be hurt.”
    There was a smattering of laughter. Some of it sounded as nervous as she felt.
    “My sub tonight is one of the club’s professionals, the beautiful Alani Dane.”
    She remained exactly where she had been and didn’t acknowledge the few wolf whistles.
    “We always recommend having a discussion beforehand if you’re playing with a new sub. I know some of you, many of you, play without a safe word, but here at Zones, skiing is our club safe word. Any sub can use it to immediately stop a scene. Failure to follow the rules can cause your membership to be revoked. Alani, tell the audience your safe word.”
    “’Ula, Sir.”
    “You’re aware that you can also use the club safe word of skiing?”
    She nodded and then remembering that he wouldn’t be satisfied unless she spoke, added, “Yes, Sir.”
    “Do you have any health concerns I need to know about? Any problems with muscles? Anything it’s impossible or unduly difficult for you to do?”
    She knew they had to go through this, but she wished they