Chapter 50: Following him to a BDSM club

Ivy’s pov

"And where on earth do you think you’re going?"

The voice was a lazy, condescending drawl from the wine colored armchair in the living room, and it was a voice that had lately begun to send irritation straight to my core.

A voice I was going to ignore because I surely did not have time for bullshit tonight. I ignored Angel sprawled on the armchair, a glass of wine in his hand, his eyes raking over me from the tips of my black pumps to the blonde waves of my new wig that I had installed myself after spending hours watching YouTube tutorials.

What a pain indeed, but since I was going to that club and Gideon obviously wanted nothing to do with Ivy Harpley, then I had to be unrecognizable.

I removed my brown contacts, my true eye colors on display, a risk I was willing to take for a night of freedom, I guess.

Angel shot up from the chair when I ignored him, rushing past me and blocking my path to the door. The scent of his cologne, a scent I used to find comforting, now made me feel sick.

"Going out? Dressed like that? You look like some slut, Harper. Who are you meeting?"

"At least I’m a slut with a world-class dick waiting for me," I bit out, trying to sidestep him.

His hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around my upper arm. "Don’t you walk away from me when I’m talking to you."

I wrenched my arm free, the force of it sending me stumbling back a step. "Don’t you ever touch me again." I fumed, my whole body shaking with anger.

He tried to reach for me again, and I swung my sleek black purse, the heavy bag catching him on the shoulder.

"Harper!" He gasped, staring at me in disbelief.

"You have no right! You hear me?" I hissed through my teeth. I was done with this bullshit. What was even the need to pretend to be a proper husband despite all the times I had caught him cheating, and there was a whole-ass woman who was pregnant with his child?

"No right! I will do whatever the fuck I want, and you will leave me alone!"

I didn’t wait for a reply. I turned and ran, my heels clicking furiously on the marble floor as I stormed out of the penthouse and slammed the door behind me.

I was fumbling with the keys to my car, my hands shaking with adrenaline, when his voice floated out from behind the closed door. "You need me, Harper! You always come back to me. You’re nothing without me!"

"Fuck you, Angel." I got into the car, slamming the door and locking it. A familiar, throbbing pain started behind my eyes. A migraine, of course. Of all fucking times.

I popped two of my migraine pills out of the bottle in my purse and swallowed them dry. I would not let him win.

The drive to EXTASIM was one hour long of blurry city lights whipping past me and thumping music from the radio. I pulled up to a sleek, tall building with no signage on the front. That was what the address had basically described.

My heart was pounding with a mixture of both fear and exhilaration. Inside, I was tested, registered, and my absurdly expensive membership was processed in minutes.

A woman at a counter smiled at me. "And will you be just watching tonight, or are you a D or an S?"

I blinked. "Er...A what?"

The woman and her colleague exchanged a look and laughed. "Just give her an observer’s white mask," the first one chuckled, sliding a simple, white domino mask across the counter to me.

Another masquerade club? Really?

Last time I was in a masquerade club, I got my pussy wrecked in an elevator. Maybe it could happen again? I could almost see Kai’s smug look if he could read what was going on in my head.

The bouncer, a mountain of a man in a black tailored suit, unclipped a velvet rope when I flashed him my new, fresh Extasim black card and let me through. I stepped through the doorway, and the world tilted on its axis.

It wasn’t just a club. It was a fucking BDSM club.

The air was electric and thick with the scent of perfume, leather, and sweaty bodies. The lighting was low and intimate, casting everything in a sensual, crimson glow. The music was a deep, pulsing bass that I could feel in my bones.

My eyes widened as I took it all in.

Along one wall, a line of X crosses stood, each one occupied.

A woman in a gold mask was strapped to one, her body arching as a man in a black mask trailed a Wartenberg pinwheel over her skin. In the center of the room, a man with a golden mask was bound to a spanking bench; his Dominant, a woman in a black leather catsuit, was whipping his thighs with a paddle while a small crowd of observers in white masks watched.

Everywhere I looked, people in cages, on their knees, being worshipped, being degraded. It was such a symphony of sex and submission,

I was in awe and shock. And, to my horror, deeply, undeniably aroused.

My eyes scanned the room, trying to take it all in, trying to process this hidden world. And then I saw him.

In a slightly darker, more secluded alcove, a scene made my breath catch. A woman was suspended from a metal frame, her arms bound above her head, her body in a beautiful, taut arch.

She wore a delicate gold mask and nothing else. Glittering clamps were attached to her nipples, then trailing down to between her legs, attached to her pussy lips. Standing before her was a man in a sleek black suit, his face hidden by a stark black mask.

And he had three fingers buried in her pussy, fingering her slowly. His wrist rotated as he pumped his fingers into her, my cunt clenched so hard in jealousy as I moved closer to watch him.

The Dom was tall, broad-shouldered, his presence radiating a power that was palpable even from across the room.

Then as if sensing me approach, his head tipped up, and sapphire blue eyes met mine.

I would know that physique and those eyes anywhere.