Page 41 of Key of Kink

Then again, maybe he wouldn’t, but the possibility sat warm and steady in my chest. This time, I wasn’t only looking forward to the scene.

I was looking forward to Max deciding I was worth another one.

Inside the club, I headed for the locker room and shrugged off my jeans and tee. The jock had been a deliberate choice. I knew it framed my arse well, and if Max was there, I wanted him to notice it.

Hell, I wanted him to be unable to resist it. The addition of the butt plug had also been deliberate.

Subtlety was not in my game plan for the evening.

I walked out onto the main floor. Obsidian hummed the way it had done the last few times with its low lights, dark wood, and the steady thud of impact somewhere deeper in the room. Laughter near the bar. Someone negotiating in a corner as though they were closing a business deal.

I saw Max immediately, which was annoying because I’d promised myself I wouldn’t make it obvious. He stood at the edge of a flogging scene, his arms folded, not smiling but watching everything with an attentive stare. The flogger landed in a clean rhythm. The sub held steady. The Dom was trying a bit too hard, but not enough to embarrass himself.

I don’t think Max missed a single beat.

I swallowed.

Do it.

I walked straight towards him, and he noticed me before I reached him. I saw the shift, subtle but there, his focus locking in.

I stopped beside him.

He didn’t look at me straight away. “Good evening.” His voice was low and even, as if he hadn’t felt that shift at all.

“Good evening.”

Silence.

He kept watching the flogging scene.

I knelt at his feet, not in a dramatic or showy way, but the simple connection of knees to the floor. I held my spine straight, hands resting on my thighs, my eyes lowered.

The flogging continued, the sound of leather against skin mingling with breathing.

“You’re confident,” he said at last.

“Yes.”

“In what?”

I didn’t rush it. “In being here.”

Max tilted my face towards his with a couple of fingers under my chin, and gave me a quick measuring glance. “And what does that mean?”

“It means I chose to kneel,” I said. Then, because I couldn’t help it, “Here.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “You assume that’s an invitation.”

“I’m not assuming anything,” I said with a shrug. “I’m just… available.”

That did it.

He looked at me properly then. “You’re enjoying this,” he murmured. “Again.”

“Yes.”

“That wasn’t approval.”