Some encounters are fleeting, but others change everything.
Trust doesn’t come easy to Belle. Between her cold and withdrawn parents and a slew of bad relationships, she hasn’t had much luck in that department. Two years ago, her confidence was shattered when she experienced violence at the hands of her Dom and boyfriend. Since then, she’s resigned herself to living a life filled with empty scenes with Doms and friends-with-benefits relationships, but those leave her isolated and lonely.
Ambrose is looking for someone special—a submissive to share not only scenes with but also his life. Growing up with love and support surrounding him, he has no idea what Belle is going through when she tries to trust him. After their first scene, he decides she is the submissive he wants to claim.
Choosing to embrace a new relationship, Belle tries to trust Ambrose, but just can’t bring herself to hand all of her being to him. The fact that her abusive ex is now free in the world doesn’t make things any easier for her.
Does Ambrose have the patience to work through Belle’s issues and trauma to make his way into her small yet trusted circle of loved ones? He hopes so, but they’re certainly being tested.
All Belle wants is to submit wholeheartedly to this Dom—this Master—but can she release every fear holding her back?
Reader advisory: This book contains mention of past domestic violence, suicide, and physical assault.
General Release Date: 25th July 2023
Belle was in a rut. For weeks—months—she’d had bad scene after bad scene. Everything was lacklustre, awash in a dusting of grey No emotions were involved, and the bare minimum of sexual attraction was present with each scene. It wasn’t enough for her to truly enjoy herself. And she couldn’t seem to drag herself out of the pit she’d been sliding into. Right now, she was at the bottom, unable to see the light. It was grim.
Trying to concentrate on the Dom working on her, she focussed on the feeling of the light flogger working its way up and down her back. He was waking her skin, warming her up, but it wasn’t having the desired effect on her. Her mind wandered. She wasn’t present. It wasn’t fair to either of them.
All she’d wanted for tonight was to disappear into that submissive headspace she craved. The one that helped her slip away from the real world and become enveloped in pure sensation, losing her worries. But the Dom she’d chosen tonight wasn’t hard enough. He was a soft Dom—despite him saying otherwise. He didn’t command her submission, not like others had.
Belle had known she wasn’t physically attracted to the man, despite him being attractive, but he’d said he was a firm and strict Dom. Perhaps he was to other women—women who didn’t have a stubborn independent streak a mile long like she did. But for Belle, he wasn’t hard enough. Now she couldn’t understand why she’d agreed to play with him. She was probably self-sabotaging again. My psych will be thrilled with this revelation, Belle thought sarcastically.
Closing her eyes, she let out a slow, controlled breath through pursed lips. Just focus, she told herself. She tried to just feel. Whack. Whack. Whack. The strands of leather hit her bare skin, tempting, yet not capturing her attention. Shutting her mind off, Belle tried to lose herself, to concentrate on him, but…just couldn’t… There was not a single sign of arousal or submission in her.
God dammit.
Moving to stand before her, the Dom shoved a hand into her hair and closed it in a fist, tilting her head back until she looked at him. Even that did nothing for her. Not a damn thing. Most of the time, a simple tug on her hair was enough to make Belle want to melt. But, with this man, it elicited nothing. He was too inexperienced.
His gaze softened when he caught the disappointment in her eyes.
“You’re not into this at all, are you?” he asked, his own disappointment evident.
“I’m sorry,” Belle mumbled.
Absolutely pathetic. Worthless.
Releasing her hair, he began to undo the restraints. Belle slipped on her top after he handed it to her and followed him out of the scene area.
“We’ll try it again, another time,” he offered before leaving.
Belle knew better. There would be no other time. She was running out of single Doms to play with, especially the hard-arses that she was usually attracted to. Her choice to play with a man once or twice before moving on was made out of necessity, but it wasn’t one she enjoyed. Not anymore, at least.
Deep down, Belle wanted a man to call her own. A Dom to claim her. Someone to care for her, someone she could care for. Someone she could love. She wanted what her friends had. But to find that, she would have to open herself up. That wasn’t her strong suit. She didn’t know how to do it anymore. Belle was a closed book to men. A tome sealed shut.
And now she was failing as a submissive. She visited Haven, her favourite BDSM club, each week because it gave her a safe space to explore her kinks. Each member was vetted and had a mutual goal—exploration and pleasure. It was the one place she could find experienced Doms. They were very difficult to locate in the vanilla world.
Unfortunately, Haven’s community was small and close-knit. Most of the members knew of the incident she’d had with Bryce. They had cut him out of the community as a whole and blacklisted him. They’d had her back. But a lot of them still looked at Belle as that broken woman who’d had a panic attack the first time that she had tried to scene afterwards. Even new members seemed to know of her and what had happened. It was humiliating. The BDSM community in Perth was too small sometimes.
Soon, word would get out that she could no longer perform as a submissive and her reputation would be ruined. Perhaps it was time for a break. Time to take a step back and focus on other aspects of her life for a while.
A familiar, deep voice called her name. She turned to find her friend and ex-Dom Ayden striding towards her in all his charming, handsome, powerful glory. The aura of dominance about him meant he never went unnoticed. The eyes of each available submissive nearby were drawn to him. The man was considered a commodity in the club. And Belle had always understood why.
Sighing, she forced a smile when she looked up at him, his large body towering over her. If only things had worked out between them, she wouldn’t be in her current predicament. They’d seen each other for a couple of months last year, but their spark had flamed out. Since their mutual separation, Ayden had become one of her closest friends. It had happened slowly, but he had crawled beneath her skin and now she couldn’t get rid of him. Not that she’d want to. Even if he did tease and irritate her from time to time.
“What happened to your scene?” he asked.
Belle shook her head, the pit in her gut becoming even deeper. “It wasn’t happening. I’m going to say bye to the others and head home.”
Ayden gave her a look. That irritating Dom look that said they would discuss her issues later, whether she liked it or not. He tugged at the silver-trimmed dungeon monitor vest he wore and looked around the room.
“I’m almost done with my DM shift. Go sit with the others and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
She knew better than to argue with him when he was in Dom mode. Within the club’s walls, she had to show him the same respect she would any other Dominant. Outside, she didn’t listen to him. She taunted and teased him as she did her other friends. As a Master of Haven, Ayden had the right to hand her off to other Dominants for punishment or reprimand. He had the further right to order her around because Belle was considered under his protection. He had never once taken advantage of the power she’d given him. It was probably the reason she listened to him.
Heading for the bar with her head held high, Belle ordered herself a Dr Pepper and glanced around the main club room while waiting. Amara soon approached, looking quite the sight. Amusement bubbled inside Belle. Dark-brown hair messed, lips swollen, cheeks pink, eyes all glassy—Amara appeared to have been thoroughly used. Belle couldn’t help but feel the pang of envy that struck her right in the chest.
Amara had met her Dom and fiancé Sullivan last year. The man had completed her in ways Belle couldn’t fathom. Since then, Amara had returned to her old self. Positive, fun-loving and, above all else, happy. That was all Belle wanted out of life—happiness. She couldn’t remember what it felt like to be happy anymore.
With both of her friends now partnered up, Belle was becoming sick of feeling like the third wheel when she visited one of their houses. She’d always been the odd one out. She should have been used to it. With her family, with the few friends she had growing up and now again. And it sucked.
Mentally shaking her head, Belle pushed away the negative thoughts and smiled at her friend and confidante. “Don’t you look like you just got thoroughly fucked?”
“Sullivan used a damn spanking bench. I thought it was going to be a quick scene, but he ended up taking me right there in front of everyone.”
Belle laughed. “And you loved every second of it.”
“I really did.” The other woman grinned.
She smiled at her friend, genuinely happy to see how far the other woman had come in recent months. Amara had had a rough go of it over the previous couple of years. Then she had met Sullivan and gained her confidence back. Last year she would never have partaken in a public scene—now she couldn’t get enough of them.
“Are you doing anything else tonight?”
Everybody knew that Sullivan was insatiable when it came to Amara. The man practically walked around in a constant state of arousal around his fiancée.
“He threatened to take me upstairs once he’s had a break.” She shuddered. “I just want to go home. I’m wrecked. The bastard already beat on me at home earlier today.”
“Oh, please, you love it.”
Amara was a submissive and masochist. Having Sullivan “beat” her was one of her favourite things. While Belle used to enjoy a moderate amount of pain in her kink play, she could never endure what Amara did.
The other woman got that dreamy look in her eyes, the one caused by love. “I do.”
That damn pang of envy returned. Belle took a sip of her Dr Pepper and allowed the fizz to calm her churning stomach.
“I thought you were playing,” Amara said with the slightest hint of worry in her tone.
“I couldn’t get into it,” she replied, trying to ignore that familiar wave of shame and disappointment that threatened to take over and ruin her mood. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Amara rested a gentle hand on Belle’s arm. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re tired and depressed. Don’t even try to deny it.”
“You know you living with Sullivan has become a real pain in my ass, don’t you? I used to be able to hide my depression and anxiety from you.”
Sullivan lived with clinical depression. Belle had post-traumatic stress disorder which often resulted in bouts of depression and anxiety, even panic attacks. Two years after the incident, she was still trying to get used to the mood swings and panic attacks, still trying to recognise her triggers.
Before, she’d been able to hide her symptoms from her friends, plaster that fake smile on her face and pretend everything was okay while she was dying on the inside. But now that Amara lived with Sullivan, she recognised the signs far easier and pointed out whenever Belle was depressed or anxious. And Amara was right. Belle was depressed.
“Well, you can’t hide anything from me now, so you just have to deal with it.” Amara, the brat, stuck her tongue out and grabbed her drinks off the bar top. “Come on, let’s join the others.”
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