Taken (Dark Grove Plantation) Read online

  Taken

  A Dark Grove Plantation Story

  By Julia Sykes

  © 2012

  Ella grinned evilly as she brought the crop down hard on Holly’s pert ass. The curvy little sub cried out at the blow, but Ella knew by the way that she arched back into her that she was enjoying herself. She glanced at Holly’s Dom, a silent question in her eyes. Holden held up two fingers, a small smirk on his face as he watched Ella dominate his sub. She nodded at him in understanding and laid two more blows across Holly’s sensitive thighs in quick succession. This time the sub nearly screamed at the intensity. But Ella could tell by her glassy eyes that she had entered subspace, pushed over the edge by the pain.

  Holden was at her side, murmuring in her ear, kissing her throat. Then he bit down on the delicate skin where her neck met her shoulder. At the same time, he touched his fingers to her clit, pinching hard. Holly moaned as she came, tugging at the chains that held her suspended as she writhed at the intensity of her orgasm. As she came down off her high, gasping, Ella gently ran her fingernails over the sub’s abused ass, making her shudder pleasurably.

  Ella helped Holden release Holly from her bonds, and then he carried her to one of the couches at the corner of the room, holding her tightly to his chest. Ella could tell from the way that he looked at her that he was utterly smitten, and she felt a pang in her chest, longing for that connection with her own man.

  But not a Dom, she thought firmly. Certainly not a Dom.

  Ella was infamous at Dark Grove Plantation, the opulent BDSM club located just outside of Charleston, for the way that she reduced men – and women, for that matter – to simpering messes. She was good at what she did. Very good. And she relished their submission.

  She enjoyed her high-powered job as a lawyer, but it was also high-stress. Men were always underestimating her in the courtroom, and it gave her immense satisfaction to smack them down, to win. And she found great relief from the indignation that she felt at their initial derision by playing kinky games with men who revered her. The disparity between condescending men and worshipful ones seemed to provide the balance she needed to feel like an equal. Not to mention that being a Domme gave her the confidence she needed to be a successful lawyer. She won in the playroom and in the courtroom.

  But unfortunately, she had never found that she was romantically attracted to any of her subs. Something about how they were subordinate to her made her feel uneasy entering into a relationship.

  Suppressing a sigh, Ella turned her eyes away from Holden and Holly, heading for the bar. She could use a drink.

  Not because I’m upset, she told herself. I’m just thirsty after that workout.

  She checked to see if her friend Gwen was working the bar tonight. The pretty blonde was always nice to her, and she had even let Ella Dom her a few times. Unfortunately, she was nowhere in sight. It would have been nice to have someone to talk to.

  She ordered a rum and coke and then stationed herself in a dark corner, trying her best not to look sulky. She should be focusing on the crowd, picking out her next conquest. But she just wasn’t up for it. Instead, she found herself fussing with her short, faux-leather skirt and matching bra; adjusting them gave her an excuse to do something else.

  “Hey there, little one.” Ella tried not to jump at the sound of his voice, so sexy with its Southern twang.

  Crap. The last person she wanted to talk to right now was Brandon, especially when she was off her game.

  She glared up at him. “I’ve told you not to call me that,” she snapped.

  “What would you prefer?” He asked, the corners of his mouth curling upward in amusement.

  “‘Mistress’ would suit you nicely,” she retorted, lifting her chin to give him an imperious stare.

  He laughed softly, his hazel eyes dancing. “I think I’ll stick to my preferred moniker, but thanks anyway.”

  Ella threw up her hands in exasperation, rolling her eyes at him.

  His strong arms were around her instantly, his palms pressed against the wall on either side of her, trapping her. “I don’t permit people to roll their eyes at me,” he said softly, a dangerous edge to his voice.

  Ella couldn’t stop her eyes from widening. The nerve of him! But she couldn’t deny her attraction to him, and it was only heightened by his close proximity. His eyes had shifted from genial brown to an intense, dark green now, offsetting his curly black hair that she secretly wanted to run her hands through. And his scent… She wanted to drink it in. He smelled of amber and musk and darkness. Looking up into his eyes, she had to resist the urge to swallow hard.

  “When will you admit that you want me, little one?” He asked, his voice low and rough.

  Ella shook her head vigorously. “Never,” she whispered.

  “You’ll never admit it, or you’ll never want me?” He asked with a sly smile.

  “Either. Both,” she said, getting flustered. His closeness was throwing her off, his masculine scent wreaking havoc on her brain, making her think that she did want him. But that was crazy. Brandon was a Dom through and through. And Ella wasn’t interested in a man who wanted to undermine her.

  She pressed her hands against his hard chest, resisting the urge to run her fingers over his sculpted body, to lightly sink her nails into his flesh…

  Stop that! She ordered herself.

  He didn’t budge a millimeter. Ella was unsettled, but she felt her body betray her, and her sex pulsed as she realized her predicament. What was wrong with her? She needed to get out of here, to go home.

  “Back off,” she hissed. “Or I’ll make you.”

  Brandon just chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re angry, you know,” he told her. Then he cocked his head at her. “But I have to ask: Just how are you planning to get out of this?”

  His smug expression was enough to quell her lust for him. She shot him an evil smile before shouting, “Red!”

  Several people turned to look at them, their attention caught by the sight of Ella, the infamous Domme, shouting out a safe word. She was slightly embarrassed that they had heard, but it was the only way that she knew to force Brandon away from her.

  He growled, and his hands clenched to fists against the wall. He stared down at her for a moment, his green eyes stormy. Then he pushed away from her. Ella determinedly held back her sigh of relief.

  “Fine,” he snapped. “You win. For now.”

  Ella watched him as he stalked off, feeling an inexplicable pang of regret. Was it because she felt bad for embarrassing him or because she missed his presence?

  For god’s sake, stop thinking like that!

  She downed the rest of her drink, hoping that a buzz would quell her nonsensical thoughts. She didn’t want to run, but she couldn’t bear to stay at Dark Grove any longer tonight. She told herself that it had nothing to do with Brandon, that she was just tired after playing with Holly. But a part of her told her that she was lying to herself.

  Shut up! She told it firmly.

  A week later, Brandon found himself back at Dark Grove. He seemed to be drawn there every weekend now. Drawn by the allure of Ella, the gorgeous Domme who he longed to force to submit to him. She was the ultimate challenge, and he had never been so turned on by the idea of dominating any woman.

  He had tried playing with other submissives at the Plantation since he had first seen Ella, but none of them had been able to slake his desire, to quell his longing for the enchanting Domme. She called to him like a Siren; he would have resisted her song if he could, but he seemed powerless to do so. She was undeniably gorgeous: lithe and fit, with dark eyes that matched her long, silky hair. But his attraction to her went beyond the purely physical.

  La
st weekend had been a Hail-Mary as he attempted to force her inner submissive out from behind her tough exterior. He could sense it, could smell it like a hound catches the scent of the fox. And he had become determined to pursue his quarry, to hunt her down and take her.

  But his attempt to trap her had backfired, and she had used her get-out-of-jail-free card to force him away. He had never dreamed that she would resort to using a safe word, but apparently using dirty tricks wasn’t beneath her.

  He couldn’t help grinning at the memory, though. She was such a little spitfire. It would make bending her to his will all the more satisfying.

  As a landscaper, Brandon loved watching things grow, shaping and pruning them until they reached their full beauty. He felt the same way about women. He savored coaxing the submissive out of them, teaching them the pleasures of giving their will over to him. In their bondage, they were freed completely, freed from all thoughts and worries. His lust was ignited by watching a submissive blossom as she embraced that side of herself, reveled in it. He loved to see the unadulterated joy that he brought them through his temporary control of their bodies and minds.

  And he would do the same for Ella. He could see her discontent in the stiffness of her shoulders, the tenseness he could detect in her bearing. She needed that release, even if she didn’t know it.

  Slow down there, he warned himself. You haven’t even so much as lured her into a conversation yet, much less into your bed.

  Somehow - he didn’t know how yet - he would have her.

  I’m enjoying this. I am, Ella told herself as she watched the red stripes appear on Charlie’s thighs as she caned him.

  “Thank you, Mistress!” He cried out with every stroke, just as she had ordered him to do.

  She experienced a hint of that heady feeling she got from dominating someone, from taking complete control. But something was wrong with her tonight. She felt as though she was chasing the high, and the harder she tried to attain it, the more unattainable it became.

  But she stayed in character; Charlie deserved that. He was a good submissive, and she had been Domming him for a little over a year now. They had even had a few private sessions at her house. He was clearly infatuated with her, so she tried to keep him at arm’s length, careful not to show him any excessive affection beyond what her Domme-ly duties dictated.

  On the next stroke, he was silent, forgetting to thank her. She knew then that he had entered his submissive headspace, and it was time for her to stop. She removed the cuffs that held him spread-eagle on the bed and then gently turned him onto his back. She lay there with him, languorously running her fingers through his short blonde hair, tracing her nails across his defined abs. It once would have given her pleasure to reflect on the fact that she had reduced such a strong man to a simpering mess. She tried to summon up some of the joy that she usually felt, but then Charlie muttered something that utterly shocked her.

  “I love you, Mistress,” he murmured in his stupor.

  Ella’s eyes widened. Oh no. This wasn’t at all what she wanted. She suddenly felt cold all over as guilt and shock came crashing down on her like a tsunami. She had just been questioning if she even liked playing with Charlie anymore, and now he made this startling admission?

  Ella wanted to draw away from him, to recoil. But he was still coming back up, and she didn’t want him to drop if she abandoned him. Maybe he wouldn’t remember saying it and they could move on.

  But she knew then in her gut that she would have to break things off with him, never play with him again. It just wasn’t fair to him for her to string him along when she had no feelings for him other than fond affection. She was suddenly grateful that they had been playing in a private room, that no one had overheard. That would have been… complicated. She didn’t want people to think her callous or manipulative.

  But I am, aren’t I? She felt like shit, hating herself for what she had done to Charlie.

  After what seemed an eternity, his eyes finally fluttered open. He smiled up at her sleepily, his beatific expression letting her know that he was completely stated, satisfied.

  “Come on,” Ella said gently, wanting to escape the private room. “Let’s go back to the bar.”

  Charlie looked crestfallen. Did he remember what he had just admitted? If he did, he didn’t mention it. And Ella was extremely grateful for that. She didn’t like messy situations, awkward conversations. She was used to facing problems head on, making an argument. But the last thing that Charlie needed in his vulnerable state was a courtroom-style smack-down.

  Ella found that she could no longer meet his intense blue eyes, and she was relieved when he quietly followed her out of the room and back into the corridor that would lead them to the bar area.

  When they reached it, the coward in her took over, and she excused herself to talk to Gwen.

  “Hey!” The bubbly, curly-haired blonde greeted her with her usual cheeriness.

  “Hey,” Ella tried to smile, but she could feel that it came out as more of a grimace. “Rum and coke, please. And make it a double,” she added.

  Gwen’s eyes softened. “Man trouble?” She asked, understanding instantly.

  “You have no idea,” Ella responded glumly, unable to mask her dark mood.

  “Maybe I can help with that,” his dreaded voice said from over her shoulder. She spun to face Brandon to find him grinning smugly. “Unless I’m the trouble you’re referring to. If so, I’m extremely flattered that I affect you so deeply.”

  “You wish,” Ella said snappily.

  “Then let me make it all better, sugar” he said, reaching out to run his hand casually down her upper arm, touching her as though he had every right.

  She slapped it away. “Don’t make me safe word on you again,” she threatened. “You know I will.”

  That wiped the smirk right off his face, replacing it with a grimace. She almost wanted to take a step back at the sudden forbidding aura that radiated off of him; his fists were clenched and the lines of his face were drawn down harshly. “I wouldn’t try that again if I were you,” he said roughly. “Otherwise you’ll become known as the girl who cried ‘red’.”

  “‘Girl?!’” Ella blanched. “How dare you! I’m so sick of you demeaning me. I demand your respect,” she said haughtily, raising her chin and putting on her best Domme-ly air.

  From the way he chuckled at her, she could tell that it did not have the desired effect. And if she was honest with herself, it was a bit laughable to think that she could make this powerful man who towered over her back down.

  “Have I told you how cute you are when you’re angry?” He asked, his eyes dancing, taunting her.

  “You know very well that you have,” she snapped, realizing too late that she was rising to his bait. “If you can’t come up with anything more original, then I’m bored of this conversation already.”

  She spun on her heel to stalk away, head held high, but she was stopped short when a large hand encircled her upper arm. She had to suppress a shiver at how small it made her feel, how breakable in his grasp. Instead, she glared back at him over her shoulder.

  “Haven’t I told you not to touch me?” She asked, knowingly repeating herself, just as he had done moments before.

  He laughed again, clearly amused. But there was nothing smug in his chuckle this time; he was genuinely surprised and pleased.

  “Ah, Ella, the things you do to me,” he said, grinning.

  She stared at his hand on her arm pointedly, but he didn’t release her. Instead, the strength of his grip increased incrementally, reinforcing how powerless she was against him if he decided to take her, ignoring her will…

  Ella blushed as she realized that her nipples were hardening, her core pulsing. That was all the evidence that Brandon needed; it was the first visible sign that she had ever given him that she was interested. Cursing herself, she struggled to cool her heated cheeks.

  Baseball. Spiders. Vacuuming the house. She went through a list of thin
gs she hated, determinedly quelling the lust that had arisen within her. When all of it had faded, she met Brandon’s eye with a steely gaze.

  His brows were raised, surprised. “I’m impressed,” he conceded. But then his voice lowered. “But don’t think I didn’t just see that chink in your armor. And don’t think I won’t exploit it.”

  “Oh?” She asked imperiously. “And how do you plan to do that?” Her voice was sardonic, but her body was still longing to react to the warmth of his hand on her arm. Looking within herself, she found that she didn’t really want him to let her go, if she was being perfectly honest with herself.

  Brandon cocked his head at her, studying her intently for a moment. “You know,” he said softly. “I think I have your number now.”

  “What?” Ella asked, a bit frightened at what he meant. Had he really seen beyond her hard façade? Had he truly learned something about her in those few moments of vulnerability?

  “You like to win, don’t you? Like to play games?”

  Well, that much was definitely true. She tried to hide her keen interest, but she could feel that her eyes betrayed her curiosity.

  “Maybe,” she hedged.

  He grinned. “So that’s a ‘yes,’ then,” he said, clearly pleased that he had assumed correctly. His expression turned solemn, but there was something mocking in his eyes, taunting her to rise to his challenge. And damn it if she didn’t want to.

  “I propose a bet,” he said. “If you can resist coming for me – without having sex - I’ll leave you alone forever.”

  Hmmm. The idea was tempting. But what were the terms? “And if you succeed?” She asked, trying to keep the nervousness from her voice.

  His grin turned predatory, more a baring of the teeth than a smile. “Then I get to have you. You’ll be mine for the night.”

  Something quivered in Ella’s belly, and she couldn’t tell if it was from fear or arousal at his proposition. This was a very dangerous game, a dangerous wager with potentially humiliating consequences. But his hand was still on her arm, radiating warmth throughout her entire body. What would it be like to be dominated by a man, to give up control? Her submissives certainly reveled in it, found great release through submitting to her. Could she learn to enjoy it as well? Curiosity overcame common sense, and she nodded.