All Souls' Night : A Midnight Doms Boxset by Renee Rose

Across from them, another couple sip from wine glasses and chat like nothing’s weird. The man in the suit leans back and pulls the naked man between his legs.

I gasp.

“You’re staring.” Dimitri chuckles.

I realize I’m clinging to him, but when I go to step back, he drapes an arm across my collarbone, turning my back to his front.

“Look all you want. They’re all right with it. If they didn’t want you to look, they wouldn’t be out in the open. There are a few private rooms available.”

I look long enough to see that the naked man kneeling on the floor is doing exactly what I guessed he would be, his head bobbing over the seated man’s lap. The man in the suit leans back, his eyes closed. “Oh. Oh my.”

“My goodness.” Dimitri loosens his hold enough to tuck me into the curve of his arm and see my face. “I don’t think I was ever so innocent.”

“I’m not that innocent, I’m just surprised.”


“I am,” I insist. “Chad and I did all sorts of things.”

“Did you?” Dimitri puts a finger to my cheek, turns my face to him. He studies me for so long, I flush and drop my eyes. His chuckle makes my belly flip. “My sweet innocent, lies will get you punished.”

I bite my lip, shocked at the flare of arousal singing through me.

“Would you like that? Or do you want to see more?”

“I want to see,” I say, though I’m curious about punishment. I want to see. I want to experience punishment. I want it all.

Dimitri tours me through hell. There’s a huge wooden cross in the shape of an X. As we watch, a woman in red leather sashays towards it, leading two curvy subs on a leash. I tear my eyes away from them to a table where a naked redhead is strapped down and being worked over by two men. One is flogging her pussy. The other is dripping red wax over her breasts. As we watch, the man drops the small flogger and kneels. The table is the perfect height for his mouth to reach her sex.

“Master, please,” she cries. The man at her pussy doesn’t stop eating her. The man with the wax pauses to run a possessive hand over her breast. “Not yet, pet. Not until I say.”

A shudder runs through me. I curl into Dimitri, and he holds me close.

“Seen enough, little Gwen?” Dimitri’s arm is a steel band tightening around my waist.

No. I want more. The redhead’s cries reach my ears and I peek out. The man between her legs stands now, and slowly fucks her. Her head turns to the side and her mouth opens to accept her master’s cock.

Need flashes through me and my knees buckle. Dimitri reacts like he was waiting for this. He scoops me up, easily breaking into a stride. When I can face him again, we’re in a comfy chair in a quieter corner by the bar. There are a few murmurs over my head, and a server brings him an unopened bottle of water.

“Drink, little one,” he commands, and I do.

“What is this place?” I ask when I catch my breath.

“It’s a club. A place for deviants like me to give in to our perverse desires.” His tone is mocking.

“I think it’s wonderful.” I raise my head. I’m sitting in his lap, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it is. It certainly feels right. To our left, the couple sits a bit closer, their wine glasses empty and set aside. The man in the suit and his naked sub are gone. “I want to do it.”

“All of it?”

“Y-yes.” But there’s a wobble in my voice.

“My sweet innocent. Exploring this world can take a lifetime.”


“Really. There are more things in heaven or earth, Horatio. I can give you a taste—a starter course, if you will. That is, if you want to start tonight.”

I nod so eagerly, he laughs. “All right, my darling. Promise me you’ll let me know if you want to stop.”

He studies me for a moment, then straightens, his features hardening. “Stand up, Gwen. Closer. Yes.” He positions me in front of him. It feels weird to stand at attention in front of someone like this, but as his eyes roam over my face, my neck, my breasts and my hips, I feel his gaze like a touch. My toes curl in my uncomfortable heels.

“Turn around,” he orders. I face away. His hand touches the back of my thigh—under my dress—and I almost jump, reining it in at the last. He strokes my bare skin, up and down, up and down, his hand lingering at the back of my knee. Who knew my leg could be so sensitive?