de Lune, Clair - Fiona's Two Masters [Prometheus in Chains 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Read online

  Prometheus in Chains 3

  Fiona’s Two Masters

  Fiona Stuart is running from her violent ex-boyfriend. When she stopped to visit her best friend she never expected to find love with Masters Alexander and Ruari Scott in a BDSM club.

  Fiona's ex is determined to make her regret leaving him. He stalks her and attacks her but is thwarted in his first attempt to get her back by her two Doms. He tries again but he falls into a trap before he can harm her and is dealt some of his own medicine.

  Fiona loves Alexander and Ruari but has not said it. She does not know if they can love her with her mental and physical scars, so she must face losing them. They have other ideas which will lead to a happily ever after.

  Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.

  Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 23,537 words

  FIONA’S TWO MASTERS

  Prometheus in Chains 3

  Clair de Lune

  MENAGE AMOUR

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

  FIONA’S TWO MASTERS

  Copyright © 2012 by Clair de Lune

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-718-6

  First E-book Publication: November 2012

  Cover design by Christine Kirchoff

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Fiona’s Two Masters by Clair de Lune from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Clair de Lune’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. de Lune’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  For my family, with love.

  FIONA’S TWO MASTERS

  Prometheus in Chains 3

  CLAIR DE LUNE

  Copyright © 2012

  Chapter One

  I am safe, Fiona thought. At least I will be for the next couple of hours. She followed Emma into the entrance foyer of Prometheus in Chains, and Emma signed her in as her guest. She and Emma had been friends for a few years. They had met at art college then become roommates in their second and third years. Emma had opted for designing clothes and Fiona for designing websites, and their ways had parted after college. Emma was one of the few people Fiona had managed to keep in touch with. She was a stunning girl, five eight and very curvy. She had large gray eyes and wavy, shoulder-length, blonde hair. She had a pleasant way about her, too.

  Fiona looked around and was impressed by the quiet, luxurious elegance of the club. Prometheus in Chains was a mansion, standing in its own grounds, on the outskirts of Sheffield. It was surrounded by a high stone wall, and the only entrance was through the wrought-iron gates which led to a car park. Built in the nineteenth century, the facade was of mellow old Portland stone, and the house stood three stories high. In the centre of the façade, three stone steps led up to an imposing entrance, with stone columns flanking the double oak doors studded with black nails. To either side of the doors were floor-to-ceiling bay windows on the ground floor and elegant Georgian windows in the next floor. The attics were on the third floor. They were previously servants’ quarters and had skylights. They had been converted to a private flat where Prometheus, the owner, lived.

  The cool marble floor of the foyer with its burgundy velvet curtains and dark oak panels spoke of quiet opulence. Stairs in the main club room led to five large private bedrooms with en-suite bathrooms. They were all decorated in different styles, with luxurious furnishings in all but the medical and BDSM-standard playrooms. All were usually available to members with prior reservation but not always.

  She had been in many clubs but never one as plush as this, and she wondered how Emma managed the fees. After all, Emma was only in her first job, even if it was as a designer for Curvy Woman, a prestigious lingerie company. She resolved to ask her how to become a member then remembered she would not be there long enough. She did not dare remain in one place for long, and this visit to Emma was a dangerous indulgence on her part.

  She had so longed to see her friend, and she had not been able to resist the temptation to contact Emma as she was passing so close to Sheffield. Emma had been delighted to hear from her beautiful, redheaded friend. The years they had been apart, and all Fiona’s troubles had receded when Emma persuaded her to call in for a few days to visit and catch up. Fiona had been alone and isolated for so long, so she took a chance, and here she was.

  They left their belongings in the locker room and then went into the main room. Once she went through the door, the familiar sounds of a BDSM club met her ears. She was impressed with the soundproofing, as the elegant foyer was quiet and peaceful. The slap of whips and crops on flesh, the moans and cries of subs, and the occasional scream as some lucky sub was brought to climax by his or her Dom made her close her eyes and breathe deeply. She had missed all this and the mixed smells of sweat and sex and spices. Spices that weren’t usual. What was it? Cinnamon and maybe lavender. Maybe the candles were perfumed. She felt safe in this environment. Emma had assured her that she had nothing to worry about.

  The music was the usual heavy metal. It was Skinny Puppy, at the mo
ment, and the beat seemed to reverberate in her bones. She preferred Black Sabbath and had always had a passion for Ozzy. Their album Paranoid was one of her favourites.

  They went over to a group of people in various stages of undress, and most of what was worn left nothing to the imagination. They were not wearing collars either, like her, so it must have been the uncollared subs’ area. She sat and gazed discreetly about her, not wishing to catch the eye of any strolling Dom who might think her direct look a challenge. Doms might impose a penalty on her for doing so, and she had had enough pain to last her a lifetime.

  Emma left her for a while, after introducing her to the others, and went over to talk to Master Eric. Emma had told her that he was often behind the bar, but his real job was as head of security. He had long, dark-brown hair pulled back into a lace at the nape of his neck. His eyes were wide set and gray-green with long, dark lashes. He was six four, well muscled, but with a trim waist. Fiona knew they had something going on as Emma wore his training collar. He seemed a pleasant enough Dom, but one could never tell. Someone who seemed pleasant could soon turn into a monster, as she had cause to know. Gordon, her ex-boyfriend, had been charming, to begin with.

  A sub spoke to her, Jenny she thought her name was, and they started to chat. Jenny told her about all she knew about the Doms in Prometheus in Chains. There were the twin Scotsmen, Masters Alexander and Ruari. Their kilts and what, if anything, they wore underneath, was the chief topic of conversation.

  Though these two seemed the most interesting to Fiona, she couldn’t help but notice some of the other Doms in the room and Jenny continued to fill her in. She told her that Master Rafael was odd. He was bi and would as soon take a man as a woman but did not tend to keep anyone more than one night. Master Torquil was a stern Dom and the Dungeon Master in charge of discipline. Jenny’s voice sank to a whisper as she indicated the column nearby and told how he’d tethered a sub there to be tormented by any and every Dom and Domme for an hour. Jenny shuddered in supressed excitement, but Fiona shuddered in fear. She well remembered how Gordon had tormented her on more than one occasion. Fiona resolved to avoid Master Torquil at any cost.

  Chapter Two

  Over at the bar, Masters Ruari and Alexander Scott were looking at the subs.

  “Who is that delicious-looking redhead?” Ruari asked Eric, who told him she was Emma’s friend, Fiona.

  Ruari could not take his eyes off her. She was slim and beautiful with curves in all the right places and high, bountiful breasts. She was a bit overdressed for a sub, in a black-and-silver corset with some sort of sleeves attached to it and a leather skirt that reached her knees. Her skin was very pale and slightly freckled as any good redhead’s should be, Ruari thought. Her long red hair was a riot of curls, and he would just love to tangle his fingers in it then pull back her head and kiss the perfect cupid’s bow of a mouth. She did not seem to be very happy, judging by the expression on her face. Then she laughed at something, and her face lit up, and he was lost. He heard a sharp intake of breath from his brother and knew Alexander felt the same.

  They had had women together and separately, but when they were both involved with a woman, the pleasure and entertainment were more than double. They very much preferred to share one sub. He could always tell when Alexander was hunting.

  “Come on,” said Alexander impatiently. He was usually the leader in any enterprise.

  “Let’s get over there before some other Dom gets in first. If that Rafael character sees her, he will be after her like a shot.”

  The pair of them strode quickly over to the subs’ area, their kilts swinging as they strode.

  * * * *

  Fiona watched them as they approached. They were a magnificent pair. They were identical twins with short, dark hair and black brows that almost met in the middle. Their eyes were deep blue and framed by long dark lashes. They had strong jaws and wide, full-lipped mouths. Their hawklike noses made them striking rather than handsome. They were lean, muscular, and tanned, and at six six, they were tall and towered over most people. They wore kilts in the Scott tartan with leather jerkins. Their white linen shirts had long sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular arms covered in black, curly hair. Their faces and arms were well tanned. She assumed it was from their outdoor life.

  She saw their approach and should have felt apprehensive, but for some reason she didn’t. She knew who they were. Emma had told her they were Master Angus’s twin nephews. Master Angus Scott had collared Emma’s grandma, Jane. They had met when Jane had gone with Jenny to try out BDSM, after the death of her husband. Master Angus had been smitten by Jane at once. It had taken him a while to woo Jane, but now their attachment was permanent, and they were soon to be married.

  Fiona was used to seeing men in kilts. She, unlike the others in the club, knew that it was usual to wear nothing at all in the way of underwear with a kilt. The two men coming toward her were certainly well-worth looking at. She smiled and licked her lips. Her own reaction to these two men surprised her. She didn’t trust men now. She had trusted Gordon to begin with. He’d been charming, and had swept her off her feet. She had been young and naïve, flattered that he took notice of her. Once he had her living with him, he had changed. He had become cruel and violent. On many occasions, she had screwed up her courage to leave him. He seemed to sense when he had gone too far, then, for a while, he would be the old charming Gordon. He would be all apologies and promises not to hurt her again. He blamed the drink, but never made any effort to consume less. She had been weak and bloody stupid, but she would not fall into that trap again. In a prestigious club like this one, she could feel safe. The rules were strict, but they were enforced. She noticed the armbands of dungeon monitors on several large Doms. She had always loved BDSM, since she had first gone to a club with a friend, for a dare. That was where she had met Gordon. She loved the release she got in a scene. She loved the peace she found, and the escape from her troubles when in subspace.

  * * * *

  All the subs fell to their knees as they approached. Ruari noticed that she did it as an automatic reaction, so she was familiar with the protocol. This was getting better and better.

  He said to Jenny, “Who is your friend?”

  “Her name is Fiona, Sir.”

  “Fiona, come with us!” Ruari was not going to be denied, and was pleased that she got up gracefully, and, when each took hold of one of her hands, she let them lead her to a secluded alcove partly sheltered from the rest of the club by a black Japanese screen decorated with Oriental birds and flowers.

  The Doms sat on the large leather sofa and provided her with a cushion on which to kneel in front of them.

  “Look at me, Fiona. Our names are Master Ruari and Master Alexander. Where do you come from?” asked Ruari. Most of the time Alexander would take the lead, but sometimes he enjoyed letting Ruari do the groundwork while he observed, and that seemed to be the case tonight. She looked scared when he asked where she came from and he wondered why that should be a source of fear. It was a simple enough question surely.

  “I come originally from Peterhead, Sir.” He noticed she had a Scottish accent.

  “Where do you live now?”

  “Nowhere at the moment. I am just visiting Emma on my way south, Sir.”

  “Any particular reason for going even farther south?”

  As far as the twins were concerned, Sheffield was the deep south. They had no wish to go farther into Sassenach territory, and, perish the thought, down as far as London. They were only here because their uncle lived here, and once the wedding was over they were off back north. Angus, their uncle, was to marry his collared sub, Jane, very shortly. The wedding was in the planning stage. For the twins, it could not take place soon enough. They wanted to go back home, but they were close to their uncle, and would not miss his wedding for the world. Angus had known tragedy in his life, having lost his first wife to illness. He had always said that he would never marry again, so they had been surprised to he
ar about Jane, but delighted to know he had found someone with whom he could be happy.

  “Just for work, Sir.”

  “What is your work?” Ruari asked.

  * * * *

  Be damned but it was like pulling teeth, and Alexander had had enough. His cock was demanding release and even under the freedom of the kilt, his balls were feeling bloody tight and uncomfortable. He decided he was going to take over.

  “I’m a web designer. I also design exhibits for trade fairs, Sir.”

  “You are no stranger to BDSM, are you?” Alexander asked, and she looked at him then.

  “No, Sir.”

  There it was again, a bare-minimum answer. By God, he was going to get more out of this sub. Most bloody women wouldn’t shut up, but this one was as closemouthed as any he’d ever come across.

  “What do you like, and what don’t you like?

  “I don’t like pain or piercing, branding or whipping, Sir.”

  “I also asked what you do like.” Alexander growled.

  “I like spanking and bondage but no gags, Sir.”

  “Sex?”

  “Yes, but not unprotected, Sir.”

  “Anal?”

  She shuddered at that. Alexander watching her closely, wondering who had hurt her so much that such an expression should cross her face. He intended to find out. He would find out. He nodded at Ruari, who said, “Come, sit on my lap.”