What am I doing here? Pippa looked out at the audience from which Seth was conspicuously missing. She was used to being in front of a crowd, being the center of attention, but that was when she was the Mermaid Comic. Right now, she wasn’t that persona. Right now, she was Pippa, Matthew Dillon’s fiancée and submissive. Her hunky Dom/lover had wasted no time in putting a dazzling ring on her finger and a pearl and diamond collar around her neck. Pippa had yet to figure out which she cherished more.

“Are you sure you want to do this in front of an audience?”

“What’s the matter, Pippa, chickening out? All you need to do is use your safeword. I won’t be mad, and we can adjourn to one of the privacy rooms, or for that matter, we can go home.”

She smiled. She liked being at home with Dillon. Who was she kidding? She liked being everywhere with Dillon.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

“Let’s face it, I’m not nearly as beautiful as a lot of these women.”

“You’re wrong, and even if you weren’t, you’re beautiful to me—every delectable, naked inch of you. Do you trust me, Pippa?”

That was a stupid question. “Of course, I do. Just sometimes I feel a little insecure.”

He nodded. Do-Right valued and insisted on honesty. “I’m telling you that you have nothing to be insecure about. There’s not a man in this club that doesn’t think you are incredibly beautiful and eminently fuckable. And after we’re done, I plan to take you home and do just that.”

Pippa sighed as he placed the blindfold over her head to cover her eyes. She loved it when he told her she was gorgeous and that he wanted nothing more than a life with her where he died in their bed with his cock buried deep inside her. Okay, that was kind of gross, but the thought was nice.

He had secured her to one of the St. Andrew’s crosses, facing forward, so she couldn’t squirm too much. At least that’s what he said. She knew for a fact that he knew just being bound to the cross made her all kinds of aroused. And why not, every single time Dillon had done it, she cried out again and again as he brought her to orgasm.

Pippa was focused solely on Dillon. He had refused to tell her what he had in mind but reminded her he’d never brought her any pain that didn’t lead directly to incredible pleasure. She heard the crack and sizzle of a violet wand being activated and she squirmed. He’d made the right call in binding her to the cross. The damn thing scared her to death.

She squealed as she felt the damn thing fizzle along the outside of her leg. Her skin lit up as he touched the wand to her naked flesh, and she writhed beneath it. She knew it could be used to inflict serious pain, but pain was never the end game with Do-Right. She always felt like she was a bottle of champagne he’d shaken up before releasing her bubbles into the world.

The flare from the crackling wand made her wriggle and she could feel her nipples coming to attention as he brought the wand up over her belly, avoiding her mound. A kind of lightning accompanied her shriek as he traced concentric circles around each of her breasts, avoiding her sensitized and pebbled nipples.

“I was wrong. You aren’t Dudley Do-Right. You’re some master magician and you have the wand to prove it.”

He slid the wand across her nipples, and her body bowed as she cried out his name and climaxed. There was a wildfire singing through her veins and lifting her higher into a place where nothing and nobody but Dillon existed.

He was her everything, bringing more color and light into her life than she’d ever dreamed possible. Everything was better with Dillon—food, travel, sex, just being. He completed her in a way Pippa had never dreamed possible.

Pippa hung in that rarefied place known as subspace. A place she thought wasn’t any more real than Wonderland or Oz, but with Dillon it was a place she visited on a regular and frequent basis. He tickled his way down her body with the wand, touching her here and there as he made his way down to the place between her legs.

She should use her safeword. She must use her safeword or he was going to turn that damn wand on her clit. Her muscles tightened in arousal and fear as he came closer and closer.

“Anything you want to say to me, baby?”

She pressed her lips together in sheer determination, knowing that if she separated them, she’d give into fear and utter her safeword. And then she had no more time to think; there was no more time for fear—only arousal and need as Dillon touched the head of the wand to her clit, making her body buck and thrash.

As she screamed out his name, she could feel her entire body softening. Her pussy was wet and ripe and ready for his possession. Dillon removed the mask and kissed her deeply as he freed her from the bindings.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said as he gathered her up into his arms and headed for the lounge to the sound of applause and cheers.

She didn’t think she’d ever tell him that as much as she gloried in his praise, the sound of having pleased the crowd didn’t hurt. Nope. No reason Do-Right ever needed to know that.