Finding You Bk. 02: Paradigm Shift

The system worked well, preventing members from exaggerating or fabricating their qualifications. Elysium's experienced trainers were the only persons capable of altering that information, giving submissives some peace of mind into the Dominant that they were considering. When a sub went before a whip, they could rest assured that the person wielding that instrument had the proper training to do so, and could double check to see how much experience said Dominant had under their belt without having to take the word of a stranger.

Marcus was willing to bet that the naïve sub, that his staff had just rescued, hadn't bothered to check up on her partner's qualifications before agreeing to bottom for him. There was no way that asshole had had any training in whip technique and had been well on the way to causing her serious harm with his arrogant and callous behaviour.

Dangerous idiots like him only proved that abusers existed everywhere - even their exclusive community was not immune, in spite of the rigorous screening Elysium did on its members.

He pushed angrily through his office door and slammed it shut behind him. His frustration level had redlined at lightning speed thanks to the asshole with the whip and he needed to take a minute to calm down before he went rampaging like a demented elephant. The constant, high level of testosterone in his bloodstream was scrambling his brains and Marcus honestly didn't know how much longer he was going to be able to keep a lid on his violent mood.

Closing his eyes, his brain immediately displayed the mental picture it had filed away in Marcus subconscious. Tabitha's sensual, red lips flashing a shy smile and soulful green eyes sparkling from under long lashes as she stared at him. His pulse stuttered, and then began to race as beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead and slicked his back. He licked his lips nervously, knowing what was coming but was unable, or unwilling, to stop it.

Suddenly, he found himself imagining her sweet taste and the soft mewls of pleasure she'd make as he nibbled on those lush, cupid's bow-shaped lips. His brain dived south and he saw a vision of Tabitha bound before him and the lips he was feasting on transformed into the delicate ones hidden between her parted thighs.

She'd taste like honey. He groaned, losing him in the grips of the erotic fantasy.

Instead of relaxing, his breathing had turned ragged as raw lust and unquenchable need surged through him like a narcotic. His cock turned into granite in an instant, pulsing with an angry, insistent beat that made him grimace in discomfort.

Tabitha! Goddammit! Why can't I forget about you?

One hand fumbled behind him for the door lock while the other deftly popped the button on his leather pants and he yanked the zipper angrily down. His fully erect penis sprung forward and Marcus' hand clamped around it like a vice, sliding in the pre-cum moisture that had already leaked out and slicked the throbbing crown. His back sagged against his office door, he squeezed his eyes tight and held his breath as pleasure shoved him off the ledge of reality and sent him diving head first into a jade green pool, the colour of Tabitha's eyes.

He sunk farther down, losing touch with himself, as desire ignited flames that licked over his skin and desperation brought him to the brink of tears. He gripped his cock so hard, hating what he was doing as much as he needed the release. He wanted to stop, if only to prove that he was stronger than the lust that had usurped his control. However, his hand wasn't his to command any longer and his fist remained in a stubborn strangle hold around his throbbing cock, stroking it as if he was trying to rip the offensive organ from his body.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," he hissed, feeling the tension building in his thigh muscles and spreading fire into his balls. "I can't...fuck...do...this...oh fuck...anymore!" he ground out through gritted teeth. Tension turned volcanic, burning through his belly and zeroing in on his testicles. They drew up hard against his body and Marcus threw his head back and came with a violent jerking of his hips. "Fuck! Tabitha!" he roared, releasing onto the floor in spasms that left his knees weak and his vision blurry.

I need you angel!

After his orgasm subsided, he gagged on the despair that rushed in to cool the lust that had fired his blood. He had to find a way to see her. He was going to lose his mind if he didn't.

Lose his mind...or end up killing someone.

When he could finally move again, he tucked himself back into his pants, grabbed some tissues and quickly cleaned up the mess on the floor. He'd repeated this action too many times to count in the past month and had surpassed embarrassment; now all he felt was disgust. Jerking off was probably the only thing keeping him sane, but the loss of control, every time the need caught him in its clutches, was leaving him emotionally and physically wrung out.

The insatiable need had reduced him to being a slave to his cock, which was resolutely fixated on having Tabitha all to its greedy little self.

CHAPTER 3

He was just tossing the evidence of his weakness into the wastepaper basket when a hard rap sounded from his door, instantly irritating him.

Can't he have five fucking minutes without someone needing him?

Blowing his load might have reduced the sexual frustration burning him up from the inside out, but it had only made his mood blacker. The knock sounded again, more insistent this time and Marcus gritted his teeth as he reluctantly unlocked the door, opening it to find a concerned Cooper, staring at him with an odd look on his face.

"What's with the lock down, brother? Is everything okay?"

Marcus shrugged and waved him into his office. "I just wanted some peace. Got a problem with that?"

Cooper sniffed, wrinkling his nose at the scent of sex that greeted him. "Smells like you got it. As I don't see a delightfully naked, just-fucked subbie in here, I'm going to assume that it was another solo act."

He shook his head sorrowfully. "That's just sad, brother." He sauntered past a scowling Marcus and dropped himself onto an old, beat-up leather sofa. The thing had seen better days but was still the most comfortable sofa Cooper had ever had the pleasure of planting his ass on. Marcus must have thought so too because he refused to bin the ugly piece of furniture.

"You sure you're chill?" Cooper asked him, narrowing his blue eyes skeptically. "I hate to say it, but right now, you're looking pretty jacked up to have just jacked off." Cooper couldn't help needling his friend and gave him a knowing smirk.

Marcus glared daggers at him and for a second, Cooper thought that he was actually going to take a swing at him. "Fuck off Coop. I'm not in the mood." He snarled, and then stalked to his desk and dropped heavily into his chair.

Cooper sighed, stretched back, extended his long legs and let his six foot two inch frame sink into the lush cushions.

"Just make yourself at home, why don't you? Don't you have an office of your own to go loiter in?" Marcus snapped irritably.

"Yup. Unfortunately, mine doesn't have a sofa that feels like my ass is sitting on a cloud. One day I'm going to drag this piece of shit over to my hole in the wall and leave you a ransom note. You just don't appreciate it like I do." Cooper grinned, using humor to defuse Marcus' irrational anger and to hide the worry that he was feeling on behalf of his closest friend.

Marcus looked tired, worn out and stressed. He'd never seen him so distracted and unsettled by anything, let alone a woman before, but then Tabitha wasn't just any woman. One look was all it had taken for Marcus to become hopeless ensnared by the beautiful, young woman.

Hell, even Cooper had to admit that there was something special about her. He had felt the connection too, not as strongly as Marcus had, but enough for him to have taken notice of the girl. Marcus' possessive behaviour towards her had Cooper stepping out of his way and letting his brother stake his claim on Tabitha, even though he had been interested in her as well. All he could do now was stand in the shadows, worry about his best friend's sanity and dream about what could have been.

Fed up with Marcus' bad mood, Cooper threw caution to the wind and broached the touchy subject. "Call her."

Marcus startled, raised an eyebrow in surprise then narrowed his eyes into a menacing glare. "Shut it, Coop," he growled in warning. "Don't fucking go there with me. Not tonight. I'm not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood lately, unless 'murderous rage' is an acceptable mood nowadays. Fucking call her or come down to the club floor, find yourself a willing subbie and relieve some of that toxic stress. You've been acting like a colossal asshat lately and it has to stop. Lydia is here tonight and she's asking about you." Cooper sat up and pinned his friend with a hopeful stare. "She's asking about us, man. It's been a month and people are starting to ask questions."

"Are you seriously suggesting that we play with that crazy bitch?" Marcus said incredulously.

"Yeah, if that's what it would take to get you back to your fucking senses...which you seem to have lost, by the way. You don't have to ride off into the sunset with her. Just fuck some of that frustration out with her before it kills you."

Marcus ran an agitated hand through his shaggy, black hair. He blew out a breath that turned into a snarl, grabbed his empty coffee cup and hurled it at the door. It burst into a shower of ceramic shards, littering the floor like jagged leaves.

"Feel better?" Cooper asked quietly, hiding his surprise at the out of character outburst.

Marcus looked like he was about to explode, but suddenly deflated, his face going slack with exhaustion. "Not really, no," he replied, shaking his head sadly.

"It's a pity about that cup. That was one of my favorites," Cooper sighed.

Marcus looked at him as if he didn't quite comprehend what he had just said, and then he scrubbed his face and growled in frustration. "Fuck the cup, Cooper! I'll buy you a dozen if it'll shut you up." Marcus closed his eyes and slumped back into his chair. "Sweet Jesus, I don't know what to fucking do, Coop," Marcus admitted, unable to hide his despair from his best friend any longer.

Cooper stood up and pulled a chair in front of Marcus' desk, sitting down directly across from him. "You'd better figure it out soon, brother. You're the face of Elysium and you've been practically M.I.A. for the last month. People have noticed you lurking in the heights and rumors are flying."

"Let them talk! Do you think I give a rat's ass about what they think?" he barked.

"You should!" Cooper shot back angrily. "At least half of those people come just to watch you - watch us - perform. Not only do we stand to lose thousands in membership dues if they don't renew, but fuck, man - I miss it too! It's not the same, topping a sub without you."

Marcus raised an eyebrow at Cooper. "You're not going all bromance on me are you? Because I hate to disappoint you, but I don't like your ass that much."

Cooper pretended to gag. "Fuck off, Marcus. You know what I'm trying to say. We make a good team and, as much as I love topping a sub, it's nothing compared to the rush when we work together." He paused, unsure of how Marcus would take his next words. "I like her too, brother, a hell of a lot," he ventured hesitantly, gauging Marcus' reaction.

When his friend remained calm, Cooper threw caution out the window and forged ahead. "I think...I think that she could be the one that we've been searching for." Cooper's muscles tensed, bracing him to bolt just in case Marcus went psycho in response to what he had just had the audacity to suggest.

Marcus sagged even further into the depths of his chair, a feeling of utter hopelessness washing over him. His subdued reaction surprised the hell out of Cooper, who half-expected a beating for his temerity. Blowing out a breath, Marcus looked up at Cooper, his eyes dull with fatigue.

"I can't even figure out how to be with Tabitha on my own. Christ, I don't even know if she'd even be open to the lifestyle, for all I know, she is as vanilla as they come. How the hell, am I supposed to bring up the fact that I'm not only into her, but come with a sidekick as well?"

Cooper burst out laughing. "Sidekick? Fuck you, asshole! I'm way too good looking to be anyone's sidekick! I think you got the roles confused, buddy."

"Whatever, you idiot. What the fuck am I...are we...going to do?" Marcus honestly hoped his best friend had a viable solution to the problem of Tabitha.

Cooper's brain did a furious job of scrambling to process the fact that Marcus had just included him in his potential relationship with Tabitha. He had honestly never expected him to be so accepting, and been prepared to run for his life when his friend flew into a possessive rage. Now, all of a sudden, Cooper had the potential of finding a mate as well, and his stunned brain was still several laps behind, trying to catch up.

Think, man! His subconscious coached himself. Run your mouth with something witty to say before he realises that he's included your sorry ass with him and Tabitha.

"I dunno, but whatever we do, it's not going to happen with you holding yourself in self-imposed exile. Not to mention, by the time you work up the courage to go after our woman, you're going to be blind from the constant wanking."

Cooper stood and extended his hand to Marcus. "Come on old man. Come downstairs, at least show your ugly mug to the masses and have a drink. Let the hoi polloi know that you haven't given up your evil ways to become a boring vanilla. We'll come up with a plan to tackle the Tabitha problem, brother."

"Right...because pouring alcohol on the problem is going to solve it?" Marcus grumbled skeptically.

"Probably not, but it'll ease the ache for a time and might loosen you up enough to let a sub blow you before carpal tunnel steals your grip. Take my hand and I'll help you to your feet."

"Fuck off, Coop. I'm not that much older than you." Marcus chuckled and swatted away Cooper's hand. "Okay, you win, but keep Lydia away from me. She annoys the hell out of me and I'm in no mood for her type of crazy tonight."

"Don't worry about her; I foisted her off onto one of the junior Doms and told him to keep her busy."

"You're a sick bastard, you know? She'll eat him alive," Marcus replied, mildly horrified at the thought of a hard-core pain slut such as Lydia, paired with a fresh-faced newbie. "The poor bugger's going to be traumatized for life."

Lydia was infamous amongst the experienced Doms at the club, for her habit of topping from the bottom - or taking control of a scene through manipulation or outright harassment. She regularly chewed up unsuspecting Doms just for shits and giggles, and then spit them out and went on her merry way, looking for her next victim.

She had been after Marcus for five years and though he had played with her on and off over the years, her brand of pain seeking pushed past his limits. She was a masochist of the extreme variety and required a sadist at the same level. Playing with Lydia was always a dangerous proposition, as she had a habit of misbehaving in such a way, that her behaviour would goad inexperienced Doms into losing control, just so that she could receive the kind of punishment that she needed to get off.

Marcus found that he enjoyed dolling out pain but with pleasure being the ultimate goal behind it. He didn't do pain for pain's sake and that's all that Lydia craved. Something was so fundamentally broken inside her that she associated extreme pain with love and needed one to feel the other. There were only a handful of Doms that would even consider playing with her and only because they'd set strict limits on what they were willing to do and not do beforehand. Lydia needed a firm hand but once a Dom proved that he could control her and not give in to her manipulative ways, she actually submitted in a most sublime manner.

Unfortunately, for Lydia, she made the effort required to get to that point so great that most Doms gave up trying. The only way she gave her submission, was to have it beaten out of her, and that turned off the majority of potential partners for her.

It didn't take long for Marcus to see her for what she was: an addict, for pain, alcohol, sex and drugs. She was also vain and childish, stooping to whatever level she needed to in order to get what she wanted. He didn't trust her any farther than he could throw her, but had known her for a long time and, as self-destructive as she was, Marcus couldn't help trying to protect her from herself. He even managed to get her into rehab not once, but three times in the course of their friendship but it had yet to stick.

Lydia always relapsed.

Things with Lydia had always been intense and that's why Marcus had been trying to distance himself from her. It didn't help that he had met his ex-fiancé through her and that she had known of Daria's infidelity and schemes and had said nothing to Marcus. Lydia would have been more than happy to watch him marry her gold-digging friend just so that she could swoop in and pick up the pieces later for herself.

If he hadn't accidently walked into a room in the church on their wedding day and discovered Daria with her wedding dress hoisted over her back and his groomsman balls deep between her legs, he would never have been the wiser. The pain from that betrayal was still a raw, open wound and he had not forgiven Lydia for withholding that knowledge. He rebuffed her advances, but she was persistent and didn't take no for an answer, always trying to wheedle him and Cooper into doing a scene with her. He shuddered. Lydia was no Tabitha and the thought of touching her actually repulsed him now more than ever.

He needed his angel. Marcus had a feeling that even if he wanted to take another submissive, his cock would remain stubbornly limp. He was surrounded by the most hedonistic displays of sex but the only times he had gotten hard in the past month was when he was thinking about Tabitha.

She had ruined him and didn't even know it.

CHAPTER 4

"I thought Lydia was back in rehab?" Marcus called after Cooper, wanting to shift his thoughts away from Tabitha before he found himself dealing with an embarrassing problem...again.

He was following Cooper down the stairwell that would lead them out to the main floor of the club. The administration offices occupied the same side of the gigantic, converted warehouse where Elysium had its bar, dance floor and restaurant so they didn't have too far to go. When Cooper pushed through the security door, the noise and commotion from the crowds of patrons rushed in to greet them making Marcus wish that he'd stayed in the relative quiet of his office. He really wasn't in the mood to face all the people and their inevitable questions.

Spacious as it was, the nightclub section only occupied about a quarter of the available space in the entire warehouse, but well designed, wide-open spaces situated around the bar coupled with the numerous, intimate seating areas, gave the impression of the space being much larger than it really was. The remaining three quarters of the building were filled by the massive dungeon space, the VIP suites and a partitioned off section that was currently vacant. Marcus had plans for that space to become a proper, fine-dining restaurant sometime in the future, but was still hammering out the details with his partners.

The front section of the club looked like an upscale nightclub, complete with velvet-cushioned booths, high tables, and secluded rest areas for those not partaking in the dancing. To anyone not familiar with the intrinsic sexual nature of Elysium's business, it wouldn't have been obvious that one of the country's most prestigious BDSM dungeons lay on the other side of the big wall, separating the two parts of the club. The only give away was the dress, or lack thereof, of the patrons; remove the people and the club could have passed for any normal nightclub.