“A thousand tiny imperfections can make a perfect life.”
They call her the Ice Queen.
Mistress Marguerite is a legend at The Zone - the exclusive BDSM club. She always wears white. Never chooses the same sub twice. No intimacies. No touching. No direct eye contact. With her almost white hair and pale blue eyes, she seems like she is made of ice. And she's all about control.
Tyler Winterman is Marguerite's male counterpart. One of the most powerful male Doms, and part owner of The Zone. Though it is obvious their relationship should be based strictly on mutual admiration, Tyler's been fascinated with Marguerite for years.
The Zone has a stipulation, that requires all of their Doms to go through mentoring program - they need to spend a certain amount of hours as subs, in order to learn about BDSM from a different perspective. Due to a computer error, Marguerite lacks that, but she is required to do it finally. And, who would be better in the role of her mentor than Tyler?
Tyler, on the other hand, strongly believes she is a switch, under all that Ice Queen facade, and plans to do his very best to make her realize it, and admit it.
Marguerite's last performance in The Zone, before the weekend she'll spend with Tyler, is amazing. Or amazingly disturbing.
“We judge one another all the time, don’t we?” That sensual voice came through the speakers. Marguerite was pacing around Brendan. “But when we do that, we’re just projecting our perspective on someone and not really seeing them.” She crouched, so close to Brendan their noses almost touched. He looked dazed by his lust, mesmerized by her. “When I look into your eyes now, I see beneath the surface, everything you’ve built or constructed. Minds don’t know each other. Only souls. That’s where I’m going, Brendan. Straight to your soul. I see who you are and you see me. We know each other.”
"The look in her eyes said it all. This was her swan song here. She was snubbing her nose at him and The Zone requirement, leaving them the memory of a Mistress who was a force of nature to herself. A Goddess laughing at man’s pitiful attempts to teach her what she already knew, possibly had created herself. The message was clear.
But, once their weekend starts, nothing is like it should be. No simple D/s dynamics. No obvious moves. Everything is so much more than expected, it's clear there's something exceptional between them. Just out of reach.
They are both highly damaged souls. They both have demons that are hard to fight. They both need the upper hand. And, still, they are so good for each other.
"Her breath expulsed on a near sob as he touched her thigh. Stroked. Drew a… He drew a heart. Once, twice and then again. Then wrote, one letter at a time, big unmistakable. Upon her flesh. B…R…E…A…T…H…E."
"People are…themselves, their real selves in sex. Particularly BDSM. Can’t hide evil, good…weakness or strength. When you strip a sub down, you know who they are. They can try but they can’t hide it—not if the top is good. It all comes out…"
"He looked down at the guns. A Desert Eagle and a Sig Sauer nine millimeter, and he'd killed with both of them. "When you take a man's life that's between you, God and that man's soul. It's a personal conversation you work out your entire life. I can't talk about it because there are no words for it."
What really fascinated me, yet again, is the ability - the skill this author has - to transform a dark, edgy BDSM story into an emotional, spiritual and psychological whirlpool.
It is beyond intense. It is rough. It leaves you shaken. It's a sensory provocation from the beginning to the very end. But you can't not love it.
Tyler is a wonderful man, and truly an amazing Dom. Careful. Emotional. Insightful. He'll go all the way, stop at nothing, to give everything he has and do his best. I love him for that.
"She was a Mistress who needed a Master. Who needed him."
This is only part one of Marguerite and Tyler's story. And, I'm glad. Because these two deserve more.
Be sure not to miss this.
p.s. As I suspect many of you do, I use music either to enhance a specific mood, or to create it. While I’m reading, a song comes to my mind. It can be something in a story that reminds me of a certain melody, lyrics that are perfect for some particular moment, or simply the tone of a story that draws me to a song I like. That’s how most of the books I’ve read got their own unofficial soundtracks.
This time around, I've been listening to this song.