by Gemma James
We weren’t alone. Someone sat behind the desk where an odd machine was displayed on the surface. “Have a seat,” he invited with a reassuring smile.
“This is Mr. Hughes,” Gage said as I slid into a chair. “He’s aware of the nature of our relationship, so there’s no need to feel uncomfortable at the intimacy of the questions. He’s heard it all, trust me.”
I quirked an eyebrow but didn’t voice my incredulity.
“I’ll be back when you’ve finished.” Gage pinned me to the chair with his deep blue eyes. “I’ll advise you not to lie here, Kayla.”
I hadn’t planned to, but that still didn’t calm my apprehension. Lie detectors weren’t fail-proof, were they?
“Don’t be nervous,” Mr. Hughes said after Gage had disappeared through the doorway. “Just be honest and everything will go smoothly.”
Sure, says the guy administering the test. I folded my hands in my lap and remained silent as he hooked me up to the machine. He pressed a few buttons, made some adjustments, and pulled out a sheet of paper.
“Do you take any medications?”
“No.”
He asked several more questions—all of them related to my personal and medical background. “All right, I’m going to ask you two questions that you’ll answer yes to. This is to calibrate the machine.” He cleared his throat. “Is your name Kayla Sutton?”
“Yes.”
“Do you live in Europe?”
“Yes.”
He cleared his throat again and peered at the paper in his hands. “Let’s begin. Did you have any inappropriate contact with a man other than your Master?”
I swallowed hard and thought about Ian. Considering he hadn’t even touched me, and I’d only spoken to him briefly to push him out of my life—probably for good—I was fairly certain in my answer. “No.”
“Did you break any of your Master’s rules?”
“N-no.”
Mr. Hughes marked something on the printout. “Did you eat fish for dinner every night this week?”
“Yes.”
“Did you take off your Master’s collar?”
“No.”
“Did you masturbate?”
My face burned at such an intimate question. “No.” But God, how I’d wanted to.
He asked a few more questions, and when it was over I experienced the sweetest sense of relief. Gage reentered the room after I’d been unhooked from the machine.
“Did she pass?”
“Yes.”
“Go on down to the basement and prepare. I’ll be down shortly.”
“Yes, Master.” I hurried from the room and entered the basement with flaming cheeks. That had been more mortifying than going to the gynecologist. A few moments snuck by as I leaned against the door, breathing heavy as uncertainty took hold of me. He wanted me to “prepare.” I suddenly felt lost; without Gage to dictate my every move, I wasn’t sure what to do. Descending the stairs, I entered his “dungeon” and remembered how the cold leather of the bench chilled my skin, how the sharp sting of his whip struck with the speed of a snake; and more recently how that strip of leather had the power to set my crotch on fire…how his tongue ignited a different kind of burn.
I stepped into the room, brought my fingers to my blouse, and began unhooking the buttons. Instinctively, I knew what he wanted. My nipples pebbled in the chilly air, and as I laid my clothing neatly on the couch, tingles shivered to my toes. I moved to the center of the floor and fell to my knees.
And closed my eyes and waited.
A drift of air was the only indication he’d entered. His clothes whispered as he came near, and I hated myself for craving the warmth he radiated.
Dampness flooded the spot between my thighs. I craved much more than body heat. Gage had done something to me—flipped a switch—and despite the harsh punishments he issued, I yearned for another taste of explosive liberation. I’d taken it once without permission; somehow, I knew he’d send me into another realm when he coaxed an orgasm from me of his own free will. It was that foggy-headed reality I hungered for most—a time when thought wasn’t possible, when pain and difficult decisions didn’t exist. Gage had enslaved me, and by doing so he also freed me on some level.
“Are you ready to fully submit, Kayla?”
“Yes, Master.”
He ran a hand over my hair. “Why are you on your knees?”
“To please you, Master.”
He groaned. “You are, baby, and I can’t wait to return the favor.” My heart began to race. The haze was taking over already, and he had barely touched me. “Though your pleasure will come with pain.” He tilted my chin up. “Did you send the doctor away?”
“Yes, Master.”
“How did he take it?”
Ian’s angry, hurt expression flashed in my mind. “Not well.”
“And he won’t come back?”
I blinked. “I don’t think so.”
“How does that make you feel?”
“Upset, Master.” The truth spilled from my lips without thought or effort. The way he commanded my compliance, his strong voice floating above me as I kneeled on the hard floor, reinforced the dynamics of our relationship.
“Yet you obeyed me, and you’re being truthful about it.”
“Yes, Master. I told you I was yours, and I meant it.” Five more weeks. I could give him that.
“I needed to know you’d be honest with me no matter what. Your absolute honesty is important to me. I’ll accept nothing less.”
“I know, Master.” It was one of two rules I would never break, the other being confidentiality.
He slipped a blindfold over my eyes before guiding me to my feet. “Undress me,” he said, bringing my hands to his shirt.
I fumbled with the buttons, blindly undoing them. His shirt whispered to the floor, and my hands drifted to his belt. Sliding it from the loops reminded me of the beating I’d taken in his office earlier that week. I shuddered at the thought and reached for what I thought was the button of his slacks. Instead I found his erection straining against the zipper. He jerked my hands up a few inches and helped me remove the last barrier to his body.
“Good girl.” He pressed down on my shoulders until I sank to my knees again. Unlike in his office, where he’d given me most of the control, he swatted my hands away, grabbed my head, and forced his cock between my lips. I gagged the deeper he dove, but that didn’t deter him. I couldn’t see his expression, but I imagined the tightness of his features, the tension in his shoulders as he neared climax. I didn’t fight him as he slipped in and out, his balls flapping against my chin. The loud groan he released as he spilled into my mouth sent fire between my legs. I ached in a way that was exhilarating and humiliating all at once—the two emotions fought for space in my heart. No matter how many times he forced me to my knees, demanded I bend to his will, my body still responded in a primal way even I didn’t understand.
Gage expelled a heavy breath. “You know how to love a man’s cock.”
I raised my head and waited for his instruction.
He removed the blindfold. “We have a Christmas party to get to.” Gage helped me to my feet, and I gasped when he spun me around and pushed me to the bed. “Bend over.” I hadn’t noticed the cocktail dress he’d set out on the mattress…or the butt plug and nipples clamps. I cringed to think of the pain those things would inflict.
“You’ll wear them to the party,” he said, as if he’d heard my thoughts. He grabbed the plug, and I tensed in preparation, hissing a breath through my teeth as he pushed it in. He grabbed my arm and twirled me until I faced him again. I shrank away when he reached for the clamps.
“I-I’m sorr—”
“Don’t be sorry, Kayla. Just obey. I can restrain you, if you won’t behave yourself.”
I shook my head and stepped toward him.
His eyes lingered on my nipples, and the edges of his mouth turned up. “Stand up straight and clasp your hands behind your back. You’ll learn to
present your breasts properly.”
I lengthened my spine and laced my fingers together at the small of my back, and the position put my chest on display. He bent down and slid his tongue across each nipple. A delicious chill raced through me, only to be obliterated when he clamped the first sensitive peak. I whimpered, and Gage responded by tightening the clamp further. I screwed my eyes shut as he did the same to the other side. I could only imagine how excruciating they’d feel if I hadn’t breastfed.
He brought his mouth to my ear. “I want you uncomfortable. I want your tits aching, your ass full. By the time we return tonight, you’ll beg me to fill every part of you.”
A shiver of excitement tore through me.
“Get dressed. Come upstairs when you’re ready.” His lips drifted down my chest, and he bit down on the chain connecting my breasts and pulled. “Don’t take too long—we’re almost late.”
I dressed quickly, gritting my teeth as the material scraped across my aching nipples, and then climbed the stairs. Gage’s voice rang through the house as I edged the door open, though judging by his low tone, I figured he didn’t want to be overheard. Whoever was on the other end of the call had sure pushed a button.
“I’m tired of your threats!” he hissed.
I should have announced my presence, but in the end my curious nature won. I pressed against the door and listened.
“You have no idea who you’re dealing with, do you?” Silence followed, until he muttered something indistinguishable. The sound of his feet hitting the floor reverberated in my ears. I scrambled to open the door behind me, and when Gage rounded the corner, it appeared as if I’d just exited. He smoothed the anger from his features and ended the call. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah…” My mouth parted, and I couldn’t help but stare at the sight of Gage Channing in a tux.
8. Champagne and Lust
The Sheraton Hotel hosted the company Christmas party. Gage opened the door for me and then tucked my arm in his as we approached the room where the event was being held. Everyone in the room took notice upon our arrival, but Gage was correct in people’s reactions. Apparently, Katherine’s absence served as a reminder for people to mind their own business.
Gage nuzzled my neck and spoke into my ear. “Would you like some champagne?”
I nodded, unable to speak.
He leaned into me. “Enjoy yourself tonight. You’ll have plenty of time to surrender to me later.” My breath went thready at his words. Gage planted a kiss on my cheek before heading in the direction of the bar.
The instant I was alone, Jody waltzed up to me. I’d known her for years, and it was on her referral that I’d gotten the job. I frowned when I realized we’d barely spoken, let alone spent time together, since she’d moved on from Channing Enterprises. She’d left months ago, around the time I’d been promoted to Gage’s personal assistant, to take a job as managing accountant at a smaller firm.
“Are you really dating Gage?”
My cheeks warmed. “Is that what everyone’s saying?”
She nodded. “Holy smokes, Kayla, the man is hot.” She raised her eyebrows and shot me a playful grin. “I should know—like most of the female employees at Channing Enterprises, I’ve had a turn at him.”
“Are you serious?” I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “When?”
“A few years ago. Around the time you and Rick split.”
“I hadn’t realized you’d worked for him that long.”
“Yep. I still miss it sometimes.” She gazed across the room at her date, who I vaguely recognized from the mail room. “That’s why I finagled a plus one from Rob. I couldn’t pass up this party.” She winked at me. “Good to see you again. We should do lunch sometime.”
“I’d like that.”
“Great,” she said as Rob gestured at her. “Oops, gotta go. Rob’s a hot one too, though he’s not into kink like Gage was. Is he still into that shit?” she threw the question over her shoulder.
The butt plug vibrated to life for a moment, and I gulped. Is that what they were calling it? Kink?
Gage returned a few moments later, champagne in hand. Sporting a knowing smirk, he handed me a crystal flute. “Dinner’s about to start.” He ushered me to a table. The room was decorated in whites, blacks, and silvers, with splashes of red and gold. The tables were adorned with black table cloths and silver candles. White linens accompanied the red and gold patterned china. A huge Christmas tree took up one corner of the room. Gage pulled out a chair and gestured for me to take a seat. He settled next to me and immediately placed his hand on my knee.
Two other couples joined us, and conversation revolved around work for the short period before dinner was served. As the meal wore on, Gage inched his hand up my thigh. Certain my cheeks were turning the color of tomato paste, I leaned away from him, but all that got me was a hard look and more determination on his part. He carried on his conversation easily as he forced my thighs apart.
My only defense was to focus on cutting my chicken into small bites and chewing until the meat practically slid down my throat. I bit my tongue when his fingers slipped inside my panties. His touch scorched me from the inside out, and suddenly, the heavy ache in my nipples only added fuel to his public seduction. God…armed with sexual frustration and champagne, I became dizzy with it and prayed no one would guess what was going on underneath the table. He tilted his head and gave me a knowing smile as he stroked me, spreading my wetness to my clit. His other hand disappeared under the table, and the plug vibrated to life in my ass again. I gripped my chair and took a deep breath through my nose.
“So, Kayla, how is Eve?”
What a way to douse the fire. I cast my attention on the woman across from me, and though I couldn’t remember her name, I was more than grateful for the distraction. “It’s been up and down, but her doctor is confident this new trial will help.”
Gage slid a finger inside, and a groan escaped.
The woman furrowed her brows. “Are you all right? You don’t look well, dear.”
I sprang up from the table. “I think it was something I ate. Please, excuse me.” I nearly crashed into the women’s restroom in my haste to escape Gage. A quick check of the stalls assured me I was alone. Grabbing hold of the counter, I focused on breathing and closed my eyes, but the plug still vibrated incessantly, making me moan as my insides clenched.
The door creaked open, and Gage entered. “Are you alone in here?”
I nodded.
He locked the door, and I watched his reflection wearily, wondering if I’d earned myself another punishment for bolting from the table. He stood behind me and rested his hands next to mine, caging me in between the counter and his impressive body. Pure desire reflected from his eyes in the mirror—a maniacal glint that both frightened and excited me. We said nothing as we stared at each other, and when Gage removed his hands, I didn’t dare move. He gripped my skirt and inched it up before sliding his hand beneath my panties again.
“Your eyes darken to the deepest brown when you’re turned on, did you realize that?”
“No,” I said on a moan. My head fell back against his shoulder, and his lips devoured my throat as he stroked me.
“You’re so wet, baby.”
I groaned and arched into his hand. “What are you doing to me?”
“Making you mine.” He took my mouth, and I kissed him back with abandon, chasing his tongue again and again.
“I’m losing myself to you,” I gasped, tearing my mouth from his.
“Not yet, you’re not.” He stepped away. “Come back to the table.”
Five minutes later I obeyed, only stumbling twice on my journey back to my seat. Dessert had already been served. Gage wasted no time in reclaiming the hot, damp place between my legs. He stroked me relentlessly, and not even the decadent cake had the power to distract me. By the time he pulled me into his arms on the dance floor, I’d downed four more glasses of champagne and was more than a little tipsy. Bodies flus
h, our champagne breaths mingling, I melted against him and let him pull me into the sway. Something shifted within me during that dance. For the first time, I returned his touch. Sliding my hands into his hair, I curled my fingers into the dark strands as he swept me across the room. I didn’t care if everyone was watching, if what I was doing and feeling was wrong.
And it was so wrong. Nothing about this situation should feel romanticized, but I was lost and never wanted to be found.
He tightened his arms around me, pulling me close enough that his hard-on strained against my stomach. “Wanna get out of here?”
Our faces were inches apart, and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me in front of everyone. “Yeah.”
We left in a flurry of goodbyes, and the only thing more dizzying than my champagne-induced state was the commotion of grabbing our coats. The drive back to Gage’s place was but a fuzzy memory. We stumbled through the front door, his mouth hot and wet on my throat as my thighs locked around his waist. My hands gripped his hair as he carried me through the house. Maybe later I’d question why he took me to his bedroom instead of the basement, or why he seemed so un-Gage like as he ripped the bodice of my dress in an impatient fit of desire. The material tore to my waist, exposing my clamped breasts. He yanked on the chain, propelling me toward him and the bed, and his mouth closed over an aching nipple. We shed our clothing and tumbled onto the mattress, where he wrapped my fingers around the bars of the headboard.
“Don’t let go.” His breath fanned across my face an instant before he blinded me with a silk tie. “I’m going to remove the clamps.” My heart jackhammered under his touch, and I squeezed the bars as blood rushed to my nipples, flooding them with pain.
His mouth moved over my breasts. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered.
“I want you.”
“Be specific, Kayla.”
I bent my knees and spread wide for him. “I want you inside of me.”
He pulled away, and though I couldn’t see him, I imagined him gazing down at me, eyes the color of sapphires as he savored my surrender. He splayed his hands on my inner thighs, spreading me further and torturing me with the tickle of his thumbs. “Tell me more.”