by Hélène Soper
“Red, Sir.”
“Good girl. If at any time you wish to stop, you must use your safeword. There is no shame in using your safeword. If you want to modify what I’m doing without stopping the scene, you must use Yellow. You’re welcome to use Green if you’re enjoying something in particular and would like to increase the intensity. You have the control. The final say. I’ve been informed that your hard limits are permanent marks, blood play, and needle play. Intercourse is a soft limit. Do you want to modify your limits or have any questions?”
“No, Sir!”
“Excellent. Stand.”
He placed his hand under her elbow to guide her to her feet. Being blindfolded with hands bound behind the back could be tough on the equilibrium. He knew Gryff explained that a simple gesture like this added a brick to the foundation of trust built between the Dom and sub. It demonstrated to the sub she was safe in his care. Not that Luc wanted to build trust with Lily, but he needed to remember his job in this scene.
Slowly, Luc circled her, invaded her personal space, observed every little nuance of her body. The pulse point on the slope of her neck quickened as he scanned her from head to toe. Her lips plumped and nipples hardened in anticipation. Luc hoped like hell she didn’t recognize him.
He grazed his fingers down her arms to the fur-lined cuffs securing her hands behind her back. With a sharp click he released one. Then the other. The clank of metal reverberated in the quiet room as the cuffs hit the floor. Lily startled. Good. He needed to keep her out of her head and in the moment. He took each hand in his and gently massaged her wrists and forearms to get the circulation flowing again.
“Take off your robe. Leave the shoes on.”
Without hesitation, she undid the belt and let the robe glide down her shoulders and arms, catching it in her hands behind her waist in a practiced move. She folded the sheer fabric into a neat square and held it on outstretched hands. Luc accepted the offering and placed it on the edge of the counter near the door.
Lily stood in the center of the room unabashedly naked. He stepped behind her, inches separating them, and traced her waist with his fingers. He outlined the jutting bones of her hips and glided his hands up her torso to cup her full breasts. Augmented reality so wasn’t his thing.
He stroked the soft flesh, careful to avoid her areolas, and brushed the backs of his hands against the sensuous side curves and back down over her hips. Her shoulders and neck relaxed as her nipples hardened into little pebbles. Without warning, he firmly pinched both nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. Lily gasped and arched into his hands. A soft purr emanated from the back of her throat as pain gave way to pleasure.
“You like a bit of pain don’t you, sub?”
“Yes, Sir. More, please, Sir,” she said as she ground her ass into his crotch.
Lily knew how to arouse a man, but she also knew that topping from the bottom was not acceptable behavior.
He broke contact.
A barely audible sound of displeasure escaped before she could stifle her reaction.
“I’m in control here, sub. I will determine what you will receive from me and when you will receive it. You need to be punished for that lapse.”
“Yes, Sir!”
Her breathing became shallow and ragged. Luc could smell her arousal. He took her elbow and led her to the sawhorse-shaped spanking bench. With a firm push between her shoulder blades, she lowered herself into position — head down, ass up.
Kneeling near her head, Luc placed her right arm in line with the front right leg of the bench then fastened her wrist to it with a fleece-lined leather restraint. He moved to the other side and fastened her left wrist to the other front leg of the bench.
“Do you enjoy being punished, sub?” he whispered into her ear. “Should I use my hand or a crop?”
He quickly stood, took the crop in his hand, and expertly placed a red stripe on her left ass cheek. Luc knew what she wanted. Lily was a bit of a pain slut, so impact play wasn’t punishment, especially if he amped up the intensity.
Luc landed another swat parallel to the first, then rained down three more, careful to not hit the same spot twice and with just enough force designed to frustrate, not arouse her. He smoothed his palm over the marks and blew a whisper of a breath over the sensitive flesh. Her skin came alive with goose bumps as she sucked in a shallow breath through her teeth. It wasn’t enough stimulation for Lily, exactly what Luc was going for. She squirmed, trying to rub her clit against the leather bench, striving for the friction she needed to take her over the edge.
“Stay still, sub.”
“Yes, Sir.”
She wasn’t in the zone yet.
Luc repeated the crop-caress cycle five more times.
“Thank you, Sir.” She could barely get the words out as she strained toward an orgasm that was a hairsbreadth out of reach.
“Don’t come until I give you permission, sub.”
“Y-e-s, Master.”
“I’m not your Master. You will call me Sir.” Exasperation laced Luc’s tone. Lily’s attempts to top from the bottom would provide ample learning opportunities for the trainees, but it pissed him off. Master Luc was always in complete control of any scene. Why did he allow her to get to him?
The problem was his head was entirely elsewhere. With every touch, every breath, every sound Lily made, he imagined it was Avery bent over the spanking bench. Finally, his dick came to life with the image in his head of a different blonde, not the one in front of him. Lily certainly wasn’t doing it for him. In fact, he wondered how she had done it for him in the past.
“Yes, Sir.”
Luc returned the crop to the counter and chose his next toy, forcing himself to focus on Marlowe and Gryff’s trainees behind the glass. He selected a vibrator and stepped to the end of the bench.
“Are you wet for me, sub?” He stroked down her back with the pad of his middle finger to the cleft of her ass and through her wetness.
He touched her mound with the dildo-shaped vibrator, traced small circles against her labia, purposefully avoiding her clit. She tried to push back to get him to put it inside her, but he continued to tease.
“Patience, sub. I will decide what you will be given, and you will take it to please me.”
“Yeeesss, Sir!”
“Is this what you want?” He pumped the vibe in and out of her channel. Lily matched his rhythm as much as she could, given her restraints.
“Yes, Master. Fuck me! Fuck me now!”
Luc knew he was not going to fuck her any time soon, in fact, never again. He stopped and withdrew the vibe until just the tip remained inside her. Her penance for continuing to top from the bottom even after his warning. Orgasm denial was effective punishment for many subs, especially Lily.
After several minutes, he thrust the vibe to the hilt, stepped back, and clicked a small remote in his pocket. The hum of the vibe matched Lily’s cries as she squirmed more frantically, doing anything to push herself over the edge. He knew he needed to fill the scene with teachable moments for Gryff, the reality was he couldn’t wait for it to end. That was a first.
“I haven’t given you permission to come, sub.”
“Pleeeese, Sir. I need more,” she panted out as a sheen of perspiration surfaced across her skin.
Luc slowly, deliberately, walked over to the counter to pick up a smaller crop. He used the folded leather tip to trace patterns on the soles of her feet, up the inside of her leg, across her pert ass then down the inside of the other leg as the vibe continued to pulse in her pussy. A full-body shiver enveloped her as she clung to the edge of orgasm.
Luc slapped her clit with the tip of the crop. “Come now.”
Lily exploded. But it was Avery’s cry of “Luc” that resounded in his head. His vision blurred. Lily’s blonde hair became Avery’s blonde hair. Lily’s voice became Avery’s voice.
Luc tore open the laces of his leathers, sheathed himself, pulled out the vibe and positioned himse
lf at Lily’s entrance. He anchored his fist in her long blonde hair to give himself leverage.
“I knew you wanted to fuck me again. Sir.” Lily’s repellent smile and nauseating voice snapped Luc’s attention back to the woman in front of him.
“Goddamnit!”
Luc disposed of the unused condom and fastened his leathers as he clamored from the room. He motioned to Trent to provide her aftercare. He couldn’t stand to look at her. Luc barely got two steps into the hallway before Gryff barreled out of the viewing room.
“What the fuck?” Gryff’s long strides closed the gap between them.
“Not. Now.”
Luc tried to keep stalking toward the locker room but Gryff grabbed Luc’s shoulders, spun them both, and slammed his back against the wall.
“Who the hell was that guy in there? Your head was completely somewhere else. We never leave a sub restrained and alone. What about her aftercare? That’s not how I run my training class. More importantly, that’s not how a Master treats a sub.”
Luc put both his hands on Gryff’s shoulders and pushed his friend backward against the opposite wall. “Get the fuck off me!” Luc spat in his friend’s face. “I gave you enough to work with. Let. Me. Go.”
Gryff was having none of that. He stood between the locker room and Luc, hands on his hips, his cop scowl on his face, effectively blocking his best friend’s escape route.
“Not good enough. We’ve known each other too long. That was not Master Luc in there. Talk. Now.”
Gryff softened his face and stance. Luc’s shoulders sagged, his head dropped forward, and he leaned back against the wall.
“I know her. The sub. Lily. She’s a pain slut. We played in Toronto, but she knows the drill — once and done. She tried to push for more, but I put a stop to that shit. Or I thought I did.” Luc blew out a heavy sigh and sought his friend’s eyes, for what, he wasn’t sure. “It gets worse. All I could think about in there was what it would be like to have Avery on that bench.” Luc shook his head, disappointed in himself.
“Oh shit.” Gryff brushed his hand down his face. “Like I said, Avery isn’t into the lifestyle anymore. She’s had too much crap in her life. She won’t be able to handle your dark side. Get her out of your head.”
Marlowe stalked toward them, jaw set, eyes wide and unrelenting.
“Master Luc. My office. Ten minutes.”
Luc changed into his street clothes and headed upstairs. He stood in the office doorway while Marlowe surveyed the main play room through the large one-way glass that dominated the far wall. She kept her back to him. He’d never been called into this office for a disciplinary matter by Rick or Marlowe. Tonight was full of firsts.
“Sit down.”
Marlowe strode from the window to behind her desk but remained standing, the power position. Luc knew that game well and knew who was in control of this meeting. He sat.
“Care to tell me what the hell that was about?”
“Not really.”
Marlowe gave him a half smile as if she knew that would be his response.
“Let’s try this again, Master Luc. Explain your unprofessional behavior with Miss Baranova.”
This time it wasn’t a request. He sighed, resigned that he needed to come clean. Thankfully, Marlowe accepted his explanation with a warning to not repeat his performance under her roof or risk his Master status. Masters were known for their expert self-control, and Luc was among the best. Until tonight.
He couldn’t get out of the House fast enough, which in itself was a strange feeling. Something about hearing Lily’s last name got his brain firing. He couldn’t put his finger on it but felt it was familiar. He attributed it to an intense evening of confusing emotions.
Maybe Gryff was right. Luc wasn’t ready to be the man or Dom Avery apparently needed. Avery deserved to find a whole man who could love her, support her, and guide her through her submissive journey, should she want to go there again. Losing control with Lily confirmed his friend’s fears — he could play with experienced subs who would give him the release he needed without tampering with his finely crafted tower of solitude. He would uphold his obligation for the interview with Avery, but nothing more. More would destroy his carefully constructed existence. More would betray his vows with his wife. More would risk ripping his heart out again.
8
Avery arrived at Sky Hill to find staff photographer and friend Rae Powell’s car already in the parking lot. She grabbed her purse, jumped out of her car, and practically sprinted to the winery’s front door. Butterflies danced in her stomach, and not a simple two-step. It felt more like a complicated lyrical number with hands and feet jutting out at odd angles, poking and prodding her organs. She opened the heavy door and walked into the foyer to find Rae talking with a tall, dark-haired, muscular man. Luc. Rae’s friendly face popped to the side of his broad shoulder to smile at her, kind of like a lopsided adult jack-in-the-box.
“There she is,” Rae said. Her infectious smile beamed Avery’s way.
“Am I late?”
Luc turned to greet Avery, and in one graceful, fluid motion reached for her hand, pulled her flush against his body, kissed both her cheeks, and granted her a smile that curled her toes.
“You’re right on time, Avery,” Luc said. That famous Luc Christianson warm smile made the character lines at the corners of his eyes crinkle in a sinfully, sexy way.
And then there was his voice. A voice that could melt the bark off a tree, or the panties off a cheerleader, back in the day. A full body flush crawled up from her feet to the tips of her ears, blazing a path of heat in its wake.
“Gen’s in the conference room and my father’s on the line. If you’re both ready, we can head in.”
“Lead the way.” Avery managed to get the words out despite her lungs apparently forgetting how to work. She could barely control herself near him. Rae smirked as they walked out of the tasting room down a hallway of offices. It completely sucked having a friend who could read you like a book. The fact that Luc never broke contact with her as they walked to the conference room was more than enough for Rae’s imagination to ignite with all cylinders firing.
Avery spent the next hour asking questions about transitioning from one generation to the next in a small family business while Rae took candid shots.
“Thank you so much for your time today. You certainly gave me a lot of material for my story. I really appreciate it.”
“Our pleasure, Avery. Any time,” Billy said then hung up the call.
“Now it’s my turn,” Rae said to Luc and Gen. “Can we go to the tasting room to get an action shot of the two of you at the tasting bar?”
Luc swept his hand toward the door as if to say, “After you.” Avery smiled and proceeded toward the door. As she passed Luc, he moved to her side and placed his hand at the small of her back. It felt warm, comfortable, protective. She could easily get used to that feeling.
They followed Gen and Rae to the tasting bar. Avery didn’t want to lose the physical connection with Luc, but she knew Rae had a job to do. She hung back as Rae set up the shot and worked the camera angles a few different ways. It was going to be fun perusing those shots to pick her favorite to run with her story.
The sun was starting to set so the building lights came on. She hadn’t realized the time. Rae excused herself to head off to another location, and Gen said something about packing and getting on the road.
“Do you need me for anything else, Luc?” a young man from the wine shop asked.
“I don’t think so. Thanks for asking. Go ahead and shut down then head out. I’ll do the final lock up,” Luc said. He looked over to Avery and asked, “Do you have a few minutes? We’re working on a new wine I would love to get your opinion on.”
“Sounds like fun. Tonight is grandma-granddaughter night with dance class, dinner, and a sleepover so I’m all yours.”
Luc’s eyebrow peaked, and his eyes darkened as he looked down upon her.
&
nbsp; “Be careful when you say things like that to me, little one. I may just have to take you up on it.”
A delicious, heated sensation wended its way from Avery’s core out to each of her fingers and toes, leaving them aching to touch Luc’s taut skin that hinted at the well-honed muscles underneath.
She tried to appear in control of her body, to come across as confident and playful. “You certainly know how to arouse my interest, Mr. Christianson.” Instead, her voice squeaked like a horny teenager.
Luc slid his arm around the back of her waist and pulled her flush against his hard body. She gasped. Just being close to him had electricity zapping through her muscles, twitching as if they couldn’t help but telegraph all her insecurities. So much for coming across as an all-that-and-a-bag-of-chips confident woman. To make matters worse, or better, depending on your perspective, Luc’s other hand stroked up the nape of her neck, fisted her hair and pulled her head back exposing her neck while angling her face to look up at him. The flare of desire in his eyes both shocked and aroused Avery. Her body softened into him, as if each cell was drawn to his so they could merge into a single, radiant entity. She was awed to be the focus of this strong, successful, sexy man. It made her self-doubt shrink into the nether.
Avery’s need to feel Luc’s lips on hers overwhelmed her. Her breath came in short bursts as her lungs anticipated him stealing her air. Her nipples hardened as blood filled them and pulsed in time with her heartbeat. But, instead of claiming her lips, he dropped sensuous kisses down her neck, nipped the skin above her collarbone, traced a path across her jaw, and laid a trail of more kisses up the other side, ending by flicking his tongue against the pulse point behind her ear.
“God, Luc, that feels so good.”
Luc’s shaft pulsed against her stomach.
“I’ve been wanting to do this since you walked into the winery. You taste and smell so delicious. There is nothing I want more, in this moment, than to spread you on the bar and taste every inch of your exquisite body.”