Fallen Dom

by Lexxi James

  His tone smoldered through her. “Because, Kathryn Chase, in a strange way, I understand you. And in this world, you need to be looked after. I can do that. Keep you safe and protected. Let you play. And explore.” His hand massaged her knee.

  Her lips curled up. “Like a naughty guardian angel?”

  “Naughty guardian? Yes. But you’re the only angel here.”

  She lowered her head, with both her hands now playing with his fingers. “What if I try something and don’t like it?” She shivered again.

  “You’re cold. Lie down.” Before she could shimmy back under the blanket, he said, “No. Next to me.”

  Uncertain, she felt her way forward, letting her hands travel to his chest. He pulled in a deep breath, and she got a solid feel of a man built for endurance.

  Suddenly worried, she stopped.

  His hands wrapped around her, pulling her close to him and nestling her body in his hold. His heat and strength were so strangely comforting, her tension evaporated.

  “Listen to me carefully, kitten. You’re here for my pleasure.” He kissed her forehead. “And I’m here for yours. I’m not here to push you beyond what you can handle.”

  His fingers wove through the silky strands at the nape of her neck, then closed, latching on as he pulled her head back and made every molecule of her body tingle. His next words came out on her lips.

  “My rush comes when you beg me to take you to your limit.”

  Please, she thought as her lips quivered. Take me to my limit. At least point me in that direction.

  Leaving her unkissed, he released his hold and slid his hand down her back, where he rubbed gently. “Stay curled up if you like. Tonight, and only tonight, I’m on your terms. Even if it’s just this.” At her silence, he whispered, “But there’s something else you want. Isn’t there?”

  Yes.

  Tracing figure eights across the muscles of his chest, she whispered, “There is something I’d like to try.”

  Five

  Jake sent the text from the hallway outside the hotel suite, half enjoying the thought of interrupting Paco, who was likely in a private VIP room in the hotel spa. His smile grew as he imagined the man sipping a bright pink cosmo from a chilled martini glass, lounging back for a heavenly foot massage until he snapped up at the chime of Jake’s text.

  This should get him up here in under a minute.

  JAKE: She needs you.

  He checked his watch and waited, his smile growing. In three, two, o—

  Ding.

  When the elevator opened, Jake beamed. “Right on time.”

  Paco’s eyes narrowed with concern as he stalked over. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. She’s fine. But she’s been behind that blindfold for all this time. I didn’t want her taking it off alone.”

  Paco leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, stating the obvious with a hint of mischief. “There’s no reason you couldn’t stay. Help her take it off.”

  Jake chuckled. “Funny, she said the same thing. But I’ll promise you what I promised her. Next time. If she wants to. But I want her to think it over before deciding. I slipped my number in her purse and told her she could call me. Anytime.”

  Kathryn sat on the side of the bed, as if she hadn’t moved in hours. She heard footsteps. Excited, she smiled.

  He’s back.

  “Would you like me to do the honors?” Paco’s cheerfulness was bathed in tenderness.

  Disappointed, she shook her head and tugged the soft eye mask over her head, then dropped it to her lap. The silky fabric held her aimless stare as her fingers traced the edge.

  He took a knee before her, coaxing her gaze. “Everything all right?” he asked, his subtle accent sweetening his sincerity.

  She shrugged, pulling in a shuddering breath before meeting his eyes. After a minute, three words slipped through her shy smile.

  “I want more.”

  Six

  As he strolled out of the hotel, Jake let his thoughts drift, the feel of Kathryn’s skin still fresh in his mind.

  Not to mention the sting. And the rush.

  Deep down, he knew. Returning to the cage he’d just burst free from was impossible. She was his muse, and he’d be her maker. It was more than a feeling—this was an undeniable connection drawing him back to the land of the living.

  She’d been with who knew how many men—well, not that many—but none could give her what she needed. As if her body existed only for him, in every way his touch demanded.

  Far from cold, or timid, or even shy, she’d had a white-hot flame within her, raw and ready to be unleashed.

  Or leashed. Whichever.

  He thought about it.

  A leash? Handcuffs? What would she like?

  His pulse spiked. He had to know Kathryn’s wants. Her needs. She’d be too easy to spoil. With a woman like her, he needed to pace himself. She had enough experience to know what she didn’t like, but was practically a virgin in every way that counted.

  Still, he’d been away from this life for so long. He wasn’t about to take things too quickly. Her body was begging to be his new journey . . . a feast of slow, salacious satisfaction.

  As if in a trance, he returned to his truck. He’d never recall how. Yet he could easily rattle off every dirty little item he’d scrolled through on his cell as his ass stayed planted in the driver’s seat in the parking lot.

  With Kathryn still in the hotel, he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Perusing the spicier sex paraphernalia passed the time while he waited. He had to. There was no way in hell he’d leave without knowing she was safely on her way.

  She’d clung to him until their last tender kiss. Tearing away from her lips was its own sadistic form of torture, because he sure as hell didn’t want to.

  I had to. She named her hard limit.

  I’m not breaking her trust. No sex.

  He thought it over.

  Seriously, no sex? What the hell was she thinking?

  Frustrated, he sat. His cell phone perusals were building the tension in his pants. The more he clicked and shipped this toy and that to fill his empty treasure trove, the more he was tempted to take his aching matters into his own hands.

  But he couldn’t. He needed to focus enough to look up every minute or so to make sure he didn’t miss seeing her leave.

  If he knew Paco, and he’d like to think over the past few years they’d gotten as close as people in covert circles tended to get, he could gauge Kathryn’s frame of mind by Paco’s overprotective parenting.

  If Paco was worried, he’d drive her home.

  Less worried, and he’d walk her to the car.

  Not worried at all and at her insistence, he’d let her walk out by herself.

  A moment later, out she came. On her own.

  Jake smiled as she strolled to her car, looking as fresh and sweet as he’d left her. Between the imaginative array of kinky candy filling his online cart, and watching her soft curves, pale flesh, and perfect strawberry-blonde hair spilling down her back, his bulge demanded some air.

  He undid his jeans.

  He couldn’t wait to see her again.

  If she calls.

  Of course she will.

  The wad of cash she’d tried to pass him said that much.

  It was ridiculous. And adorable.

  He chuckled at the sight of a fellow guardian keeping a watchful eye out. Paco inconspicuously spied on her from a nearby window. A text popped up on his phone.

  PACO: I see you too.

  JAKE: You know me. Trust-but-verify kind of guy. Just making sure she’s good to go.

  Do I ask or not?

  The suspense is killing me.

  What did she say?

  He waited for the bouncing bubbles to finish on the text.

  PACO: She showed me your note.

  Between his below-the-waist discomfort and Paco’s cool coyness, Jake finally texted his aggravated need-to-know in one word.

  JA
KE: And???

  He looked back up, and Paco was gone.

  Son of a bitch. That’s my move.

  JAKE: Fine. I’m both glad and perturbed at your ability to be a vault. So, fuck you. Thank you. And safe flight.

  Three emojis were texted back . . .

  A martini glass.

  A plane departing.

  And the little round winking guy blowing a kiss.

  Seven

  Stunned and thoroughly seduced, Kathryn hugged the far right lane as she drove home, barely breaking the speed limit. Her hijacked thoughts swayed back and forth to the tantalizing temptations of the past hour.

  It dawned on her there was little evidence of their encounter. The bottle of water she was still nursing. The ghost of his touch on her body. And a note he’d slipped in her purse. The little square had the hotel logo at the top, with his phone number scribbled across it and two little words:

  Kitten Tamer

  I think he means kitten trainer.

  The bashful smile previously pasted on her face widened.

  His low, dark, raspy commands echoed in her thoughts. Under his spell, she’d obeyed.

  Willingly.

  Easily.

  Without hesitation.

  On all fours, she’d crawled across his lap and waited, painfully patient as her willpower yielded and her pleasure bloomed. All from him. His power. His control. His touch. Enslaved by his unconditional hold on her hot and bothered hoo-ha, and all without actual, bona-fide sex.

  Her pussy was putty in his hands.

  He seriously needs those babies insured, she thought as her mind drifted back to their time together . . .

  He’d started slow—agonizingly slow—skating one lazy finger in a sensual trail up the back of her thigh. That same sexy finger she’d wanted to swallow whole. The way he worked it teased her with a taste of things to come, sending her straight past the cobwebs of a rarely tapped corner of her mind prominently labeled downright dirty.

  He’d insisted she stay still while he worked. The sweet torture forced her hands to fist the comforter. Her breaths became choppy, erratic. On the verge of losing all control, she squirmed, aching for more of him. He had total control, and she handed it to him, a man who knew how to take that power and bend it to satisfy her deepest yearnings.

  He could be anyone. Is that turning me on?

  Her uncontrollable whimpers grew louder.

  Definitely a turn-on.

  Feathering her skirt hem across her skin, he’d lifted it up, finally resting it across her back, exposing her butt. The cool air against her hot skin had been a relief, pushing a sigh from her throat. Her panting had become so heavy and fast, she felt dizzy and dropped her head.

  “Breathe,” he commanded in his deep voice.

  No sooner had her inhale released than she felt the sting of his hand.

  He’d slapped her ass.

  Hard.

  Her cry sliced across the room, so loud and unexpected, she’d tried holding it back. But the next smack drew out a throaty scream from her. It subsided as his hand rested across the fleshiest part of her ass, holding her skin . . . then caressing it before sliding across to the other cheek.

  His other hand had wrapped around her throat, softly stroking her after each slap. His thumb brushed across the fullness of her bottom lip.

  “More, kitten?” he’d asked, his voice raspy.

  What he asked hadn’t been a real question. Or rhetorical. He’d said it more as if they both knew. She’d been thirsting to death on a desert island, and her body wanted to plunge into the deep end of this clear blue pool.

  “Please,” she’d begged before sucking the thumb he’d pressed into her mouth.

  As he delivered fierce smacks across her other cheek, her moaning sounded as if his thumb were covered in decadent dark chocolate.

  Ready, she arched her back to receive another smack, and he’d dropped it so swiftly, a shudder cascaded from her dizzy head to her curling toes.

  Much too soon, he pulled his thumb from her mouth and draped her skirt back over her stinging buttocks. Her head dropped as she struggled to keep herself up on all fours.

  Without warning, he’d moved her to her back on the bed. Before she could ask, she’d been covered by the blanket again. With a tender kiss, it was over.

  Half-panicked, she’d asked, “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No,” he’d insisted, taking her hand and brushing his hot lips against her fingers. “You’re perfect. And I’m human. It’s time to stop. You have all you need to think things over.”

  With another kiss, both her breath and his deflated at the bittersweet judgment call.

  How she’d gotten home, Kathryn couldn’t say, but before she knew it, her car pulled into the garage at the back of her condo. Killing the engine, she did out of habit. Aimlessly sitting there was out of necessity. Preoccupied, she continued in a weak attempt to process it all.

  The lurid spanking session had left her . . . addicted.

  He’s right. A BDSM dime bag was just the taste I needed to think things through.

  She resigned herself to the only conclusion. I’m a sub.

  And he was a god, a nameless, faceless stranger who lifted her sky high by commanding her to her knees. She’d give anything to feel the smack of his big, hot palm against her needy backside again.

  What’s a good cooling-off period before I call?

  He said call or text anytime.

  Is that an hour? A day? More than a day?

  Do I ask about his day?

  Is this “dating”?

  Tearing herself from the eternal treadmill of wandering thoughts, she finally got out of the car with a mental note to text Paco in the morning. Maybe there were books she could read, something like Ground Rules for Doms and subs, or Delving into BDSM for Dummies.

  Deep in her thoughts, she walked on autopilot into the condo. Without thinking, she entered the dark but familiar hallway, dropping her purse and keys on the counter. She kicked off the mistake of a shoe buy and relaxed her feet on the cool tile of the floor.

  My notebook. All her interviews had pages of chicken scratch and doodles, until she transferred her notes to her laptop. The six-by-nine, dollar-store notebook had at least two hours’ worth of work waiting for her.

  But it was safely tucked away in the pocket of the driver’s-side door of her car. And her feet were insistently steered in the direction of the bathroom.

  It can definitely wait. There’s no way I’m tackling work tonight. First things first.

  She needed a shower, if for no other reason than to tango with the detachable showerhead and finish the job started by her ringmaster. Stepping farther inside, she flipped on the lights.

  Then froze.

  Her home was a disaster. Sofa cushions and pillows were scattered across the floor. Every drawer of her desk had been pulled out and flipped upside down. A disaster zone that could only mean one thing.

  I’ve been robbed.

  Distressed, she whirled around to grab the phone from her purse. A moment later, she felt it. For the second time that night, someone landed a blow on her body, but this time to her skull, knocking her to the floor.

  Curled up and clutching her head, she slumped on the tile, overcome by confusion for a few seconds before she was swallowed by darkness.

  Eight

  “We’ll do our best to find the assailant,” Detective Scott Delaney said, reassuring her.

  Kathryn admired his salt-and-pepper hair, trimmed high and tight around his ears. Military cut. “You a vet?”

  He nodded, a smile replacing his stoic expression. “Navy back in the day. You?”

  “Army.” Grinning, she exchanged a glance of unspoken competitiveness with him. “Well, since you’re helping me catch the scumbag who blindsided me, I’ll hold off on giving you too much crap for the poor decisions of your youth.”

  He chuckled. “Hey, I’m proud of every one of my questionable choices, and have the tat
toos to prove it. Say what you will, but the Navy always gave me assignments with an ocean view.”

  “You got me beat there. And envious. I never got a chance to see the ocean, though I flew over several back and forth to the desert.” Her expression fell as she steadied herself in a short stride to the freezer. An ice pack would quiet the persistent throbbing of her head.

  “You all right?” he asked. “I can call a paramedic.”

  “I’m fine. Just need to reduce the swelling,” she said as he helped her to the sofa.

  “Well, looks like they got in through an unlocked window off the balcony. Seems to be a lot of trouble for a standard break-in. Once you do an inventory, let us know what’s missing. But you said nothing’s gone from your purse?”

  She nodded, keeping the cold gel pack on the pounding knot at the back of her head. “Most of it. All my credit cards and cash are still there, but I usually keep a few business cards handy. They’re gone. Or, at least I thought I still had a few in there. And my laptop is missing. It was on my desk.”

  The detective motioned to the forensics team, showing them where to dust for prints. “The chances of us getting your computer back is a long shot.”

  She dropped the ice pack and raised her head. “I’m not worried about it. Nothing’s on it. It’s a shell. Everything is uploaded to a virtual desktop in the cloud. My company will just issue me another one, and all my information will be magically available as soon as I log in. Basically, they got away with a fancy four-pound paperweight. I’ve got more technology in my phone than on that system.”

  “Well, you probably scared them off before they took more.” Delicately, he touched her shoulder. “You sure I can’t take you to a doctor?”

  She nodded with a weak smile. “I’m okay. I used to be a nurse. No impact to my vision. No slurring of speech. I know the date. Bush is still president, right?”