A breath shuddered through her as his presence filled the emptiness and went further yet, melting away her icy defenses. With trembling fingers, she laid her palm on the side of his face and felt his cheek curve with his smile.
Chapter Fourteen
Physically satisfied and emotionally unsettled, Abby sat on her bed, chin resting on her knees. Color filled the rustic, one-room cabin, from the blue and white quilt to the multicolored rag rugs. Outside, the wind sloughed through the surrounding pine and fir trees. The mountain was a very peaceful place.
Well, when the inhabitants weren’t indulging in war games.
Although she’d hoped Xavier would stay with her, one of the Masterson brothers had dragged him away, wanting to “pick his brains” about a business problem. Odd, that. What would a BDSM club owner know about a wilderness guide business? Rather than waiting, she and Rona had taken Simon’s car to Serenity Lodge to check in and get cleaned up.
She shifted on the bed, and the lingering tenderness between her legs reminded her of the feel of the anal plug and how Xavier’s cock had filled her…and how he’d driven her to an orgasm that sent heat through her every time she thought about it.
He hadn’t pulled away after sex this time. In fact, on the hayride back, he’d held her on his lap so firmly that she’d felt safe and happy and wonderfully within his power.
“Now why does that seem so…satisfying?” she asked. The bobcat in the painting on the log wall ignored her. Snooty cat. Her puppies had better manners; they’d listen.
Okay, think it through. Being held by a man was nice. She and Nathan had cuddled on the couch when they watched movies.
But Xavier’s actions were more…dominant. He’d pull her into his arms without asking, arrange her, and touch her how he wanted, and with every further evidence of his control she’d melt into him a little more. He’d known. His faint half smile and the warmth in his eyes said that seeing her submit pleased him.
She wasn’t sure it pleased her. More like scared her. A lot. Her emotions were dragging her toward him in a way she’d never felt before. Not even with Nathan.
Was the attraction to Xavier only because he was more powerful than Nathan? Maybe her feelings didn’t have anything to do with affection. Maybe she was experiencing the basic reaction of a submissive to an over-the-top Dominant.
Come to think of it, she’d first been attracted to Nathan because he liked to take charge, and that side of his nature had given her a thrill. She stared down at her hands. So…as a submissive, she’d reacted to Nathan. But she’d also liked his company, his intelligence, the control he had over his emotions. But was that all? She winced. Had she thought she loved him when it was really friendship—and a few zings from being submissive?
Her desire for Nathan had decreased every time Xavier had held her. Touched her. Kissed her.
She frowned at the cabin, wishing futilely for a pot of tea to help her think.
Whatever she and Nathan had had between them didn’t really matter, did it? In the fall, she’d see if they could still be friends.
After a glance at the bedside clock, she jumped off the bed and walked over to her bags. Time to get dressed for the evening.
Maybe there would be more sex. She grinned. She’d never figured she had much of a libido, but Xavier had sure changed her mind. She had to wonder, though—could anyone even walk when these weekends were over?
She’d loved watching him at the Mastersons’ barbecue. She’d rather thought that the Dark Haven members put him at the top of the hierarchy because he owned the club. But at the Mastersons’, even strangers had shown the same deference. My liege simply radiated confidence and power.
When a girlie sigh escaped her, she rolled her eyes in disgust, then laughed.
Abby picked up her new bustier, set it to one side, and looked at the choices for the lower half. Black skirt. Jeans. They’d seemed adequate before—but not for Xavier.
A tap on the heavy oak door sent her heart soaring for a moment until she realized the light knock sounded feminine. Not Xavier. Nonetheless, a diversion would be very welcome. She opened the door to her two friends.
“Hi.” She smiled at Rona and then checked Lindsey’s face. “Are you all right? I saw that deVries had shot you.” The Enforcer wouldn’t have gone easy on her.
“He sure did. Mitchell too. You know, the Aussie dude?”
“Two men?” Abby swallowed. “Seriously, did they—”
“I’m fine. DeVries got an emergency phone call and had to leave.” She snickered. “He was sure aggravated.”
Rona pursed her lips. “I haven’t heard such cursing since an OR nurse knocked over a tray of sterile instruments.”
“Oh.” Abby let out her breath and eyed Lindsey. “So are we happy about this?”
“We are. Lord have mercy, can you imagine taking two guys when one is the Enforcer? No way. Besides, Mitchell was mighty creative without any help.” Lindsey looked as contented as a puppy after a full bottle.
“Good.” Abby paused. “So what about deVries?”
“Well…” Lindsey bit her lip.
Rona answered. “He gave her a kiss hot enough to melt glaciers, then said she owed him her mouth and her ass. And he damn well intended to collect.”
“Maybe you should consider joining a different club,” Abby said, half seriously.
Rona laughed. “We’re dressing in Becca’s place. Grab your makeup and tonight’s clothes, and let’s go.”
“That would be wonderful.” Abby turned back to her cabin. Was this another way in which the BDSM people created their tribe or family bonds? It made her think of Little Women and how the sisters always dressed together. A pang bit at her; she’d never gotten to enjoy that ritual. Janae had hated her, and Grace had been too young.
Becca and Logan’s apartment took up half the second floor of the massive lodge. Kallie and Summer were already in the bedroom, vying for space at the sink and dressing table, using curling irons and straighteners.
In a comfortable armchair, Becca rested her hands on her round stomach and supervised. A massive Maine coon cat sprawled on the bed, occasionally turning a black-tufted ear to listen.
After greetings were exchanged, Abby laid her clothes on the bed and looked around. Comfortable and rustic. But there was only one bedroom in the apartment. “Are you going to be short on space when the baby comes?” she asked Becca.
“Jake and Kallie are building another cabin on the other side of the grounds. When it’s done, Logan and I will take over the whole second floor.”
“Oh, that’ll be nice.” Abby stripped off her T-shirt and bra.
In the bathroom, Kallie carefully stroked mascara on her lashes. “I get the best of both worlds—my own house and close enough to scarf down Becca’s cooking.”
“I can’t believe you’re not a trillion pounds, the way you eat.” Becca scowled at Kallie, then down at her own stomach. “Me? I gain a pound from just sniffing a doughnut. And now I resemble the Goodyear blimp.”
“You are not a blimp.” The growling retort came from the door, and Abby squeaked, pulling a shirt in front of her bare chest.
Logan stalked into the bedroom and took Becca by the shoulders. “You’re not only a stunningly beautiful woman, but when a man looks at you now, he sees a fertility goddess.” His hard blue eyes lightened as he caressed her stomach. “For a millennium, men worshipped women who looked like you. As it happens, some of us still do.”
When Becca’s green eyes pooled with tears, Abby’s did the same. How could a man who seemed so mean be so sweet?
Shaking his head, he wiped his wife’s tears away and kissed the tip of her nose, then murmured, “If I hear that blimp word again, I’ll spank your ass. Carefully, of course.”
After retrieving a pair of black jeans and a leather vest from the dresser, he glanced at Abby and grinned. “No need to cover those pretty breasts, sugar. I not only saw them earlier, but I daresay Xavier will have them on display befor
e the night is over.”
She felt her cheeks turn scarlet.
As he strode out, Becca pointed at Abby. “Your face…”
The others were grinning, and Abby shook her head. “I can’t get used to all this display stuff.”
“Visual creatures, men.” Tapping her chin absently, Rona studied her two choices of dresses on the bed. “In a way, the lifestyle is good for women. We’re far too used to hiding behind our clothes and makeup. A BDSM scene strips more than emotions away. And when you’re naked with mascara smeared over your face, it’s a revelation to discover that the Dom still likes what he sees. That you can turn him on without the trappings.”
Becca grinned and agreed. “Have you ever noticed how they all go brain-dead at the sight of breasts?”
That got a chorus of snickers.
“Even mine,” Kallie said, patting her small chest as she left the bathroom. With her tiny size and short, waiflike hair, she reminded Abby of the big-eyed hobbit children in Lord of the Rings. Wearing a stiff leather corset that made the most of her bosom, a long skirt, and strappy stilettos that shouted fuck me, she turned in a circle for Becca.
Becca looked her over. “Perfect.”
Rona finally decided on a strapless vinyl dress in a golden color that matched her choker. Black ribbon bows held the sides of the dress a few inches apart. “Simon likes untying things.”
“That’s a great outfit.” Becca sighed and cast a rueful look at her stomach. “I miss sexy clothing.”
Lindsey popped out of the bathroom, her shoulder-length hair in bouncy pigtails, wearing a short plaid skirt and a white shirt with the tails tied. “One schoolgirl fixin’ to report to class.” She grinned at Rebecca. “When Rona told me you were preggers and didn’t know what to wear, I brought an outfit for you. We can go downstairs together.” She held up another plaid skirt altered to tie at the waist and a white maternity blouse. “Do you figure Headmaster Logan will punish my classmate for getting herself pregnant?”
Becca stared at the clothes for a second and burst into laughter. “Absolutely.”
Kallie shook her head. “Girl, you won’t be able to sit down for a week.”
Abby frowned at the delighted anticipation on Becca’s face. Some submissives in Dark Haven had craved getting smacked, and it never quite made sense.
“Oh, someone looks confused,” Rona commented. “No spankings or floggings before?”
“Um. I’ve collected a few swats from Xavier now and then.” Nathan had wanted to spank her once, and Abby had flat-out refused. Although the thought of Xavier doing more…
“Not the same.” Kallie crawled onto the bed and grimaced when the corset defeated any slouching. The cat set a fist-sized paw on her knee to remind her of her duties. As Kallie rubbed its head, she mused, “Maybe I should give Xavier a hint that–”
“You will not,” Abby snapped, using the autocratic tone and menacing frown that she’d perfected in her first year of teaching. Still works.
Kallie’s mouth dropped open. “You’re a Domme? I thought—”
“Teacher.” Abby gave her a smug smile. “I got my doctorate so early, I was the same age as the undergrads I was teaching, so I needed the Stare of Death.”
“Early, huh.” Becca frowned. “I had a youngster in my dorm. When my friends and I were drinking and dating, she was still learning to deal with hormones and breasts.”
“That’s how it was.” She’d sat alone, watching the “normal” college girls having fun. They hadn’t invited Abby to join them any more than they’d have welcomed their kid sisters.
Kallie reached over her cat to squeeze Abby’s hand. “It was bad being a tomboy, but being younger than everybody must have sucked.”
This was what she’d missed out on in college. The fun and teasing and advice. And sympathy. Abby blinked and looked down at the shirt she still clasped to her chest.
“So is that what you’re gonna wear, youngster?” Lindsey asked lightly. “I’m telling you, my liege won’t approve of a T-shirt.”
Abby gave her a grateful smile. “Really? I thought he’d love it.”
“Better stick to your bustier.” Becca nodded at Abby’s clothing on the bed. “And I have a skirt you’ll love. I’m sure not going to wear it this year.”
* * * *
An hour later Abby followed the other women down the stairs and halted in awe.
The huge room had been transformed into a dungeon with freestanding Saint Andrew’s crosses. Chains dangled from the heavy rafters; steel rings studded the log walls. A sex sling hung at the far end. The reception desk had inset D rings and was covered with a rubber-backed blanket. Coffee tables and couches had straps around the legs.
A small fire in the massive stone fireplace heated the room against the mountain chill. Amber-colored glass in wall lanterns spilled flickering light and left some areas in shadow.
A touch of anxiety ran up her spine. This was very different from the big Dark Haven dungeon. Smaller. Fewer people. More…personal or something.
“Amazing how a few chains can change the ambience, isn’t it?” Rona came down the stairs and stopped beside her.
Near the door, Simon spotted his wife and strolled over. In an apparent concession to the rustic surrounding, he’d worn a white shirt and tailored slacks, without a suit coat. A gleam lit his eyes at the sight of the bows running down the sides of Rona’s dress. “That’s very nice, lass,” he said, tugging one open.
She slapped at his hands. “I should have tied them in knots.”
“Even better. I haven’t played with knives in a while.” He caught and kissed Rona’s hand, holding her gaze in a way that made Abby sigh.
Would she ever have anyone who looked at her like that? Wistfully she turned away and fidgeted with her clothes. Her new dark-red bustier had black lacing she’d half undone to display a good amount of cleavage. But Rebecca’s ankle-length skirt perfected the outfit completely. Somehow the black fabric had been sliced to shredded paper widths from hip to ankle. With such tantalizing glimpses of private areas, a man wouldn’t even notice the width of the wearer’s hips.
Simon turned to her. “You look enchanting. I know some Doms who would be delighted to meet you. Or are you waiting for Xavier?”
“I’m not sure.” Xavier hadn’t mentioned tonight. Obviously she should have asked. “I’ll wander for a while and get the lay of the land.”
Simon ran a hand down her arm. “All right. But Abby, I consider you under my protection. You’re a big girl, so you may negotiate on your own behalf, but use my name if anyone gives you trouble. And I’m here if you want me to monitor a scene. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The lodge’s safe word is the usual, red.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good enough.”
She moved toward the center of the room, realizing she wasn’t wearing Xavier’s collar. Her legs felt shaky as if someone had taken away much-needed crutches.
As more people arrived, the music shifted to Whip Culture, and the Hunt brothers seemed to be everywhere. Jake was helping a Dom with a suspension setup. Nearby, Logan was introducing a Dark Haven submissive to a local Domme. Slowly the equipment began to get used, and Abby wandered from one scene to another. A couple of Doms approached her, but she fended them off with “Later.”
After an hour her spirits were sinking, and she dropped down on the leather couch to stare at the fire. Xavier hadn’t arrived. For all she knew, he’d gone back to San Francisco.
Should I play without him? He’d been clear they weren’t exclusive or anything. Maybe she should try a scene with someone else, just to see what it was like. The thought wasn’t very palatable, though.
“Abby?” A man’s voice. Familiar. Shocked.
Her head came up. “Nathan. What are you doing here?”
His gaze ran over her clothing, and his blue eyes widened. “I could ask you the same.” Dressed in a leather jacket and black leather pants, he took a
seat beside her.
Her brain felt as if it had started to spin. “Simon invited me. Did your summer term get cut short? Are you back for good?”
“No, I’m here for only a couple of days.” He looked away. “You know how I like mountains. Since the Hunts plan to turn this into a family lodge, they’ll have fewer parties, and I wanted to get this one in.”
The pleasure—and discomfort—at seeing him seemed to be on a winding drive through her emotions.
Taking her hand, he smiled. “Our last conversation must have gotten through to you. I can’t believe you went so far as to join a BDSM club to learn to meet my needs.”
True, she’d planned that at one time, but… “Well—”
“Maybe our relationship wasn’t as hopeless as I thought.” He rose. “I want to do a scene with you.”
He tugged her toward the back. Backing her up to a Saint Andrew’s cross, he pulled his favorite metal handcuffs from his jacket pocket.
I hate handcuffs. With difficulty, she smothered the urge to refuse. She had experience now. Had been restrained before. And she’d just been wondering how she’d really felt about him—and about Xavier. Maybe she owed it to them both to try again. After all, she’d also been unconvinced about Xavier at first.
But wasn’t Nathan supposed to ask her what she’d permit in a scene?
A handcuff snicked on her left wrist, and he clipped it to the upper arm of the X-shaped frame. He pulled out another set of handcuffs and did her right wrist.
Her discomfort increased. With Xavier she’d often—always—felt anxious about what he had planned, but never unsafe. Why was this different? She’d known Nathan far longer.
He stared down his nose at her. “Okay, slut.” His voice was rougher. Meaner. “You’re going to take what I give you, and I don’t want any back talk from you. Nod if you understand.”
She nodded, but being called names made her more uncomfortable than if someone had poured ants down her clothes. Too many memories lingered of her father’s screaming.
My Liege of Dark Haven Page 17