Under His Command (Six-Alarm Sexy)

by Kristine Cayne

  The anxiety in Chloe’s voice felt like salt on a wound. She couldn’t let her daughter keep thinking Jamie had walked out on them. “Daddy didn’t leave because he wanted to. He left because I asked him to.”

  “You didn’t like him anymore?”

  How could she explain this to a child when she barely understood it herself? “There were some things I didn’t like, but I know now that Mommy and Daddy were confused.”

  “I don’t want Daddy to ever leave again.”

  Neither did she. “I’m doing everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen. Ever. So have fun with everyone, and listen to Grandma and Grandpa. We want your leg to heal quickly so we can go on that trip to Disneyland. Remember?”

  “All three of us?”

  “All three of us.”

  “Yay!”

  “I’ll talk to you again in a few days. I love you, sweetheart.”

  “I love you too. And Daddy.”

  Erica blew Chloe a kiss and hung up the phone. The breakfast Jamie had ordered sat virtually untouched. Picking up the fork, she speared a chunk of bright green kiwi. The mix of sweet and tart livened up her taste buds and made her stomach growl.

  She polished off the fruit and muffins, thinking about Jamie. She loved him, but would that be enough to cement their relationship? It hadn’t been before. When he’d mentioned that woman—Andrea—and his other women, his subs, he’d admitted that love had never factored into those relationships. Despite that, those women had given him something he needed: control. If she gave him that, would it be enough? He had a lot of experience with BDSM, and she had none, other than the fictionalized accounts she’d read in erotic novels. Reading about it had been exciting. Titillating. Would it be that way in reality as well? What if it wasn’t? She didn’t want to go back to how they’d been, both of them isolated and dissatisfied.

  Did they even really know each other as people? Right now, they didn’t seem to have much of a connection beyond the physical. Although he cared for her, he hadn’t chosen their marriage any more than she had. He’d done his duty, honored his responsibilities, and loved their daughter. But she and Jamie were essentially strangers. Could this BDSM adventure help them build the trust and understanding they lacked? She hoped so. She wanted a happy, healthy relationship with the man she loved.

  A breeze blew in from the ocean, carrying the scent of salt, cooling her heated skin. Jamie’s note drifted off the table. She leaned over the arm of her chair to grab it before it was blown away and lost. What had he planned? Her belly tightened with a heady mix of excitement and fear. Jamie had done things with his subs that he’d liked. What if some of those things were things she couldn’t do? Things she couldn’t give him? Things she wouldn’t give him. They’d talked about some of his limits—no pain for pain’s sake. And no blood. She shuddered at the thought. If he’d said he wanted to whip her until she bled, would she have allowed it? Could she have? For him, maybe. Her complete lack of experience meant she had no idea what she’d like and what she wouldn’t. She didn’t even know what was out there. What he might want.

  Sipping on the last of the coffee, she tried to reassure herself. Jamie had made a point—several times—that she should never do anything she didn’t enjoy. That doing something just to please him was bad for their relationship. If she wanted this to work, she’d have to follow Caroline’s advice and be upfront with him if he asked her to do something she didn’t want to do. He trusted her to say no.

  That was empowering.

  As her Dom—she could almost hear the uppercase D when he’d said the word—Jamie might be directing their activities, but she was the one with the power. If she said no, that was it. Game over.

  With that thought in mind, she went to execute Jamie’s orders and get ready for her first date with her Dom.

  Jamie maneuvered the black Mustang convertible he’d rented for the week into an open parking spot. The sun was shining, a light breeze was blowing, and it was a perfect day to take his wife out for lunch and a drive along the coast of Oahu. The black leather interior was gorgeous, but to keep the bugs out and prevent the car from becoming too hot, he closed the roof. As he waited for it to click into place, his recent purchases taunted him from the bag on the passenger seat. He couldn’t wait to try them out on Rickie. The idea excited him so much, he had to keep reminding himself that she was a novice, that he had to ease her into their new arrangement.

  In the five years of their marriage, toys had never been part of their sex life. But they were a crucial part of any BDSM relationship. A part he was anxious to get back to. His cock stirred in agreement. Five years was a very long time to go without.

  Grabbing the bag, he got out of the car and tossed it in the trunk. As he was closing the lid, he hesitated. Should he? Yes! He reopened the lid and, after rummaging through the bag, tucked his little surprise in his pocket. Just the thought of it between Rickie’s legs made him half-hard. Thank fuck he was wearing loose pants.

  He slammed the trunk closed and walked toward the resort lobby, careful to keep his pace unhurried. A Dom had to appear in control. Cool, calm, and collected. At least until that final moment when he let himself go. God, he couldn’t wait to have that with Rickie again.

  I like sex a little rough, a little bit kinky. Deal. He chuckled, remembering her words. His wife deserved kudos for instigating the whole thing. If she hadn’t brought it up, he sure as shit wouldn’t have. The woman had spunk. He liked that. It would make getting her to submit to him all that much more of a challenge. And he loved a good challenge. Especially one that would end in limitless pleasure for both of them.

  Her lack of experience might be an issue, at least in the beginning. She had no idea what she’d put in motion. No idea how far BDSM could go. So, he’d be fair, and before they did anything, they’d have a nice long chat. He’d lay it all out for her, make sure she understood her rights. The last thing he wanted was for Rickie to feel used, to clam up and shut him out again. He couldn’t relive the last five years. He had to bind her to him—physically and emotionally, and he only had a week to do it. By the time they returned to Seattle, she’d be his, body and soul.

  But only if he didn’t fuck it up by acting like a horny teen and going off half-cocked.

  Entering the lush gardens, he saw her standing by a hibiscus plant with large yellow flowers. He only knew what it was because when they’d arrived yesterday, Rickie had shown him one and explained that the hibiscus was the Hawaiian state flower. The bright yellow blooms were pretty, but next to her radiant beauty, they could have been weeds.

  Her sundress billowed in the warm breeze, fluttering around her knees. After her pregnancy and months nursing Chloe, Rickie’s breasts had softened. When she bent to inhale the flower’s perfume, they swayed gently, evidence that she’d followed his instructions. His hand tightened around his surprise. Had she left off the panties too?

  Hearing his steps on the stone pathway, she straightened and shaded her eyes with her hand. The sun reflected off her blonde hair, turning it gold. From that first night, he’d been drawn to her hair, its color, its texture, its feel when he gripped it in his fist.

  With slow purpose, his gaze wandered down her body, taking in the curves beneath her dress. His hands itched to touch her sun-warmed skin. He’d bet good money she didn’t know that in the sun, her dress was almost see-through. When he raised his gaze to her face, her naughty smile stopped his heart. Maybe he’d have lost that bet.

  Closing the distance between them, he caught her in his arms and kissed her. Lightly. Sweetly. When he pulled back, her puzzled expression thrilled him. Keeping her off-balance was one of his new life goals.

  His hand on her elbow, he guided her to a more secluded section of the garden, where he could give her his surprise. He hadn’t minded other men seeing his subs before, he’d even liked going to BDSM clubs and putting on a show. But with Rickie, everything was different. If another man so much as glanced at her…. Yeah, he was just
too damn possessive where she was concerned. His wife’s body was for his eyes only.

  They stopped on a small bridge from where they could see the ocean. In silence, he turned her toward the water, away from him. He pressed his chest against her back and slid his hands under her dress, caressing the globes of her ass. He’d always loved Rickie’s ass—so round, so firm. So perfect.

  She hung a hand on his neck and arched her back, pressing herself against his hardening cock. He lowered his head and whispered in her ear, his first words since the previous evening. “I’m pleased you agreed to proceed with this change to our relationship, Mrs. Caldwell.” Just saying her name like that ratcheted up his lust.

  Looking at him over her shoulder, she frowned. “You called me that in the note too. Why?”

  “It’s a sign to you that I’m in character. I’m turning on the D/s part of our relationship. When I do that, you need to take on your role as my sub and do whatever I say.”

  “Anywhere?”

  “Anywhere. Anytime.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll never do anything to embarrass you. Or hurt you. Much.” He grinned. “Whatever I do or make you do, we’ll both enjoy it.”

  “Uh… okay.” Her voice shook, betraying her nerves. But he could see the wheels turning in her head. See her connect the dots. “Can I turn it on too?”

  He nodded. “Call me Mr. Caldwell.”

  “Anytime? Anywhere?”

  “Yes. But if I call you Rickie in response, it means I’m not playing.”

  Her forehead creased as she seemed to process the information. “So, if I call you Jamie, it means I’m not playing?”

  “No. You can’t not play. A sub must always be available for her Dom.”

  “Hmmm.” Her expression hardened and she ran her tongue along her teeth; Rickie was going to balk. He’d expected nothing less. “That doesn’t seem fair,” she said.

  Time to lay down the law. “This isn’t about fair. It’s about pleasure. If I’m not in the right mood, the right frame of mind, I won’t be a good Dom to you. I might even be a bad one.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “And we wouldn’t want that.”

  “What if I’m not in the mood to be your sex slave?”

  “You will submit to me, even when you might not want to. The reward will be all the better. But, as your Dom, it’s my responsibility to know when your resistance is part of the game, and when it’s real. If you aren’t into something, it won’t be good for either of us.”

  “So I have to trust that you’ll take my feelings and my needs into consideration.”

  “Trust is the key.” He stroked her arm, moving up to her shoulders, and back down to her belly. His hand cupped her pussy through the cotton of her sundress, her warmth heating his palm. He bunched up the dress, so he could feel her, skin on skin. She was so soft, so wet.

  “I’m working on that,” she said, undulating against him.

  He slid his finger between her pussy lips, coating them with her own juices. “There are two safewords.”

  “Safewords?” She tried to turn, but he held her firmly against him with his free arm. If he didn’t crave more than a quick fuck, he’d bend her over the railing and slam his cock into her tight pussy, right here. Right fucking now.

  He had to clear his throat, and his mind, before he could speak intelligibly. “The first safeword is ‘yellow.’ It’s like a caution sign. If I’m pushing you too close to the limit of your fear or pain tolerance, use it. I’ll back off.”

  “And the second one?”

  Continuing to caress her with his fingers, he said, “Red. It means we’ve hit a hard limit that maybe you didn’t know about. That’s okay. I need to trust you’ll tell me if I go too far.” He removed his hand from her, knowing it would heighten the impact of what he was about to say. “That word stops everything. Don’t use it unless you really mean it.”

  She gripped the railing and leaned against him. “D-do you have any hard limits? Besides blood, I mean.”

  Sliding his hand back under her dress, he thrust his pulsing cock against her ass, and knew he’d have to have it as soon as she was fully prepared.

  “After lunch, we’ll talk about hard and soft limits. And must-haves.”

  “Must-haves. I like the sound of that.” She rolled her hips and moaned when he circled her clit, then trailed his finger down to her entrance and plunged it deep into her wet heat. She was ready for her surprise.

  Pulling his hands away from her, he moved a step back. Not too far, just enough for her to feel the loss along her back. He took his surprise from his pocket and when she turned to face him, a question in her eyes, he dangled the G-string from his forefinger. When he’d spotted the miracle of white pearl-sized metal beads, he’d pounced on it.

  Rickie scowled. “What is it?”

  “A G-string.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Put it on, Mrs. Caldwell,” he said, his tone firm. Unyielding.

  “Here?”

  “Now.” Rickie swiped the G-string from his hand and fiddled with it, trying to figure out how it worked. “Need help?” he asked. It was a real challenge to keep from grinning.

  “No!” she snapped. Fire sparked in her eyes as she stepped into the loops and pulled up the G-string. “Why beads?”

  Taking her arm, he led her in the direction of the Mustang. “You’ll see.”

  He was able to pinpoint the exact moment when she did see. Her step faltered and she gripped his arm, nails digging into his flesh. “Oh!” she gasped, her cheeks flushing a beautiful shade of pink. The same pink as her nipples.

  “You like?”

  Licking her lips, she turned to him. The mix of Madonna and Magdalene in the smile she offered him turned his knees to jelly and his cock to stone.

  Delayed gratification was going to kill him. His lovely wife was going to kill him.

  Kill him with pleasure.

  Chapter 5

  Naughty, sinfully delicious sensations coursed through Erica’s body. With each step, with each glide of the beaded G-string, a fresh rush of tingles fanned her arousal. The knowing grin on Jamie’s handsome face made her want to jump in his arms and beg him to take her, to plunge deep inside her, to ease the ache building between her thighs.

  But that wasn’t how this game was played. He would draw this out until she broke. And she would, but not until he was ready to break too.

  They neared the sleek convertible, and ever the gentleman, Jamie opened the passenger door for her. It would almost be a relief not to feel the to-and-fro of the beads against her sensitized flesh for a while.

  As she sank into the deep seat, the extent of her error became clear. The row of beads snuck in, deep and tight against her. Her grip on Jamie’s hand tightened as an orgasm tore through her, startling her with its suddenness. She arched her back, the motion bringing on another long glide, propelling her into a second climax before the first even ebbed. The world, the car, Jamie’s face—everything blurred as her body soared.

  When she finally stopped quivering, she slumped against the seat back and opened her lids, blinking to bring her surroundings into focus. Jamie’s smile and the fire sparkling in his eyes almost stopped her heart. “This is going to be a great day,” he said, closing her door.

  Erica tried to regain her breath while Jamie rounded the hood and sat behind the wheel. “Where”—she swallowed to moisten her dry throat—“where are we going?”

  He turned on the car and opened the roof. “The clerk at the resort recommended this little seafood restaurant in Kaaawa. Sound good?”

  “Wonderful.” She shifted to adjust the seatbelt and winced when a wayward bead dug into her butt. “Am I going to keep this on?”

  “This?”

  She sighed. “The G-string. Do I have to keep it on?”

  “You’ll keep it on until I tell you to take it off.” His words were clipped, like he was commanding his team.

  A thought nailed her to the seat. What if she
came in the restaurant? In front of other people? She’d want to die. “Jamie, I—”

  He laid his hand on her thigh and squeezed it lightly. “I said I’d never do anything to embarrass you.”

  “It’s not like I can control this.” She motioned awkwardly toward her middle. Discussing sex had never been comfortable for her.

  “This? You’ll have to be more specific, Mrs. Caldwell.”

  Jamie turned the car onto the two-lane highway and accelerated. The purring of the engine made the metal beads vibrate. She felt as though hundreds of fingers were massaging her at once. “Oh, God,” she said, moaning.

  “I’m glad you think so highly of me. But I’m not God.”

  Damn him. He was enjoying her struggle. She gripped the edge of the seat, and ground her teeth together. “I’m going to come again.” Her voice rose to a shrill pitch.

  “You will not.” He let a moment pass. “Not until I give you permission. As your Dom, I say when and where you can come.”

  Was he out of his mind? No one could control an orgasm. “And how do you propose I stop it?”

  “Count sheep.” She closed her eyes as a tornado built deep inside her. Jamie sucked in a harsh breath and grabbed her wrist. “Self-pleasuring is not permitted. Unless I order it.”

  What was he talking about? She wasn’t— The thought died as she looked down. Her dress was hiked up to her waist and her right hand was between her legs, rolling the beads against her swollen folds. Hissing, she tore her hand away and shoved her dress back in place. He was turning her into a sex addict!

  Jamie’s loud laugh startled her. She jerked her head up and seeing the humor dancing in his eyes, her cheeks flamed. “Did I say that out loud?” Dropping her face into her hands, she groaned. “Oh, God. I did.”

  With a sideways glance, Jamie wound his hand in her hair and tugged. “Sit back.”

  The guttural scrape of his voice put her on instant alert. Desire etched his features, sharpened his jaw and cheekbones. The tingles between her legs turned to sizzles. Who would break first? Since she’d already climaxed twice, logic would dictate that it would be him. But everything about Jamie defied logic. The unexpectedness of her previous orgasms had astounded her, and left her primed and ready for more.