Under His Command (Six-Alarm Sexy)

by Kristine Cayne

  “Yet you’re debating asking him to deny a part of who he is, a crucial part. If you do that, you’ll drive him to keep things from you, to hide an essential piece of himself. Like he was before when you were so miserable.”

  It’s who I am, Rickie.

  Jamie’s words, stated so baldly when she’d tried to stop him from going back for the driver, slid through her heart like a knife. A double-edged one. The tears she’d been fighting spilled over and dripped down her cheeks and off her chin. “I can’t do that to him. Dani, what am I going to do? I want him whole. Just the way he is.”

  “Then tell him that. Show him. He’ll love you all the more because you aren’t forcing him to be half a man.”

  With the edge of her T-shirt, Erica wiped her cheeks. Dani was right. She had to prove to Jamie—and herself—that she was prepared to love him and everything that came with him—the total package. That brave, fearless, selfless side of him had attracted her as much as his man-in-charge side. For them to be happy, for their marriage to survive, she had to accept both sides of her husband.

  After a few more minutes of chatting, she thanked Dani and hung up. Jamie and Chloe were her life. If she wanted a secure loving family, she had to get a grip on her fears. Had to accept the risks of Jamie’s job and know that if the worst did come to pass, she’d survive. She’d raise their daughter to be a successful confident woman. She was not her mother.

  But one question remained: how could she tell Jamie all this in a way he’d understand? After her meltdown last night, he’d have serious doubts about anything she said, and she really couldn’t blame him. An about-face would set off his alarms. Words would not be enough. Something Dani had said came to her then. Show him.

  Good advice. But how?

  Tiptoeing back inside the cottage, she found the book she’d snuck in her suitcase. An erotic novel about what she now understood was a D/s relationship. Maybe it would give her some ideas. If she gave him what he wanted, showed him that she accepted his Dom side completely—surrendered to it—perhaps he’d also believe that she’d finally accepted that his being a firefighter was one of the many reasons she loved him.

  On the way back to the lanai, she caught sight of Jamie’s little bag of toys. Hmmm… There might be something in it that she could use. Snatching up the bag, she brought it outside. Total submission wouldn’t be easy for her, given her controlling nature—yes, she knew she was a control-freak—but Jamie was well worth the effort.

  Jamie threw the pillow off his face and glared at the sunlight piercing his skull. The dull throbbing in his head matched the one in his arm. The burn wasn’t bad, but it stung. He loved fire, but it could be a bitch of a mistress.

  He stretched out, wanting to pull Rickie to him, needing to reassure himself that she hadn’t left him again. But his hand met only cold sheets. He jackknifed in the bed and scanned the room. Empty. His heart raced until he spotted her purse on the dresser. Relieved, he flopped back onto the bed. Like most women he knew, Rickie had her life in that purse, and she’d never wander far without it. When she returned, they’d have a chat about last night. He’d really hoped she’d come to accept his career, but her reaction proved she was still struggling with it. He didn’t know how to help her, except…

  The thought was too depressing to complete. Shoving off the bed, he collected the supplies he’d need to take a shower and change his bandage. The shower would help clear his mind and calm him down. How he handled the next few hours would affect the rest of his life in a major way.

  After the shower, he examined his burn. The blisters were almost gone and the angry purple had faded to a bright pink. A little like Rickie’s ass after the spanking he’d given it the other day. His groin tightened and he raked a hand through his damp hair. There’d be no more of that until he figured out what was going on inside his wife’s head. And her heart.

  He changed the bandage, then wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the bathroom. His gaze zeroed in on the one object out of place.

  His wife.

  Rickie sat on her heels by the door, naked. Her knees were spread and her hands rested on her thighs. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor in front of her. Christ. She was presenting. Where the fuck had she learned to do that?

  His instinct was to charge across the room, yank her to her feet, and demand to know what the hell she was up to. Instead, he rocked back on his heels. If this twist in their relationship was something she truly wanted, he owed it to her to hear her out. But could he deal with controlling another person to this extent again, even for her?

  She still hadn’t looked up. Knowing what she was waiting for, he crossed his arms and snapped, “Erica.”

  Her gaze lifted and she smiled brightly. “Good morning, Sir.”

  Did she just want to play a little? He really couldn’t tell.

  “Good morning. Come here.”

  “Yes, Sir.” When she shifted to all fours and began crawling to him, his stomach dropped to his knees. She stopped in front of him and kissed his bare feet before looking at him, her expression expectant.

  Seeing her prostrate herself before him, his stomach revolted. He swallowed the stream of curses that wanted out of his throat and schooled his features. “Good girl,” he said, patting her on the head. When her eyes lit up, his gut clenched. If she really meant this, he was in some serious trouble. He had to know. “Is there something you wish to say?”

  She nodded. “I have a gift for you, Sir. May I give it to you?”

  “You may.” Still on her knees, she crawled over to the dresser. Turning away from her, he sat on the bed and worked on appearing calm. She returned and knelt at his feet, her hands curled around whatever she was holding. “Speak,” he ordered when she remained silent.

  “I offer myself to you, as your obedient s-slave, Sir.”

  Jamie clenched his teeth to keep from hissing. He’d had slaves before and that was not something he wanted for Rickie. He motioned for her to continue.

  Casting her gaze downward, she opened her hands, revealing a collar she’d made by snapping together two ankle restraints she must have found in his toy bag. “I hope you will agree to be my Master.”

  “You want me to collar you.”

  Her cheeks colored. “Yes, Sir. I want to belong to you.” Her voice sounded shrill. Was she excited or nervous?

  “Rickie, what the fuck is going on?”

  She dropped the collar onto the floor. The clank of the snaps hitting the wood resounded in the quiet room. Shifting onto her butt, she hugged her legs to her chest and rested her forehead on her knees. Hiding from him. Shit.

  “I thought this was what you wanted.” Her voice broke.

  He slid off the bed and sat beside her on the floor. “I don’t want to own you, babe. Why would you even think that?”

  “You keep saying stuff like, ‘You’re mine.’ How else am I supposed to take that?”

  Threading his fingers through her hair, he tugged her head up. “Honey, it just means you’re the love of my life and I want to keep you with me always. Not that you’re my property.” When she closed her eyes, he had a sinking feeling. They needed to clear this up right now. “You don’t want to be, do you?”

  “Be what?”

  “My slave or my pet.”

  She arched one of her perfect blonde brows. “What if I did?”

  He leaned against the bed and let his head loll back. “I’ve tried that before. Some submissives experience a deep sense of satisfaction from having someone control their every move. They enjoy serving their Masters and being treated like a possession. I have to be honest with you: it’s not my thing.” Lifting his head, he pinned her with his gaze. “If you’re serious, though, I’ll do this for you. You have to know, I’d do anything for you.”

  Heaving a sigh, she shot to her feet and grabbed her robe off the chair. “After the way I acted last night, I wanted to show you that I’m not changing my mind. I’m in this with you one hundred percent.
” She threw the robe on and gave him her back.

  “Rickie, don’t turn away. Don’t ever be embarrassed about anything you feel.”

  Throwing her hands up, she faced him. “How can I not be embarrassed? I thought if I let you collar me, you’d understand what I was offering. That I was giving myself to you completely.”

  His chest ached with love for her, for how much she wanted him and their marriage. Going to her, he cupped her cheeks with his hands. “I got the message loud and clear, Rickie, and I’m honored that you thought to give yourself to me in that way. But I don’t want to own you, or anyone else. I want to be your partner, your equal.”

  “Even during sex?”

  “Well, no. If we’re in a scene, I need you to be submissive and obedient. Not because you must, but because you trust me enough to submit to my will of your own volition.”

  She stared at him, her brow furrowed. He could only guess at the analysis going on behind those gorgeous brown eyes. “So, if we’re partners in real life, does that mean”—she paused and licked her lips—“you’re mine?”

  Chuckling, he dropped his hands to her ass and pulled her to him so they were chest-to-chest and hip to hip. “More than you’ll ever know.” He bent to scrape his teeth along her neck and enjoyed the goose bumps that sprouted under his lips. “Without you, I’m barely living.”

  “That’s how I feel too.” She hooked her arms around his shoulders, sinking her fingers into his muscles. “I missed you so much while we were separated, but I asked you to leave, because I didn’t know how we could go on the way we were. Since we’ve been here, I feel so close to you. I’m just so afraid of—” She clamped her jaws together and buried her face against his chest.

  He sighed and held her close. “If you haven’t been able to come to terms with the risks of firefighting in the five years we’ve been together, Rickie, I don’t think you ever will.” Inside him, an axe dropped, cleaving his heart. He knew what he had to do for her, for Chloe, for their marriage. “I’ll quit if that’s what you want.”

  Her head jerked up and she dug her nails into his arms. “No! No, Jamie. You can’t do that.”

  The horror in her voice caught him off-guard. “Babe, my job is the reason we split up in the first place. It’s always been the source of our problems.”

  “I was wrong. I didn’t really understand that you’re the man you are because you’re a firefighter. I love how courageous and selfless you are. How you’re willing to put your life on the line to help a stranger. How you get up every day knowing you’ll make a difference in someone’s life. You’re a warrior and a hero, and I never want that to change.”

  The pain in his heart eased as warmth flooded his chest. She was giving him everything he’d always wanted. But were her words for real? He peered deep into her eyes, trying to read her, to gauge her commitment to what she was saying. All he could see was truth. Still, he had to be certain. “How do I know you’re not just telling me what I want to hear?”

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “Let’s just say, my faith is a little shaky.”

  “Why? I haven’t lied to you.”

  He stepped away from her and put his hands on his hips. “Is that so? Tell me, that first scene we did, when I left you on the table with the butt plug in your pretty ass, did you follow my orders?”

  “Yes.” She blinked then averted her gaze.

  He chuckled. She was such a bad liar. “Trust begins with the truth.”

  “Okay, okay.” She rolled her eyes. “I did get up. In fact, I almost stopped the whole thing.”

  “You didn’t. Why?”

  “Because I realized I needed to trust you. I should have realized that a long time ago.” Closing the space between them, she tugged at his chest hair. “What can I do to earn your trust?”

  “It’s simple. Be honest with me. You should have told me you’d struggled with the test and why.”

  Her brows rose, taking over her forehead. “That was a test?”

  He shrugged. “We can’t engage in any serious play unless I’m absolutely sure I can trust you to tell me the truth and use the safewords if you need to. Even the best Doms can make mistakes and misread their subs’ reactions.”

  “So you won’t trust me until I use a safeword?”

  He laughed and tapped the tip of her nose. “No. I hope you’ll never have to use them. Not because there’s anything wrong with that, but because I hope there will never be a need. If we have open and free communication, if you let me know when you’re scared or hurting or confused, we’ll always be in sync.”

  “And I haven’t been communicating openly and freely.”

  “Not even close.”

  “Well I’d like to change that. Please give me another chance. Sir.”

  “Tonight, after the luau, we’ll have a scene. A little bit of edge play to introduce you to something very special to me.” The idea of Rickie laid out on the table submitting to his favorite play made him go rock hard. He wasn’t sure he’d survive the thrill of seeing his wife with waves of blue heat racing over her body.

  Her eyes glittered as she yanked the towel from his hips and caught him in her fist. “I can hardly wait.”

  Chapter 10

  As the luau began to wind down, Jamie placed a bottle of water on the table in front of Rickie. “Drink up, babe. I’m heading back to the cottage to get things ready for you.”

  She glanced around, nervously licking her lips. “We’re going to do it? Do the scene I mean?”

  “Join me in ten minutes.” The cottage was only a short distance from the open-air restaurant, and the path was well-lit. She’d be safe alone.

  When Rickie nodded, he jogged back, pumped and excited about the upcoming scene. Fire play. He’d taken to it when he was still a novice in the lifestyle, but it had quickly become his specialty. For years he’d dreamed of sharing his love of fire with Rickie, but it wasn’t until this week, until today, that he’d ever considered making the dream a reality.

  In the sitting area, he pushed the furniture against the wall to make space for the massage table he’d borrowed from the spa. He placed a cushion from one of the lanai loungers on top of the table, making a nice comfortable space for Rickie.

  He dragged an end table and set it at the head of the massage table. Next, he laid out the equipment he’d need. Since all of his was at home in a well-hidden box, he’d have to make do with what he’d scavenged from the grocery store, the pharmacy, and the lumber store: a dozen torches made with chopsticks and two-inch gauze, a stainless steel pitcher he’d filled with rubbing alcohol, dry gauze for swabbing, gauze soaking in alcohol, a survival candle in a sturdy holder, and several packets of instant ice from the first aid kit. Under the table, he stashed the fire extinguisher from the closet.

  Almost ready. Picking up the remote, he found an easy-listening station that Rickie would like, then he lit the candles he’d used the night they had their first scene. The room needed to be dim, not dark. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and grimaced. The khaki shorts and Hawaiian shirt didn’t fit the Fire Master image. Unfortunately, his leather pants were at home in the box with his equipment. Would Rickie like them? Maybe he’d find out some other time. But only if tonight went well. For now, he’d have to settle for jeans and a tight black T-shirt. Only natural fibers would do. Anything else could melt, or worse, ignite.

  He’d just finished changing when a knock at the door made him jump. He checked his watch. Ten minutes exactly. Rickie was nothing if not punctual. He hit the lights and wiped his palms on his thighs, then took several deep breaths to center himself before opening the door.

  Rickie clutched her purse, and he could almost hear her knees knocking. Smiling, he held out his hand and slipped into his Dom role. “Welcome, Mrs. Caldwell.”

  She swallowed and placed her hand in his, letting him draw her into the cottage. Her eyes widened as she took in the candlelight and music before zeroing in on the massage table. He could
see her confusion as her brow furrowed, and he had to bite back a grin. She’d probably been expecting whips and chains. Not that he had anything against those. If things went well, he’d introduce her to those toys, but not tonight.

  “Get undressed and I’ll explain what I have planned.”

  “Everything?”

  “Yes.”

  She walked over to the bed and reached behind to unzip her dress. Her fingers shook and she couldn’t grasp the zipper tab. Jamie went to her and gently brushed her hands aside. Might as well start the warm-up right now.

  Inch-by-inch, he lowered the zipper, exposing creamy flesh that glowed gold in the candlelight. His lips followed the descent with butterfly kisses along her spine. She moaned and her head fell back. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he slid the wide straps of her dress down her arms and over her hands. The dress puddled on the floor. Kneeling, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her tiny panties and stripped them off her legs. Unable to resist the temptation of her fabulous ass, he pressed his lips to each round cheek, kissing and nibbling. He was careful not to leave any marks that could collect the alcohol and burn her.

  Spinning her around, he found himself at eye-level with her pussy. Her beautiful bare pussy. He almost swallowed his tongue seeing all that exposed pink flesh. Placing a small kiss on her mound, he promised himself to return for a taste if the scene went well. He stood and took her hands. “You’re so goddamn gorgeous, Mrs. Caldwell.”

  A blush blooming on her cheeks, she slipped off her shoes and followed him over to the massage table. “So why couldn’t I wear any perfume or use any lotion? And why did I need to shave my p-pussy?”

  “Hop up here and I’ll explain.”

  With his help, she climbed onto the table. And squeezed her legs together.

  “Uh-uh.” He pushed her knees apart. “Remember, never hide yourself from me.”