by Cynthia Dane
“Are you scared of me?”
Her eyes darted back to him, standing there with a drink in his hand. I’m scared of him like I’m scared of my cat. Actually, she was more scared of the cat. He had claws and a nasty temper. Ethan was practically a puppy compared to Blackbeard.
“No. I’m not scared of you.”
He did not break eye contact either. Stare into my soul, why don’t you? “Then put on the collar and let’s get started.”
It wasn’t that Jasmine thought she had no choice. More like she should hurry up and hope he changed his tune soon. At least I know I’m the toy tonight. At least she knew where she stood in his eyes and wouldn’t get her heart torn asunder.
“Fine.” Jasmine pulled the collar around her neck and snapped it in the back. Here they went. “What will you have, sir? Should I drop your fly for you?” That’s what he usually wanted.
“Drop the attitude.” Ethan closed the distance between them, his hand undoing the top of his shirt as he looked Jasmine up and down. Devouring her with his eyes. Deciding what he was about to do to her. “I don’t want to hear a word out of you unless I ask. Understood?”
She supposed that counted. “Yes, sir.” Whatever the boss wanted.
Ethan flicked something off her shoulder, his eyes traveling up and down her frame while she stood and waited for a command. He’s usually not this domineering even when the collar’s on. But what Ethan Cole wanted, he got. Including her.
“I like your dress.” It wasn’t actually a dress, but Jasmine wasn’t going to correct him at a time like this. Funny he didn’t recognize it though. He bought her this outfit back home. A high-waist pencil skirt that hugged her hips and clung to her knees; a short-sleeved white silk blouse that buttoned in the front; a skinny gold belt to tie it together. “Get down on your knees.”
Oh, here it came.
Jasmine did as commanded, lowering herself to her knees until such joints dug into the hotel room carpet.
Ethan gently tugged on her hair, making sure all of her long tresses were off her shoulder and down her back. This made her chest prominently stand out – certainly his goal. “You’re dressed so fancy today. Sophisticated, really. Once you get your hand on some money you clean up really nice.”
Jasmine glared at him.
“Pop open those pretty buttons for me. I want to see everything.”
Contempt tried to show on Jasmine’s face, though she only felt annoyed. Possibly frustrated. If Ethan was acting like this right now, there was no guarantee that he would be interested in getting her off as well. Would this be a night she took care of herself in the shower? Because even if she wasn’t really feeling it, odds were good that somewhere along the way Mr. Ethan Cole would get her riled up enough to want some of her own.
Her fingers fumbled with her top buttons, eyes still on him as she snapped two, three, four buttons and pulled her blouse open. Since she wore white that day, she had to wear a bra beneath. Ethan didn’t seem to mind, based on the tiny smirk tugging on his mouth. With a nod of his head he urged her to continue, and she did so, tucking her blouse beneath her breasts as she found the best place to lower her bra and show him what he had seen a hundred times by now.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
Hanging out of her shirt was enough for him. Jasmine had to resituate herself on her knees and then hold her hands behind her back. The collar scratched her throat.
Ethan leaned against the sofa again, taking her in as he enjoyed more of his drink. “What’s with that look?” he asked, referring to her defiant frown. Drink finished, he tossed the glass onto the sofa and unzipped his trousers. “I’ve never had one of you look at me like that.”
One of you. He was definitely dissociating himself from their relationship. Good thing the collar was on. Jasmine was less likely to get her feelings hurt this way. “Nothing’s wrong, sir.”
“That’s good.” His hand wrapped around his erection, only half up. So he probably wasn’t fantasizing about this for a good while before summoning Jasmine to put on her collar. It was Monica. Something she told him… said to him… insinuated… made him want to treat Jasmine like this after a full day of having fun. “Do me a favor and sit still.” Ethan squeezed himself and then relented, grunting as he did so. “Keep looking at me like that, if you like.”
Jasmine didn’t know how else she was supposed to look at him as he began stroking himself, his fingers wrapping around his shaft and then teasing his own tip. He’s gonna do it huh? Wouldn’t be the first time she watched him get himself off. But it would be the first time he did so directly on her. There was no doubt that it was what he wanted.
“You know what I like about you, my flower?” he asked, his breath making his words jump as his hand moved at a steady speed around his cock. Wouldn’t take him much longer. At this point I’d rather do it. Giving him head was a way to assert control. Then she remembered that Ethan didn’t want her to have any control right now. “Even when I’m treating you like this, I can still see that spark in your eye. Even when it’s a game, you’re a contender. You’re beautiful and you’re willful. I did good picking you out of a crowd.”
He didn’t say anything after that. Just touched himself, staring down at Jasmine’s chest as he pleasured the part of him he usually asked her to service.
It is kinda hot… Jasmine wouldn’t let herself relax just yet. He wanted willful? She would give him willful. As the groans of his orgasm commenced, Jasmine remained firm where she knelt. The only time she flinched was when the first of his release hit her skin, warm and wet. There was more after that. There always is. Ethan never lacked in that department.
“Fuck.” He let go and slumped against the sofa, his handiwork covering Jasmine’s breasts and slipping down her skin.
Not a bad idea. Jasmine didn’t voice that opinion.
Ethan caught his breath, that fire going out behind his eyes. Jasmine softened. “You can go clean up,” he said.
How kind. Jasmine struggled to her feet, her legs aching from sitting on them for so long.
She didn’t expect any of this to continue when she returned. Ethan jacked it out of himself and would probably either pass out in bed, take a shower, or vegetate in front of the television. Jasmine tried to think of something to amuse herself with and settled on a game on her tablet. She would curl up in bed and fire it up…
“Come here.”
Ethan stood in front of his suitcase, fingering one of his many silk ties he brought with him. Jasmine went – after all, she was still wearing her collar – and studied him precariously. “Yes, sir?” She looked at the tie again. “Are we still in a scene, sir?”
His hand crept onto her waist and then onto her rear. Jasmine stiffened. She had buttoned up her blouse again, but now she wondered if that had been a mistake. Just in case, she undid everything she fixed in the bathroom, including tearing off her bra from beneath her sleeves. Ethan whistled in admiration as the lacy thing landed in his suitcase.
“I guess so.” He draped the tie around her shoulders. “Go get on the bed. We have something to discuss.”
Jasmine wasn’t sure she liked the idea of discussing anything while she had the collar on. But she obeyed, crossing to the bed and climbing into the middle of it like a good sub. Ethan was right behind her, touching her thigh, her rear, and even the small of her back through her blouse.
Whatever there was to discuss, he waited until he had unzipped the back of her skirt and lowered the whole thing to her ankles. She kicked it to the floor and felt his hands dig for the elastic of her lingerie. Was he hard again already? Jasmine wouldn’t complain if he slid right in.
Instead he pulled the silk tie against her forehead, lowering it to her eyes until she was blindfolded. But Ethan did not tie it behind her head. The tie remained taut in his hands, ready, waiting for her to move. Jasmine didn’t. “You wanted to discuss something, sir?”
The tie remained draped ac
ross her face as Ethan lowered his hands to her arms, then her breasts. He surrounded her with his arms, lips burying into the back of her neck through the mess of her hair. “That’s a nice scent. What is it?”
I doubt this is what you wanted to talk about. “Dior,” Jasmine said. “You bought it for me a month ago, remember?”
“No.” Ethan eased her down, the tie falling to the bed as the shadows of the comforter met Jasmine’s vision instead. “I don’t.”
She thought he was going to have sex with her, but he wasn’t to that point yet. Ethan’s lips kissed her shoulder, her back, and then her cheek as he gently pressed his hips against her rear and inhaled her scent. Jasmine was trapped between being aroused and put off by this turn of events. The man was farther gone than she supposed earlier. “Have I done something wrong?”
He stopped kissing her and sat up, hand clutched around the tie beside her. “No.” He eased off her, allowing her to also sit up and lean against him.
Jasmine opened her mouth to speak, but with the collar on she felt compelled to keep it shut. Her fingers clutched the back of it and almost flicked it open. I can’t talk to you openly with this thing on! Ethan’s hand rested atop hers, urging her to put her arm down. His hand then went to her breast, mouth on her throat just above the collar. “Then what are we discussing?”
With one hand holding her torso up, Ethan pushed her toward the bed again, her ass in the air. She wasn’t even surprised – but certainly alighted with arousal – when he briskly slapped one of the cheeks. “What a naughty girl you’ve been. Spending all of my money.”
He said it with a forced humor. So he originally meant something else. Ethan’s habit of one-eighty changes in conversation lately unnerved Jasmine. Something boiled in the back of his mind, waiting to come out to her, but for some reason he was too proud to say what it was. So he said those things, probably hoping that Jasmine wouldn’t notice. I always do.
Still, this was an escape for him. A scenario for him to exert control in. Jasmine just reaped whatever benefits she could. So why do I want to make him talk about the other thing? Because she cared? Because she… loved him?
“Last I checked, you have a lot of money to spend.”
Another playful slap to her rump. He didn’t do it often, but when Ethan got started with the spanking Jasmine knew she was about to have a wild ride in one position or another. God, here I am, slobbering over sex while he stews about something. Wouldn’t be the first time.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think that’s all you’re using me for.”
Ah, what an astute man. Not that Jasmine was only using him for his money. I kind of like you, asshole. “I would never, sir.” She didn’t know if she was into the scenario or naturally on the defensive.
Ethan stepped off the bed and coaxed Jasmine to follow him, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood of the hotel room floor thanks to a cramp in her leg. If she made a fool of herself in front of Ethan, he never let on. “Just to be on the safe side, I better make sure I get my money’s worth.”
Before she could gasp in offended shock, Jasmine’s hands were behind her back, tied together by the silk accessory. Helpless in his arms, she could only hiss between her teeth when he embraced her from behind and pinched one of her exposed nipples. Your money’s worth, huh? She knew what that meant as she was herded to the Victorian sofa in the center of the hotel room and bent over it, the back of the sofa maintaining her precarious balance as she stood on her tiptoes and kept her shoulders up. “Holy…!” The third spank of the night was the roughest, landing right on her flesh before those fingers yanked on her lingerie and left them to catch around her spread legs. “Shit!”
She didn’t know exactly how much she meant that until Ethan knelt down and kissed the vulnerable space between her thighs. His tongue soon followed, parting her open and making her moan into the open air. Without a care Jasmine tried to pry her hands apart, but they remained firmly together beneath Ethan’s knot. Jasmine’s fingers twisted together, her mouth open and eyes squeezed shut as Ethan stood and slipped his middle finger into her.
“At least there’s that,” he said, referring to how wet she was already. You think it takes much around you? Jasmine wanted to say something snippy, but the sensation of his fingers pushing into her made her lose the strength in her shoulders. She slumped down with a groan in her throat. “As long as we have an understanding, my flower. My money for this.”
One final spank and she was done. Jasmine whimpered in desire, pulling herself up – willing her damn self up. She was glad, oh so glad, when Ethan pushed the head of his once again erect cock into her.
“Say it.”
The collar was tight around her throat at that angle. “Fuck me,” she said, softly. He pulled out, then teased her, eliciting a groan of frustration that shook the expensive sofa. “Please…”
Her cry as he yanked on her hair was loud enough to alert someone outside of the room. “You know what kind of woman asks for that?”
Fear, for the first time in many weeks, crept across Jasmine’s skin. No, don’t say it… Not that word. Not that biting, terrible word that made her want to throw up. Not even with the collar on was it acceptable. “What kind of woman?” she asked, afraid to hear the answer.
The word rumbled through the both of them, awakening her, luring him into her, and bringing them together in that heated moment. “Mine.”
Relief as powerful as her need for him brought her back to her senses.
He was in her, pulling her hips, tugging her hair, and digging his nails into her tender flesh. Jasmine tried to meet his thrusts but realized that she was meant to just take it, his lust burrowing into her and claiming her for the night. Because I’m just a mistress. Shame danced with her lust as she delighted in every stroke to her skin, thrust to her center, and tug against her head. She shouldn’t want to be used like this. She shouldn’t want Ethan to imply she was what she was as he fucked her in a debasing position, as he spanked her for spending his money, as he… Stop. Stop thinking. It was a role-play. A scene. The collar was on and Jasmine’s goal was to ride it out with as much pleasure to gain as possible.
So when he held himself inside her, warmth spreading through her body, Jasmine succumbed to a soothing orgasm that filled her with more than just endorphins.
Ethan took his time pulling out of her and undoing her binds. Jasmine lowered her sore arms and stretched them, her lips begging him to hold her in at least one comforting embrace – which he did, snapping the collar off her neck so he could kiss the skin beneath.
32
One of the most dangerous things that could happen was Jasmine overthinking. Something she was notorious for when she felt she had been wronged.
There was a long list of examples in her life. When she was a child, she often resented her parents’ lifestyle because it made things difficult for her at school. Sure, there were lots of hippies in her hometown. It was known as a sort of haven for them. But Mr. and Mrs. Bliss weren’t just ordinary hippies. They took veganism to the extreme by not allowing Jasmine to even eat the cookies a friend brought over one day after school because they had milk and eggs in them. Granted, over the years they became much more relaxed, but Jasmine never forgot the embarrassment she felt when a cookie was yanked out of her hand. My parents didn’t make me be vegan or vegetarian… until it came to junk food. Convenient.
Then there was the time her best friend in eighth grade started hanging out with another girl. At first Jasmine thought nothing of it until this friend no longer wanted to hang out with her because something about summer camps and band practice. Clearly she wanted to end it, right? Jasmine never got a straight answer out of her ex-friend.
The time she was fired after a public argument about the length of her dress. The time an ex-boyfriend forgot her birthday. The time Blackbeard shat on her kitchen floor after she went away for a weekend. Men.
Those seemed like nothing co
mpared to what she experienced now. Jasmine lay in bed – the most dangerous time, as her mind ran a mile a minute – thinking over the trip to Portland she just returned from. Not just Portland. Her months with Ethan so far. How her emotions had run the gamut of worried, indifferent, angry, and in love. The sex was great. The strings that came with it? Not so much.
So the collar told her when Ethan wanted to role-play. She wasn’t supposed to take any of that seriously. Except she couldn’t do anything but, especially after what he said in Portland. He didn’t want a girlfriend. He knew she was just using him for his money. I’m not! She swore she wasn’t, and he swore he wasn’t just using her for sex.
They would never believe the other. Especially when they refused to talk!
But Jasmine didn’t talk because Ethan shut down more often than not. The word love was on his lips every time they had sex, yet he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Jasmine didn’t care if his heart had been broken before. Her heart was being broken now.