UndoneDiva
Page 13
She couldn’t count the number of times she’d heard him say that, or the number of times she’d done it without question. The few times she’d disobeyed had been met with true punishment. She remembered those as part of her screamed for her to obey.
But Emory was there. She had some idea what he was doing, and she trusted him enough that it didn’t really matter what his plan was. His presence was like a warm blanket she could wrap herself in. It may not totally protect her from Rafe, but it lessened his effect.
She cleared her throat and then said for a third time, “I cannot do this anymore.”
Rafe’s gaze bored into her. She met his gaze with her own, something she’d never done before.
“Sasha.” Emory’s voice was calm and steady. “Kneel.”
Without hesitation, she dropped to her knees. With each breath she took she felt herself melting into her submissive. It wasn’t until that moment, when she knelt where she had so many times before, that she realized how different it felt when she was submissive with Emory. Everything before this had been like a badly fitted red carpet dress—ugly and disappointing. With Emory, for Emory, submission fit like a best-dressed gown.
“Remove your jacket and shirt.”
She shrugged off her leather jacket, then with deliberate slowness undid the buttons holding her loose tunic-style shirt together and shrugged it off. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her nipples peaked in the cool air. She looked at Emory out of the corner of her eye, and she could tell by the way he was standing that he was unhappy with what he’d ordered her to do. She’d have to remind him that on a weekly basis, dozens of people saw her naked and that she didn’t care. But it felt good that he didn’t like ordering her to do this.
Emory put his hand on her head. His touch was gentle for a moment before he fisted his hand in her hair and tipped her head back. Sasha gasped and a thrill of arousal ran through her. Emory’s free hand roamed down her neck to her breasts, cupping each one in turn.
“Put your shirt on and return to the car.” Emory released her hair. “Remove your pants and underwear before you get in.”
“Yes, Master,” she murmured. She lifted her shirt from the floor and put it on. Taking her jacket, she folded it and then clamped it in her teeth and carefully crawled backwards to the door.
Emory had never asked her to do it, and the heavy leather made her jaw ache, but she was deep in her submission and wanted him to know that she would obey any command, that she wanted and needed his Dominance. At the door she stood, only turning when she had to.
Emory turned his attention from Sasha to Rafe. For a moment she’d been so beautiful, so sensually submissive, that he’d forgotten why he was here.
Rafe had an odd look on his face. Emory didn’t speak, not sure what the expression meant.
“She is a beautiful slave,” the other man finally said. “I regret losing her to you, though I should have expected that someone would steal her from me.”
There were a lot of things going on in that statement that Emory didn’t agree with, but he did agree that she was beautiful.
“I’ll be leaving my vehicle here. I was unable to accompany Sasha but I’ll be taking her home,” Emory said, hoping to wrap the conversation up before his control failed and he told this man exactly what he thought of him and what he’d done to Sasha.
Amicable, he reminded himself.
“Leave the keys, I’ll have someone take it.”
“Thank you.” Emory nodded.
“If you ever tire of her, please let me know,” Rafe said as Emory walked away.
Emory opened the door, looked over his shoulder. “I will never tire of her.”
Sasha was waiting in the passenger seat of her car. Emory detached his car keys from the ring, threw his keys on the hood of his own vehicle and went to Sasha’s, not caring if he ever saw his car again.
He slid into the driver’s seat. Sasha was naked from the waist down, her slim gold thighs pressed together.
Emory started the car and followed the circular driveway away from the house. He looked at Sasha, wanting to ask her questions, discuss what just happened, but he’d drawn out her submissive side and her eyes were dark pools. She didn’t need her lawyer or her boyfriend. She needed her Master.
“Spread your legs.” She obeyed with a little shudder of relief.
He kneaded her left thigh then slid his hand up to her sex. She was dry, though as his fingers explored the inner folds of her sex, he felt moisture pooling at the entrance to her body. The fact that her body was only now reacting told him what he needed to know about exactly how scared she’d been.
He kept his hand curled around her inner thigh as he drove. She’d dropped her head back, seeming happy to simply be.
They stopped at a light that would let them turn left onto Highway 1 south.
“Sasha, I need to talk to you.”
She straightened in her seat and opened her eyes. When she looked at him she no longer had that lost, dreamy look of submission.
He reached behind the seat for her pants. Between the folds he found a hard, cold object. He pulled it forward and placed it on the seat between her spread knees. The gun gleamed dully against the leather seat, the deep gray contrasting with her gold skin.
“Were you going to shoot him?”
Sasha picked up the gun and did something that made clicking sounds, and then slid the clip out of the handle. She put the gun on the floorboard at her feet. “If I had to.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I wanted to show you that I could do it, that I could stand up to him. I thought it would prove that I’m ready for us.”
“That was… Ill advised. I don’t care about proving things, I care about you. I want you safe and happy, and that man was a risk to both your safety and your happiness.”
“I’m sorry.”
He was just glad that he’d seen the bulge at the back of her pants under the edge of her jacket when he walked in. He grabbed her hand, laced their fingers and kissed her wrist. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”
“It was perfect. You’re perfect.”
Emory turned left and they drove in silence for a moment before he said, “These windows are tinted, aren’t they?”
“Yes.”
“Take off the rest of your clothes. I need you naked, right now.”
“Yes…Master.”
It took them forty minutes to get back to her house, during which Emory made Sasha come four times.
Not that he was counting.
Epilogue
Emory carried the brown paper-wrapped package up the steps to Sasha’s front door. The security guard nodded to him. Though he’d been dating Sasha for months, he had the impression that they still didn’t trust him.
Jayne waved distractedly at him as she passed through the foyer, phone to her ear. Assuming Sasha was in a meeting with someone he started up the steps to her—their—bedroom. Emory still had his condo in Marina Del Rey, but most of his clothes were here and he stayed here most nights.
His relationship with Sasha had brought in new high-profile clients to his firm. The fact that it was his relationship and not his work that had brought in new business made him uncomfortable. He’d learned to live with it because the massive retainers the new clients had dropped after they’d cited him as the reason for switching law firms had raised his profile with the senior partners. That meant more high-ticket lunches to woo clients and less actual legal work. It also meant he had free time during the day, which helped him mold his schedule around Sasha’s. Jayne and Mary talked daily to make sure that his calendar never conflicted with Sasha’s.
He stepped into their bedroom and shucked his jacket, taking it to the large, subdivided room that served as Sasha’s closet. It was actually larger than the master bedroom in his condo.
“Hey, good-looking.”
He turned to see Sasha, wearing nothing but a thin robe, in the bathroom doorway. Her hair was wrapped up
in what looked like a piece of plastic.
“Hello, Princess.” He caught her up in a kiss, her body warm and firm against his. The kiss didn’t last long, as there was a distinctly unpleasant smell coming off her head.
“What is that?”
“It’s a conditioning treatment. The coloring they used dried out my hair.”
“It smells…”
She grinned. “Lovely, isn’t it? That’s why I’m in the bathroom. There’s a fan. Give me a minute to rinse it out.”
Emory removed his suit, carefully hanging the pieces onto a single hanger and then placing it in the small section of the closet that had been allocated to him.
Now wearing Dockers and a polo—Sasha was on a quest to get him to dress casually, and this was as much as he’d been willing to concede—he left the closet. Sasha was in the bedroom, sitting in a lounge chair, her hair now up in a more normal towel.
“What’s this? Is it for me?” She held up the paper-wrapped package he’d brought with him.
“It’s a copy of a book I was a part of.”
“You wrote a book?”
“I wrote some of it. It’s the book I told you about, the one with Addie, the girl from Lulu’s.”
Sasha ripped off the paper and Emory went to sit beside her.
There was a letter from Helen, the head of C&C Productions, the group that had produced the book. The cover was black with the title in simple gold script. Introduction to BDSM: A Visual Journey.
Sasha flipped the book open. The images were a mix of color and black and white. The faces of the people in the photos were never clear—instead there were shots of the sub’s cheek, her head turned away from the camera as she watched the out-of-focus Dom holding a roll of rope.
Sasha kept flipping until she stopped at a shot of a man’s hand down at his side, a flogger dangling loosely from his fingers.
“I know that hand…and that flogger. This is you!” Sasha looked up, grinning in delight. It was crazy that this super-famous movie star he loved was excited about a picture of his hand.
“Maybe it’s not me,” he teased.
“No, it’s you.” She turned the page. “Wait, what game are you playing here?”
It was a shot of the dark-haired sub Addie, who was now Lane’s wife. She was bound in an X by a web of chain held up by a metal box he’d constructed. “That’s captured French spy. There was a production crew that helped me construct this piece. It was a shame that they dismantled it, but I didn’t exactly have space for it in my condo.”
“Captured French spy? We’ve never played that.” Sasha licked her lower lip in a way she knew made him crazy.
“We’ll have to remedy that.”
Emory captured her mouth in a kiss. When he pulled back they were both panting.
“I’ll never tell you my secrets,” Sasha vowed, even as she undid her robe.
“If we play now you’ll be late for your next meeting,” Emory warned, though he had trouble caring as her breasts came into view.
“I don’t care. They can wait.”
About Lila Dubois
Lila is a multi-published, bestselling author of erotic, paranormal and fantasy romance. Having spent extensive time in France, Egypt, Turkey, Ireland and England, Lila speaks five languages, none of them (including English) fluently.
Lila welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Lila Dubois
Red Ribbon
Undone Lovers 1: Undone Rebel
Undone Lovers 2: Undone Dom
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Undone Diva
ISBN 9781419936227
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Undone Diva Copyright © 2012 Lila Dubois
Edited by Jillian Bell
Cover design by Darrell King
Photos: Sergios and Adam Fraise/Shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication November 2012
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Table of Contents
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