Her Dom (Dominic Powers #1)

by A. D. Justice

  She shakes her head slowly, “No, Dom. There was nothing about me in it. Was there supposed to be?”

  I take her hand to reassure her, “My Angel, the contract should’ve only been about you. Your wants, your needs, your desires should have been the first things addressed. Your submission to him is just that—yours. I know this next part will be hard to talk about for you, but I need you to do it…for me.”

  “Alright,” her voice sounds unsure—scared—again.

  “Tell me about the punishment part of it. You’ve been very worried about that, I can tell. I need to know why,” I say gently, as if I’m trying to soothe a frightened child.

  “He just gets mad, you know,” she shrugs her shoulders, “when I don’t know what he wants right away. I hate the whips the most,” she says as a slight shudder runs through her.

  “Sophia, he shouldn’t touch you in anger—ever. Any punishment is agreed upon before it’s given, and it’s only given in love and correction. Never in retaliation. Never when you don’t know what it’ll be,” I try to explain, but she gets that confused expression again. It’s almost as if her mind is engaged in a battle between what he has put in her head and what I’m trying to tell her.

  “I’m going to start from the beginning and teach you my way, Sophia. You’re mine now, so it’s only right that I should be the one who gets the pleasure of teaching you and guiding you. Don’t you think?” I decide to change my tactic and not make her choose between us yet. He is still in her mind, controlling her, and exacting his type of abuse over her. I have to break that hold if we have any hope of moving forward at all.

  “Um, okay, if that’s what you want. I will let you teach me, Dom,” she says sweetly. The words flow over her beautiful plump lips. The ones that are begging me to kiss them and make them succumb to my will. I reach up and languidly brush a strand of hair behind her ear, allowing my knuckles to graze the smooth skin of her cheek.

  “First, let me tell you what I like and you tell me what you like,” I say to her, easing her into the conversation and helping her feel comfortable talking about this with me. The fact is, any sub knows what this lifestyle is as about—as long as we come to an agreement, there are mutual benefits to it with no pretense of waiting an acceptable amount of time to have sex the first time. But with My Angel, I want it to be different. She is different and I know it. I’m convinced she hasn’t really lived as a submissive and I’m not sure she’s in the frame of mind to handle the true nature of a sub life. I don’t want to overwhelm her.

  I continue, “I’ve already told you, I like for you to look me in the eye. It’s fine that others see it as a sign of respect to keep your eyes averted unless told otherwise, but this is my thing. I can read your body, but when you look me in the eye, you know you can’t hide things from me.”

  “The way you dress is also important to me. Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, I want you to wear skirts, heels, and no panties,” I say with a devilish grin. She looks shocked at first but recovers quickly.

  “Even at work?”

  “Yes, even at work. Our work relationship will be somewhat separate. I’ve never been intimate with anyone I’ve worked with, so this will be different for me. Not that we need to hide it, but I expect complete professionalism at work when we are around others,” I explain. “I reserve the right to change that when we’re alone, though.”

  She nods and smiles in agreement, “I can do that. What else?”

  “We’re not defining punishment yet. This is not up for debate. We will discuss anything that would normally warrant punishment, but I’m convinced you have a completely different idea of it than I do. You need to learn me first,” I explain with as much understanding and compassion as I can infuse into my voice.

  “I will take charge in the bedroom and you never have to worry about me hurting you. I’m not into that. The greatest pleasure I get is from taking care of you—in many ways. Which leads me to my next demand. You will take care of yourself in every way. You will not do anything that has a high probability of putting your life or health in danger.”

  “That’s a little vague to me. Can you explain?” she asks, tentatively.

  “If you’ve had a drink and then get behind the wheel of a car, you know that significantly adds to the chances you could be seriously hurt. If you text and drive, you know that adds to the probability of a wreck. If you don’t eat healthy food, or don’t eat all, you know that is bad for your health. Those kinds of things are not alright,” I state emphatically and there is no doubt that is the end of the discussion.

  “Okay, I understand. What do we do now?”

  “Now, you tell me what you like or don’t like,” I cajole.

  Momentary confusion flashes across her face before she responds, “I like what you like, Dom.”

  “That’s the response for a Master, My Angel. I’m not your master. This is a two-way relationship. I will read your body and know what you need. I will test it, tempt it, taste it, own it, and command it, but I also like to know ahead of time what you like and don’t like. It just helps me pleasure you,” I respond, gently stroking my fingers across her cheek.

  “I don’t like being suspended, or gags, or being humiliated,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper. I have a sudden and unyielding urge to hunt down her last Sir and put my fist through his face. The images her fear and inflection of her voice bring to my mind are enough to make me want to kill someone.

  “Tell me what happened, My Angel,” I command, taking her hand in mine to give her reassurance that I’m here for her.

  She squeezes my hand and turns her face down and away in shame. “I was left suspended and gagged with no way to call for help. It scared me and he punished me for not trusting him to know what I needed.”

  My anger flashes to the heat of the sun in an instant. If I had been home instead of on this airplane, I would go hunt the motherfucker down and show him what it feels like. No real Sir puts his submissive in that predicament. No real man would treat his lady like that. She is to be loved, revered, and taken care of at all times. The level of abuse that she just described makes me want to repay the favor to this bastard—an eye for an eye, a gagged suspension for a gagged suspension.

  For Sophia’s sake, I rein in my extreme anger so she doesn’t mistake it for something she’s done wrong. “My Angel, listen to me, sweetheart. That is abuse—plain and simple. I would never do that to you, under any circumstance. I understand your hard limits and I will not push you to do that.”

  “But, will you be happy with me if I don’t?” her voice is shrill, her eyes wide, her breaths increased, and she is clearly terrified.

  “Yes, love, I will still be very happy with you. I don’t need those things, Sophia,” I comfort her. She immediately looks relieved and simply nods. “Anything else you want to tell me? Likes or dislikes?”

  Her face turns the most beautiful shade of red and her straight, white teeth shine in her shy smile. “I like having my hair pulled during sex,” she admits.

  This makes me smile—the fact that she’s becoming comfortable enough with me to have this conversation. The sign that she is beginning to trust me with information that she obviously deems to be embarrassing to admit. “I think I can help you out with that, Sophia.”

  She giggles and I instantly fall in love with the sound of her shy laugh. A thought occurs to me—maybe she will always be somewhat wary of sharing this type of admission. The shame her family cast on her caused deep rooted issues with trust, acceptance, and belonging. Obvious abuse at the hands of a man she willingly submitted herself to only added more validity to those feelings.

  “I feel like I’m starting all over, Dom. This can’t be what you were looking for,” she admits with a somewhat defeated tone.

  “I was only looking for a new employee, Sophia, but when you walked in, I knew I had been looking for you...waiting for you…my whole life, “ I openly admit.

  She gasps and I reclaim her lips,
covering them with mine and devouring her mouth as if it were my very lifeline. Our tongues move in sync, lightly grazing and skimming the other’s, and I feel her body once again melt under my touch. When I pull away from her, I know there are two more ground rules I must add.

  “I have two ‘must haves’ I need to tell you about, My Angel.”

  “Alright,” she answers on a ragged breath.

  “There can be no deception of any kind—no lies, no omissions, nothing fake at all. And you cannot withhold your body from me, unless we’ve discussed it ahead of time and there’s a good reason for doing so,” I level her with my gaze, showing my complete and total lack of joking about either stipulation.

  “I agree, Dom. I agree to those,” she responds and I can sense she is waiting for me to once again take her mouth with mine, taste it, own it, and command it at my will. I am only all too eager to do just that.

  The plane is finally touching down in San Diego and our meeting with Rich Daltry is the furthest thing from my mind. I have Sophia to myself today and tonight and I plan on making the most of every minute. We are two consenting adults and we’ve just spent the last three hours talking about what we do and don’t like during sex. I’m well past ready to move our relationship into the next stage, but for her sake, if she wants to take it slower, I will oblige her for a little longer.

  Fuck, I hope she’s ready because I have a hard-on that would cut diamonds.

  The car is waiting at the private hangar and we wait in the backseat as our bags are transferred from the plane to the trunk. I can’t help but take the opportunity to test the waters with Sophia.

  “We are staying at the Hotel del Coronado,” I lean over and speak low into her ear. Her skin prickles with chill bumps rippling down her arm, making the tiny hairs stand at attention. My fingers follow behind her reaction and her body trembles at my touch. “Have you ever been there?”

  She shakes her head first then audibly answers me, “No, I’ve never been to San Diego at all.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, but is rich with need, want, and desire. Knowing I have a similar affect on her as she does on me makes our union even sweeter. Even if I have to teach her every step, every touch, and every look, it’ll all be worth it.

  “I think you will like it. It’s very nice, upscale and it’s directly on the beach,” I continue, using my nose and chin to move her hair so that my lips gently glide across her neck. Her reaction is immediate and it spurs me on.

  “I’ve heard of it,” she answers breathlessly. “I’ve heard the hotel rooms are heavenly.”

  “That they are,” I respond while intentionally kissing her neck this time. “But, we’re not staying in a regular room.”

  “Ooooh?” she asks, although it comes out as more of a moan than she intended. It’s sexy as hell and it shoots straight between my legs, suddenly making my pants entirely too tight.

  “Mmmhmm,” I murmur with my lips against her sweet skin. I flick my tongue out and enjoy tasting her while we’re still alone in the car. “We’re staying in a three-bedroom cottage in their Beach Village.”

  “Three bedrooms?” she asks and she can’t hide the disappointment in her voice.

  I smile against her skin and pull her earlobe into my mouth. “Mmmhmm,” I murmur, intentionally waiting a few seconds before I continue. “Gives us plenty of space to stretch out.”

  Sophia smiles and lifts her hand to my face before running her fingers through my hair. “You’re teasing me, Dom. That’s not nice,” she says in mock admonition.

  “You don’t want three bedrooms?” I ask, teasing her, testing her, and loving her reaction to me.

  “Three bedrooms are fine—as long as you don’t mind that the other two won’t be used without you,” she purrs back at me.

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this, Sophia? We can wait a little longer—I can wait for you to be ready, to be sure this is what you want with me. Another week or two won’t kill me.”

  In all actuality, it may kill me. Waiting for her another hour may kill me, but it’s something I’m willing to do if it means she feels safe, secure, and protected with me. If it means that she will never compare me to her former…I can’t bring myself to call him a Sir because a real man would never treat her the way he must have. But if it means she sees he was never what I can be to her, it’s worth the wait.

  My inner Dom resurfaces and changes my tune. She will feel safe, secure, and protected with me. The only comparisons that will be made will be how lacking she finds him. And she will see that he isn’t even a real man, much less a real dominant—he’s a real dick who preys on women. I will be everything she’s ever needed, nothing she’s ever had, and the only thing she will never be able to live without again.

  I am her Dom. She will feel me when I’m not even there. She will hear my words whispered in her ear even when she’s asleep. No man will ever come close to touching her again after I’ve shown her what I can do.

  She is mine.

  Claim staked.

  Territory marked.

  Chapter Eight

  Sophia rushes from room to room in our plush beach cottage. Her excitement is palpable as she checks each room while I tip the bellhop after leaving our luggage. A squeal echoes through the room and I keep walking toward her direction. She’s standing in front of the huge picture window that overlooks the Pacific Ocean.

  “Oh, Dom, this is wonderful! I’ve never been anywhere like this before! Thank you so much for bringing me with you!” She throws her arms around my neck and hurls her body into my arms. I instinctively pull her closer to me, tightening my hold. Her breasts are pressing into my chest and her plump lips are so close to mine, the temptation is too much to resist.

  Leaning my head down slightly to meet hers, I kiss her gently at first while relishing in her taste and touch. With building urgency, the spark from our kiss ignites into an all-consuming fire, and for the first time in memory, I am slightly uncertain of maintaining my control. Only slightly, though. She makes me want to throw complete caution to the wind and figure it out as we go. Then, the next second, she makes me want to bend her over, pull her hair, and tell her to hold on tight.

  Option two is my preference.

  Lifting her higher off the floor, she wraps her legs around me as I push her back up against the wall. Her hands are in my hair and every time she pulls on it, the mixture of pleasure and pain only heightens my senses even more. My crotch is perfectly aligned with the sweet spot between her legs. Lightly grinding into her, I can feel her warmth envelop me. The moan that escapes her lips is intoxicating and I push into her again, only this time I intentionally grind into her harder than before. The thin material of our clothes is all that’s keeping me from burying myself deep inside her and not stopping until she’s screaming my name repeatedly.

  My mouth is devouring hers, and every time my tongue slides across hers, I imagine myself licking her pussy, lapping up the juices that flow from the evidence of her arousal. I fantasize about her thighs framing my face, lightly scraped and red from the scruff of my five o’clock shadow. While my fingers plunge inside her, my mouth would find the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and I would leave my mark on her. My teeth would lightly sink into her skin as I bit, licked, and sucked until she is branded by me.

  My hands are under her ass to hold her up. She’s so thin, she hardly weighs anything at all. I can easily bear her weight and carry her to the bedroom without even breaking a sweat. I pull back from our kiss and peer into her eyes. They’re like melted chocolate, asking for more and submitting to me at the same time. For now, it’s still too early to carry this any further.

  The ray of sunlight streaking through the picture window grabs the natural red tint in her hair, making it shimmer and glisten. Lowering her feet to the floor, I use my body to hold her against the wall and gently run my fingers down the length of her hair. I lean in and gently kiss her lips that are still swollen from our passionate kiss.

  “We’re in n
o hurry, Sophia. We have all the time in the world for this. I want to get to know you. I don’t want to rush this and risk building your trust in me,” I whisper to her lovingly.

  “You’re not rushing me, Dom,” her voice pleads with me to continue.

  I’m in control and won’t let her lead us down this path. When I’m convinced she’s unable to wait another second, I will be more than willing to fulfill her every need. Smiling, I gently stroke her face and peer intently into her eyes. “My Angel, let go of your fears. I’m not going anywhere. I can wait for you—until you’re ready.”

  Her eyes well up with tears but she is able to hold them back. Her emotion is raw and real. She’s both shocked and relieved that I saw past her bravado. There’s not doubt that she wants me, but there’s also no doubt that she’s not in the right frame of mind just yet. She has to start trusting me—to not hurt her, to not leave her, and to give her what she needs.

  “Let’s go to the outdoor restaurant and have some lunch, maybe a walk on the beach. Then we’ll see where the rest of the day leads us,” I offer. “We have time later to review for our meeting tomorrow. I’d like to enjoy time alone with you.”

  “I would like that, too, Dom,” she replies and I take her hand in mine. Her hand is so small and feels so fragile in mine. The abuse she suffered at the hands of the man who was supposed to care for her is the only thing holding me back from making her fully mine right now. She needs time to see me differently, but damn if I don’t want to show her how good we can be together.

  Later.

  I tug on her hand and gently pull her to the door. She takes a few steps and then stops. “Dom, don’t I need to unpack our suitcases?”

  “No, My Angel, the concierge will come in and unpack for us while we’re gone. They already know which ones not to touch,” I explain patiently.