She focused on turning her sketches into three-dimensional art, working late into the night, her obsessive-compulsive side taking over and demanding she finish the order as quickly as possible once she started. Only exhaustion drove her to the house for a few hours of sleep before she returned to the barn that housed her workshop once again. She finished the sculpture about midnight Monday night though she had yet to put her worries about Roane and the club to rest. After loading the pieces that made up the sculpture onto her flatbed trailer along with the other equipment, supplies, and tools she would need to install it at the Dreamer’s Dell Farm, she fell into bed and slept.
But her sleep was anything but restful. Pale-blue eyes and hair as black as a raven’s wing haunted her. She tossed and turned, restless with a need she could not put a name on except to wake from her dreams knowing that Roane would be the only one to cure it. During the awake times, she stared at the ceiling, trying to return to the land of slumber. Her mind continued to obsess about Master Roane and what he might want from her, both in the club and out.
She even tried to masturbate, hoping that would help her settle down and sleep, but her body was still relaxed from her encounter with Master Roane and was not interested. Finally, she gave up trying to sleep and crawled out of bed.
In the hours until she could deliver and install the metal sculpture at its new home, she worked on the household chores she never seemed to finish because she hated doing them. Once the house was clean and she felt it to be late enough in the morning, she called Suz Bowen-McKenzie to confirm it was a good day to deliver the sheep.
Twenty minutes later, she ignored the three men who approached as she backed the pickup and trailer across the grassy area in front of the international headquarters for Dreamer’s Dell, Inc., which was really a huge barn near the McKenzie house. Her plan was to park as close to flag she and Suz had planted in the yard where the sculpture would go as she could. Having worked alone for all of her career, she had learned to make her work in pieces that would be put together on site. That way she did not have to hire anyone to assist her.
Parking the truck, she took a moment to rub gritty eyes before finishing off the last of the travel mug of coffee she had been drinking on steadily since leaving the house, She really needed to buy a bigger travel mug, she admonished herself once again. She hoped Suz would take pity on her and give her a refill. She was, after all, a fellow artist only she worked with wool while Calliope worked in metal.
A knock on the window startled her. Turning, she met the same worn-denim-blue eyes that had invaded both her dreams and waking thoughts all weekend. What was Roane doing here?
Unhooking her seatbelt, she opened the door without looking at the man. “Are you stalking me?” she asked, using her most authoritative Domme voice.
“Excuse me?” The voice was not quite right, causing Calliope to frown as she climbed down from the truck. She patted her front pockets to make sure she had her phone and keys before she locked and closed the door.
“Ignore her, Penn. She thinks yer me,” another deep, accented voice spoke from her right.
Lifting her head, Calliope looked around and found herself surrounded by tall, dark hotties. Two were identical, whom she did not recognize. The third was the man who had occupied way too much of her thinking of late.
“Penn, Liam, I’d like to introduce you to Calliope Smith. Calliope, my cousins, Penn and Liam McKenzie,” Roane said.
“Oh good, you’re all here,” a bright, female voice said, drawing everyone’s attention.
Calliope turned her head and saw that Suz McKenzie had joined them.
“And where else would we be? This is, after all, our office,” one of the twins snarked as he opened his arms.
Suz walked into them without hesitation and returned the man’s kiss before turning to his lookalike and giving him the same attention. Then, with the second man’s arms still wrapped around her, she turned and looked at Calliope.
“What can they do to help you?” She offered the men’s assistance without consulting the men.
“Nothing, thanks,” Calliope said with a smile. “I’ve got everything under control.”
“Are you sure?” the man holding Suz asked as he looked at the trailer.
“I’m sure,” she answered.
“Well, if you find you do need help, we’re just inside,” the other twin said.
Calliope waved a hand to acknowledge him, though she had already shifted her attention to what needed to be done to finish the installation of this new piece. She did not notice when Suz and her men wandered off. Nor did she notice that Roane remained behind, moving around to lean against the back of her truck as he watched her get to work.
* * * *
Though he had work of his own to do, Roane found it impossible to tear himself away from watching Calliope. She paid him absolutely no attention as she pulled a shovel from the trailer and began to dig up the grass.
He shifted then, a moment later, reached down and adjusted his cock, which was perking up just watching the woman move. Instead of her meant-to-tease gypsy outfit, she wore a pair of loose-fitting blue jeans and a burnt orange, waffle-woven, long-sleeved Henley shirt with sneakers. She had pulled her hair back in a ponytail then twisted the curls together to form a single long rope of sunshine that flowed down the center of her back.
He could tell that she had no clue what she was doing to him. He was not even sure she knew he was still here. But nothing short of a gun to his head would pull him away from watching her move with an innate grace and confidence he had not witnessed before. The few times he had seen her at the club, before Friday night, she had always seemed stiff, ultra-controlled, as if afraid to relax and just be herself.
Part of that came from trying to play the role of dominant though she knew the role was a totally wrong fit. She had relaxed during their scene, but once they had returned to the main room of the club, she had stiffened up once again.
As he continued to be an avid spectator at what should have been a boring task, Roane began to think about giving Calliope another lesson in being a submissive. He began to consider whether to use the loft in the supply barn or take her for a ride to the far pasture for some privacy when a voice intruded. He sighed as the vision of a naked, trussed up Calliope bent over a blanket-covered bale of hay popped like an overfull balloon.
“Don’t you have work to do?”
“I’m doin’ it,” Roane answered easily, shifting once again to try and give his erection some breathing room.
But it was no use. Being around Calliope Smith was just too much for his system to handle, even if they were at his office and there were a dozen or more people within shouting distance.
“So you get paid for standing around doing nothing?” Calliope snarked as she returned the shovel to the trailer then picked up a bucket.
“I’m not doing anything. I’m assisting a vendor with whatever she might need,” he said when she came closer. Glancing around and seeing no one, he stopped her when she tried to slide by him to retrieve something from the bed of her truck. “And I do mean anything.”
She looked startled for a moment as she contemplated her words. As the meaning behind the words sunk in, her eyes grew wide in surprise. Then she returned his smile with one that had his cock pulsing with excitement.
“And what is it you need, Sir?” she asked softly.
“I need you to finish doing whatever it is you need to do here as fast as possible so we can go somewhere a little more private,” he took her free hand and pressed it against his erection.
Calliope’s deep-purple eyes grew impossibly bigger as her cheeks pinked up. “What do you have in mind once we’re there?”
He leaned so close that his lips brushed against her ear as he said, “I’m still working on that, but it will include my cock in at least one orifice of your body and possibly two if I have my way.”
“Oh my,” Calliope breathed before swallowing hard as her hand tightene
d around his cock.
Roane hissed at the intensity of the need that shot through him at her touch. Lifting his hand, he cupped one breast and pressed his fingertips into her flesh until she sucked a breath. “But it will wait until after you finish whatever you need to do here. Now, callie-girl, what can I do to help speed this process along?”
Chapter 6
It was well after noon before Calliope packed up the tools of her trade and declared the installation finished. She watched Roane walk around the trio of metal sheep, looking amazed once she had finished relaying the grass she had carefully pulled up hours earlier. It appeared as if the sheep had been there for weeks, if not longer, which was always her goal with a new sculpture.
“Is there somewhere I can wash my hands?” she asked as she used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe the sweat from her brow.
It took a moment for Roane to answer. He looked at her strangely, as if seeing her for the first time. She could not tell from his expression what he was thinking. Lifting her chin, she waited for him to say something derogatory or critical of her work.
Instead, he slowly smiled and nodded. “I’ll show ye the way.”
Calliope followed the man into the building and down a hall of what appeared to be offices along one side of the building. He opened the last door to the right and entered without pausing. She followed him and found herself in what appeared to be his office.
“Ye can clean up in there.” He pointed to a doorway to the left.
“Thank you,” she said, crossing and entering a full bathroom that was bigger and better than the one she had at home. Looking in the mirror, she sighed and shook her head. She had dirt smudges on her face and strands of hair flew around her head like they were Medusa’s snakes.
It took her longer to clean up than she expected, but finally she felt she had done everything she could to make herself presentable again, short of jumping in the shower, which would be completely inappropriate given the place and situation. With a sigh of resignation, Calliope opened the door and stepped into the office.
The room had undergone a subtle transformation in the minutes she had been busy. The wall of windows overlooking the back of the property was now hidden behind cream-colored, semisheer floor-to-ceiling curtains, giving them relatively complete privacy.
Roane was leaning against the front of his desk, one ankle crossed over the other, arms hanging loosely at his side. He looked like he had been sitting at his desk all day. How had he stayed so clean? His sleeves were rolled up, exposing powerful forearms. Calliope swallowed hard as she licked suddenly dry lips as her gaze dropped to the front of his jeans, which bulged with his erection. Her fingertips began to tingle with a need to see what was hiding behind the button and zipper.
His deep, dark chuckle touched a spark, which blazed to life in her pelvis. Any thought of denying the intense and instantaneous attraction between them melted away like ice cream dropped on pavement in the middle of a hot summer day. Her entire face and body burned as she forced her eyes up to look into his.
Without a word, he held out one hand. The action was a silent order. Her body obeyed immediately, not giving her brain any time to consider what was to come once she laid her hand in his.
As submissives had done to her, she laid her wrist in his hand, palm side up. Her breathing caught as she waited to see what he would do. Would he accept her submission? Or would he tease her in retaliation for not getting his rocks off Friday night?
Her breathing grew shallow as she waited for his reaction. When it came, it was hardly what she expected.
He gently closed his fingers her wrist and lifted it to his lips where he brushed a soft kiss over the pulse that was racing. The whole time he smiled at her, his blue eyes going nearly silver as he did.
“Take off yer shoes and socks, callie-girl.” His words were spoken in the deep, dark-chocolate tone that set her pussy to swelling and dampening as her will weakened until she could do nothing else save follow his orders. Her body was no longer her own, but his to do with as he pleased.
He released her and watched as she toed off her sneakers and kicked them out of the way. Then she returned to stand in front of him, feeling even smaller and more feminine than she had at the club sitting on his lap.
“No socks?” he asked, looking at her bare feet, the tops of which were streaked with dirt from earlier.
“No, Sir. I, um, well, socks strangle my ankles and I can’t think,” she answered, dropping her gaze to the third button on his shirt
“Hmmm, sounds like something we’ll have ta work on if yer ta go ta Scotland with me. Canna hae ye freezin’ yer toes off,” he said as if it was a foregone conclusion that she would be traveling with him at some point in the future.
“Now, come here and give me a kiss,” he said, uncrossing his ankles and changing his stance so he still leaned against the desk, but there was room for her to move and stand between his legs.
As she moved into position, his right arm wrapped around her upper back while his left hand followed her spine down, sliding into her the back of her jeans and lower to cup the curve of her ass. He pressed her forward until a long, thick erection pressed into her lower belly.
Only then did she remember she was wearing panties. Her nearly worn out, comfortable cotton, French-cut briefs.
“And wha’s this? Did I or did I not tell ye Friday evenin’ that ye wilna e’er wear panties in me presence?”
“You did, Sir. I’m sorry,” Calliope said, dropping her head forward.
Roane did not answer, but his arms disappeared from around her. When he said nothing more, nor did he move away, she lifted her face enough to look at him through her eyelashes. His expression was completely blank, and he appeared to be waiting for something.
“Sir?”
“Take off yer clothes.”
“My clothes, Sir?”
“Aye, lass, yer clothes. Every stitch must come off before I can render punishment for ye no’ followin’ a simple rule.”
“But, I didn’t know…” Calliope started to argue, but from the expression on his face and the white-hot fire in his eyes, she quickly changed her mind. “Yes, Sir.”
“Ye may fold them and lay them on the table over there.” He motioned to a small conference table across the room. “Then ye’ll come back and kneel before yer Master.”
There was nothing else she could do. She had screwed up, and they both knew it. Even though it was the middle of the day, obviously Roane was serious about role-playing here and now. And admitting the truth to herself, Calliope found it exciting and a bit fearful to be here with him in this way, knowing they could be interrupted at any moment.
But what would happen if someone walked in while she was naked?
That froze her midstep. She looked back over her shoulder at Roane, who was watching her impassively, but seemed to read her mind when he said, “The doors been locked, and I’ve told me cousins I’ll be unavailable for the rest of the afternoon. Now hurry up or I’ll be inclined ta increase yer punishment.”
Calliope’s breath whooshed from her as she nodded and turned away again.
She tried not to think too hard about what was to come as she quickly stripped off her clothes, folded them, and piled them on the corner of the table. She could feel the heat of his gaze with every movement.
Once she finished, she turned and slowly padded back across the room, then knelt before him but about three feet away. She tried to mimic from memory the submissive men who had knelt before her.
Knees spread. Hands on thighs. Back straight. Head down. Relax. Breathe. Wait for Master Roane’s next command.
“Relax and drop yer shoulders,” he remarked as he slowly circled her before stopping just in front of her. The outer edges of his hiking boots pressed against her inner thighs, but he did not tell her to move them.
In the deep silence of the room, the snap and zip of his jeans being opened sounded abnormally loud to her ears, and she took a breath to prepare h
erself for whatever he was about to do to her.
“Look at me, lass.”
Dropping her head back, she looked up. It took a moment to move her gaze past the longest, thickest cock she had ever seen outside of a porn movie, but after a moment of ogling, she managed to meet his gaze.
“Suck me cock, lassie, but prepare yerself for a fast response. Ye’ve got me all worked up, and it willna take much to have me shootin’ fer the moon.”
“Yes, Sir,” Calliope whispered, amazed that he was so bold and forthright about his premature ejaculation. Most men would never make such an admission, especially to a submissive they barely knew.
“Ahh, lass, yer thinkin’ too hard. Nae, I’ve no’ normally go’ a short fuse, just one tha’s been burnin’ since ye sat on me lap at the club Friday night. Now get ta work and ease yer Master’s agony.”
“Yes, Sir,” Calliope said as her confidence rose by several degrees.
Turning her attention back to the erection bobbing just inches from her nose, she lifted her right hand and wrapped it around the base. Roane hissed as her cool fingers confined his heat-radiating cock. Licking her lips again, Calliope opened her mouth and leaned forward. But instead of taking his cock into her mouth, she used her hand to lift it out of her way and went farther south, using the broadside of her tongue to lick at his balls.
Roane moaned in response, and then large, hot hands came down on her bare shoulders. “Suck me cock, callie-girl,” he ordered through gritted teeth.
Smiling at the strength of his reactions, she opened the hand holding his cock and used just the tip of her tongue to trace a line up the thick blood vessel along the underside of his cock. She felt his rapid heartbeat in the flesh and pulled her tongue away just before she reached the glans. His fingers pressed into her shoulders as her hand returned around the base.
His hips were jerking spasmodically in reaction already, so she took pity on him. Parting her lips, she took just the head into her mouth and swirled her tongue around, swabbing the head and tasting the pre-cum that coated the flared head. The grunting, groaning, and sighing sounds he made turned her on so much she was having a hard time not climbing his body to settle her pussy around his length.
The Domme Who Wasn't [Club Esoteria 14] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 4