She hesitated. “Whatever you prefer, Mason.”
His hand itched to connect with her buttocks. Yet his inner Dom needed to flex his muscles. A flogger wouldn’t suit his needs. He wanted to mark her. “Dragon’s tail.”
“Mmm. Where would you like me, Sir?”
“Hands flat on the seat of the chair. Your legs apart. No protecting your pretty little pussy from me.”
He expected her to hesitate. Instead she gently slid from his lap.
From the moment he’d first seen her, he’d been determined to have her. Now? Now he knew this taste would not be enough.
Chapter 4
Hannah settled into the position, placing her palms flat on the seat of the chair.
Already, this experience had been amazing, overwhelming her in the best possible way.
Witnessing the scene with the Dom and his sub in the medical exam room had stolen her breath. Mason had been attuned to her reactions, so much so that once they were alone, he put his own personal spin on it.
As he traced her eyebrow with incredible gentleness, she was aware that his skin was work roughened…at odds with his handsome tuxedo and businesslike demeanor. He owned a construction firm, but until a few minutes ago, she hadn’t realized he did some of the work himself. Calluses like that didn’t come from looking at blueprints and spending his days talking to architects.
Putting her name forward for the slave auction was the bravest thing she’d done since leaving Liam. Plenty of times, she’d picked up the phone to call Fiona to insist she couldn’t go through with it.
Now, waiting for her Dom’s lash, Hannah couldn’t believe she’d stayed away from the lifestyle for so long.
She’d allowed her terrible experiences with her ex to change her life, and now she was reclaiming it. And she couldn’t be happier.
Ever since he placed the winning bid, Mason handled her skillfully, from coming backstage to taking her someplace to talk. He was the perfect Dom for her reintroduction to BDSM. And that wasn’t even factoring in the exquisite orgasm she just had. It was powerful, as energizing as it was relaxing. If she had another dozen or so, she might be able to sleep the entire night.
“The first few won’t count.”
His words, delivered in an uncompromising tone, jolted her from her musings. “Sir?”
“Were you not listening to me, Hannah?”
“I’m sorry, Sir.” She turned her head a little so that she could look at him. Her mouth dried at the sight of the red-handled dragon’s tail dangling from his right hand. “I was…”
He waited.
“Thinking how wonderful you are.”
“Oh Hannah. That wasn’t said to get me to go easy on you.”
It was sincere, and she appreciated that he realized it.
“No, Sir. I didn’t know who would bid on me.” If anyone. For weeks, if not months, she’d believed Liam’s taunts, that she wasn’t sexy enough, curvy enough, submissive enough. When Jax asked for seven thousand dollars, and silence had echoed through the club, shame had washed through her. Liam’s words echoed over and over. Not enough. But in seconds, Mason had slayed her demons. “I’m glad you did.”
He crouched beside her. As he had earlier, he took hold of her chin. He kissed her, in the most tender way possible, then replied. “I’m glad I did, too.”
As he released her, she closed her eyes.
“Please give me your full attention.”
She blinked him into focus.
“You will know when I begin to give you the eight stripes that you deserve. Until then, don’t bother counting.”
Warm-up spanks. “Yes, Sir.”
“You were listening this time.”
Mason started above the backs of her knees and worked his way up her legs—inside, outside, beneath her buttocks, on her ass cheeks, changing directions—never letting her know what to expect.
They were sharp little stings, not lasting more than a moment or two, all delivered from different angles, some straight across, others diagonally.
Hannah allowed her head to drop forward, surrendering her body to his satisfying strokes.
Surprising her, she began to get aroused again.
“Stunning.” As he murmured approval, he skimmed a knuckle down her spine.
Instinctively she thrust her hips back a little.
“That’s it. Are you ready for more?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Eight.”
With him, she didn’t tense at all. Instead, she waited. Trusted.
The first lick was so shocking that she curled her fingers.
He paused to draw his finger across the leather’s path. “That red mark looks pretty on your skin.”
Mason was close enough to fill her senses, with his deep, soothing baritone and commanding touch. On her next breath, she inhaled him—springtime, with its relentless promise of renewal. Right now, she clung to that as if it were a promise.
He gave her plenty of time to recover, enough that the pain vanished entirely. And she found she missed it. “Another, Sir.”
“I’ll set the pace, little one. I enjoy your responses, the small welt, the way your body moves, and surely, the way you will fatigue from being in that position, which will cause you to struggle to follow my orders. Or perhaps you’ll give yourself over to me entirely and cease caring about how you look.”
His frighteningly perceptive words made her freeze.
“You’re in your head, Hannah. That’s completely fine. When I’m doing my job as I should, perhaps when we repeat this later, you’ll lose yourself. I’m looking forward to it because it will mean you trust me enough that you’ll show me the real you.”
Was she hiding?
The suggestion made her shake her head. She was being as real as she knew how.
While she was still turning the idea around, he striped her again, on the fleshy part of her left ass cheek.
She curved her hands into even tighter fists.
His next two were on her upper right thigh, in that tender spot right beneath her buttock.
“Halfway. Take a break if you need it.”
A break?
“You know what to expect now. That should make it easier.”
She pushed herself upright to look at him. He hung the dragon’s tail from the back of the chair, then folded his arms across his broad chest. His bowtie was still in place, and his starched shirt was snowy against his tanned skin.
He continued to regard her, and she shifted beneath his penetrating stare, very much aware of her nudity, her submissiveness.
To escape his scrutiny, Hannah wrapped her arms around herself.
“I like to look.”
Liam certainly hadn’t.
But she nodded and lowered her arms to her sides
“Much better.” He reached for her, to toy with her nipples, not hard enough for her tastes, but a tease that left her needy.
“I like this. Keeping your awareness high. It will keep your attention on me.”
“Sir, all my attention is yours already.”
“Is it? Is it really? Or are you spending some time in your head?”
She sighed, and it took all her willpower not to hide from him again.
“Maybe, since we only have a short time together, you can tell me about it?”
“You paid an outrageous amount of money for a weekend with me.” She gave him a seductive smile, or what she hoped passed as one. “Are you sure you want to talk instead of play?”
“The better I know you, the better the scene.”
“I’m ready to proceed whenever you are, Sir.”
A smile tugged at his lips, and he appeared to struggle to hold it back. “I do believe that was your polite way of telling me to fuck off.”
“Please don’t make me use the impolite version. Sir.” But with his nonjudgmental reaction, he’d chipped away at the wall she’d constructed around her emotions.
He unfolded his arms. “Give me the dragon’s
tail, Hannah.”
Relieved, she blew out a breath. “Yes, Sir.” Fortunately, following his order allowed her to look away from his eyes and to shift her focus, both small mercies.
His hand was extended, and she placed the implement in his palm. “Thank you. You may resume your position.”
This was why she’d wanted to attend the slave auction. The protocol involved in a scene grounded her with a sense of purpose, and the bites of leather transformed into pleasure.
Once again, she bent to flatten her hands on the chair, and she parted her legs, ready for whatever he had in mind.
He moved behind her, then came in close enough that his trousers touched her skin. He made small circles on her back and made his way down to her buttocks. “Not a single mark remains.”
Hannah hoped that wouldn’t be the case after the weekend. She wanted something to remember him by.
He held each of her legs, and she imagined he was checking them for marks as well.
“The warm-up was effective.”
Instead of spanking her this time, he forcefully rubbed her thighs and buttocks. He moved her around, and she fought to stay in position. She wasn’t aware of him taking his hands off her or moving away, and his first strike seared, catching her off guard.
Instead of crying out, she sighed. It came from somewhere deep, a place she’d buried, one that was hungry.
It hurt.
It was perfect.
Hannah rolled her shoulders and settled in once again. Another hundred of those wouldn’t be enough.
He was measured as he was miserly, and he hung the flogger from the chair after he’d delivered the remaining stripes.
Like a proper Dom, he massaged the places the dragon’s tail had landed.
She sighed again, this time from disappointment that it was already over.
He helped her to stand, and he cupped her shoulders. “How was it?”
“Thank you. Those last four were wonderful.”
“And?”
She searched his eyes. Was he asking for reassurance that he was a good Dom? Wondering if she was mentally and physically all right? Or was he seeking honesty? That was where she’d learned to be careful. Liam never wanted feedback on a scene. “I’m doing fine. Thank you.”
“Good.” He sat. “Get dressed, please.”
His command confused her.
“Feel free to take your time.”
Hannah drew her eyebrows together. “Are we finished?” He’d secured a private room and bought over five hundred dollars’ worth of toys—not to mention condoms—just for them to leave?
“For the evening? No. I’d like to take you home, after we talk.”
He was so confoundingly unlike any other Dom she’d known.
But he was man enough to enjoy watching her work the bikini bottoms up her legs, then settle the string into place between her ass cheeks.
The top was a little more of a challenge. She thought he might offer to help, but he didn’t. Instead, he was fixated on her hardened nipples.
She scooped up the filmy sarong and knotted it at the shoulder, not as nicely as Fiona had earlier. Finally, she slipped her feet back into the high heels. Even in those, she hadn’t reached his chin earlier.
“And now, you may see to my needs.” He extended an arm, and she rolled down the sleeves, aware of his honed strength.
After finishing, she moved on to the next one before crossing the room to pick up his cufflinks.
They were heavy, and one of them winked in the light. “Are the owl’s eyes emeralds?”
“Yes.”
“And real gold?” She closed her hand around the precious metal.
Hannah looked at him anew. When she’d had her fantasy about him earlier in the evening, she hadn’t suspected that he was the kind of man who had tens of thousands of dollars to spend on a weekend. The cufflinks warming in her hand had to have cost a small fortune.
Under his watchful gaze, she returned to him.
“Judging?”
“No.” But was she? She didn’t hang out in circles with the ultrarich or even the sort-of rich. Her parents had divorced when she was young. Though they both worked hard, money was always tight. Christmas gifts had often been secondhand, and back-to-school outfits had been purchased at the thrift shop. After graduation, Hannah had attended a junior college while she worked to save money, and studied hard to transfer to a bigger four-year institution. “I’m just curious.” In her job as a corporate travel associate, she booked trips all over the world for the company’s leaders. She dealt with their assistants and never with the executives themselves.
She was familiar with some of the planet’s most luxurious resorts because she was involved in planning the board of director’s annual retreat. Because they could write off the expense, it was generally held in some exotic location, places that were out of reach for her.
Driving from Austin to New Orleans was her version of a vacation.
Mason cleared his throat, and she shook her head to clear it. “Sorry, Sir.” Her heels tapped on the wood floor as she walked toward him. In front of him, she stood between his spread thighs to thread the pricey pieces of metal through the cuffs on his shirt.
“Very nice.” He placed his hands on her hips and moved her back a couple of steps so he could stand. “My jacket?”
“Of course.” She held it for him while he slipped it on. Automatically, she brushed the shoulders, then walked around him to smooth the lapels.
Doing personal tasks for a Dom was new for her as well. It was intimate, and she enjoyed it more than she imagined she might.
After he packed the dragon’s tail and stowed her collar in one of the bag’s compartments, Mason used a wipe to sanitize the chair and the tabletop.
Once he faced her, nerves fluttered anew. She’d had a taste of his dominance, and it had ignited a craving. The floggers were inside his bag, and she wanted to feel both of them on her skin. And then there was the box of condoms.
Suddenly she realized her palms were still on his jacket. Though he studied her, he said nothing as she pulled away.
“Shall we?”
This time, he placed his hand in the middle of her back as they exited, then descended the stairs to find a snuggle couch.
“This really isn’t necessary, Sir,” she said when he sat beside her on the overstuffed velvet cushions.
“I thought we should talk for a minute.”
And she wanted to continue to play. Eight strokes, no matter how well delivered, could hardly be counted as a scene.
“You’re okay?”
She nodded.
“Nothing too much for you?”
“Just your relentless questions.” Instantly she regretted her answer. “I apologize. That was too honest.”
He grinned while she twisted her fingers together. Then she tried, in her own awkward way, to make amends.
“But the lashes were wonderful.”
“And harder would have been fine?” he surmised. “Along with a higher number of strokes?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” He nodded. “Good to know.”
As if they were longtime lovers, he brushed her hair aside and made absent circles on her nape.
Until she closed her eyes, she didn’t realize she’d been holding on to some tension.
“I’m glad you’re letting your guard down.” He continued his light massage as he spoke. “I’d like for you to come back to my house, but I will understand if that makes you uncomfortable. I imagine you’re in a hotel? Or perhaps staying with friends?”
“With Fiona. She was in the auction also.”
“If it’s better for you, we can just plan to meet tomorrow morning and take it from there.”
She sat up so she could face him. Being accommodating hadn’t helped with Liam. Instead, it had left her unsatisfied. This time, with a new Dom, she had a chance to start over and do things differently. And that included speaking up. “I’d like to go home
with you, Sir.”
“Do you have everything you need to spend the night?”
“I have a bag, yes. Toiletries, a change of clothes.”
“Excellent.” He didn’t stop his tender motions. “That was the answer I was hoping for.”
“This is where you live?” With shock and not a little amount of awe, she looked up at the stunning two-story white house with its wrought-iron double porches.
“Long story.”
“I’m looking forward to all the details.”
He used a remote control to open the gate, and when he parked, she reached for the door handle.
“Wait for me. Please.”
Hannah dropped her hand into her lap. “Of course, Sir.” No one had ever helped her from a car before, and waiting for him to grab his bag and round the hood made her a little uncomfortable.
He opened her door and offered his hand. The moment she slid her palm against his, everything was right with the world again. He wasn’t like any other man, but there was a natural order to their relationship that she liked. “Thank you.”
When she was away from the vehicle, he flicked the door closed.
The heavy spring air wrapped around her like a cloying blanket, but even that didn’t distract from her fascination with his house. “Your home is stunning.”
“Three years ago, it wasn’t.”
Of course. He was in construction.
He invited her through the courtyard.
“This is a fabulous space.” She looked around. There were no tables or chairs, yet there was plenty of room for one. “A lot of potential.”
“Are you remodeling it in your head?”
“No.” She followed him up the couple of stairs leading to the back door. “Well, maybe thinking about a gazebo. And a table with chairs.”
“You are remodeling.”
They entered a mudroom where he hung his bag. “You’re welcome to leave your belongings here. Or there’s a table in the foyer, if you prefer.”
“Thanks. I’ll put them closer to where I’ll need them.”
She followed him into a kitchen that was a chef’s dream, and hers too. The countertops appeared to be quartz, and there was a gigantic island. She trailed her fingers over the edge. “I love this waterfall style.”
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