In the Den

Home > Romance > In the Den > Page 2
In the Den Page 2

by Sierra Cartwright


  “Yes, Sir.”

  In that same, reassuring voice he went on, “Is there anything you’re uncomfortable with?”

  “I’d like to leave on my panties, Sir,” Susan whispered with her head turned.

  He took her chin and recaptured her gaze. “Of course you may leave on your panties. Anything else I can do to reassure you?”

  She shook her head but started to fold her arms.

  “It appears there may be something else you’re reluctant to tell me.”

  “Ah… I have very sensitive nipples, Sir.”

  “Then I’ll treat your nipples with all due respect.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” She gave a tentative smile.

  “And do you have a safe word, Susan?”

  “Stop.”

  “So, to be clear, stop means stop.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “And a slow word?”

  “Slow, Sir.”

  “Got it. We’ll take a break if you use the word slow.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “You’re also aware that ‘halt’ is the house safe word?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  In that instant, Catrina understood why Damien taught demos at the open house events. It was one thing to inform Doms that they needed to make their sub feel comfortable, but Damien was a genius. He was repeating what Susan said, but not in parrot-fashion. He soothed and built trust not only with the way he spoke but with physical touch. It was subtle and elegant. Maybe he had been correct in thinking she could learn something from him, as much as that thought rankled.

  Transfixed, she took a drink while she watched him undress Susan. He could have ordered the sub to strip. Instead, he squeezed her shoulders and ran his fingers over the skin he bared. “Now I’d like to remove your bra.”

  Catrina gulped. The seduction in his tone made her wish the words were directed at her.

  “Yes, Sir,” Susan said.

  He turned Susan so that her back was to him.

  After he’d released the clasp, he turned her once again. Her shoulders were rolled backwards so that the bra remained in place.

  “Thank you for your trust,” he continued, drawing the straps down her arms. “Remember you can stop or slow down at any time.” When he’d removed the lacy black brassiere and handed it to Gregorio, Damien put his hands on her and said, “You’re beautiful, Susan.”

  As if a switch had been turned on, she smiled, and her cheeks flushed with color, making her look radiant. Hesitancy had been replaced with confidence, impressing Catrina.

  She couldn’t look away even if she wanted to, as he cupped Susan’s breasts and flicked his thumbs across her nipples. Her eyes closed. As he continued, she moaned and moved toward him, curling her fingers around his wrists.

  Catrina clutched her glass.

  Shock tightened her throat. Damien’s concentration seemed riveted on Susan. It appeared as if neither of them were aware of the dozens of people observing them.

  For the first time, Catrina saw submission and dominance from an entirely different perspective. For them, nothing seemed to exist outside of one another, and Damien’s attention didn’t wander from the woman under his care.

  Catrina took care of her men, meeting their needs. In return, she had at least one magnificent climax. Until now, that had been enough.

  “Tell me what you want, Susan.”

  “An orgasm, Sir.”

  He smiled. “Oh, you’ll most certainly earn that.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” Her knees buckled.

  “Can you wait?” he asked.

  “If it’s your desire, Sir.”

  “You’re a very pleasing submissive. Tell me what we’re demonstrating this evening.”

  “A flogging, Sir.”

  “I’d like to make love to you with my flogger,” Damien said.

  As if she were the one standing in front of him, Catrina’s insides melted. The man had hypnotic appeal.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Catrina had never looked at a man the way Susan was looking at Damien, eyes wide with trust and reverence.

  Damien led Susan to the hearth and placed her hands on the mantel. “Legs farther apart for me,” he said, his words like a caress.

  Susan moved into position.

  “I can secure you in place, if you’d like?”

  “I’ll remain as I am, Sir, if that’s okay with you?”

  “Perfect,” he replied.

  She looked lovely, wearing only her panties. She’d been trembling earlier, but now she was still. Though Catrina would never admit it, Damien’s power held her spellbound.

  Damien had said he wanted to make love to her with his flogger, and that’s exactly what he seemed to do. He started with tender leather kisses, licking at the woman’s shoulders and back. He let the strands fall in gentle waves.

  Catrina had never wielded a handle with such skill. She told herself it was because a man’s skin was much tougher than a woman’s, but now she questioned whether she’d assumed too much.

  She watched as he brought Susan’s body to life. He increased the intensity of his blows on her panty-covered buttocks. Her cries were whimpers of desire, not of distress. She appeared to surrender not only to Damien but to the flogger.

  Goosebumps rose on Catrina’s arms, and her skin tingled with anticipation. And she knew one thing. She didn’t want to watch Damien please another woman.

  Confused by the irrational thoughts careening through her, she gulped the last of her drink then slammed the empty glass down and headed toward the foyer.

  “I’d like to be on the next shuttle to Winter Park,” she told the submissive.

  “It will be about twenty minutes, Milady. Jeff’s just on his way back now.”

  Catrina nodded, said thanks then found the women’s locker room. The place was empty, and she exhaled in relief. She took several minutes to smooth her hair, straighten her skirt, adjust her corset and splash cool water onto her face.

  All that done, she felt more in control. She pulled back her shoulders and stepped into the hallway. Damien stood there, overwhelming the space, blocking her way.

  She started to take an instinctive step back, but managed to stop herself.

  Power cloaked him. Before sanity returned, she wondered what it would be like to play with him.

  “You were there,” he said. “At the demonstration.”

  “I had nothing better to do.”

  “What did you think?”

  She shrugged. “You know what you’re doing.”

  “Weren’t you curious to know what it would be like to be in her position?”

  “Not at all. I can have a gorgeous man at my feet and tell him exactly what to do.”

  “Is that what you want? Or do you want a man who will concentrate all his efforts on pleasing you?”

  “I have that now.”

  “Do you?” he countered. “Do your men give you the attention I gave Susan?”

  “Of course.”

  “You ought to be taken to task for your lack of honesty.”

  She shivered. With a stubborn tilt of her chin she snapped back, “How dare you?”

  “You looked down and to the left before answering,” he said. Then, softer, seducing her with his voice, despite the nature of their conversation, he continued, “When was the last time anyone cared enough to watch your movements so intently that they knew you were lying? Do all your relationships exist strictly on the surface? Do you give no one a piece of your soul?”

  His questions wormed their way inside her. They were the same ones that she ran away from. When they caught up to her, she turned up the volume on her television or distracted herself on her elliptical machine, music blaring from ear buds.

  “Aren’t you curious about what you’re missing?”

  “No.”

  “Another lie?”

  She shook her head quickly. Too quickly.

  He dropped his arms and advanced toward her. This time, she retrea
ted. “Damien…”

  “You know the house safe word,” he told her. “You can use it at any time. But you aren’t going to, are you?”

  Jesus. God. What the hell was happening here?

  Her back was to the wall. This close, she was overwhelmed by his masculine scent and determination.

  His blue eyes were as dark as a twilight sky. A tiny pulse in his jaw mesmerized her.

  “Is your pussy wet, Milady?”

  “From what? Being near you? Watching your little demo? Not at all.” His words suffocated her. And her pussy was wet. Damn it.

  Impossibly, he took another step closer. With one hand, he captured her wrists and pinned them above her.

  Her chest rose and fell as emotions tumbled through her. She shouldn’t want to interact with him. With Susan, he’d been gentle, but there was nothing soothing in the way he held her, overwhelmed her. But, just as he had watched the other woman, he was directing that same intensity at her, figuring out what she wanted, how she preferred to be dealt with.

  He touched the knuckles of his free hand to her throat.

  She kept her eyes wide, pretending she wasn’t affected.

  His touch was so gentle that she hardly felt it. Continuing, Damien skimmed down the center of her chest, bare skin to bare skin.

  Then he traced beneath her right breast. He held her gaze, not blinking. She’d never had anyone’s attention like this, and it was heady.

  Even through her outfit, her nipple hardened when he moved over it.

  There wasn’t a part of her that wasn’t aware of him.

  “Open your mouth.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m going to kiss you.”

  She started to protest, but he dove inside her. She expected him to coax her. Instead, he consumed her.

  He forced his way in, tasting of an intoxicating blend of persuasion and dominance. The thrusts of his tongue made her mouth water. He insinuated a thigh between her legs, and despite her resolve, she rubbed herself against him.

  The woman in her recognized his mental as well as physical strength. This was a man powerful enough for her to trust. He’d never push her too far, but he would demand everything, that she hold nothing back, and maybe give more than she ever had to anyone.

  As impossible as it was to believe, he deepened the kiss. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. And suddenly she didn’t want to.

  She felt an orgasm start to unfurl.

  A Dom and sub moved past them, and Damien never allowed his attention to wander.

  He kissed her until she began to shake.

  As quickly as he’d started, he eased away. He adjusted their positions and hiked up her skirt. He moved a hand between her legs and slipped his fingers beneath her thong.

  “Your pussy is wet, Milady.”

  She shook her head and he laughed. It was a satisfied, rather than triumphant sound.

  “Shall I finish you off?” he asked, pressing a thumb to her swollen clit.

  “I…”

  “It’s just you and me. I’ll keep your secret. No one will have to know.”

  She wanted to refuse, should refuse. But she’d never known desire this debilitating. Even if she found someone else or went somewhere to satisfy herself, it wouldn’t be the same. She needed him.

  He made maddening circles on her clit, and he had one finger teasing her entrance.

  “Do it,” she instructed.

  “Ask.”

  Damien was making it clear he was in charge, not her. No doubt he’d give her what she wanted, but her compliance would be the cost. “Yes,” she said. “I’d like an orgasm.”

  When he didn’t change the tempo, she closed her eyes. He allowed her the time and the space to wage her internal battle. Sensations assailed her, forcing her body to relax. She became a puddle of feminine hunger. “Please,” she whispered.

  “Look at me.”

  She did.

  “Ask again.”

  She understood. He wouldn’t let her escape or pretend she hadn’t been aware of what she was doing. “Please, Damien. Give me an orgasm.”

  “My pleasure, Milady.”

  He circled her clit and inserted two fingers deep inside her pussy. He finger-fucked her as he teased her clit.

  Her legs shook with the force of his movements.

  There was nothing sweet about this, and it was beyond hot. “Damien.” This man was watching her reactions and responding to them.

  “Come for me, Catrina.”

  He pressed his fingers against her G-spot.

  Mindless of her surroundings, she screamed as the climax crashed into her. He helped her ride it, keeping his grip tight on her wrists, pressing her against the wall, supporting her body.

  “So, so perfect,” he said.

  She screamed a second time, shattered. Her body went limp, but she wasn’t worried, he was there, holding her in a firm but tender grip.

  It seemed like minutes later when she blinked and looked at him.

  “Welcome back,” he said.

  “That was…” She held back the words, desperate to be on firm footing again.

  “For me, too.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “I adore a woman who is so responsive. I appreciate you playing with me.” He moved his hand from between her legs and straightened her thong and skirt.

  She pulled her wrists free from his grip. “It changes nothing.”

  “Maybe not for you. It makes me want to know you more.”

  “Do you always use sweet words to make all the women swoon, Damien?”

  “That was a scene, and you know it. This is different.”

  “Is it?”

  He took her hand and placed it on his crotch. “You tell me.”

  “So? You have a hard-on.”

  “Were you born a cynic?”

  She shook her head. “Life taught me.”

  “I can teach you other things, show you a different perspective. You’ll be a better Domme for the experience.”

  “You did that to prove something to me?”

  “Partially.”

  She wasn’t sure if she was hurt or shocked or pissed. “At least you’re honest.” She put up a hand to push him away.

  “The truth is, I did that because I wanted to get you off, because I’m attracted to you.”

  Just because he sounded sincere, didn’t mean he was.

  “Give me two weeks,” Damien said.

  “What?”

  “I’m challenging you. Spend two weeks with me, submit to me, see if the experience transforms you.”

  “Not just no, but hell no.”

  “What are you scared of?”

  “Nothing scares me.” Another lie. Plenty scared her, and with good reason.

  “Then agree to it. You’ve got nothing to lose. You’ll experience new things, get to spend a few days up here, have a chance to relax in a way you never have.”

  “Relax?” she scoffed.

  “What would it be like if you could be yourself and let go, turn over control to someone else for a while?”

  “I can’t,” she said, her heart thundering. That was as honest as she’d been with anyone, ever.

  He inclined his head, showing he’d heard the fear in her voice. Damn him.

  “Was it scary when I brought you off?”

  She shook her head.

  “When I made you ask for it?”

  “No.”

  A woman on her way to the locker room walked past without disturbing them.

  “I will demolish your barriers, Catrina.”

  A traitorous part of her wanted to say yes. Instead, she met his gaze. His eyes were dark, probing. She was afraid he saw too much.

  He brushed a strand of hair back from her face.

  She had to go before her resolve crumpled. “Thanks for the orgasm. My shuttle will be here soon.”

  He moved aside. As she walked past, he swatted her, catching the bare flesh above her s
tockings and below her buttocks.

  Shock stole her breath. She stopped and rounded on him. Before she could speak, Damien had her against the wall, overwhelming her with his scent, his presence.

  The sting receded, leaving a tantalizing warmth that stunned her and made it impossible to string coherent thoughts together. Despite herself, she grabbed his shoulders and held on tight.

  He leaned forward and kissed her forehead before moving lower to graze her neck.

  His gentleness surprised her, obliterating her defenses.

  “Be at my place in Denver tomorrow night at eight,” he whispered in her ear. “Just the two of us, Catrina.”

  “You know I can’t.”

  “If two weeks is too frightening, start with one night. Eight o’clock,” he repeated. “Be there.”

  Chapter Two

  “You’re out of your mind,” Catrina told him. And the fact she was still hanging onto him proved that she was out of hers, too.

  “Am I? Or am I offering what you secretly want?”

  She maneuvered her hands to push him away. Budging him, she found out, was something that required his cooperation. Big, intractable men were another reason she liked being a Domme. “Move,” she instructed.

  “You’re bossy.”

  “I’m assertive,” she corrected. “Don’t you forget it, mister.”

  With a smile capable of making her forget her resolve, Damien stepped back. Trying to think rationally, she escaped.

  Gregorio was in the foyer, his arms crossed as usual.

  “I’ve got to get out of here.”

  He gave a sharp nod. “Of course.”

  After what seemed like hours, he returned with her coat and small handbag.

  “I couldn’t find the hatcheck girl,” he admitted. “So it took me a minute.”

  Tension continued to tighten her stomach.

  Then Damien—damn him—reappeared at her side. He plucked her coat from her Gregorio’s grip.

  “I don’t need your help,” she insisted.

  “Regardless, you’ve got it.” He moved behind her.

  Deciding not to struggle with him, she shrugged into her coat.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “Thank you,” she said, looking at him. “I’ve got it from here.”

  He held up a hand. “I’m being prudent. It’s snowing, and your boots aren’t made for the ice.”

 

‹ Prev