Catrina wrinkled her nose. “Are you planning what I think you’re planning?”
“I hope so.”
“I’m not sure about this.”
“You can always refuse,” he reminded her.
“No way.”
“I didn’t think you would.”
“Don’t gloat.”
“Never, Milady.”
Milady again. From him, it sounded more affectionate than a term of respect. But she didn’t mind.
“You may be more comfortable if you remove that contraption from your hair.”
She reached up, but halted when he asked, “May I?”
“Thank you.”
He pulled out the chopstick and her hair tumbled around her shoulders and down her back. “Doesn’t matter which way you wear it,” he said, “it’s fabulous.” He smoothed it to one side. “Now let’s get on with it.”
The quartz slab beneath her bare body was firm and cool, a startling contrast to the heat chasing through her.
“This is your reward for honoring my request not to touch yourself. Though I might have enjoyed the idea of you sucking your juices from your fingers.” He moved between her legs and parted her labia.
Though she squirmed, he didn’t reprimand her. Nor did he command her to remain still.
When he placed his thumb against her clit, she lifted her hips scandalously.
“That’s it,” he said.
She wished she could see his expression, but he bent to lick her from back to front.
The pressure of his tongue nearly undid her. She cried out, already on the verge of climaxing.
“Come whenever you want.”
It hadn’t occurred to her that he might make her delay her orgasm. She oftentimes compelled her subs to wait, and Damien’s words brutally reinforced the fact that, in coming here, she had ceded a certain amount of control to him.
All those thoughts vanished when he slid a finger inside her.
Desperately she dug her heels into cabinets beneath her as she tried to lift her hips even higher.
Her insides tightened and her juices flowed.
The combination of the way he simultaneously finger-fucked and ate her proved to be her undoing. “Damien!” She reached for his head and buried her hands in his hair.
In response to her urgings, he inserted a second finger inside her. She tried to sit up, or get away, anything.
He was wonderful and unyielding, licking her pussy, moving his fingers. This was a hell of a reward. She suddenly understood why Susan had looked at him with such awe. When you were the focus of Master Damien Lowell’s attentions, you felt it. It was as if the rest of the world had been shut out.
She called out his name again as she tightened all her muscles in anticipation. Blood rushed in her ears.
This was…
Her thoughts fractured and she could no longer think.
An orgasm washed over her, its engulfing energy more potent than anything she’d ever experienced. Desperately gripping his hair, she screamed.
But Damien didn’t stop.
“More,” he said, his breath on her heated flesh.
“I… I can’t.” She meant it. The first had taken so much out of her, and she needed time to recover. That hadn’t been a polite little climax—it had taken all she had. If he kept this up, she would just be uncomfortable.
“Stop fighting me.” He flicked his tongue back and forth across her clit, faster and faster, ignoring her gasping protests.
Impossibly, a second orgasm began to churn inside her. She knew she wouldn’t be able to find relief, but she couldn’t force her mouth to work long enough to say anything other than his name.
He stretched her wider, overwhelming her. Then he reached up, twisted and squeezed one of her nipples.
The added sensation was enough, and she froze, unable to breathe.
He continued his relentless sensual assault, making her writhe from the exquisite combination of sensations, both pleasure and pain, until she spiraled into an abyss.
Time blurred.
She had no idea how long she lay there, but slowly she became aware that he’d removed his fingers and had stopped tormenting her clit.
When she opened her eyes, she saw him standing there, broad, tall, steady. He was fully dressed and she was splayed open before him, her labia swollen and exposed. Embarrassment made her lick her lips.
He helped her to sit up, then he removed his shirt.
She blinked. Did he want to fuck her on the countertop? “You can’t be serious.”
“I assure you I am.” But one of those deadly smiles played at the corners of his mouth.
Surprising her, he put his shirt on her then untucked her hair. The black T-shirt enveloped her, and she snuggled into its warmth. The cotton was stamped by his scent, that of prestige and power, and she inhaled it deeply. She wouldn’t tell him, but she had no intention of returning the garment to him.
“I need to keep you warm. I always take care of what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours,” she protested.
“For now, you are. Get used to it. Warmer?”
“Thanks, yes.”
His rugged handsomeness stole her breath. She’d wondered what he looked like, but the first glance of his bare chest exceeded her expectations. A smattering of hair arrowed downwards to disappear beneath the waistband of his jeans. She was tantalized, aching to touch him.
He eased her down to the floor and held her close.
Looking up at him, she said, “I suppose I should take care of you now. Give you a blowjob or something.”
“I’m not done with you yet.”
“Oh. Right. You need to tie me up before you fuck me or something equally diabolical.”
“You can relax. I don’t typically beat women until the second date.” He snagged both glasses of wine.
Curious, she followed him into the living room and joined him on the couch that faced the fireplace. She tucked her legs beneath her and accepted the merlot. “This is an odd dungeon,” she said.
“Building your anticipation.”
“Uh, I’m good with never seeing it.” Until tonight, she’d had no idea he had a sense of humor. That made her appreciate him all the more. “But I am puzzled as to what we’re doing.” What hot-blooded man wouldn’t want to screw immediately after licking her cunt?
He faced her. “Talking.”
“Talking?” With her being so exposed and his bare chest?
“That’s the most important part of submission. The physical connection matters, but I’m considerably more interested in your brain than anything else.”
“I’m not sure if you’re being serious here.”
“Very much. When you fully offer yourself to me, it will mean you’ve shared your emotions, your fears, vulnerabilities. Everything.”
She laughed. “Good luck with that. That’s what I have my girlfriends for. I don’t do that with men.”
“You prefer they keep their place, under your foot?”
“That sounds harsh.”
“But true?”
She took a sip of her wine and allowed her hair to fall forward to hide her expression. As he had earlier, Damien brushed back the strands.
“I’d prefer you look at me when we talk.”
She met his gaze and wished his eyes weren’t that shocking shade of blue. He seemed to see into her, as if intent on prying out all her secrets. Despite the room’s warmth, she shivered.
“When did you become a Domme? After a bad relationship?”
“So you became a Dom after a woman challenged you? You had to become a big, bad alpha male to prove something?”
Maddeningly, he kept his calm.
“I’ve always been a Dom,” he responded, his voice as easy and well-modulated as it had been all evening. “There wasn’t a moment or an event. It’s not the same for you.”
“What makes you all-knowing, all-seeing?” She scooted away from him. To his credit, he let her go.<
br />
“Because of the way you snapped at me just now.”
“I didn’t.”
“I touched a nerve, Milady. I can live with that. In fact, I was hoping to do it. I meant it when I told you I want to know everything you’ve never shown anyone else.”
“I was engaged,” she said. “Until Joseph cleaned out the account we’d opened together.” She tipped back her head. “We were saving for the wedding and for a house. Before he left, he maxed out my credit cards as well. And the worst thing about it…”
“Go on.”
Damien hadn’t tried to placate her or comfort her. He was simply listening.
“I freaking knew better,” she finished. “Dad vanished before I was born, and my mother struggled her entire life, working two jobs to support us. I should have learnt from her, but I didn’t. I fell in love and was goo-goo starry-eyed.” She slid her glass onto the coffee table. “Once was enough.”
“It seems like a leap from a guy being a dick to you being a Domme.”
“I decided I would be in charge of my life, make my own decisions after that. I wanted to be equal in every way.” Todd’s words, though, haunted her. Had she bypassed equal and gone for control freak?
“All of your relationships have been casual since then?”
When she looked at him, he shrugged and added, “You’ve been coming to the Den for several years. I’ve rarely see you with the same sub.”
“You’re observant. There was one fairly serious relationship after my engagement ended,” she confessed. “I…” She hesitated, choosing her words. “Todd was a nice guy, but boring, and so was the sex. So I took charge, and he took exception. Then I was at a party one day. My friend Joann had one too many margaritas and was entertaining everyone with the story. One of the guys there offered to kiss my feet. We all had a great laugh about it, but it turned out he’d meant it. He was a submissive, and he helped me explore my role. I took to it rather naturally.”
“And now you want to accept my invitation to explore the dynamic from the other side.”
“For one night. That’s what we agreed.” She said no more. He didn’t need to know that after she’d left him, she’d been restless and filled with angst.
While she remained firm that she didn’t want to trust a man again, she rationalized that she was simply playing with Damien. It didn’t have to lead to anything serious. She was a grownup. They both knew the score. Why not have some fun?
“You’re intrigued.”
“Yes.”
“Any other reason?”
She shook her head.
“How do you deal with one of your subs lying to you?”
Goosebumps chased up her arms. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s a general question.”
“My subs don’t lie to me.”
“Of course not. Your relationships aren’t deep enough for that.”
She opened her mouth to protest but closed it again. “That’s a little unfair.”
“Theoretically, then,” he said. “What would you do?”
The conversation was making her squirm. “I don’t know. Give him a spanking, maybe. Orgasm denial. Maybe a chastity device for a while.” She grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest. “What’s your approach?”
“First thing, I would try to find out the reason. Is she being a brat and hoping to get in trouble? Some subs crave a punishment as a way to feel cherished. Or is my beautiful sub scared? Maybe trying to protect her emotions? Has she been dishonest with herself for so long that she can no longer recognize the truth?”
He couldn’t be talking to her, about her… Being with Damien was far scarier to her emotional health than she’d imagined.
“More than anything, I’d hope to establish the kind of relationship where my sub instinctively comes to me with issues and challenges. I’d want her to know I’d be there for her, that I was a rock in her life, someone she could turn to, no matter the crisis. After we figured out what was going on in a particular instance, I’d warn her that neither lies nor prevarication would be tolerated on that issue again, and we’d agree upon a punishment for any future infractions. I believe forthrightness is vital to a successful relationship.”
“That’s a nice hypothetical, Damien. You can have a scene with someone without having a relationship. You did with Susan last night.”
“Agreed. But I see them as two different things. As a Domme, if you understand the complexities, you can make a scene richer, deeper, more compelling for your partner.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“But you weren’t entirely truthful with me earlier.” He held up a hand when she started to protest. “Before we have an argument, let me tell you this. As I told you last night, when you’re avoiding a question, you look down and to the left. If you have no need to protect yourself, you look me in the eye.”
She didn’t know whether it flattered or frightened her that his observation was so astute. Her mother had always known when Catrina was lying. Now she wondered if her mother had figured out the same thing Damien had. “We don’t have a relationship, so I don’t owe you anything.”
“She said while looking me straight in the eye.”
She blew out a breath. “You’re insufferable.”
“That was honest. So, would you like to answer, again, why are you here?”
“What I’d like is for you to mind your own business.”
“When you’re ready to tell me, I’ll listen.”
“Is this what you do to all your subs? Grind down their resistance so that they’ll beg you to beat them just to get you to leave them alone?”
“You’re onto something.” Very deliberately, he put down his glass of wine.
Then, before she knew what was happening, he had her over his lap, her bottom upturned and exposed. The pillow went flying. She kicked and struggled and protested. He trapped her legs between his then delivered a sharp slap to her right buttock.
She froze.
“Have you ever had a spanking, Milady?”
“I thought you didn’t beat a woman until the second date.”
“You’re the exception to almost all of my rules.”
As much as she was able, she twisted to look at him. “I’m not sure what you think I’ve done to deserve this one. I thought you talked about punishments in terms of a negotiation.”
“This, Milady, is not a punishment.”
“Then what the hell do you call it?”
“Pleasure.”
“You have a warped version of the word’s meaning. That freaking hurt, and it sure as hell wasn’t fun.” She hadn’t used a safe word, and she knew he had noticed, too.
“Oh?” He rubbed the affected area.
He caressed her buttocks with long, sweeping, repetitive strokes. Beneath his palms, her skin heated.
He ran his fingers up the insides of her thighs and tension eased from her body. Shocking her, she felt her pussy moisten. She remembered last night at the Den, when he’d given her a smack. Her physical turn-on had been instant. If she had thought about it in advance, she would have expected to be angry that he’d touched her. Instead, the intensity had added to her pleasure.
“Still think it’s not fun?”
“This is okay,” she said.
“When you’re ready for your spanking, let me know.”
“You can massage all you want,” she said.
“I hadn’t figured you for a brat, Milady.”
Was that how she was behaving? Trying to goad him into taking the decision away from her? The thought disturbed her.
“What do you want?”
“I’d like to get it over with,” she said, her voice softer than usual.
“You want to be equal, Catrina. Tell me what to do.”
She was lost in a spiral of confusion. She was aroused, wanting more, and it seemed a betrayal of her ideals to ask for it. Reminding herself she’d only agreed to one night and that she’d already learnt something, she sai
d, “Spank me, Damien. Please.” She tightened her buttocks in fear and anticipation, though she knew that oftentimes made pain worse.
He didn’t tell her to relax. Instead, he helped her to do so with a light, gentle touch. On top of his earlier massage, this felt wonderful, making it impossible to hold onto any tension.
He started just above her knees and worked toward her buttocks. She became pliant. When he increased the force, she liked it. Earlier, he’d given her a smack that hurt, but this couldn’t be more different. Though she found out what her subs liked and tried to deliver, being on the receiving end showed her, in a way that wasn’t abstract, what it felt like. No wonder some of her executive playmates liked getting spanked. She felt her stress melt in the same way she did while meditating or working out.
“More?”
“Please.”
When he continued she added, “Spank me harder, Damien.”
He did, but gradually.
He took the time to finger her after giving her a dozen or so smacks. She used her toes as leverage to rise up, silently seeking more.
Damien didn’t change what he was doing. She understood that he was delivering what she wanted, but at his pace, on his terms. Confounding Dom. But she had to admit, his way gave her a richer experience.
He varied the location, speed and impact of his hits.
“Surrender, Catrina.”
She closed her eyes. The remaining parts of her hesitation were swept away as he continued the erotic dance on her flesh.
He teased her cunt and covered her legs and buttocks with blazing blows.
The more she went with it, the deeper she seemed to be swimming until an orgasm began to unfurl. She cried out his name, but the word emerged in a jumbled mess. She tried to move, but her legs felt lethargic.
“Do you want to come, Catrina?”
His voice seemed to come from quite a distance.
“Milady?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes. Please.”
He drew moisture from her pussy and used it to insert a finger in her ass.
She whimpered.
He placed two more fingers in her heated core and moved in and out of both holes quickly, making it impossible for her to think. “Damien,” she said.
“I’ve got you.”
She expected him to ease up, but he didn’t. Instead, he moved faster, purposefully. He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled it, arching her head back. He kept her legs trapped. She was helpless, his prisoner.
In the Den Page 5