Her body was stretched and arched, and she was aware of him everywhere, holding her still. Whatever he wanted to give or take, he could.
That she’d given him this much power made her shiver. She could take it back with a single word, and despite the temptation, remained silent.
Her stomach clenched at his persistent invasion. The feelings were almost too much, and she could barely breathe.
“That’s it,” he coached her. “Come for me, Milady.” He pulled out his fingers, tugged her head back farther then re-entered her in a single, forceful push.
She screamed.
His ruthless domination shoved her over the edge into a stunning climax.
The orgasm made her go rigid. Time and space collided.
Moments later, she shuddered.
“Damn, you’re responsive, Milady,” he murmured, extracting his hand, turning her over and holding her against his chest.
Her first response was to push him away. She felt vulnerable and wanted to be alone. But when she started to move, he tightened his grip. He placed her head against his shoulder and stroked her hair, uttering soothing words that she couldn’t quite make out.
He held her until her breathing evened out.
She’d never been held after lovemaking. Not that this scene had counted as lovemaking, she reminded herself. Then again, she’d never experienced anything quite like it. She’d gone from college sex, to an abbreviated engagement, to a ho-hum sexual encounter, to being a dominant. She gave comfort. She didn’t receive it.
Damien kept his arms looped around her even when she straightened and put some distance between them.
“That was…” She tried to find words, but was lost when she looked at him.
Damien’s eyebrows were drawn together over his electric blue eyes, and he said nothing. No one had ever regarded her as intensely.
He cocked his head to the side, indicating he’d wait as long as she needed.
“It was different than I thought it would be.”
“In what way?”
Trying to steady herself, she drew a few breaths. “This sounds ridiculous.”
“I doubt it.”
“Humbled.”
He nodded.
“But also empowered.”
“Perfect,” he said. “The dichotomy. The yin and yang of submission.”
Though she’d had no real idea what to expect when he’d turned her over his knee, she hadn’t been prepared for her emotions to be as overwhelmed as her body.
On some level it concerned her that he hadn’t needed to cajole her compliance, rather, she’d offered it. “My ass really does sting,” she said.
“Of course it does. It would hardly be a spanking if it didn’t hurt.”
That resolve-melting smile played around his mouth again.
Her heart warned her to run. He caught her chin. So much for thinking he’d allow her to hide.
“That was a hedonistic beating, meant to arouse both of us.”
“I’m the only one who got off.”
“Doesn’t matter. I get fulfilment from turning you on. That’s what it’s about for me.”
She looked at him.
“As a Dom, your Dom…when you come, I am pleased. Giving is more important than receiving.”
Although her ideas of domination were similar to Damien’s, the execution of their scenes were different. Before one of her boys arrived, she would chat with him on the phone. She would find out what he wanted, and they would discuss their mutual expectations. After a scene, she would soothe her sub, dry any of his tears, tell him how proud she was of him, allow him as much time as he needed to dress in street-legal clothes, but she didn’t sit in patient silence for this long while he made sense of the physical experience. Maybe Damien was right. Maybe she did need to experience this for herself.
“How are you doing?”
She was shattered. No matter how much time he gave her, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to comprehend the emotional implications of them being together. “I need to go,” she said, pressing away from him.
Surprising her, he helped her up. “Let’s get your clothes.”
She made small talk while they went into the kitchen. “Remain there,” he said. “Don’t get dressed.”
He excused himself and went into the bathroom, and she heard water running.
This was awkward, standing in the middle of the kitchen, half-naked. She supposed it shouldn’t bother her as he’d eaten her while she was spread on his countertop. He had a way of demolishing her inhibitions.
A moment later, he returned with a damp cloth. “Spread your legs, Milady.”
She knew better than to argue.
He crouched to bathe her pussy and ass. She appreciated the attention, but was becoming more and more desperate to make her escape. “Thank you,” she said, when he nodded his satisfaction.
Aware of his gaze and wondering if her buttocks were bright red, she first pulled on her thong, then her jeans before tugging on her socks and stuffing her feet into her boots. She knew he noticed how much her hands trembled.
When she started to pull off his T-shirt, he said, “Keep it.”
Back in the foyer, she gathered her discarded clothing, wadded it all up then shoved it into her purse. With a half-smile that felt as fragile as her control, she dug out her keys.
“I’ll take those.”
“Uh…”
“Milady, I’m not going to try to keep you here. I wish you would stay. And you’re welcome to. But if you’re intent on leaving, then I’ll warm up your car while you finish getting dressed.”
Put that way, how could she refuse, even if it prolonged the goodbye? She dropped the keys into his palm.
He pulled on a fleece jacket over his bare chest. Damn. No matter what he wore, he was a good-looking man. After turning up the collar, he headed outside.
Catrina shivered when she closed the door behind him. And it had nothing to do with the sudden gust of cold air that had swirled around her.
She heard the car engine start, and she shrugged into her coat before she could change her mind about leaving.
When he returned, a few snowflakes clung to his midnight-colored hair.
“I’ll walk you out,” he said.
Survival instinct warned her to run…now.
“Send me a text when you arrive home,” he said.
“I’ll be fine. The drive is short and the roads aren’t all that—”
“Don’t push your luck, Catrina.” His words were tight with tension. He captured her chin and tipped back her head. “I didn’t ask for a call. Just common courtesy. I’d prefer to tie you to the foot of my bed and keep you there until morning. So I think a text is a hell of a compromise.”
She sucked in a breath. The image that kaleidoscoped through her mind terrified her. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Of course not. That’s far too uncivilized.”
She exhaled.
“I’m not an ogre. I’d handcuff you to the headboard.”
He gave her one of those wicked smiles that made it impossible to know whether or not he was joking.
“I need to go.”
He walked her to the car. As she slid into the driver’s seat, he leaned in and said, “You’ll think about this interaction a lot. You’ll relive it. And after you have, you’ll be curious.”
His voice wrapped around her, heating her.
“You’ll wonder what else there is and what you’re missing,” he continued. “You liked the spanking. Maybe you didn’t want to like it, or it offends your sensibilities that you enjoyed it. And we can talk about that. But the fact remains, you want more. You want me to fuck you as much as I want to be inside your hot pussy.” He paused, but he didn’t give her time to object. “You know my number. Call it anytime.” Damien stepped back, started to close the door, but then hesitated. He captured a fistful of her hair, looped it around his hand to draw her head toward him, then finished with, “I meant it when I
told you to text when you get home. If you don’t, Catrina…”
She wanted to protest but couldn’t find the words.
“I will give you a spanking you won’t like and will always remember. Am I clear?”
She nodded.
“I didn’t hear you,” he said softly.
“Yes, Damien.” She needed to escape while she still could, before she begged him to let her stay. Hell. He was right. As he spoke, a hundred different ideas tumbled through her brain, and it was as if she could already feel his cuffs around her wrists. “I understand,” she said.
He pulled her head back a little more. Then he placed a light, gentle, full-of-promise kiss on her mouth before he released his grip.
“Drive safe, Milady.”
Without another word, he closed the car door.
She pulled away, hands shaking, grateful she could drive without conscious thought. She looked in the rearview mirror. He remained where he was until she lost sight of him.
Chapter Four
Catrina clutched the steering wheel as she drove. The tension in her grip made her shoulders ache. Damien Lowell disturbed her in a way no other man ever had.
She’d been in love with her fiancé, or at least she thought she had been. In retrospect, she’d been thrilled with his attentions, enough that she’d ignored little things. The fact he was between jobs, and had been more than once. He’d always seemed to have some emergency. His car had broken down. Or he needed a new suit for a job interview. She’d paid his bills while telling herself that partners supported one another.
It shouldn’t have shocked her when he’d taken off with all her money.
She’d learnt her lessons well, and she’d never allowed Todd to get past her exterior walls. He’d been a nice enough guy. She probably could have trusted him but had chosen not to.
And now…Damien.
He made her question everything she knew—or thought she knew—about relationships, and worse, about herself. Being a Domme gave her a huge sexual kick. And her partners enjoyed it as much as she did. But for her, it was more about staying in control.
What she’d just experienced with Damien had demolished that.
She’d enjoyed letting him take the lead. She’d liked the hot orgasm. And the spanking had aroused her. Afterwards, as she’d snuggled into his arms, it had been as if the outside world no longer existed. Her fears and worries had vanished.
When she’d been younger, more idealistic, she’d thought that it was possible for a man and woman to become partners and support each other. She’d been a romantic, even though she’d seen her mother’s constant struggle for survival.
Tonight, he’d been supportive, wanting to know her inner thoughts and feelings. She’d glimpsed what it might be like to have someone to turn to. Part of her wanted to accept what he was offering.
She shook her head to clear it. Life had taught her to put away foolish, romantic notions. It might take all her resolve and determination, but she would do exactly that.
When she arrived at her cold, dark condominium, she sent a one-word text.
Safe.
She didn’t want to get into a discussion or explain anything else.
Hearing his voice would undo her.
He’d told her she would want more, that she’d wonder what she was missing. And she was terrified to the tips of her toes that he might be right.
It was better to keep distance between them. Lots of it. Lots and lots of it.
* * * *
Confounding, frustrating, annoying-as-hell woman.
Damien shoved away from his computer at the Den. Damn it. He’d looked half a dozen times but he hadn’t seen Catrina’s name on the weekend’s reservation list.
With a sigh, he strode to the window and stared at the expanse of pine trees and snow-covered ground.
It had been almost two weeks since she’d been to his house. As he’d requested, she had sent him a text that night, letting him know she’d made it home safe. Since then, he’d heard nothing from her.
He’d known the mini-scene had challenged her emotionally. Fuck. Who was he kidding? It had challenged him.
Her body language had indicated that she’d enjoyed what they’d done.
Perhaps a bit too sure of himself, he’d told her she’d want to explore further. But more, he’d hoped that they’d connected in a way she’d never imagined possible.
Their time together might have been short, but he’d held her. She’d told him about her fears and offered him a glimpse inside her carefully constructed defenses. There’d been no doubt she’d taken tentative steps toward trusting him.
She’d captivated him. He wanted the feeling to be mutual.
Because she’d let him in, he’d anticipated she might panic. He’d have been delighted, but surprised, if she had contacted him right away. He had expected her to take a couple of days to think things through, maybe as long as a week.
But this…? He was beginning to wonder if he’d misjudged the situation, and her.
“Boss?”
Damien looked over his shoulder. Gregorio stood in the doorway, scowling.
“I knocked twice,” Gregorio said.
Turning, Damien waved the other man in. “Is the reservations system working correctly?”
“As far as I’m aware,” Gregorio replied. “Are you having problems?”
Damien shook his head.
“Aha.”
“Aha, what?” Damien asked. He spread his legs and folded his arms across his chest, matching Gregorio’s stance.
“Things become clear.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You drove up two weekends in a row. You’re hoping to see someone specific.”
“Don’t you have work to do?”
“No. Really. Everything’s set. I can listen to your woes for at least an hour.”
“Out.”
“You’ve got it bad.”
“Are you hoping to get fired?”
“This is serious,” Gregorio said. “If you’re talking about sacking me and taking care of all of this yourself, you’re not thinking straight. We need the good stuff.”
“I might beat your ass.”
“Would that help?”
Damien took a seat behind his desk. The two had been friends for years, and the question was sincere. Gregorio knew Damien’s moods as well as Damien did. And if Damien needed the release, no doubt Gregorio would expose his back.
Without an invitation or permission, Gregorio crossed to a sideboard and opened a door. He slid aside a supposed-to-be secret panel and removed a crystal decanter of brandy. Of course, in typical fashion, the man had gone straight for Damien’s private stash.
Gregorio removed the stopper then slowly poured a small amount into two separate snifters. He returned to slide one across the scarred desktop toward Damien.
“We’ve been through a lot,” Gregorio said, taking a seat. “Relationship breakups…”
Including Gregorio’s shocking divorce.
“Several new business ventures and one spectacular failure.”
He didn’t need reminding of that. Making the cover of a respected Wall Street newspaper because of a bankruptcy still gave him nightmares. No matter how many successes he’d had since, his portfolio had been tarnished.
“But I haven’t seen you like this before.”
“Like what?”
“Smitten,” he clarified.
“Men don’t get smitten.”
“Fair enough. Obsessed. Mistress Catrina?”
“How—?”
“My brilliant deductive reasoning skills.” Gregorio crossed his long legs. He grinned. “Susan was here last week with a new guy. You were cordial to them both. To my knowledge, you haven’t played with anyone other than Mistress Catrina recently.”
“No one should know about that.”
“It’s a small community, Boss. Someone saw you in the hallway with her. And the tension between the two of you w
hen she left that night erased any doubt. And since she hasn’t been back, I can’t think of anyone else whose name you’d be looking for on the reservation system. Yep. There’s no one else you’d be smitten by, well, I mean if you were smitten—which you’re not—since men don’t get smitten.”
“Do you want to shut the fuck up now?”
“Oh, hell no. I’m just getting warmed up.”
Gregorio grinned, pissing Damien off even more.
Damien breathed out, forcing himself to relax.
Contemplatively, he held his glass in his palm, warming the brandy. The ritual itself helped settle him.
A minute later, he brought the snifter closer and swirled again, releasing more of the alcohol’s aroma. As always, he appreciated the sight of the liquid clinging mysteriously to the inside of the glass.
A few seconds later, he took a sip. The liquid gold tasted of smoke and fruit, and it warmed on its way down.
“Good idea?”
“Indeed.”
Gregorio took a small drink. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I don’t care what you say. This stuff can make anything better.”
“Especially when someone else pays for it,” Damien said wryly.
“Especially then,” Gregorio agreed.
Following Gregorio’s lead, Damien pushed away from the desk and relaxed against his chairback. He realized this was the first time in two weeks that he’d managed to release any tension without first spending an hour at the gym.
“So, you played with her outside of the Den.”
“Mind your own business.”
“More than once?”
“You know goddamn well I’m not going to answer that.”
“Have you called her? Or are you waiting for Mistress Catrina to fall under your spell? Wait. No. Holy shit…” Gregorio uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “Unless you subbed for her.”
Over the top of the snifter, Damien regarded his second-in-command until the other man shrugged.
“Never mind that.” Undeterred, Gregorio continued, “She subbed for you, which meant something since she’s a Domme and sometimes shows up with multiple pets. And now you want her to become a sub for you. So, let me guess. You issued an ultimatum, you want her to do things on your terms. Ergo, you can’t give in and call her.”
In the Den Page 6