Brand (The Donovan Dynasty)
Page 9
“You’ve never been spanked? Maybe been blindfolded or tied up?”
Her stomach dropped to her toes. “We are so not having this conversation.”
“And again, like Saturday night, you haven’t run away, even though I’ve warned you that you probably should. You haven’t reached for your phone to call nine-one-one. You haven’t asked me to take you to your car.”
He made no move toward her. Instead, he stood still, as if he had all the time and the patience in the world.
“No. I’ve never been…spanked. Or blindfolded.” What else had he asked? She met his gaze. Though his eyes were still gray, they seemed somewhat lighter, the color more molten. “Or tied up.”
Suddenly rain beat harder on the roof.
“Until now,” he said.
Loopy dashed into the barn and she looked over to see the sheepdog shake herself off, spewing water everywhere. Then she raced toward them, tongue still happily hanging out of the side of her mouth.
“Wait,” Cade said to the animal.
At the bottom of the stairs, she whimpered.
“Stay.” His voice was quiet, but forceful.
The dog tipped her head to the right.
Cade raised his right index finger. Then he pointed toward the floor and Loopy lowered herself to the floor. Sofia might have imagined the dog sighing.
“Good girl,” he said approvingly.
Loopy thumped her tail and kept her gaze focused on him.
Returning all his attention to Sofia, he said, “It’s your choice entirely.”
A battle waged within her. She was curious, as he’d suggested. A little nervous, as well. If they proceeded with using the barn for the event, no doubt he would have to move everything. In the end, fascination trumped fear. “Yes,” she said. “I would like to see your…”
“Dungeon.”
“That sounds fierce.”
“It’s supposed to.”
Despite the heat, she felt as if the temperature had cooled a few degrees.
She put on a brave face. “Lead on, Mr. Donovan.”
He nodded then took a step forward to pull back the tarp. It required a tremendous amount of courage to walk past him.
Because of the storm and lack of windows, the area appeared small and somewhat foreboding.
He followed her and switched on an overhead light. It demystified the equipment, made it less intimidating.
“Unfortunately, it’s rarely used. It doesn’t have a lot of equipment, but it’s serviceable.”
“Maybe we can take a few pictures for the commemorative book,” she teased.
“You might want to ask the PR firm that you referred to.”
He was smiling, and that helped her pulse return to a more normal rate.
“I acquired this chair from a defunct club in Dallas. The Dungeon Master was the only one allowed to sit in it.”
“Dungeon Master? Seriously? He was actually called that?”
“Most of us in the lifestyle are very serious about our BDSM,” he assured her. “That doesn’t mean there aren’t lighthearted, enjoyable exchanges, but safety is the number one concern.”
Sofia took a step toward the chair, then stopped. “It’s imposing.”
“It’s meant to be.”
“Do you sit in it? Or is it just for show?”
“Nothing here is just for show,” he replied.
For a moment, she imagined him in it, hands curved around the ornate arms. She realized the chair wasn’t just tall at the back, the seat was a bit higher than normal, and it was significantly wider than a normal chair. Even if other people were nearby, its occupant would be slightly above everyone else. “So…”
“Go on. I promise I won’t be offended.”
“What do you do in the chair, if it’s not for show?”
“Often I contemplate a submissive. Maybe as she strips, or kneels and waits for a command, perhaps dances.”
“A woman really does that for you?”
“Yes.”
“Kneels naked and waits?”
“With grace and patience.” He nodded toward a circle on the floor. “There.”
She sucked in a breath. Though she tried to banish the image, she pictured herself doing exactly that.
“Or I can enjoy the sight of her on the table.”
“You just sit there and watch?” she asked, incredulous, wondering what it would be like.
“I find there’s something exquisitely sexy about sight of a woman’s nude body—my submissive’s nude body—as she’s strapped down waiting for my attention, my touch.”
His voice had strokes of sensuality that painted a vivid, breathtaking picture.
“Across the room, I can watch her every movement, see her ribcage rise and fall as she breathes. I can tell whether or not her nipples are hard. If her feet are in stirrups, I know if she’s wet with anticipation.”
My God.
“As I mentioned, it’s not just kinky sex. It’s more complex than that. For me, transcendence matters. Can a sub quiet her mind enough to remain still? To be fully present in the moment? I want my sub to focus on pleasing me.”
She couldn’t believe she was here, listening, and yet she couldn’t make herself move.
“If I’ve blindfolded her, can she keep her head from moving even if she hears a movement off to her left side as I approach the wall?”
Unable to stop herself, she looked. At the paddles. Some had round heads, a few were oblong. Most were crafted from wood, others from leather.
The rich timbre of his voice drew her back.
“Sometimes I may instruct her to keep her eyes open, but to focus on an overhead beam. Maybe on that crystal.”
Until now, she hadn’t noticed it. The exquisite piece of glass was shaped like a teardrop, and it hung from an overhead beam, unmoving.
“Other times, I may request she keep her eyes closed. That can be a real challenge. A sudden sound, like a smack”—he clapped and she yelped—“might tempt her to disobey.”
Desperately she wanted to know what happened if the sub didn’t do as she was told.
As if he hadn’t just startled the hell out of her, he continued, “I can see whether or not she tests the bonds. Does she need to see if they’re tight? Is she hoping she can escape them? Or praying she can’t?”
Sofia’s wrists seemed to chafe.
“Or perhaps I have positioned her in a way that’s pleasing to me and I’ve instructed her not to move. Depending on the sub, that can be all the more challenging.”
She could imagine it. Vividly. The waiting. The anticipation. Wondering if he’d touch her, when he’d touch her, and would it be a caress, or something harsher? This, her reaction, couldn’t be happening to her.
“Alternatively, my sub can be draped over my knee while I please her.” He paused. “Maybe I’d tease her clit. Maybe I’d put a finger up her ass.”
Her mouth dried. She’d never been with a man who was this frank, and she’d never had a guy even suggest trying anal sex. And he spoke of it so casually.
“Depending on my mood, I might spank her. It could be a pleasure paddling, but perhaps it’s something more serious, a transgression that needs to be rectified. My imagination is my only limitation.”
His words seemed to swim in her mind. No matter what she did, she couldn’t banish the images that had formed. Instead, a wicked part of her yearned to be the nameless submissive, doing as he commanded.
“Would you like to have a closer look at the wall?” he asked.
“It makes me think of a medieval torture chamber.” Still, she was intrigued enough to walk toward it. She’d never stepped foot in an adult-themed store, but she’d looked at so many sites online that she could guess what the things were and how they were used. “It’s a little scary,” she admitted.
“It doesn’t have to be. Domination is more about control than anything else. Would you like me to show you?”
She told herself she wasn’t going to do
this. She wasn’t. No way.
“Any Dom who’s worthy will insist you use a safe word, something that immediately stops play.”
“You have an interesting definition of the word play, Mr. Donovan.”
“Do I? It’s a lot of fun.”
“For whom?”
“Both parties,” he said. “Why else would a sub do it?”
“Because it pleased her Dom?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“That’s a hell of an answer and not altogether incorrect.” His voice was hoarse in a way that made a thrill slip down her spine. “But I’d say a lot of subs wouldn’t do it more than once, let alone often, if they didn’t get something out of it.”
“I’ll be honest, I’m a bit skeptical.” Even though Lara had told her the same thing.
“I can’t blame you.” He took a few steps and stopped near her. “Communication is the key to success. Each person needs to have clear expectations.”
“It’s the same way in business.”
“It is.”
Even though he wasn’t uncomfortably close, her senses blazed.
“Before a scene, individuals talk about what works for them. The submissive will let the Dom know if she has hard limits—things she refuses to do. There can be soft limits, as well, things she likely doesn’t want to do but is open to talking about or considering, depending on the situation. She also lets him know if she has physical issues that prevent her from doing certain things. It’s the Dom’s responsibility to ensure she’s kept safe at all times.”
“It sounds very serious.”
“You’re right. But it doesn’t have to be a long talk. It can be informal. And the more you’re with a particular person, the less you need to go over.”
A part of Sofia couldn’t believe she was standing in Cade Donovan’s barn—in his dungeon—having this discussion.
“As I said a minute ago, a sub will have a safe word. Because it’s easy to remember, many choose the word red. But if you want to go any further with me, you can use anything you wish. I prefer that my partners let me know if they need to talk about something, even during a scene. You can say yellow to get me to pause or to let me know something is too much or to take a short break. Green lets me know everything is okay.”
Cade looked at her, captured her gaze, mesmerized her. She wasn’t sure she could have looked away, even if she’d wanted to.
“Are you ready to continue?”
Her gaze was continually drawn toward a pretty pink paddle. It appeared to be sturdy and made of wood. It reminded her of something she’d used when she’d played ping pong. “I don’t see how anyone gets pleasure out of that. It looks as if it’s meant to hurt someone.”
“It certainly can. It doesn’t have to be used that way, though. If you’d like to experiment, take it down and give it to me.”
His vocal chords were taut, and his tone held no trace of humor.
She hesitated, and she was reminded that, once again, she hadn’t said no. Thunder ripped apart the atmosphere but even it didn’t drown out the sound of her heartbeat.
Realizing she may not get this chance to be with a Dominant ever again, Sofia put down her things then removed the pink paddle from its hook and offered it to him.
“Very good,” he said, thrilling her.
Rather than instructing her to bend over, or at least turn around, as she expected, he mesmerized her by tracing a callused finger down the side of her cheek, then he gently outlined her lips. “Tell me what you want to use as a safe word.”
Right now, she had a hard time remembering her own name. “The colors are fine.”
“Close your eyes,” he said.
For the first few seconds, all she could think about was the fact he towered over her and held an implement of pain.
Then he fisted his hand in her hair. “I’ve been thinking about this since Saturday night.”
He had? The knowledge that she’d affected him melted the last of her resistance. She exhaled a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.
Cade eased her head back. She could open her eyes, but keeping them closed enhanced her other senses.
He touched her lips with his and she moaned.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
Sofia knew she wasn’t, but his tone was so serious that for a moment she believed him.
He deepened the kiss and she responded, tasting the freshness of spearmint. He smelled of the elements—rain and wind—and she felt consumed.
He ran two fingers down the column of her throat then paused at the hollow. She’d never felt this gloriously alive.
By slow measures, he pulled back from her then eased his grip on her hair.
“Continue to keep your eyes closed. I’m going to turn you around.”
It took some trust, but she gave it.
His grip was light on her shoulders as he turned her. Then he slid his forearm across her chest.
“Stick out your rear a little more for me.”
Nerves almost failed her.
“You can say no,” he said. From his tone, she knew he wouldn’t judge her if she did. “Or yellow. Or red.”
“Scared.”
He laughed in a gentle way that she found oddly reassuring. She appreciated that he wasn’t trying to frighten her.
“That’s not one of the acceptable answers, Sofia.”
She reached up to curl her hands around his arm before doing as he’d instructed. “Fine. Do it. Get it over with.”
“Tell me green,” he said.
After a moment, she said, “Green.” Then she waited.
He spanked her across both buttocks with the sturdy paddle.
She barely felt it. “That’s it?” she asked, strangely disappointed. She opened her eyes, and everything in the room looked as it had before. Part of her had expected that the world would appear differently.
“Control,” he reminded her. “I wanted you to know that nothing has to be horrifically painful.”
“But it was…nothing.” She turned her head back to look at him.
“Did I give you permission to open your eyes?”
She gasped. “No.”
“Close them.”
Immediately, she did.
“Another one?” he asked. “A bit harder?”
She nodded.
“Tell me.”
“Yes.”
He brought the paddle across the middle of her ass, harder this time. As soon as he pulled back his hand, the pain abated and he kissed the side of her neck.
“One more? Harder?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He delivered the third with more force, making her rise on to her tiptoes. She yelped, but he distracted her by brushing a hand across her breast.
Shocking her, Sofia’s body felt more relaxed than it had, as if tension had seeped from her.
“A good Dom asks, reads, senses what his sub wants,” he said.
He’d snared her interest, making her wonder what else there was to it.
“Now open your eyes.”
He turned her to face him.
The steel in his eyes had been tempered. “And?” he prompted.
“That last one…and the way you…” She looked away, but he took hold of her chin.
“One very important thing about anything BDSM is the honesty. If you’re going to play with anyone, you have to be transparent. There can be no hiding, especially from yourself.”
She wasn’t accustomed to this. In fact, the opposite was true for her. More than once, she’d lied and said she’d had an orgasm so she could spare a man’s feelings.
“Tell me what you’re thinking and feeling.”
“The last one stung a little,” she admitted. “The pain went away quickly, especially once you brushed your hand across my chest.”
“Are you sexually aroused?”
Lord save me. “I’m getting there,” she admitted.
“How sensitive are your nipples?”
“Can you come from having them touched?”
“I honestly have no idea,” she confessed. “I’m totally embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. That’s not my intent. I just want to know about you.”
“I’m sure you’re accustomed to…” She took a breath then began again. “I’m sure you’re accustomed to playing with women who are far more experienced than I am.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you a virgin?”
“No. But there’s no way anyone would consider me worldly.”
“If you want to proceed, we can go as slow as you want.”
The world felt a little bit as if it had tipped.
“I’d start by getting you naked,” he said, as if sensing her unasked question. “Ask you to stand still while I looked at you. I’d touch you, learn what you like.”
“What about sex?”
“It can be part of a scene for some people. For us, now? No. I wouldn’t want you concerned about that. I’ve already told you I want to fuck you. I would prefer it be part of a BDSM scene but that’s not a requirement. I’d happily give you vanilla sex if you wanted it.”
She wasn’t certain what to say.
“There’s no pressure, certainly no hurry. If you don’t want to sleep with me, I won’t hold that against you.”
The problem was, she did want to. It would be smart to go back to the house, go through her presentation then get back on the road. But she knew she’d always wonder. She hadn’t gotten to be a success in business by being afraid of risk. “I didn’t think I liked pain at all until that third swat.” The paddle still hung from one of his fingers. He was standing in that commanding stance of his. No matter how reassuring his tone, there was an underlying steel that she now knew was part of his dominant nature. “I’m curious,” she finally admitted. “Curious but cautious.”
“You have a right to be. Trust is built over time.”
She scowled. “So you’re saying I shouldn’t trust you?”
“I’m saying you should ask for whatever you need to feel safe. Avoiding restraints? Keeping your underwear on initially?”
After leaving work yesterday evening, she’d stopped by the Galleria and bought some new bras and panties from a fancy boutique. She’d rationalized that she needed some since she hadn’t purchased any in at least a year. But the truth was there. She’d been thinking of Cade when she’d slid her credit card across the counter.