Winning Cait

by Zoe Mullins

  She leaned her head against his thigh, breathing hard, as she fought for breath. He stroked the top of her head.

  “I…” He started, and she looked up at him, willing him not to say he loved her. Not yet. She wasn’t ready for that. “I don’t have words. That was incredible.”

  She smiled brightly, relieved that he hadn’t gone there. “I love the way you use my mouth. It’s stupid, but I love that I can drive you over the edge like that.” She always had.

  She sat back on her heels as he adjusted his clothing, zipping his pants and tucking in his shirt. Then he bent and lifted her to her feet.

  He moved quickly, lifting her onto the scarred wood top of the dining room table. He spread her legs, cupping her sex. She loved knowing that through the tiny thong he could feel how smooth she’d made her pussy for him.

  “Tell me,” he asked. “Are you still trained to my hand?”

  She leaned back on her elbows, her eyes flared as she watched him. She raised an eyebrow as if to challenge him. “Try me,” she purred.

  He began tapping two fingers against her clit. The little barbell vibrated beneath her thong with each stroke. She groaned, letting her head fall back. He slapped a little harder and her hips pressed forward. “That’s wasn’t an answer.” He smacked his hand down hard, once, twice, three times, until she was panting on the edge of pleasure. Then he stilled, just his index finger tapping a steady staccato. “Are you trained to my hand?” he demanded again.

  “Yes.” She breathed. “Sir.”

  He slipped his hand beneath the strip of lace, stroking her clit urgently with his thumb as he slid first one, then two fingers into her tight entrance. She pressed against his hand, urging him deeper, harder.

  “You’re going to come for me, Cait.” It wasn’t a question. He could feel her juices flow around his fingers and her muscles bearing down, both sucking him deeper and pushing him out. He saw her bite her lip.

  “If I didn’t want to hear you come, I would have gagged you,” he admonished, removed his fingers, and brought them to his lips.

  She watched him lick the glistening juices from his fingers. She wanted to have them backinside her. “Please.”

  “And what are you going to do, Cait?”

  “Let you hear me when I come.”

  “Good girl.” He pressed his fingersbackinside her, adding a third, stretching her wide. His thumb rubbed light tiny circles against her clit as he rammed her hard with his fingers, twisting them inside until she cried out. “Open your eyes, Caitie. Look at me when you come,” he ordered.

  The orgasm washed over her. Her legs shaking and clutching his hips. He was breathing nearly as hard, she noticed once she could think again, and her spasms started to ease.

  “What is it, Jack?” She lay on her back, one arm thrown over her head, the other resting across her stomach. “You are smiling.”

  “I really didn’t mean for that to happen tonight.”

  “I really hoped it would.”

  “Pervert.” He laughed. “I serve Sunday brunch to my parents on that table.”

  She giggled at the thought of a basket of croissants sitting where her bum currently was. She watched him walk over to the sink to wash his hands. He grabbed some paper towels and came back, wiping her thighs and between her legs. It was embarrassing to have him tend to her like this. She tried to close her legs.

  “Don’t,” he ordered. “I’m supposed to take care of you. I love that I made you come that hard. This cream is for me, and the pleasure I gave you. It’s my privilege to take care of you after that.”

  He was very thorough, and she could tell that he didn’t want to stop. He was fighting with himself, she mused, because he wanted to put his mouth on her dark-pink pearl and suck it between his teeth until she came again. Or shove his cock, which was already hard again, into her. She was good with whatever configuration he wanted. He made her feel wanton.

  “Get dressed.” He sighed, gently pulling her legs back together and helping her sit up. “There is something you need to see.”

  * * * * *

  Jack poured a glass of whiskey while Cait looked around the basement. He had built the house to fit him perfectly. The basement living area was bright and open, with large windows, high ceilings and light colors. The bathroom area took up a large amount of space with its largetwo-person plunge tub and glass-enclosed party shower that could easily accommodate four. He had done most of the work himself with some help from Ben. It was a small town and he really didn’t need his contractors to talk.

  The rec room featured another stone fireplace, with a forty-two-inch flat screen mounted above it. The room had a dark-tiled floor, but the radiant floor heat kept it from being cold. It was sparsely furnished but included a couple of comfortable club chairs and ottomans, good multi-purpose furniture, and of course the bar by which he stood.

  He watched as Cait walked around the lower level. A set of sliding doors hid his favorite part, his dungeon. She looked at him for permission to open the doors. He nodded with a smile. She looked so eager, and then somewhat startled.

  “Not what I expected,” she told him as he followed her into the dungeon. “You are very kinky Mr. Steele.”

  The room was dark and would have made a great home theater, or so said the original plans. He had put it to better use. The cork floor was heated and provided better cushioning than tile. The walls were dark but the various lighting zones kept it as shadowed or as bright as one wanted it.

  And of course there were the tools of the trade. He knew she would recognize most of the pieces from having gone to clubs. He didn’t get to the clubs very often, so if he wanted to play, he wanted to have high-quality pieces at home. A leather upholstered spanking bench, an oak-and-iron St. Andrew’s Cross and table-cage, some Liberator pieces, and of course, a freestanding swing.

  “Logan wouldn’t keep most of this at home, that’s why he likedthe clubs.”

  “I like my privacy,” he said quietly, still gauging her reaction.

  He was attuned to her body language and saw her shoulders stiffen suddenly. She turned to him and asked, “Do you have a submissive right now?”

  He could tell she was startled that she’d only just thought of the possibility. “I told you that I wasn’t in a relationship.”

  “The two things are not mutually exclusive, and you know it.”

  “No. I’m not playing with anyone, and I have no one under my protection.” He ran a hand down her cheek, his smile warm and indulgent.

  “But you still play?”

  “What do they say about leopards not changing their spots? I still go to the clubs when I am traveling. And there is a small kink group here who get together now and then. As you noticed, most of my friends are in the lifestyle.”

  She was smart enough to know that there were always more female submissives around than available male Doms. “Hey.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. “I don’t play with just anyone, and I haven’t brought anyone here in more than a year.”

  He watched her process that, and saw the tension drain away. He could have told her he hadn’t played with anyone since he had heard of Logan’s death, but even to him that sounded presumptuous.

  “So you wanted me to see your playroom?”

  “You’re having a hard time remembering how to address me.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir.” She tried to sound serious.

  “For one thing.” He kissed her. Feeling her fall into the kiss as he teased her mouth open beneath his. He wanted to drag her into the dungeon to play now, but it wasn’t the time.

  “We need to talk,” he said against her lips.

  “Haven’t we been talking?” She pouted.

  He stepped away. “Not enough.”

  He led her back out to the rec room and sat her down in one of the large club chairs. He poured her another glass of wine before sitting on the ottoman in front of her.

  “I need you to talk to me.” He moved both his ha
nds onto her knees. “I don’t want to lose you again, but that means we have to be honest with each other. You ran from me once, and I couldn’t stand it if you were to run from me again.”

  “I don’t want to run from you.”

  “But?”

  “But I won’t live the way I lived with Logan.” She cupped the wineglass in her palms, and looked down. “I won’t let someone else make all the decisions for me.”

  “So consider this as a negotiation.” It was something he hadn’t been very good at fifteen years ago. “Why did you run from me?” He knew he was pushing but he needed to know the truth.

  “It was too much.” She met his eyes. “I fell for you hard and fast, and you introduced me to things I only had an inkling that I may want. Then Aunt Eileen died and you started taking everything over. You had such plans and I got scared that I couldn’t live up to the dream you had of us.”

  “You could have talked to me.”

  “No I couldn’t.” She shook her head. “I was too young, too naïve, and much too head-over-heels in love with you. I didn’t know how to talk to you.” She said so now, and the hurt she saw reflected in his eyes struck her numb. She felt his hands slide off her legs as he stood up and walked away from her. “I was overwhelmed.”

  He needed to move. In his head, he knew he was to blame for her leaving, but it still hurt to hear her say it. He had just wanted so badly to take care of her, to make everything right for her. “You couldn’t know you were running away with the one person who’d use your fear against you.”

  “You’re right. As much as I know he loved me, he couldn’t help himself. The same thing that madeLogan a brilliant artist made him a difficult lover.”

  “I don’t know that I can help myself,” he said sadly, as he crossed the room to the television.

  “You wouldn’t. Not like that.” She put down her wineglass. “Logan was insecure on his own. He pushed andhe pushed, and if he thought he found a splinter, he would dig at it, until he got the reaction he wanted.”

  “When you looked in my dungeon, what scared you most?”

  “The cage,” she said without hesitation. “I hate enclosed spaces. It’s a hard limit.”

  He could read in her eyes her fear and he swallowed his anger. “Consider it gone.”

  She nodded.

  “What else?” He watched as she chewed on her lip. “Don’t overthink it, Cait, just tell me.”

  “The swing.”

  He knew she saw him tense, and he swallowed hard.

  She put a hand over his. “It’s not why you think.”

  “I was there.”

  “I know.” She pulled his right hand up, between them, and looked at his school ring. “I knew that night. You always wear this, always, you never take it off.”

  “Logan wore his too,” he reminded her.

  She smiled, and he watched her eyes fill with tenderness. “Yeah, but yours has always had this rough spot right here.” She turned over his hand and looked at the underside of the ring. “It would scratch me accidentally, and it did that night.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he apologized.

  “Logan told me after it was you. He was heartbroken, I think.” She shrugged. “He knew it would be the last time for the three of us.” They were both quiet for a moment, and then she continued. “Then of course the DVD provided visual confirmation.”

  “DVD?” He raised a brow.

  “Please.” She shook her head. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. His copy said one of two. You do have number two, right?”

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “He sent it to me. He said he wanted me to have a reminder of who was in control and what I’d lost.”

  She snorted. “That was Logan all over.”

  “I told him to go to hell, at first. I didn’t want to be the one to do that to you.”

  “Then why did you do it?”

  “Because I would have done anything to be inside you again, even play by his rules.”

  He started to pull away from her, but she held firm to his hand. “Don’t, Jack.” She wouldn’t let him go. “If it hadn’t been you, I think it would have been someone else. He wanted to punish us both.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that was the scenario he painted to convince me to leave with him.”

  “He told you I would do that to you?” He felt his stomach lurch in disbelief.

  “You were already sharing me,” she reminded him.

  “Yes, but just with Logan.” He knew that sounded stupid. Why shouldn’t she believe he’d share her with others, if Logan told had said so.

  “Because Logan was Logan, and he was your best friend, and it’s what you did,” she finished. “But the scenario Logan fed me had you sharing me whether I liked it or not.”

  “The swing goes,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “I don’t like the swing, but not because of that. I just don’t like the sensation of weightlessness. It freaks me out. Even when I was a kid. I never liked to play on the swings. Slide? Yes. Teeter-totter? Yes.” She shook her head and giggled. “Hell, I don’t even like rocking chairs.”

  He laughed at that too and kissed her knuckles.

  “He wasn’t lying though, was he?” she asked.

  “I would have shared you with him.” He cupped his hands on either side of her neck, holding her head and looking at her. “That’s what I had been leading us to. He was my best friend and he wanted you as much as I did and I would have given you to him.” He was silent, as he felt a wave of sorrow and regret rush over him. “I would have had the three of us together.”

  She placed her hands over his. “And now?”

  Jackson was quiet. A lot had changed in fifteen years. He didn’t do the club scene often and it wasn’t just because it was inconvenient. The clubs didn’t hold their appeal for him as they had when he was young and experimenting.

  He knew what he wanted and he had friends in the area who shared his interests and with whom he could play. He would love for them to see Cait submit to him. Her submission was a beautiful thing to him. “I will want to show off my best girl.”

  Her grin said she didn’t mind that at all.

  “But I would never force you to be with someone. I would never ask you unless I thought it excited you too. And maybe not even then.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I lost you for more than a decade. Now that I have you back—if I have you back—I’m not sure how willing I would be to share you. I feel kind of caveman about you. My thoughts are—Cait mine. Must have. Need now.”

  “Caveman?” Cait giggled. “I may like the caveman.”

  “You may regret saying that.” He smiled at her. “Look, the sun is setting, let’s take a walk on the beach.”

  He read the disappointment in her eyes. She wanted to play, but they wouldn’t do that tonight.

  “But I thought we would…” She didn’t finish.

  “Hey.” He saw the doubt flicker through her eyes. “I want nothing more than to take you and fuck you senseless, but a sunset like this doesn’t happen every day.”

  “It’s just—” She pursed her lips and shook her head.

  “That you’re still horny?” He chuckled. “Oh baby, you have no idea! Go grab your shoes. Or I may forget that taking it slow was my idea.”

  The sky was pink and gold. They carried their shoes in their hands as they picked their way through the wet sand. Now and then laughing at something the other said. He would soon remind her of the pleasure of making out on the beach.

  Chapter Ten

  Cait admitted that it was good to be busy. In fact, she barely had a chance to stop. This morning’s class had been pretty full thanks to a conference at a nearby hotel that had booked a yoga wellness break. In addition, she had a number of people dropping in to see the boutique. “It pays to have a quality window display,” she said and patted herself on the back.

  All this busy meant she had little time to worry about
Jackson and wonder where this was going. Last night at his house had been a little scary, seeing his dungeon, knowing how much that was still a part of his life and he wanted that with her.

  Jackson had always been the more hands-on Dom. Bondage and impact play were his stock and trade. Logan gave a good spanking, but he hadn’t honed it like a craft.

  She hadn’t lied to Jack. She was afraid of losingpart of who she was again. But then he had taken her for a walk on the beach, and they had made out under the stars, and she thought that losing a bit of herself in him wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

  She had just run to the back to grab a bottled water when the bell above the door rang again. “Shit,” she said, as water dribbled onto her sweater. She patted it quickly and stepped out into the boutique.

  The woman at the front counter turned to look at her as she closed the stockroom door. Of course Cait recognized her.

  “Caitlin.” The woman with the salt-and-pepper hair gave her a cool smile. She didn’t look nearly seventy, as she pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and leveled her flinty gray gaze at Cait.

  “Mrs. Steele.” Cait forced a smile to her lips, and came to greet her at the counter. Jackson’s mother had never been a fan of hers. She’d never been hostile, just distant.

  “I could scarcely believe it when I heard you had moved back to town.”

  “I could scarcely believe it when I made the decision to return,” Cait countered, wondering where snarky Cait had come from.

  “Why did you?” Rebecca began looking around the boutique and studio.

  “You cut to the chase, don’t you?” Cait didn’t intimidate easily. Not anymore. “After Logan died, I wanted to come home.”

  “This was not your home.”

  “You’re right.” Cait shook her head. The town had barely let her forget that when she was growing up. “But it’s the closest I ever knew.”

  “I was sorry to hear about Logan.” Rebecca’s expression softened for a moment.