Maison Domine: A Binding Ties story

by Skylar Kade

  Taking bonding and exothermic reactions outside the laboratory…

  A Binding Ties story.

  Organic chemist Lara Brunner is at loose ends. Since childhood, her life has been focused on work and achieving success in her field. Only now, weeks away from her tenure review, she realizes she’s pushed herself too far. Casting about for a way to release her stress-crazed body from career tension, she visits a BDSM retreat, hoping a weekend of sexual submission will do the trick.

  Inducting her into the lifestyle is her at-work nemesis—Jaxon Greene. But the sinful intent she encounters in Jaxon’s sexy eyes makes her heart race with desire…and fear. Gorgeous men like him don’t go for zaftig academics like her. Once the fantasy weekend is over and real life returns, he’ll forget all about her.

  Jaxon is blindsided by his intense attraction to Lara. The more time he spends with her, the stronger their invisible bonds become. Bonds that are stronger and more permanent than any knot he can tie. He’s not normally into converting vanilla women to his lifestyle, but something makes him want to cast his inhibitions aside and claim her for his own.

  First, though, he has to free her from preconceived notions of proper sex…and love.

  Warning: This story contains bondage and whips and sexy professors—oh my!

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

  Macon GA 31201

  Maison Domine

  Copyright © 2009 by Skylar Kade

  ISBN: 978-1-60504-760-7

  Edited by Laurie Rauch

  Cover by Scott Carpenter

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: September 2009

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  Maison Domine

  Skylar Kade

  Dedication

  To Jackie and Kelley, for spending hours editing and giving advice about this story. And to Laurie, for giving my novella a chance and polishing it until it shined.

  Chapter One

  The door finally slammed shut, and Dr. Lara Brunner dropped her head to the desk. She looked around the empty classroom, and wondered whether she should grade more lab reports before her lunch date with her best friend, Samantha Bradley. If Sam were there, she’d laugh at her grading predicament, and answer no.

  Sometimes, late at night, when she was alone in bed after a long day, Lara wished she could let go like Sam did, because she would be able to give in, guilt-free, to those other secret desires plaguing her. The ones where she was tied up and bound spread eagle on a lusciously soft mattress. And she wasn’t alone, for once.

  A dark-haired man loomed over her, his face obscured by shadow. His right hand always grasped a riding crop, his left wrapped around his swollen and red erection. The sight of it had her mouth watering, dying to flick her tongue across the angry head and taste the drop of glistening precome perpetually hanging there.

  Her arousal was at a pinnacle, as usual when she was with her fantasy man. Quick lashes of the crop landed on her thighs, belly, nipples, always avoiding the one place she wanted contact.

  “Please, Sir, please!” Lara heard lust-ridden begging, but didn’t realize it was her, at first. She would never be so undignified as to beg.

  The crop fell again, hitting the very top of her mound, barely teasing her clit with the air currents brushing over it. “Silence. I did not give you permission to speak.”

  His voice always touched a primal part of her, kicking her desire into overdrive and making her pant and moan for him to touch her, kiss her, flog her, fuck her—anything!

  He waited, staring at her. She couldn’t actually see his eyes, but she could feel the weight of his gaze, and it made her squirm. Finally, finally, he reached out a hand and trailed a line from her lips, across her left nipple to her right, sending shudders down her body. Those wicked fingers journeyed lower, circling her belly button, swiping over the winged-heart tattoo on her hipbone, evidence of the one impulsive moment in her life. He teased her mercilessly, edging closer to the desperately empty, aching part of her, driving her arousal higher.

  She knew one touch across her clit would have her exploding, whether he gave her permission to come or not. He was skilled enough to know she only had tenuous control, and could read her body language like the simplest text. He always could. It was a far cry from any other lover she had ever been with, who couldn’t have found her clitoris, much less her G-spot, even with the most sophisticated GPS.

  “Let go, baby. Come for me, fall apart. God, I want to see you lose control.” He simultaneously plunged one long, thick finger into her dripping pussy and flicked his calloused thumb across her clit. As he commanded, she fell apart, quivering and shaking, momentarily losing her sense of self along with her hard-won self-control.

  Her gaze flickered up, knowing once again her fantasy lover’s face would be in shadow. But, to her surprise, he stepped from the shadows to finally reveal his identity.

  He didn’t have a classically beautiful face. It was too rugged, too hard to be considered handsome by any Hollywood standard. His nose was slightly crooked, obviously broken once or twice. His jaw belonged to a villain, not a hero, yet she found him undeniably sexy. His eyes, too, couldn’t belong to a hero, filled with sin and promising damnation for the deviant acts he wanted to perform and the unbearable pleasure such acts would bring.

  Jaxon Greene’s stunning jade gaze bore through her, sweat dampening the edges of his shoulder-length black hair. Oh fuck, no. Anyone but Professor Greene! She should not have been more aroused by his appearance in her fantasy, but she was, much to her chagrin.

  Her fantasy man opened his mouth, and she paused, eager for his next command. “Dr. Brunner, its 11:05. Why are you still occupying my classroom?”

  Lara jolted from her reverie. She wasn’t bound and being sensuously tortured by Jaxon Greene. She was, unfortunately, still in the classroom she had to share with him once a week. Her panties were damp and her face aflame, only adding to her embarrassment. She ran a shaking hand through her blonde hair, trying to compose herself.

  “Dr. Greene, I’m sorry. I know you have a class here. I must have…” She didn’t finish the sentence. His look clearly said he wanted none of her excuses.

  “Yes, yes, I’m sure you were otherwise occupied.” He summarily turned his back to her, shutting her out with a supreme self-assuredness never found in the men she dated.

  Because the man was a bestselling author and script writer, he thought everyone at the university should fawn over him—or so she assumed from his haughty demeanor every time they met.

  “Oh…ok.” Lara blushed, thinking of how she’d been occupied moments earlier. A shake of her head didn’t bring the intended clarity, but it did draw her attention to the campus where she’d slaved for five years to get a tenure review. In two weeks, she’d be a permanent faculty member at Waterman University. It was everything she’d ever wanted. If only she could get Jaxon Greene out of her head—and her fantasies.

  Samantha was already seated at a table when Lara finally rushed into the res
taurant. Sam’s long honey brown hair was swept back into a copper clip matching the color of her eyes. Dressed in her ubiquitous long cotton skirt and tank top, Samantha managed to channel her inner flower child with ethereal beauty. Feeling frumpy with her hair in a scrunchy and lines from her lab goggles marking her forehead, Lara plopped down into the chair across from Sam, dropping her purse, tote bag, and stack of three chemistry textbooks onto the empty chair next to her. Thankfully, Sam had already ordered Lara’s usual lunch. At least that was one less thing to worry about.

  “Sam, God, I am so sorry. There was a new pile of paperwork on my desk to complete ASAP and my head lab assistant couldn’t find the sodium sulfate, which had been misfiled by one of the undergraduate lab workers, and to top it off, I had to deal with that awful Professor Greene this morning, who looked at me like he swallowed something vile.”

  Sam wasn’t angry. Calm, centered Samantha never angered. Instead, her friend looked concerned.

  “Lara, darling, you are the sister of my soul. Which is why I’m telling you this. You are killing yourself.”

  Lara tittered uneasily, wondering why Sam didn’t look like she was joking.

  “Seriously, chickie. The Goddess is concerned about you. Your aura is clouded, and I cannot see your divine essence shining through your eyes anymore!” Usually, Samantha would start picking dirty pieces out of her aura, but instead she looked serious. It made Lara uncomfortable.

  “What the hell am I supposed to do, Sam? Tenure has been my only goal for, well, forever.”

  “But why pursue a goal that holds no joy? I can tell you don’t love the university job like you did five years ago.”

  “But…” You know Sam’s right.

  “No buts. What about the job offer from that pharmaceuticals company?” Sam asked. “You’d still be doing what you love.”

  Everything in Lara rebelled against the idea, except that nagging rabble-rouser voice in the back of her head cheering it on. “Taylor Pharmaceuticals? Oh, I couldn’t take that job. I’ve always wanted to be a professor. I won’t—can’t—turn my back on it. But I agree I need a break. I just don’t know how to take one.”

  Her friend paused, and Lara braced herself for another lecture. Instead, Sam shocked the hell out of her. “Make like a kinky Ophelia and get thee to a BDSM club. You can go to Maison Domine. It’s the little mountainside cabin where I always take my vacations.” Lara froze, reminded of her secret submissive fantasies. It was so like Sam to treat her sexuality with nonchalance while Lara was wracked with nerves over it.

  It was one of the things Lara envied about Sam sometimes. Here Lara was, feeling guilty and perverted at wanting to be tied up, and Sam went out and embraced it. Sam was having fabulous sex too, while Lara was too tired to even pull out her vibrator at night.

  Lara dropped her spoon into her chicken soup, her stomach too knotted to eat. She had always wanted to ask Sam about the BDSM stuff she was into, but Lara was hesitant to dip her toe into that murky pool of debauchery. Sure, Lara knew all about the amazing sex, but she was completely ignorant about anything beyond the surface details.

  Sam must have seen the curiosity painted across her face. “Lara, it’s fabulous. Freeing, you know? You turn over control to a man, and in return he gives you incredible pleasure. But then again,” she said slyly, “I guess it’s not something you’ve ever thought about.”

  Lara spluttered, almost choking on her sip of water. Sam knew her all too well, it seemed, and the blush on Lara’s face only confirmed her friend’s suspicions. “Yep, as I thought.” Sam smirked. “Lara, if you could get past whatever crazy notion is stopping you from exploring your sexuality, you would enjoy this submission thing. You’re too controlled.”

  Her friend smiled. “The best part about submission is having someone you trust enough to hand over your control. It’s freeing. There is nothing for you to worry about. Your pleasure, your pain, is his to fulfill.”

  Lara’s thoughts drifted to her morning daydream. No! She shut the door on those thoughts. “But…I don’t like pain. And I’m a Type A, remember?” She pointed to herself. “Control freak.” It was beyond obvious, even to her, that she was scrambling for reasons to say no.

  “Erotic pain, Lara. The bite of a crop on sensitized flesh,” Sam leaned in closer, “the pinch of teeth on your neck, the hard fucking that rides the sweet line between too hard and not enough.”

  Evidently, her subconscious didn’t want that door to stay closed. Memories from her dreams tangled with reality. Lara knew she was still sitting in the café, but she’d swear on a bible she could feel hands roving her body as Professor Greene’s had in her earlier reverie. Except this time, he was following Sam’s description—crop in hand, tracing damp circles across her neck with his mouth, biting into her flesh every time she moaned.

  She opened her mouth to beg for more, only to remember she was sitting in a café with Sam, not being erotically tortured by Ja—some nameless dominant.

  “I…no.”

  Sam rolled her eyes and leaned in. “I know you’re turned on, Lara. I can see it on your face. And I’d give good money your panties are wet, too.”

  Lara blushed. “Geez, Sam, why don’t you just tell the whole restaurant?” While she had long ago stopped being shocked by Sam’s blunt nature, she still didn’t like being the target of it.

  “And I bet you want to hear more.”

  “I—yes. I can’t lie to you. But I really need to get back to the university. Faculty meeting. No doubt I’ll be subjected to seeing Professor Greene again. Twice in one day, ugh.” With wet panties no less—both times. She hoped the real man was not as in tune with her arousal as her fantasy version. But with her luck, he’d spot her need for orgasm a mile away.

  It seemed she was always running into him—sharing tables at faculty dinners, needing to use the library during the same hours, working the same nights overtime, and simultaneously stopping by the campus coffee shop in the wee hours of the night. If he weren’t always so short with her, she would think he had purposely coordinated his schedule with hers.

  She grabbed for the check when the waitress brought it, and swiftly paid for their meal. Lara was eager to get away from Sam and the reminder she presented of Lara’s sexual curiosity. Reaching for her bags, she snagged the handles and lifted them to her shoulder.

  Whoa, bending over made her dizzy. Lara pressed a hand to her eyes, trying to make the world stop spinning.

  Sam’s voice reverberated through her brain, sounding as if it came through a tunnel. “Lara, are you okay? God, you’re white as a sheet!”

  Lara tried to tell her friend she was okay and even managed to say “I’ll be fi—” before the world went black around her.

  Chapter Two

  Voices finally roused Lara. She popped open her eyes, meeting Samantha’s deeply concerned, coppery ones.

  “Lara, when was the last time you ate?” Her friend grabbed one of her hands, obviously concerned.

  “Silly woman, we’re at lunch. I had soup, remember?” Lara tried to lift her head, only to groan at the pounding behind her eyes.

  With an exasperated sigh, Sam huffed out, “No, before that. And how much sleep have you been getting?”

  “I don’t…I’m not sure. I can’t remember. I caught a few hours sleep in my office last night. I was waiting for a solution to finish mixing in the primary lab. It was an experiment too advanced for my lab assistants to do.”

  “Lara, I can feel your energy aura flickering in and out. I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said the Goddess and I were concerned for your health. You need to let go a little.” Lara got a chill—not only from the implications of her statement, but from those last words. Jaxon, the non-asshole one from her morning fantasy, had said the same thing.

  “Sam, don’t overreact. It was just a dizzy spell. I really have to get going.”

  “Oh no, you’re not going anywhere until we resolve this.”

  “But the meeting starts—”
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  “No arguments. I know you won’t take me seriously unless I make you. I’ll give you a choice—either you go away to that cabin this weekend, relax, and reexamine your life choices, or I call the Department Chair and tell him about this little incident. I know they can’t risk this happening while you’re in the laboratory.”

  Lara wanted to glare at her, but the tears trapped in Samantha’s eyes made her hold back the snarky comment on her tongue. “Fine. I’ll go to the cabin.”

  She would not think about the little thrill zinging through her body at the prospect.

  After driving for three hours, Lara’s ass was almost numb. She would have turned around by now, egged on by the what ifs of leaving her laboratory in the hands of her assistant, but she had been ordered by Sam that she had to stay the weekend and give this whole thing a shot, or her supervisor would hear about her fainting episode.

  Sam had given her basic instructions and information about the club, Maison Domine. On the surface, it looked like a private spa retreat. All members understood that personal information or identities never left the club, and their adherence to this policy made it a safe space for guests to explore their sexual desires. The owner, Katrina Lamont, was a brilliant woman and dear friend, according to Samantha. Kat and Sam had arranged for one of male guests, an experienced Dominant, to introduce her to the lifestyle. Both women vouched for this J, as he was known in the scene, and assured her that nothing would happen she didn’t want or consent to.

  She had spent most of the drive listening to music to distract her nerves, and the rest of it yanking her neckline up, and her skirt hem down.

  Dressed in a short black skirt, knee-high black boots with spiked heels, and a plunging red sweater, Lara was far from comfortable in the clothes. Sam had taken her shopping to get her more sex-kitten attire. It was a far cry from her boring professor clothes, but the naughty part of her reveled in the feel of the silk sweater caressing her skin and the cool breeze on the back of her thighs, barely teasing her damp-with-anticipation lacy thong. And yet, she had battled so long to be seen for her brains, it still jarred to wear such revealing clothing. Not to mention she’d been taught as a child to blend in, not stand out, especially since she was not the child her parents had wanted.