For all the good it would do her, she selected a matching bra and panty set from her dresser drawer. Since he hadn’t tried to kiss her after their first date, she doubted he’d be seeing her lingerie.
She stepped into a pair of jeans and avoided looking at her backside in the mirror. It didn’t matter whether or not her skin was bruised or if the outline of Master Marcus’ hand could still be seen.
She pulled on a too-tight sweater and wondered if Harvey would even notice the low-plunging neckline. Regardless, Master Marcus wouldn’t pay attention, either. He’d have the cotton off her body and folded in a pile so fast, it would make no difference what she wore.
Pictures of Master Marcus and Harvey collided in her mind. Since there really was no comparison, she pulled back her shoulders and decided to forget she’d ever met the delicious Dom.
* * * *
She arrived at the restaurant a few minutes late. Harvey was waiting inside the door, and he made a show of checking his watch.
“Did I have the time wrong?” he asked.
“No. Sorry.” She unbuttoned her coat and flicked off the snowflakes.
He didn’t help her remove it or place it on the empty chair. He just stood there, looking at her.
“The roads were a bit slick,” she continued. “So it took a few minutes longer to get here than I thought it would.”
“Are you always late for events? Or are you just not a morning person?”
She was saved from a reply by the arrival of the hostess.
The restaurant was already crowded, and loud. Once they had been seated, a harried-looking server slowed down long enough to ask, “Coffee?”
Harvey nodded. Julia ordered chai. The woman nodded and kept moving.
“I’m just curious.” Harvey moved the condiments to the exact centre of the table. He picked up his menu and looked at her over the top. “Are you often tardy?”
She laid her coat next to her. “Do you often continue to grind on things after someone has already apologised?” she countered.
He sat back carefully, still holding the menu. “You’re being a little defensive, Julia. I was simply making conversation.”
“You’re right.” Last night had made her edgy. “Sorry,” she said again.
“Because I’m always early for events and meetings.”
“I have dozens of faults,” she told him, something snapping inside. She realised there was a difference between a Dominant and an asshole. “Maybe hundreds.”
“I’m trying to be serious here.”
“So am I,” she replied.
The waitress arrived with their drinks. “Ready to order?”
“Yes,” Harvey said.
Julia shook her head. “I haven’t looked at the menu.”
Harvey sighed. “I looked at it before you arrived.”
“On second thought, I have decided.” She unzipped her purse and fished a five-dollar bill from her wallet. She dropped the money on the table and smiled, suddenly feeling lighter. “I want a man who is sunny-side up, with a large sausage, and two hot buns.”
The waitress winked at her.
Harvey gasped. “Now just a minute,” Harvey said. He looked around, the menu still clutched in his hand. “Be reasonable, Julia. I insist you behave yourself. You’re making a scene.”
She grabbed her coat, slung her purse over her shoulder and strode towards the door.
Outside, the gust of wind that smacked her in the face didn’t slow her down. Instead, it invigorated her. As she’d learnt last night, there was something exhilarating about being honest with herself and with others.
The cold, the wind, the icy streets didn’t bother her.
She entered her apartment and took Master Marcus’ business card from the trash. She stared at the eagle emblazoned on the paper, and she recognised it as the same symbol that had been stamped into his tawse.
Her hand trembled. She knew why she hadn’t slept last night. It was because she hadn’t been willing to face the truth—she’d liked the time she’d spent with Master Marcus. She’d enjoyed the way he’d spanked her, made her question her beliefs, and the way he’d cared for her afterwards.
Julia had never been a snuggler. Frankly, she didn’t really understand why anyone would want to. Sleeping was easier alone, without someone else’s weight on you. But he had made her feel safe and protected, even though he was overbearing and obnoxious—the things she most despised in a man.
She reluctantly admitted the truth to herself. She wanted to see him again.
So what the hell was she going to do about it?
Chapter Six
Well, well.
Marcus looked at the identification window on his cellphone.
Julia Lyle.
The night of the wedding, he’d given her his contact information. Although she hadn’t reciprocated, he’d arrogantly believed he’d hear from her. He’d done everything possible to give her a memorable experience. It sure as hell had been hot for him, more intense than most scenes he’d recently participated in.
After a month of silence, he’d determinedly shoved thoughts of her from his mind.
Despite his resolve, he’d had random flashbacks to the sight of her buttocks, upturned over his lap, exposed for his punishment. They’d had a taste of playing together, and every one of her reactions had been honest. She’d been upfront in telling him she wanted nothing more than a one-night stand. Obviously she didn’t need him to complete her life.
And now, when he’d given up hope, his phone was ringing. He waited a full five seconds before answering. “Cavendish.”
“Hello…” She paused for a moment.
The word Sir hung between them, unspoken.
“It’s Julia. I met you at Ben and Lana’s wedding.”
“I would have never forgotten you,” he said. He waited for her to speak, letting her set the pace.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” she said.
Again, she left the honorary title off the end of her sentence.
“I was wondering…” She trailed off. “That is… You said it was okay to contact you.”
He heard the layer of nerves in her voice. It had clearly taken some courage for her to telephone him. “I’m glad you did.” He reached for the cocktail that was on his desk then leant back in his chair.
“I was wondering…” She blew out her breath. “Damn it. For the past few days, okay, weeks, I’ve been rehearsing what I might say. I was kind of hoping I’d reach your voicemail, honestly.”
“You’ve got me, live and in the flesh.”
“I’m not doing very well, am I?”
“You’re doing fine,” he assured her. “If you had left a message, what would you have said?”
“Do you mind if I’m blunt?”
“I prefer that to games.”
“I’d like to see you again.”
“When?”
“Whenever it’s convenient for you.”
“Whenever it’s convenient for you, Sir,” he corrected. “I do hold to many BDSM proprieties. I expect you to honour them, as well. Unless you’re looking for a vanilla friendship. In which case, I’m wondering why you called.”
He could almost imagine her worrying her lower lip before she repeated, “Whenever it’s convenient for you, Sir. And no, I’m not looking for someone to take me to the opera. I’d like to scene with you again, Sir.”
Her tone sounded different than it had at the beginning of the call. Her use of the word ‘Sir’ had changed something between them, letting her be clear about what she wanted.
She repeatedly surprised and delighted him.
“How many times have you masturbated since we were together?”
“Excuse me?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he looked out of the window of his Highlands loft. He loved the view from this vantage, skyscrapers, the amusement park, the events centre. Denver seemed to pulse energy, fed by the Platte River.
He was proud of his place
. It had taken six months to remodel the space to his specifications. He’d taken out walls to create a massive great room, opened up the staircase, even enclosed part of the outdoor space so that he had a deck and sunroom. Glass and metal defined the three thousand square foot piece of urban heaven. He’d hosted a couple of parties for clients since he’d moved in, but he’d never entertained a sub there. Until now, he hadn’t wanted to.
“I don’t know. Almost every day. Twenty or thirty times in total, I suppose, Sir,” she finally said.
A sex drive to equal his. “Do you fantasise when you play with yourself?”
“Oh, God,” she said. “This so isn’t the conversation I’d been thinking we’d have.”
“We’ve established that you didn’t call me because you needed an escort to the opera. So answer the question. Do you fantasise when you play with your pussy?”
“Yes. Yes, Sir.”
“Tell me about the most recent fantasy.”
She was quiet for so long that he checked the phone to be sure they were still connected.
“The sub we saw that day at Master Damien’s house…”
“Yes.”
“I imagined what it might be like to be her. I’ve been curious about the St Andrew’s cross. And I thought I might want to try a flogger.”
At the Den, she hadn’t known what a St Andrew’s cross was. “You’ve obviously been doing some research.”
“Voraciously. I’ve watched a couple of videos, and I’ve done some reading. I talked to Lana more after she got back from her honeymoon.” She spoke slowly as if confessing a sin. “She offered to let Ben scene with me, and I was tempted to agree. But I thought I’d ask if you were interested first. I liked what we did. I trust you. And, well, you’ve seen me naked.”
The idea of any man but him introducing her to the sexual delights of a flogging pissed him off. Reminding himself he had no right to be angry, he asked, “What appeals to you about that fantasy?”
“When we watched that scene… The woman’s expression was so intense. And when he hit her, she looked peaceful. I have been imagining what it might feel like to be hit with all those strands. And I want to see your expression as you’re doing it.”
A lot of Doms preferred to have their partner face the cross so their back and buttocks were exposed, and he was among them. But he liked the idea of flogging her breasts and watching her expressions.
“I understand if you don’t want to. I mean—”
“I’d be happy to beat you.”
She was quiet for a minute.
“How does Saturday work for you?” he asked.
“That’s… Really? Thank you. Saturday is fine.”
Since it was only Monday, that would give him time to prepare. His playroom currently had very little equipment in it, but he would certainly change that before her arrival. He had a carpenter who was currently between projects, and Marcus’ ideas would keep the man busy for the remainder of the week. “I’ll send you a text message with my address and the code for the parking garage,” he told her. “Follow the signs for guest parking. I’ll meet you there. I’ll expect you at six, promptly. Is being on time a problem for you?”
Except for the incident with Harvey, it hadn’t been. She hadn’t been late to work in at least a year. “No, Sir. It’s not.”
“Be wearing the highest heels you can manage comfortably. I want you to wear only lingerie beneath your coat. Any questions?”
“What kind of lingerie?”
“I’ll leave that to you.”
“No guidance or suggestions?”
“Surprise me. Any other questions?”
He heard her exhale.
“No.”
He swirled the drink around the inside of the crystal glass. “Where are you now?”
“At home.”
“What are you wearing?”
“Workout clothes,” she said quietly. “I just got back from the gym.”
“Put down the phone and undress.”
“Are you serious?”
“Be a good sub and do as you’re told.” He wondered how she’d respond. Part of him expected her to refuse. She’d insisted that she wanted nothing to do with domineering men, and he was a Dom to his marrow.
He knew it was one thing for her to follow orders when they were scening, another to give over control when they weren’t together. It would take trust and a certain mindset so it didn’t seem ridiculous.
“All of my clothes?”
“That’s typically what I mean by getting undressed, yes,” he said drily.
“Yes, Sir.”
He sipped the drink as he imagined her peeling off her clothes. Yeah, he had seen her naked. He knew what she looked like, with her generous rear and pouty breasts.
“I’m back, Sir.”
He liked the sound of her voice. When she was being compliant, there was a slight husk in her tone. Each word, every pause revealed her emotional state. He knew if she was aroused, apprehensive, nervous, all without seeing her. She could protest that she wasn’t submissive, but he knew different. “Do you have a vibrator?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Is it handy?”
“No, Sir. It’s in the bedroom. I’m in the living room.”
“Put down the phone. Go fetch it and return. And I want you to crawl.”
“Crawl, Sir?”
“When we’re together, Julia, you may repeat an order if you don’t understand it. But if you are stalling, you’ll earn a punishment.” He leant back even farther in his chair and crossed his feet on top of the desk. Images of her continued to assault his senses. He was looking forward to seeing her sexy body sway as he had her move towards him on all fours. “Turn the speaker on,” he instructed when she picked up the phone. “Is the vibrator electric or battery?”
“Battery.”
He said nothing. He let the silence drag.
“I mean, it’s battery operated, Sir.”
“Turn it on and let it run for a few seconds so I can hear it.” The hum was satisfactory. He would pick up a more powerful vibrator before the weekend. After she’d switched it off, he said, “Kneel, please.”
“I’m kneeling, Sir.”
“Describe the position to me.”
“My knees are wide apart. I have the vibrator in one hand, and both of my hands are behind my head.”
“And your breasts?”
“I just thrust them out, Sir.”
“Where is your gaze?”
She hesitated. “I’m looking at the floor.”
“Where were you looking before I asked?” he asked with lethal calm.
After sighing, she confessed, “At a picture on the wall.”
“I want honest answers at all times. If you want to play games, find another Dom. You knew what I was asking.”
“I apologise, Sir,” she whispered. “You’re right.”
“Good. Now. Masturbate with the vibrator until I tell you to stop.” He heard the slight hum. Then he heard little sounds of pleasure. He waited until he heard the first groan, and then he said, “Stop.”
The background fell silent.
“That’s a good girl, little submissive. Was that on the highest setting?”
“Lowest, Sir.”
“I have a rule about when a sub may orgasm. Do you remember?”
“I may only come with your permission.”
“Good. We understand one another. Now turn the vibrator to the highest setting. This time, I want you humping it like you did with my hand.”
“Anything you say, Sir.”
He hadn’t heard any sarcasm in her tone, just a desire to please. Damn, his cock was hard. “Do it now.”
This time, her moans were louder.
“Remember, you may not come without permission.”
Finally, she called out a desperate, “Sir!”
He snapped, “Off. Turn it off. Now.”
She made a sound like a growl. He loved how spirited she was. “The f
irst time we played, you said me wanting you to climax when I commanded sounded like a fantasy.”
Her breaths were short and ragged. “I didn’t know how powerful your hold over me was.”
He considered stroking his cock while they talked. Since they’d been together, he’d only drained his balls a few times, all quick sessions in the shower. Now, need was clawing at him. He shoved away the feeling. He wanted all his focus on her. Her experience was more important than his. “Silently count to thirty and then turn it back on.”
“Sir…” She sighed. “Yes, Sir.”
Oh, yes. She was delightful. She was fighting against herself, wanting to please him more. Exactly half a minute later, she turned the vibrator back on. He imagined her squeezing her buttocks. He pictured her body straining and squirming. He thought of her gritting her teeth in determination not to orgasm no matter how hard she wanted to do exactly that. “Stop.”
He heard the vibrator stop and her ragged exhalation.
“My pussy is tingling, Sir.”
“Not nearly enough, girl. Now do it again, and do it right. Really work your cunt. Quit making this easy on yourself.”
Easy?
“I want to hear you. Do it now.”
He half expected her to protest, but she didn’t. There were a couple of seconds of silence before he heard the telltale hum again.
It was only moments later that he heard her whimper. Within a minute, she swore softly. Then, delighting him immensely, she became much more verbal.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I want to come. Please, Sir. Oh, oh!”
“Stop immediately.”
She cried out. Her aggravation all but shimmered across the distance. He’d bet his company that she’d never been more aroused. “Did you come?”
“No. No. No, Sir.”
“How close are you?”
“My whole body is shaking. I… Oh, God. Please?”
“No. Breathe. Focus on how you’re pleasing me. I like you to suffer for me, Julia. I’ll ask you to do it often.”
“Damn it.”
He knew she wasn’t complaining about the suffering. To her, obviously, suffering was part of what she enjoyed. Instead, she was on the edge sexually. “I want you thinking so much about what will happen Saturday night that you’re obsessed.”
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