Cuff Master

by Frances Stockton

Ethan didn’t doubt for a minute that her calm demeanor was about to change. When she saw their bedroom suite, she’d get confused. She was expecting a dungeon. It was there. She simply wouldn’t see it until he revealed it.

  Morgan waited at the door until Ethan opened it for her. It was a gesture he’d remember later. She must have realized that access was to be granted by him. Once the invitation had been given, she was free to come and go as she pleased.

  “Ladies first,” Ethan urged, sweeping his arm out in a grandiose gesture.

  “Thank you,” she said, curtsying before entering the room.

  Ethan slapped the switch on the wall to turn on the overhead chandelier. It’d been part of the master chamber since his parents bought the house. They’d kept it. Phalen did, so he did.

  What she saw first was a cozy bedchamber with a king-sized four-poster bed, red oak furniture, a cozy nook with a giant bow window, a daybed and matching oak side tables and a working gas fireplace that could be turned on and off with a switch.

  In addition to the two beds and furniture, there were soft brown rugs to complement the wooden floor, curtains on the bow window and a full bathroom with a shower and bathtub.

  The secret door beside the fireplace hidden by a crooked bookcase led to much more. When the house was remodeled into one- and two-bedroom apartments, the master bedchamber had been one of the two-bedroom units with its own entrance from the alley.

  Ethan’s mother and father took out the narrow stairs and remodeled the second slightly smaller bedchamber into a nursery. Phalen turned it into his dungeon when he came home from Afghanistan. After he moved to Salem, Ethan took ownership of the master bedroom and dungeon.

  Everything inside was new because he’d wanted only the right gear for Morgan. It’d taken him seven months to get the dungeon ready for her.

  He put the roller bags aside and watched Morgan walk around the room. She placed her shoulder bag on the bed made up with a black and gray comforter and matching pillows and kept walking.

  The only thing he took out of his roller bag was his portable gun safe. He carried it to a wall safe he’d installed after Phalen moved out and stowed the gun and his badge.

  “This is beautiful,” Morgan pronounced, though she stumbled a little. “I admit it, Ethan. I was expecting a lot of black and badass dungeon stuff.”

  “Dungeon stuff?” he sneered. “Watch your language, sub. I don’t have stuff. This bedroom is many things. A place to sleep, a place to relax and a place to carry out every wicked fantasy you’ve ever entertained.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound insincere. The room’s lovely, truly lovely.”

  Ethan watched her scan the room. She kept looking, studying, searching for the dungeon she’d expected.

  “Listen to me, sweetie. Everything you were expecting to see is here. You’ll not be disappointed. But there are going to be plenty of times when our fantasies give way to the need for good old-fashioned lovemaking or just to sleep. For that, I prefer the room to look like this.”

  “I understand.”

  “I hope you do.”

  She nodded. “Don’t worry. I’m not turned off. I’m touched that you care enough to not turn everything sexual between us into dominance and submission or bondage.”

  “While I admit to a certain affinity to seeing you cuffed and helpless on the bed, which I haven’t done yet, never be afraid to say you’d prefer to crawl into bed and pleasure each other without toys, devices or staging a scene.”

  Morgan set her bag down, faced him and walked up to him. “You’re sweet. You’ve made me feel at home.”

  “You are home, Morgan.” Ethan drew her into him, tightening his arms until she was snug against his body.

  They still wore their coats. The bags needed to be unpacked and there was much to come.

  For the time being, Ethan was going to ignore everything except the taste of her sweet lips. Lowering his head, he licked her mouth as they closed in for a kiss. They lingered, enjoying the moment together.

  As hard as his cock had become simply from holding her, Ethan didn’t press or change gears. He kept kissing her with the gentleness she deserved. Placing his hands on either side of her face, he held her steady as their tongues played.

  Morgan was the one who changed momentum. She withdrew enough to bite his lower lip, sucking it into her mouth.

  “I love you, Ethan Maddox,” she said after releasing his lip.

  He leaned back. “Love you too. But you do that again, expect to answer for it.”

  She grinned and turned her head, causing his hand to slide to her mouth. Biting down, she left indents from her teeth and softened the sting by sucking his index finger.

  Keeping her guessing, he shook his head, jerked his hand away and set her back several steps. “For that, you are to wait right here until I call you to come eat dinner. When you do, wear nothing.”

  “Really, nothing at all? What about the tour?”

  “I dislike repeating myself.” Ethan moved away. “While I’m downstairs, put the clothes away. Don’t worry about clothes that need to be hung in the closet. I’ll do that later. Shirts, jeans, panties, underwear and everything else can be put into the dressers.”

  Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not your slave, Ethan!”

  “Never said you were, doesn’t mean you get out of your task. You’re to do it. No questions, no hesitation, no fear.”

  “I’m not afraid of it. I don’t understand. I thought we’d, you know, play, fuck…something.”

  “All of the above we will do, love. Do as you’re told. If you wish to keep your discipline light, that’s all I ask.” Ethan shrugged out of his coat, then assisted Morgan with hers. “I’ll make you a meal fit for a queen.”

  She didn’t move. She was wavering between pissed off and curious. Already her eyes had widened and her mind was racing with possibilities of what would happen if she objected.

  Ethan went to the door. “One thing, Morgan, do not do anything more than what I’ve told you. Don’t go searching for what you’ll never find until I reveal it.”

  Morgan didn’t respond. He glanced back and saw that her expression hadn’t changed.

  Ethan left her alone in the room. She could do what she was told or tell him to fuck off. As with everything in their D/s lifestyle, the decision on how the night would go was up to her.

  He went downstairs to find Taran pigging out on a sandwich. “Thought for sure you’d be out of here by now,” Ethan said.

  “Had to get dressed and grab my suitcase,” Taran explained. “Really am sorry I interrupted you and Morgan.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  Taran took a big bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly, finally swallowing the food. “Okay, I’m not. Morgan’s a beautiful woman. Couldn’t help but stare. It was the way she looked at you with love that caught my eye, bro. She’s got it bad for you.”

  “Goes both ways, Taran, just keep your eyes to yourself. She’s going to be your sister-in-law soon.”

  Little brother’s brow shot up. “Another wedding? When’s the big day? I should be best man for this one. Phalen’s all settled down and domesticated now.”

  “Haven’t asked officially,” Ethan admitted. “I’m planning something special for her over Samhain.”

  “Is it going to be similar to what big bro did?”

  “Doubtful, I don’t do anything the way he does.”

  Taran laughed heartily. “Yeah, you’re nothing like him. You look in a mirror lately? Except for the fact that you have short hair, you two could be twins.”

  “Physically we look alike, doesn’t mean we do things the same way. We clear?”

  “If you say so,” Taran said, finishing the last of his sandwich. “I’ve got to get moving. Samson and Delilah are bound to be missing their favorite uncle.”

  “Morgan bought them a boatload of toys today. They’re very happy. And I’m the favorite.”

  “You always were with Mo
m and Dad…and Phalen,” Taran commented, sadder this time.

  “What the hell, bro? Don’t say that,” Ethan implored. Taran closed that door by walking off on the pretense of grabbing his coat from the foyer closet.

  Taran had been the troublemaker growing up. He’d also been the peacemaker whenever Ethan and Phalen got into it. And sometimes their fights were downright brutal.

  Ethan and Phalen were a lot alike. Their similarities were one of the reasons they argued. Still, they were close enough in age that Ethan was able to tag along on double dates, have crushes on Phalen’s girlfriends, which pissed big brother off more times than not, or go on road trips.

  On the other hand, Taran and Phalen rarely if ever disagreed. If anything, Taran had worshipped the ground Phalen walked on. He’d always wanted to be included and being the youngest, sometimes that simply wasn’t possible.

  Phalen learned tattooing first. He’d been the first of them to get laid, to get drunk, to get into fights, to get Ethan and Taran out of fights with neighborhood bullies and to get his ass set straight by their mom when he stepped out of line. Their father might have been the heavy, but none of them had wanted to disappoint Abigael.

  Ethan had been the next in line to learn the family business. Taran had always felt a step behind. He hadn’t been able to learn tattooing from their dad because their parents died before Taran had the chance. But there was never any doubt that Taran had been loved equally by their parents.

  Taran returned to the kitchen to grab his keys off the rack on the wall. The key rack had been there since they were kids. It was old, worn and had been repaired with duct tape, nails and wood glue. It was ugly.

  Yet it was as much a part of the house as everything else their parents had added. It would never be replaced.

  “Taran,” Ethan said before Taran could walk out of the kitchen. His coat was on. He was anxious to leave.

  “Yeah, bro?” Taran stopped at the doorway, turning back.

  “I love you,” Ethan told him, no matter if it’d get him some ribbing for sounding sappy.

  “I know that. Thanks.”

  “In that case, say it back.”

  “I love you too, bro. No need to freak out. I’m just feeling sorry for myself. You have Morgan now. Phalen has Cassie. Hell, your partner isn’t even mine yet and I refuse to go looking for a woman simply to get laid. That’s all I could offer if I’m not with Samantha.”

  Ethan went up to Taran, looked him square in the eye and grabbed him up close before his brother could object. “Be patient with Sam. There’s a lot you don’t know about her yet. She’s been hurt so many times that trust doesn’t come easy for her.”

  “Hurt? How? Dammit, if some fucker put his hands on her, I’ll kill him.”

  “I can’t answer that, Taran. I can tell you that there’s no partner I’d rather have than Sam Riley. She’s headstrong, loyal to a fault and will never give up seeking justice for those who’ve been wronged.”

  “Now I’m never giving up on finding out the truth, Ethan. I’ll do the honorable thing and let Samantha tell me. If it means I have to wait, so be it. If it turns out someone beat her or…fuck, it makes me sick to think it, if she was violated or abused in any way, I will send the sonofabitch to Hell.”

  Ethan nodded. That was the Taran he knew, cocky, sure of himself and one hundred percent honest with his intentions.

  “Can you let me go now?” Taran asked. “I’d like to get to Salem before your woman comes downstairs. I heard her grumbling up there. Not sure it bodes well for you.”

  “It’ll be all right,” Ethan said. “Text me when you get to Phalen’s house so I know you got there safe.”

  “Sure thing, Dad,” Taran promised, stepping back.

  “I’ll follow you out. I need to grab some things from my car.” Ethan took his keys from his pants pocket and headed out the kitchen door to the alley.

  It didn’t take long to wave Taran off and head over to the parking lot to grab the remaining bags from the trunk. He returned to the house, entered through the kitchen and dumped everything in the hallway.

  Time ticked away. Morgan remained in their bedroom. Ethan set about making supper. He opted for a big salad with balsamic vinaigrette dressing and made a couple of peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

  While he and Morgan had been at Phalen’s, he’d noticed she enjoyed eating bananas when she wanted a snack. She’d said she liked peanut butter so he guessed she’d like the sandwiches that his mom taught him to make when he was a kid.

  Setting the dinette table for two, he made sure to fill two glasses of iced tea before calling up to Morgan. He checked the clock. He’d left her alone for more than an hour.

  Going over to the intercom system that had been installed throughout the house a long time ago, Ethan punched a button for the master bedroom.

  “Time for dinner, Morgan, come on down,” he invited.

  She didn’t respond through the speaker. Ethan waited, listening until he heard her footsteps in the hallway upstairs. The only question he had at the moment was whether she’d taken him up on the challenge he’d issued upstairs.

  Her steps came closer, down the stairs, almost to the kitchen. She tended to go barefoot when she was comfortable around the house. She was definitely wearing shoes, her steps clicked as she walked.

  Turning his head to watch as she entered, he didn’t fight his victorious smile. Oh she took him up on his challenge, big time. And he was rock-fucking-hard in an instant.

  Not that he’d let her know it. Making sure his fly was suitably fastened and his polo shirt hid his erection, he enjoyed the view.

  Morgan wore a cute black baby-doll nighty made of some kind of slinky material that barely covered her ultra-fine ass. Her auburn hair was bound into one big plait and fell over her right shoulder. She wore fuck-me black pumps that made her six feet tall.

  Her face glowed with vitality and beauty. She’d put on makeup, freshened up and presented to him a picture of seduction. She was beautiful. In the future, he’d reward her.

  But she’d deliberately chosen to go against his command, something he couldn’t ignore. “I do believe you’re wearing too many clothes, sub.”

  “I chose otherwise,” she answered, stepping into the kitchen as bold as you please and striking a pose that could rock a freakin’ runway.

  “I can see that. You understand there’s a consequence for disobedience?”

  Morgan stopped halfway across the kitchen, steadying herself by grabbing a heavy wooden kitchen chair. As sexy as she was, walking in those shoes had to be killing her feet and ankles.

  “Yes, I thought you would prefer me in something pretty and sexy. Don’t you like this?” she asked, flicking her head back so that her braid flipped off her shoulder and fell down her back.

  Ethan grinned, deciding to play a game of cat and mouse with her. “I love it. You look amazing.”

  “You’re not happy,” she commented, lifting her chin. “I’ll make it up to you, Master.” Without any provocation, she picked up her foot and placed it on the chair, giving him a peep show of a newly trimmed pussy.

  A little stunned by that revelation, Ethan set aside the salad tongs he’d been using and gave her his undivided attention.

  “Do that again,” he told her, wanting to make sure he saw what he thought he saw.

  Unafraid, Morgan once again presented her pussy by lifting the end of her nighty and revealing that she had trimmed her pubic hairs to a narrow strip that covered her mons.

  He couldn’t wait to get his fingers and tongue on her pussy now. Now that she’d started, she could count on going completely bare whenever he wanted.

  “You, my little sub, have been very, very naughty,” Ethan said, strolling up to her and catching her about the waist to keep her right as she was. “Who told you to trim your pubic hair?”

  “No one, I wanted to surprise you,” she said, her voice dipping to a sultry note Ethan had never heard.

  “Di
d you think this little peep show and baby-doll get-up was going to get you out of the discipline you’ve been begging for all day? I told you to come down naked. You are not naked.”

  “I’m naked underneath this nighty,” she challenged.

  Ethan shook his head. “Tsk, tsk, seductress, that answer simply solidified your fate for the rest of the evening.”

  “But…I’m hungry. I’d hoped we could eat and maybe go on that tour you promised.”

  “When I’m ready, I will show you the house. And I’ll feed you soon.”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  “You’re welcome, sub. One thing before we eat, did you do what I asked with the suitcases?”

  “Everything’s put away in proper order. I even placed the hanging clothes in the closet.”

  “You didn’t need to do that.” Ethan knew she had reservations about small spaces.

  “The closet is huge and I kept the door open when I was in there. Ethan, I feel at home in your room. Not once did it feel as though anyone was watching me when I was in the closet and I wasn’t bothered when I touched things that belong to you.”

  Ethan wrapped his arms around her tighter, coaxing her leg off the chair so that she stood tall. The pumps on her feet gave her added height. “What did you touch, honey?”

  “Your clothes, your shaving supplies in the bathroom and a few of the sex toys you’d stored in the bedside tables. You have glass dildos in there. I’ve never tried them before.”

  “For your honesty, you will be rewarded. But I do believe I told you not to do anything other than follow the instructions I’d given when I left.”

  “Aren’t you pleased? When I’m with you, even if it’s the same house, I’m free of the burdensome headaches or confusing images that come at me.”

  “Yes, I am pleased to know that. Now tell me why you really searched our bedroom.”

  “Ours?”

  “It’s ours now, didn’t you know that?”

  Morgan smiled, her face lighting up with pleasure and making Ethan’s heart race.

  “You’ve no idea how happy that makes me. Please, can we stay here more often than in Salem? I do like it there, it’s where I work. But here is where I belong, with you.”