The Real Mason

by Julia Devlin

  “I see.” He gestured at the foyer. “Are you going to come in or should I carry you over the threshold like some virgin sacrifice?”

  Head held high, she said haughtily, “I can walk, thank you.”

  She judged the space between the door and him. If she wanted to slink in without touching him she’d have to turn sideways. She nibbled the inside of her cheek.

  No. She would not be intimidated. Shoulders squaring, she marched forward like a soldier on the front line.

  Warm skin brushed her forearm when she couldn’t avoid his hard abs. She sucked in a breath.

  Oh, he smelled good, that unique mixture of soap, spice and Mason. She’d missed him so much and the desire to melt into him edged out her fear of the unknown.

  He chuckled, the sound both sinful and menacing. “We still have to deal with your late arrival now don’t we?”

  The pendulum swung right back. Terror once again took the lead.

  Mason smiled, sitting on his oversized tan couch, amused when the girl who used to snuggle up to him like a newborn kitten took the seat as far away him as possible. He contemplated making a joke that she sit on the floor in the foyer so she didn’t get too close but decided against it.

  She was far too on edge to appreciate the dark humor.

  He drank in the sight of her, hungry for her cute face and giving body. For two weeks, he’d wondered if she’d show and now he had his answer.

  The parts of the list designed to scare her had been a risk but now that he’d confessed the truth, he hadn’t wanted her to harbor delusions about what she’d agreed to this evening. While she was a bit prickly, that she’d come indicated at least a smidgen of desire. Of curiosity.

  God knew he was curious about what the night would bring.

  Anna was too wrapped up in her own nerves and fear to realize Mason watched her fuss at his front door. He’d laughed as she stood on his stoop and let the time run past. Oh, he was sure she had an explanation—clearly she’d planned on punctuality—but he’d learned long ago, in this game there were very few accidents.

  All prim, she clutched her handbag on her lap, sitting with her feet tucked under the chair like a proper church lady. She wore a pretty pink-and-white dress that conveniently covered her from neck to toe.

  She’d lose that modesty soon enough.

  Posture perfect, she stared at him. The expectation clear in the tilt of her lips as she waited for him to speak. Soothe her. Remind her of the man she’d known.

  As much as he wanted to scoop her into his arms and comfort her, he couldn’t do that. Tonight would be different. It would either end their relationship or start them on a new path. Comfort would come later.

  He laced his fingers over his stomach and stretched, kicking one foot over his ankle.

  A delicate arch of her blonde eyebrow.

  He said nothing.

  A shift in the chair.

  He smiled, pleasantly. Waited.

  Blue eyes narrowed, she threw up her hands. “Well, aren’t you going to get on with it?”

  “With what?” he asked in a slow, precise tone.

  A hard, exasperated breath sent a wayward blonde curl flying. “You know, with this whole domination thing!”

  He laughed. Jesus, he’d missed her like wildfire. Of course, he’d already started his “domination thing” she just didn’t have enough experience to realize it. He shrugged. “You need a chance to unwind.”

  She dug her nails into her white canvas purse. “There’s no way I can unwind with you staring at me like a bug under a microscope and with an implied threat hanging over my head.”

  “I see, you’d like to get your punishment over, is that it?” The question delivered so mildly he could have been inquiring about today’s weather.

  “No!” Face turning six shades of red, she gave him a fierce glare. “For the record, I was on time.”

  “What time did you ring the bell?”

  “I was standing on your porch before seven o’clock.” She looked down, scowled at her purse then dropped it on the end table next to her. Hands free, she placed them in her lap. Shifted. Put them on the chair arms.

  A frown. Another squirm. She crossed her arms.

  That dominant part of him long repressed couldn’t help but enjoy her agitation. “When did you ring my bell, Anna?”

  “A couple minutes after but I was here.” She surprised him with a full-blown pout. He wanted to bite that puffed-out bottom lip. But that too would have to wait.

  “If you were on time you would have stood in my foyer at seven.”

  She huffed, looking adorable.

  “You think I’m being unfair?” His cock lengthened. Hardened. It had been so long since he’d played this game, he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. How much effort it took to hide this from her.

  “Very,” she said, voice full of righteous indignation.

  It was always more fun when a girl played right into his hands. That Anna did now was an unexpected pleasure.

  When he’d allowed himself to think about her showing up, he’d pictured her as frightened as a little rabbit he’d need to coax out of hiding. To see her playing the bratty, disgruntled sub as though born to the role both pleased and surprised him.

  And he loved surprises.

  There’d been hints of this fire but they’d been glimpses behind a curtain. He liked it. Wanted more. “Tell me about your reading.”

  Her hands fell to her lap and she twisted the silver ring from her mother. “Look, Mason, I’m about to snap. Won’t you please put me out of my misery and get on with it?”

  He studied her for a long moment. Did he force her to discuss what she’d learned or concede to her wishes? Most subs learned to be careful what they’d wished for after one of his concessions. He considered. He’d planned to go easy on her. Talk to her about what she’d learned, about her feelings, discuss his expectations. Ease her into things and let her adjust.

  But he saw now that wasn’t going to be possible. Maybe they knew each other too well and the only way to break from the past was a trial by fire.

  “For god’s sake, Mason,” she snapped. “Stop staring at me.”

  Oh, wasn’t she asking for it.

  He chuckled. Trial by fire, indeed.

  Calmly, he nodded. Standing, he strolled over to her. Jaw set, gaze hard, he let her see every ounce of dominance he’d hidden from her.

  Eyes wide as saucers, she shrank back, sucking in a lungful of air.

  He smirked. “All right then, let’s go to the playroom.”

  “The what?” Her voice, little more than a croak.

  He leaned down close to her ear. “The dungeon.”

  Chapter Four

  Anna couldn’t help feeling a tiny bit disappointed.

  It wasn’t as if she’d wanted to be taken to an actual dungeon for punishment or anything but she’d expected something a little more…ominous. Like a medieval torture chamber. While Mason’s “dungeon” had the distinct decadence of times gone by, there was nothing scary about it.

  In fact, it was quite beautiful.

  The dark walls and thick, plush carpet managed to look warm and cozy instead of gloomy. An armoire of heavy wood and six planked doors, so massive it had to be custom-built, took one wall. Tucked in a corner, an ornate daybed with a wrought-iron frame and rich burgundy fabric was the perfect place to take a decadent nap. A couple of interesting chairs and benches scattered about but none looked particularly menacing. Nothing like the strange contraptions she’d dared to glimpse on the internet before hurriedly clicking the image away.

  The real beauty came from the iron scrollwork dominating walls of deep gray. Arranged in complicated patterns of different shapes and sizes, some featured candles, others were so large they went from floor to ceiling. Each one unique and beautiful. Awed, she said, “Wow, I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  Mason placed his big hands on her shoulders and started to rub with a slow, methodical kn
ead. “An artist friend of mine created them. He’s a sculptor. Maybe I’ll introduce you someday.”

  “His work is gorgeous.” After weeks of missing Mason, she relaxed into his heated palms, more than happy to feel those magic hands working her tight muscles.

  His thumb circled a tender spot. The knot loosened and dissolved under his touch.

  She moaned, her chin dropping forward to give him better access as he swept her hair over her shoulder, exposing her neck.

  Her eyelids drifted closed and she breathed easy for the first time in weeks.

  Mason’s hands were a work of art. He pressed and prodded, finding spots she hadn’t known were sore until she was a boneless pile of mush. Her only complaint was she wished she were lying down on that fabulous daybed.

  Was this how he planned to punish her? Slowly pleasure her to death? Lazily relaxed, her mind wandered to the books she’d read. She couldn’t imagine him forcing those violent, screaming climaxes expounded upon in the reading she’d done. With his slow, methodical brand of lovemaking, she had no problems imagining him like one of the gentle Doms she’d learned about.

  Under his attention, the stress, confusion and fear melted away. Mason would protect her. Love her. He’d never be cruel and ruthless. She wasn’t sure exactly how he meant to control her but she was suddenly certain, like this room there would be nothing scary about it.

  “Do you want this?” Voice soft as velvet, he sounded both a stranger and achingly familiar.

  Absently, she nodded. It made perfect sense he’d be like the sweet, caring Dom featured in one of the stories she’d read on the internet. Lashes fluttering open, she stared at the dove-gray carpet, frowning.

  Where was her relief? This was what she’d hope for. She didn’t wish Mason to be mean. That would be wrong.

  “Say the words.” His thumb rubbed the sweet spot on the curve of her neck.

  “Yes,” she whispered. An odd feeling of loss clogged her throat, confusing her. She’d been horrified when she’d read some of those things. Whips and flogging. Ball gags and cages. Dripping hot wax over a woman’s skin. She shuddered. She didn’t covet any of that.

  With a sudden burst of panic, her gaze flew to the candles lining one of the metal wall pieces.

  Her shoulders sagged. They weren’t even lit.

  “Do you trust me?” Another knot discovered, he worked until it dissolved under his hands.

  “Yes, of course.” And she did. Why wouldn’t she?

  She scanned the room. There wasn’t a riding crop in sight. Which was good. No, great. Exactly what she’d wanted. She nibbled the inside of her cheek.

  Lips brushed featherlight over the curve of her neck. “Do you trust me not to cause you harm?”

  “Yes, Mason.” Unexpected tears stung the corners of her eyes and she squeezed her lids tight to stem the flow. What was wrong with her? Why was she sad?

  “Good.” Warm palms slid over her bare arms and goose bumps rose on her skin. “This isn’t about force. If things get too much or you get overwhelmed and start to panic, all you need to do is say stop. That’s it. It’s that simple. I’ll stop and we’ll talk about what’s going on.”

  Thankful to turn the subject to something tactical, she swallowed until the lump in her throat eased. She wasn’t afraid anymore. But she was curious. “Some of the books, they didn’t have that. They couldn’t say no.”

  He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist. She turned her cheek and pressed her ear to his chest, reassured by his strong, steady heartbeat.

  “Not everything on that list was meant to entice you.” He entwined their fingers. That tan, strong hand should have dwarfed her small, paler one but instead they looked just right.

  “Didn’t you want me to come?”

  “Yes, Anna. Very much.” His grasp tightened as he squeezed, leaning down to nibble a spot between her earlobe and neck. “But it’s important to recognize the good versus the bad. At some point you’re going to say no and I’m not going to stop. I’m going to keep pushing you, and believe it or not, if this is truly a part of your nature, you’re going to let me. You need to learn the difference between that situation and one you truly cannot tolerate. Make sense?”

  Nodding, she pushed away what she’d ignored since she’d opened the first book two weeks ago.

  She drew in a deep breath, exhaled, certain she’d do what Mason desired and they could stay together. It was exactly what she’d been hoping for. She was happy.

  “What’s your safeword?”

  “Stop.” The last bit of resistance nestled in the base of her spin melted away. This was good. Perfect.

  “Good girl.” He kissed her temple and squeezed her in a tight hug. His warm body heating her. “I’m proud of you for being brave.”

  She smiled, glad she’d pleased him. She’d been so worried, and for what? This was going to work out and everything would be fine.

  Mason released her and stepped away. He walked around her until he stood several feet in front of her. Turned and met her gaze. “Strip.”

  She laughed. “What?”

  One brow rose. “Did I stutter?”

  Shock rolled through her, pushing a quick burst of fear through her veins. Had she heard him right? “Excuse me?”

  His lips compressed and coldness filled his expression. “I said, strip.”

  “You mean, like, naked?” She clutched the bodice of her dress. The room chilled as though someone dropped the temperature ten degrees.

  “You’re new to this, I’ll give you a tip. It’s best not to make me repeat myself.” Jaw set in a firm line. Not open to discussion.

  She licked her lips, eyeing him, trying to figure out if this was some sort of joke. She wasn’t a stripping kind of woman. Unable to reconcile the gentle Mason from moments ago with this hard-eyed man standing in front of her, she asked, “Are you serious?”

  “You’re trying my patience, Anna.” Stern tone, unlike one he’d ever used.

  “It’s just that—”The words died in her throat as he took one menacing step toward her. Her heart lurched in a mixture of terror and excitement. Her skin heated and her nipples puckered.

  What was wrong with her?

  “This is how this works. I give an order. You obey. Failure to do so will result in punishment. Between your lateness, smart mouth and current stalling, you’re racking up an impressive list of grievances. The smart move here is not to add to the list.”

  Realization didn’t dawn on her like the breaking of a new day—instead it was a sledge hammer over the head.

  He was serious.

  She’d read everything wrong.

  Protests rose in her throat, fast and furious—if she opened her mouth they’d tumble out in a jumbled mass of incoherence. All she could do was stand here, frozen in her spot.

  “Now. Anna.” The words delivered like bullets, he crossed his arms over his broad, bare chest. The muscles rippled and flexed with the motion. Reminding her just how strong he really was. “Last chance.”

  Her belly dipped. How was she going to do this? He’d always undressed her under soft lights, drugging her with those slow, thorough kisses until she hadn’t thought about being naked. She couldn’t undress with him just…watching her. She met his eyes.

  Not open to discussion.

  Was she prepared to fail on the first task? No, that wasn’t an option. Heart hammering in her throat, she decided to move quickly. All she needed to do was put this room out of her mind and get down to business. Besides, he’d already seen what she had to offer.

  She shifted her attention to the floor and went to work, pretending she was alone in her bathroom getting ready to take a bath. She undid the white pearl buttons as fast as possible. When she’d completed her task, she let the cotton dress drop to the carpet, where it pooled at her feet.

  “Look at me.”

  Her head snapped up.

  “Good.” Approval lightened the fierce expression but he didn’t look any le
ss scary. “But no out-of-body experiences.”

  She faltered at the hook of her bra, frowning. How had he known?

  He chuckled and pointed to her half-naked body. “The rest of it.”

  Out of nowhere rose a swift agitation. Irritation swelled in her throat and she fought the impulse to growl. Stomp her foot. Start a fight. Anything.

  “An outburst won’t help you.”

  She ground her teeth, shooting him evil death glares. When did he become such a darn mind reader?

  A cocky, devilish grin quirked his lips, making him look impossibly sexy. Her eyes narrowed into slits.

  “I never expected you to be such a fighter. I like this side of you.”

  Unexpected pleasure rose like a phoenix from the ashes of her anger. “You do?”

  “Yes.” His gaze, a lazy path down her body.

  “But I thought—”

  “Get on with it,” he said with that edge she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to.

  Was this going to be her punishment? Standing naked in front of him while he scrutinized her? From what she’d read, there was much worse. She put aside her discomfort, kicked off her sandals and rid herself of her bra and panties with record speed.

  Naked, she forced her shoulders back instead of covering herself. She would not cower.

  “You have a beautiful body. Lush and curvy in all the right places.” He circled her like a jungle cat sizing up his prey. “With the most delectable ass.”

  She gasped as he squeezed the curve of her hips, his thumbs pressing into her fleshy behind. The world tilted as he glided over her sides and palmed her breasts, rubbing her nipples with his callused fingers.

  Of course, he’d touched her breasts before but this felt…different. There was no longer anything tentative or gentle in his touch. She was being handled. She bit her bottom lip, locking her knees so they wouldn’t wobble.

  “What am I going to do with these breasts?” He rolled the almost painfully hard buds.

  She squeezed her lids shut, her breath quickened. It was happening. The whole dominance thing. Excitement and fear swirled inside her.

  “Hmmm…we’ll just have to see what I can come up with for my little tiger.” He moved lower, between her legs, dipping into her moist heat. “Not too nervous to get wet, I see.”