“Thank you … Sir.”
“Kneel before the sofa.” He pointed to the white sofa closest to her. “Put your head down on the seat cushion with your hands beneath you.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Do it!”
Frightened by his snappy tone, Sam went to the sofa and kneeled, resting her head on the seat cushion as he’d instructed. She felt vulnerable and exposed in that position.
Sam heard him coming up behind her. When his hand touched her ass, she flinched.
“I said I wasn’t going to spank you. I do not lie, Sam. We can’t have trust if I lie.”
As his fingers ran over the curve of her butt, the tingle in her belly grew more insistent.
“Punishment is not easy for me, but it must be done to make sure you follow my instructions.” His fingers slid into the crack between her butt cheeks.
Sam bit her lip as the burning in her groin came to life.
“Some punishments will not be about pain, but pleasure.”
His fingers crept lower to her folds, and when he caressed her clit, Sam felt the wetness spread between her legs.
“You see?” He traced his fingertips along her folds. “You like this.” When he rammed his fingers into her, Sam whimpered. “Now let’s see how wet I can get you.”
Sebastian moved his two fingers in and out, rubbing his thumb across her sensitive nub with every deep penetration.
Still sore, Sam winced as he shoved inside her. She quickly forgot about the pain as her pleasure took over. Her heart pumped faster, her breath came in gasps, and her muscles quivered when he went deep. She was careening toward a delicious orgasm. Just when she was on the edge of coming, he yanked his hand away.
“Were you about to come?”
Sam clenched her butt cheeks as the ache to climax swept through her.
“I control your orgasms, Sam. You only come when I allow it.”
He waited, kneeling behind her as her urge to come lessened. When her breathing had slowed, he thrust his fingers into her again. The assault made her curl inward.
Sebastian moved in and out, taunting her. The orgasm traveled up her spine, and right when she was about to give in to it, he stopped.
This time, the discomfort of not being able to climax was even more intense, making her clench her fists.
“I will heed you in all things, Sir … say it,” he demanded.
“I will heed you in all things, Sir.”
He slapped her ass. “Now I will make you remember that promise.”
Again his fingers went deep. She arched as he stimulated her, bringing her just to the edge of climax, but refused to let her enjoy her release. When he pulled away, she crashed against the sofa cushion. The pain of being denied that which her body so desperately craved was devastating.
The next time he entered her, she was begging to come. The fifth time, she was screaming. After her seventh denial, she was covered in sweat and her muscles were twitching. She waited as he kneeled behind her for him to enter her again, but he did nothing. He stood and picked up his jacket from the side of the sofa.
“Get your bags and follow me upstairs.”
When Sam finally stood, she felt weak. Her groin was throbbing and raw. She was stooping for her clothes on the floor when he stopped her.
“Don’t dress.”
Keeping her head lowered, she picked up her bags and followed him to the stairs.
At the bedroom entrance, he took the duffel bag and backpack from her. “We will sleep in here together. You are to go to bed with me every night and get up with me every morning.” Sebastian set her bag on his beige comforter.
She raised her eyes to him. “Am I allowed to get up and pee in the middle of the night?”
“Glad to see you’re still feisty.” Sebastian went to the arched bathroom entrance and pointed to a door on the right. “Your closet is here.” He returned to the bed and gestured to her overnight bag. “Unpack.”
She folded her arms over her breasts. “Now?”
Sebastian came up to her, lowering her hands to her sides. “When you are done unpacking, we will go shopping for you.”
She glanced down at her naked body. “Like this?”
He unzipped her duffel bag and peeked inside. “Don’t be silly.”
Pushing him aside, she retrieved her jeans and a few T-shirts from her bag. “If you ask me, you’re the one who’s being silly, Sir. You ever thought about therapy?”
Sam stepped inside the walk-in closet. There was a chest of drawers built into the back wall, and an alcove for shoes. Taking a few cedar hangers off the rack, she arranged her jeans and hung up her T-shirts. When she exited the closet, she ran smack into Sebastian.
He was holding up her pink box of tampons. “What’s this?”
“What does it look like?”
He took the box and dumped the contents into the trash can under the white vanity. “You are never to use tampons.” He plopped the box on the counter and opened a cabinet underneath the sink. “I have pads down here for you. The only thing allowed to be inside of you is me.”
“You’re not serious? You’re jealous of a tampon?”
He came up to her. “I’m not jealous. I need to know the only thing that ever gets inside of you is either my finger or my cock. Nothing else.”
“I don’t like pads,” she whined.
“I don’t care.”
“It’s my body!”
“No, Sam. It’s mine.” His fingers then slid into her folds. “You are not to cut your hair unless you ask. Masturbate unless I instruct you to do so. Change your body, alter your diet, or do anything that is different to your appearance. I am your everything, Sam. You do not breathe unless I give you permission. Do you understand?”
Sam was beginning to comprehend the extent of his control.
She glared into his eyes. “Yes, Sir.”
He pulled his hand away and spun her around, facing the chest of drawers. “Put your hands on the chest and spread your legs.”
What now? More torture?
Then she heard his zipper being lowered, and the sound of plastic ripping open.
He pulled her hips back, and Sam gasped with surprise. “Follow my instruction and you will please me.” He kissed her shoulders as he drove his cock deep into her. “And I will please you.”
Still tender, Sam winced as he began pounding into her. She should have been mortified by being taken in such a way, but she was still so desperate for release that she welcomed him. Spreading her legs wide apart, she entreated him to go deeper. He was lifting her heels off the floor, grunting into her back as he fucked her, hard. This time, when her orgasm barreled upward, he did not stop. The satisfying scream that erupted from her was almost foreign to her ears.
“That’s it. Scream for me,” he growled into her back.
While he was still moving in and out, his fingers pinched her clit, hurtling her into another even more intense climax. She almost crumbled to the floor, but Sebastian held on to her, embracing her as she bucked in his arms.
When he groaned and came inside her, she was exhausted. She barely had the strength to stand. Leaning against the dresser, she wished she could find the words to scold him for his actions, but she couldn’t. Sam had enjoyed what he had done to her … and she wanted more.
“Is it always going to be like this with you?”
He scooped her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. Setting her on the bed, he kissed her lips. “Yes.”
He stood back from her and removed the condom. Zipping up his pants, he nodded to her. “Get dressed. It’s time to go shopping.”
After he walked out of the bedroom, Sam fell back against the bed.
Slapping her hand over her face, she muttered, “God help me.”
* * *
With Sam securely buckled in his black Range Rover, Sebastian drove her to the trendy shopping center at One Canal Place. With expensive stores that catered to the elite in the ci
ty, Sam questioned why Sebastian had taken her there to buy clothes. Honestly, wouldn’t a robe and slippers be all she would need?
“There are a few stores in here that have the kind of clothes I like,” he disclosed, while he searched the garage for a parking spot.
“What kind of clothes do you buy for your subs?”
He gave her an amused side-glance. “You’ll see.”
Sam had her doubts.
The first store he took her to was Victoria’s Secret. Big surprise there. Probably bought in bulk from them.
When they walked in, Sebastian took her hand. “Let me do the talking.”
“In a lingerie store? They’ll either think you’re gay, or really weird.”
“I’ve done this before.”
A green-eyed store clerk with ample hips, and a too appreciative smile, hurried up to them. “Mr. Dane, so glad to see you’re back.”
“Carrie.” He greeted the clerk with his affable grin. “I need the works for my friend here.” He waved to Sam. “I would like to see her in green, blue, yellow for the everyday. Black and red for evening wear. Get her some silk robes in pink, as well. You know what I want, Carrie.”
“Of course, Mr. Dane.” Carrie turned to Sam. “Come with me.”
Watching his smug smirk as she walked away, Sam followed the clerk to the dressing rooms.
“What are you, 34 B cup, and about a size two panties?” Carrie inquired, glimpsing Sam’s figure.
“Yes, that’s it exactly.”
“I’ve always handled Mr. Dane’s ladies. I know his tastes. Not to worry. We will find you the perfect outfits.” Carrie gave her a knowing wink. “But, I have to admit, you’re not like the others.”
Sam trotted closer to the store clerk. “How many others have you helped?”
Carrie raised a single dark eyebrow. “Including you, eight.”
Eight? “So what kind of woman does he bring here?” Sam pestered.
“Tall, long legs, blonde, 36 C or D cups, and always a size four. He always wants the best for his ladies.”
“‘Ladies’?” Sam stifled her snort. “Not girlfriends?”
“I don’t ask questions. I just outfit their underclothes. I have several like your Mr. Dane. Every time they come in, it’s with a new woman. When you’ve worked at this store as long as I have, you see a lot of unusual relationships.”
* * *
Every store Sebastian entered, he was well known to the salesclerks. At Evelyn’s—a unique boutique that catered to women’s high-end fashions—he selected two pantsuits, two dresses, some casual slacks, and blouses for Sam. He also insisted on a formal sea foam blue gown for her. Tapered at the waist with a wide skirt and small crystals sewn into the bodice, it was the most amazing piece of clothing Sam had ever worn. She never questioned his purchases. When he insisted on makeup for her at Saks Fifth Avenue, or bought a set of leather purses, she kept quiet. However, when it came to his footwear choices, Sam finally spoke up.
“I’m not wearing that,” she emphatically stated as the clerk in Delilah’s shoe store held up a three-inch, black pump.
“Sam,” Sebastian grumbled under his breath. “What did I tell you?”
“Do you plan on adding legal expenses to the ridiculous amount of money you’re spending on me? Put me in those shoes, and I will maim or injure old ladies and small dogs.”
He covered his mouth and laughed. “I forgot about your propensity for disaster.” He eyed the shoe. “Perhaps something in a lower heel, Mary Beth,” he said to the curly-haired clerk. “Let’s go with one-inch for the pumps, in blue, black, cream, and throw in one pair of black stilettoes with a rhinestone heel. Make the rest everyday flat shoes, in natural, black, brown, and beige.”
“Yes, Mr. Dane.”
“Stilettos? Are you mad?” Sam questioned after the clerk had scurried away.
“For practice.”
Sam eased back on the bench next to him. “Do you read a lot of women’s fashion magazines or something? How do you know so much about women’s clothing?”
He turned to her, his eyes dancing with amusement. “I pay attention. When I see a woman wearing something I like, I ask her about it. I dress my subs in the styles I prefer, the colors that please me, and fabrics I find the most flattering. I told you this is for my pleasure.”
“But you don’t have to wear the shit, Sebastian.”
“It’s Sir, and don’t curse. If I have to warn you again, I will take you over my knee and spank you, hard.”
“Do you ever get tired of doing this?”
“No. I’m a Dom. Making sure everything is done my way is the reason I go to such lengths with you and others like you.”
She met his irksome gaze with her own. “Doesn’t that get old? Finding subs, dressing them, and training them? Do you ever want to sit at home one night, chug a beer, and watch football like a normal guy?”
“You just moved in with me, Sam. How do you know I don’t do that?”
Her eyes swept over his face, trying to read him, but he was always so guarded, as if his every thought were a state secret. “You don’t let people see the real you. I think I’ve pretty much figured that out. Is it because you don’t like who you are on the inside? Or is it if you spend too long looking inward, you’ll scare yourself to death?”
His eyes became two wintry slits. “Careful, Sam, don’t push me.”
“Is that a threat … Sir?”
He never replied. Sitting quietly until Mary Beth returned, Sam could not help but gloat as his nostrils flared. So he did have vulnerabilities like everyone else. From now on, Sam wouldn’t feel so helpless with him. She had found a way to fight back.
It was late in the evening when they exited the private elevator leading to Sebastian’s penthouse. Weighed down with shopping bags, Sam hurried in behind him after he opened the front door. Following his lead, she piled her shopping bags on the living room sofas.
“You can spend tomorrow putting everything away,” he said, laying out the long dress bag with her gown.
Sam raised her nose in the air as she detected the smell of something wonderful. Glancing toward the dining room, she discovered the table was set with his shiny white china, an arrangement of chafing dishes, and a silver ice bucket topped with an open bottle of champagne.
“I wanted our first dinner together to be special. I had Delmonico’s on St. Charles cater the meal. I hope you like duck.” Sebastian removed the purse from her shoulder. “I have one last present to give you.” He took her hand.
“But you’ve already spent a fortune on me.” She motioned to the pile of shopping bags.
“It’s all part of your transition.”
At the dining table, he pulled out one of the thick white chairs. Taking her seat, Sam’s stomach rumbled. The food smelled divine. On her plate, there was a light blue box with a white bow on top.
“What’s this?”
He took the chair at the head of the table—naturally—and lifted the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket. “Your present … but first we must toast to the start of your training.” He poured the champagne into her crystal flute. “Today is the start of your four weeks of training with me. When four weeks are up, you will officially be my sub.”
“I thought I was already your sub.”
He filled his flute with the golden bubbly. “The first four weeks with me are for training purposes, to see if you’re ready to take up a permanent position as my sub.”
She picked up her champagne. “What if I wanted to make this permanent now?”
He returned the bottle to the silver ice bucket with a thud. “Until you’re thoroughly aware of what it takes to be my sub, you can’t make that decision.”
She shrugged, holding up her glass to him. “I told you, I trust you. What else do I need to know?”
Snickering, he lifted his glass. “I want you to be sure. Very sure.” He tipped his glass to hers. “To us.”
She took a deep sip of champagne.
“I’m already sure.”
“Let’s see if you still feel that way after a month with me.” He took a drink of champagne and then pointed to the box on her plate. “Open it.”
Giddy, Sam tore off the bow and opened the box. Inside was a simple black silk rope collar with a gold clasp. She held it up to him. “Am I getting a dog?”
Standing from his chair, he took the collar from her hand. “This is your training collar. You are to wear it at all times. Only I can take it off you.”
“You mean I have to sleep with it?”
He went behind her, moved her hair out of the way, and fastened the collar around her neck. “You’ll get used to it.”
She didn’t like the way it felt. “I would have preferred the dog.”
“Pets are unpredictable.”
Her hand went to the collar. “Did you do this with your other subs?”
He returned to his chair. “Every Dom puts some form of collar or jewelry on their sub to show ownership.”
Drinking from her flute, Sam made a mental note to tell Piper she had glossed over that little tidbit of information. “So when my training is up, can I take the collar off?”
“When your four weeks are up, you will get a different collar … if you decide to stay.”
She put her glass down and ran her finger along the rim. “You ever think about one day not being a Dom?”
Sebastian lifted the lid on one of the chaffing dishes closest to him. “No, why would I?”
“What about having a family? If you think a pet is unpredictable, I can’t imagine what you would think of a baby.”
He spooned a peppery combination of vegetables in a dark brown sauce on to her plate. “I like my life as it is, Sam. I don’t want the complications of children or a wife.”
“What about your business? Who will you leave it to?”
Sebastian scowled. “Having someone to pass on a business to is a sorry excuse for having a child, trust me. From the earliest age, I was taught my duty in life was to take over the reins of Dane Shipping from my old man.”
Dark Attraction: The Corde Noire Series Page 17