Chapter 21
Prue couldn’t believe her ears. “What do you mean, Violet’s been let go?” Cyrus had delivered her to the spa at the prearranged time, squeezing her still-throbbing ass softly before reminding her to go straight back to his house after she was finished. His eyes had been full of promise.
Prue had turned to the receptionist, disgruntled that Cyrus still hadn’t allowed her to come, and had requested that Violet be made available for part of her treatment today. She was getting another Cyrus Special, and she wanted to top off all the cleaning with a pedicure. It would be her reward for getting through another enema, although now she understood why Cyrus insisted she go through with the embarrassing procedure. Hell, he’d even admitted that he went through it himself on a regular basis!
Prue had been stunned when the receptionist had informed her that Violet was no longer working at the spa. Determined to figure out why, Prue felt like a dog with a bone as she questioned the receptionist.
“I’m sorry, Miss, but we had to let her go.” The receptionist examined her nails as she spoke, showing Prue she really didn’t give a damn about Prue’s concern for the sweet young woman.
“Why did you have to let her go?” Prue emphasized the word, aware that she was bordering on being rude.
The receptionist abandoned her examination of her nails, pinning Prue with an icy glare. “It’s really no concern of yours, Miss.”
Prue smiled tightly. “You’re absolutely right. But since I am indeed concerned, don’t trouble yourself about it. I’ll just ask Cyrus.”
The receptionist blanched. “No need to trouble him with something so trivial, Miss, really.”
Prue raised an eyebrow. The receptionist clearly didn’t want Prue to mention this to Cyrus, which Prue found immensely interesting. She decided to push a little more. “You consider a former employee to be trivial? Interesting perspective,” Prue murmured.
The receptionist had gone ashen, and now seemed like she was about to trip over herself in her attempt to explain. “You see, Miss, Violet was found to be embezzling funds. We can’t keep an employee on who steals from us. I’m sure you understand.”
Prue frowned. This didn’t fit together at all. Violet could barely speak English, for goodness sake! Prue thought it was unlikely in the extreme that the Asian woman had been embezzling funds from the spa at Cuero, but she wasn’t about to argue the point. She could tell something was way off with this story, and she hoped to be able to use it to her advantage later. For the receptionist’s benefit, Prue hauled her mind back to their conversation.
“Oh my, embezzling! Well, why didn’t you say so? Of course you had to let her go!” Prue leaned forward, acting like she was completely caught up in the drama. “I hope you called the police. I can’t even imagine what Cyrus must have done when he found out.”
The receptionist smiled, looking relieved. “Honestly, we just let her go instead of calling the police. Hopefully she’s learned her lesson and will behave herself at her next job. Since Cruz handles a big part of the day-to-day business at Cuero, he took care of it. Master Cyrus is busy enough that he doesn’t need to be troubled with little matters like this. I hope you understand.”
Prue nodded conspiratorially although her stomach was churning. “I understand perfectly. I won’t say anything to Cyrus.”
The receptionist smiled. “Good. I’m glad we understand one another.”
Prue smiled back, hopeful that the receptionist didn’t see how fake the smile was. Whatever had happened with Violet, Cruz had been involved. This seemed to be the first solid lead Prue had had, and although it made her queasy to think about the kind, easygoing man being involved with something as ghastly as what Prue suspected, she deliberately hardened her heart. If she was right, Cruz was a first-class bastard.
“All right.” The receptionist’s attention had shifted back to her computer monitor. “You’ll be starting with Angie today. And don’t worry.” She smiled once more at Prue. “She gives a great pedicure. Trust me, you won’t miss Violet at all.”
Prue thanked the receptionist, her stomach twisting. She was willing to bet that somewhere, someone was missing Violet. And now the woman had disappeared.
Prue walked slowly to the change room to don her robe and slippers, and turned to the receptionist almost as an afterthought. “Hey, what happened to the funds she embezzled?”
The receptionist looked blankly back at Prue. “What funds?”
Prue’s eyes narrowed. “The funds you said Violet embezzled. Did you get them back?”
The receptionist nodded vigorously. “Oh absolutely. Cruz wouldn’t have been satisfied with anything less.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” Prue continued to the change room, lost in thought. If there had actually been funds in play, they’d be traceable. And if, as she suspected, there was no embezzlement to be found, then Cruz had just made the top of her suspect list.
* * * *
“Hi!” Prue bounded into the house and threw herself at Cyrus. She’d finally managed to set aside thoughts of Violet long enough to lose herself in the treatments she’d received at the spa, and it had been heavenly to be so pampered. Not rushed like the last time she’d been to the spa, this time she’d been able to really take her time for each treatment, and the spa staff had been amazing. She felt squeaky clean, almost like her skin was glowing, and she kind of wanted to show it off for Cyrus. Unfortunately, it seemed like Cyrus had other plans. He greeted Prue enthusiastically, grinning at her as he kissed her thoroughly.
“The spa was amazing! I think my skin is as soft as a baby’s. Wanna see?” Prue peeked up at Cyrus hopefully, willing him to order her to take her clothes off.
No dice.
“At the moment, pet, I’m much more interested in your tummy. Let’s have dinner first, and then I’ll tell you what we’re doing this evening.”
Prue frowned. She could really, really go for some playtime right now. As Cyrus’s words registered, she turned to him in wonder. “Did you cook?”
Cyrus laughed. “No need to sound quite so shocked. You’ll bruise my delicate ego.” He grinned as Prue snorted. “Nothing fancy, just tacos.”
Prue smiled up at him. “I love tacos.” She spun around, pulling him behind her as she made her way to the kitchen.
The two of them loaded plates with hard taco shells, fragrant chicken, and the other toppings Cyrus had prepared from fresh guacamole to rice and refried beans. Prue slathered her shell with sour cream and sprinkled cheese liberally over everything as she started to assemble her first taco, nibbling bits of things as she went. She snuck a glance at Cyrus and smiled to see that he was starting with a modest three tacos. He was such a big man, and she’d often wondered how he managed to keep his energy up. Apparently a soft spot for guacamole helped.
The two of them sat, eating heartily and laughing at one another as the taco fillings spilled out all over their hands and plates. Cyrus mopped Prue’s face with a napkin when it became covered with sour cream and tomatoes, and she marveled at how his big hands were able to keep things together so much better than her smaller ones. She laughed as she finally admitted defeat, grabbing a fork and using it to toss everything into a taco salad, scooping bites off her plate with her corn taco shell.
Both she and Cyrus were stuffed by the time they finished, Prue taking a long drink of her lemonade and Cyrus pulling on his beer. They sighed, almost in unison, and smiled at one another as they recognized the small intimacy.
Prue cleaned up quietly, the domestic act warming something inside her as her Dom sat and watched after helping to clear the table. On a whim, Prue went to the freezer, remembering having seen Popsicles in it the last time she’d reached for her morning waffles. She grabbed a Popsicle for herself and for Cyrus, and the two moved to the living room to eat them while they chilled out in front of the TV, watching a popular game show and trying to outdo the contestants.
“I’m really enjoying watching you eat that,”
Cyrus growled at one point, making Prue suddenly aware of her lips and tongue. She’d looked at him innocently, licking up and down her Popsicle before sliding it into her mouth. Cyrus had smiled tightly at her.
“Keep putting on the show, pet. You have no idea what you’re in for later.”
And with that, the butterflies returned to Prue’s stomach in full force, reminding her that Cyrus was going to torture her tonight. As she pressed her legs together in excitement, she was also acutely aware that she hadn’t had an orgasm since yesterday—the longest she’d gone since Cyrus had taken her as his sub. She was shocked by how much she’d come to crave his domination, and she felt her whole body soften as she anticipated giving herself to him to use as he wished.
When they’d both finished their Popsicles, Cyrus held out a hand for Prue’s stick, getting up to discard them. When he came back, he reached a hand down to her, pulling her to her feet as she tucked her hand into his.
“Time to get ready, pet.”
Prue felt the heavy thrum of blood in her veins as Cyrus spoke, and she couldn’t resist asking him a question.
“Sir?”
“Yes, pet?”
“What are we doing tonight?”
Cyrus smiled down at Prue. “I already told you, pet, we’re going dancing.”
Chapter 22
Prue was as pumped as a kid on Christmas morning as Cyrus led her up to the bedroom. She recalled in vivid detail the first time they’d danced together, and she was barely able to contain her excitement. She stopped dead when she saw what was lying on the bed.
“Is this for me?” Prue walked to the bed, reaching out for the sexy dress lying on it. She stroked the gold fabric, dying to try on the gorgeous garment. She’d never seen anything so hot.
Cyrus was leaning against the doorframe. “Well it’s certainly not for me. Gold’s not my color.” He smiled at Prue, hugging her as she squealed and jumped on him. “You’ll wear what I tell you to wear tonight, pet, and nothing else.”
Prue pulled back from his embrace, her mouth dropping open. Oh man, Cyrus was going to dominate her tonight, and it looked like it started with her clothes.
“Yes, Sir,” Prue breathed, dropping her gaze. The idea of Cyrus choosing her dress for her was oddly sexy, and she stripped off her sundress in anticipation of putting on the gold confection.
“Wait.” Cyrus’s voice was cold, and Prue turned to him to see the Dom emerge. “I told you you’ll only wear what I tell you. Lose the panties.”
Prue sucked in a breath, worried that he expected her to go commando. The skirt on the dress looked short. She was relieved a moment later as Cyrus moved to the bed, plucking a pair of black lace panties from beneath the dress.
“Put these on.” Cyrus’s voice was deep and even, and Prue didn’t even think of denying him.
“Yes, Sir,” she sighed as she reached for the panties he offered, stripping off her own and replacing them with the black lace Cyrus had given her. Prue frowned. There was a strange fullness to the panties that she hadn’t expected, with pressure that ran from her clit down the seam of her pussy lips. She leaned down to inspect the panties, but before she could do so, Cyrus cleared his throat, commanding her attention.
“Get dressed, pet. We’ll leave in half an hour.” Cyrus started to unbutton his own shirt, pausing when he realized Prue was staring greedily at him. “I’ll spank you if you’re not ready in that time, and you won’t get to come all night.”
Prue reacted instantly, rushing to the bed and lifting the gold dress from where it lay. Looking at the scrap of fabric, she realized she wouldn’t be able to wear a bra, and she grimaced. She hoped Cyrus was okay with some serious bounce.
Prue pulled the dress on over her head and scurried to the bathroom to adjust it, needing the large mirrors. Her mouth fell open as she caught sight of herself. The dress was almost obscenely short, the skirt ending just below her ass. Luckily for her, the skirt was tight, so it moved with her. She made a mental note not to bend down tonight.
The top of the dress fit her like a dream, molding to her curves like it had been made for her. The halter neckline gave way to a bodice draped so low her bellybutton was visible, and only a string that ran beneath her breasts and tied in the back, like a bikini top, preserved her modesty. The back of the dress was open down to the top of her butt with the exception of the string that was tied across her. Prue felt like a million dollars.
She stopped admiring herself long enough to retrieve her makeup bag, and she set about styling herself so that the rest of her looked as hot as the dress. She wanted to wear the dress. She didn’t want the dress to wear her.
After creating a heavy smoky eye and nude lip, Prue set to work on her hair. Recalling that Cyrus liked when she wore it down, she tousled it so it looked like she’d just gotten out of bed, shaking it upside down so it really looked artfully messy.
Pursing her lips at herself in the mirror, she stood back to admire her work. She looked pretty damn good, if she said so herself. Between the dress and the hair and the makeup, she felt as gorgeous as she knew she looked. The only thing missing was shoes.
Prue padded quietly back out to the bedroom, pleased that Cyrus hadn’t noticed her. She wanted to show him the full effect, and that included skyscraper heels. She inserted her feet into a pair of metallic gladiator-style stilettos, and she knew her legs would look amazing. She cleared her throat.
Cyrus turned, and Prue smiled at him, loving the way his gaze darkened as he looked her over. He gestured for her to turn around, and she gave him a slow twirl so he could see the whole package. When she turned back around to face him, she was thrilled to see that his pants were tented at the front by what appeared to be a sizable erection.
“You like?” Prue broke the silence, her voice coming out breathy to her own ears.
“You look stunning,” Cyrus growled. His eyes devoured her, and Prue felt herself heat up from her head to her toes.
“Thank you, Sir,” she said sweetly, sauntering over to her Dom and kissing his cheek by way of thanks for the compliment. “You look pretty tasty yourself.”
Cyrus smiled slightly, his smile cool. “Thank you, pet.” He studied Prue once more. “You know, I think the dress may have been a mistake.”
Prue raised an eyebrow. If he tried to make her change, she’d put up a hell of a fight. “Oh? What’s the problem with it?”
Cyrus’s eyebrows drew together until he was glowering. “I’m going to have to beat the Doms off you tonight. Maybe the Dommes, too.”
Prue laughed, relaxing. “It’s your own fault, you know. You chose what I’m wearing after all.”
Cyrus smiled evilly. “You’re right about that, pet. Right down to the panties.”
Prue bit her lip. She’d forgotten about the odd panties Cyrus had made her wear, and she wasn’t really sure what to say. She suspected quite strongly the panties were some sort of Cyrus-created torture device, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what was so odd about them. She shivered as she realized her nervousness was back. Cyrus still hadn’t tortured her, and she knew her time was running out.
“Umm, Cyrus, about the panties…” Prue trailed off as Cyrus put a finger over her lips.
“The panties make the look. Trust me, I’m going to be thinking about you wearing those panties all night.”
Prue was stymied. Cyrus obviously had a secret, and she was alternating between being terrified and really turned on. Chances were if he was going to like it, she was going to love it…and she was also going to hate it because it was going to be designed to drive her nuts.
Prue drew in a shaky breath as her imagination went into overdrive from panties that would deliver electric shocks to panties with a hidden butt plug, and she felt her knees go wobbly at the deliciousness of anticipating a million alternatives. She licked her lips. She didn’t know what Cyrus was planning, but she was willing to bet it would make the night unforgettable.
“Come on, pet, before y
ou worry yourself silly. I want a dance here before we go to the club. And you have one more accessory to put on.” Cyrus’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at her, withdrawing a strip of black leather from his pocket.
Prue felt her eyes widen as he held it up for her to see. It was a collar. Prue looked at it more closely, seeing that it was engraved. Property of the King, it read, and Prue was tickled to see that Cyrus was taking no chances with her tonight. Silently, he wrapped the collar around Prue’s neck, fastening it with a tiny gold padlock. He dangled the keys in front of Prue’s eyes, and her hand went unconsciously to her neck as she stroked the stiff leather. Being collared had done interesting things to her lady bits, and she kind of loved that tonight she’d be on display as Cyrus’s sub. She beamed up at him. He smiled indulgently back at her before tucking her arm into his, kissing the back of her hand before escorting her down the stairs.
They made their way to the living room where Cyrus turned on the stereo system, surrounding them with a slow, hypnotic beat that sounded Middle Eastern. Prue was thrilled as Cyrus tugged her into his chest, locking their bodies together so that she was pressed against him from breast to hip. She draped one arm around his neck, cupping it with her hand, while with her other hand she traced patterns on one of her Dom’s broad shoulders. She could feel Cyrus’s big hands resting on the bare skin of her back, just above the drape of the dress. She closed her eyes and let the music whisk her away to somewhere exotic, a harem where she was the slave and she danced with her master.
Cyrus seemed to sense her drifting thoughts. “Where did you go, pet?” He didn’t stop dancing, just moved one of his hands to tangle in Prue’s hair, tugging it as he forced her to look up at him.
Prue blushed. “Um, nowhere important.”
Prue's Promises [Submissive Sirens 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 17