She wasn’t sure whether she was pissed at Keith for the stunt he’d pulled earlier. It was one thing to have a quickie. She knew the score when it came to that kind of thing, and she wasn’t upset that he hadn’t discussed it with her first. He’d asked for her limits, and she had merely shrugged. This wouldn’t be one of them. She didn’t mind being awakened that way. She didn’t even mind that he hadn’t made her climax.
The way he told her not to talk took the cake. It hadn’t registered until later, but that kind of treatment crossed a line. Before last night, she hadn’t been sure if she would draw any kind of lines with Keith. From the bottom of her soul, she wanted to please him. She wanted to give him the gift of her submission. But there was definitely a line, and it was becoming easier to see. She wouldn’t tolerate being spoken to in such a disrespectful manner.
She shoved that thought aside for now. He’d left her unfulfilled, and she didn’t have a problem taking care of herself. Actually, the shower was her favorite place to masturbate. She lifted the showerhead away from its holder and brought it closer to her body. Over her shoulders, down her breasts, she directed the warm spray lower and followed with her free hand. She pinched her right nipple. All these years with this body, and she had never appreciated the sensitivity in those nubs. She’d spent her time cursing the fact she couldn’t wear lacy bras because she inevitably ended up with headlights, and that just drew attention to the area in which genetics had skimped. At least Keith didn’t seem to mind.
Pinching harder brought forth a moan she couldn’t suppress. She took her time, playing awhile before she continued. Turning the water to the pulse setting, she aimed it at her clit and eased two fingers into her opening. From the periphery of her vision, she saw a shadow and realized Keith was in the bathroom, watching as she touched herself.
Though she couldn’t see more than just his outline through the smoky glass door, and she reasoned he could only see hers, she exaggerated her movements and put on a show for him. The remembered heat in his eyes from the night before, when she’d straddled his lap and masturbated, drove her now. It ratcheted up her desire. She pumped her fingers harder, jabbing at her G-spot in exactly the right way. Warm water pulsed over her clit. She moaned. Her knees weakened, and the climax took her harder than it normally did when she pleasured herself.
She rested her forehead against the tiled wall while she recovered. Then she finished her shower and opened the glass door.
Keith held out a towel and wrapped her in its softness and his embrace. He pressed his body to her length and massaged her lips with a tender kiss. She closed her eyes and surrendered to his masterful touch.
“I see I have my work cut out for me.”
Still feeling the effects of her climax and his kiss, she blinked uncomprehendingly. “Your work?”
“Yes. You came without permission. I don’t mind if you want to touch yourself, Kitty Kat. I do mind when you steal an orgasm. I’m going to have to teach you some restraint, but that’ll keep. Right now, you need a punishment, and not the usual kind.” He caressed her temple with his lips and fluttered tiny kisses against her eyelids. “Turn and face the counter. Bend over and brace yourself.”
Katrina let her towel drop to the floor as she assumed the position. In the foggy mirror, she could see the fuzzy, distorted image of two people. The sense of foreboding clenching its fist in her stomach wasn’t apparent in the shadowy figure of her reflection. The edge of the counter dug into her palms, and she prepared for the worst. He’d said he only wanted an apology for any infraction, but it became clear to her that he wasn’t following his rules. This had to be new territory for him. Knowing he was changing his routine for her was a balm to her fraying nerves.
“This is going to hurt. Feel free to cry out.”
The fog in the mirror cleared a bit, enough to see that he had her brush in his hand. She wasn’t under the illusion that he wanted to brush her hair. She waited for instructions to count out a specific number, but he seemed to have skipped that part in the romance novels she’d read.
She watched his arm come back and swing down in a wide arc. The hard plastic stung her ass far worse than the deerskin flogger. She exhaled afterward, forgoing the scream for now. Hot pain radiated in short bursts. She’d barely begun to acclimate to the sensation when he struck again and again.
What happened to instructing the submissive to count out the progress of the punishment? Counting made the slave breathe out, better absorbing the force of the blow. It hurt less that way, right? Should she tell him how it was supposed to happen?
He picked up the pace. The heat blended together. Her butt felt like it was on fire, but he kept up the steady pace. Tears wetted her eyes, and she gritted her teeth. All capacity for thought fled her brain. At last she could stand it no longer. She gave in, surrendering to the will of her Master, and she cried out.
The spanking stopped. He traced a random pattern on her ass. She flinched and whimpered. “I’m sorry, Master. I promise I’ll ask next time.” And she was genuinely contrite. Last night, he’d been clear about wanting her to ask beforehand, and she’d ignored his wishes. Never again.
He lifted her and folded her in his arms until her sniffling subsided. Lesson learned. She wouldn’t come again without permission, even if he wasn’t there to ask.
“Get on your knees.” He released her so she could follow his order.
The discarded towel and the spongy bath mat cushioned her knees and provided relief that the tile floor wouldn’t have. She sank down, knees wide as he’d shown her yesterday. Water dripped from her hair and from her body, and the cooling air gave her gooseflesh. It prickled the sensitized skin on her buttocks, increasing the burn and the reminder of her transgression.
He’d dressed in cargo shorts and a thin cotton shirt. With the flick of his wrist, he unbuttoned the shorts. They fell to his ankles, and he wasn’t wearing underwear. His cock sprang from its nest of dark golden curls. She knew what he wanted.
“Open your mouth, slave.”
She’d fantasized about sucking his cock, but in her imaginings, it had always happened on her terms. He’d stand there and just enjoy her gift. This, she knew, would be different. He was going to take what he wanted, and she was merely a vessel for his pleasure.
She opened her mouth. He eased the tip inside, letting her wet him with her tongue. She took the opportunity to explore him, dipping her tongue into the drop of precum beading at his tip and running it along his sensitive ridge. When she completed the preliminaries, he grasped her head in his large hands, and she gripped his hips.
“Relax your jaw. Cradle my cock with your tongue.”
He pushed deep, almost to the back of her throat. She choked, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps that was part of the discipline? At any rate, he fucked her mouth with quick, deep thrusts. She fondled his sac to increase his pleasure, and so she felt his balls draw up, signaling his imminent climax.
Instead of thrusting deep to come in the back of her throat, he pulled out. Ejaculate shot all over her lips, cheeks, and chin. She closed her eyes against the splatters and the complex feelings arising as the result of his unexpected action.
Had he come on her face as part of the punishment because she’d climaxed without permission, or had he done it because he was a Dom and he enjoyed the look of semen on his slave’s face? Either way, she didn’t like it. Spanking, she could appreciate. Coming on her face, she could not.
She felt for her towel and wiped away evidence of his dominance. As she rocked back to rise to her feet, she nailed him with a look. She wasn’t sure what the look conveyed, because her emotions were too jumbled to be clear. Instead of saying anything to him—because she didn’t know what to say—she turned to the sink and washed her face.
In the mirror, she saw him pull up his shorts and fasten them.
SHE SCRUBBED HER face furiously. Keith watched with mixed emotions. He’d come on his subs’ faces so often that he no longer stopped to
consider whether they’d enjoy it. The practice marked a sub, literally and figuratively, as property. He’d held her head and forced her to watch as he ejaculated on her face. The marks on her ass were already fading. But no matter how vigorously she washed, the image, the feel of his hot spunk, and the strong emotions he elicited left an indelible tattoo that could never be removed.
Clearly, he’d pissed her off. He’d warned her that he was a bastard. Though he’d made a deliberate decision to hold her after sex, that didn’t change his general philosophy or practice as a Dom. The subs who liked humiliation lasted longer with him, but not much longer.
Face dripping with water, she straightened and turned. The towel where she’d initially wiped the mess lay wadded on the floor. She cast a hateful look at it before pushing him out of her way to access the linen closet behind him. She patted her face dry, and then she used the new towel to squeeze some excess moisture from her hair and to finish drying her body.
Keith watched, his face purposely devoid of any expression. He had to wait her out, to see how she would react. Would she accept what he’d done, or would she add that to her list of hard limits?
She stalked from the bathroom and grabbed her bathrobe from her bedroom closet. He hadn’t told her to dress, and her move to cover herself made his impassive mask difficult to hold.
When he’d returned with her requested coffee, he had expected to find her still asleep. He’d used her hard, and he knew she had been exhausted by the time he finally let her go to sleep. When he found her in the shower, her hands gliding over her slick skin as she lowered the showerhead to point the spray at her pussy, he’d become instantly hard. He could—and fully intended to—watch her masturbate often. But she needed to learn to ask before she climaxed.
The blowjob hadn’t been a punishment. She’d turned him on, and it was her job to satisfy his needs, especially the ones she created.
Coming on her face had been part habit and part primal need. Her stunned reaction had given him pause, which was why he let her tie her bathrobe closed when every inclination he had screamed at him to rip away her clothes and paddle her ass again. Not for punishment; just for fun.
“I feel an almost overwhelming urge to slap your face.”
He leaned a shoulder against the frame of the door separating her bedroom from her bathroom and crossed his arms. “It’s good you refrained.” He liked to be on the receiving end of impact play, but not on his face.
Five steps, and she closed the distance between them. She poked a finger at his chest, letting loose some of that bottled fury. “What the hell was that?”
Closing his hand around her finger, he eased some of the pressure of her jab and exerted some of his own. “The blowjob? You started it. You know I like watching when you masturbate. You saw me watching you. It made it hotter for you, didn’t it? You got off on the fact that it turns me on to watch you.”
“That is so not the issue!” She jerked her hand from his grasp. “I know what kind of women you tend toward. Maybe they like it, but I doubt it. That’s probably why they kick you to the curb so quickly. Never, ever do that again.”
He narrowed his eyes, knowing full well how frightening his glare could be. “It wasn’t punishment, though I see I’m going to have to spend some time teaching you to control your orgasms. As I said, I don’t mind if you touch yourself, but you are not to come without my permission.”
This time she smacked the palm of her hand full on his chest. She packed quite a wallop, but she failed to move him. “Damn it! Stop trying to change the subject. I’m not into humiliation. I don’t mind crawling or sucking your dick or even the fact that you got yourself off this morning when I was barely even awake. I will not countenance you treating me with such disrespect. I’m the same person I was yesterday, and I expect you to treat me with the same dignity and respect.”
“You’re upset that I came on your face?” He asked to clarify. Though she’d said she was okay with blowing him, he wasn’t sure whether she was upset over the rough treatment or the way he’d finished.
Fury flared brighter in her eyes, lending a hellish darkness to them. “Don’t play games with me. You know exactly why I’m upset. Everything was fine until you pulled that stunt.”
As a child, Keith had always been the one to push until someone retaliated. He had instigated more than his share of fights because he looked at the boundaries people set and barreled through them. Telling him to stop was like waving a figurative red flag.
One swift move, and he had her pinned between the wall and his body. “Let me get this right. You’re okay with me shooting my junk all over your stomach, but not your face?”
She wiggled her hands between them and pushed, but he had the advantage in weight and height. “I also don’t appreciate being told to shut up. You want to fuck me in the morning, fine. Don’t you ever tell me to be quiet in such a condescending way again. I won’t put up with it, Keith. Maybe your other subs were doormats, but I’m not.”
“Chest?”
She shoved harder. “Move. You don’t get to intimidate me when we’re not in a scene.”
He knew he wasn’t intimidating her. Despite his best effort, or perhaps because of it, she was about three seconds from nailing him in the balls. He thrust a knee between her legs to block that move. “Answer the question. Are you okay with me coming on your chest?”
Her bathrobe had come loose, and he had a clear view of the softly rounded tops of her breasts. Blood rushed to his cock.
She stopped struggling and shifted to lean against the wall. “Yes. That’s kind of hot. I did like when you came on me yesterday. Watching you masturbate was definitely a turn-on. I even liked the way you woke me up this morning. It made me feel powerful and important. Like I belonged to you. Like I mattered. But the other things were not cool.”
Her admission eviscerated any doubts he had about her submissiveness. Though she sounded every bit as pissed off, her voice had softened, and so had her expression. At least until she got to the last part.
He pushed back a strand of wet hair that had fallen over her forehead. “That’s the kind of Dom I am, Kitty Kat.”
“No. It’s not.”
With a sigh, he stepped back and gave her some space. “It is. I’ve been trying to tell you this since last weekend, but you don’t want to believe it. The evidence is staring you in the face, but you don’t want to face facts. Since you just want me to train you, I’ve actually been nicer and more considerate with you than I’ve ever been with a woman. Still, it’s less than you deserve.”
Lines scrunched between her eyebrows as she adjusted her robe. “That’s a nice piece of bullshit, but I’m not buying. Maybe it’s the kind of Dom you’ve been, but it’s not who you are. I know you, Keith. I know the sides of yourself that you hide from your lovers. You can’t pretend to be someone you’re not with me. You don’t get a free pass to be an asshole.”
He backed away and sank down on the edge of her mattress, more than a little defeated. He should have known she wouldn’t be able to accept this side of him. “You want someone who can be gentle, who can look at you with affection and touch you with reverence. That’s not me.”
She shook her head. “You’re selling yourself short. I won’t let you do that.”
Her faith in him was tremendously misplaced. He couldn’t win this argument, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to try to convince her to settle for him. He’d been a fool to entertain the possibility that he could have a piece of this dream. At the end of the day, he was only howling at the moon. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here last night.”
Little by little, her eyes widened and her lips parted as she realized he was breaking it off. “You’re afraid. You’re ending this because you’re scared.”
Afraid of losing her friendship? Hell, yes. “I can’t take the chance I’ll cause more damage than I already have.”
She covered her eyes with her hand. He couldn’t tell if she was holding b
ack tears or anger. “Fine. I can’t force you to do something you don’t want to do. I’ll ask Jordan to train me.”
It killed him to imagine Jordan anywhere near her, but she deserved someone who could cherish her body and soul. Jordan Monaghan could do that. He might look a little rough around the edges, but he knew how to treat a woman. “That’s probably for the best.”
She turned her back to him, though not before he saw the moisture gathering in her eyes, and yanked open a drawer in her dresser.
KATRINA SNATCHED AT the stack of panties that was supposed to be on the left side of her top drawer, but she came up empty. The tears blurring her vision brimmed over and burned hot on her cheeks. She’d been stupid to think he wanted this as much as she did. Malcolm had told her several times that Keith was emotionally damaged, that he’d probably never settle down because he didn’t believe he deserved happiness. She’d rolled her eyes at her brother’s dire prediction, but now she saw the truth of his statement. Keith went out of his way to alienate anyone who got too close.
Well, she couldn’t let him do that to her. She whirled around to give him a further piece of her mind, only to find him standing right behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her so tight she thought he might crack her ribs.
“I’m sorry. I never wanted this to happen.”
She tilted her face up, though it took some doing to get him to ease his hold enough for her to move. “Keith, just because we disagree doesn’t mean it has to end. I want you to train me, not somebody else.”
The relief in his expression was immeasurable. “I’m not used to such a feisty sub.”
She thought he probably selected subs who capitulated to his every demand because he thought that was the kind of woman he craved. While she knew he wanted a submissive, she also knew he needed someone who wouldn’t let him get away with being a jerk. He needed to be with someone he liked and respected. If she could just keep him around long enough, she could get him to see that.
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