Collaring Brooke (Club Zodiac Book 3)

by Becca Jameson

  “No. It’s not that.” He lowered onto a chair on his deck and leaned his elbows against his knees. “I know I’m trained, but I never visualized myself in this position. I’m not a sadist. You’re the sadist.”

  Lincoln laughed. “And look what happened to me? I ended up with a woman who isn’t a masochist. The universe sometimes guides us in unexpected directions. All we can do is go with the flow.”

  “Does it bother you?”

  “What? That Sasha isn’t into masochism? Not at all. I worried about it at first, but then I got over it. I love her. She’s it for me. I wouldn’t care if she wanted me to sell the club and leave the lifestyle. I’d do anything for her.”

  Carter chewed on his lower lip, pondering Lincoln’s words. He made sense. Carter would do anything for Brooke. She was totally under his skin as if he’d known her for years. She was his. What was holding him back? “I’m afraid of harming her, emotionally more than anything.”

  “So take it slow. I’m not suggesting you grab a cat o’ nine tails and beat her bloody. Start small. See how she reacts. Work your way up. Negotiate. Keep the lines of communication open.”

  Carter cringed at the visual.

  “Have you struck her at all? Spanked her?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how did she react?”

  “I combined it with sex. She thrived.”

  “Then there’s your answer. You like your submissives to get off sexually from the experience. Make sure she does. Every time. Keep her on the edge. Do everything you can to steer her in a sexual direction. Combine the two. I assume whatever her past looks like, her abuse didn’t include sex if it only came from her mother?”

  “No. Never.” Thank God.

  “Work your way from spanking to something harder until you finally reach a tool you can both agree on, something that gives her the release she needs without compromising your preferences. Guide her so that every experience gets her off until she connects the pain with sex instead of some misconceived need to redeem herself.”

  Carter took a deep breath, lifting his head. “What if it’s not enough? What if she wants me to draw blood? I could never do that.”

  “Then you’ll know you weren’t meant to be together. But I don’t think it will come to that. I spend my days with a woman I would never practice sadism with, and I don’t miss it. You’ll add a little sadism to your life, and I’ll bet anything it will stop making you nervous, especially if you combine every scene with sex. If she gets aroused when you land a flogger on her, win-win.”

  “Maybe.” He hoped Lincoln was right.

  “If she’s as into you as you are her, she’ll be willing to compromise also. She’ll let go of the need to be beaten harmfully once she gets a taste of what it’s like to submit to your way. If not, then it wasn’t meant to be.”

  “Yeah.” That might possibly be the worst part. Subconsciously Carter was dragging his feet out of fear that no matter what he did, it would never be enough for Brooke. Lincoln was right. Carter could flog her. He could easily use a lot of different equipment on her without compromising his personal tastes.

  The scariest part of all was inching closer and closer to what would inevitably be a hard line for him only to find out it still wasn’t enough for her.

  The only way to find out would be to take a leap and hope for the best.

  “Thanks, man. Appreciate the advice.”

  “Anytime.”

  Later that evening, she was once again on the floor at his feet, hands behind her back, head in his lap. He had been stroking her hair for a while, loving the feel of her locks running between his fingers at least as much as she obviously enjoyed feeling his touch.

  His heart swelled. She was so perfect for him. He desperately wanted her to see it, but he was afraid to say too much and scare her. It was one thing to claim her during sex, but in a calm moment, it was so much more powerful.

  His fingers kept tracing the line of her neck. A few times he even halfway circled it from behind. She sighed at the touch.

  Suddenly, he knew he not only wanted to own her, but he would do whatever it took to get there. She had so many things to figure out, but he wanted to be with her through all of it. He wanted her in his life forever. He still wanted her to grow and find herself and be the best she could be, but he wanted her to do all that as his.

  Ever since his talk with Lincoln, he’d felt more confident. Determined. He could make this work. He would need to take a few personal risks, but he could do it.

  While he continued to stroke the line of her neck, a sudden realization struck him. He wanted her to wear his collar.

  The idea had never entered his mind before. Not with any other woman. No one he had dated or dominated had elicited this feeling. This sense of ownership. This desire to claim her.

  He knew others who had collared their submissive, but he’d never pondered the idea for himself. Until now.

  Until Brooke.

  What would she say?

  He wouldn’t dare broach the subject today. Hell, he hadn’t even pointed out in their most lucid moments how much he cared about her. He was falling in love with her.

  So, when she lifted her head and licked her lips, meeting his gaze with complete seriousness, he couldn’t deny her anything. “Please flog me.” Her lip trembled. She was worried he would turn her down, and she’d obviously worked very hard to ask.

  He had no idea if it was the right thing to do, but he couldn’t disappoint her either. He needed to trust himself. Take Lincoln’s advice and work with her. He cupped her face and held her gaze. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. I need the release. I know you keep hoping submitting to you is enough, and I don’t want you to think I don’t like it. I do. I love it. It takes the edge off and helps me relax, but sometimes I need more. And I need to know I can ask for it and not be denied. If you can’t, I don’t think this will work out.”

  She was so brave. So strong. So gorgeous.

  He nodded. “All right, baby. But I want us to meet with some other people soon and discuss this to make sure it’s not doing you more harm than good.” If she continued to push for more, he would want Lincoln to step in and provide advice. Not just on the phone but in person.

  “Okay.” She narrowed her gaze. “It’s Saturday night. Shouldn’t you be at the club? You didn’t go last night either.”

  He smiled. “Took the weekend off. They’ll survive without me. This was more important.”

  She nodded. “Then you’ll do it?”

  “Yes. But you’ll use your safeword if you need it too, right?”

  “Yes. Red. Yellow if I need you to slow down.”

  He cupped her chin. “Go to the bedroom, remove everything, hands and knees on the bed.”

  She eagerly stood and padded from the room while he leaned back, stared at the ceiling, and prayed he was doing the right thing. Again.

  Gathering up all his strength, he followed her. As he entered the bedroom, he tugged his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor.

  She was already on the bed in the position he’d requested when he passed by her to grab his bag of toys from the closet. He’d used a flogger on lots of women. It could be soothing like a massage, but that wasn’t what Brooke had in mind. She needed him to strike harder.

  After taking the time to mold her sweet bottom with his hand, he dragged the tips of the black leather across her skin.

  She giggled when he skimmed her waist, squirming to one side. “Tickles.”

  He smiled and did it again, loving the sound of her laughter.

  “I’m gonna start slow and easy and build from there. You will use your safewords if it gets too intense. I won’t fault you for needing to slow down. Use yellow freely. We’ll regroup and then continue.”

  “Okay.” She lowered her head, her hair falling in long curly locks around her face. He didn’t want to pull it back this time, sensing she needed the escape. The partial solitude.

  “Lowe
r to your elbows. Forehead on the pillow. Bottom high in the air.”

  She did as he instructed.

  “Part your knees.”

  She inched them out, her movements so much faster than even a day ago. She was such an amazing submissive. He didn’t doubt that for a moment. But a masochist?

  He shook doubts from his head, set his hand on her lower back, and lifted the flogger to land it across her butt cheeks. She rocked forward only an inch. He knew he hadn’t struck her hard enough to elicit anything but the knowledge about the feel of his flogger.

  No two people struck in exactly the same way, and no two floggers had the same impact. Whatever scenes she’d done with Faith wouldn’t be the same.

  She held herself stiffly until after he’d struck her about a dozen times, and then her shoulders relaxed and she sighed into the pillow.

  After climbing between her legs, he held her hip with one hand and continued to rhythmically swat her bottom, back and forth, up and down, hitting her thighs and occasionally her shoulder blades.

  Her skin heated, turning a gorgeous shade of pink that made his cock hard and surprised him. He didn’t ordinarily get aroused from this sort of domination. He also didn’t ordinarily have an emotional connection to his submissive when he did a scene.

  Brooke brought something new out of him. Almost scary.

  When he was sure she wouldn’t rock away from the contact, he released her. “I expect you to remain in this position. Don’t lean away from me. Understood?” He didn’t want to restrain her. Not tonight.

  “Yes.” Hopefully she recognized the importance of his request.

  He picked up the pace and the force, the sound of every swat filling the air with the soothing tone of dominance.

  She moaned finally, sending relief down his spine. He wanted her to get aroused. If he was going to whip, flog, spank, or paddle her regularly, he wanted it to end with sex. Lincoln was right about that. Carter wanted to redirect her release in the form of orgasm, even if it followed a session that left her ass pink from palm prints, leather, or welts.

  Since she was clearly in the zone, enjoying every second, he continued, increasing the pressure again while gauging the level of redness covering her thin skin.

  The moment she arched her neck, he dropped the flogger and reached between her legs to thrust two fingers into her pussy.

  She screamed his name. “Carter.” And then she came around his fingers, making him the happiest man on Earth. Thank. You. God.

  When she was spent, he expected her to collapse to the bed in exhaustion.

  But his little sub had more stamina than he gave her credit for.

  Chapter 22

  Brooke had never felt so amazing in her life. So totally sated and perfect.

  Except one thing.

  The penetration she’d experienced for the first time that morning had haunted her all day. His fingers simply didn’t do the trick. She needed him inside her more than her next breath.

  She rose up, spun around, and attacked the button on his jeans as fast as she could.

  He let her. In fact, when her shaking fingers fumbled, he brushed them away and unzipped his jeans for her. Without a word, he shoved them down his hips and kicked them off. He wasn’t wearing underwear, and he’d already ditched his shirt before he flogged her.

  In seconds she had him in her hands and leaned forward without warning to suck him into her mouth.

  He grabbed her head, threading his fingers into her hair. “Brooke… Baby…”

  She couldn’t stop, enjoying the taste of him. Salty on her lips, the precome leaking every time she flicked her tongue over the tip. She wrapped her hand around the base of him and sucked him in deeper.

  He groaned loudly and tugged her hair hard enough to pull her off. His face was filled with frustration when she leaned back. Instead of letting him control her any more tonight, she shoved him onto his back and climbed over him.

  His mouth hung open as if he intended to say something, but she never gave him a chance. Instead, she straddled his hips and slammed down over his cock.

  The stretch was tight, and she was sore from fucking him for the first time that morning, but she settled on his cock, tipped her head back, and took a deep cleansing breath.

  When her body acclimated to his girth, she leaned forward, set her palms on his chest, and lifted almost off only to thrust back downward again.

  “Jesus, baby.” He grabbed her hips. Instead of stopping her, though, he helped her, lifting and lowering her body off him, taking away some of the work.

  She closed her eyes and moaned as her arousal rose to a fevered pitch once again. She’d come just one minute ago, and already she was close again. It felt so amazing. Nothing like it. Even better perhaps from on top than it had been underneath him that morning.

  Carter slid one hand around to her front and found her clit, rubbing it hard while she continued to stoke the fire. How he managed to keep up with her, she had no idea, but it didn’t take long for her to reach the edge.

  Her mouth fell open, her breath caught in her throat.

  “Come for me, baby. Show me how good it is.”

  Her pussy gripped his cock, milking him with so much force it had to hurt. But he didn’t look like he was in pain when she was finally able to focus on his face. Pure bliss. His eyes were on her, but unseeing. His nostrils flared with desire. His lips were pursed. And then he thrust his hips up into her, gripped her tight, and stopped her from rising again.

  She swore she could feel the pulse of his orgasm against her cervix.

  Heaven. Pure heaven.

  It was still early when Brooke reached for her cell phone on the bedside table to see what time it was. Her phone was an older version and simple. She’d never used it very often in the past.

  But today, for the first time in her life, there were numerous texts she’d missed the day before. Several were from David Rollings, the man she now knew was her father. A few were from his parents and her maternal grandmother too.

  Overwhelmed with emotion, she read every text several times before closing the phone and holding it to her chest as if it were a pile of letters saved for years. In a sense, it represented exactly that.

  “You okay, baby?” Carter’s gravelly voice drew her attention, and she tipped her head his direction to find him frowning at her where he lay only inches away.

  “Yeah. I think I am.” She smiled.

  His brow furrowed. “That sounds serious.”

  “It is.”

  He pushed up onto his elbow to look down at her face where she lay on her back. “You want to talk about it?”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat before she spoke words she knew would hurt him. “I need to go to West Palm Beach.”

  “Okay. That’s reasonable. Let’s shower and eat breakfast and go for the day, yeah?”

  She turned to face him more fully. “No. I need to go alone. I need to spend some time there.” She reached for his face with one hand, cupping his cheek. “I need to stay. Alone. Get to know my family. Find out who I am.”

  He didn’t move. His expression was too difficult to read. Slowly, his head dipped, and he settled back onto his side, his chin on her shoulder. “I was hoping to walk this path with you, help you through the process.”

  A tear slid from the corner of her eye. She was hurting him, but it couldn’t be helped. She grasped his hand with hers and squeezed. “I know, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I do. But this is something I need to do on my own. I need to find myself, figure out who Brooke is. I need to explore and think and grow and learn and so many things. Please. This is hard for me. Don’t make it harder. Don’t make me feel guilty about taking the time to do this.”

  He drew her fingers to his lips and kissed her knuckles. He wasn’t even angry. It would almost be easier if he argued with her or stomped away or even forced her to submit to him and ordered her to stay.

  It would be easier if he whipped her so hard tha
t he drew blood. But he wouldn’t do any of those things, and she knew with sudden clarity that she had to leave him.

  There was no guarantee he would wait for her. Nor was there any guarantee she would be right for him when she found herself. But she had to do this. She couldn’t be with him until she knew who she was…alone.

  Every person who texted her had offered her a place to stay. She would go to West Palm Beach and figure things out. Think. Clear her mind. It was the right thing to do.

  After several minutes of silence, Carter hauled her to his chest and kissed her forehead before he met her gaze dead-on. “You’re mine, baby. I know you have to do this. And I totally understand, but I need you to get that you’re mine. When you’re done finding yourself and getting to know your family, I’ll be here. Waiting.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that, Carter,” she choked out.

  “You didn’t ask. It’s just a fact. Time and distance won’t change things between us.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  “No, baby, thank you. Thank you for taking a chance on me. Thank you for coming home with me that night instead of stubbornly sleeping in your car. Thank you for submitting to me so beautifully. Thank you for being the exact kind of woman I know fits so perfectly in my life that my soul is calm. I will be here for you. Anytime you need me, you call. If you want to talk, call. Text. Email. If you want me to come visit, just say the word. I won’t bug you. I’ll give you all the space you need. But Brooke?”

  She licked her lips. “Yes.”

  “Come back to me, baby.”

  She said nothing, unable to commit to that demand as much as she wished she could. Luckily, he didn’t ask for a response. He pulled her face into his chest and held her tight. His chin was on the top of her head, but she would swear he whispered because I love you.

  He finally let her go, and they said very little while she packed up most of her things in her car, stacking a few unnecessary boxes in the corner of his guest room. He insisted. Perhaps it gave him some peace of mind thinking that if she left some things, she would have to return.