Resisting My Submission

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Resisting My Submission Page 11

by Jenna Jacob


  “I think she’d like that. I’m curious. When you played with her before, did you allow her to come?”

  Sneaky bastard. Exposing the parallel rewards we’d each given the sub mitigated my unwarranted jealousy. But the gotcha tone of his voice and flicker of triumph dancing in his eyes was a bit over the top. I instantly realized the reason my green-eyed monster had crawled out of the box was because I’d watched his scene as a woman and not as a Domme.

  “I have, numerous times.”

  “I hope I’m there to watch you next time. You’ve a dynamic Domme style.”

  “Thank you. I think you’re damn intense yourself.”

  He acknowledged my compliment with a smile as we pulled up to the restaurant. We were seated at a cozy table where muted sounds from the bar mingled with the soft music piped in on overhead speakers. Tossing aside our Dominant dynamic, Max and I laughed and talked as we sipped glasses of Pinot Noir and devoured our succulent steak dinner.

  He told me about his childhood, how he grew up on a ranch in South Dakota. I had a hard time picturing Max as a cowboy. He seemed more the motorcycle type. He had bad boy written all over him. I told him about growing up in New Orleans. How I’d been an only child raised by two loving parents. I even told him about my dad’s passing from a cerebral embolism just six months after nine-eleven. Over a decadent dessert of crème brûlée, I explained how Desmond’s job with a financial conglomerate led us to New Jersey. While I skirted the BDSM aspects of our marriage, I revealed how I’d ended up in Chicago and about the success and subsequent failure of my clothing boutique.

  “Beauty, brains, and an entrepreneurial spirit. You’re an impressive woman, Sam.” Max raised his glass in a toast.

  I blushed and lifted mine. After clinking our goblets together, we each took a drink. I was more relaxed than I’d been in years, and the hours slid by as we discussed nearly every topic under the sun. It was only when I glanced over my shoulder that I discovered we were the only patrons left in the restaurant.

  “I guess we should leave so the employees can close, clean up, and go home,” I stated.

  “Probably not a bad idea, though I’m certainly not ready for our date to end. How about you?”

  I wasn’t ready to call it a night, either. Mellowed by the wine, I wanted to invite him back to my place and fuck like bunnies. The thought had my clit cheering in a needy throb.

  “What did you have in mind?” I asked coyly.

  “I have an idea.” His mischievous smile told me he was already reading my mind. Or at least I hoped so.

  But Max surprised me. Instead of driving us back to my place, he headed toward the North Shore district. I knew the area well. Mika and Julianna lived close. Max pulled onto West North Shore Boulevard and found a place to park. He took my hand, and the warm summer air blew across my skin as we walked toward the sand. With a purely romantic glint, the moon reflected off the water of Lake Michigan.

  We walked the shore for what felt like miles, talking and laughing about nothing and everything. Max paused from time to time, brushing his lips to mine with a passionate tenderness that filled me with nervous excitement.

  “So, now that you’re officially retired, are you going to turn into a club bum and hang out at Genesis every night, or are you going to find a respectable job?” I teased.

  Max laughed. His low, rich tenor blanketed my body like warm cotton. “What job is more respectable than a Dominant, unless, of course, it’s submission?”

  “No. I meant something outside the club, like a stockbroker or a lion tamer.”

  “A lion tamer?” He barked with a laugh. “If you want me to leave you alone, I will. You don’t have to plot my death by vicious animal attack.”

  I swatted his arm. “I didn’t mean it like that. If I wanted you to leave me alone, I’d damn well tell you. You’re just twisting and bending my words like you always do.”

  Max stopped and spun me in front of him. The lake winds whipped my hair across my face. He reached up and tucked the errant strands behind my ear as he leaned in close. “The only thing I want to bend is you over that picnic table. Then I’d twist you up until you were hot and wild and make you shatter all over my cock.”

  My mouth went dry. I briefly darted my attention to the wooden table a few feet away. Images of Max driving deep and hard inside me crested like a tidal wave in my head. A slash of fire zipped down my spine and licked the nub between my legs. Whether it was a smart move or not, I knew I was going to fuck him again. Any plans of distancing myself from Max vanished like a boat in the Bermuda Triangle. This time I took his hand as we all but ran back to Dylan’s car. Neither of us said a word. We didn’t have to. A sexual chemistry arced and streaked between us like firework trails in a night sky. Once we were inside the car and making our way back to my place, Max reached out and placed his hand on my thigh.

  “Will you do me one favor tonight?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t take the cloth from me.”

  My knee-jerk reaction to seize his need to have the upper hand gripped me hard. Instead of arbitrarily shutting him down, I waited for my impulsive storm to pass. It didn’t. I broke out in a cold sweat. Empty seconds ticked by as I wrangled my chaotic fear of handing over my control.

  As usual, Max read all he needed to in my silence. Threading his fingers through mine, he gave my hand a squeeze. “It’s not what you think. I only want to pamper you. Nothing more…nothing less.”

  His logic sounded reasonable, but the suspect part of my brain warned this was but the first of many concessions to come. If I allowed him to wheedle a little here and there, before I knew it, Max would hold all the power.

  Good god. He doesn’t want to chain you to a spanking bench, simply clean your cooch! Lower your damn drawbridge and relax like you have been with him all night.

  The little voice within smacked me upside the head with a two-by-four, or so it felt. The night had been fabulous. We’d shucked our individual cloaks of Dominance, thrown conformance and protocol to the wind. It had been a relaxing, carefree, and easy breath of fresh air. So what possessed me to try and paint the canvas of our picture-perfect evening in dark and distorted colors?

  Your fears.

  But fear wasn’t a good enough reason to sabotage my night with Max.

  “I’ll try and keep my angst in check.”

  “I don’t want you keeping any parts of you in check,” Max stated matter-of-factly. “I want you untamed and wild, not gauging every touch of mine on some scale of Dominance or submission. I’d rather you be mindless as I wring all the orgasms I can out of you.”

  A tremor slid south and my pussy clutched. I crossed my legs to quell the ache. Max gave me a sideways glance and grinned.

  Yeah, and the big, bad wolf wanted the little pig to let him in. All bacon-boy got out of the deal was a house blown to smithereens.

  Still, sitting on the damn fence post was getting me nowhere. If I hadn’t flunked the balance beam in high school, I’d sail across that narrow rail and ignore the quicksand below. I needed to stop letting fear rule me…hike up my big-girl thong, and enjoy the time I had with Max until it all came to a screeching halt.

  “Thank you.” I squeezed his hand back. “I like it when you’re honest with me.”

  “You’re welcome. How about sharing some honesty with me then, Sam. You already know we’re like a match to gasoline in bed…explosive in all the right ways. I’m not going to ask you to kneel before me until you’re—”

  “Stop right there! In one breath, you tell me you won’t try to control me, but in the next, you assume that one day I’m going to just hand it over to you. That’s what freaks me out. I’m on pins and needles waiting for you to slip up and try to take me to my knees.”

  The muscles of his arms bunched as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. There was a long, pregnant pause before Max pulled the car to the curb. He shoved it in park, then turned and pinned me with an angry stare.

 
“If you won’t even try to trust me, what the fuck are we doing, Sam?”

  “I have no idea.” I tossed my hands in the air in frustration. “Yes, we’re combustible in bed, but that’s hardly a reason for me to hand over my trust to you like a damn sub.”

  He gaped at me as if I were from Jupiter. “Usually when two people are in a sexual relationship, they have a basic level of trust between them. You’re grasping at straws because you’re scared to let that damn sub inside you see the light of day.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I stared at him, speechless. He’d nailed the hammer on the head so vehemently I didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t anything I could say that wasn’t a lie. Yes, I was afraid of Samantha, afraid she was going to leak out from inside me and destroy me.

  Without another word, Max pulled from the curb.

  “What makes you so certain she even wants to come out?” I asked quietly.

  “I doubt you really want me to answer that.”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want the truth.”

  “Fair enough.” Max nodded. “The second you opened the door to the club, I saw a sub. Even when you introduced yourself as Mistress Sammie, my gut screamed bullshit. Even when I watched you work Eli—which was stunning, by the way—you still possessed the heart of a sub…a sub yearning to be free.”

  “You see me as weak?”

  Max scoffed. “Show me a unicorn, and I’ll show you a weak submissive.”

  “I meant a weak Domme.”

  His lips flattened in a tight line. “When you decide you’re ready to listen to what I’m trying to say, we’ll finish this discussion.”

  Bam! Max had brought his big, bad Dominant hammer down.

  Miffed, I turned and stared out the passenger window. The silence was uncomfortable. I’d disappointed him. Guilt slowly sluiced through my veins. Memories of failing Desmond crept through me and woke feelings of remorse and shame from a deep slumber. I wanted to crawl out of my skin.

  Suddenly my mind tripped back to my initial interview with Mika when I’d first joined Genesis. I’d told him about my years as Desmond’s slave and how I’d lost my husband, Master, security, and submission in one fell swoop.

  “I can’t give up the lifestyle any more than I can cut off my own arm. I need to be among like-minded people who respect and find contentment in the power exchange. But I can’t join your club as a submissive.”

  “What are you asking for, Samantha?” Mika asked.

  “First, please call me Sammie. Samantha was my slave name. I’m not that girl anymore, and I never will be.”

  “Okay.” Mika nodded, a hint of skepticism flickering in his pretty eyes.

  “I’d like to ask you to recommend a Dom to mentor me. Someone who wouldn’t mind helping a woman find a way to fulfill the needs of the subs.”

  “How about me?” Mika offered.

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “Absolutely.” He smiled.

  Several months later, we’d sat in his office watching the scenes playing out in the dungeon. As part of Mika’s mentorship, I’d been working submissives for a couple of weeks. He’d commented on how I seemed comfortable in my new Domme skin. Then out of the blue, he’d turned with a look of worry.

  “What happens when a powerful and intuitive Dom crosses your path and discovers the sleeping slave within?”

  Slowly, I turned and stared at Max in disbelief.

  He was that powerful and intuitive Dom who’d discovered my sleeping slave.

  But Max had done far more than simply cross my path. He’d shown me a whole new road, one paved in compassion, understanding, and trust.

  He’d discovered my Achilles tendon, but instead of slicing the ligament in two—by sabotaging my status at the club—Max had opened his arms, ready and willing to protect both the Domme and submissive parts of me.

  As he pulled into the driveway, I softly whispered, “I’m sorry, and thank you.”

  He turned off the engine and looked my way. The anger melted from his eyes as a gentle smile inched over his lips. “For what?”

  “Sorry for being angry and confrontational. Grateful for all you’re doing to help me.”

  I unclasped the seat belt and all but crawled onto his lap. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him to my mouth and kissed him with apology, promise, and passion. When he kissed me back, I feared my heart might explode. Slowly, Max pulled away and toyed with the hair by my face.

  “Relax, Sam. Everything is going to turn out fine.”

  For once, a sense of surety and peace settled through me. I believed him. But more so, I finally understood he’d go to any lengths to protect all of me…the woman, slave, and Domme.

  I knew I could trust him.

  As we made our way inside, Max steered us straight toward the bedroom. Anticipation spiked as he whipped off his tee and tossed it to the floor. I peeled mine away, as well, before he palmed his powerful hands around my breasts and strummed my pebbled nipples.

  With practiced finesse, Max unfastened my bra with the flick of a finger and thumb. The lacy cups hadn’t even hit the floor when he latched his mouth onto my flesh, laving and scraping his teeth before suckling my aching nipple. Paying homage to the other, he burnished his thumb over its stony peak.

  With a moan, I palmed his nape and closed my eyes. Pulses of lightning flashed while thunder churned between my legs. In seconds I was wet, willing, and eager. Writhing and rolling my hips, I silently urged Max to hurry. He moved his mouth to my other breast, oblivious…or purposely postponing my escalating need.

  Impatience ruled.

  The impulse to take control burned like lava.

  I clutched his shoulders and rubbed my weeping pussy against his heated erection. Max let out a growl and sank his teeth into my flesh. Blissful pain flowed across my chest, past my belly, and settled in my already throbbing clit. I could feel my pussy swelling, growing plump and ready, while my breasts grew heavy and full. But inside, the battle of control and surrender still raged until I felt like a ripe plum, split down the middle.

  Max’s claim of walking on eggshells rolled to the front of my brain. I finally understood. I was ankle-deep in the fragile casings, unsure of how or where to step next.

  Slowly easing his mouth from my breast, Max stood and pressed his forehead to mine. “Turn off your brain, Sam.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Then let’s stop and figure—”

  “No! That’s the problem. I need…” I closed my eyes and exhaled a long, heavy sigh.

  “What, baby? Tell me what you need.”

  “I need you to fuck me.” My impatient tone and the cold, meaningless sound of the words made Max’s eyes widen briefly.

  “I want to do more than fuck you.” He frowned. “Right now, I’d like to take you over my knee and spank your ass red, then shove my cock into your tight cunt so you’ll stop thinking.”

  A part of me ached for that freedom, too. I didn’t want to think, only feel—to let go and put my whole being in the palms of his hands. But the fear of never wanting to crawl back out kept me clinging to my control. I had to let go, for his sake and mine.

  “No. Wait. Let’s start over. Can we?” I wanted a clean slate.

  “Okay.” The intensity of his gaze told me that Max was running out of patience. “How do you suggest we proceed?”

  “Can we both get naked and take it from there?”

  “All right.”

  He released the zipper of his jeans and quickly kicked them aside. I nearly forgot to remove my own as I gazed at his chiseled body and rigid cock. Seconds later we were both nude and staring at each other. An awkward uncertainty filled me. Instead of trying to seduce me, Max moved to the bed and sat down.

  “Sam,” he whispered. “Come over here and tell me what’s going on with you.”

  His benevolent understanding caused the dam holding back the flood of emotions inside me to weaken. Tears stung the backs of my eyes,
but I quickly blinked them away as I eased to the mattress beside him.

  “Eggshells,” I whispered as I quickly rubbed my eyes.

  “Yeah. Prickly suckers, aren’t they?”

  “Awful,” I grumbled.

  He lifted my chin with his fingers, forcing my gaze, but I stalled on his smiling face. What the hell was he happy about? I didn’t find this predicament the least bit funny.

  “When I’m with you, I tuck my control away. It’s not easy, but I have to shift into a vanilla mindset in order to keep the Dom in me at bay.”

  Vanilla mindset.

  That was it! Instead of worrying about what I’d have to give up and preparing myself for a pissing match with Max, I should have been working out a vanilla peace treaty in my head. Having sex with him—even though he was a Dom—shouldn’t be any different than the sex I’d had with Scotty. Dammit! Why hadn’t I realized this sooner?

  Maybe because were too busy letting the Dom dynamic paralyze the logical parts of your brain?

  The churning clouds within me parted. Not only could I see a ray of sunshine but I could also breathe again.

  “Good grief! I get it now. Finally!” I mumbled.

  “Get what?”

  “The vanilla mindset,” I explained. “We just have to get it on like a regular old vanilla couple.”

  “We’re not that old,” Max chuckled softly.

  “No. You know what I mean.”

  “Yes, and remember, you did just fine the other night.”

  “I did, didn’t I?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he murmured in a low, sensual rumble.

  Max pulled me into his arms and kissed me senseless. Like an eagle taking flight, freedom filled me, and I soared with renewed hope. Our tongues tangled. Our hands fondled and caressed hot, naked flesh. That urgent and demanding hunger had returned. I couldn’t slake it fast enough.

  I gripped his cock and gently stroked him from base to tip. Max nibbled and nipped my lips while his talented fingers toyed with my pussy. Peeling my mouth from his, I trailed my kisses along the ridge of his jaw and down his neck. His flesh was hot and salty. Max moved with me. His arms flexed and bunched as his busy fingers drove in and out of my slippery core. Moaning, I paused at his pecs to swirl and flick my tongue over his dark nipple. He sucked in a hiss before exhaling a curse. Triumph filled me and I smiled against his steely flesh.

 

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