by Livia Grant
“In some ways, it wouldn’t be terribly different from tonight. I’d like our closest friends to be there to share the moment with us. I would never allow anyone else, including Derek or Markus, to touch you sexually, so you wouldn’t need to worry about that, but I have always wanted to consummate the bond in front of our witnesses as they did.”
“You mean you want us to have sex in front of our friends?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
His stare was intense. “I guess the question is, would you agree to that?”
She felt conflicted. She was a voyeur, not an exhibitionist. “Why is it important?”
He looked surprised at her candid question. “I’m not entirely sure. The first thing that comes to mind is that I’d want to show you off, and make sure everyone acknowledges my stake on you. I know it will take you out of your comfort zone, but that’s part of what I like about the idea.” Uncertainty rolled off him.
“I can tell you’re holding back.”
His smile was indulgent. “I forget you can read me. I admit it. Most of the time I don’t feel like we’re in a D/s relationship, Tiff. At least, not one I’m used to. I’ve never been with a woman who challenges me like you do. A woman I let challenge me like you do.” He paused to reflect. “I guess part of me needs to know you can and will submit to me, baby. Submit to something outside your comfort zone simply because I ask it of you. You remind me daily that’s not the kind of relationship we have, at least not yet.”
Her breath caught. She wanted to argue that she’d been the perfect sub, but she knew he was right. She’d pushed him at every turn—tested him. So far, he’d always backed down at the first sign of her shaky line in the sand.
Lukus’s stare bore into her as if he could read her racing mind. She shut her eyes to stay focused. To her relief, he didn’t rush her.
When she opened her eyes several moments later, he was waiting patiently. “Penny for your thoughts.”
“No worries. I’ll give my thoughts for free. I owe you an apology, Lukus.”
That had his attention. She kept going before he could interrupt her. “You’re right. I don’t think I’ve been doing it on purpose, but I can see how you’ve had to bend a lot more for our relationship than I have. You’ve given up doing all of the shows at your dream club. You’ve come out to my house way more than half the time. You let me sass you without turning me over your knee ten times a day. There are so many things you’ve done to avoid freaking me out, and I really do appreciate it.”
His smile was forgiving. “I’m just trying to ease you into the lifestyle, and show you I’m nothing like Jake. I liked your analogy of us each trying not to pull on the tug-of-war rope too hard.”
Tiffany was surprised with the first thought that crossed her mind. Dare she say it?
“Well, I do appreciate it, but…”
Just say it. You know you want to, Tiff.’
He was waiting. He was vigilant.
“But… well, I’m feeling a lot better, and if you want to—or need to… well, you know.”
His damn smug grin was alarming. “No, I’m afraid I don’t know. Explain it.”
“Jerk. You know what I’m…” She stopped mid-sentence at his scowl.
I must be brain dead. I seriously need to stop calling him a jerk.
“Be careful. You’re already at fifty-five spanks for tonight. Add ten more for ‘jerk’ and another ten just because I can.”
“Wait!”
He was serious again. “I’ve been waiting patiently, Tiff. You refuse to sign a club contract. Fine. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have to figure out the boundaries of our relationship. Vanillas don’t have this problem, but I want more. I think you want more. Tonight’s game. Taking you to shows. It’s all helping, but in the end, you need to ask me. The next step has to come from you.”
It was getting real. The moment felt important. Instead of panicking, a welcome sense of calm settled over Tiffany.
“How could you know what I’m going to say?” she asked quietly.
“Baby, I’m a Dom. I want to be your Dom. I’m not always going to ask you what you want. In fact, let’s be clear. Sexually, I’ll almost never ask. I shouldn’t have to. I’ve been doing everything I can to understand your limits, but we’ve gone as far as we can without…” His voice trailed off. She was surprised to see vulnerability as he waited for her next words.
“I get it. You need my boundaries. Well, for starters, branding is a hard limit for me. Come near me with a hot poker and I’ll stick it up your ass. Sir.”
To her relief, he was laughing with her. “Well, duh. I didn’t need that one spelled out for me.”
With great clarity, Tiffany knew in that moment that she was helplessly in love with the incredible man holding her. She hated how needy that realization made her feel, but the thought of walking away from what they’d started seemed impossible. More importantly, she knew she’d never be happy with a watered-down version of the extraordinary man.
Their faces were inches apart as they continued their stare down. Tiff got light-headed from her shallow breathing. In spite of all she’d seen tonight, or maybe because of it, she knew what she needed to say; what he needed to hear. They were the words that would take their relationship to a deeper level.
“Lukus… Sir. I trust you. Will you please be my Dom, not just while we are playing, but, well…”
It seemed Lukus had been holding his breath too, as he released it in a big whoosh. Still, he looked so serious.
“Tiffany, I would love nothing more than to be your Dom, but let’s level set. What I need to hear from you is if you consent to obey me in all things. Not just in the bedroom. Not just for one day —one scene—at a time, but until such time as you remove your consent completely. I don’t want to keep asking you to trust me every day—there won’t be constant reminders that you’re the one in control or that you can just say no if you get spooked. I need to hear that you’ll submit to me; my commands, my discipline. That you’ll let me protect you, cherish you.”
Her racing mind tried to rally a dissenting argument, but her body was melting. Her brain put up one final fight.
“Before I say yes, I need to know I do still get a safeword, right?” She was asking what she assumed was a rhetorical question. Of course, she got a safeword. Everyone knew BDSM relationships revolved around the sanctity of the safeword and consent. She understood that what he was asking for was carte blanche consent, without the need to check in with her constantly as he had been. That was fine, but she still needed to know she had an emergency stop button.
So why didn’t Lukus answer her? He simply stared into her eyes, their silence getting more strained by the moment. When he spoke, it was with authority.
“Yes, you will always have a safeword, but here’s the thing. When we’re playing, using your safeword is fine, although I honestly will feel it’s a personal failure on my part if I miss picking up your cues that you were in distress and wanted the play to stop. Regardless, I expect you to use either ‘yellow/red’ or ‘snowball’ during play.”
Lukus hesitated dramatically before finishing his thoughts on the subject. “But I’m asking to be more than your Dom, Tiff. This isn’t just some sexual scene to me. I want to play a more important role I’ve never played before. We may not live together—yet—but I’d be honored if you’d consider me the head of your household—your HoH. I’d set important rules for our relationship, your safety… our lives together. Rules that may or may not have anything to do with sex. I’m greedy. I want all of you. To know you’ll submit to me as your HoH, and as such, when you do things that break rules I’ve set, there will be consequences… and simply safewording will not get you out of those consequences.”
Her pulse was racing faster with each sentence he spoke. “Wait. So, if I safeword when you’re spanking me, you aren’t going to stop?” Her voice quavered, sure she was misunderstanding.
“Not
if it’s a punishment spanking. Fun spankings, sure.”
“But what if it hurts too much?” she squeaked.
“Baby, punishments are supposed to hurt too much. Let me be clear. Every single true punishment you receive from me, you will be begging for me to stop before I do. Every single one will make you cry. Every single one will be something you’re going to hate by the time it’s over. But know this. Every single one is going to hurt me, too. That may sound like a bunch of bullshit to you, but it’s the truth. I’ve punished hundreds of submissives here at The Pit, and I’ll be honest; I get off on it. But…” He looked nervous. “For the first time, I find myself dreading punishing a sub, because I swear to you, Tiff, I hate to hear you cry. I’m going to hate disciplining you.”
She was just about to ask him why he would do it, but then realized she didn’t need to. She knew why he’d punish her, because it was exactly the same reason she was going to say yes to his being her Dom. While her brain knew with a certainty, she would hate the pain of a true Lukus Mitchel punishment, it was her heart—and other body parts—making the important decision.
I’ve craved this kind of intimacy. I’ve waited my whole life to find a man who wouldn’t let me walk all over him. A trustworthy man strong enough to lead me, protect me, take care of me. My submission is part of the package.
His unwavering glare of domination had her wiggling in his lap. His promises of strict guidance and discipline in her life had her creaming her skimpy undies. Like it or not, the submissive undercurrent flowing through her at the basest level already recognized his authority over her and was reacting.
He broke their long silence. “What’s it going to be, Tiff? Do you accept me as not only your Dom, but your HoH as well?”
Tiffany paused, unable to neglect a final objection on repeat in her brain. “On one condition.”
“Always the negotiator.” The corners of his mouth twitched up as he tried not to smile.
“Negotiator is too strong of a word. How about compromiser?”
“Most BDSM relationships aren’t high on the compromising scale, baby,” he said.
“Maybe, but we just established ours is more than a BDSM relationship.”
“What’s your condition?”
“You’ll still listen to me, and not make me afraid to share my feelings or concerns. I get that you’ll have the final decision, but I don’t want to be afraid to speak my mind with you, Lukus.”
He paused, reflecting on her request before answering. “I like this request. Yes, as long as you bring things up respectfully and we talk through them together calmly, and then you agree to abide by my final decision, I’m happy to know how you feel.”
His agreement chased away her final objection of the moment, allowing her to start sinking into the right frame of mind; a mindset she already knew she was going to struggle with some days. But not tonight. Tonight, submission was easy. After all she’d seen and heard, she was ready.
“Thank you, Sir. Thank you for being my Dom, both in and out of the bedroom.”
Lukus stood, lifting her in his arms and moving towards the bedroom. “Time for our celebratory fuck.”
His arms holding her tight made her feel safe and loved. He may have never used the word “love,” but he made her feel it, regardless.
“Yes, Sir.”
Chapter Sixteen
Markus
Markus woke slowly, luxuriating that it was Saturday and he didn’t have to go into the office this weekend. He was reaching to snuggle Brianna when he heard the shower turning off.
Sitting up quickly, he snapped open his eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight filtering through the crack in the drapes. Glancing at the ruffled spot in the bed where his wife should have been, he cursed.
“Damn it.”
Pushing to his feet, he crossed Lukus’s guest room to the en suite bathroom. Not bothering to knock, he let himself in just as Brianna stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped swami style around her long, soaked hair. Unfortunately, she’d wrapped a second towel around her sexy body, hiding all of his favorite parts he’d like to ogle this morning. Her face lit up with a million-dollar smile.
“Good morning, honey. I’m already running late. Tiff and I have an insane day at the salon today. We have a rush of prom appointments.”
Markus didn’t care if she was wet; he was determined to get his morning grope. “Damn, I was hoping to catch you in time for a morning quickie.”
She extricated herself to head to the long vanity, wiping steam from the mirror. “Sorry, but I should have left twenty minutes ago. I’m counting on no traffic this morning. Tiff better be ready. I texted to make sure she’s up and moving.”
He pulled her against his chest as they locked eyes in the foggy mirror.
“How’s your ass this morning?” He snaked a hand under her towel, massaging her naked butt. Her gasp was evidence she was still feeling the effects of their intense night.
Confident businesswoman Brianna took a backseat to her submissive persona. “My ass is properly tender this morning, Master.”
Music to his ears.
“I wish we had time for a personal inspection, but I wouldn’t want to make you late. You know what happens to subs who are late, don’t you?”
He saw the flash of desire in her brown eyes and knew it wouldn’t take much coercing to convince her to stay long enough for a quickie.
Patience, Lambert.
Releasing her, he plunked a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll let you off the hook this time. Get ready. I’ll hose off real quick. We can head out together in a few minutes.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Fifteen minutes later, Markus and Brianna left the guest room in search of Lukus and Tiffany. The friends had driven downtown together the night before and would drive to the salon together this morning, leaving Lukus time to bring Markus up to speed on any new developments in the Jake investigation. Things were moving too slow for Markus. He wanted the prick in jail. Today.
They arrived in the kitchen to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sight of an embracing couple. As Lukus glanced up, Markus could tell they’d interrupted a private conversation.
Brianna didn’t notice. She rushed to the coffee maker, reaching for one of the Styrofoam to-go cups, and started preparing her beverage.
“Oh, thank God you had time to make coffee. We’re so late. We don’t have time to stop at a drive-through. You ready, Tiff?”
Only Markus could see Tiffany’s face. She wanted no part of leaving. Now that he glanced at his best friend, Lukus didn’t look thrilled either. Neither spoke.
Brianna barged ahead once she had her coffee. Turning, she walked straight to her best friend, handing her a second to-go cup. “Here. I fixed it the way you like it. Say goodbye. We need to leave.”
Lukus kept his eyes on Tiff, but addressed Bri. “Back off, Brianna. Tiff will leave when I say she leaves, and not before.”
Brianna was about to argue back. Markus stepped in before she found herself in trouble with the Master’s Master. “Bri, let them say goodbye. I’ll walk you to the elevator.” When she opened her mouth to protest, Markus stopped her with a quiet, “Now.”
Tiffany and Lukus trailed behind. The two couples took time for a passionate goodbye kiss before the girls stepped into the elevator.
Markus tried to get the last word in. “Drive carefully. Text me when you get there.”
Markus’s sassy wife was about to reply, but Tiff touched her arm before answering for them. “No worries, Markus. I’ll text you when we get there.” She just got her answer in before the doors closed behind them.
The men stood planted in front of the closed elevator door after they left.
“Damn. I’ll see her again in ten hours and I still hate to see her go.” Markus heard the alarm in Lukus’s voice at the revelation of his growing dependency on his relationship.
Turning to walk back to the kitchen, Markus agreed. “I know what you mean. This wh
ole Jake thing has been one hell of a wake-up call. Looking back, I can see we’d fallen into dangerous routines like so many couples do after a few years of marriage. I’m determined not to let us take what we have for granted ever again.”
“I can’t picture it ever getting old or routine with Tiff. She challenges me every day. Fuck, every hour.”
Markus poured himself a cup of coffee and took a seat at the eat-in counter. Lukus did the same.
“So, what the hell is happening with the Jake investigation? Have you got a plan of attack yet?”
Lukus was frustrated. “I feel like I’m letting you down. I’ve had so many jobs come in, I haven’t been able to send Z out to California. I sent Dylan, Derek’s brother, but he’s just observing, and he’s green. Cameron spent a few hours digging up a few leads, but I need to get someone out there to help Dylan. I’d go myself, but—”
“I know. You aren’t capable of being away from Tiffany for more than a day.”
Lukus looked like he ate something sour. “God damn, I hate being weak, but there’s no getting around it. She’s like my drug. I’m addicted. No fucking way do I want to be gone for a week right now.”
“I get it, man. But you do have a lot of employees. Send someone else to help Dylan.”
“They’re all busy. I’ll have Derek fly out tomorrow after tonight’s shows. I’ll have to find someone else to lead the show tomorrow night.”
Markus saw temptation in Lukus’s expression. “Have you talked to her about it yet?”
Lukus didn’t ask him to expound. He knew what Markus meant. “No. I’m dreading it. I know I could play the Dom card, and just tell her that’s the way it’s gonna be. If I thought she would be angry, I might do it. But, if I tell Tiff I want to resume leading the shows, she’ll be hurt, and shit, I don’t want to hurt her.”
“I wish I could reassure you, but you’re right. She won’t understand it’s just business. At least, not yet.”
Lukus looked worried. “What if she never does?”