In the Den (6 page)

He waited.

She drank in his silent strength. He stood with his denim-clad legs slightly apart. The leather on his boots was well-worn, and his belt looked supple, as if it were an old friend. He wore a short-sleeved, dark T-shirt that showed off his biceps. His muscular build was so damn sexy.

Sometimes he pulled back his longish hair and secured it, but tonight it was untamed, curling well below his nape.

She’d always thought of him as elegantly rough, but tonight, she saw a different side of him, patiently resolved.

After a full thirty seconds during which he said nothing, she answered, “You asked me to kneel to ease my nerves.”

“You’re a quick study.” He captured that stray lock of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “You were nervous. I wasn’t expecting that, so I changed my approach. The longer I allowed you to think about things, the more you’d be tempted to run. But you needed time to get comfortable with me as well as yourself and the dynamic of your new role. I don’t want you to overthink the moment. But there’s more. I like to look at you. And yes, if you can relax enough to think about what I want and transcend your conflicting thoughts, you complying with my requests can bring us both pleasure.”

He hadn’t yet touched her in anything other than a casual way. There was no doubt he was earning her trust.

“When you’re ready, I’d like you to sit on the peninsula.” He pointed to the expanse of quartz with the barstools beneath it.

His request shocked her. Since he didn’t appear to be joking, she rose and walked the short distance, aware of his gaze on her rear end.

She put her arms behind her and leveraged herself into position. Suddenly she wished she’d taken a gulp of her wine while she’d had the chance.

“You look more spectacular than I’d imagined.”

“You thought this up in advance?” she asked, crossing her legs.

“Oh, yes.”

“You’re a wicked man.”

“You have no idea, Milady. Please lie back and uncross your legs.”

Catrina wrinkled her nose. “Are you planning what I think you’re planning?”

“I hope so.”

“I’m not sure about this.”

“You can always refuse,” he reminded her.

“No way.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

“Don’t gloat.”

“Never, Milady.”

Milady again. From him, it sounded more affectionate than a term of respect. But she didn’t mind.

“You may be more comfortable if you remove that contraption from your hair.”

She reached up, but halted when he asked, “May I?”

“Thank you.”

He pulled out the chopstick and her hair tumbled around her shoulders and down her back. “Doesn’t matter which way you wear it,” he said, “it’s fabulous.” He smoothed it to one side. “Now let’s get on with it.”

The quartz slab beneath her bare body was firm and cool, a startling contrast to the heat chasing through her.

“This is your reward for honoring my request not to touch yourself. Though I might have enjoyed the idea of you sucking your juices from your fingers.” He moved between her legs and parted her labia.

Though she squirmed, he didn’t reprimand her. Nor did he command her to remain still.

When he placed his thumb against her clit, she lifted her hips scandalously.

“That’s it,” he said.

She wished she could see his expression, but he bent to lick her from back to front.

The pressure of his tongue nearly undid her. She cried out, already on the verge of climaxing.

“Come whenever you want.”

It hadn’t occurred to her that he might make her delay her orgasm. She oftentimes compelled her subs to wait, and Damien’s words brutally reinforced the fact that, in coming here, she had ceded a certain amount of control to him.

All those thoughts vanished when he slid a finger inside her.

Desperately she dug her heels into cabinets beneath her as she tried to lift her hips even higher.

Her insides tightened and her juices flowed.

The combination of the way he simultaneously finger-fucked and ate her proved to be her undoing. “Damien!” She reached for his head and buried her hands in his hair.

In response to her urgings, he inserted a second finger inside her. She tried to sit up, or get away, anything.

He was wonderful and unyielding, licking her pussy, moving his fingers. This was a hell of a reward. She suddenly understood why Susan had looked at him with such awe. When you were the focus of Master Damien Lowell’s attentions, you felt it. It was as if the rest of the world had been shut out.

She called out his name again as she tightened all her muscles in anticipation. Blood rushed in her ears.

This was…

Her thoughts fractured and she could no longer think.

An orgasm washed over her, its engulfing energy more potent than anything she’d ever experienced. Desperately gripping his hair, she screamed.

But Damien didn’t stop.

“More,” he said, his breath on her heated flesh.

“I… I can’t.” She meant it. The first had taken so much out of her, and she needed time to recover. That hadn’t been a polite little climax—it had taken all she had. If he kept this up, she would just be uncomfortable.

“Stop fighting me.” He flicked his tongue back and forth across her clit, faster and faster, ignoring her gasping protests.

Impossibly, a second orgasm began to churn inside her. She knew she wouldn’t be able to find relief, but she couldn’t force her mouth to work long enough to say anything other than his name.

He stretched her wider, overwhelming her. Then he reached up, twisted and squeezed one of her nipples.

The added sensation was enough, and she froze, unable to breathe.

He continued his relentless sensual assault, making her writhe from the exquisite combination of sensations, both pleasure and pain, until she spiraled into an abyss.

Time blurred.

She had no idea how long she lay there, but slowly she became aware that he’d removed his fingers and had stopped tormenting her clit.

When she opened her eyes, she saw him standing there, broad, tall, steady. He was fully dressed and she was splayed open before him, her labia swollen and exposed. Embarrassment made her lick her lips.

He helped her to sit up, then he removed his shirt.

She blinked. Did he want to fuck her on the countertop? “You can’t be serious.”

“I assure you I am.” But one of those deadly smiles played at the corners of his mouth.

Surprising her, he put his shirt on her then untucked her hair. The black T-shirt enveloped her, and she snuggled into its warmth. The cotton was stamped by his scent, that of prestige and power, and she inhaled it deeply. She wouldn’t tell him, but she had no intention of returning the garment to him.

“I need to keep you warm. I always take care of what’s mine.”

“I’m not yours,” she protested.

“For now, you are. Get used to it. Warmer?”

“Thanks, yes.”

His rugged handsomeness stole her breath. She’d wondered what he looked like, but the first glance of his bare chest exceeded her expectations. A smattering of hair arrowed downwards to disappear beneath the waistband of his jeans. She was tantalized, aching to touch him.

He eased her down to the floor and held her close.

Looking up at him, she said, “I suppose I should take care of you now. Give you a blowjob or something.”

“I’m not done with you yet.”

“Oh. Right. You need to tie me up before you fuck me or something equally diabolical.”

“You can relax. I don’t typically beat women until the second date.” He snagged both glasses of wine.

Curious, she followed him into the living room and joined him on the couch that faced the fireplace. She tucked her legs beneath her and accepted the merlot. “This is an odd dungeon,” she said.

“Building your anticipation.”

“Uh, I’m good with never seeing it.” Until tonight, she’d had no idea he had a sense of humor. That made her appreciate him all the more. “But I am puzzled as to what we’re doing.” What hot-blooded man wouldn’t want to screw immediately after licking her cunt?

He faced her. “Talking.”

“Talking?” With her being so exposed and his bare chest?

“That’s the most important part of submission. The physical connection matters, but I’m considerably more interested in your brain than anything else.”

“I’m not sure if you’re being serious here.”

“Very much. When you fully offer yourself to me, it will mean you’ve shared your emotions, your fears, vulnerabilities. Everything.”

She laughed. “Good luck with that. That’s what I have my girlfriends for. I don’t do that with men.”

“You prefer they keep their place, under your foot?”

“That sounds harsh.”

“But true?”

She took a sip of her wine and allowed her hair to fall forward to hide her expression. As he had earlier, Damien brushed back the strands.

“I’d prefer you look at me when we talk.”

She met his gaze and wished his eyes weren’t that shocking shade of blue. He seemed to see into her, as if intent on prying out all her secrets. Despite the room’s warmth, she shivered.

“When did you become a Domme? After a bad relationship?”

“So you became a Dom after a woman challenged you? You had to become a big, bad alpha male to prove something?”

Maddeningly, he kept his calm.

“I’ve always been a Dom,” he responded, his voice as easy and well-modulated as it had been all evening. “There wasn’t a moment or an event. It’s not the same for you.”

“What makes you all-knowing, all-seeing?” She scooted away from him. To his credit, he let her go.

“Because of the way you snapped at me just now.”

“I didn’t.”

“I touched a nerve, Milady. I can live with that. In fact, I was hoping to do it. I meant it when I told you I want to know everything you’ve never shown anyone else.”

“I was engaged,” she said. “Until Joseph cleaned out the account we’d opened together.” She tipped back her head. “We were saving for the wedding and for a house. Before he left, he maxed out my credit cards as well. And the worst thing about it…”

“Go on.”

Damien hadn’t tried to placate her or comfort her. He was simply listening.

“I freaking knew better,” she finished. “Dad vanished before I was born, and my mother struggled her entire life, working two jobs to support us. I should have learnt from her, but I didn’t. I fell in love and was goo-goo starry-eyed.” She slid her glass onto the coffee table. “Once was enough.”

“It seems like a leap from a guy being a dick to you being a Domme.”

“I decided I would be in charge of my life, make my own decisions after that. I wanted to be equal in every way.” Todd’s words, though, haunted her. Had she bypassed equal and gone for control freak?

“All of your relationships have been casual since then?”

When she looked at him, he shrugged and added, “You’ve been coming to the Den for several years. I’ve rarely see you with the same sub.”

“You’re observant. There was one fairly serious relationship after my engagement ended,” she confessed. “I…” She hesitated, choosing her words. “Todd was a nice guy, but boring, and so was the sex. So I took charge, and he took exception. Then I was at a party one day. My friend Joann had one too many margaritas and was entertaining everyone with the story. One of the guys there offered to kiss my feet. We all had a great laugh about it, but it turned out he’d meant it. He was a submissive, and he helped me explore my role. I took to it rather naturally.”

“And now you want to accept my invitation to explore the dynamic from the other side.”

“For one night. That’s what we agreed.” She said no more. He didn’t need to know that after she’d left him, she’d been restless and filled with angst.

While she remained firm that she didn’t want to trust a man again, she rationalized that she was simply playing with Damien. It didn’t have to lead to anything serious. She was a grownup. They both knew the score. Why not have some fun?

“You’re intrigued.”

“Yes.”

“Any other reason?”

She shook her head.

“How do you deal with one of your subs lying to you?”

Goosebumps chased up her arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s a general question.”

“My subs don’t lie to me.”

“Of course not. Your relationships aren’t deep enough for that.”

She opened her mouth to protest but closed it again. “That’s a little unfair.”

“Theoretically, then,” he said. “What would you do?”

The conversation was making her squirm. “I don’t know. Give him a spanking, maybe. Orgasm denial. Maybe a chastity device for a while.” She grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest. “What’s your approach?”

“First thing, I would try to find out the reason. Is she being a brat and hoping to get in trouble? Some subs crave a punishment as a way to feel cherished. Or is my beautiful sub scared? Maybe trying to protect her emotions? Has she been dishonest with herself for so long that she can no longer recognize the truth?”

He couldn’t be talking to her, about her… Being with Damien was far scarier to her emotional health than she’d imagined.

“More than anything, I’d hope to establish the kind of relationship where my sub instinctively comes to me with issues and challenges. I’d want her to know I’d be there for her, that I was a rock in her life, someone she could turn to, no matter the crisis. After we figured out what was going on in a particular instance, I’d warn her that neither lies nor prevarication would be tolerated on that issue again, and we’d agree upon a punishment for any future infractions. I believe forthrightness is vital to a successful relationship.”

“That’s a nice hypothetical, Damien. You can have a scene with someone without having a relationship. You did with Susan last night.”

“Agreed. But I see them as two different things. As a Domme, if you understand the complexities, you can make a scene richer, deeper, more compelling for your partner.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“But you weren’t entirely truthful with me earlier.” He held up a hand when she started to protest. “Before we have an argument, let me tell you this. As I told you last night, when you’re avoiding a question, you look down and to the left. If you have no need to protect yourself, you look me in the eye.”