Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Nothing rattled Damien.
He owned half a dozen businesses and executed transactions in a handful of different time zones. Others came to him to solve their problems.
So why the hell was he wearing a path in the living room’s hardwood floor?
Annoyed with himself, he checked his watch. Until this moment, he’d had no doubt Catrina would show up.
He’d expected her to be a few minutes late, but twenty?
Half an hour ago, he’d flipped the switch to ignite the fireplace, bumped the house temperature a couple of degrees, turned on the porch and path lights.
Afterward, instead of staring out of the window, he’d forced himself to return to his study to finish up an email to a potential client in Hong Kong. That had taken all of three minutes.
He’d flipped the lid closed on his notebook computer then tried to settle on the couch.
Once Catrina had left the Den last night, he’d been restless.
For the first time since his divorce almost a decade before, Damien had noticed how large his suite was, how big and empty his house was.
He’d ached to hold Catrina in his arms.
Not just any woman. Catrina, specifically.
There was something about her scent, the way she fought him, the way her eyes—the color of ground emeralds—glittered when she challenged him. And more, it was the way she tried to hide her vulnerabilities.
This morning, Gregorio had joined him for coffee and breakfast, and the two had spent hours in meetings.
But Damien had been distracted by thoughts of the lovely Domme.
Over the years, he’d interacted with so many subs that he’d become jaded.
If it weren’t for demonstrations, he might never scene.
Which was why his attraction to Catrina intrigued him.
At the Den, he’d been aware of her scrutiny as he’d interacted with Susan.
When Catrina had vanished from the room before the presentation had ended, he’d suspected she’d been turned on by what she’d witnessed. The dampness of her pussy had confirmed his suspicions. She’d been aroused, even though she hadn’t wanted to be.
Ever since, he’d been tormented by thoughts of her, recalling her soft, feminine sounds of pleasure and pain. He wanted to hear more, wanted to feel her pussy clenching his cock, wanted to inhale the scent of her hair when the luxurious strands spilled across his chest.
Damien hadn’t been surprised when she’d ignored his text messages.
That she hadn’t told him to fuck off meant she was interested.
That she hadn’t replied at all meant she was conflicted.
During his drive back to Denver, he’d figured she’d show up at his home five to ten minutes late, making it clear she wouldn’t willingly fall at his feet. Fifteen forced him to question his tactics. Twenty had made him nervous.
Now, as it edged toward twenty-five, anxiety gnawed at his insides.
As an avowed bachelor, he was unbothered by relationship issues.
Or at least he hadn’t been until this dark-haired beauty had ensnared his attention.
At thirty-one minutes after the hour, the unmistakable beam of car headlights indicated a vehicle had turned into his cul-de-sac.
Fucking finally.
More relieved than he would admit, he exhaled before closing the blinds to ensure their privacy before exiting the house to meet her on the path.
With practiced patience, he folded his arms against the winter chill and waited for her even though she took her time turning off the car engine.
Slowly, she exited the SUV then hesitated for a moment when she saw him.
He inclined his head in greeting, though he wasn’t sure she would notice his expression across the distance.
She turned up the collar on her coat before grabbing her purse and flicking the car door closed. Purposefully, spine erect, she walked toward him.
A few feet away, she stopped.
“I’m glad you came.”
“I wasn’t sure I was going to.”
“Why did you?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. For once, her answer seemed honest. “Curiosity, maybe.”
“You’ve bruised my ego.”
She tipped her head to one side and seemed to be trying to hide a smile. “You were imagining I was so overcome by last night’s orgasm that I spent the last eighteen hours fantasizing about you?”
“A man can hope.”
“Dreamer.”
He moved a hand to his heart. “I fear that’s a mortal wound.”
“You’ll survive.”
He focused on the fact she had come, no matter her reasoning.
His next task was to convince her to stay. “Come inside.”
Though he didn’t need to, he tucked his hand beneath her elbow and guided her to the house, up the steps onto the porch, then he opened the door.
As she passed him, he caught a whiff of her just-showered scent, something tropical that reminded him of summer.
Her long, thick hair was piled atop her head, with some sort of butterfly-looking clip to hold it in place.
He closed the door behind them, locking out the elements and reality. “May I take your coat?”
After interminable seconds, she placed her purse on a nearby table.
He moved behind her to help her from the garment, then he hung it in the closet.
When he’d imagined her coming to his home, he hadn’t known what to expect. Would she dress as a fierce and fiery Domme? Or would she wear a skirt that invited him to touch her?
But, as he was starting to learn, this woman was not predictable.
Damien loved seeing her at the Den with her dramatic makeup, false eyelashes, and bright lipstick. But this…? Other than a light brush of mascara, her face was bare.
Black jeans rode low on her hips, and a form-fitting sweater showed off her slender waist and the curve of her breasts. Instead of stilettos, she’d selected boots with chunky heels and metal buckles. Tonight, she looked more like a biker chick than a Domme fatale.
She sure as hell didn’t look ready to submit.
Just how many facets were there to this woman? One thing was certain. He fucking itched to find out. “Something to drink?”
“Thanks, but no. I want an orgasm, and I’m here for it. Then I’m driving home.”
“You’re welcome to stay the night rather than go back out in the cold.”
“Do you have a guest room?”
He winced. “Any more blows to my ego lined up today?”
She smiled.
This time, it was genuine, not polite like the ones she bestowed at the Den.
In that moment, he wondered how much of herself she kept hidden.
The more he saw of her, the more he wanted to uncover.
“I’ll have something sparkling, non-alcoholic.”
“Mineral water?” he offered.
“With lime?”
“Coming right up.”
While he pulled out glasses and sliced a lime, she glanced around. “I like your home. Open concepts are wonderful.” She wandered to the sliding patio door.
She moved aside the blinds to look outside. “Is that Standley Lake out there?”
“It is.”
“I had no idea it was so big.”
“Plenty of water skiing in summer.”
“So you have a view of the mountains and the water?”
“Depending on the angle. And a covered patio,” he said. “It will be chilly, but we can have coffee out there in the morning. Bald eagles nest out here.”
She released the blinds and they swished into place as she turned to face him. A scowl was buried between her eyebrows. “I said I wasn’t staying.”
“Attempting to lead you into temptation.”
“Anything to win?”
“Fair means or foul,” he said, joining her and offering her one of the glasses.
Catrina shook her head. “You’re honest.”
“To a fault.” He skimmed a finger down her cheekbone. “I like to touch you,” he said. “Last night showed me how much.”
She captured his wrist.
“You like it, too. I can see your heart beating, right there…” He continued lower, tracing the column of her throat.
Her breath caught.
“And the rise and fall of your chest tells me you’re affected, too.” He spread his hand on her sweater, above her breasts.
Though Catrina was a tall woman, she barely reached his chin. He wanted to wrap her up and keep her safe from the things that scared her.
She moved his hand aside then put some distance between them. “Your place isn’t what I expected. I figured you more for an executive loft downtown.” She rested her hips against a countertop. “Oh, no. Wait. I was wrong. This suits you fine.”
“You’re talking fast, Catrina.” But he gave her the space she seemed to need. He pulled out a barstool and sat on it. She was here. For now, that was enough.
“You’ve got tons of privacy. Your subs can scream all they want without disturbing the neighbors. Why don’t you lead the way?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“To your dungeon? Didn’t you invite me here to get me naked and prove how susceptible I am to your charms?”
“Are you trying to piss me off?”
She blinked.
“Maybe you’re annoyed with yourself because I tempt you, or you’re unhappy that I’ve made you curious.” He placed his glass on the quartz. “Perhaps you crave a taste of leather on your beautiful derrière and don’t know how to ask for it.”
“You’re ridiculous.” She pressed the globe of her glass between her palms.
“If you want to be over my lap, I’d be delighted to accommodate you. But you can’t make it easy, can you? If you’d worn something more appropriate, I’d know you wanted to feel us, bare skin to bare skin. But know this, I’m not just going to rip off your clothes and give you an orgasm and send you on your merry little way.” He moved his beverage to the side, sloshing the contents over the rim. “So answer my earlier question, Catrina. Why did you come?”
“Nothing better to do.”
She really was trying to infuriate him. “Try again?”
“Look…” She exhaled. “I already told you why I’m here.”
“Then go home and use a fucking vibrator if all you want is a random orgasm.”
Color drained from her face.
“Be honest with yourself, Catrina, even if you want to lie to me.”
Her hand shaking, she placed her glass on the counter next to his.
“What are you scared of?”
“Nothing.”
Her answer was quick, too quick. “You’re not afraid of the sexual aspect at all. In fact, you’d be happy to play with me as long as I got you off.”
Her lips parted and she stood there, as if riveted.
“But you know I’m going to demand more from you than you want to give.”
“Not true,” she protested.
“Really?” He stood and pushed back the wooden stool. “I won’t be satisfied with a few minutes together. I don’t want to show you to my dungeon and force you to your knees, though at the moment, the idea does have some merit.”
She flinched.
“That might send you scurrying, but it wouldn’t frighten you. What terrifies you, though, is the idea that I want to get to know you. I want to know what keeps you awake at night, why you’re scared of having something that isn’t shallow.”
“Don’t give up your day job,” she fired back. “You suck as a psychiatrist.”
“Why do you need men to lick your boots?”
She rolled her eyes and countered, “Why do you need women to be subservient?”
“I don’t, and they’re not. Women are my equal.”
“Please. I watched the demo you did with Susan.”
“Then you noticed the way we interacted. You would have also been aware that everything I did was solely to meet her needs. Just as I met yours last night.”
Catrina tucked her hands behind her.
To hide the fact they were still shaking?
“Just as I will meet them again tonight. If you’re agreeable.” He took a few steps toward her. To her credit, she straightened her shoulders. “Admit it… A BDSM relationship is about way more than getting your sexual kink on. It’s about an exchange of energy, about being so focused on another person that their happiness becomes paramount to you. Your sub’s experience matters more than your own.”
“I get my subs off.”
“Before or after they pleasure you?”
She looked away.
“I’m not criticizing you,” he said. “Merely suggesting there’s more to it than you realize.”
She met his gaze.
“Have you masturbated?”
“What kind of question is that?” she asked, her voice delightfully breathless.
Damien knew how seductive the right sexual partner could be. That’s why having her here meant something to him. “Since you didn’t respond to my earlier text, I’m curious to know whether or not you followed my instruction.”
“No.” She cleared her throat as her cheeks flushed scarlet. “I didn’t touch myself.”
“I promised you a reward if you were good.”
She swallowed deeply.
“You want it, don’t you?”
Then she looked up at him.
Catrina, with her sudden shiver and wide, unblinking eyes was going to be a challenge…one he was looking forward to.
“I do indeed have a dungeon, one I want to show you. Before we get started, I want to know your safe and slow words.”
“I’ll go with halt, just like at the Den.”
He nodded.
“And yellow.”
“Now that’s out of the way, I’ll give you a choice… Shall I order you to strip for me? Or would you like to do it of your own free will?”