Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Why did Damien make things so difficult?
It annoyed her to think he knew her as well as she knew herself. Maybe even better.
She’d spent the past five years locked away in a protective cocoon.
Damien, though, kept pushing, circling back to the questions he asked, never satisfied until she revealed everything he wanted to know.
“Since you haven’t made a decision, I’ll make it for you. Strip. Here, and now.”
Her pulse stalled, and her thoughts splintered.
When she scened with her boys, she set the scene, named the time and place, and she was dressed for play when they arrived.
Standing in a man’s kitchen and peeling off her clothes wasn’t something she’d ever done before.
Damien confused her. Unlike last night, this wasn’t a seduction, and he hadn’t taken her to his dungeon, nor had he laid out any toys.
Except for what had already happened between them and the fact he’d told her to get naked in his kitchen, she could believe they were on a first date, getting ready to go to dinner.
“You’re not shy, are you?” he asked.
When she didn’t respond, he gentled his voice and said, “I would have never suspected. Take your time. But I will have you nude. Would you like some help?”
“Uhm…”
Once again, because of her hesitation, he made the decision for her.
Capturing her sweater, he tugged it from her waistband, then he pulled it up and over her head with a single, smooth move. Part of her hair dislodged and fell over her forehead and down her face.
She forced herself to breathe.
He stepped back, giving her some space, but not much. Clearly, he knew what he was doing.
Once he’d draped her sweater over the oven door’s handle, he stood there, regarding her.
She crouched to remove her boots and socks, and he offered a steadying hand.
Though she was tall, she felt tiny standing before him in bare feet. She’d had no idea how unnerving facing a Dominant could be.
Though she respected the subs who scened with her, she marveled anew at their courage.
“Keep going, Catrina.”
Hurriedly, before her thoughts could paralyze her, she removed her jeans.
Damien scooped them up from the hardwood floor.
Once she’d shimmied out of her thong, he extended his hand for that lingerie, as well.
Wordlessly, she shoved the skimpy piece of silk into his palm.
“You’re beautiful.”
Though he’d said the same to Susan, a husk vibrated his vocal cords, skittering awareness through her.
Next, she unhooked her bra and shucked the straps from her shoulders.
“Thank you,” he said, accepting her final piece of clothing.
Catrina resisted the impulse to cover up. Instead, she drew her shoulders closer together, forcing her chest out.
“I turned up the heat before you arrived. Let me know if you’re cold.” He placed her undergarments on a stool. “Have you ever knelt for a man?”
He switched topics faster than anyone she’d ever known. It kept her off balance and from dwelling on any one thing for too long. “No.” Not willingly. And she wouldn’t be forced to ever again.
“But I’m warning you that I’m not about to start now.”
“I can’t and won’t compel you to do anything. I respect everything you say and all your wishes.”
His rich voice, thick and inviting, like whiskey warmed near a fire, hypnotized her.
“We can and should talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable. That said, it would give me great pleasure to see you kneel for me. As a courtesy, I’d allow you the rug.”
As each moment passed, she fell deeper under his spell.
“The choice is entirely yours.”
With that, he folded his arms and lapsed into silence.
At the Den and other places she’d played, she had watched submissives lower themselves with great care and elegance. And there had been a beautiful connection between Top and bottom.
“I thought this was about my pleasure?”
“It is.”
She scowled. “You’ll have to explain that to me.”
How awful was this? Standing there, barefoot, naked, staring up at a breathtakingly gorgeous Dominant who wanted her to bend to his will?
“Going deep inside, releasing inhibitions, allows a sub to enjoy a richer experience.”
“I’m not convinced.”
As if he didn’t care which option she chose, he shrugged. “Test my theory. Either way, you’ll know what your submissives feel when they perform the act for you.”
“Fine. I’ll try it.”
“Such a brave woman.”
Like a true gentleman, Damien told her to move to the living room where a plush rug filled the floor in front of the fireplace.
Once again, he offered his assistance while she lowered herself to her knees.
Subs knelt for her all the time, and she’d never given much consideration to the surface. She was grateful for his foresight.
“How is it?”
She cricked her neck to look at him. “I really, really hate it.”
“Then get up.”
“What?”
“I meant it when I said I won’t force you to do anything.”
“But…”
“If you want to stop, do so.” He folded his arms in his usual, unconcerned manner.
Maybe out of stubbornness, she remained where she was.
“What do you hate about it?”
“It hurts my neck.”
“Fair enough. Anything else?”
“It’s subservient.”
“If you want to look at it that way.”
She exhaled, not sure why she was still on her knees. But him talking to her, rather than walking away, made it possible. “What other possible way is there?”
“You tell me.”
“Has anyone ever told you how frustrating you are?”
“Once or twice, perhaps.” A tiny smile ghosted his lips.
This lighter side of him was endearing and allowed her self-consciousness to ebb. Because he treated it as if it were natural, it seemed that way.
This evening, she’d prepared herself to interact with a hardened Dominant. But his behavior was kinder than she’d been expecting, and her defenses began to crumble.
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 well-honed 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.
Realizing he was waiting for an answer, she drank in his silent strength. After a full thirty seconds during which he said nothing, she hazarded a guess. “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 tonight’s experience. 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 toward the kitchen area and 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 indulged in a glass of wine before leaving home.
“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, Catrina.”
Somewhere along the way, he’d stopped calling her Milady. Subtly, inexorably, he was asserting his power in a way she couldn’t find objectionable.
“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 hair clip, sending the tresses tumbling 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.” 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 one powerful reward.
Suddenly, she understood why Susan had looked at him with such awe. Being the focus of Master Damien Lowell’s attentions was mind blowing. He seemed to have created a place where she could be herself and the rest of the world didn’t matter.
She called out his name again as she tightened all her muscles in anticipation. Blood rushed in her ears.
Oh, my…
Her thoughts vanished as 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.
“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 to twist and squeeze one of her nipples.
The added sensation was enough, and she froze, forgetting 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.
An eternity later, she opened her eyes to see him standing there, broad, tall, steady.
While he was fully dressed, she was naked on his kitchen counter, 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 his charming, deadly smiles played at the corners of his mouth.
Delighting 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.”
Yours?“But I’m not,” she protested.
“You are. Get used to it. Warmer?”
“Thanks, yes.”
His rugged handsomeness stole her breath.
She’d wondered what he looked like under his clothes, but the first glance of his bare chest exceeded her expectations. A smattering of hair arrowed downward 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 blow job 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 of their glasses.
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 her sparkling water. “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?”She blinked.
“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 and allowed her hair to fall forward to hide her expression. As he had earlier, Damien brushed back the strands.
“I’d prefer you to 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?” Desperately needing space, she scooted away from him.
“Because of the way you snapped at me just now.”
“I didn’t.”
“Did I touch a nerve, Milady? I meant it when I said I want to know everything you’ve never shown anyone else.”
“It’s boring.” And private.
“Your secrets are safe with me.”
Because she believed what he said, and because she’d had years to recover, she decided to offer the barebones. “I was engaged once. Until he cleaned out the checking 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 learned 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 an untrustworthy thief to you being a Domme.”
“I decided I would be in charge of my life, make my own decisions after that.”
“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 seen you with the same sub.”
“You’re observant. I had one fairly serious relationship after my engagement ended,” she confessed.
She sighed.
Even now, she hated talking about Todd. “I…” So she could carefully choose her words, Catrina hesitated. “He was nice enough, but boring, and so was the sex. So I suggested we mix things up…” How to explain what happened next? The change in him? The bruises he left behind? “I took charge, and he took exception.”
Damien regarded her, as if waiting for her to go on, but instead she skipped to the next important event. “At a party, my friend Joann had one too many margaritas and was telling everyone I was single and deserved a man who would worship me. One of the men 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 it helped keep her emotionally insulated so she didn’t get hurt anymore.
“And now you want to accept my invitation to explore the dynamic from the other side.”
“Not really.”
He quirked an eyebrow.
“I’m curious about interacting with you. For one evening. Nothing more.” He didn’t need to know that after she’d left him, she’d been restless and filled with angst. “I thought accepting your invitation would be fun.” Harmless. And those orgasms had already made her trip across town worth the effort.
“How do you deal with one of your subs who continually tells you lies or half-truths.”
She blinked. “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.” But true. Which was part of the appeal of being a Domme.
“Theoretically, then,” he said. “What would you do?”
The conversation made her squirm. “I don’t know. Give him a spanking, maybe. Perhaps a chastity device for some time.” She grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest.
“Do you suppose that would be effective?”
Before she could get defensive, he spoke again, “I would wonder about 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…
Couldn’t be.
But he was.
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 she 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. In a long-term relationship, it might even work. But it’s possible to have a scene without a relationship. You demonstrated that with Susan.”
“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 say this. Last night I mentioned that you look down and to the left when you’re avoiding a question. If you have no need to protect yourself, you look me in the eye.”
She didn’t know whether it flattered or frightened her that his observation was so astute. Her mother had always known when Catrina was lying. Had she figured out the same thing Damien had? “We don’t have a relationship, so I don’t owe you anything.”
“She said while looking me straight in the eye.”
She blew out a breath. “You’re insufferable.”
“That was honest. So, would you like to answer, again, why are you here?”
“What I’d like is for you to mind your own business.”
“When you’re ready to tell me, I’ll listen.”
“Is this what you do to all your subs? Grind down their resistance so that they’ll beg you to beat them just to get you to leave them alone?”
“You’re on to something.” Very deliberately, he put down his glass.
Then, before she knew what was happening, he had her over his lap, her bottom upturned and exposed. The pillow went flying. She kicked and struggled and protested. He trapped her legs between his then delivered a sharp slap to her right buttock.
She froze.
“Have you ever had a spanking, Milady?”
“I thought you didn’t beat a woman until the second date.”
“You’re the exception to almost all of my rules.”
As much as she was able, she twisted to look at him.
“I’ll repeat my question, and this time I want an answer. Have you ever had a spanking, Milady?”