Chapter Six
Chapter Six
“I’m not sure what you think I’ve done to deserve this one. I thought you talked about punishments in terms of a negotiation.”
“This, Milady, is not a punishment.”
“Then what the hell do you call it?”
“Pleasure.”
“You have a warped version of the word’s meaning. That freaking hurt, and it sure as hell wasn’t fun.”
“And yet here we are. And you haven’t safe worded.”
Damn him for noticing.
“You didn’t enjoy that?”
“Hell no.”
Gently, he caressed her buttocks with long, sweeping, repetitive strokes. Beneath his palms, her skin heated.
He ran his fingers up the insides of her thighs and tension eased from her body as her pussy dampened.
Last night, when he’d given her a smack, her physical turn-on had been instant. If she had thought about it in advance, she would have expected to be angry that he’d touched her. Instead, the intensity had added to her pleasure.
“Still think it’s not fun?”
“This is acceptable, I suppose.”
He chuckled. “When you’re ready for your spanking, let me know.”
“You may continue to massage me.”
“I hadn’t figured you for a brat, Milady.”
Was that how she was behaving? Trying to goad him into taking the decision away from her?
But he wouldn’t. “What do you want?”
Catrina was lost in a spiral of confusion. She was aroused, wanting more, and it seemed a betrayal of her ideals to ask for it.
Reminding herself this was a temporary arrangement, and that she’d already learned something, she said, “Go ahead and spank me, Damien.” She tightened her buttocks in fear and anticipation, though she knew that oftentimes made the pain worse.
He didn’t tell her to relax. Instead, he helped her to do so with a light, gentle touch. On top of his earlier massage, this felt wonderful, making it impossible to hold on to any tension.
When he increased the force, she liked it. Earlier, he’d given her a smack that hurt, but this couldn’t be more different.
Though she found out what her subs liked and tried to deliver, being on the receiving end showed her, in a way that wasn’t abstract, what it felt like. No wonder some of her executive playmates liked getting spanked. Right now, her stress was melting away just like it did when she meditated or worked out.
“More?”
“Please.”
When he continued, she added, “Spank me harder, Damien.”
He did, but gradually.
He took the time to finger her after giving her a dozen or so smacks. She used her toes as leverage to rise up, silently seeking more.
Despite that, Damien didn’t change what he was doing. She understood that he was delivering what she wanted, but at his pace, on his terms. Confounding Dom. But she had to admit, his way gave her a richer experience.
He varied the location, speed, and impact of his spanks.
“Surrender, Catrina.”
She closed her eyes. The remaining parts of her hesitation were swept away as he continued the erotic dance on her flesh.
He teased her cunt and covered her legs and buttocks with blazing blows.
The more she went with it, the deeper she seemed to be swimming until an orgasm began to unfurl. She cried out his name, but the word emerged in a jumbled mess. She tried to move, but her legs felt lethargic.
“Do you want to come, Catrina?”
His voice seemed to come from quite a distance.
“Milady?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes. Please.”
He drew moisture from her pussy and used it to insert a finger in her ass.
She whimpered.
He placed two more fingers in her heated core and moved in and out of both holes quickly, making it impossible for her to think. “Damien,” she said.
“I’ve got you.”
She expected him to ease up, but he didn’t. Instead, he moved faster, purposefully.
Because he had her legs trapped, she was helpless, his prisoner.
Whatever he wanted to give or take, he could.
That she’d offered him this much control made her shudder. A single word would restore her power, yet she remained silent.
At his continued, persistent invasion, her stomach clenched. Emotions threatened to drown her, making it impossible to breathe.
“That’s it,” he coached her. “Come for me, Milady.” He pulled out his fingers before reentering her in a single, forceful push.
She screamed.
His ruthless domination shoved her over the edge into a stunning climax.
The orgasm made her go rigid. Time and space collided.
Moments later, she shuddered.
“Damn, you’re responsive, Milady,” he murmured, easing out his fingers and turning her over.
Gently, he cradled her against his chest.
Because she was suddenly vulnerable, instinct urged her to push him away.
But when she started to move, he tightened his grip, stroking her hair and uttering soothing words that she couldn’t quite make out.
He held her until her breathing became smoother.
She’d never been held after lovemaking. Not that this scene had counted as lovemaking, she reminded herself. So what was it?
She’d gone from college sex, to an abbreviated engagement, to a ho-hum sexual relationship with Todd, to being a Dominant. She gave comfort. She didn’t receive it.
Damien kept his arms looped around her even when she straightened and put some distance between them.
“That was…” She tried to find words but was lost when she looked at him.
Damien’s eyebrows were drawn together over his electric blue eyes, and he said nothing. No one had ever regarded her as intensely.
He cocked his head to the side, indicating he’d wait as long as she needed.
“It was different than I thought it would be.”
“In what way?”
Trying to steady herself, she drew a few breaths. “This sounds ridiculous.”
“I doubt it.”
“Humbling.”
He nodded.
“But also empowering.”
“Perfect,” he said. “The dichotomy. The yin and yang of submission.”
Though she’d had no real idea what to expect when he’d turned her over his knee, she hadn’t been prepared for her emotions to be as swamped as her body.
On some level she was concerned that he hadn’t needed to cajole her compliance. Instead, she’d offered it. “My ass really does sting.”
“Of course it does. It only qualifies as a spanking if it hurts.”
That resolve-melting smile played around his mouth again.
Her heart warned her to run.
“That was a hedonistic beating, meant to arouse both of us.”
“I’m the only one who got off.”
“Doesn’t matter. I get fulfillment from turning you on. That’s what it’s about for me.”
She looked at him.
“As a Dom, your Dom…when you come, I am pleased. Giving is more important than receiving.”
Although her ideas of domination were similar to Damien’s, the execution of their scenes were different. Before one of her boys arrived, she would chat with him on the phone. She would find out what he wanted, and they would discuss their mutual expectations. After a scene, she would soothe her sub, dry any of his tears, tell him how proud she was of him, allow him as much time as he needed to dress in street-legal clothes, but she didn’t sit in patient silence for this long while he made sense of the physical experience. Maybe Damien was right. Maybe she did need to experience this for herself.
“How are you doing?”
She was shattered. No matter how much time he gave her, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to comprehend the emotional implications of them being together. “I need to go,” she said, pressing away from him.
Surprising her, he helped her up. “Let’s get your clothes.”
She made small talk while they went into the kitchen. “Remain there,” he said. “Don’t get dressed.”
He excused himself and went into the bathroom, and she heard water running.
This was awkward, standing in the middle of the kitchen, half-naked. She supposed it shouldn’t bother her as he’d eaten her while she was spread on his countertop. He had a way of demolishing her inhibitions.
A moment later, he returned with a damp cloth. “Spread your legs, Milady.”
She knew better than to argue.
He crouched to bathe her pussy and ass. She appreciated the attention but was becoming more and more desperate to make her escape. “Thank you,” she said, when he nodded his satisfaction.
Aware of his gaze and wondering if her buttocks were bright red, she first pulled on her thong, then her jeans before tugging on her socks and stuffing her feet into her boots. She knew he noticed how much her hands trembled.
When she started to pull off his T-shirt, he said, “Keep it.”
Back in the foyer, she shoved her sweater and bra into her purse. With a half-smile that felt as fragile as her control, she dug out her keys.
“I’ll take those.”
“Uh…”
“Milady, I’m not going to try to keep you here. I wish you would stay. And you’re welcome to. But if you’re intent on leaving, then I’ll warm up your car while you put your coat on.”
Put that way, how could she refuse, even if it prolonged the goodbye? She dropped the keys into his palm.
He pulled on a fleece jacket over his bare chest. Damn. No matter what he wore, he was a good-looking man. After turning up the collar, he headed outside.
Catrina shivered when she closed the door behind him. And it had nothing to do with the sudden gust of cold air that had swirled around her.
She heard the car engine start, and she shrugged into her coat before she could change her mind about leaving.
When he returned, a few snowflakes clung to his midnight-colored hair.
“I’ll walk you out,” he said.
Survival instinct warned her to run…now.
“Send me a text when you arrive home,” he said.
“I’ll be fine. The drive is short, and the roads aren’t all that—”
“Don’t push your luck, Catrina.” His words were tight with tension. He captured her chin and tipped back her head. “I didn’t ask for a call. Just common courtesy. I’d prefer to tie you to the foot of my bed and keep you there until morning. So I think a text is a hell of a compromise.”
She sucked in a breath. The image that kaleidoscoped through her mind terrified her. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Of course not. That’s far too uncivilized.”
Relieved, Catrina exhaled.
“I’m not an ogre. I’d handcuff you to the headboard.”
The look he shot her was indecipherable, and she couldn’t determine whether or not he was joking. “I need to go.” To save myself.
As he’d promised, he walked her to the car.
As she slid into the driver’s seat, he leaned in and said, “You’ll think about this interaction a lot. You’ll relive it. And after you have, you’ll be curious.”
His voice wrapped around her, heating her.
“You’ll wonder what else there is and what you’re missing,” he continued. “You liked the spanking. Maybe you didn’t want to like it, or it offends your sensibilities that you enjoyed it. And we can talk about that. But the fact remains, you want more. You want me to fuck you as much as I want to be inside your hot pussy.” He paused, but he didn’t give her time to object. “You know my number. Call it anytime.” Damien stepped back, started to close the door, but then hesitated. He captured a fistful of her hair, looped it around his hand to draw her head toward him, then finished with, “I meant it when I told you to text when you get home. If you don’t, Catrina…”
She wanted to protest but couldn’t find the words.
“I will give you a spanking you won’t like and will always remember. Am I clear?”
She nodded.
“I didn’t hear you,” he said softly.
“Yes, Damien.” She needed to escape while she still could, before she begged him to let her stay.
Hell.
He was right. As he’d spoken, a hundred different ideas tumbled through her brain, and it was as if she could feel his cold, steel cuffs around her wrists. “I understand,” she said.
He angled her head back a little more. Then he placed a light, gentle, full-of-promise kiss on her mouth before he released his grip.
“Drive safe, Milady.”
Without another word, he closed the car door.
She pulled away, hands shaking, grateful she could drive without conscious thought. She looked in the rearview mirror. He remained where he was until she lost sight of him.
As she drove, Catrina clutched the steering wheel, and the tension in her grip made her shoulders ache. Damien Lowell disturbed her in a way no other man ever had.
He made her question everything she knew—or thought she knew—about relationships, and worse, about herself. Being a Domme gave her a huge sexual kick. Mostly, however, she now admitted that it was about staying in control.
What she’d just experienced with Damien had demolished that.
She’d enjoyed letting him take the lead. She’d liked the hot orgasms. And the spanking had aroused her. Afterward, as she’d snuggled into his arms, it had been as if the outside world no longer existed. Her fears and worries had vanished.
When she’d been younger, more idealistic, she’d thought that it was possible for a man and woman to become partners and support each other. She’d been a romantic, even though she’d seen her mother’s constant struggle for survival.
Tonight, he’d been supportive, wanting to know her inner thoughts and feelings. She’d glimpsed what it might be like to have someone to turn to. Part of her wanted to accept what he was offering.
She shook her head to clear it. Life had taught her to put away foolish, impractical notions. It might take all her resolve and determination, but she would do exactly that.
When she arrived at her cold, dark condominium, she sent a one-word text.
Safe.
With her insides tied up in knots, she didn’t want to say anything more.
Instantly, her phone chimed.
I enjoyed having you here. You know how to find me.
He’d told her she would want more, that she’d wonder what she was missing. And she was terrified to the tips of her toes that he might be right.
It was better to keep distance between them. Lots of it. Lots and lots of it.
The question was, how did she plan to do that?
* * * *
Confounding, frustrating, annoying-as-hell woman.
Damien shoved away from his computer at the Den. Damn it. He’d looked half a dozen times, but he hadn’t seen Catrina’s name on the weekend’s reservation list.
With a sigh, he strode to the window and stared at the expanse of pine trees and snow-covered ground.
It had been almost two weeks since she’d been to his house.
As he’d requested, she had sent him a text that night, letting him know she’d made it home safe. Since then, he’d heard nothing from her.
He’d known the abbreviated scene had challenged her emotionally.
Fuck.
Challenged her?
Who was he kidding? It had challenged him.
Her body language had indicated that she’d enjoyed what they’d done.
Perhaps a bit too sure of himself, he’d told her she’d want to explore further. But more, he’d hoped that they’d connected in a way she’d never imagined possible.
Their time together might have been short, but he’d held her. She’d told him about her fears and offered him a glimpse inside her carefully constructed defenses. There’d been no doubt she’d taken tentative steps toward trusting him.
She’d captivated him, but that wasn’t enough. He wanted the feeling to be mutual.
Because she’d let him in, he’d anticipated she might panic. He’d have been delighted, but surprised, if she had contacted him right away. He had expected her to take a couple of days to think things through, maybe as long as a week.
But this…? He was beginning to wonder if he’d misjudged the situation, and her.
“Boss?”
Damien looked over his shoulder. Gregorio stood in the doorway, scowling.
“I knocked twice,” Gregorio said.
Turning, Damien waved the man in. “Is the reservations system working correctly?”
“As far as I’m aware,” Gregorio replied. “Are you having problems?”
Damien shook his head.
“Aha.”
“Aha, what?” Damien spread his legs and folded his arms across his chest, matching Gregorio’s stance.
“Things become clear.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“This makes three weekends in a row that you’ve been here. You’re hoping to see someone specific.”
“Don’t you have work to do?”
“No. Really. Everything’s set. I can listen to your woes for at least an hour.”
“Out.”
“You’ve got it bad.”
“Are you hoping to get fired?”
“This is serious,” Gregorio said. “If you’re talking about sacking me and taking care of all of this yourself, you’re not thinking straight. We need the good stuff.”
“I might beat your ass.”
“Would that help you?”
Damien took a seat behind his desk.
The two had been friends for years, and the question was sincere. Gregorio knew Damien’s moods as well as Damien did. And if Damien needed the release, no doubt Gregorio would expose his back.
Without an invitation or permission, Gregorio crossed to a sideboard and opened a door. He slid aside a supposed-to-be secret panel and removed a crystal decanter of alcohol Of course, in typical fashion, the man had gone straight for Damien’s private reserve. Brandy this time.
Gregorio tugged out the stopper then slowly poured a small amount into two separate snifters. He returned to slide one across the desktop toward Damien.
“We’ve been through a lot,” Gregorio said, taking a seat. “Relationship breakups…”
Including Gregorio’s shocking divorce.
“Several new business ventures and one spectacular failure.”
Damien didn’t need to be reminded of that. Making the cover of a respected Wall Street magazine because of a bankruptcy still gave him nightmares.
No matter how many successes he’d had since, his portfolio had been tarnished.
“But I haven’t seen you like this before.”
“Like what?”
“Smitten,” Gregorio clarified.
Fuck that.“Men don’t get smitten.”
“Fair enough. Obsessed. Mistress Catrina?”
“How—?”
“My brilliant deductive reasoning skills.” Gregorio crossed his long legs. He grinned. “Susan was here last week with a new guy. You were cordial to them both. To my knowledge, you haven’t played with anyone other than Mistress Catrina recently.”
“No one should know about that.”
“The tension between the two of you when she left that night was like electricity in the air. And since she hasn’t been back, I can’t think of anyone else whose name you’d be looking for on the reservation system. Yep. There’s no one else you’d be smitten by, well, I mean if you were smitten—which you’re not—since men don’t get smitten.”
“Do you want to shut the fuck up now?”
“Oh, hell no. I’m just getting started.”
Gregorio grinned, pissing Damien off even more.
He held his glass in his palm, warming the brandy. The ritual itself helped settle him.
A minute later, he brought the snifter closer and swirled again, releasing more of the alcohol’s aroma. As always, he appreciated the sight of the liquid clinging mysteriously to the inside of the glass.
A few seconds later, he took a sip. The liquid gold tasted of smoke and fruit, and it warmed on its way down.
“Good idea?”
“Indeed.”
Gregorio took a small drink. After closing his eyes, he made an appreciative sound. “This stuff can make anything better.”
“Especially when it belongs to someone else and you didn’t have to pay for it,” Damien shot back wryly.
Gregorio nodded his agreement. “Especially then.”
Following Gregorio’s lead, Damien pushed away from the desk and relaxed against his chairback. He realized this was the first time in two weeks that he’d managed to release any tension without first spending an hour at the gym.
“So, you played with her outside of the Den.”
“Mind your own business.”
“More than once?”
“You know goddamn well I’m not going to answer that.”
“Have you called her? Or are you waiting for Mistress Catrina to fall under your spell? Wait. No. Holy shit…” Gregorio uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “Unless you subbed for her.”
Over the top of the snifter, Damien regarded his second-in-command he shrugged.
“Never mind that.” Undeterred, Gregorio continued, “She subbed for you, which meant something since she’s a Domme and sometimes shows up with multiple pets. And now you want her to become a sub for you. So, let me guess. You issued an ultimatum. You want her to do things on your terms. Ergo, you can’t give in and call her.”
“Ergo? No one really uses that word.”
“You have been waiting for her to come to you. Only she hasn’t. And that means this is a unique situation for you.” He took another drink then said, “How’d I do?”
“I’m relieved you’ll be able to get a job as a psychic advisor when I fire you.”
He expected Gregorio to be at least a little chastened.
Instead, the man all but crowed. “Damn. I’m better than I thought.”
“It’s time for you to get back to work,” Damien said.
Gregorio grinned and raised his empty glass in a silent toast before leaving the office and closing the door behind him.
Contemplatively, Damien ignored all the screens demanding his attention, and instead, stared out of the window.
With the frost on the trees, it looked fucking cold. And since the atmosphere was so dry, he doubted it would snow. Now, knowing Catrina wasn’t planning to attend, he wished he’d stayed home. He had no desire to interact with anyone. And if he remained in his suite, he knew he’d brood.
Another sip of the brandy warmed his insides. In selecting the beverage, Gregorio had made an excellent choice.
Right now, it annoyed the crap out of Damien that Gregorio had been right about so many things.
After Damien had finished the drink, he forced himself to go through Gregorio’s plans and projected revenues for the upcoming month. Master Niles’ former production company was requesting to expand their usage of the Den’s facilities. And Gregorio had proposed buying an adjacent lot so the facilities could add onsite lodging to the five-year plan. Or at least a stable for pony play. Damien wasn’t sure if Gregorio was serious about that one, or whether he’d added that line to see if Damien was paying attention.
An hour later, music blared, all but shaking the empty snifter still on his desk. Tonight’s theme was retro-dance party. He couldn’t wait to see what attendees came up with. Teased hair and leg warmers? No doubt some would celebrate with high-protocol standards they no longer observed.
He hadn’t anticipated, though, that Gregorio would hang a disco ball from the living room’s vaulted ceiling.
How the fuck am I supposed to endure this?