Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
“This will be much worse for you if you don’t do what you’re told.”
His tone dripped with seriousness.
“But people might see!”
“Final warning.”
Never in a million years had she even considered behaving this way. And now she was prepared to do what her Dom demanded.
Fingers shaking, she followed his command.
“Now masturbate.”
Before the light turned green, he reached into the back seat and grabbed a blanket that he placed over her lap.
“Thank you.”
Trust.
She should have suspected he wouldn’t have done anything to truly humiliate her. But her belief in him deepened even further.
Every day, she learned something more from him.
“Now masturbate yourself. Don’t come. Otherwise you’ll think I went easy on you last night.”
Is this really happening?
“Get on with it.”
Trying to give directions while he drove was about impossible.
Maybe because he’d forbidden her to orgasm, she was breathless in under five minutes.
Damnably, he continued past her street to prolong her agony. “Oh, Damien.”
“Problem?” His grin was as wicked as his tone was curious.
When she was whimpering, breathing hard, he finally pulled into her driveway.
“Keep your hand where it is.” After turning off the engine, he walked around to her side of the vehicle to open the door. “Now…” He leaned in, blocking any sight of her and stealing oxygen that she needed to breathe. “Let me lick your fingers.”
Her heart thumping, she locked her gaze on him and did as he said.
“So damn delicious.” Slowly he released her. “You may zip up.”
It took some maneuvering, but she finally managed to put herself together.
“Shall we?”
Once she was capable of moving, she pulled the lapels of her jacket tight against the early afternoon chill.
Because her hand was still trembling, she fumbled with her key.
“May I?” He reached around to help her.
“Thank you.”
When they were sealed inside, she tried to see her house through his point of view. Considering how he lived, this wasn’t anything special. “As you can see, I’m still working on it. A little at a time.”
“I see why you bought it. Lots of potential. Fabulous location. And it’s big.”
“It takes a lot of my time,” she agreed. “And money.”
She shrugged out of her coat and accepted his, hanging both in a closet. “It’s an investment, but I got it for a bargain-basement price.”
“Solid thinking,” he said. “I approve. Mind showing me around?”
The kitchen was the first room she’d remodeled. She had quartz countertops, top-of-the-line appliances, and she’d installed a window over the oversize sink.
“Great choices.”
“The heartbeat of the house, right?”
“Or the bedroom,” he countered, making her reel once more. “Nice backyard.”
“Much better in summer when I have potted plants blooming and the trees have leaves.”
He followed her into the living room.
Here, the hardwood floors were dull and splintered. “On the to-do list,” she said. As was, eventually, building shelves to hold her knickknacks, photos, and her dozens—maybe even hundreds—of books. As it was, every surface was covered, with items stacked on top of one another.
Next up was her office.
“Nice job in here, too.”
“This was the easiest room. Not a lot of trim work, and the floors were in fairly good shape since the previous owners had used it as a guest room. While I’m here, I might as well grab my files and computer.”
Catrina didn’t excuse her clutter.
She was a creative thinker who left notes and ideas in every corner.
He held a large pink tote steady while she filled it. “What do you do, exactly?”
“I’m a financial advisor.” She tossed her favorite pen on top of the folders. “For women.”
“A job choice you made after your former fiancé wiped out your bank account?”
“You were listening.”
“To every word you say.”
And he did a great job at adding the pieces for a more complete picture. “After I recovered from the shock, I used his betrayal as motivation.” She met his gaze. “I dug out, working two jobs. One of them was at night and weekends as a server to restore my savings. Then I figured out what I needed to do in order to open my business. Now I specialize in helping others to rebuild or carry on after the loss of the primary earner. It’s estimated that ninety to ninety-five percent of women, at some point, will be solely responsible for their finances. So understanding, planning, and literacy is really important.”
“I admire you. You took something painful for you and used it for good.”
“Wasn’t just for me,” she admitted. “My mom, too.” She smiled at the memory. “She was my case study. If you can get your mother to listen, you’re doing okay. She’s always believed in me, but to do what I said with the small amount of funds that she did have… She made a plan, set some objectives, read a whole bunch of prospectuses, did some research on her own. She’s still a few years away from being able to retire, but I got her to double the amount of money she thought she might need.”
“Impressive.”
“Most times, women are not prepared for the shock of their loss, and then you throw in retirement funds, or lack thereof, debt ratios, bills…” She shrugged. “I get most of my business through referrals, and I have a group that meets monthly where women set goals and share their frustrations, help one another with strategies.”
“Different approach than I’ve seen men use.”
“Turns out the sexes are different, Mr. Lowell.”
He arched a dark, sexy eyebrow. “Are they indeed?”
She put her computer in a backpack, grabbed her phone charger then led the way back to the living room. Part of her couldn’t believe she was going to do this.
“I want to see your bedroom.”
“I’m just going to throw a few things in a bag,” she said when he placed the tote near the front door. In his hand, it didn’t look at all feminine. Ignoring his statement, she added, “You’re welcome to watch television or have a drink while you wait. I have beer in the fridge.”
Not surprisingly, he followed her. “Where do you keep your lingerie?”
She sighed and pointed to the dresser. “Third and fourth drawers.”
“Grab your suitcase.”
Since there was no point in arguing, she did as he said.
He selected a few items and tossed them on her bed.
“Shoes?”
Never had anyone packed for her before. “In my closet.”
He added a pair of stupid-high sandals to the growing pile.
Surrendering to the inevitable, she gathered her toiletries from the master bathroom while he started going through her street-safe clothes.
“When you play with your subs, do you go to their place, or do they come here?”
“They come here.”
“Where do you play?”
Catrina knew where this was going, and butterflies danced in her tummy. “The other bedroom.”
“Do you want to show me?”
“That’s…” She hesitated.
“Private? Your domain?”
“Yes.”
“Is it important for you to keep it that way?”
With as turned on as she was…
“The choice is yours. No matter what you decide, I will one hundred percent respect your decision.”
He wound his fist in her hair and brought her in close for a scalding kiss.
When he ended it, she wondered if she could deny him anything…
Damien’s cock throbbed.
Catrina, gorgeous, innocent, and skeptical, appealed to him on so, so many levels. Her eyes were as green as they were revealing.
And with her face being devoid of makeup, she hid nothing from him.
All her concerns lay exposed in the depth of her eyes.
Unwilling to push, he proceeded with caution. Being dominated in her own space had to seem strange. “We could try…stop anytime it was too uncomfortable.”
“I…” She twisted her hands together. “Yes.”
Making this easier for her, he acted, picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder.
“What are you thinking?” She squealed around a laugh. “You’ll break your shoulder carrying me.”
“I could do this all day, Milady. And I might.” He swatted her upturned derrière.
“Damien!”
Undeterred by her little kicks, he strode to the end of the hallway.
He carried her past a beautiful black screen that hid a kneeling bench. The gorgeous piece appeared to be an antique. Carved from rosewood, if his guess was correct. In addition to an angled velvet-covered pad, the narrow upright part had ornate scrollwork along with a thick, velvet rest for elbows.
Perfect.
Treating her like the princess she was to him, he gently placed her on the floor next to it. “Take off your shoes, please.”
She hesitated.
“Something wrong?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “You’ll think my brain isn’t firing on all cylinders.”
“BDSM brings up a lot of things for participants.”
“I guess…” She tipped her head back to look at him. “This makes it… I don’t know. More real.”
Quietly he waited for her to continue.
“At the Den, even your quarters, allowed me to compartmentalize this better. Sceneing there is expected. Right? But this is where I’m in charge and plan what happens.”
“That makes complete sense.”
At his reassurance, her shoulders relaxed. In relief?
“I think I want to try.”
“Safe word anytime.”
Slowly, she nodded before removing her boots.
“I know this isn’t easy. And I appreciate you.”
“That helps, Damien. Thank you.”
Her approval would fire his Dominant dreams for weeks. “Now the rest of your clothing.”
He offered his hand for support, and she accepted.
Within minutes, she was radiant in her nakedness and vulnerability.
And he was fucking humbled.
“When you’re ready, please put your hands behind your head and spread your legs.”
“Are you… Are you going to inspect me, Damien?”
“I am.”
Hardly breathing, she continued to look ahead.
“You doing okay?”
“Struggling to know how to act.”
At the Den, he’d taken charge, kept things moving. This was more like a scene he’d have with someone he was in a long-term relationship with.
Forcibly he reminded himself this was a temporary arrangement.
All he wanted to do was give her the total experience of submitting.
Nothing more.
“Are you tempted?”
“To?” She looked at him.
“Cast your gaze at the floor.”
“No.” The word was all-but a breathless whisper.
“As an acknowledgment that I’m your Dom.”
This time, she didn’t respond at all.
But as he circled her, she lowered her head.
Had anything ever turned him on more? “Lovely, Catrina.”
He stopped in front of her and trailed his fingers down her chest, between her ribs, down her stomach.
Even though she was silent, she trembled at his touch.
Slowly, very slowly, he continued on, moving lower, until he parted her feminine folds.
She jerked.
He loved the way she reacted to him.
“Slide yourself back and forth over my finger.”
After a slight hesitation, she nodded. “Yes, Damien.”
With her eyes closed, she moved her pelvis against his hand.
“That’s it. Pretend you’re fucking it.”
“I—”
“Don’t think. Let things flow between us.”
Catrina worried her lower lip.
After a few seconds, she began to gyrate her hips.
“That’s it.”
Within thirty seconds, she bent her knees a little, no longer held herself as rigid.
“Beautiful.” He slipped a finger into her heat. “Keep moving.”
With a moan, she complied.
In that instant, she’d managed to let go of her thoughts and surrender.
There was nothing more sensational than this moment.
“Come for me, Catrina.” Because of her trust, she deserved it. And so much more.
“Damien…” Opening her eyes, she grabbed hold of him for support.
Then, rising on to her toes as he found her G-spot, she again called out his name.
“Take it.”
Whimpering, she came, and he wrapped an arm around her waist to support her as her body crumpled. “So perfect.”
He pulled out his finger and gathered her close, never wanting to let her go.
Because she was still shaking, he picked her up and carried her to a chair where he sat with her in his lap.
“I didn’t know I could come this many times,” she told him a few minutes later, her cheek pressed to his chest.
“We’re consuming some of those calories so I can take you to lunch later.”
“A man after my heart.” She smiled up at him.
Am I?
When her breathing returned to normal, he said, “Ready to try the bench?”
She looked at it, then back at him. “You could just give me another dozen orgasms?”
“And I will.”
Fire banked her eyes.
“But the next ones you’ll have to earn.”
“Spoken like an evil Dom.”
“Is there any other kind?” he replied.
He eased her from his lap and ensured she was stable on her feet.
“Are your toys in the closet?”
She nodded.
“Anything off limits? Reserved for certain subs?” If she were his, he’d take her shopping for implements he’d never share with anyone else.
“No. My boys generally bring their own if there’s something they prefer.”
“Anything in particular you want to try?”
“Quite frankly? No. I’ve never given it much thought.”
“Mmm. No curiosity at all?”
Red seeped into her cheeks. “I bought all of them for a man’s tougher hide.”
“I think you’ll find yours is much less delicate than you might imagine.”
“I was afraid you would say that.” She tightened her ass cheeks.
He crossed to the closet and found all of her toys arranged in order.
Within seconds, he pulled out a flogger then selected a cane. When he turned back to her, she was kneeling as he’d instructed.
She looked exquisitely beautiful, her knees on the red velvet, her elbows on the top rail, her palms pressed together, with her long hair flowing around her.
He’d always thought she was beautiful. But now she took his breath away.
Her submission—no matter how temporary—was an incredible gift, one he’d forever cherish.
If he had his way, he’d keep her on that thing forever. “Ever felt a cane?” he asked quietly.
Her eyes widened.
“It can be vicious, leaving a terrible mark.” He paused. “But it doesn’t have to be. You no doubt have subs who desire varying degrees of intensity.”
“Of course.” Her voice wavered.
“I’ve played with subs—male and female—who find they love the cane more than any other toy.”
“I’m skeptical.”
“Timing and arousal and location all factor in. Certain body parts are more sensitive than others. And of course, the way it’s wielded matters more than anything.”
“I’m not sure I’m buying what you’re selling, Damien.” Her gaze was riveted on the thin, reedy piece of rattan.
“You have a safe word if you don’t want to try it.”
“It’s a long drive back to your place, and I want to be able to sit comfortably.”
Watching her squirm the whole way would be its own, sweet reward.
“And I’m sure you’ll want to play again over the next two weeks.”
“A persuasive argument.” He grinned at her very submissive ploy. “But one that won’t work.”
“I’m curious enough to try, but I’m saying yellow before we even get started.”
“Fair enough.”
“Let’s get this over with.”
“My pleasure.” And he intended to make sure it was hers, too. After brushing aside her hair, he kissed her nape.
With a sigh, she relaxed a little.
“I’m going to start by flogging your back.”
“I thought…”
“I wouldn’t attempt the cane with you being so worried or without warming you up.”
He moved all her hair across her left shoulder, and softly said, “I’m marking you as mine, Catrina.”
She interlaced her fingers so hard that her knuckles whitened.
He trailed the broad, thin strands over her exposed skin. “What would you do to relax an uptight sub, Milady?”
“I’d keep talking to him,” she said. “And I’d start easy.”
“Would you?” Slowly, he used the flogger on her, allowing it to fall with a gentle sway. “How would you know if your technique was working?”
“His breathing would change. He may perspire a bit…”
“Then what?”
“His muscles wouldn’t be quite as tight. So I’d be able to actually see that he wasn’t as nervous as he had been.”
Her grip began to loosen.
Since her skin was starting to appear dewy, he made his hits more random, across her back, her buttocks, even her feet. He took a step back so he could get more leverage on his swing to give the blows more impact.
She allowed her head to fall forward a little.
“You’re doing well, Milady.” You’re mine. Surrendered.
When she was completely relaxed, he switched out the flogger for a cane and quietly told her he’d done so.
With the tip, he tapped the soles of her feet.
She curled her toes and her body tensed.
“Nothing unexpected or that you won’t enjoy.” Leaning in, he skimmed her neck with kisses. At the Den, she’d wanted to be surprised, but he wouldn’t do that to her today.
“Oh…”
Part of him wanted to scoop her up, carry her to bed, and fuck her hard.
Instead, he moved back again. “On your gorgeous behind.”
She tightened, then intentionally loosened her muscles. Only then did he lay a few light stripes across her buttocks.
“Uhm. Ah…”
“Too much?” But he was guessing it wasn’t.
“I…”
“You?” he prompted. He continued his strokes, not adding a lot of variety.
“Like.Like this.”
Impossibly, his cock hardened even more. This woman, beautiful in all ways, thrilled him. He yearned to hold her, cherish her. “Keep trusting me, Milady.”
“Yes…”
“Your feet?”
She wiggled her toes but didn’t protest.
With the lightest of motions, he struck her soles.
“Oh…”
He stroked between her thighs, and she obediently parted them.
Her pussy was wonderfully damp. “Would you like to come for me?”
She didn’t respond, but she shifted against his hand, silently imploring him.
He gave her his full attention, smiling when she wiggled and moaned.
“Damien, Damien, Damien.” She didn’t pause, making his name sound like a chant.
Stopping what he was doing, he used the cane three more times on her reddened butt cheeks, making her writhe before he set down the rattan and dropped to his knees behind her, fingering her pussy, playing with her clit, satisfying her as completely as she deserved.
Less than two minutes later, sobbing, she came, drenching his hand with her climax.
After removing his hand, he soothed her, kissed her.
And when she started to shake, he picked her up from the bench and carried her into the living room. He shoved aside a blanket and several magazines before sitting on the couch and pulling her toward him.
Cradling her tight, he stroked her hair and uttered soothing words, cherishing her.
“That was…”
Curious, he waited.
“Amazing.”
Her answer, along with the way she’d reacted to his physical domination, turned him on. This woman, independent and strong, yet so trusting in his arms, was starting to get to him.
She twisted slightly to look up at him. “If you’d have asked me if I was willing to try that, I would have refused. I had no idea the cane could be so stimulating or so wonderful.”
“I hope to open a whole new world for you.”
“You’ve already started.”
A few minutes later, she excused herself to dress while he washed up and put her playroom back in order.
Before leaving, he gave the kneeling bench one last, fond glance.
Maybe he’d buy one of those for his own personal collection.
One thing was certain, two weeks with her wouldn’t be enough.
When they met up in the living room, she’d secured her hair with a ribbon. The jeans clung to her hips, and she wore the same sexy boots.
Beneath her sweater, he made out the sight of her erect nipples. “No bra?”
“I figured you prefer it.”
If it didn’t kill him.
From across the room, her phone rang, and she found her purse to dig out the device.
“Anyone important?”
“It’s my mom.”
“You’re allowed to talk to her.” He grinned. “Unless of course you’ve misbehaved and I’ve shoved the penis gag in your mouth.”
She gasped.
The phone rang a third time, and she turned her back to him to answer.
While she said hello to her mom, he carried her bag and backpack to the car and waited for her with the engine running.
A few minutes later, she locked the front door and knotted her jacket’s belt as she walked. Every action she took radiated class and seduction. With the way she moved and her confidence, she could be a fashion model on a Paris runway.
She slid into the passenger seat. After closing the door, she turned to look at him. “Uhm…”
“Is there a problem, Catrina?”