Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen
Damien’s words, combined with the delicious twinge from his bite, made her pussy tighten. He turned her on in ways no one else ever had.
She opened her eyes to find him staring not just at her, but seemingly inside her. The intensity of the blue chilled her, as if his were made of ice.
He was breathtakingly handsome, and she itched to pull that leather strip from his hair and run her fingers through its thick length.
As he’d planned, he’d turned her idea of submission inside out then he’d dumped it upside down. He made her question everything she’d thought she knew and had assumed.
She used D/s to keep her emotions separate from those of other people. He used it to pry inside. In ways she could never have imagined, he terrified her.
What happened at the end of the two weeks when she went back to her home in Washington Park? If she gave Damien what he wanted, what he demanded, she’d be stripped bare emotionally.
He’d go on with his life as if this had been nothing more than a diversion.
Although she’d hoped to drive home by herself, she’d enjoyed the short trip more than she expected, thanks to his company. Breakfast was wonderful, and so was grabbing a coffee to go. Having him be part of the foursome at lunch had made the time more tolerable. His little touches had helped keep her calm.
His silent strength and support would be normal in a real relationship, but she hadn’t expected it from a temporary Dominant.
For the next couple of hours, while she was wondering what truly was next, they discussed mundane things.
She told him more about her business, and he answered questions that she’d had while he was talking to her mother and Milton earlier.
When she yawned, he said, “Let’s go to bed.”
Finally.
“Since I didn’t pack any pajamas for you, you can borrow another of my T-shirts.”
While he tidied up, she showered.
He was holding a towel for her when she stepped out.
“Thank you.” She lifted her arms, and he wrapped it around her.
Sharing a bathroom was strangely intimate, but she didn’t hate it.
He’d taken off his shirt, but his hair was still held back. His enormous biceps rippled tantalizingly as he moved.
The man was a paradox.
Damien possessed both enormous strength and resolve, yet he also displayed infinite tenderness. And with her mom and Milton, he’d been both kind and engaging.
And when they’d played at her home earlier…
It would have been easy for him to have used too much force with the cane, but he hadn’t. Instead, every motion had been deliberate. Though his swats had stung a little, he’d aroused her to a fever pitch.
Their time together was changing her.
She just wished she knew whether or not it was for the best.
“Everything okay?”
Catrina shook her head to clear it. Spending too much time in her thoughts was not good for her. “Fine. I’m good.”
With a nod, he left for a moment to grab a T-shirt from his closet, and she slipped it over her still damp and warm body.
After combing out her hair, she braided it while she sat cross-legged on the bed waiting for him.
“Don’t think I’m not onto you,” he said as he entered the room.
“I’m sorry?” She scooted against the headboard.
He stood only feet away, arms folded, naked, cock half-hard, legs spread about shoulder-width apart.
Naked, he was powerfully intimidating.
“Dropping your towel and clothes on the floor and leaving them.”
“I apologize.” When she’d done it, she’d been hoping to capture his attention, anything to shatter the angsty knot of emotion that crawled through her. “I’m afraid I can be a bit messy.”
“No you’re not. I visited your house, remember? Lived-in with magazines and all kinds of…stuff, but your dirty clothes were in a hamper and all of your toiletries were put away.”
“Ah…”
“Are you hoping for a spanking?”
That,she understood.
“I’ll let you think about it for a while,” he said.
She exhaled a shaky, frustrated breath.
“We’ll talk about it more before we agree on how we handle it.”
Talking.His favorite punishment. “About that…”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Why don’t we just get it over with?” The physical sensation would have to settle her.
“We will.” He let his words hang in the air. “As soon as I say so. Ready for bed?”
Being with him was one of the most confounding experiences of her life.
He folded back the comforter then helped her beneath a blanket before turning off the lamp. “Come to me, Catrina.”
Finally.
When he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her, she said, “There’s no lesson for this evening?”
“You’ve already had it.”
Frowning, wishing it wasn’t dark so she could read his features, she said, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“The mundaneness of the afternoon and evening. Those are the moments where trust and intimacy are built.”
“You frustrate me.”
“Milady, I assure you the feeling is mutual. Now, rest.”
“I don’t snuggle, Damien.”
“You do now.”
“But—”
“Go to sleep.”
His grip was unbreakable.
Less than two minutes later, his breathing pattern changed, indicating he was already asleep. How was that even possible?
Sighing, she started to inch away from him, but his hold tightened.
“Stop, my beautiful Catrina,” he murmured against her ear. “This is a battle you can’t win.” To reinforce his point, he swung a leg over hers, trapping her in place.
Pinned, but oddly comforted, she gave in.
Today had been long, and nothing had gone the way she’d planned, from him dominating her in her house, caning her feet, meeting Milton, and introducing Damien to her mother, to spending the evening chatting in front of the fireplace.
And the next morning, when she opened her eyes, blinking against the bright sunlight pouring into the room, she was alone in the bed.
Placing her elbows beneath her, she lifted her head. “I think I’m seeing things,” she said. “A Celtic god, maybe.”
Did I say that out loud?
But that’s what Damien reminded her of.
Light radiated around him, playing off his raven-dark hair and bright blue eyes.
Then she noticed something even more relevant—he was holding two cups of coffee. “Are you sharing?”
“Potentially.”
“I’m willing to sell my soul.”
“In that case, yeah.” He lifted a cup as he started toward her. “This one has your name on it.”
The mattress sank under his weight as he sat near her. “I didn’t know whether to let you sleep or wake you up.”
“Caffeine is always the right choice. And it’s Monday, so I need to get to work.” She accepted the handle and allowed the steam to bathe her face before taking the first sip of bliss. “But I guess I think I should be doing that for you.”
“If you’re up first, you’re welcome to. But ensuring your happiness is a priority to me. You matter to me, Catrina.”
Despite her wariness, he was systematically demolishing her resistance.
“I have a conference call with London in ten minutes. You’re welcome to use your office or relax here. I can keep the call on my earbuds so as to disturb you as little as possible.”
“I don’t have any calls for a couple of hours,” she said. “So don’t worry about disturbing me.”
“I’ll see you in a while.” With a wicked grin, he stood. “Even though this area is soundproof, don’t think I won’t know if you masturbate.”
She hadn’t even considered it. Now it was the only thing she could think about.
With a nod, he left.
If Catrina hadn’t been afraid of spilling her coffee, she would have thrown a pillow at his retreating back.
After draining her cup, she took a quick shower to finish waking up.
Beneath the spray, standing there, soaping her body in the steamy warmth, her thoughts returned to Damien…
The way he touched her, spanked her, used the cane and flogger on her heated body, tormenting, licking her pussy until she grabbed his hair and forgot how to breathe.
She ached to slide her fingers between her folds to relieve her sexual tension…
“Don’t do it.”
Her knees weakened.
How did he do that?
“Your orgasms are mine to give or deny.” To reinforce his point, he reached in to turn down the hot water, cooling the temperature as well as her desire.
The chill made her yelp. “Don’t you have a call to take, or a company to acquire, something other than bothering me?”
“Beautiful nipples.” He ignored her question completely. “Make sure you get them very clean.”
Moments later, she was alone again.
Defiantly, she notched up the hot water again and enjoyed her last few minutes, even though she avoided touching herself.
After rinsing off, she discovered he’d left a fresh cup of coffee on the counter.
How could he be simultaneously annoying and tempting?
Half an hour later, she was dressed, had her hair in a messy bun, and caffeine had sharpened her mind.
Because she’d been denied an orgasm, her pussy seemed to throb.
Why hadn’t he made love to her last night or this morning?
On the other hand, because he’d held her so comfortingly, she’d enjoyed one of the best nights’ sleep ever.
Changing her mind about her outfit, she went back to her closet. Instead of jeans and a T-shirt, she wore a skirt and heels, stockings, and a garter belt.
Anything for his attention.
She sighed as she checked her reflection in the mirror.
Positive attention, she amended.
Before leaving their suite, she hung up her towel and dumped her discarded clothing into a hamper.
In the kitchen, a full pot of coffee stood on its burner.
Having someone else handle this chore was a blessing.
Maybe being here wasn’t all bad.
Fresh cup of happiness in hand, she walked confidently to their shared office area.
When she arrived, breath whooshed from her lungs.
Over the years, she’d seen Damien at his sexy best, in leather, in a suit and tie.
Nothing had prepared her for this.
He stood in front of the monitors. One screen showed a glossy conference room table, presumably in England. The other was filled with the face of an aging, attractive gentleman, his tie loosened and askew. His face was drawn in tight lines that radiated his displeasure.
“I do understand, Malcolm, but that’s my best, final offer. Look around you. I think the rest of the board will agree you have no choice but to accept.”
A pulse ticked in the other man’s temple.
Damien was a fucking badass. A hot, fucking badass.
His hair was secured at his nape, and his shoulders were pulled back. He was resolved, unshakable.
Little shivers danced through her.
Now she wished she’d masturbated in the shower, even if she risked his wrath.
She stayed toward the back of the room, out of view as she crossed to her own desk. Obviously having noticed her, he acknowledged her with a tight nod.
While she powered up her computer, she surreptitiously watched Damien in action.
Gregorio, she assumed, had provided everything else she’d need—a printer, paper, notepads, an assortment of pens, even a purple stapler.
A few moments later, his tone clipped, Damien delivered a deadline. “And you won’t get a moment longer.” With that, he pressed a button to end the call.
As she was checking her email, he joined her.
“Everything in order?”
“Yes, thanks.”
“Let Gregorio know if you need anything else.”
“Does he live here? Work here?” How little did she really know about the Den’s second-in-command?
“He’s around, at times.”
His vague answer only intrigued her more.
“Join me for breakfast?”
“Sounds great.”
In their shared kitchen, he prepared omelets with fresh veggies, and he whipped up a protein smoothie. That terrible-looking green thing with no fruit, she passed on.
Afterward, she offered to clean the kitchen. “To make up for the mess I left last night.”
“Apology accepted.”
“Really?” she asked over her shoulder as she rinsed a plate. He was at the table, long legs stretched in front of him.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t or won’t deliver a secondary punishment at my discretion.”
“I thought the fact you didn’t let me masturbate in the shower was your chastisement.”
“No. Simply an order because it pleased me. That’s my prerogative.”
A few minutes later, Gregorio gave a courtesy knock on the doorjamb as he entered. “Got coffee?”
This felt so…normal. It occurred to her she’d had no idea what happened at the Den during the week. She’d always figured the two showed up before an event and threw open the door for the debauchery to begin.
“Am I interrupting, Boss?”
“Come in,” Damien invited.
As always, Gregorio radiated sex appeal. Even though it was a Monday, his diamond earring winked in the overhead light. As always, he was in all black.
Evidently his attire wasn’t just an image he projected, it was part of who he was. All in all, this wasn’t a bad place to work and spend two weeks.
“Morning, Milady,” he said. “I like the fact you look like you could run a company but you’re up to your elbows in soap suds.”
“Damien cooked. So I’m cleaning.”
“I think we have a French maid’s outfit in the storeroom,” Gregorio told Damien.
“Now there’s a hell of an idea.”
She dropped the silverware into the basket in the dishwasher with a horrific clatter.
“Bring it up,” Damien said.
“No.” She held up a hand as she turned to face the men. “Absolutely not.”
Gregorio grinned, and the motion looked calculatedly diabolical.
“You seem delighted with yourself,” she snapped out.
“I’m picturing it right now. My place needs to be dusted.”
“Aren’t you a switch?” she asked him.
“Oh, yeah.”
“Then I’ll get even with you for this.”
“I’ll bare my ass for you, Milady. As long as you don’t hit like a girl.”
“We can go downstairs anytime you are ready, Gregorio.” And she would definitely be meting out a punishment rather than a pleasure beating.
“Boss?”
Damien put his cup on the table with a firm smack. “Fuck off.”
“Figured.” Shrugging easily, he poured himself a cup of coffee, refilled Damien’s, then held up the pot near Catrina, as if it were a peace offering.
“With cream.” She dried her hands on a towel. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I have work to do.” She grabbed her cup on the way out of the kitchen.
Settling into her chair didn’t help her focus.
The entire space pulsed with Damien’s presence, unnerving her.
Setting her jaw, she responded to her emails.
He didn’t come into their shared office space until much later, when she was on a phone call with a client.
As he had before, he gave her a silent greeting before taking a seat behind his own desk.
They lunched together, without Gregorio, then returned to work.
Being this close to Damien, hearing the modulated tones of his voice, even if she couldn’t make out the exact words, gave her a little thrill.
He looked at her numerous times, not interrupting, but letting her know he was aware of her.
Mid-afternoon, he approached her desk. “You dressed that way on purpose. After I told you not to play with yourself in the shower.”
No sense in denying the truth. “Yes.”
“Provocatively.”
In silent agreement, she inclined her head to one side.
“What were you hoping I’d do to you?” When she sat back, once again without replying, he continued, “Hike up your skirt?”
Her breath caught.
He placed his palms on her desktop and leaned in, close, so close, marking her space as his.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t look away from his intense eyes.
“Maybe run my hand between your legs?”
She blinked, unable to answer.
“Finger your pussy?”
Her mouth dried.
“Spank your ass?”
Catrina inhaled his scent, that of leather and power.
“Maybe fuck you?”
“Damien…”
“Answer me.”
He was so forceful, he compelled an answer. “All of those,” she confessed breathlessly.
His power play did a number on her brain. Never knowing what he’d say, how he’d react or when he’d approach her kept her on edge. She hated the uncertainty.
The more he denied her, the more she craved his touch.
“Can you take a break from your work?”
When she nodded, he said, “Please stand.”
No matter what he had in store, she wanted it.
Each moment with him brought her closer and closer to total submission.
Slowly, she rolled back her chair then followed his instruction as she waited for him to speak again.
He crooked his finger then pointed at a spot on the floor right in front of him.
Captivated, she went to him.
“I may ban jeans from our workspace.” He lifted the hem of her skirt. “Though I’d be stupid to if I want to get any business accomplished.”
At the barest brush of skin on skin, she became wet.
“Love the stockings,” he said. He traced one of the garters upward, bypassing her pussy to skim her belly.
She could barely breathe.
“You’ve been seducing me all day, Milady.”
“I’ve seduced you, Damien?”
“Is it mutual?”
You know it is.
His motions deliberate, he unbuttoned her shirt and caressed her breasts through her bra. If this was part of submission, she liked it.
Her body zinged with anticipation.
Though he didn’t linger anywhere, he studied her intently as he moved between her legs. “You can come anytime, Milady.”
“I need it,” she said.
“I know. I know.”
She suspected he really did.
Catrina allowed her head to fall forward to rest on his broad chest. He brought her off slowly.
She cried out as the orgasm snuck up, knocking her off balance.
He was there to catch her.
Before she knew what was happening, he had her folded across the desk.
“Grab the other side.”
Breath knocked out of her, she complied. Yes. She wanted, needed him.
A rustling reached her, but when she turned her head, Catrina couldn’t see what he was doing.
Then before she was ready, he rubbed her ass hard then scorched it with what had to be his belt.
She yelped.
“There’s a price to be had for your misbehavior.”
“I’ll gladly pay it, Damien.” Again and again.
This was better than being ignored and having orgasms denied.
He spanked her once more.
Her Dominant wasn’t landing hard strokes, just ones with enough force to get her attention. But on top of yesterday’s caning, it didn’t take much to ignite her senses.
“Don’t let go,” he instructed.
The orgasm he’d given her minutes ago didn’t make this any easier. She was aroused and hungry again.
“Your ass is so red, Milady. Made for my belt.”
She loved this.
Now she understood why her boys asked for certain implements rather than others. Each—his hand, belt, cane, flogger—created a different sting or sear…satisfying emotional as well as physical needs.
His leather, with the way it covered so much of her skin, suited her.
Swimming through a minefield of sensation, she lost count of the strokes.
Nothing existed but her and Damien, the numbness of her fingers where she gripped the desk, and the dampness of the wood where her tears marred the surface.
She barely registered that it had ended, but she felt his cock at her entrance.
“Say it, Catrina.”
“Damien…”
“Tell me what you want. Beg me to give it to you, like the perfect little submissive you are.”
He demanded a lot. Maybe too much.
One more, he striped her, leaving her panting.
“Say it, Catrina. Or shall we end this here and now?”