Chapter 9 #2
“He’ll do anything. And make a mess out of it. I can’t tell you how many people have come to me for a correction or cover up of something he’s done. On top of everything else, the guy cannot spell. He sent some poor guy away with ‘respect’ spelled R-E-P-E-C-T. It was a disaster.”
Mac chuckles. “Worse than my mermaid?”
“Nothing is worse than the flounder with boobs, sir.”
“Your mouth, girl. I think it’s time to teach it some R-E-S-P-E-C-T.”
I tip my head back and nip at the hinge of his jaw. “As long as you spell it right, sir.”
“You ready to go? ‘Cause I am more than ready to claim that ass.”
I shiver against his side. “Yes, sir.”
I expect the talk about my collar to wait, but once we’re in the taxi on the way back to my place, he puts his arm around my shoulders again and flicks the leather circlet with his thumb. “Who put this on you, girl?”
“Master Logan. I finished my training under Master Damon, but he resigned before my collaring ceremony so Master Logan put it on me and gave me the rules of the collar.”
Mac humphs.
Is he going to demand I take off my collar? Sure, Logan put it on me, but it’s not Logan’s collar or anything. It’s mine. It’s the daily symbol of my submission, and belonging, and everything else that being part of Blunts means. “I’m, uh, pretty attached to it, sir.”
“I hope so. I’d be disappointed if it didn’t have meaning to you. I’m just processing how I feel about you wearing a collar Logan put on you. I wouldn’t ask you to remove it, but how would you feel about adding to it?”
A weight lifts from my chest. “I’d be good with that, sir.”
“Good. I’m gonna want to see something of mine around your throat pretty damn quick.”
I take a deep breath and let it out. How do I keep telling myself it’s just a date, just a scene, just sex when he keeps stamping permanence over everything?
“Sir, I’ve been collared before and when .
. . things didn’t work out, it was hard for me for a while.
” That’s a massive understatement. I was a complete wreck after Edz uncollared me, even though I was the one who asked him to do it.
If it wasn’t for Ruby, well, I don’t know what would have happened. “Could we, I don’t know, go slow?”
“Of course, girl. But I wouldn’t bring it up if I didn’t see things going that way.”
I swallow hard and turn my face into his neck, so he doesn’t see the mist filling my eyes. Allergies, obviously.
Mac rubs my shoulder and holds me to him for the rest of the ride to my place.
Once we get inside, I give him the two-penny tour.
Since my apartment’s only three rooms and some storage space under the eaves, it’s not worth much more.
Mac shoo-es me out of my bedroom while he gets ready.
I use the bathroom, take out all my rings and barbells the way he’s told me to, unwrap a spare toothbrush for him and leave it on the corner of the sink, and, after a long minute’s deliberation, make a safe call to Austin.
“I’m scening at my place. No monitor. With Mac. He’s staying the night. I’ll call you before I go to sleep,” I tell him after he says hello.
“You had anything to drink?” Austin asks. He sounds sleepy, even though it’s not even eleven o’clock. Maybe he had an early shoot. Or maybe Mistress Dana’s already put him through the ringer.
“Nope. Mac and I shared a hookah after dinner, but it wasn’t weed or anything. Just tobacco or whatever’s in a hookah.”
“Tobacco,” Austin confirms. “Don’t make those a regular thing. People think they’re better for you than cigarettes but they’re not. So, date, huh? Sounds like you had a fun night.”
“I did.” I really, really did.
“Anyone you want me to call if you don’t check in?”
I chew my lip while I consider. Ugh. “Master Logan. I’ve had some trouble at the shop this week, so if I don’t check in, yeah, Master Logan.”
“If Mac doesn’t end up staying the night, you want me to come over?”
“No, but thanks for the offer.”
Austin yawns audibly. “You good?”
“Yup, you?”
“Uh-huh. You joining us for drinks this week?”
Most of the Blunts house subs meet up for drinks once a week.
Until recently, it was just a showcase for the club’s reigning queen bee, Rachel, and her evil clique to gossip about everyone.
Since I’ve never wanted to breathe the same air as Rachel and her cronies, and since I gave no fucks what they said about me, I never went.
But Logan punted Rachel and her master over to New Jersey after Rachel snarled at Emily once too often.
So maybe the weekly “Sub Crawl” will be worth going to now.
“Yeah, I will. Text me the time and place.”
“Will do. G’night, B.”
“Night.”
I pop my phone in the charger and turn to see Mac leaning in the bedroom doorway.
He’s stripped down to dark boxers and I slurp up the sight of him.
Between Blunts and tattooing, I’ve seen a lot of different bodies.
Mac’s isn’t a young man’s body. He’s still hard and muscular, but there’s something weathered about him.
Like he’s sculpted from granite instead of marble.
His body has a density to it, like his stomach where he has a solid slab of muscle instead of a six-pack.
His skin is grooved in places that invite exploration with my lips and tongue.
There are tracings of silvered hair on his chest and thighs that I want to feel prickle my fingertips.
Can a man’s body have character? Mac’s does.
He watches me drink him in for a moment before his mouth kicks up in a smile. “Safe call, sweetheart?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I might not always want you to feel safe with me, but I always want you to be safe. Understand the difference?”
“I do, sir.” I cross the room to him, giving in to the pull of those summer-sky eyes.
He lifts his hand, a blindfold dangling from two long fingers. “Feel safe enough with me when we’re alone to use this?”
“Yes, sir.” I stop in front of him and turn around so he can put the blindfold on me.
Losing my sight always expands my other senses.
I become hyper aware of the small sounds of Mac’s movement as he ties the blindfold, the deep rush of his breathing, even the very faint tick of his watch.
He trails his fingertips down my neck after he seats the blindfold, then envelops me in a hug from behind, crossing his forearms over my ribs.
The warmth of his body encloses me. The rich scent of him chases away the last trace of mint in my nose.
After realizing why Ten wasn’t trying for any connection with me, being immersed in Mac when we’re about to have sex—at fucking last!
—isn’t just a turn on, it fills some of those empty, cold places inside me.
I tip my head back onto his shoulder and smile blindly up at him. “Hey, sir.”
He nuzzles my temple. “Hey, bold girl. I like the way you feel in my arms. I’ve been enjoying it all day. I think we might need a repeat or two of having me at your beck and call.”
“You’ll be my Beck and Call Top?”
He nips my ear. “Seems only fair since you’re going to be giving me your ass on a daily basis.”
“Did we agree that, sir?”
I’m totally up for it if we did; I just don’t remember that discussion.
“That’s going to the top of my list of rules for you.”
“Do I ever get to see this list, or am I just supposed to guess?”
He releases my ribs, sweeps a hand up my front, and pushes two fingers into my mouth.
“So much sass out of such a little mouth,” he growls in my ear. “I think it’s time to put it to better use.”
Sucking? Moaning? Those seem like better uses. I’d even be good with screaming as long as it’s the orgasmic kind.
I suck lightly on his fingers. “Mmmokay, srr.”
“You’ve had my cock in that eager slut mouth plenty today, girl, so you’re not getting it in that hole tonight. For tonight only, you have permission to lick, suck, and kiss me anywhere else. You can mark me. I want your mouth full of my taste while I have my cock in your other holes.”
It doesn’t matter that he’s blindfolded me because my eyes roll back at his filthy talk. Fuuuck.
“Before I bind your hands, take off your clothes except those tights. I’ll buy you another pair, but they’re getting ruined. I’ve been waiting for hours to tear them apart.”
“Yssr.” I’d usually be tense and grumpy about ruining perfectly good clothes, but I want him to fuck me so bad, at this point I wouldn’t argue with him if he wanted to trash everything I’m wearing. My tights? He can shred them to ladders as long as he sticks his dick in me sometime soon.
I pull the dress off over my head, getting stuck when Mac doesn’t take his fingers out of my mouth. I drape the dress over his wrist before I unhook and shed my bra. I can’t see where it lands; I don’t care. I just want to get naked so this man will finally give me some damn D.
“Have you gone commando since I told you to, my very dirty girl?”
“Yssr.” I probably should have stopped following his rules after he ditched me and went off to find his daughter, but I couldn’t bring myself to.
I even kept a little list on my phone of the times I felt vulnerable during the week the way he told me to but fuck if I’m giving him that unless he asks for it.
“That’s my goddess. So deserving of worship.
” His warm lips brush my shoulder, slip up my throat and along my jaw.
My knees go liquid at hearing him call me his goddess again.
His fingers slide out of my mouth and I hear the soft swoosh of my dress falling to the floor.
Then he pushes his wet fingers down under the waistband of my tights, over my tummy and mons, and hooks them in the fabric at my crotch.
His other hand plucks at my thigh. The tights bite at the back of my legs as he pulls his hands apart.
The tortured rip of fabric precedes the kiss of cool air on my pussy, and then my ass cheeks as he tears the tights to the back waistband.
I shiver at the sensation. “Should I wear crotchless tights next time, sir?”