Chapter 4 #2
Mara rose, weaving through the crowd in the dining room. On weekends, catering was brought in from a five-star restaurant in Malibu for dinner and brunch. She rarely ate here, and had forgotten how good the food was.
She added more grilled veggies to her plate as well as a scoop of beet salad with goat cheese and a tart dressing.
Adding a small ramekin of the horseradish set out by the steak, she returned to the table, passing Cole his sauce.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, but it was not as stiff as the silence that lay over the table when they first started eating.
He finished before her since he’d started with one heaped plate rather than going back for seconds. He took a sip from the glass of red wine he’d gotten to go with the steak and studied her.
Mara fumbled a little, uneasy with being watched. Spearing the bit of squash that had just fallen off her fork, she said, “So unrestrained means less elaborate scenes.”
“Not necessarily.”
“But you mentioned the prep.”
“That’s just an example. I knew that the next time I saw you, what I needed was to fuck you hard and fast, no prep, no negotiations.”
Her fork clattered as she dropped it, but Mara didn’t pick it back up, her skin tingling in response to his words.
“What you needed was a man to treat you like a pretty little sex slave, push you against the wall, and fuck you, in place of hello.”
“That’s…”
“Am I wrong, Mara?”
“No,” she breathed, her nipples hard and tight behind the heavily embroidered material of her corset.
“Talk, Brown Eyes.”
It was the pet name as much as the command that allowed the words to flow.
“I had a horrible vision of myself beaten bloody, emotionally raw from degradation, tied up in one of the courtyards with ‘freeuse’ written on my ass, getting fucked by any member of the club who wandered by.” Honesty compelled her to add, “There are elements of that scenario that I find appealing, but the whole of it would break me, even if I submitted willingly.”
“Where is the Dom in that scenario?”
“What do you mean?”
“Where was I while you were getting fucked by random club members?”
“You…weren’t there.”
Cole snorted. “Brown Eyes, if I decide to make you a freeuse slave, I’d be right there inviting people to come play with your holes, but also protecting what’s mine.”
“Isn’t the definition of freeuse that permission isn’t needed?”
He lifted one shoulder. “I might be too possessive for freeuse.” Cole sat forward. “That scenario isn’t what I meant by unrestrained.”
Before she could ask about what else he considered unrestrained, he asked, “How do you feel about what we did?” He tipped his head toward the door.
“I felt submissive, but also wanted.”
One brow rose. “You don’t normally feel wanted in scenes.”
“I rarely get to scene.” She licked her lips. “Is what you said last night true? That the other Doms think I’m a Domme and that’s why no one plays with me?”
“That’s what I was told.”
Mara’s gaze slid away. She glanced around the room. There were subs kneeling and being fed by hand. A couple in puppy masks fucking each other.
“They’re fucking idiots.”
Mara jerked her attention back to Cole.
“The other Doms,” he clarified. “Not the fucking puppies.”
The phrasing made her choke out a laugh, and he too smiled but sobered quickly.
“You’re sexually submissive. No question there.”
“I’m glad you could tell,” she said quietly.
“I’m wondering if no one gets to the point of fucking you and that’s why they don’t get to see you really submit.”
“I’m always perfectly submissive in a scene,” she protested. “I don’t brat or try and top from the bottom.”
“Ah, but what about the look in those pretty brown eyes?”
“What are you talking about?”
Cole leaned forward. “There’s this look in your eyes like you know.”
Know what? But she didn’t ask, not sure she wanted the answer.
He answered anyway.
“Like you know how to take control and if, when, you do, everything will fall in line because you’re just that good.”
“That’s…” She stared at him, feeling helpless.
“You’re like a professor who just asked a question and now, you’re looking at everyone, waiting to see if they’re smart enough to figure out the answer. You’ll let them try, but if they’re wrong or do it badly, you’ll step in.”
“I don’t mean that,” she nearly pleaded. “I don’t do it on purpose.”
“I didn’t think you were. If I had to guess, I’d say that when you do scene, even if you’re perfectly submissive, the Masters you’re with sense that you’re just playing along and not really submitting.”
Frustration bubbled through her. “Then what do I do? How do I—” She bit off her words, taking slow breaths. “Maybe I’m one of the people who should leave the club rather than play the game.”
“If you want to leave, go,” Cole said with a negligent shrug that made her want to both cry and slap him. “But I think unrestrained is exactly what you need. You don’t need rules and well-planned scenes. You need to be fucked.”
The heat of anger shifted to another kind of heat. The effect of his words must have shown on his face because Cole grinned that slow Cheshire cat smile.
“You misbehave? Punishment fuck. You’re a good girl? Reward fuck.”
“BDSM is about more than just sex. Sex isn’t even the main part of it for most people.” She wasn’t sure why she was arguing, because she wanted what he’d just described. Wanted it desperately.
“And if that’s how you’ve been playing, it explains the problem.”
“So unrestrained just means sex? Or means just sex?”
“No. It means treating you like a sub who needs to be used and fucked whenever and however I want.”
Arousal so sharp it was almost painful made her muscles tight and mouth dry. Mara swallowed hard.
“Open those pretty eyes.”
Slowly, Mara lifted her lashes and looked at him.
“Tell me I’m wrong and you don’t want this.”
“You’re not, and I think you know I do. But I fail to see what this has to do with unrestrained.”
He stabbed the last chunk of steak, studying her as he chewed. “Pick another ‘U’ word,” he said after swallowing.
“Oh, well.” She paused to think. “Uncontrolled. Unrestricted. Unlimited. Uninhibited. Untamed. Unquenchable.”
“Unrestricted and unlimited use of an untamed sub I’m going to use and fuck until she’s uninhibited.”
She swallowed hard.
He smirked, the expression infuriating yet sexy. His gaze skimmed down her chest. Her nipples were hard, still aching faintly from abuse, and she had no idea if he could see that, given the tightness of the corset and overlay of appliqués.
Cole headed for the buffet, and she took a few deep breaths to center herself while he got more food.
When he returned, it wasn’t with food but a mug, which he passed to her.
“Drink.”
“Is it…poison?”
He let out a surprised snort of amusement. “If it was, I wouldn’t tell you. If you think I’d poison you, walk out that door.”
She sniffed the cup. Mint. “You might have a poisoning fetish.”
“Don’t think that’s a thing.”
“If it exists, someone has a sex fetish about it,” she countered before taking a small sip. Peppermint tea. She blew to cool it a little and took another sip.
“Rule 34 refers to porn, not fetish.”
She raised her brows, looking at him over the top of her mug as she took a drink.
He snorted again, relaxing back in his chair as he studied her, two fingers tapping the tabletop, but it wasn’t impatient.
When she’d drunk half of her probably-not-poisoned tea, she asked, “Why did you make me tea?”
“Because I shoved my cock down your throat an hour ago. I’m betting it’s sore. Thought the tea would help.”
Mara stilled, mouth open, cup halfway to her lips. That was considerate bordering on…sweet.
When the cup was empty, she set it down, feeling oddly off-balance. It was just physical aftercare, no different than the way he’d checked her knees when they first sat down for dinner. But it felt different.
“How’s your throat?”
“Good, thank you.”
He pushed back from the table and stood. “Alright, Brown Eyes, let’s go.”