6. Chapter 6
Jinx
I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing here.
I know what Mason wants. It definitely intrigues me.
But what will I get out of this? A distraction, I guess.
And he said I’d get some power back. Still, I’ve fought off being with men for years.
Why Mason? And can I let myself be dominated again?
I liked it well enough with Phillip, but I’m not sure how much of that was eagerness to please him just to get away from Tito.
It felt like a hundred years ago, when it was only five.
Mason grabs my overnight bag, and I follow him up the stairs. The house has a myriad of windows. No matter which way you look, you see the mountains, valleys, and meadows. Snow is just starting to fall, not yet dusting the ground.
“Are you hungry, Jinx?” he asks when we reach the top of the stairs.
“A little.”
“I’ll make us some dinner when we wrap this up, and you’ll help me.”
“Do you want me cooking naked?” I bite my bottom lip and wait for his response.
He turns to face me with an unreadable expression. His hand cups my jaw, but he doesn’t hurt me. I haven’t once felt threatened by him, except for that first time when he pushed me against the building. “You’re going to test me often; I can feel it.”
“That’s not a no.”
His hazel eyes dance and shimmer, but he doesn’t smile. “I don’t want any injuries. We will go over a list of requirements for you to prove your submission to me… after you fill out your form.”
“How often will I be here?”
“Oh, you will be submissive while you’re at home as well.”
“What fun is that?”
“Rewards are fun.
“True.”
“But yes, I will require you to be here at least two times a week. You pick which days. Talk to your employer, Julien.”
“Family. Julien is family.”
Mason drops his hand and nods. “Talk to him to make sure which days you can be here. I will be sure to have those days off from work as well.”
He turns and heads down the hall and stops in front of a closed door. He opens it and steps aside. “This will be your room whenever you’re here.”
The room is huge, as expected. It’s mostly creams and whites, with reclaimed wood beams in the ceiling. The furniture is rustic yet elegant. It even has its own fireplace. Cool. “Where are all the chains, handcuffs, and whips?”
“In my dungeon.”
My brows shoot up, and I grin. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I am. I only use a few tools. Hanging my subs from rafters and using painful tools on them isn’t what I enjoy. Impact play, yes, but nothing dramatic. It’s all about your submission. The openness and trust. That’s what I truly enjoy.”
I step up to him and rest my palm on his solid chest, as I’d done earlier. “Do I call you ‘Daddy’?”
“If you wish.”
“Are you going to call me ‘boy’?”
“No.”
I tilt my head and bite my bottom lip. “Bummer.”
“We may have an age gap between us, but I’m not into age play. You choose a name to call me. While you’re my submissive, you will use that name at all times, so choose wisely. Or you can just call me Mr. Vitali. You will not call me Mason unless we’re in public.
This time he pinches my chin a little more forcefully. “And no more sex-worker persona. This is your last warning. I need the real Jinx to submit, not someone he’s been trained to be.”
Honestly, I want to submit to him. It sounds fun, but it’s even more fun to push his buttons. I tilt my head down and take his thumb into my mouth. I look up at him as I suckle it. His hazel eyes are instantly blown black. Fuck, he looks like a demon. Hot.
“You are testing my limits and patience, Jinx.”
I only suck harder.
“Brat,” he rasps, yanking his thumb out of my mouth, and in one movement, I’m suddenly flung over his shoulder and dropped onto the bed.
My heart skips a beat, and my body is filled with a combination of residual fear and excitement.
I’m on my back, and he rests a knee on one side of me, towering, imposing. He’s so much bigger than I am. “Are you really so eager for a spanking, brat?”
I shrug one shoulder. “Maybe.” Pushing his buttons and watching him react is fun.
“We have not met our agreement yet. I will not be pushed by you or anyone before it’s time. Do you understand? But make no mistake, as soon as we’re ready, you will pay for this.”
Mason drags his thumb across my bottom lip, eyeing me like I’m his last meal before he’s standing straight, smoothing out his shirt.
“I’ve changed my mind. You’ll fill out your paperwork while I get dinner started. Then you’ll help me finish cooking.”
He turns his back on me and walks out. I sit up on my hands, huff, then fold my arms like a petulant child. I guess I’ll have to wait to see what’s in store for me. He has more patience than I credited him with. Phillip would’ve laid right into me for it.
While we’ve all learned to cook at the ranch instead of hiring staff, eating a meal from Mason Vitali is otherworldly. He’s not even a chef that I’m aware of, but, fuck, he can cook.
I’ve never had Cioppino or been a big seafood eater, but this is pretty delicious. I dig out a mussel from its shell, dunk it in the tomato sauce while Mason slowly chews on some bread and reads my checklist of dos and don’ts.
“Where in Italy is this recipe from?” I ask.
His eyes never leave the paper. “San Francisco. It originated there but was created by Italians who immigrated to California. The area is surrounded by water and fish, so they made a dish that could feed a family cheaply with leftover seafood that wasn’t sold in the market.”
“It’s really good.”
Mason’s eyes finally glance at me before he’s back to reading. “Thank you.”
He finally sets down my checklist, lifts his wineglass, and swirls around the red liquid. “You are absolutely certain you wish to do the things you’ve checked off?”
“Yep.”
“‘Yessir,’” he corrects.
“Yessir.”
“We will use the traffic light method of consent. Red means stop, clearly. Green means continue. Yellow means proceed with caution, at which point I’ll continue to check on you for red or green.”
I reach for the bread, butter it, and take a bite. “Okay… err, yessir.” When I swallow my bite, I ask, “What will I have to do and what will you do?”
“As I’ve said, impact play is part of it.
I’ll use it as punishment, but I won’t ever harm you.
But I have other methods of punishment. Determining which works best for you is part of the challenge and fun.
While you are with me, you will help me keep the place clean, you’ll help take care of the stables, and you will pleasure and please me.
There will be times I’ll treat you like an object, keep you on a leash, make you sleep at my feet by the fire.
Things like that. Are you okay with all those things? ”
“Yessir.”
He smiles sweetly at my obedience, which makes my heart race a little and my cheeks flush. Weird.
“Your rewards can be whatever you want. Small rewards will be hugs, kisses, holding you. Larger rewards can be sexual pleasure or taking you out to do something you wish to do, like a date. It can even be in the form of a gift.”
Now that I can get on board with.
“You won’t mind taking someone so much younger out on a date?”
Mason waves a dismissive hand and finishes chewing his bite of bread. “People will talk no matter who I date.”
“What happens when I’m not with you?”
“I’ll give instructions as needed. I will periodically text you with orders, and you’ll take pictures as proof.”
I take a bite of shrimp, finish chewing, and wash it down with watered-down red wine. “When do we start?”
“After dinner.”
My stomach dips strangely again. Honestly, I don’t usually get excited about things these days, whether it’s sexual or fun, except for riding my horse. But this is different. This has all my curiosity neurons firing.
“Tell me, Jinx. What do you hope to achieve from this? Think really hard. Be honest.”
“Not to be afraid,” I blurt, which surprises even me, so much so that my eyes water again and I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. “I want to… hand myself to someone and just… let go. I want to reclaim my body.”
Mason holds his wineglass in two hands, watching me. His eyes soften. “Thank you for being honest and vulnerable, Jinx.”
“Can I ask you what you get out of it?”
“To feel in control. I was raised to obey everything. For years, I always felt out of control, like my life wasn’t my own.
I’m also turned on by a relationship built on high trust. Giving someone, such as yourself, absolute protection and having you fully trust me is a massive turn-on.
I enjoy…” Mason swirls around his wine again and takes another sip. “…being worshiped and needed.”
I guess that makes sense. “Will you tell me what started it all one day?”
“Of course.”
Mason stands, towering over me, and pinches my chin as he’d done earlier. “I will be controlling you often by your throat and jaw. Is this okay?”
“Yes.”
“You will be greatly rewarded for your good behavior. I’m sure you’ll be eager to please me. And after sex, if we have sex, I’ll worship you in return by using aftercare, one of my favorite parts.”
My dick likes the idea of being worshiped. “I like that.”
“Tell me, Jinx. Have you ever had someone just make love to you?”
I shake my head. I’ve made love to my girlfriends, but no one’s ever loved my body back.
“Would you like to do that before we get started?”
I think about it, staring into his eyes because he’s forcing me to. “I’d like it as a reward.”
A crooked smile forms on his face, and his eyes gleam with pleasure. “We can certainly do that.” He leans in, and when I think he’s about to kiss me, he whispers in my ear. “Clean the kitchen thoroughly, then meet me on the enclosed porch with a brandy for me.”
“Yessir,” I breathe, begging him to kiss me.
Instead, he pulls back and walks out of the kitchen.
As soon as he’s out of sight, I stand and completely strip out of my clothes. I may have to obey him, but he said nothing about staying dressed.
After I fold my clothes neatly and set them on the chair, I gather all the dishes and dump everything into the sink. While those soak, I put away the food, throw away the garbage, and clean the counters.
Scrubbing dishes is not my idea of fun. Not one bit. I help keep things clean back home because I owe Julien fucking everything. Hell, I owe him my life. But now, it will be about pleasure.
Once the dishwasher is loaded and running, I wash my hands and dig through his cocktail bar, pulling out a glass and filling it with the brandy sitting out in the open. I hope that’s the one he likes. Then I go in search of Mason, although I’m not sure where the enclosed porch is.
It takes me a minute to find him. He’s sitting in a cushioned chair next to a fire pit with a metal chimney going up through the roof. I open the glass door and step out onto the cold slate floor. It’s chillier than inside his house, and my naked skin breaks out in goosebumps.
When I hand him his glass, he sees my nakedness but doesn’t react. No punishment. No reward. No reaction at all.
Well, shit.
He finally looks up at me. “Why are you naked, Jinx? You can’t taunt me, tease me, push me to do something out of my control.”
I shrug. “I like being naked.” It’s not a lie. I’m often naked at home.
Mason nods and sips his drink. “Makes sense if you’re trying to reclaim your body.”
Huh. I haven’t thought about it like that.
He scans my body again and reaches for my stomach, touching me with delicate fingers. “How many stitches?” he asks.
I’m too exposed. Too vulnerable. Regret fills me that I chose to seduce him.
When I don’t answer, he looks up at me with demanding eyes.
“Twenty-seven.”
“Jesus,” he grits before taking another sip of brandy. “Do you have more, or just this one?”
I turn my back to him and let him explore my skin. My fists are tight at my sides, but I don’t move or hide myself. It was my damn fault for coming out here nude in the first place.
His fingers graze my skin, touching each scar that I’ve accumulated over the years, from Tito to the johns.
“How did you get these?”
“The one on my stomach is from my handler, Tito. He stabbed me in a fit of drunken rage once. Aleks sewed me up. The others are from him and clients who don’t want to just fuck, but to find someone to take out their frustrations on.”
He sighs heavily. “This is giving me second thoughts, Jinx,” he whispers. “Perhaps this was a mistake.”
I whirl around on him. “No! You said this has to be built on trust. Here I am, trusting you. You need to trust that I filled out your forms honestly.”
Mason calmly sets his glass down on the table next to him, and before I know it, he’s yanked me over his lap, his hand resting on my ass.
“If you want me to change my mind, you will beg me. You do not order me.” He follows that up with several smacks on my ass.
It stings a lot, but it’s not so painful that I won’t be able to sit. My dick responds, too.
Does that mean he’s on board with this?
He lets me stand, and I don’t touch my ass. Something tells me to keep my hands at my sides. Meanwhile, my cock stands at full attention.
“Beg me,” he demands. “If you beg sufficiently, I will continue this with you. Prove to me you want this.”
Fuck me.