Chapter Twenty-Seven
Max
Picking her up, I spin Sutton around in my lap, then place her legs on either side of my own. A tear drips from her chin down to my lap, and I cup her cheek, pulling her down to eye level. I search her eyes, glistening with tears and pupils blown out with desire. “Color.”
She sniffles. “Yellow.”
My eyes narrow. “Why?” I swallow hard, bracing myself for her answer. If I’ve pushed her too far already—
“Because I need to come, Sir.”
The mocking tone in her voice makes my cock twitch. That curl of her lip makes me hungry to lean forward and taste it.
Tilting my head, I ask, “Would you like to try your answer again? Without the attitude, perhaps?”
She smirks, and it’s the Sutton Hart I know looking back at me, the ball buster I can’t fucking get enough of. “No, Sir.”
“Yellow because you need to come, is that correct?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Well then, I think we need to go over the rules again. We don’t use yellow or red unless we feel in danger or afraid… if boundaries are crossed, or if the pain becomes too much to bear…”
Her lips press into a fine line. “Fine. I’d like to revisit orgasm denial, Sir.” She grinds the word through clenched teeth. There’s my hot little lawyer.
“By all means,” I say, “speak freely.”
“Orgasm denial is a one on the scale, Dominus. I made a mistake and I’m changing it. Is that allowed?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good. It turns out that I loathe this feeling.” She swallows hard and I tighten my grip on her chin, then tug her toward me.
If this mask wasn’t in the way, I’d crush my lips to hers in reward for being so goddamn open and honest. Instead, I hold her face as closely to mine as I can while still having the ability to watch her expression, then I spread my legs, further spreading hers in the process, and I reach between them.
As I drag my fingers through her wetness, I say, “Honesty will always be rewarded. Trusting your body is the sexiest thing you can do for your Dominant.”
Her eyes flutter closed as I tease her clit with gentle strokes.
“Eyes open,” I command, and when they fly open, I say, “Now, show me what a good little sub you are and ride my hand.” Driving two fingers up into her, I hold her tightly in place and watch her face twist from indignant to euphoric with just a few punishing pumps of my fingers.
Her hips rock with my hand, taking as much as I give, and everything outside this room drifts away as Sutton Hart locks her eyes with mine, grabs onto my shoulders, and falls apart on my hand.
Back in my private quarters, Sutton sits on the chaise lounge in my office, while I sit at my desk, perusing her intake forms and reviewing her checklist. I’ve updated the rating for orgasm denial to reflect the way she truly feels about that, and I will assess edging at a later date.
For now, I believe we’ll avoid that because of how similar to denial it can feel to a submissive.
The more I get to know her, learning her body and understanding what she needs, the more we can venture down that avenue of kink exploration.
She’s curled up beneath a blanket with a book in hand, but her gaze hasn’t left me in the twenty minutes we’ve been back in my office.
If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine us like this, sitting in our home, Sutton reading while I work, or vice versa, the sexual tension hanging heavily in the air.
Sutton makes me want that life, and I’m a masochistic idiot for even pretending I have any goddamn chance at getting it.
I lift my head and meet her gaze.
She quickly returns her attention to her book.
Smirking, I return mine to the screen and resume scanning her checklist for fives, fours, and threes on the rating scale.
Landing on primal play, I remember something from our earlier interaction in the private viewing room, then click over to the club’s reservation system to see if the sight deprivation room is available a week from tonight.
When I find it empty, I quickly type in my name and block out a two-hour time slot.
“Finish your water.”
From my peripheral, I watch her swallow the last few sips of water, then set the glass back down onto the small end table beside the chaise. With an adorable little huff, she shoves the last bite of apple into her mouth before being told to do so.
Good girl.
Without looking at her, I ask, “Would you like to get on your knees for me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Please do.”
She’s quick to jump up, like she’s only been pretending to relax but was actually waiting for my next command.
Stopping immediately beside me, Sutton waits.
It’s such an interesting contrast to who I know her to be in the real world, and I smile smugly beneath my mask because I’m a lucky motherfucker to get to see both versions of her.
She lowers onto the pillow to the left of my chair and I swivel slowly toward her, positioning my legs on either side of her. “When we were in that viewing room,” I begin, “you gave me green as your color, but you continued trying to get away from me.”
She licks her lips, waiting, and I watch her eyes light up at the memory.
“Tell me why you said one thing, but your body did the opposite.” I know why, but I need to hear her say it.
She needs to understand the dichotomy of wanting what she wants even when her body—or her mind—tries to argue.
Discussing this will help with our relationship going forward, and dissecting the whys and hows of it all will help her gain a deeper knowledge of what she truly wants and needs as my submissive.
“Um…” A thoughtful crease forms between her eyebrows and she bites down on that bottom lip as she focuses on my thigh, considering what I’ve asked of her. “I don’t really know why I was trying to get away, Sir.”
I reach for her, running my hand through her dark hair, then cupping her cheek so I can lift those honeyed-amber eyes to meet mine. “Did you want to escape me?”
Her eyes widen. “No, Dominus, not at all.”
I rub my thumb over her lips, my mouth watering at the way she parts them for me.
The desire to kiss this woman remains an ever-growing, demanding need.
It’s what I dream about when I close my eyes each night, what I fantasize about when I’m supposed to be engaged in meetings and Zoom calls.
“Did you feel more aroused when you were trying to escape?”
She shivers and I smile beneath my mask.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I hum thoughtfully as I dip my thumb into her mouth to tease the tip of her tongue. “You mentioned primal play before, as something you were curious about, yes?”
“Yes, Dominus.”
“Perhaps we should explore a predator and prey dynamic soon.” I stroke her hair and she leans into my touch, fucking preening for me like the good girl she is.
Every moment I spend with her is a new surprise, a new discovery about who this woman is.
I want to know everything. Not just who she is in here, with Dominus, but what makes her tick out there, in the world beyond the sanctity of The Rabbit Hole.
I need her dreams and desires, her regrets, the things she wouldn’t even tell her very best friend.
I swallow as emotion lodges itself into my throat and grabs hold.
Fuck.
What am I doing?
This can only end one way, and it has disaster written all over it. Trust is the key basis for a Dominant/submissive relationship, and I’m building this one on the biggest lie of all.
“Sir?”
I blink, realizing I’ve dropped my hand from her head to grip the armrest of my chair.
I haul in a deep breath and give myself a mental shake.
If I’m going to do this, if I’m going to risk her hating me for the rest of our lives so I can have this secret, beautiful side of her, I have to let go of the dream of ever truly getting to know Sutton Hart, the ball-buster, and be grateful I get to know this intimate side of her, of Sutton Hart, the submissive.
I have to be thankful for the little bit of her I do get and let go of the rest, otherwise what I don’t have will eat at me until it taints what’s right in front of my face.
“On your feet.”
She rises quickly, standing with her head slightly bowed. She’s dressed in her skirt again, though barefoot now, and I run my hands down her arms, over her hips, memorizing the luscious curves of her body.
“Sensory deprivation,” I begin as I move away from her, “is the act of removing one sense to heighten the others. On your checklist, you marked sensory deprivation via blindfold as a four.” I pull open a drawer on the opposite side of the room and retrieve an eye mask.
“If you are available to stay with me for a little while longer, I’d like to test that rating.
” Stepping behind her, I place my hand on her shoulder to keep the connection steady. “Speak freely.”
“I can stay as late as you’d like me to.”
“And your job? Do you have somewhere to be in the morning?”
Her shoulders fall and I shake my head.
“I have to trust that you are taking care of yourself, Sutton. What time do you need to wake up tomorrow?”
“Seven o’clock, Sir.”
“Hm. It is nearly ten o’clock now. You should get at least seven hours of sleep.” Pulling her hair back behind her shoulders, I massage the tight muscles across her back. “I’m going to decide what time you come here every time we meet going forward, do you accept that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And as your Dominant, I will also decide when our time together comes to an end. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” she says, albeit this time there’s a hint of reluctance in her tone. My brat is coming back to me.
“I will tell you what to wear when we see one another.” Her hackles rise, shoulders visibly tensing, but I continue digging my fingers into those straining muscles. Testing her, I add, “I will tell you what to eat and when—”
“Yellow, Sir.”
“Yellow?” I ask. “Or red? I expect you to be honest with yourself so you can be honest with me.”
“Red, Dominus.”
“Good girl.” Sliding one hand around to cup her throat, I pull her backwards against my body. She immediately melts into me, and I feel more than hear the way she softly moans with relief.
“We’re going to say goodnight now.”
As I anticipated, her shoulders slump with disappointment,
“But I’d like to see you tomorrow night. Can you return?”
She nods eagerly and my fingers flex into the column of her throat.
“Words, Sutton.”
“Yes, Dominus.”
“Good. I’ll expect you here at the same time as today, but when you arrive, I will not be waiting for you at the entrance. I want you to come straight to this room.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Do you remember how to get here?”
Sutton nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Releasing her, I move so that we’re facing one another, then, watching her face for tells, I say, “I want you to strip out of your clothes.”
She draws in a shaky breath.
“And I want you to stand right here, just like this, waiting for me to arrive. I want to see your body, every curve and valley, exposed to me because it belongs to me. Do you understand?”
She shivers. “Yes, Sir.”
“And will you comply?”
Her lips twitch, then she licks them and they pull into a mischievous smile that nearly knocks me off my feet. “Perhaps, Sir.”