On His Terms: Mastered

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

“She fucking did what?” Alex demanded, fury soaring. Pushing back from the desk in his office, he strode to the window, seeking to harness his flare of temper.

“Chelsea called Niles,” Damien repeated unnecessarily.

He balled his hand into a fist and stared out at the foothills as his mind raced.

He’d spent one evening with Chelsea and he had no claim on her. In fact, he’d told her he didn’t want to train her.

On the surface, her reaching out to Niles Malloy made sense. At one point, the other Dom had been well-known in the community. And he still garnered respect. But since the death of his wife had left him brokenhearted, he’d become somewhat of a recluse. He participated in some scenes filmed at the Den, but he saw no one beyond professional models and actresses.

And just like Alex, Niles had an edge to him. But Niles was rougher, more remote. Some now wondered if he was even capable of emotional attachment. Alex shoved away the unwelcome idea that the same description could apply to him.

“Niles turned her down,” Damien continued. “But he gave her several recommendations.”

Of course she refused to be deterred. Alex should have realized that and not ended the evening the way he had, by wishing her well in her endeavors. She wanted to snag Evan C’s attention, and so would recklessly pursue any path that got her there. And not every Top could be trusted. Foolish girl. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

While he had Damien on the line, Alex updated him on their investments. One was doing as well as anticipated, but another was outperforming even their wildest projections. Neither made up for the colossal failure of the Bartholomew deal, but it was a start. He was pursuing other opportunities, but before he said anything, he and his brother Gavin would be triple-checking all the details.

After ending the call, Alex stared at the late afternoon clouds. At least the view was one good thing about their recent move to the less expensive address. Their Cherry Creek offices had been swanky, but nothing rivaled looking at the mountains.

Restless, he paced the room and dropped his phone onto the desk.

His wayward thoughts once more returned to Chelsea.

What the fuck was up with him?

He hadn’t allowed himself to be obsessed with a woman, even a sub, in years.

But now…?

Ever since the night at the Den, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the saucy, sexy submissive. He’d enjoyed introducing her to things she’d never tried before, seeing what made her nervous, then pushing her past those fears.

And fucking her…?

She was unbelievably responsive, and he couldn’t get enough of her.

Now, the idea of her calling every Dominant in Denver pissed him the hell off.

It shouldn’t matter. He told himself it didn’t.

But goddamn it, it did.

Someone with less skill than him might crush her innocence and joy of discovery. Worse, she could be physically or emotionally hurt.

He dragged his hand through his hair. Alex wanted to be the one to watch her blue eyes open wide, to soothe her when she was frightened, to teach her proper decorum.

Fuck it.

If she was so desperate to be trained, he’d be the one to do it.

Resolute, he strode back to his desk, snatched up his phone, then scrolled through the contacts list until he found the number for Lyle, Sara’s Dom.

As Alex expected, and hoped, Sara refused to give him Chelsea’s contact information. Instead, Sara asked for Alex’s number and said Chelsea would contact him, if she wanted to.

Wanted to?

It took all of his restraint to be polite instead of slamming down the phone.

He paced, continually checked his phone, and fumed before finally getting back to work.

Before leaving for the night, Gavin knocked on the doorframe, then entered without an invitation and dropped into the chair on the far side of his desk. “How’d it go at the Den?”

Gavin’s question seemed casual, but it wasn’t. Returning to the club after an extended absence had been significant, both because of the crash of the Bartholemew deal and because of Liz. “Small party. No one seemed to give a shit about the past.”

“Good to hear.” He drummed his fingers on his thigh. “Anything interesting happen?”

Alex narrowed his gaze. “Who’d you talk to?” After his regrettable drunkfest so long ago, Gregorio had placed him in the guest quarters, and Damien had given Gavin a heads-up. Appreciated, but not needed.

“No one.” Gavin grinned. “I’m fishing. But it seems I landed something. Shall I reel it in?”

Though he was tempted to tell his only sibling to fuck off, Gavin wouldn’t give up.

“Yeah. Name’s Chelsea. Wants me to train her.”

Gavin stopped drumming his fingers. “Bro—”

“I know.”

“You going to do it?”

“She’s going through every Top in the club trying to find someone.”

“And you don’t trust most of them?”

“Yeah. And she wants Evan C.”

He scowled furiously. “That cocksucker?”

Good to know Alex wasn’t the only one with that opinion.

“He doesn’t deserve subs.”

And there was part of the conundrum. At least if she spent time with him, she’d understand more about submission and learn to draw some boundaries. “Agree.”

“Which is why you’re going to do it.” Gavin’s tone was fatalistic, and his words weren’t a question. “Be careful.”

He’d say he knew what he was doing. But he’d thought he had with Liz, as well.

Gavin stood. “Gonna hit the gym, if you want to meet me there.”

“I’ll consider it.” Working off some of the energy churning inside him was better than brooding.

Which was what he did for the next couple of hours.

Finally, she called him. “Round one to you,” he said, voice clipped as he answered.

“Excuse me?”

“You win,” he conceded.

“Does this mean you’re agreeable to training me?” Excitement laced her tone, leaving it breathless. It wasn’t triumph, but honest enthusiasm. “Are you serious…? You’ve made me the happiest person on the planet, Sir.”

That soothed him, somewhat. “I’ll give you two weeks. Are you available in the evenings and on the weekends?”

“There are a couple of events that I need to attend, but mostly I can rearrange my schedule, Sir.”

“I recommend we start tomorrow.”

“That sounds reasonable.”

“Dinner? Six o’clock.”

“Dinner?”

Lesson one. Keep her guessing. No doubt she’d expected him to suggest a club or one of their homes.

He named a restaurant near his office. “Wear a short skirt or dress, heels, no undergarments. And pack an overnight bag in case you decide to stay. Any questions?”

There was silence. “How much will your training cost me?”

“I don’t charge.”

“In that case, I’ll make a donation to your favorite charity in the name of Monahan Capital.”

He exhaled. She might not be a masochist like Liz had been, but that didn’t mean he would have the patience he needed to deal with her annoying persistence. “Don’t be late.”

“I never am. Sir.”

He’d half-expected her to call and try to change the arrangements and he was pleasantly surprised when she didn’t. He arrived at the restaurant five minutes early, and she was already there. Impressive. She was sitting on a bench, her impossibly long legs crossed. Her back was hunched slightly, as if she were trying to hide the fact her breasts were bare beneath the loose-knit sweater. Her beauty was startling, and he was man enough to notice and savor it.

He’d prefer to see her present her body more proudly, and they’d be working on that. The next time they dined in public, her behavior would be different.

With the artificial, calculating expression he recognized from the first time she’d approached him at the Den, she stood and offered her hand, as if he were a business associate. He ignored her hand and said, “I’d prefer you to kiss my cheek.”

She blinked. “Uhm… If you say so,” she said, leaning toward him.

“If you say so, Sir,” he corrected. “You’re in training. And don’t forget it for one moment.”

“I apologize.” With her eyebrows furrowed slightly, she kissed his cheek.

“How does it feel to have skipped undergarments?”

“Strange,” she admitted. “Unnatural.”

“Aware of your submission?”

“I suppose you could say that, Sir. It’s uncomfortable.”

“Good. Be glad you’re not going to be sitting on a massive butt plug or filled with a dildo.” He tipped his head to the side. “This time.”

Her mouth opened momentarily before she snapped it shut.

“Please,” he said, indicating she should precede him. When she did, he placed his fingers against the small of her back. “Stand up straighter. Pull your shoulders back so your breasts stick out. Tonight, you’re mine. I’m proud of you, and I want you to own the fact you’re pleasing me.” Though she sucked in a sharp breath, she complied. “Reservations for Monahan,” he told the hostess.

After they were seated, with menus in hand, he asked Chelsea, “Any preference?”

She looked at the entrées. “Probably just a salad. With sirloin. Maybe some wine.”

“How do you like your steak cooked?”

Over the top of the menu, she scowled at him.

“I’ll be ordering your food,” he told her.

“I’m capable of doing that myself.”

“Of course you are, but this is about your willingness to allow me to handle the details.”

She put down the menu.

“A good Dom always takes his sub’s desires into account. A good sub in turn trusts he will make good decisions on her behalf. If you have any preferences, now is a good time to express them.”

“I’m not sure I like this dynamic,” she admitted.

“Over the next two weeks, there will be plenty of things you won’t like. You have a choice to deal with it or end your training. Your safe word will be honored.”

She drummed her fingers on the table.

“This isn’t as easy as you’d anticipated, is it?”

The waiter stopped by, and Alex refused wine, and instead ordered them each a glass of sparkling water. She set her chin mutinously but said nothing.

“You may find my dominance irritating. Or you could decide it’s nice to have someone take care of you for a change. It can be a struggle, or not. But understand this, bad behavior will be corrected and perhaps punished. So, Chelsea, shall we proceed as submissive and trainer, or would you like to have dinner as friends?”

“Do you expect me to address you as Sir, even in public?”

“When we are out as a Dom and sub, yes. If we were at a business event, that would be discussed and rules agreed to beforehand.”

She was silent for so long he wasn’t sure if she was going to answer. Finally, she said, “In that case, I prefer my steak medium-rare, Sir.”

He nodded. “Now sit up straight. I don’t want to tell you again.”

“As I mentioned, not wearing a bra is uncomfortable.”

“Be that as it may. I like to see your nipples. And visualizing them with clamps on.”

“I’m not sure I’ve recovered from last weekend.”

“Ah.”

“I’m not hearing any sympathy, Sir.”

“No. You’re not.” The waiter returned with the sparkling water, and Alex ordered their meals and remembered to say, “Please ensure there is no parsley anywhere near the lady’s plate.”

The man nodded.

When they were alone again, Alex asked her, “Rather painless, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d made it in my mind.”

“Did it take away from your empowerment?”

She sank against the back of her chair. “No.” She picked up her water. “It didn’t change who I am, Sir, or the fact I’m capable of ordering my own food at any other time.”

He nodded. “First lesson. Being submissive doesn’t take away anything from you as a person or as a woman. You’ll enjoy the meal you wanted, cooked the way you like, and you delighted me in the process.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Not all Doms order for their subs, but many do. Take your lead from him or her, and don’t argue in the process.”

“I understand,” she said.

As they relaxed, he asked about her background and her desire to succeed.

“You don’t leave much uncharted territory, do you?”

“Understanding you will make me a better trainer.”

“You take this seriously.”

“I do. Which is one of the reasons I no longer deal with neophytes.”

“It’s time consuming.”

“This is about you, Chelsea. I won’t allow you to redirect the conversation.” But nice try.

“No one really knows this, except my closest friends…”

“Your secrets are safe with me.” He topped off her glass. “I don’t discuss my trainees with anyone. Whatever you choose to share is up to you, but I will reveal nothing.”

“That helps.” She traced tiny circles on the tablecloth before sitting back. “My father didn’t have much use for a daughter.”

Fuck that.

“Neither did my mom, for that matter. According to them, boys are more intelligent.”

“They’re not.” That he knew from his business dealings.

“My brothers—one younger, one older—both received great educations, cars the moment they were old enough to drive, and they were indulged with every whim and interest. Even when Ian—the baby of the family—went to jail, my father said that boys will be boys.” She shrugged. “They each have positions at Dad’s firm. I was told I needed to get married. When I didn’t want to enroll at the college they selected—where I’d presumably meet my future husband—they withheld the funds they’d set aside for me. Instead of getting to play soccer like I wanted, I took modeling classes then was sent to charm school.” She flashed an overly bright smile. “Clearly it worked.”

“Clearly.”

They both laughed, a shared moment unlike any he’d had in years.

“Can you believe they called it that? Charm school.” She toyed with her knife and fork. “To them, nothing was more important than learning the correct etiquette to attract the right man. I’m a huge disappointment to them.”

“Despite your success?”

“If I find a man they approve of, I’ll be welcome back in the fold and they’ll release the money they’ve set aside for my wedding. Of course, they’ll be in control of the purse strings, selecting the venue, the dress, even the food.”

“Another reason me ordering for you was difficult?”

“My entire life, I’ve struggled against everyone’s expectations—or lack thereof. I’ve learned to fight for what I want, advocate for myself because no one else will.”

“It has to have been challenging.”

She brought up her chin.

“And lonely.”

For a moment she looked away and didn’t respond.

Had he hit a nerve?

When she once again looked him in the eyes, she had regained her composure. “It’s also been rewarding.”

“Always being your own cheerleader?”

“In charge of my own decisions. Answerable to no one.”

“Which makes me even more curious about why you’re interested in submission.”

Their meals arrived, saving her from having to respond. But he bookmarked his question and circled back to it when they were once again alone.

“Honestly? The experience with you at the Den left me feeling alive in a way I haven’t before. Excited.”

“It was a novelty, perhaps?”

“Potentially.” She shrugged. “But I think it’s something more.”

He’d wait and see, when the thrill wore off and the only thing she was left with was her decision to capture an unworthy Top’s attention.

When the server checked back to be sure everything was satisfactory, Alex glanced at Chelsea.

“It’s fabulous, Sir.”

“Another sparkling water?” he suggested.

“That would be lovely. Thank you.” This time, her smile wasn’t the hundred-watt fake one she usually gave him.

“Well done,” he told her when the server moved off.

“Much as I hate to admit it, you were right,” she said. “Not just tonight, but the other night. If I think about what my Dom wants, the struggle isn’t as difficult.”

“Lesson two,” he said. “At this rate, we’ll be done in three days.”

“Do you think so?” she asked, holding a fork poised near her mouth.

“No.” He grinned when her shoulders fell again. “You’re still slouching, despite the fact I’ve already corrected you twice.”

She put down the fork and sat up. “Sorry, Sir. Clearly charm school wasn’t as effective as my parents hoped.”

“I have just the thing to help reinforce my will. I’ll show you when we get to my house.” He cut a piece of steak. “Eat up.”

She left part of her salad and refused dessert and coffee.

Then, as he paid the bill, she protested.

“Chelsea, if I want you to pay, I’ll let you know. This changes nothing between us and takes nothing away from your feminine power. So give up the fight.”

“In that case, thank you, Sir.”

He nodded, wishing all arguments with her were this easy to end. “Did you bring an overnight bag?”

“I did. But I’d prefer not to stay, Sir.”

“That’s up to you. I have a guest room. My bed is comfortable. There’s also a hook attached to the footboard if you prefer to be chained to it, along with a nice pile of blankets on the floor, if you prefer.”

Color drained from her face, and she pushed away her wineglass.

“Some Doms expect their subs to sleep on the floor.”

As if choosing her words with great care, she asked, “Is that your expectation, Sir?”

“No.” He’d had the chain installed for Liz when he’d trained her, and he’d done it at her request. He was happy to snuggle after a session, and there were nights when he wanted his woman to sleep in his arms. Liz had never wanted to do that. Even if he hadn’t taken the time to chain her and arrange her bedding, he would wake up to find her on the floor, cocooned with her pillow and a single blanket, her collar affixed to the chain. “I had a sub once who preferred it that way. It helped her.”

“I don’t understand.”

He had never discussed intimate details of his relationship with anyone other than Damien. “Liz was a masochist. Being in my bed would have been a luxury she didn’t want.”

She folded her hands on the tablecloth. “Is she the reason you’re no longer a trainer?”

“She has a lot to do with it, yes.”

“And you loved her?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I did.” Deeply. Painfully.

For a moment, she was quiet, but she pushed forward, despite the fact his tone had been cold and final.

“Did she end it, or did you?”

He sighed. “I suppose if I don’t answer you, you’ll continue to ask again and again.”

Interestedly, she leaned forward. “And again, Sir.”

“Liz ended it.” Except for Damien, no one knew how devastated he’d been and how long the anguish had lasted.

Months after she’d walked away after finding a Top much more extreme than he was, he and Damien had stayed up almost an entire night at the Den, drinking a bottle of Bonds’s finest single malt.

The next day, hating what he saw in the mirror, Alex had vowed never to look back.

“You haven’t gotten involved with anyone since?”

“No. And I’m not planning to.” A warning to her? Or perhaps to himself? “D/s relationships can be more complex than ordinary ones. Be careful what you wish for.”

“Why is that? I thought they might be better.”

“For many people they are,” he agreed.

Eyebrows knitted together as she studied him, she waited.

His answer was going to reveal more than he was comfortable with. “If—when—it ends…” Fuck. “There can be significant emotional fallout.”

“Are you speaking from personal experience, Sir?”

He didn’t owe her an answer. He was her trainer, nothing more. Still, he couldn’t resist her. “A sub—a Dom—can fill a lot of roles, not just the kink, but as life partner, and a lover. When that ends, there can be a gulf in multiple areas.”

She shuddered. “Warning heeded.”

“Ready?” Done with the conversation, wanting to put the brooding behind him, he stood and offered his hand. “This time, follow me. Stay back about two feet. No more. No less.”

Though she didn’t reply, she didn’t protest. He knew his behavior kept her off-balance, and that was his intention.

He walked her to her car and waited while she programmed his address, that was near Golden, into her navigation system. He intended to drive so that she could follow, but he would expect her at his house again, and he didn’t want to hear that she’d got lost.

It took less than fifteen minutes to arrive at his home. “I never expected you to live in a place like this,” she said when he opened her door and offered his hand to help her out.

Her comment intrigued him. “Like…?”

“Homey.” She studied the house and him. “I guess I thought you might have a loft or something modern. But this is amazing. How old is it?”

“It’s considered Victorian style, even though it was built after 1940,” he responded. “It was on the market for a steal because of the extensive amount of work it required—electric, plumbing, everything, basically. You may have heard of Master Marcus from the Den. His company oversaw the restoration. It took about eight months, but I think it was a good investment.”

“It’s charming.”

He didn’t add that he’d bought it with the expectation that he and Liz would live out their days together, maybe have children. So she was right that it was homey. Nice garage, yard, plenty of space. Not that he needed it. But he’d been so busy rebuilding after the Bartholemew deal that he hadn’t gotten around to listing it and moving on to someplace better suited to his bachelor lifestyle.

“The grounds are spectacular.” Standing together on the sidewalk, she took in the trees and flowers.

“Landscaping company,” he explained. “I wouldn’t know a pansy from a petunia.”

“You have both.”

“Do I?”

“In those pots.” She pointed.

“I’ll take your word for it.” He led the way to the three steps leading up to the wraparound porch.

As he unlocked the heavy wooden door, she wrapped her arms around her middle, despite the mild evening weather.

“After you.” He held out his hand, palm up, indicating she should precede him.

Inside, she gasped. “Oh my God. It’s even better than I imagined. Do you mind if I have a look around? This would be a perfect location for a charity fundraiser.”

He shook his head, as bemused as he was enchanted. “Do you ever stop?”

“Are you kidding me?” she countered. “This house was designed for entertaining.”

When he’d outlined his vision to Marcus, Alex had envisioned hosting parties for business associates, along with an occasional lifestyle function. That she saw the same potential that he did pleased him. “You can place your purse on the side table.”

“Would you like me to take off my shoes?”

“It’s not necessary. Yet.” But he appreciated her consideration.

He showed her the study, then the great room with its gas fireplace and stone hearth. Next he showed her the dining room, then the kitchen.

The largest chunk of his funds had been spent on this part of the house, ripping down walls, opening the space, adding a glassed-in breakfast nook. Since he didn’t eat at home much, he’d taken Marcus’s word that the appliances were a chef’s dream.

“I love the combination of classic and contemporary throughout the whole place,” she said, running her fingers over the marble counters. “It really works. Seriously, Sir, you have to let me plan a party here.”

Alex enjoyed her enthusiasm. What he wouldn’t have given for Liz to have fallen in love with the house like Chelsea seemed to. “There’s a media center downstairs,” he said. “And the bedrooms are upstairs.”

As if she were a guest rather than a sub who’d be screaming within half an hour, he gave her a tour of the upper story, including the guest room, home gym, and his suite.

“You weren’t kidding about the hook in the footboard of your bed.” As she stared at it, she rubbed her forearms.

Shock? Intrigue? “I don’t joke about things like that.” He regarded her.

Her breath caught as she met his gaze. Was she ready for a Dominant like him?

“Have a look around.”

He had two enormous closets. His was only half filled. The other was empty. “You don’t think I’m being too nosy?”

“Since you’ll be using it at some point, you should know your way around the place.”

In the en suite, she looked around. “Wow. You made some really bold choices here.”

She was right. The black-and-white floor tiles were art deco in style. “My decorator was inspired.” A claw-foot tub stood off to one side, and an extra-large shower had built in benches and dual showerheads on poles.

The water closet was behind another door, and there were two sinks with tall, arched faucets. A couple of shelves held candles, while a skylight completed the space.

“This is truly impressive, Sir.”

“I’m glad you approve. Would you like to see the play room?”

“The…?” She tipped her head, as if trying to discern whether or not he was joking.

“After Liz left, I got rid of almost everything. But for our purposes, it will suffice.”

She followed him to a closed door. When he opened it, she peeked inside but didn’t enter.

At one time, the place had been packed, but he no longer saw the point.

Gigantic mirrors adorned one wall, and there was a Saint Andrew’s cross off to one side. A large chair, a rolling cart, and some sort of storage unit were the only other furnishings.

“That you have a dungeon is a little unnerving.”

“All the ways I can torment you…” And more occurred to him by the minute. “Now that you’re familiar with the house, please go down to the great room and strip. Leave your clothing on the couch. If the room is cold, there’s a switch on the wall for the fireplace. I want you kneeling, facing the window.”

She looked up at him, and the air seemed to sizzle.

“Questions?”

“Won’t the neighbors be able to see me?”

Instead of responding, he captured her chin. “If you’re in a relationship with a Top who you trust implicitly, you can be assured he or she has considered that.”

Alex watched emotion play out in her pretty blue eyes.

“Does that mean you might want people to watch me?”

“I’m all about consent, Chelsea. Though you and I may be voyeurs, I cannot make that decision for others. Rest assured, no one will be able to see you. Landscaping and window coverings will provide plenty of privacy.”

Still she remained rooted in place. “I didn’t notice curtains or blinds.”

“You’re wearing me out, girl. I’ll give you the same choice I offered you earlier. Use a safe word, and we can have a glass of wine together on the deck. But if you want a BDSM trainer, time is ticking.”

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, and the act was so unbelievably intimate that it caught him off guard, shook him.

“Thank you for your reassurances.”

“You’re smart to ask questions. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He cleared his throat, seeking to regain his emotional distance. “Now unless you want to earn a punishment, you’ll get on with it.”

“Of course.”

He released his grip on her chin and eased his hand away from her, severing their connection. “I’ll meet you downstairs, at my leisure.” Maybe after he jacked off.

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, submissive trust dancing through her words.

At the doorway, she paused and looked back at him. Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something. He waited. Then, with a tiny shake of her head, she left—the floral, feminine scent of her lingering on the air.

What the fuck had he gotten himself into?

Jesus.

From the moment he’d first seen her, she’d bewitched him. It would require self-control to keep himself physically and mentally at a distance from her.

Shaking off his unwelcome introspection, he ordered his home computer to close the main floor blinds. Then he crossed to a drawer in his closet where he selected two instructional pieces, along with a tawse designed by Master Marcus. Fancifully, Marcus had etched a dollar symbol into the leather, in honor of the first multimillion-dollar deal Alex had brokered.

Once he no longer heard distant sounds, he walked down the stairs.

Chelsea was exactly where he’d ordered, kneeling up per his preference. She’d remembered, and that pleased him.

After placing his toys on an end table, he swept a cursory glance over her, but said nothing. Instead, he folded his arms, waiting, watching, testing her resolve. “Very nice,” he eventually approved.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Louder.”

She took a breath. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Inspect.” He was pleased when she stood, her head up, looking straight ahead to the window. She placed her hands behind her head and thrust out her breasts. Finally, she spread her legs. “You remembered.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Even as he closed the distance, she continued to look ahead.

He circled her a couple of times, and she remained perfectly in position. “You shaved your pussy.”

“I did, Sir.”

Everything he’d asked for, she’d delivered. “Mind if I see how good of a job you did?”

“Please go ahead, Sir.”

He ran his hand over her bare mound, then slipped a finger between her folds. “Smooth.”

Already damp from desire, she jerked against his hand. Could she be any more perfect?

“You won’t be needing your tweezers after all, Sir?”

“Pity.”

She gasped a little.

Alex dropped his hand. Because of their previous play, she likely had expectations about how the rest of this procedure would work, so he changed it up. “Turn around and show me your ass.”

“Do you want me on all fours, Sir?”

Obviously she’d recalled his instruction to Brandy. “Not necessary.”

With a small nod, legs wide apart, she bent and grabbed her ankles.

“Spread your cheeks.”

Struggling a bit for balance, she complied.

“Every morning before you go to work, you are required to insert a small butt plug that will remain in place all day.”

“You—?” She started to break position, and he delivered a quick spank to her right buttock.

“Try your response again.”

She exhaled a frustrated breath. “Yes, Sir.”

“Still waiting for gratitude.”

Her knuckles whitened where she gripped her ankles. “I have to thank you for ordering me to do something I don’t want to?”

“Not at all.” He scraped his thumbnail down the tiny mark left by his hand. “You’re thanking me for thinking of you, being considerate enough to find a way to remind you of your training even when we’re apart.”

“Considerate?” she scoffed.

“Safe word or cease your arguing.” He was grateful she couldn’t see his mirth.

It took several seconds for her to respond. “Thank you, Sir.”

“In fact, you should send a message every morning, letting me know when it’s in place and expressing how thankful you are for my attention.”

She didn’t reply.

“And for the fact I’m not requiring a large-size one.”

She gulped.

Yet.

“Yes, Sir. Of course. Once again, please accept my thanks.”

“When those statements happen faster and with more authenticity, I’ll know the training has been effective.” He dug his fingers into her butt cheeks. “Don’t think I’m not paying attention to your tone, in addition to your words. And you can be assured that your obstinance is being noted and will be corrected.”

For a moment she released her ankles before clearly remembering she was supposed to stay in place. “I’m sure that’s what makes Sir an excellent trainer. Your attention to detail.”

This time, her tone was so neutral he couldn’t ascertain her sincerity. Clever girl. “Kneel up.”

Her motions were slow and somewhat exaggerated. “You’re struggling to do things, which tells me you need daily practice, something I mentioned at the Den. Along with other Dominants, I expect your motions be flawless and elegant.”

“I apologize, Sir.”

“No need. Since you’re an absolute beginner, I anticipated you’d be rather awkward.”

Because he was looking at her, she couldn’t hide the way she pursed her lips. No doubt she didn’t like the criticism—not that he blamed her.

“You’ll be going through your paces daily, and we’ll begin now so that I’m sure you’re doing things correctly.”

Her nipples were hard, and the heady scent of her arousal reached him. She might protest that she didn’t like it, but her feminine responses were sexily submissive. And fuck it all, that summoned his raw, dominant instincts.

She will belong to another.

How many times would he need to remind himself of that fact?

“Return to your former position, where you were showing me your ass, and then kneel up. Then go from kneel up to showing me your ass. We’ll begin with twelve repetitions.” He took a seat in a wingback armchair and watched.

She’d turned on the fireplace, so a fine sheen of perspiration began to dot her back as she moved through the exercise.

“Stop thinking and judging. Allow yourself to flow from one move to the other.”

A few minutes later, she seemed more natural. “That’s much better. Do you feel the difference?”

“Yes, Sir. I do.”

It wasn’t long until her form suffered again. Her breathing grew labored, and she had to steady herself, no doubt from fatigue.

“At the end of our two weeks together, you’ll be able to move with ease, from standing to kneeling, or from lying to kneeling, or any possible combination thereof. As you practice—I recommend several times a day—mix it up. Listen to your body, become comfortable and fluid.”

Though she nodded, she added, “This is more difficult than it seems.”

“Hmm… I’m sure it is.”

He stood. “We discussed your posture several times.”

Her blue eyes were wide, and a bit of fear danced in them. “Am I going to be punished, Sir?”

“I prefer to punish you for flagrant disregard of my requirements. For example, skipping these exercises. However, if it’s something I haven’t trained you on, you can’t be expected to be perfect.”

“Is that the expectation? Perfection, Sir?”

“Flawless actions, yes.” He picked up one of the items from the side table and showed it to her. “This is called a posture collar. It will keep your head and shoulders straight at all times. For the rest of our time together this evening, you will wear this. Going forward, anytime you need correction, you’ll fetch it for me.”

Though she didn’t utter a protest, she kept her gaze on the collar.

“Please stand with your hands behind your back. Feet shoulder-width apart.”

His little sub didn’t blink as she stood in position.

“This is one of my favorites. It’s strict, but not terribly uncomfortable.” He showed her the wide collar. “This is padded, for your chin to rest on.” Once more, she remained silent. “Ready?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He wrapped the stiff leather around her throat then moved behind her to secure its two metal buckles. He checked the fit before tightening it more. “How is that?”

“Fine.”

“Look down.”

She attempted to lower her head, but the leather piece restricted her movement.

“And now?” he asked.

“Effective, Sir.”

“There’s a mirror over there. Go look at yourself. See how beautiful you are.”

As she walked, she reached up to touch the collar’s three D-rings.

“I can attach a leash, secure your wrists, or tie you to any number of things.” That thought hardened his cock.

Clenching his hands, Alex fought back the all-too-real reaction—something he’d never had with another sub, even Liz.

“It’s…it’s a bit frightening, Sir.”

To reassure her, give her a connection, he came to stand behind her and placed his hands on her gently shaking shoulders. In the mirror, he watched her looking at herself. “Please tell me your safe word.”

“Parsley.”

“Even during training, you may stop the scene at any time. If you’re just a bit scared, you are welcome to ask to talk or use the word slow.” Intentionally, he turned her to face him.

Her eyes hid nothing, a vulnerable layer of concern and trust. Her exquisite beauty set him on fire. He craved her with the kind of ferocity that had overcome him at the Den.

But he wouldn’t be fucking her tonight, or ever again for that matter. More than anything, he was a man of honor. And sex had no part in what they were doing.

Reminding himself of that fact didn’t make self-control any easier. “Return to the center of the room and practice kneeling up from the inspect position.” His voice was gruffer than necessary. “Do it ten times.” But then, fighting himself, he added, “You may use the rug.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“You recalled your manners.” Ridiculously, her sensual whisper pleased him. To hide that, he donned his Dominant facade. “Kneeling on the hardwood was uncomfortable, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“So you understand that a rug is a luxury.”

“I do.”

“I’m glad you recognize that.” He forced himself to release her shoulders before he was no longer capable of it. “Get on with it.”

As she made her way to the rug, her hips swayed. The wide collar made her gait more sensual. Having her use it all the time was a definite consideration.

Barefooted, she crossed the room. At the Den, her toenails had been a creamy peach color. Tonight, they were a fire-engine red. Though his preference was for mile-high heels, this might be one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen.

Refocusing, he picked up the rattan cane.

She stumbled when she saw his approach.

“Just like at the Den, I do not intend to use this for punishment. I prefer canes for instruction or for sensual play.”

“I’m relieved to hear that, Sir.”

“However, begin your movements again. The idea is for you to be able to do what you need to, despite distractions.” He stood close to her, inhaling the scent that had haunted him for almost a week—vanilla, and something else that was light and innocent.

Once she had finished the entire sequence, he said, “Extend your hands.” He attached fabric cuffs to her wrists then fastened those to the D-rings on her collar. “Another dozen.”

“Uhm…” Frantically she blinked. “But I won’t be able to balance as well, and my legs are getting a bit cramped.”

“In that case, you’ll need more practice. Make it two dozen,” he amended.

“I…”

He cocked one eyebrow.

She set her jaw and glared. “No.”

The cane he dropped clattered to the floor. In a single swift motion, he pulled her to her feet and swept her from the floor.

She squirmed and squealed as he carried her to the chair. Since her arms were confined, maneuvering her was more tricky than normal, but he managed to sit and get her body across his lap.

“Sir!”

“Stay still. The use of your safe word and slow word is encouraged, but flat-out willfulness…? That will be dealt with immediately.” He trapped her lower body with his legs. “You’ll receive eight spanks for your insolence and you’ll be grateful it isn’t more.”

Rubbing her rear, he waited, giving her the chance to opt out of his upcoming punishment. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

“Get it over with, Sir.”

Insolent still, but she was facing the consequences.

She yelped when he blazed the first spank into the back of her thigh. Rather than giving her time to absorb the action, he went on, making her skin red.

By the time he was finished, her rear and thighs pink, her apologies were continuous.

Much better. “Lesson learned?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Any questions? Or are you ready to perform your three dozen exercises?”

“Three dozen?” she echoed, shock in her tone.

He helped her from his lap and onto her knees. “Surely you didn’t expect the spanking to erase your bad behavior?”

She blinked back sudden tears.

The display of raw emotion from her reached him in a way nothing else could. “Talk to me, Chelsea.”

“I hated that.” Her confession was soft, plaintive.

God save me. Her reaction was so different from what Liz’s had been that he was gutted. “Please continue.”

An internal struggle played across her face, and she worried her lower lip before finally speaking, her angelic voice soft, the words broken. “You were impersonal. As if I don’t matter.”

“I assure you, my brave sub, that you do matter. I wouldn’t be spending my time with you if you didn’t.”

She exhaled, eyes wide as she studied him.

“That said, my punishments are meant to be instructive, a way to correct unwanted behavior. I hope they’re not enjoyable.”

“It was miserable.”

Again, he was struck by how different she was from his ex.

“It wasn’t at all like our night at the Den.”

“Which seemed more sensual?”

“Yes.” She blinked, and a single tear escaped to leave a track down her cheek. “And…” Her voice cracked as she faltered.

“Take your time.”

“This collar, and the way my wrists are attached…”

“I’m listening.”

“It just…” She looked up at him.

The sheen of moisture in her eyes made the blue even more startling.

She attempted to reach her hands toward her face, but the bondage restricted her movements. This woman bore little resemblance to the one who’d approached him so confidently at the Den. She was humbled, more vulnerable, but he also saw her internal confusion about what that meant to her.

“You were right. I wasn’t prepared for it to be this difficult.”

He nodded. “It takes a tremendous strength to subject yourself to someone else’s will. As I’ve said, it’s not for everyone. Probably not for most people.” At times, being a Dom, especially a trainer, wasn’t easy, either. It could be an emotional minefield, and he sure as hell wasn’t perfect and didn’t always make the right choices. “Remember that you always have the power. I can only act based on the parameters you outline. You never have to do anything you don’t want to. Safe words will always be honored, and you can walk away from me at any time.” Suddenly he didn’t want her to.

“That’s not…” She sighed.

“Go on. Whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ve never felt more humiliated, less connected.”

“You’ve never looked more attractive, with your red bottom and your honest tears. And since you’ve been here, you’ve been the center of my attention.”

Slowly, she nodded, but he didn’t see the dawning of understanding, meaning she was lost somewhere inside her own thoughts.

Alex stood, then extended a hand toward her, helping her up. He drew her toward the couch where he sat with her in his lap.

She curled into him.

“It was a true taste of submission. Not a fun spanking, a little kink.”

Though she tried to nod, the rigid leather around her neck wouldn’t let her.

“I get that.” She swallowed deeply. “At least I think I do. Until now, no one has ever seen me cry.”

He believed that. “I’m honored that you’re not hiding that.”

“I’m freaking trying to, Sir.”

“So honest.”

“I can’t get rid of the sensation of humiliation.”

“So not being able to wipe your eyes is as difficult as the tears themselves, and maybe harder than being spanked?”

“I’m not sure how you know that, but yes.”

He smoothed a lock of her hair back from her forehead. “Your emotion, your struggle, is real. At any rate, it may mean you’re going to have a profound shift, perhaps toward submission, maybe away from it. Or maybe it’s just a cathartic release that you need.”

She remained silent.

“You can embrace the tears or pretend they don’t matter. I assure you they do. You’re not the same person who walked in here.” He studied her as he stroked her cheeks. “And what’s happening right now is important.”

“I’m feeling a little overwhelmed, Sir.”

Immediately he released her bondage. “We’ll end today’s training early.”

“But… I didn’t use a safe word.”

“I’m making the decision on your behalf. On our behalf. Let’s get you dressed, then we’ll talk.”

She nodded.

After unbuckling the collar, he feathered his fingers across her unblemished skin. “You did well.”

Shaking her head, Chelsea finally wiped her face and inhaled deeply. “I feel like a failure.”

“Not at all. You learned a lot, and it would be prudent to take some time to think about whether you’re doing this for yourself or whether you’re doing it simply to hook a man whose attentions you seek. Also ask yourself whether he deserves this kind of sacrifice.”

She brought her chin up. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” Had he ever met a more stubborn woman?

“It seems as if you’re disappointed in me, Sir.” She swallowed again.

“You will never disappoint me.” He shook his head. “I promise you.” Chelsea’s reaction proved that she was totally different from Liz. When Liz found something he couldn’t tolerate, she repeated the act over. “Now, please get dressed, and I’ll be right back with you.”

After helping her to stand, he walked to the powder room to grab a tube of arnica. When he returned, she was curled up on the couch, and he asked her to stand and bend over for a moment.

Once she had, he flipped up the hem of her dress to examine her. “You have a couple of minor marks on the backs of your thighs.” Aware that she needed connection, he took his time as he rubbed some cream onto each mark.

He recapped the tube and offered it to her. “Take this home with you and reapply it before you go to bed.”

“Thank you for doing that, and for the instruction, Sir.”

“My pleasure,” he told her as he smoothed her garment back into place. Then he dropped the tube of arnica next to her purse before walking to the kitchen for bottled water.

As he returned, she covered herself with a blanket despite the night’s warmth.

“Thank you.” With a shaky hand, she uncapped the bottle and took a small sip.

As he once again sat in the nearby wingback chair, she spoke. “Questioning myself isn’t something I’m familiar with.”

“BDSM is, above all, a journey, as I said at the Den.”

A moment later, after apparently being lost in thought, she nodded. “I hate to admit it, but you’re right. I have some thinking to do.”

He pressed his palms together. “Take as much time as you need.”

“We have a two-week agreement, though.”

“It can begin again when you’re ready. And if you want to end our arrangement”—which might be my smartest move—“there’s no need to contact me again.”

“I just…”

With infinite patience, watching the confusion in her eyes, he waited.

“I don’t know what I want.”

“Understandable.”

“Would you be open, I mean… God.” She wrapped her arms around her. “This uncertainty is so unlike me.”

The version of Chelsea in front of him—so captivating, so tiny—was completely different from any she’d revealed before. Right now, her air of vulnerability reached him on a deep, protective level.

As much as he was getting to her, she was getting to him.

“I may want to talk some more.”

“My door is always open.”

“Thank you…” She hesitated, as if not sure whether to add an honorific. If the relationship were over, there was no need. “You’re being very patient and understanding.”

Despite the gravity of the emotional situation, he couldn’t help but nod, pleased. She’d remembered her manners.

When she stood, he followed suit. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Thanks, but I can see myself out. Your path is well lit.”

He wouldn’t hear of it. “The gentleman in me insists that I see to your safety.”

Softly, she sighed. “In that case, I accept.” Though her words were calm and in control, her face was pale, and her voice lacked its usual enthusiasm.

She led the way to the front door, where she picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder—fastening her hand on the strap in a death grip.

Outside, they walked down the path—past the pansies and petunias—and to her car. She used a key fob to unlock it, and he opened the door for her.

Before getting inside, she hesitated. “Thank you again for dinner. And for the learning experience. I’m not sure I’ll ever be the same again.”

He reached to smooth back escaped strands of her short blonde hair, but he dropped his hand to his side before he touched her. With the distance between them, he didn’t have the right. “It’s been an honor. A pleasure.”

Her expression appeared fragile enough to shatter the moment she was out of sight.

She climbed behind the steering wheel, and he closed her inside the vehicle.

Less than a minute later, after starting the engine and pulling away from the curb, she drove off without looking back.

Alex watched her go, not knowing if he’d ever see her again…something that suddenly wasn’t okay with him.

A plan formed. But it had risks. Lots of them. And he wasn’t sure she’d thank him if he pursued it.