Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
“What the hell are you doing here?” Bleary eyed, Alex looked up from the computer in his home office, where he’d spent every moment from the second he woke up this morning—if he was here, even doing nothing—he could pretend he was working. His brother stood on the threshold, an unwelcome intrusion. “Don’t you believe in knocking? Ringing the bell? Texting before you show up uninvited?”
“I did all three,” Gavin replied with an easy shrug. “When you didn’t answer, I let myself in.”
Though Alex scowled threateningly, Gavin strode across the floor to grab the alcohol decanter and remove it from the room. “We’re not fucking doing this again.”
Christ.Damn nag.
Last weekend, Gavin had shown up, demanding to know what the hell was wrong with Alex.
Since taking Chelsea to meet Evan C, Alex had been short-tempered. He was unfocused at meetings, and Gavin had pointed out that their employees were avoiding him.
And Gavin wasn’t having it.
Over a twelve-pack of beer, he’d spilled everything about Chelsea’s training, and his own complicated reactions to her—including the fact he’d never wanted to let her go.
They’d both passed out on the backyard patio furniture, and before leaving the next morning, Gavin had warned Alex to get his shit together.
Since he hadn’t, today was obviously Gavin’s second attempt at an intervention that Alex didn’t want or need. All he wanted was to be left the hell alone. Was that too much to ask?
Less than a minute later, Gavin was back, and he dropped into a chair on the far side of the desk.
“Part of the reason we do our weekly meetings at Monahan Capital is to look for potential pitfalls, and I’m telling you, you’ve got one.”
He might be halfway through a bottle of cheap whiskey, but that made no sense. “And?”
“Maybe if”—Gavin paused—“we had been paying more attention, we would have noticed details about the Bartholomew deal.”
Alex winced. What his brother meant to say was if Alex had been paying attention—instead of spending his time at the bottom of a bottle when his marriage fell apart—the outcome might have been different.
In salute, he raised his glass toward his brother.
“Even though you didn’t ask, I’ll enlighten you. I appreciate the way you put guardrails around the business and around your life, but answer me this. How are your choices making things better?”
“You’re talking about Chelsea.” His one obsession, no matter how he tried to drown her out of his system.
“I am.”
Alex answered honestly. “Better to be kicked in the balls now than later, right?”
“Not a metaphor I would have used. But if it fits…” Gavin leaned back, at ease, obviously not planning to go anywhere. “Are you intending to remain single the rest of your life? Never date? Never get married?”
He scowled.
“Never have kids?”
The fuck?
“That’s the only possible outcome from the way you’re behaving.”
“Don’t you have somewhere else you need to be?”
“Nah.”
“That was me politely telling you to leave.”
Instead, Gavin stretched out his legs. “Look… Maybe there were warning signs with Liz. Red flags that you didn’t see or didn’t want to see.”
There was more truth to that statement than Alex wanted to admit.
“Or maybe the truth is that Liz had some culpability. Did she manipulate you? Hide who she was?”
“Possible.”
“Maybe her needs changed, evolved, and that’s something no one predicted. Something no one could have predicted.”
Which was another damn reason to stay the hell away from Chelsea. She needed the space to evolve and grow as she experimented with submission.
“You want to tell me how Chelsea is the same?” Gavin had a point. Chelsea was dreadful at hiding her emotions and reactions, even when she tried. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Our agreement ended. End of discussion.”
“And because you’re as stubborn as you are blind…” Gavin let the words hang between them. “Did you ever mention the possibility of continuing to see her?”
“I hinted at it.”
“Hinted? For shit’s sake. You know damn well that every relationship—especially a BDSM one—needs forthright discussion.”
He winced.
“Do you know how she’s feeling today? What she’s thinking? What she wants?”
Alex squeezed his eyes shut against the onslaught of a sudden headache.
“Do you care?” Gavin asked quietly.
Yeah, I do.Obsessively.
“Or are you so deep in your own black hole that no one else exists?”
He willed his brother to shut the hell up.
“What happened that night at the Den couldn’t have been easy on Chelsea. I’m thinking a good trainer would have the consideration to check up on her.”
Because it was accurate, the criticism burned as much as the cheap whiskey he was drinking. He should have gone with the more expensive Bonds choice.
“We’re going to do business with You’re The Star.” Gavin dropped Chelsea’s presentation folder on the desk.
Where the hell had that come from?
“I signed a contract with Jennifer yesterday.”
“You did what?”
“Something we should have done a couple of weeks ago and would have if you weren’t such a stubborn fucker.”
Before that barb landed fully, Alex’s addled mind registered something odd about what his brother said. Frowning, he asked, “Jennifer? You mean Chelsea?”
“No.” Gavin shook his head. “She’s Chelsea’s executive administrator. If you’d engage at work, you’d know that.”
“Ah.” Which meant his bastard sibling hadn’t seen Chelsea? “So you don’t know how she’s doing?”
“Chelsea?”
Hating how much he hungered for even a crumb of information about her, he leaned forward.
“From what Jennifer said, she’s not herself. But you didn’t hear that.”
His heart grabbed hold of the information and tucked it inside.
The fact she’d continued to try to land his business even though they hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks meant… What? Nothing?
“I came here for one reason.”
“Get it over with.” And leave me in peace.
“If you want to implode your personal life, go right ahead. That’s your choice. But Monahan Capital belongs to both of us, and I won’t let you stand in the way of growth over some fucked-up thing going on in your head.”
His headache grew worse.
“Chelsea’s proposal is solid, and it’s worth the time and money required.” Gavin stood and smacked both palms on the desktop.
Alex needed ibuprofen.
“Get some sleep. Eat some food. Take a shower. Go work out. If you want Chelsea, take a goddamn risk. Maybe she tells you to fuck off—couldn’t blame her. But would you be worse off than you are right now? And maybe she’s waiting for you to make a move. In your dynamic, you’ve been the Top, setting the tone. One final piece of advice? Pull your head out of your ass.” With that, Gavin strode from the room.
Moments later, the front door banged shut.
Wallowing in his abyss of misery, made worse by the blinding thunder between his temples, Alex lifted his glass once again.
No matter how much he had to drink, he couldn’t vanquish the memories of their trip to the Den.
He’d accompanied her because it was the right thing to do, not because he’d wanted to.
Each mile that his tires had gobbled up had strained against his hold on civility. Watching her with Evan C, heading down the hallway to a private room had blasted possessive fire through his veins.
Repeatedly he’d reminded himself that she wasn’t his.
Not that his brain received the message.
Needing to burn off some energy, he’d paced the dungeon, staring down the hallway until Gregorio had approached and said the Den often fielded requests from subs who were looking for trainers.
Alex had flat-out refused.
“You’re not back in the business?”
Never fucking again.
Letting go of Chelsea had been gut-wrenching, which meant he wasn’t cut out for it any longer.
He slammed down his glass.
Something had to change. Some damn thing. Before he lost what little remained of his mind.
* * * *
Chelsea clutched her clipboard to her chest and looked around the large room one last time.
She, Jennifer, and their team had spent six intense weeks doing the preparation work, and the big day had finally arrived.
In keeping with the Western theme, red-and-white checkered cloths covered rectangular tables. Bright yellow sunflowers dropped their fat faces over skinny vases.
Two bars were being stocked with good beer and fine wine.
A popular band was tuning up on the stage, and Jennifer was in last-minute discussions with the lead singer about the timing of announcements. Tables filled with silent auction items lined the walls. And the scent of the barbecue beef and pork wafted over the mountain valley.
For a month, they’d sent press releases to all the Denver outlets and to the news media in all the nearby towns, and they’d spent a day in the area about two weeks ago talking to local merchants and pinning up flyers.
Since Gavin had awarded her company the firm’s PR contract, she had updated Monahan Capital’s website and social sites. In addition, she’d harnessed the power of her own mailing lists and shamelessly peppered every social media account, and had friends, family, and colleagues to do the same. She’d blasted the band’s fans, the catering company’s client list, the charity’s donors, along with the lodge’s employees, and past guests. For good measure, she’d contacted some celebrity spokespeople, and all of her parents’ friends. The last, her mother hadn’t been too happy with. Add one more thing to the list.
Despite their annoyance, her mom and dad were both planning to attend—hoping to get their names and photos in the society columns.
Whatever worked.
At this point, Chelsea had ensured pretty much everyone in North America had heard of the event.
The weather had even cooperated, so they could also utilize the outdoor space. If things went as well as she and Jennifer hoped, they would need all the room they could get.
A table, manned by several temporary workers, was in the foyer. They’d been trained to sell raffle tickets as well as encourage high bidding on the auction items.
Everyone had dressed according to her specifications. She and Jen each wore denim skirts, white blouses, and they’d added red bandannas around their necks.
She’d tried to think through everything. Truthfully, her company had never worked harder on any project.
Nerves stretched to breaking point, Chelsea checked her watch. Thirty minutes until the doors opened. Things were ahead of schedule, thank God. And they should be.
For weeks, she’d barely slept.
And it was more than just the event bothering her—it was the fact she was going to see Master Alexander—Alexander—she mentally corrected herself.
Would she ever be able to think of him without seeing him in that commanding role?
More, would she ever get over him?
Jennifer walked toward her. “Seems we have everything under control.”
“You’ve done an amazing job.”
“It was teamwork,” Jen replied.
“You’re the one who got the deal over the finish line.” After the night at the Den and saying goodbye to Alexander for good, Chelsea had been uncharacteristically detached from You’re The Star and the pursuit of her goals.
Jen had stepped into the void, and she deserved that recognition. “It’s time for you to get a raise.” Chelsea also planned to add a nice fat bonus to her admin’s next paycheck. “And sometime next week, when we’ve both had some rest, I want to talk to you about becoming my partner in the business.”
Jen’s mouth opened. “For real?”
“You’re indispensable, the only person I’ve ever known who works as hard on the company as I do. Recently, you’ve worked your ass off and you’ve been far more focused than I have.” She gave a wry smile. “You’re my rock.” At this point, Jen was also a friend and confidante, in addition to being the world’s greatest executive admin.
Grinning, Jen hugged Chelsea. “I’m honored you’d consider it.”
“We’ll work out the details next week. Either over margaritas or coffee and dessert.”
“And maybe champagne after?”
“A nice bottle. We both deserve it.”
Then, because they were so close, Jen studied Chelsea closely. “How are you really doing?”
“I’m looking forward to the event, but…”
“It’s going to be hard emotionally?” Jen guessed.
“Yes.” Time and distance hadn’t diminished Chelsea’s love for Alexander.
How could she be happy when a piece of her heart was missing?
Keeping memories of him at bay had become a full-time job. Though she kept herself busy at work, writing proposals, juggling commitments, and had started going to yoga classes, he’d continually sneaked into her thoughts. Every night, he showed up in her dreams, wearing a wicked smile, beckoning her, and she’d abruptly wake up, only to find him gone.
“I’ll be close by. I promise to keep an eye on you.”
Chelsea nodded. “You’ll be too busy.” And hopefully the same was true for her and she wouldn’t notice him at all.
As if.
“I just want to make sure—one more time—that the check-in staff understands how to upsell raffle tickets.”
“I’ll make a final pass through the space.”
Chelsea had mentally rehearsed how she was going to act if—when—she came face-to-face with Alexander. She’d be wearing her brightest smile, exuding confidence as she offered her hand and wished him lots of success. Her demeanor would be professional, and she’d give a quick excuse, then move off and see to some pressing demand.
At the end of the evening, she’d leave Jennifer to deal with the Monahan brothers while she saw to the other guests.
She’d thought everything through.
“Haven’t we talked about your posture?”
The sound of Alexander’s sensual voice slid down her back, and she froze, fear all but holding her immobilized. How could she have missed his arrival?
“Face me, please.”
It took several seconds to regain control of her faculties. What stunned her most was her instinctive reaction. His tone and expectation of obedience made her bend her knees before she caught herself.
Despite her mental practice, it never occurred to her to refuse to do as he asked.
As she turned, she straightened her shoulders.
And then… Oh, God. How was it possible that he was even more handsome than she remembered? His dark hair was styled back from his forehead, exposing its firm angularity. He wore tight-fitting blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a denim shirt. He’d skipped a tie and, instead, had left the top button of his shirt undone.
She couldn’t find her voice, couldn’t think at all.
“Evening, Chelsea.”
His smile unwound all of her determination.
“You look beautiful.”
How could she keep up her guard? “Hello, Alexander.”
“Master Alexander,” he corrected. “Or Sir will do.”
She blinked, unprepared for his words. He wasn’t her Dom or Trainer, and they weren’t at a lifestyle event.
Trying to wrap herself in a protective coat of armor, she didn’t respond, and instead said, “I hope the event is everything Monahan Capital deserves.” Everything you deserve.
“I’ve received daily updates on your progress and God knows I think you contacted every person I’ve ever known. I’ve heard from friends I had in kindergarten.”
She gripped her clipboard tighter. “Hopefully we’ve contacted hundreds more you’ve never heard of.”
“You’ve done well,” he told her. “And you’re going to get what you deserve as a reward.”
“Ah…”
“I think we could start with a spanking.”
“What?” Her mouth dried and her skin heated. Even now, responding to him was all too easy, and she yearned to feel his hand on her bare buttocks.
“Do you need me to repeat that?”
She searched his features. His tone was neutral, and one brow was cocked, but more questioningly than anything. “I heard you.” Sir. “But I’m choosing not to answer.”
“It’s time we talked.”
“If this is about us working with Gavin behind your back—”
“That, and a lot more.”
“I think you’ll find we meet your expectations.”
“There’s no doubt of that.”
“Then?” She blinked. He destroyed her focus entirely, and her breaths were becoming shorter and closer together.
“I saw the way you reacted to the sound of my voice. You wanted to kneel.”
“No.” She shook her head.
“Another three spanks for every lie you tell, sub.”
Aware of time ticking, and voices growing louder from the lobby area, she brought her chin up. This was not the time or place for this. But she doubted he’d agree. “You want the truth? Fine. I’ll give it to you straight up. Yes. That was my intuitive reaction to the sound of your voice.” Hating the sudden lump in her throat, she swallowed frantically. His presence, the raw, masculine scent of him made her dizzy. “I’ve realized a lot of things.”
Folding his arms across his chest, he waited without speaking, as if inviting her to go on.
None of this was going the way she’d practiced. “I no longer fight against the idea of submission. You were right initially. I did think BDSM was about feathers and playful swats on the ass, maybe a few scarves for bondage. To me now, it’s so much more. It’s a mindset and caring enough about someone else that their needs become paramount.”
“Have you been playing with anyone else?” he demanded.
“What?” She exhaled. Why would it matter if she had. “Our agreement ended, which makes it none of your business.”
Fury flashed in his eyes.
And because she cared—even though she didn’t want to—she answered him. “I haven’t been with anyone else.” Hadn’t even considered it. “I do like kink. As you suggested, it’s different from subjugating your own will. My submission needs to be earned by the right man. And the right man is someone I love.” She set her chin. “Someone who loves me in return and wants forever.”
“Is that all?”
He cupped her shoulders.
When she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip. She’d all but confessed her love, and he responded with that?
“You’re not the only stubborn one,” he confessed. “I told myself I didn’t want another submissive after Liz. But I learned a thing or two, especially after I saw you with Evan C. Liz would have surrendered to him, no matter how brutal he was, and she would have enjoyed it. Seeing you at the Den, your strength, resolution, determination, it all taught me something. You stood up for yourself.”
His grip turned more reassuring. She struggled to hold herself back instead of leaning into him.
“Of course you should only offer your submission to a man you love, and a man who loves you in return. And I’m asking, humbly, for your submission.”
Suddenly the room spun.
To steady her, he captured her upper arms.
Their first guests spilled into the room.
“Alex!” a woman called from across the room.
“This isn’t the right time or place. We’ll continue this conversation later,” he promised, leaning forward to capture her lips.
In the distance, a camera flashed.
“You’re mine.”
With those mind-numbing words, he released her.
At that moment, Jennifer joined them. “Sorry to interrupt, Chelsea, but the mayor is here.”
She watched him walk away and she clutched the clipboard close as if it were a lifeline on a storm-tossed sea.
Then she couldn’t think at all.
“Are you okay?”
Chelsea shook her head to clear it. Then she remembered that Jen had promised to look out for her. “I appreciate your rescuing me.” Before I said, or did, something stupid.
“Actually, the mayor is here. And you should probably meet her and glad-hand.”
“I’ll do that.”
Jen glanced in the direction that Alexander had walked. “He’s a seriously good-looking man. Just like his brother.”
“He is.” Devastatingly.
“I see your conundrum. If I’d slept with him, I wouldn’t want to let him go either.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I need to get back to the lobby in case any fires need to be put out.”
“I’ll say hello to the mayor.” The woman’s schedule was tight, and she wouldn’t be in attendance for long.
As she made her way across the room, Chelsea scanned the surroundings. She’d opened the bars early so that alcohol would flow before dinner, encouraging people to bid higher on the silent auction items. Judging by the lines in front of some of the displayed items, the strategy seemed to be working.
So far, at least, everything was going according to plan.
Except for her unnerving experience with Alexander.
Soon, she was caught up in the event, thanking the mayor for her time, mingling with people she remembered from her childhood.
When the waiting line grew, she found the catering company and asked them to start serving glasses of champagne to the people in the lobby.
That idea was such a hit that she made a mental note to approach all future events in that way.
Master Damien showed up, with Gregorio at his side. As always, the Den’s owner looked dapper and debonair as he sipped a glass of wine. Gregorio drank from a mug of draft beer and surveyed the room, giving off an air of danger and making her shiver. At the Den, he was in his element. But here, he didn’t quite fit in.
A few minutes later, another man joined them, and she made her way over to say hello. She shook hands with Damien and Gregorio, then Gregorio introduced her to the stranger, Master Michael.
While other attendees were in suits, he’d opted for a black leather blazer, jeans, and boots.
He could have walked off the cover of a Western magazine. And if he’d never been on one, maybe he should be.
“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” He tipped his felt cowboy hat in her direction.
That’s when she saw it, the layer of wariness grooved next to his eyes.
“Everything is all set at the Den for the private weekend escape for you and Master Alexander.” Master Damien, dragging her attention from the newcomer, a Dom, she assumed. Here without a submissive.
Wait. What had he just said? “I’m sorry, Sir.” She gave him her full attention. “Did you mention a private event, Sir?”
Gregorio grinned, and the act only made him look more ferocious. His earring glittered in the light. “Good thing you’re wearing boots, boss. You just stepped in it.”
Master Damien took a sip from his wine. “Perhaps I misspoke. Seems you may want to have a conversation with Alex.”
“I believe I will, Sir.” Sooner, rather than later.
Trying not to betray her thundering heart, she excused herself, but she was waylaid with a half dozen questions. More guests than their wildest estimates had suggested arrived, and so there were decisions needed about extra food and more beverages.
These were her favorite kinds of problems.
Chelsea walked through all the individual spaces, looking for Alexander, and was in the lobby when her parents walked in.
In case anyone was watching, her mother swept her into a distant, awkward embrace. “Darling!”
Her father nodded but didn’t offer a hug. “Decent turnout.”
“Thank you.” Delighted by the compliment, she smiled. Finally, she’d done something to earn their respect.
“If you had a husband, you could be here as an attendee, rather than the help,” her mother observed, obviously having no idea how hurtful or insulting her words were. “I hope you enjoy your evening.”
A server passed through with a tray of bubbly, and she snagged two glasses for her parents. Then she gave them a falsely sunny smile. “I’d love to visit, but I need to see the caterers.”
“Of course, darling. Wouldn’t want to keep you from your tasks.”
Gritting her teeth, she resumed her search for Alexander and was in the main ballroom when the band’s lead singer interrupted the festivities to say that one of Monahan Capital’s owners had an announcement.
Across the room, she glanced at Jen, who shrugged as if to say this surprised her, as well.
Alexander took the stage—commanded it, really.
He thanked everyone for coming, commended You’re The Star on their excellent work, then he called up a girl who’d been helped by the children’s charity the evening was benefiting. He crouched next to the beautiful child, who had long, dark hair and big, luminous brown eyes.
Chelsea wasn’t sure she would have had the courage to call the girl on stage, but Alexander did, and it had clearly been prearranged. He placed his arm around her shoulder as he held the microphone for her.
She spoke in a halting tone, telling her story and expressing her gratitude. She was as articulate as she was gorgeous. And people’s eyes began to fill with tears. As she finished, Chelsea applauded, and she knew the evening would be a huge success, due in part to Alexander’s strategic move.
The band struck up a ballad, and he found her.
“That was smart.” But there was still the matter of their private event at the Den.
“Dance with me?”
Because it was a request more than a demand, he undid her.
Taking her hand, he led her to the patio where the first stars had started to appear.
As he wrapped her in the familiar comfort of his arms, resolve melted away.
The self-protective part of her wondered what she was doing. He’d broken her heart once. Wasn’t that enough to last a lifetime? “Alexander…”
“Master Alexander.”
“But you’re not my—”
“Later,” he interrupted. “Let’s have this moment.” He feathered his hands into her hair and drew her against him.
Without protest, so desperate for a moment of solace, she rested her head on his chest.
Too, too soon, the song ended, replaced by something much more up-tempo, and she reluctantly eased herself back from him.
“I need to work. We have to announce some of the raffle winners so people stay engaged.”
“I’m not finished with you.” It was delivered with part warning, part promise.
“I have something to discuss with you as well.”
When he nodded, she made her escape.
As the evening progressed and dinner was served, she noticed both Monahan brothers were constantly on the move, congratulating winners, shaking hands, encouraging donations.
At the end of an evening like this, adrenaline generally receded and exhaustion washed over her. At this event, she was gaining energy. It was as if the pent-up hurt of the past six weeks had gathered enough steam to push her to the top of a fourteen-thousand-foot summit.
Finally, the event wound to a close. Attendees claimed their silent auction winnings, the band began to load their instruments into a waiting truck, and the catering company packed up.
After the last goodbyes had been said, Alexander appeared at her side. “Jennifer said you rode with her.”
She nodded.
“I made your excuses. You’ll be going home with me.”
“I…”
“Your mouth looks attractive when it’s gaping open like that. Makes me want to put a gag in it. Or my cock.”
She shut her mouth.
“I’ve always particularly enjoyed your intelligence,” he said. He took hold of her elbow and guided her toward the door. “Say goodnight to Gavin and Jennifer,” he instructed her. But he gave her no time to say a word.
Instead, she glanced over her shoulder and waved.
Jennifer smiled. Gavin nodded approvingly.
At Chelsea’s insistence, Alexander paused long enough to gather her belongings from the kitchen and then led her to the parking lot where the valet already had his vehicle waiting.
Not surprising her, he saw that she was safely seated and buckled tight before sliding into the driver’s seat.
Master Alexander flipped a switch to turn on her seat heater. Always thoughtful.
The drive home was filled with discussion about the event, which she appreciated, and she gave him the approximate amount they’d raised and noted the things she’d heard from others, including the fact that her favorite online magazine, Scandalicious, had been in attendance and would be running a story in the coming days, filled with lots of photos.
“You impressed me.” He looked at her. “As expected.”
A ripple of pride ran through her.
“Mind if we go straight home?”
Shocked, she wiggled around so she could study him. “What do you mean by that? Your house?”
“Ours.”
Her heart roared, drowning out her thoughts. He couldn’t mean that. She didn’t dare allow herself to believe that he did. “Look, Alexander—”
“We’ll have plenty of time to talk.”
She should insist on heading to her apartment, that way she would be on familiar ground, but the set of his jaw was implacable. “It’s going to be a waste of time.”
“Let’s see about that.”
When they entered his home, her breath vanished. “What is this?”
The great room was filled with balloons in all shapes and sizes, some hanging from the ceiling, others attached to walls, the mantel, and dozens covered the floor.
“Come with me.”
He guided her toward the fireplace.
Now that she was closer, she noticed even more balloons on the couch and chairs.
A huge bouquet of red roses sat on the hearth, and a bottle of champagne chilled in an ice bucket.
“This is something.”
In front of the fireplace he took both of her hands. “I heard what you said earlier, that your submission must be earned by a man you love, one who loves you in return and wants forever.”
Self-protectively, she wrapped her arms around herself.
“I’ve realized a lot since we’ve been apart. The truth is, Chelsea, I love you, and I don’t want to live without you.”
“You…” She hugged herself tighter. Is this real?
“Everything you want, so do I. Love. Forever. Marriage. Children.”
“Oh, Alexander.”
“As Gavin pointed out, the biggest part of success in a relationship—any relationship—is excellent communication. From that standpoint, I let you down.”
Studying him, she tipped her head to the side.
“I didn’t want you to end up with Evan, but if that brought you happiness, I would have…” He dragged a hand through his hair. “That’s a lie. I’m not sure I’m capable of standing by and watching you with any other man.”
Alexander lowered himself to one knee, in the same place where he always had her kneel for him.
“Chelsea Barton, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
He reached for her hand as he looked up at her.
So many thoughts tumbled through her mind. This was everything she wanted. She’d spent nights dreaming of this moment, yet she’d never believed it would become a reality. “Where does dominance and submission fit into that?”
“Wherever we decide it does.”
“You once told me you can’t imagine a relationship without it.”
“Is that what you want?”
She shook her head. “No. But I don’t know that I want to live it all the time.”
“As I said, everything is a negotiation.”
“I agree.”
“In that case, Chelsea, will you marry me?”
She met his gaze, in his captivating eyes, she saw love, and maybe a touch of apprehension. Was he afraid she’d refuse?
Words lodged in her throat, and tears blinded her vision.
“Put me out of my misery? Kneeling here is fucking uncomfortable.”
“Tell me about it, Sir.” She couldn’t help but smile. “And yes. Yes, yes! Yes. I’ll marry you, Sir.” God the honorific was so natural, and saying it was a welcome relief.
“You’ve made me the happiest man on earth.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stunning engagement ring. The brilliant diamond was shaped like a heart.
“Oh, Sir. It’s breathtaking.”
He slipped it onto her finger, and the fit was perfect.
Flabbergasted, she shook her head. “How did you know?”
“I might have had a little assistance from Jennifer.”
She blinked. “My executive admin?”
“Chelsea, I’ll go to any lengths to figure out how to make you happy. And I selected the ring shape on purpose so that you will always remember that I’ve given you my heart. I know. There are things that we need to discuss. I’ll let you set the wedding date, and you can take as long as you need as long as you know you’re mine.”
He got to his feet and pulled her against him. Leaning into him, she wound her hands around his neck.
“Mine.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Master Alexander kissed her deeply, as if he would never let her go. And she realized that was his intent.
“I want to get started on our future, make love to you, and also have a scene so that we can embrace all aspects of who we are and this beautiful dynamic we share.”
Her insides turned molten. “Take me, Sir.”
“In that case, present yourself to me, my sub.”
His possessive inflection sent response galloping through her. This was her homecoming.
Her fingers shaking, the diamond winking in the overhead light, she stripped.
He inspected her, but more gently than he ever had before, cupping her breasts and squeezing with the most stimulating touch. He tweaked her nipples to full arousal. His touch was a full-on sensual assault. “Thank you, Sir.”
“I love it when you use your manners.”
He traced a fingertip across her lips, and dutifully she opened her mouth. In a promise of what was to come, he slipped inside.
Then he continued his lazy exploration, moving lower to investigate the insides of her pussy lips. “Beautiful. Smooth and silky.”
She was wet for him, ready.
With his masterful touch, he teased her clit, making her jerk in helpless response.
“Were you hoping I might do this tonight?”
Since he wanted truth from her, she saw no point in lying. “Not consciously. But honestly, I haven’t stopped thinking of you, hoping against hope that something like this would happen.”
He rubbed her clit harder, then he inserted a finger inside her. “We’re perfect for each other, Chelsea.”
Before she could respond, he resumed his Dom mode and dropped his hand, leaving her frustratingly on the edge.
He moved to the mantel and picked up two lengths of rope, allowing them to dangle from his hands. “In keeping with the evening’s theme, I’m going to use rope to bind you while I give you your first spanking as my future wife.”
She shifted, trying to keep away the orgasm that threatened.
“Give me your wrists.”
When they were secure, he bent to tie her ankles. The rope abraded her skin, adding a whole new sensation. Wryly, she thought they should have had a satin and lace theme for the evening.
With great intent, he pulled off his belt. “Cowhide leather for your skin,” he said. “Of course.” He doubled over the leather and snapped it in front of her face. Then he snared her chin with his thumb and forefinger.
“You want this?”
She sought reassurance in the depths of his drownable eyes. “Yes, Sir.”
“Then ask for it.”
“Please, Sir. Spank me for the first time as your submissive.”
Before she’d finished speaking, he’d scooped her up and carried her to the couch, where he knocked aside balloons before sitting and positioning her helplessly across his lap. She desperately wriggled around, trying to find a position that wouldn’t end with her being dumped on the hardwood flooring.
Beneath her, she felt the protective power of his muscles.
For long minutes, he rubbed her skin.
“Thank you, Sir. I’ve missed this.” She all but purred.
“So have I.”
This new level of honesty made her heart swell.
Slowly, Master Alexander increased the speed of his strokes, making them deeper, until her breasts jiggled.
“Are you ready?”
“More than, Sir.”
He laid the leather to her deliciously, making her moan, drawing out her pleasure. Even though they’d played together repeatedly, she’d never experienced anything like this. “Mmm…”
“You like this?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Her limbs loosened from the pleasure unfurling in her.
“Call me Master.”
She exhaled, remembering that night at the Den when he told her she shouldn’t use that word because he was a Dom, but not her Dominant. “Sir?”
Instead of responding, he continued to spank her sore buttocks.
“Master,” she whispered.
“Fuck.” He delivered the remaining spanks, then flipped her over and cradled her in the comfort of his arms. “I’ll never tire of hearing you say that.”
“I won’t get tired of saying it.” The tears she’d been holding back now spilled. As if a dam had burst, she couldn’t stop. “I love you. You, Sir.”
He released her bonds and gently brushed away a teardrop.
“Please, Sir, I need you inside me.”
During the time they’d been apart, she’d ached for him. Since she knew that he was the man she loved, she hadn’t even considered anyone else, even when Sara, who’d originally taken her to the Den, invited her to a play party.
Kicking aside balloons, Master Alexander carried her upstairs.
Then, keeping her balanced, he pulled back the bedcovers before placing her on the mattress. He undressed, tossing his clothes haphazardly around the room, before ripping open a condom, and rolling the sheath down his cock.
“Later I want you from behind. Now, I just want to look at your face as you tell me again that you’ll marry me.”
He bent over her and licked her pussy, eating her until she was tossing her head deliriously and whimpering all his honorifics in a single word.
“Tell me what I want to hear,” he urged.
She heard the threat. There would be no orgasm until she said the words. “Yes, Master. I’ll marry you and be yours in all ways.”
“I’ve reserved the Den for a private weekend with you, if you’re agreeable.”
“So I heard.” He looked at her. “Master Damien didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to tell me.”
“So much for surprises,” he lamented.
“Except for the biggest, happiest one of my life.”
With that, he knelt between her legs, cockhead pressing against her needy pussy.
He drove into her with a single, hard, fast stroke.
She moaned her appreciation. “Fuck me like you own me, my future husband.”
“Every day, if necessary,” he said, reaching between them to press his thumb against her clit.
He kept her gaze ensnared. She loved watching him watch her.
With a raised eyebrow, he increased the force of his thrusts, pistoning his hips as he took her fiercely. Then, lips set with intention, he pressed harder on her clit.
She arched and screamed out her orgasm.
Only when she was satisfied did he come.
He collapsed on top of her, somehow also managing to hold her tight. “I love you, Chelsea.”
“And I love you, Sir.” She exhaled as much as she could with such a large man bearing down so dominantly on her.
“I need to get some arnica on your stripes.”
“I’m okay if they stay red for as long as possible,” she confessed. Seeing them in the mirror for a few days would be a delicious reminder of their evening together.
He lifted onto one shoulder. “I want you healed so I can tawse you in a few days.”
“Oh?” Excitement and nerves intertwining, she ran her fingers through his hair.
“I’ll be sure you have as many of my marks as you want. Anything to please you.”
If her life never got any better than it was at this moment, she’d be happy forever.
“But first…” he began.
How could there be more? “Yes?”
“To continue your Western theme, you get to be a cowgirl and ride me.”
“Really?” In surprise, Chelsea blinked. “I thought men weren’t good for a second time so fast.”
“Girl, it’s going to be a while before I’ve had enough of you.”
She giggled as he moved quickly, rolling them over. He made short work of disposing of the condom and donning another. Heaven above, her man was magnificent. Even though she was already a little tender, she straddled him, taking his cock deep as he held her waist between his strong palms.
“We’re going to do this more often.”
“Mmm,” she approved. She liked it, too.
“Be a good girl and sit up straighter. Show me those beautiful breasts.”
Following his command, she arched her back slightly as she drew her shoulder blades together. Everything he asked of her made her achingly aware of her femininity, and that added to her confidence.
“That’s it.”
With that, he took hold of her nipples, pinching and twisting, driving her to distraction. On a loud scream, she orgasmed. “Master!”
“Fuck yes.” He growled, a low, possessive sound as he orgasmed inside her, marking her as his. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” He took her head between his palms and pulled her down until her face was within inches of his. “My sub,” he said.
“Yours, Sir.”
“Forever.” He kissed her passionately, sealing the deal.