In the Den Read online

  The physical exercise did little to relieve her tension.

  When she entered the kitchen, Damien was standing in front of the stove, whisking something in a pan. “Right on time,” he said.

  “Security cameras?” she guessed. “That’s how you knew I was on my way back. You were watching me?”

  “You were always in my sight.”

  “I don’t know whether to be relieved or freaked out.”

  “Grateful,” he suggested. “If you’d had any troubles, I’d have found you. And I knew when to have the hot chocolate ready.”

  “Hot chocolate?” She stamped the snow off her feet, hung up her coat then wandered across the room. “With milk?”

  “Of course.”

  She glanced around. “Where’s the little packages?”

  “I’m insulted,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “It’s homemade. Milk, cocoa powder, sugar, a pinch of salt.”

  “No packages?” she asked again.

  “No packages,” he confirmed.

  “Homemade?” she repeated.

  “With whole milk.”

  Little things like this were why she was falling for him. “I’m salivating.”

  “Have a seat at the table. I’ll bring you a mug.”

  “Is Gregorio gone?”

  “Yes. He and I will finish up tomorrow.” He filled two mugs.

  Catrina sat in her usual chair. It struck her that they’d spent enough time together to develop a routine, patterns. And always, she was on Damien’s right hand side.

  “You didn’t have to do this,” she said as he slid a yellow ceramic mug in front of her. Gratefully, she wrapped her cold hands around it and lifted it close to her face. “But I’m glad you did. It smells divine.” She breathed in the rich, chocolate scent. “Thank you.”

  “A Dom takes care of his sub, always.”

  She looked up at him. He’d remained standing.

  “It’s a responsibility I take seriously.”

  When she didn’t respond, he added, “One I’m honored to have.”

  Again, he’d taught her a lesson. Being a dominant was about more than meeting someone’s physical needs. Emotions and feeling could create a ball of complication that took time and energy to work through. And he not only seemed to feel obligated, but also compelled to untangle the mess. No relationship with a man, ever, had coaxed her to commit to that type of energy.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt your afternoon’s work,” she said.

  He took a chair, turned it backwards and straddled it as he faced her. “The schedule can be rearranged. Whatever is bothering you needs to be discussed.”

  She took a drink of her chocolate. “It’s amazing.” Rich and creamy, warming her from the inside.

  “Talk to me,” he encouraged her.

  “I’m sure Gregorio filled you in.”

  “Not at all. This is between us, Milady. Gregorio is loyal to a fault. To both of us.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” she admitted, repeatedly tracing the handle, stalling. If she had wanted to talk about this with him, she would have already done so. “This experience has been so much more than I could have imagined. Thank you for it. You’re right. I’ll be a much better Domme. I guess part of me isn’t ready for it to be over.”

  “We’re not done yet.”

  “I know.” That frightened her the most. It was already becoming difficult to imagine life without him. And she was determined to be self-sufficient.

  “We have an appointment in the dungeon,” he reminded her.

  “I didn’t forget.”

  “And a weekend ahead of us.”

  She told herself to enjoy the moment rather than living in the future.

  “Would you like to go out to dinner?”

  “Do we have any leftovers? I think the hot chocolate has spoiled my appetite. And yeah, my mother taught me better.”

  “We can start our play earlier that way,” he said. “If you’re hungry afterwards, we can go out to dinner then. This afternoon, I prefer you naked.”

  The way he lowered his eyelids slightly as he looked at her and reached across to tuck the hair behind her ears made her thought process scramble.

  Common sense urged her to run away, but a stronger compulsion forced her to stay.

  He made dinner while she set the table.

  They worked in tandem, already having learned to anticipate the other’s needs.

  Generally the conversation flowed, but not tonight. He seemed to be giving her long spaces in case she wanted to fill the silence. Since she really didn’t know how to say what was on her mind, she remained silent and picked at her food, using the hot chocolate as an excuse not to eat.

  When the kitchen was clean, he said, “Would you still like to meet downstairs? I’m happy to take you out, maybe to a movie? A night club? Bowling?”

  “Bowling?”

  “Thought I’d see if you were paying attention.”

  “My average is ninety-nine,” she said. “So I only go with girlfriends and mainly for the beer.”

  “We could hang out upstairs if you prefer.”

  “No.” She shook her head. Talking was the last thing she wanted to do. “I’d prefer to play, if you would.”

  “Ten minutes? Be waiting on your knees in the third room on the left.”

  She frowned. “That’s the one with the St. Andrew’s cross.”

  “It is. You ever been on one?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Sublime experience. You’ll enjoy it.”

  The idea of being spread wide and attached to the wooden structure shaped like an X sent a jolt through her. And if it hadn’t, the look on his face would have.

  “Time is ticking, Milady. You’ll want to be ready when I get there.”

  She didn’t need to be told a second time.

  It felt odd to be walking through the Den by herself. Without dozens of people around, the rooms seemed extra-large, and her footsteps echoed hollowly.

  She descended the stairs and made her way to the room he’d indicated. She took in the St. Andrew’s cross and something odd happened inside. Anxiousness drifted away, leaving her strangely relaxed. When she’d arrived almost two weeks ago, his orders had made her nerves taut. Now they settled her.

  After taking off her clothes and folding them neatly, she knelt. Her hearing was attuned for sounds of him. And because of the home’s emptiness, she was aware of each step that brought him closer to her.

  Catrina spread her knees apart and put her hands behind her neck. As he entered, she lowered her gaze to the floor.

  “Damn, woman, no one would know you weren’t a sub. You look perfect there.” He walked around her. “Very pleasing, Milady.”

  “Thank you, Damien.”

  “It’s difficult at times to play with you. I’d rather fuck you.”

  She looked up. “That would be okay, too,” she said.

  “Onto the cross.”

  The structure seemed more imposing than it did when she affixed subs to it. “Which direction?” she asked. Nerves unexpectedly skittered through her as she wondered what he had planned. So much for feeling settled.

  “Facing me.”

  She’d been afraid of that.

  He made quick work of securing her wrists and ankles.

  “I’m going to introduce you to the crop.”

  “Good thing you tied me up before you said that.”

  “Scared?”

  “Should I be?”

  “Yes.”

  Her stomach dropped.

  “You have your safe word.”

  She nodded.

  Damien made a show of rolling back his cuffs. She wanted to look away, but instead, she was transfixed.

  She tracked his every motion as he crossed to the wall and selected a crop with a large flapper. “This is going to hurt,” she said.

  “I’m sure it will.”

  “Could we trade it in for a flogger?”r />
  “Have you ever used one on a sub’s testicles?”

  “Once.”

  “Then you should know what it feels like. How it can feel like a feather and how it can sear and how to mix it up for maximum effect.”

  With the way she was facing, it meant he intended to use it on her most delicate places.

  He tested the length, sending it whistling through the air.

  She gasped.

  “You’ll start infinitely soft. You can increase a bit, but on sensitive areas, you need to exercise exquisite control. But your nipples can take more than you might think. And so can your pussy.”

  She shrank back.

  “Shall we start with your pussy?”

  Catrina licked her lower lip.

  “Milady?”

  The word halt ran through her mind, but it didn’t come out of her mouth.

  He laid the crop’s length against his calf. “Look at me. Not it. At me.”

  She did.

  “There are things you need to be cautious with when you’re in charge. But have you ever known me to give you more than you can bear?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then when you’re ready, ask for the first blow.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “How can I help?”

  “Kiss me?” The request shocked her. She wasn’t a woman who asked for anything, especially comfort.

  But he responded instantly. With a smile, he took a few steps toward her and wrapped his hand in her hair. He angled her head back. “My pleasure.”

  He gave her the gentlest of kisses, pulled away, let her catch her breath, then leaned in again. Over the course of twenty or thirty seconds, he played with her, teasing, taking more, offering more.

  Forgetting her fear, she kissed him back, meeting the thrust of his tongue, then opening her mouth when he plundered the depths.

  She wanted to put her arms around him, but he had her trapped. The kiss lasted forever and with her surrender, she said the things she couldn’t out loud.

  “Shall we get on with it?” he asked as he ended the kiss.

  “Will you fuck me after?”

  “You can count on it, Milady. I’ve desired you all day.”

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  He ran his palm over the crown of her head. “You please me. Again and again.”

  For those words, she’d do anything.

  He moved away. She realized her back was arched. His kiss had reassured her to the point she was more placid, no longer shrinking in her bondage. Instead, she was allowing the straps to support her weight.

  “The crop has a long rod. That can serve the same function as a cane. Be ultra-careful with the way you use it. I’m not saying you can’t use it anywhere, but you’d better know what you’re doing, how your sub is doing and how much force you’re using. If they’re flying, it’s even more incumbent on you to use caution. The flapper, on the other hand…”

  He trailed the leather down her chest, between her breasts, then lower, over the slight swell of her stomach.

  She tensed before he hit her. But when it was over, she exhaled. “That wasn’t what I expected.”

  “Milady, one of these days, you’ll trust me.”

  “I kind of liked it.”

  “Of course you did. I want to arouse you.”

  “Do it again?”

  He did. He tapped her cunt until her whole body loosened.

  “How do you like it?”

  “More than I imagined I might.”

  He brushed her nipples with the flapper until they each hardened. As he continued, he used more pressure.

  “I like,” she said.

  “Sorry?”

  She realized she’d mumbled. “I like it.”

  “Ready for more?”

  “I don’t know. Am I?”

  “Tell me if you’re not.”

  But she was. The hits came faster and he mixed it up, striking her breasts, her belly, her pussy, her inner thighs.

  She understood how it could be used differently to cause anguish, even damage, but in the hand of a master, this was ultimate seduction.

  “Let go,” he told her.

  “I did.”

  “Not yet you haven’t.”

  His crop seemed to be everywhere at once, licking, biting, caressing.

  She closed her eyes and allowed her head to loll forward.

  She was aware of him saying something, but she had no idea what. Her body burned with the fire he created.

  Her pussy felt hot and in response, she became damper. The juxtaposition surprised her.

  “Yes, Milady. Orgasm from my beating.”

  She knew that wasn’t possible, but she didn’t have the energy to argue.

  He cropped her swollen breasts and nipples.

  Her body jerked and she screamed. But he was relentless, dragging sensation from deeper than it had ever been before. “Damien? Damien!”

  “Take it.” He tapped her cunt dozens of times, never ceasing.

  “I…” She couldn’t get there.

  “What do you want?”

  An orgasm. Him.

  She arched forward when he blazed a path up her inner thighs, the squared-off end of the flapper nipping at her swollen clit. “Damn it.”

  “Tell me,” he encouraged.

  “I want to come.”

  “Ask.”

  His voice seemed to come from a long way off.

  The whole time, he continued to work her body. There wasn’t an inch of her skin that didn’t zing with fever.

  He went back to the gentle tapping on her pussy. After the recent blazes, this was maddeningly soft.

  When she didn’t respond, he used the leather to brutally lick her labia. She screamed. The louder her cries, the harder he hit. She yelled, tugged at her bonds, twisted her body. “I want to come! Fuck it, Sir, I want to come!”

  She heard the crop clatter to the floor.

  “That’s it.”

  Then his fingers were in her pussy, and he pressed against her G-spot. He forced the orgasm from her, and she sobbed, desperate, frantic, grateful.

  “Now, Milady, the fucking.”

  Damien undressed and put on a condom. “On your tiptoes.”

  She wouldn’t have known it was possible, but he managed to drive his cock up inside her, fucking her while she was fully tied.

  If she’d had any doubt before now, it was erased. Damien had dominated her. Thoroughly. Completely.

  She realized that, in the throes, she’d used the word Sir as he’d requested at least a month ago. In the moment, it had been inevitable.

  One of his arms around her back, the other on her butt, he bent his knees and surged up inside her, filling her desperate pussy.

  “I… Yes.”

  “That’s it, Catrina, that’s it. Give me everything you have. Your respect, your trust, your submission.”

  He fucked her so hard, so deep, she had no choice. “Yes. Sir! Sir, sir, sir.” She struggled in her bonds, wanting to touch him.

  Seeming to know it, he kissed her, brought her more firmly against him.

  That drove her madder. Her body was still sensitized from his crop, and the skin-to-skin abrasion made her wild.

  He continued his generous assault, giving her more and more, shoving her over the edge.

  She curled her toes as she dropped her head onto his shoulder. “Take me, Damien.”

  He tightened his grip as his movements became shorter. He gave a final thrust, then with a masculine, guttural sound, he pulsed inside her

  She didn’t mind the bruises she was sure to have on her ass. The desperation in his grip made it worthwhile.

  He held her for a long time, her head on his shoulder, his arms looped around her.

  “Thank you, Milady.”

  The way he held her combined with the way they breathed together created a pulsing intimacy.

  His penis slowly softened and slid out of her. He drew back and placed a thumb be
neath her chin. “Let me untie you.”

  He took his time, caressing her skin as he released each limb. He looked at her, skimming a mark he’d left on her breast. “I’ll put some cream on that.”

  “It’ll be fine,” she said.

  “I said I’ll put some cream on it.”

  She nodded.

  He grabbed a tube from the counter and came back. His ministration was heart-meltingly tender.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “No worse for wear.” Catrina smiled. “Thank you.” Now that the moment had passed, she couldn’t believe how exposed she’d allow herself to be.

  They each dressed, and he didn’t say much. Her stomach knotted. Tonight she’d been more open and vulnerable than she’d ever been with anyone, and it disturbed her. She’d released every inhibition, allowed herself to be mastered. And she didn’t know what to think. Her brain felt as if it were filled with a red fog.

  “After you, Milady.”

  With old-world manners, he held open the door and nodded, silently communicating that she should walk in front of him.

  He showered with her, and the damnable man took such wonderful care of her that she wanted to stay here forever.

  Before he’d even rinsed her off, he had her aroused. She rubbed her pussy against his thigh.

  “I’ll take care of you when we go to bed,” he promised, turning off the faucet.

  “You know, I’ve decided I hate this orgasm denial thing you do.”

  He exited the shower, grabbed two towels and wrapped the first around her shoulders. “Yeah?”

  “Really hate it.”

  “I’m amenable to listening to your objections. I’m not likely to be swayed.”

  She towel dried her hair while he dressed in a pair of lightweight workout pants and worn-to-soft T-shirt.

  “Wine?” he offered.

  “Sparkling water. With lime, if we have it.”

  “We do. I’ll have it ready for you in the living room.”

  After brushing her hair, she put on yoga pants and a sweater. Barefoot, she joined him on the couch. She rested her back against the arm, facing him, sitting cross-legged.

  She accepted the water.

  “You’ve been on edge all day. Yes, I’ve requested you delay your orgasm twice, but your reaction seems a little out of proportion. Is that what’s really going on? Or is this a camouflage?”

  Would she ever notice that in one of her subs? And if she did, would she probe deep enough to uncover the answer? Most likely not, she acknowledged. Her boys showed up and scened with her. She knew what they wanted and she did her best to provide it. In the future, she’d be considerably more aware.