Текст книги "Save Us"
Автор книги: Cynthia Dane
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
As he moves through the bedroom, I roll over to face him…
…And to flip him off like a mature adult.
“What the hell is that for?” he asks, standing in the bathroom doorway.
“I dunno. I’m sure you deserved it for something.” Before he can disappear behind a locked door, I continue, “It’s the principle of the thing.”
“Your insolence is noted.”
I stare down that look in his eye. He relents, going to the bathroom and leaving me alone.
Now it’s my turn to pick up my collar and gaze at the shining diamonds. Such a simple piece of jewelry that means so much.
I want to throw it across the room. I want to hold it to my chest. I want to put it back on.
The war in my mind continues to rage, and I’m not sure why.
Chapter 11
IAN
We’re in The Dark Hour. Together.
Together.
No, not sexually, as much as I would love to see Kathryn pull a Stephanie May and suck my cock in front of everyone. She’s never going to do that.
We’re here, though. We’re on a date, even if other people don’t know that. Tonight is the last night of my darling’s training, and I fully intend on going as far as I can with her here.
“I’m not sure I can…” Kathryn hangs near the door of the coat check. We’re the only ones in here, aside from the woman behind the counter, matching up tickets and doing her best to ignore us. “I mean… people out there know us, Ian.”
She’s dressed to kill in a black number that hugs her curves and accentuates the fairness of her hair and skin. She’s dressed up the collar with another necklace dangling in her cleavage, trying to throw off anyone’s scent regarding what we’re up to. I wish she would settle the hell down. Kathryn is beautiful, and she should know it.
“You will be fine,” I say, clasping my hands on her shoulders. After tilting her head up, I look her in the eye, smiling, reassuring. “Be yourself. I’m not asking you to be anyone other than who you are tonight.”
She vehemently points to the collar.
“Babe, it’s fine. I’m not going to ask you to do anything sexual. You don’t even have to touch me tonight.”
“Then what is the point of this?” Kathryn looks about ready to rip off her collar.
“To remind you of your role tonight. I want you to be yourself so we can protect your image, but you’re still my sub. All you need to do is follow my commands. Nothing sexual. Do you understand? We’re here to relax and have fun.”
She snorts as if she doesn’t believe me.
Someone comes into the coat check. I step back, putting distance between us and acting as if we truly are our cover – two workmates out to shake the stress. Not like that.
“Well if it isn’t the devil himself.”
James extends his hand to shake mine as girlfriend Gwen takes their coats up to the counter. When James turns to Kathryn, however, he meets an uncommon sight.
“Fancy seeing you here as well, Ms. Alison,” he says. I don’t think he and Kathryn have met much before. “Here together, or…?”
I wait until Gwen has joined us before answering. “Kathryn and I have been working nonstop on The Grand project, as you know. We decided this was a good place to get some drinks and unwind. And who knows?” I wink at James, then Gwen. “Maybe there are some nice subs running around here.” What? Just because I’m going steady with Kathryn doesn’t mean no eye candy for either of us.
“Why don’t you join us for drinks? Gwen and I have no plans other than taking in the sights and maybe having some… well, you know.”
God love this place, it’s always about sex.
We head out as a foursome, which is in Kathryn’s favor, as it throws off anyone wondering if we’re here as a couple. Why wonder that when we walk through the main door with two other people? Besides, people know we’re working together. We’re all over the news when it’s a slow day. Not to mention whatever the Andrews are blabbing.
There’s an empty table to the side of the room where we sit and enjoy more than one glass of whatever we feel like having. I order Katie and me a couple of Old Fashioneds. She’s sitting next to me on the same couch, but we’re distant, her legs crossed toward me but my hands respectfully away from her.
I don’t want it to be this way. I want it to be like at the Château, where I threw my arm around her and kissed her in front of everyone.
I want everyone to know that she’s mine. Maybe not my sub, but at least my girlfriend. What man wouldn’t be proud to call a woman like her his girlfriend? Look at her! Listen to her! For fuck’s sake, smell her perfume! A woman with that much good taste deserves to be in a quality relationship.
If only it could be me for years to come.
James repeats something that I missed, lost in my thoughts as I am. Kathryn makes a quip to Gwen, and you would never guess this was anything more than four people sharing an evening.
It’s Saturday night, meaning the club quickly fills up. When clubs fill up, it means even VIP guests have difficulty finding an empty place to sit. Not that many come here to not at least chat for a while… before they go have their fun with their dates or the people they pick up.
“These seats taken?” Someone leans over the back of James and Gwen’s couch, extending his hand for a quick shake. “This place is getting packed, and I have yet to see some ass on that stage.”
Laughter covers the table as we are joined by Henry Warren and Monica Graham, two people I never expected to join the likes of me, but fuck it, Henry and James are known buddies. It’s not that I don’t know Henry Warren, I simply haven’t done much business with him outside of what my father delegates to me. Like getting money for The Grand.
The couple shares a couch with James and Gwen. Without being told to, Monica orders drinks from a server. It’s not assertive. She’s the type of woman to take a server to the side, whisper her order, and then rejoin her Dom, content with the service rendered. In fact, she’s looking pretty smug as she perches on the edge of Henry’s lap, and I can’t blame her. Especially with a rock like that twinkling on her hand.
I look at Kathryn’s hand. She’s not wearing any rings. For a half-hearted minute I consider buying her a ring. Not an engagement ring, hell no. A simple thing she can wear on any finger and be reminded of me when she looks down. Something to wear aside from the collar…
…Which she touches now, looking at Monica, who wears an understated collar to go with her outfit. I’ve seen her real one. A huge gaudy thing made of silver and diamonds. Not very practical on common nights out. Not that they’re the most practical couple around.
Kathryn and Monica exchange looks. I’m caught in between. The woman knows from the Château that Kathryn and I are at least an item. What she doesn’t know, however, is that Kathryn is acting as my sub.
Or at least until now. Because I am under no delusion that Monica doesn’t know now. She won’t stop gazing at Kathryn or the inconspicuous collar around her neck. I know we’re fucked when she looks at me with that knowing smile.
Thankfully, she doesn’t lean in to Henry’s ear. She would never. She wants to stay on our good side. I don’t know what it means, though.
More drinks are poured. Kathryn especially downs hers quickly, and I feel weird asking her to top off my drink before Monica has the chance. Nobody pays Katie any mind as she serves me drinks.
“You okay?” I whisper, as James and Henry are distracted by a mutual friend.
She shrugs. “I’ve been worse…”
Yes, and things are about to get even worse.
Because what is a party without the Andrews showing up to fuck with shit.
Shouts of greetings go up, and even I’m caught up in the fray as Lana and Ken practically shove Kathryn into my lap so they can share our couch. That wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the look of horror crossing my poor Katie’s face.
I wrap my arm around her anyway. This place is getting so packed that hardly anyone would notice us being cozy anyway. Or at least I hope.
“Do they have to be here?” she asks.
I pat her shoulder. “Do you want to go?”
Shock covers her complexion. “And be seen leaving together?”
We look over in time to see Henry and Monica eyeing us suspiciously.
I don’t fear that anyone here is going to out us as a couple. Not to mention, I have nothing to lose from people deducing that Kathryn is not only my girlfriend, but my sub. Yeah, I have nothing to lose. I am fully aware that Kathryn has a reputation to protect, especially in this club. She’s not an established switch like Lana Andrews is, and full-time Dommes can be… a freakish bunch.
Now, now, don’t get on my ass. I don’t mean that they’re freaks. God knows this planet needs a healthy crop of Dommes running around putting men – and some women, if you’re related to Henry Warren – in their places. But they have a lot to prove and don’t have time to deal with women who aren’t committed to the lifestyle. I’ve seen Kathryn in this club with Domme friends. I don’t doubt she does business with them. If any of them see her acting submissive toward me, well… I don’t know what would happen, but it probably wouldn’t be good, and she would probably blame me for it.
I don’t know what our end game here is anymore. When I imagined bringing my love here, I saw us relaxing alone – maybe chatting to a couple of people, but mostly alone – taking in a show, or perhaps escaping to a back room when nobody is looking. They’ve got toys here that I don’t, and I think Kathryn might like them.
This is our last night like this. I want to make the most of it.
Instead, we’re hanging out with a bunch of kinkster couples and trying not to look too much like a couple. Kathryn sure as hell isn’t relaxing against me. Too bad. I would really love a snuggle.
“How are the renovations coming?” Ken asks after his second drink. He has to yell to be heard over the rabble of the busy club on a Saturday night. “When does the hotel open again?”
“Six weeks!” My voice is going to die at this rate.
“Six weeks?” James laughs on the other side of the table. “This has to be the fastest remodel and business opening in history.”
“You’d think so, right?” These people also knew the answer to that question. Invitations for the opening night ball went out a month ago.
Lana sends a wicked smile in my direction. “Maybe you guys should get some great entertainment for the ball. Like this shit about to go on stage.”
I haven’t even looked at the stage in thirty minutes. It was closed off and empty for so long that it didn’t seem pertinent to strain my vision. Now that I’m looking, I see a Domme dressed in a black corset and knee-high boots. She’s got a whip in her hand and black makeup all over her face.
Her blond ponytail makes me think of Katie. I feel her tighten in my hold.
“Brace yourself, my dear,” Lana says, patting her husband’s chest. “I know how much you love a good Domme going to town on a sub. Especially if it’s male.”
“Think it’s too much to ask for some pegging?”
“I think that only happens on Fridays, dear.”
The others laugh. I’m too busy keeping an eye on Katie and making sure she’s not about to pass out.
“I know her,” she says to me. She’s only two inches away from me, and yet it feels like miles. “That’s Dawn Lovett. We have drinks sometimes.”
I recognize that tone to her voice. Lamenting. Embarrassed.
Sad.
No surprise when the show of the night is a Domme and her male sub, a guy she picks out of the audience. The solo sub has the stupidest grin on his face, which Mistress Dawn quickly thwacks out of him with a crack of the whip.
Everyone around me shudders in delight.
Except for Kathryn. She’s shuddering in something else entirely.
“Oh, this guy’s gonna get it good,” Gwen says. “I’ve seen this Domme before. She doesn’t pull any punches.”
“Now what kind of man comes to a place like this and thinks he’s going to get any woman he wants?” Dawn has her sub’s chin cupped as she chains him to a cross. “Go on, honey, tell the whole club what kind of foul creature you are.”
He speaks into her mic, his low, submissive voice echoing between every warm body. “I’m a slut, Mistress.”
She grabs his cock, teasing it with a firm grip before walking away, laughing. “I’ll say. You like having your skin tickled with a whip, slut?”
Of course he does. Because he’s a male sub who volunteered for this.
I don’t pay much attention to the show. I keep my eyes on Kathryn, who is watching with rapt attention, her eyes so far away that it’s possible nobody would be able to get through to her. This theory is proven true when Lana says something and doesn’t get an answer. Huffing, Lana turns away again.
“She’s probably thinking about doing it to Ian,” she says… much too loudly.
The people on the other couch look over at us.
At me.
At Kathryn.
“Don’t be silly,” Kathryn quickly interrupts. “I would never waste my time on someone like him. Ian would rather eat grass than get spanked by anyone.”
Uh.
“Do you want it, huh?” Mistress Dawn is jerking her sub off, her hand clenched so hard around his cock that he’s wincing in exquisite pain. “Do you want me to make you come before you’re even ready? Because I will.”
Boy howdy.
“Come on,” I whisper into Kathryn’s ear. “Let’s go back before the rooms start filling up from everyone getting horny off this.”
She sits back, nearly knocking into Lana behind her.
“Do you want to sit out here any longer with these people, like this?”
My hiss finally makes its way into her brain. She shakes her head and stands up, going to an empty corner and waiting for me to follow.
I get a key for a back room, one of the only ones left. I motion for Kathryn to follow me down the hall, where I hear the faint moans of men and woman having kinky sex – and vanilla sex, I’m sure. By the time we reach our room, however, Kathryn almost refuses to go inside.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, door opening in front of me.
She doesn’t say anything. Within a few seconds she goes in, standing in the doorway and whispering to me, “Fuck me good.”
My sub almost disappears on me. I can’t let that happen.
Chapter 12
KATHRYN
No fewer than three walls are built around me.
The wall around my body protects me from the pain I feel. Pain that should be turning me on, yes, but pain nonetheless.
The wall around my heart makes sure I don’t indulge in any of those pesky feelings I have for Ian, the man clasping me to the ceiling of this borrowed room, stripping me, and pinching my nipples with tight clamps for the first time in my life.
And the wall around my mind? It keeps me from hearing the voices in my head. The voices I don’t want to acknowledge at the moment.
All these walls likewise keep me from enjoying the final scene Ian has constructed for my training. I suppose I’ll be considered an able sub by the end of this scene.
Or at least, I’ll be his sub.
Is that what I want? Do I want him tying me up on a regular basis? Denying me pleasure? Forcing it on me? Making me call him sir while he fucks me however he pleases? Debasing me?
Stripping me of everything I used to think I was?
I was having fun this week. As much fun as I could outside of the bedroom, anyway. Hell, I took that anal like a pro! I had no problem with Ian dragging me to closets and having quickies with me. I didn’t care. I liked it.
I wanted more.
Scenes are fantasies. When I’m locked away with Ian, indulging in these innermost fantasies of mine, I don’t worry about things beyond my desires. His desires. Once he dragged my submission in front of the world… once I saw that show up on display… I began to question what the fuck am I doing?
“Look at my pretty girl,” Ian says, standing before me in his crisp suit. He tugs on the nipple clamps, which I barely feel now. When they first snapped to my flesh, I cried out, my arousal deceiving me as it ran down my thigh. “Who knew that Kathryn Alison would one day be kneeling on this bed, looking like this? For me?”
Who knew, indeed?
“Do you like the feel of the clamps?”
Normally his voice would lull me into a sense of security, false or real.
“Yes, Master.”
He didn’t ask me to call him that. The word simply fell out.
I’m barely aware of what he’s doing to me. Kissing me. Licking my slit. Pinching my ass and circling his finger around my opening. One tiny piece of my brain captures these sensations and tells me that they feel good. The vast majority of it, however, says that I need to zone out and wait for this to be over.
I wish I knew why. What has happened to take me from complacent sub to a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown… not that I’ll let Ian know that? His lips are so tender against my skin, even though his words are full of the sorts of things that get me hot. It’s only a matter of time before he picks a way to fuck me. Maybe strung up like this, my lap riding in his.
Wouldn’t that be a trip?
I want that. I want him to fuck me, but I don’t think I want it like this.
Why not?
It’s Kathryn vs. Katie, ladies and gentlemen. The regular Domme versus the obedient little sub who likes to be defiled. I didn’t even know that latter girl existed until a few weeks ago, when I lost that bet to Ian and decided to follow through with it.
Oh, but I decided to follow through not a whim, but in a great desire to test out that side of myself. If I didn’t like it, fine. I would know, and could say I tried it. Except I liked it.
Not only does “Katie” exist…
But I think she only comes out for Ian.
How do I explain this to the world? How do I reconcile this with who I thought I was, who the world thinks I am? This has gone beyond my reputation. This has settled into my own self-worth and what it is I really want from life. I can’t do this fulltime. These past few days have taught me that. The sex! The thrill! The letting go of reality and remembering what it’s like to feel so fucking alive. Yeah, that often happens on the end of Ian’s cock, but… isn’t that okay?
I love feeling him on top of me. I love all the names he calls me, both affectionate and dirty. I love how he holds me in his arms as we sleep in the same bed. I love…
I love him.
My eyes open, suddenly clear and aware as I stare into the hazel depths before me. Ian stops what he’s doing – there’s a light-weight crop in his hand, and I guess he’s been patting my thigh this whole time. Does he realize that I didn’t feel it? That I tuned it out? My skin is red and blotchy. I don’t remember that happening.
“Ian…” My mouth is getting away from me again. I want him to hold me.
Please.
“What is it?” His face twists into concern. I think it’s concern, anyway. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Ian moves to remove the nipple clamps.
Yes, I’m hurt. My pride is hurt. My heart is hurting. My brain hurts from analyzing who I am. I don’t say these things, though. I say, “No. I wanted to say that I love you.”
He kisses me, raw, hungry, powerful. Any power I’ve lost over the past few weeks is restored in me through this kiss. It’s a kiss of love.
Devotion.
Empathy.
No, Ian, you can’t empathize with my position.
“What do you want?” His hands are on my face, caressing me until I am lulled into a half-sleep. “Your last night. You can have anything you want. Just name it.”
Even though I know what he means, I can’t help but answer with, “I want to be with you.”
Somehow, he knows exactly what I’m saying. Ian drops me from my binds, removes the clamps, pushes me onto the bed, and takes me.
No, I take him.
We take each other.
My limbs wrap around him. Our tongues dance. His body overcomes mine, but I’m giving to him as much as he’s giving to me. Even though I give him this, the collar is still on, and my brain is still in the space of a sub’s.
I’m giving myself to him. I’m letting him take from me. Everything he gives to me is because I’m being so good, so obedient, so exactly what he wants in a woman. My heart overflows with a joy I never thought I’d experience – not as a sub, anyway. Yet my brain keeps ticking away all the reasons I am unhappy.
I think of those people in the main area of the club. I want to. I want to walk out there and tell this insular world that Ian is my Dom and I am his sub whenever I put on this collar. I want him to leash me. I want him to parade me around like a good girl he’s enamored with.
I want this. I can’t have it, though, because Kathryn won’t let me.
He’s inside me. I’m crying. Tears of happiness, I tell him, encouraging him to continue. He does so, gently, but I’m famished, thrusting back against him, taking him into me, refusing to let him go.
Could you tell him this for me? That I want to belong to him, now, forever? That I want moments like these for as long as I live? But you’ve gotta also tell him that it would never work out. Oh, God, it’s not going to work out!
No. No, don’t tell him. I don’t want this moment ruined. I’m reveling in too much love to go back.
Ian promised to take me away from reality, and he did that. What do I do when I have to go back to reality?
He stills within me, his grunts warning me that he’s about to climax. I wait, lips searching for his.
The moment we kiss, he comes.
Why am I crying out? It doesn’t feel any better than usual. It’s not scaring me. Yes, it feels good. Not as good as him kissing me, but good. And yet I’m crying out, my breathy moans claiming me in the same way he claims me.
“Katie,” he murmurs mid-orgasm, keeping me trapped in this fantasy world we’ve constructed. “Kathryn…”
Kathryn. The person I really am.
The person I want to remain.
Congratulations, Ian, you’ve split me into two different people. Both of them love you, but only one of them could ever be happy in the long-term with you.
It’s not Kathryn, the woman I quickly return to being.
Ian, we can’t be happy until you’ve made Kathryn happy. I don’t know how to do that. I don’t even know what the problem really is.
No, I do.
I’m a Domme, Ian. As good as this feels, it can’t sustain me forever.
I see Mistress Dawn in my mind, caressing her sub, a total stranger, but a man so in love with what she is doing to him. The power she casts upon him. I want to be her. I want him to be you.
Tell me, Ian…
Are there two of you as well?
