Текст книги "Finding Master Right"

Автор книги: Sparrow Beckett

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter 7

She stared at the monstrous door, working up the courage to knock. Why was this so difficult? For some reason, this was harder than the first time. At least then he hadn’t seen her naked, seen every vulnerable part of her. He hadn’t heard her beg, and scream, and call him Master.

Ugh. She was still embarrassed about that. Until yesterday she hadn’t even been able to text him.

All week she’d talked herself through how this session would go. She’d stay in control, making sure not to go as far. She should probably even keep her clothes on.

With a deep breath, she calmed her nerves and went to knock on the door. The gargoyle face with the knocker ring through its teeth made her smile. Only Banner would have something so ostentatious right on the front door.

The door opened before she touched it. Banner stood on the other side, wearing a gray suit and matching tie, looking all professional and fucking hot as hell.

It took effort to keep her jaw from dropping. She was pretty sure she stared much longer than was socially acceptable.

His eyes gleamed. “Sorry. I just got home from work. Meeting ran late.” The door opened wider as he stood to the side. “Come in.”

She floundered for words for a moment, then managed a husky, “Okay.” She forced her feet to move and walk inside. So much for keeping control. But it wasn’t her fault she was practically drooling on the man. He’d just stumbled onto her biggest fantasy.

Shit. Already warmth had started between her legs. She’d never be able to keep a distance this way. After she let him take her coat, she asked, “Um. Are you gonna change?”

Please say yes, then come back wearing a Hawaiian shirt and acid-wash jeans.

He’d probably make those look good too.

“Do you want me to?”

She gulped. “It’s up to you, of course. It just looks . . .” Sexy, amazing, fuckable . . . “confining.”

“Don’t worry about me, Trouble.” His gaze slid down her body. He seemed pleased. “I didn’t give you guidelines about what to wear today.”

Her nipples rubbed against her T-shirt, sensitive already. Wanting to prove she could be a good submissive, she’d followed his instructions from last time—no underwear or bra and hair down.

He made a circle motion with his finger, signaling for her to turn around.

She did, feeling her cheeks heat. Was he looking for panty lines? He wouldn’t find them.

“Very nice.”

There was a strange satisfaction in making him happy. It’d happened last time they were together too. She didn’t normally put what other people thought of her high on her priority list. Her aunt and uncle had built her up enough to not need other people’s approval. But pleasing Banner was starting to feel disturbingly good.

“Yeah, well, I figured it was a fair bet that you’d like it.”

He nodded. “I do. But I wasn’t sure if you were going to come today. You sounded pretty noncommittal in your text.”

Feeling slightly guilty, she dropped her gaze to the floor. “Sorry. It’s been a busy week at work, so I was distracted.”

“Come on. I’ll get you a drink, and you can tell me about it.”

She followed him to the kitchen, thankful they weren’t jumping right into training. Maybe some time to get to know each other better would make this feel less awkward.

In the massive kitchen, she went to sit on a stool at the breakfast bar.

“Uh-uh,” he said, shaking his finger at her. “A good sub waits for her Dom to tell her where she’s allowed to sit.”

Worry fluttered in her chest. She looked at the cold tile floor. “You’re not gonna make me kneel, are you?” Her knees were messed up from volleyball and would get uncomfortable quickly on the hard floor.

“No.” Casually, he strolled to the fridge and retrieved two water bottles. He handed one to her, then sat down at the small table on the other side of the room. With a half smile, he pointed to his lap.

He wanted her to sit there? Oh no. No, no, no. She shook her head, but he gave her a pretty frightening Dom-eye that turned her insides to mush. Her feet moved without her permission until she was standing in front of him.

She sighed. “Do we have to start this already?”

“I don’t have an on-and-off switch. If you want to be trained by me, then you’re at my disposal.” He pointed again. “Sit.”

Her body sunk onto his lap as she rolled her eyes.

A second later, he grabbed her chin and made her look at him. “Next time do it without the eye roll, little girl. That sort of thing will get you in trouble.”

She jerked away, feeling like this was getting out of her control already. But wasn’t she there to give over control? She pushed that pesky challenge from her mind. She could practice and learn without handing over the reins fully. Banner wasn’t her Dom, or ever going to be, so there was no reason to give him everything.

“I’m gonna let that go this time,” he rumbled.

Her stomach dropped at the small implied threat. What would he do if she did it again? Spank her? Make her stand in the corner? Even though it made her pussy clench with excitement, it was too embarrassing to consider for real. Besides, she’d told herself she wouldn’t push him this time.

“So, tell me about work. What’s going on?”

Now that her girly bits were all warm and achy, the last thing she wanted to talk about was work. But maybe it would calm her down so she could be objective again. “I have a few clients being discharged. I worry about them when they leave.”

“You worry they’ll end up back on drugs?”

“Most of them do.” God, sometimes her job was so depressing. “I have this one client, we’ll call him S. He gave me a hell of a time in the beginning, but he’s come so far. I feel like he can really make it. In a way that’s different than the others. He’s smart and has a lot of deep thoughts. He’s leaving next week, and if he ends up back in the clinic, I’ll be crushed.”

“You really care about your clients, don’t you?”

She nodded. “For some of them, I’m the only one left who does.”

It was silent for a moment, and she wondered if she’d said too much. Maybe she shouldn’t talk about herself so much.

“So, what made you pick that for a career?”

Her gaze dropped to her hands fiddling nervously in her lap. She thought back to her childhood. Even at the age of seven, she’d known there was something wrong with her mother. Her arms were always covered in bruises. She looked sick all the time—too thin, constantly sniffling, twitchy, and easily agitated. All signs she saw in her clients now.

Her aunt, Grace, had taken custody of Kate long before it’d gotten that bad, but her mother always resented it. She’d come by the house, begging to see Kate, promising she was clean and wanting to bring her home. Kate would stare out the window, afraid her mother would steal her away when Auntie Grace and Uncle Mark weren’t looking. Back then, she’d sort of remembered her mother’s rosy cheeks and a sunny smile from before she got sick. Brown hair that looked almost blond in the sun. Lullabies, and walks on the beach, searching for seashells to bring home. Now she wondered if she’d made it up just so she’d have some good memories of her.

“You don’t have to answer,” Banner said softly.

His voice pulled her from the unexpected reminder. “No, it’s okay. I don’t exactly know why I felt drawn to work with this population. My mother was an addict. A normal person would’ve kept as far away from it as possible.” She gave him a shaky smile. “There’s probably something wrong with me. A superhero complex or something.”

He shrugged. “It makes sense to me. You’re a sweet girl, and this is a caring profession. Plus, you have the connection with your mother, and deep down inside, you probably wish you could’ve helped her. Did you live with her your whole childhood?”

“No. My aunt and uncle raised me. They couldn’t have kids anyway. I had a happy life.”

“Good.”

“I saw my mom once in a while though. It still bothers me. I don’t even know what happened to her. Sometimes I worry she might stumble into the clinic one day. I think I’d panic. I probably should’ve picked a job outside of town.” She half-smiled. “But I love my family and friends too much.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“And the job market sucks. There’s a zillion social workers and psychology majors out there fighting for the same jobs. It’s a miracle I got as far as I did. I’m on my way to a supervisor position.” She might have been bragging slightly, bringing it up like that.

Instead of calling her out on it, he smiled. “I’m not surprised. You’re smart and driven and responsible. They’re lucky to have you.”

“Thanks,” she replied awkwardly, now kicking herself for bragging. Humility was not one of her strong suits.

She adjusted herself on his lap. The muscles in his thighs kept moving, and it was odd having this conversation so close to someone’s face. But his size made her feel petite. And sitting on his lap made her feel more submissive than when she’d first walked in. That was probably the point. He liked throwing her off balance.

“So, what do you do for work?” she asked, trying to grasp control again.

“I took over my father’s business.”

“Which is?”

He hesitated, piquing her curiosity.

She narrowed her eyes. “Hmm. Let me guess. You’re a spy.”

“No.”

“An assassin.”

He laughed.

“A hacker?”

“Nope. I make specialty soda.”

Soda? She hadn’t expected that.

“Disappointed?”

“Why would I be?”

He smiled. “Your imagination was much more interesting than the truth.”

Looking around the opulent kitchen, she said, “I didn’t realize there was so much money in soda.”

“Have you heard of the Jennings Corporation?”

Recognition hit. “Oh! That’s where I knew your name from!” She paused and thought about the size of his house, and the suit he was currently wearing, and the car he drove, and it all made sense. It was a big business and very popular on the east coast. He must be loaded. “So why all the secrecy?”

He pursed his lips and seemed to consider his words before answering. “When some girls find out I have money, they tend to want to try to make things work longer, even though it’s obvious we aren’t a good match. Or they might pretend to have feelings for me that aren’t real.”

“Oh. I get it.” She felt a bit sad for him. It must be hard to know who to trust. “Well, I’m not like that. A rich asshole is still an asshole. You don’t have to worry about me pretending to like you to get to your wallet.”

His brow arched in a dommy way, but there was amusement in his eyes. “So what other reason would you pretend to like me?”

She lifted her chin and suppressed a smile. “’Cause you’re hot, of course.”

He laughed loudly, then stood up and threw her over his shoulder, making her yelp in surprise.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

She was usually too tall for guys to manhandle this way, but Banner lifted her easily. Still, her ass was right next to his face, a point he accentuated by nipping it. She squealed and kicked her feet as he stomped through the house. At least, it felt like stomping the way her body bounced with each step.

“Ugh. You’re lucky I didn’t just eat.”

He chuckled then set her down on her feet in the living room. “Small talk is over. Shoes off, Trouble, and make it fast. Now I have to train you and feed you.”

“You don’t need to—”

He cut her off with a look of warning. “Did I tell you to speak?”

Her stomach dropped as her body went immediately into that liquid submissive state. She was losing control already, which went against her plan for the night. With a deep breath, she found her resolve and gave him her sternest expression. “Listen. I don’t think we should go as far today. In fact, I think I should probably keep my clothes on. I mean, you can teach me submission with my clothes on, right?”

“Of course. Dominance and submission aren’t always about sex. Some people in D/s relationships never have sex.”

“What?” That seemed to defeat the purpose.

“They find satisfaction in the roles without it being sexual.”

She shook her head, confused.

“Try to keep an open mind, Kate. Everyone has their own way of finding comfort in life.”

That struck a chord. How many times had she helped clients discover unconventional ways to live without their addictions? “You have a point, I suppose. But still, can we slow down a little?” She bit her lip, hoping he would understand. She wasn’t chickening out or anything, but spontaneous sex would only hurt them both in the end.

His expression remained unreadable, which frustrated her. As a social worker she prided herself in being able to read people, but he was often a mystery. She didn’t want to disappoint him. She’d come to like pleasing him. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything. Now she felt stupid.

“You can keep your clothes on,” he said. “I’d still like you to take your shoes off though. Is that a problem?”

“Oh.” Why did it surprise her that he was being reasonable? “Um. No, it’s not a problem.” A minute ago she was beginning to feel comfortable with him, but somehow it’d become awkward again.

She removed her sneakers and placed them off to the side. Nerves started in her belly. What would he do with her while keeping her clothes on? She stood in front of him, fumbling with her hands, staring at his chest, unsure of what to do from here. Should she kneel? Or ask him where he wanted her?

“A lot of Doms like to do something called inspection,” he said.

She didn’t like the sound of that.

“Since you have your clothes on, it’ll be tamer than I’m used to. With them off, you’ll feel much more vulnerable. But we’re going to do it anyway, to get you used to the idea.”

He hadn’t given her permission to speak yet, and she’d vowed to herself to at least try to follow the rules, so she only nodded her head.

“Feet apart.”

She widened her stance.

“Put your hands behind your head.” He started walking around her, slowly, as she complied. “Some Doms might have you clasp them behind your back or some other position, but I like this one because it puts your tits on display.”

Unable to help herself, she said, “Are you going to weigh me too? Then hang me up on your wall?”

He came around to her front then raised his brows. “Do you need something in your mouth to remind you not to sass me, bratty girl?”

Though she shook her head adamantly, a vision formed in her mind. Banner pushing his big cock into her mouth, holding her by the hair as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Fuck. Her pussy twinged, and she felt herself start to dampen. She looked up at Banner, wondering how she would ever keep control around him.

He let out a loud groan.

“What?” Had she exasperated him already?

“Keep looking at me like that, Kate, and I won’t be able to behave for very long.”

She felt her eyes widen. “Like what?” She tried to clear her face of emotion.

His pained expression morphed to a predatory grin. “Like you like the idea of my dick in your pretty mouth.”

“What? No! I . . . I—” She sputtered protests as her cheeks grew hot.

His cocky expression grated on her nerves. “These betray you too.” He placed his thumbs over her aching nipples and rubbed them back and forth.

The soft touch over her sensitive peaks made her body crave more. She bit down on her lip to keep from moaning.

He chuckled. “Turn around and grab your ankles.”

Still embarrassed about his accusation, she spat, “Fuck, no.” Immediately, she knew it’d been a mistake. Before she could take the words back, he had her hair in his fist.

He marched her to the couch, then sat, positioning her over his lap. Oh crap. What was her safeword again?

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to find us back in this position.” He stroked his hand over ass. Somehow, even with yoga pants on, it still felt vulnerable.

Her head dangled above the floor as she tried to balance on his knee with as much dignity as possible.

“Banner,” she whined.

“The disobedience was enough to warrant this.” He brought his giant hand down onto her ass and she hissed in a breath.

How did he manage to make it hurt over the pants?

“But then you made it worse by cursing. A pretty mouth like yours shouldn’t be saying such ugly words.” He smacked her again.

And again.

She squirmed.

“Really, Kate.” Smack. “While I love having you over my knee—” smack “—I thought you’d have learned your lesson last time.”

She rolled her eyes, trying to convince herself that his words weren’t making her hotter. “Just punish me already and stop with the lecturing!”

The silence that followed was eerie. Crap. What had she done?

A dark laugh made her heart jump to her throat. Unceremoniously, he dumped her onto the floor. She scrambled back, confused and more turned on than she should have been.

From the floor, he looked enormous. He rose to his full height, then started to unbuckle his belt, staring down at her the whole time. “Kneel properly,” he commanded.

She gulped. “Now, listen, Banner . . .”

“You do not have permission to speak unless it’s to use your safeword.” Slowly, with deliberate movements, he took off his suit jacket and placed it on the side of the couch. Then the belt landed on the cushion next to her, as if he were purposefully sending her a message. “If I have to repeat myself, I’m adding five to your count.”

She didn’t know what her count was but figured five more would suck, so she hastily got to her knees. It took effort to remember his exact instructions from last time but when he nodded curtly at her, she guessed she’d done it right.

He took his time undoing his cufflinks, then rolling up each sleeve. Damn, it tapped into every fantasy that included a suit.

Yes, yes, yes . . . roll those sleeves. His tattoos came into view, and she almost groaned. Was there such a thing as arm porn?

“Bend over the couch,” he ordered.

It took her a few seconds to comply.

“You requested your clothing stay on, and I’ll allow it for now. Keep in mind, I’ll be hitting you harder to make up for it. And if you’re rude to me again, the pants will come down. Is that understood, Kate?”

“Um.” Her throat felt dry. I guess so probably wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good. I want you to count. ‘One, Sir, two, Sir . . . Like that.”

“Okay . . . Sir.” As a second thought, she added, “How many?”

He didn’t answer right away, making her wonder if sometimes Doms didn’t plan everything out and just winged it. “Ten,” he finally said.

That wasn’t so bad. She could take ten.

The first blow stung a burning path across her ass, making her yell and go up on her toes. She hadn’t expected it yet. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be hitting her harder because of the pants. By the deep sting right across the center of both cheeks, she’d guess there’d be a nice big red welt. Fuck. And she had to do ten of these?

“Kate,” he warned.

“Uh. One, Sir.”

The belt whistled through the air, then whap!

Her entire world narrowed to a hyperawareness of every nerve ending in her posterior.

She whimpered. “Two, Sir.”

Whack.

“Ow!” She kicked out a leg and wiggled. This was awful—why did some women like it? “Three, Sir.”

Another landed right on top of the last one, and she squealed.

Punishment officially sucked. “Banner.” It was a whispered plea, but she wasn’t sure for what.

He stopped and for a silly moment, she thought it might be over. The belt fell onto the couch next to where she rested her hands. Relief swept through her, and she exhaled loudly.

“Don’t think I’m done, little one. You’ll get the full ten.”

Fingers edged under her waistband, and she panicked. “No!” She put her hand back to stop him.

He froze. “I’m just checking your skin.”

She thought he might wrestle the pants down, but he didn’t. He just waited. For her safeword? “What if I used my safeword during a punishment? Would you stop?”

“Of course. But if you deserved a punishment, and the one I chose was a hard limit for you, I’d have to think of a different one that matched the infraction. A D/s relationship is based on the Dominant being dominant. The submissive doesn’t get to decide whether they get punished or not. There are consequences for bad behavior.”

That made sense. She’d tested him and deserved every lick she got. It should have filled her with dread, but for some reason it didn’t.

“Are you going to let me check your marks so we can continue?” He paused. “Or are we done for the night?”

She didn’t want to be done, but she didn’t exactly want to finish the next six strokes either. She’d be disappointing herself if she made him stop and it wasn’t really that bad, especially not with her clit throbbing so hard she thought she might die if she didn’t orgasm soon. Leaving to go home and use her vibrator was an option. God, she’d get off in the car or maybe on her way out the door, she was so turned on.

But, no. She needed to finish this.

“Okay.” She placed her hand back on the couch and let him slowly draw her pants down.

Cool air hit her skin, reminding her of the dampness between her legs. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice. He ran his fingertips over her, the alternating tickle and soreness telling her where the biggest welts were. She let out a whimper when he pushed on them, but she wasn’t sure if it was because it hurt or turned her on.

Her cheeks grew hot when she realized she was bent over, pants down, while he stared at her ass. Again. They’d done worse last weekend but this felt different, more intrusive because he was studying marks he’d made on her. His marks. On her body.

Fuck. Why did she like this so much?

A moment later, he pulled her pants back up. She shouldn’t have been disappointed, but she was. She refused to think about what she’d actually wanted him to do. The belt disappeared from her line of vision. She tensed up, preparing for the blow, wanting it at the same time as dreading it. She was so messed up. Did everyone into kink feel this way?

Thwack.

She squealed and rocked forward on the couch. Oh crap. What number were they on?

Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

“That’s five,” he reminded her.

“Oh. Sorry, Sir.”

“Keep going.”

As she counted the next five, her voice got higher each time, and she was on her tippy toes by the end. Her ass felt like it was on fire in big wide streaks. She wanted to look in the mirror, to see the way his belt marks looked on her skin. Was it as sexy as it was in the photos she’d seen online?

Unsure of what to do next, she remained bent over, waiting for his instruction. Behind her, she heard signs that Banner was putting his belt back on.

“Mmm,” he purred. “Good girl.”

“What?”

“You didn’t move.” He took her arm and stood her up to face him. “I’m impressed.”

Embarrassed, but mostly horny, she kept her gaze on the ground and muttered, “I can be good, Sir.”

“Look at me.”

She lifted her eyes.

“Are you okay?”

Was she? Her knees were wobbly, and she could feel every mark of the belt as if it had burned into her flesh, but her clit was throbbing so hard she’d probably faint if he didn’t fuck her soon.

“I’m incredibly horny, Sir.” It surprised her to admit it. Apparently, pain made her tongue loose.

A wicked grin settled on his face. “Are you?”

She nodded, although she didn’t like feeling mocked.

“Good. That usually makes submissives more biddable. Let’s try this again.” He walked her to where they’d been standing before he’d stopped to belt her. “Bend over and grab your ankles.”

This time she didn’t balk. With a sigh, she slowly turned around and did as he said, despite the embarrassment. At least she was clothed.

He smoothed his hand down her back then squeezed both globes of her ass, making her groan. Hadn’t he already inspected there enough?

Boldly, as if he owned her, he ran his palms up the sides of her thighs. She felt like a horse being assessed for breeding or something. She let out a breath of air which blew her hair away from her face.

“Bored?” he asked, still poking and groping her.

“A little. Looking at the floor is only so interesting.”

“Stand up.”

When she did, she got woozy from the head rush.

He steadied her with a hand on her elbow. Once she nodded that she was fine, he continued his work. Hand under her chin, he tipped her head up and studied her face, then her ears and neck. She fought the urge to spout sarcastic comments, but she had no desire to earn another belting. At least not while her ass was still throbbing.

His movements were gruff at times, gentle at others. When he pushed her hair from her face, he was tender about it. Then he shoved his hand between her legs.

She hissed in a breath and tried not to move, even though her body was desperate for more. In about half a second he found her clit and rubbed it. The thin fabric didn’t provide her with any protection from the sensation.

“You’re wet.”

You don’t say, Master Investigator. It took her a moment to get control of her tongue. “Yes, Sir. I think you know why, Sir.”

He smirked. Cocky bastard.

Just when she was about to grind up against his hand, he withdrew it.

Ugh! “Are we done yet?” She tried not to sound whiny, but she couldn’t take much more of this. Not without making a serious attempt at jumping his bones. And that would end up with them both naked and in bed together again, which she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do.

“We’re done when I say we’re done,” he answered. “As a Dom, it’s my right to inspect my property anytime and anyplace I want to. The kitchen in the middle of dinner. A deserted hallway at your best friend’s wedding. In the dungeon—”

“Dungeon?” He couldn’t possibly have a real dungeon.

“Yes. Subs are definitely inspected in my dungeon.”

“Like, a for-real, legit dungeon? Here, in your house?”

His answering smile was wicked. “Yes, but I’m not sure you’re ready to see it.”

She scoffed, then narrowed her eyes. Who was he to tell her what she was ready for? That was a challenge if she’d ever heard one. “I’m not scared. I want to see it.”

“How did I know you’d say that?” He sighed, then turned on his heel. “Follow me, then, brave girl.”

When she stepped in line with him, he stopped. “Ah, ah. A sub walks behind her Dom. Eyes down unless he tells her otherwise.”

She sputtered for a moment. “But . . . but what if I walk into something?”

“You have to keep an eye on what’s happening around you, but you don’t have to rubberneck to do that. I’ll make sure you don’t bump into anything. It’s a Dom’s job to protect his sub. She’s his greatest treasure, remember.”

“The greatest treasure part sounds pretty good.”

He laughed. “So you just want to be spoiled without giving your Dom anything in return?”

She shrugged. “When you say it like that . . .”

Still laughing, he turned toward the hallway and said, “Come on, princess. Let’s see how brave you really are.”

With a sigh, she followed behind him, keeping her gaze on the floor, trusting him to steer her around obstacles and stairwells. They padded down the corridor then he stopped in front of a door.

Purposefully, she bumped into his back, just to make a point.

He turned, and she could feel the heat of his glare, even as she stared at the floor. “You can lift your head, Trouble.”

She did and felt some satisfaction in that. God, she really was trouble. Maybe submission wasn’t her thing after all.

When she looked up at his face, his sinister expression made her wither. At the same time, a tingling rushed to her pussy. She clenched her thighs together, hoping for a miniorgasm. When he looked at her like that—as if she were the entire focus of his attention, as if he not only owned her but desired her—something switched on inside her. And it wasn’t just her libido. It was as if she suddenly cared about everything and anything he thought, felt, wanted, needed. She was not only in tune but desperate to please him. There was also a hopeless affection growing deep down, where she couldn’t seem to uproot it. But, why? They weren’t even together. Why did this weird switch in her brain flip only for him? More importantly, how could she get it to turn off so she could keep some control? Right now, it felt like it was slowly slipping through her fingers.

After he opened the door and flipped on a light, he crooked a finger at her.

She paused, unable to make her body follow him. She’d been so confident a moment ago. Now, her courage had abandoned her.

His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m scared,” she blurted.

He turned to face her fully, his eyes a mixture of amusement and concern. “Now you’re scared? What are you afraid of? I promise there are no rats or skeletons in there.”

She swallowed hard. “I’m scared of the way you make me feel.” Why was she telling him this?

He took a step closer, so close she could feel the heat from his body against hers. “And how do I make you feel?”

“Like I’m losing control.” It was barely a whisper, but she knew he’d heard. She stared at his chest, avoiding the disappointment probably written on his face.

“That’s the point.”

“I don’t like it.”

“No.” He put his finger under her chin to tilt her head up, then gazed into her eyes. “You love it.”