Command (18 page)

Unfortunately, she knew it was part of her job to get him to agree to that. Bonds needed him. Julien needed him. The world needed him. So how the hell was she going to convince him to do that? “It looks so pretty out there with all that snow,” she said, glancing at him back over her shoulder. “Cold, but spectacular.”

“We can use the hot tub after our session in the dungeon.”

Just that fast, he changed her thoughts, derailing work ideas and making her internal temperature climb. Her pulse, already zinging from the brainstorming, became even threadier. “I thought I said I’d pass on that.”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “But you didn’t say yellow.”

“Clever man, Mr. Kingston.”

“
He likes Your Majesty better
,” Molly chimed in.

“Automatic response,” he said.

“Julien,” Aria added.

“Those privacy concerns are going to be legitimate. Anyway, back to our conversation. Let’s start dinner. As I suggested earlier, I’ll take you out there. You can have a look around. You can even bring your wine and your objections. Then you can make a decision about the upcoming evening. If you don’t want to be the subbie to christen it, that’s fine. No pressure.”

He made it sound light, fun. And maybe it could be, for a different woman. But she knew herself and him. Grant would snare her in his spell, and soon she’d be trying things she’d never heard of. And she’d be having a spectacular orgasm—or two.

He stood. Since they’d been working for hours without a break and she was hungry, she nodded. “No promises.”

“Haven’t asked for any.”

“Uh-huh,” she said.

After leaving the workshop and securing the door, they walked down the hall, and she saw the dog was again curled in front of the fire. “Do you have Shadow on a timer?”

“I enjoy the companionship when I want dinner, so yes. Whatever time dusk is, he shows up. And if I leave the house, he waits in the foyer for me.”

Her heart slowed momentarily as it occurred to her how very alone Grant was. Julien was right to seek him out. It wasn’t just for the brainstorming or for the fact Bonds needed a more involved second-in-command. This was about Grant himself.

She knew his isolation was self-induced. She was willing to bet it had something to do with his former fiancée as well as grief. He was clearly a man who loved deeply and completely.

“Pasta?” he offered. “Or we could warm up some tamales, though I’d rather make those for breakfast with eggs.”

“That sounds interesting. So pasta would be great.”

“Baked ziti?”

“Yum.”

“Don’t be overly impressed. Daniella brought the sauce, so it’s homemade, just not in this house.”

They settled on a bottle of Chianti, and while she set the table, he opened the wine.

After the pasta was cooked, he mixed it with the sauce and an obscene amount of cheese.

“Who knew heaven could be found at seven thousand, five hundred feet,” she said.

“I take it you approve,” he replied as he popped the casserole dish into the oven. After they loaded the dishwasher, he poured wine into two plastic mugs.

“Let’s go have that look, shall we?”

Now the plastic mugs made sense.

He grabbed her coat from the hook and held it while she shrugged into it.

“Are you always so chivalrous?”

“When the woman matters,” he replied.

She looked at him. “Am I being seduced?”

“Is it working?”

His tone was serious, the look in his eyes burning. “Yes,” she confessed. “It is.”

“Part of my nefarious master plan.” He put his coat on then unlocked the door and picked up their wine mugs. “Molly, illuminate the path. Unlock the shed.”

“The shed?” Aria asked.

“Only certain people know the truth. Trying not to shock the ’Nillas.”

“’Nillas?”

“I’m sorry. That was scene speak. Short for vanillas. Someone who isn’t into kink.”

He kept a protective arm beneath her elbow as he followed her to the building. “The path might have iced over,” he explained.

She wasn’t sure a man had ever been this courteous toward her.

“Allow me,” he said when he reached past her for the doorknob. “Molly turned up the temperature a while ago so you don’t freeze.”

The nondescript door swung open, and shock almost made her lose her grip on the drink. “It’s…scary as hell.” The floor was concrete or stone of some sort. Shackles were attached to the walls. Some sort of X-shaped structure stood in the middle of the room, and it had a light focused on it. A pair of medieval-looking stocks sat off to the side.

Grant put his fingers in the small of her back to encourage her to enter. If he hadn’t been blocking the way, she might have run. Instead, he sealed them inside.

“Cue reality,” he said.

The room seemed to shimmer. The shackles faded. The stocks vanished. “You…”

He shrugged. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have. But I couldn’t resist.” His smile was irresistible.

She scowled at him. “You know, by this age, most people have outgrown the need to pull pranks.”

“No. They really haven’t. Think about surprise birthday parties. Or keeping it secret when someone’s coming home at the holidays.”

“I always peek at my Christmas presents,” she reminded him. Because his enthusiasm was irresistible, she glanced around.

The X stayed in the middle of the room

Other than that, nothing remained the same. Walls were painted a dove gray. Blinds covered the only windows, which were on the far side of the space. A gorgeous wooden cupboard of sorts was attached to the wall. It was only about six inches thick, but it was a few feet wide. There were a couple of doors.

“Storage,” he told her, “and a bathroom over there with a small dressing area.”

She noticed there was also a sink, along with a round table accompanied by two chairs.

“This is the real dungeon,” he assured her. “That’s called a St. Andrew’s cross.” He indicated the X-shaped structure that was painted black and had thick red padding attached.

“You mentioned that when you were telling me about your first experience.” She could see why it had made an impact. The thing was at least five feet tall, and there were a number of eyebolts screwed into the wood. Even to a newbie like her, the screws didn’t need an explanation. “It’s huge,” she said. “Intimidating.”

“Any more so than last night on my bed?”

“Maybe not,” she admitted. “But, I don’t know. It seems much more serious.” She exhaled. “That didn’t make sense, did it?”

“It did. You’re finding this a bit overwhelming because it’s out of context. Things progressed naturally yesterday. If I’d have brought out the spreader bar earlier, you might have run.” He nodded toward the cross. “Try it out,” he encouraged. “Get familiar with it.”

“What?”

“Step up on the platform. Face it. Spread your arms, your legs. See what it would feel like. Then try it with your back to the X. You can keep your clothes on. You’ll be perfectly safe. Even the restraints are still locked away.”

She took a long drink from her wine, considering. She was alternately scared and thrilled, as he’d undoubtedly known she would be.

After a deep exhalation, she went to the table and put down her plastic mug before taking off her coat.

As she walked across the stone floor, her footsteps echoed. That, she realized, was real. The surface wasn’t uneven enough to be dangerous even in heels, but it added to the ambiance.

Feeling self-conscious, she stepped up onto the platform, facing the cross. The structure was angled slightly back, evidently so that gravity helped keep a submissive in place. She reached out her arms then spread her legs. The padding was thick, making it more comfortable than she’d guessed. In this position, her legs were no farther apart than they’d been when he’d used the spreader bar last night.

“Visualize me dragging my flogger over your shoulders, down your back.”

Since she’d never felt anything like that, she had difficulty with what he suggested. But his voice, low and deep was intoxicating, making her want to picture it. She closed her eyes.

“To me, flogging is a sensuous experience. It’s meant to make your body feel alive. Foreplay.”

Until his pussy spanking, she would have said that was impossible. But he’d said he intended to demolish her paradigms.

“Now turn around to face me,” he said.

She did. Approval was etched on his face, making her glad she was out here with him.

“Now imagine looking at me, your gaze fixed on mine, as I use a light flogger on your breasts and thighs.”

Her heart was doing a frantic thud.

“Get yourself in the position you’d be in.”

He’d stayed on the far side of the room. Mug of wine in hand, he rested his shoulders against the wall, and he put a booted foot on the wall behind him.

Suddenly, she wanted to please him. She extended herself along the X.

“As safe as you are at this moment, Aria? You will always feel this from me.”

For endless seconds, they looked at each other. Earlier she’d thought of him in terms of his ability to weave a spell that drew her in, and that’s exactly what had happened. In a short space of time, his opinion had started to matter.

He’d teased her about living dangerously while she was here. He challenged her as no man ever had—intellectually, physically. And she realized she wanted to experience every single moment. What he was offering, she wanted. No regrets.

He beckoned her forward, and she joined him near the cupboard.

“Go ahead and open it.”

The cupboard had two doors and she opened them to reveal a few floggers hanging from pegs. As she expected from him, it was impeccably organized. What appeared to be canes and crops were attached lengthwise. Sets of clamps, cuffs, gags and blindfolds hung from individual hooks. “This isn’t an illusion, I take it?” she asked to cover her onslaught of nerves.

“All mine. For you.”

“The blindfold and the gags make me nervous,” she admitted.

“That I’d ask you to try, at least once. It can have a liberating effect.”

“Remember? I peek at presents.”

He grinned. “Have you ever closed your eyes during sex?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“I can open them when I choose, not when my Dom says.”

The unintentional word hung in the atmosphere.

“I didn’t mean it that way. You’re not… I mean—”

“Relax. I didn’t take it to mean anything in particular,” he assured her.

But she suspected he had.

“As for the gag, I’m open to negotiation. If you’re wearing it, we’ll work out a signal that you can use to communicate with me. Some subs hold a handkerchief or something that they can drop if things become overwhelming or move too fast. Otherwise, you can use a thumbs-up signal or a thumbs-down signal.”

“It seems that would take a lot of trust.”

“Maybe not as much as you think. Even if you’re gagged, you can still make noise. And I’d be listening and watching you intently.”

She knew, absolutely knew that was true.

“And honestly? For me, that’s more about kink than anything. I like the sight of it. It’s sexy and turns me on. The idea of you being helpless and counting on me to figure out what you need? And giving it to you? Heady stuff for me as a Dom.”

He hadn’t said the words ‘your Dom’. But she heard them, nonetheless. She looked at him. “Your cock is hard.”

“As you’ve noticed, it’s perennial now that you’re around.”

He took down a flogger. She’d never seen one before but thought the purple color was gorgeous. The strands were wide and thick. Pretty, but scary.

“Thirty-three inches long,” he told her. “Thirty-six tails.”

“Is that a lot?”

“It is. Some Doms would start you with something smaller, lighter, fewer strands, maybe a less costly leather. But I like the control I have with this one. I can use it lightly, and if it turns out you have a high pain threshold or simply like more pressure, this can accommodate you. And as we play more and you crave more, we can continue with this one instead of switching.”

“So you’re trying to say this isn’t your average starter flogger.”

“Precisely.”

Though she suspected it might hurt like hell, its suppleness, combined with the rich color, made it seem innocent. She tucked her hands in her back pockets so she didn’t betray the fact her nerves had become mixed up by fascination.

“Turn around,” he said. He slid his mug into the cupboard. “Bend over. Spread your legs. Grab your ankles.”

After she did, he laid the strands over her shoulder, then drew them back. The leather felt smooth on her skin. He continued down her back, and she sighed at the slow, deliberate motion. It wasn’t as if something had ignited in her, it was more like the sensation of being gently awakened.

He gave her a backhanded smack across the buttocks.

“You can’t feel the full impact through denim, but you can get an idea.”

It stung, but only a little. And the feeling faded as quickly as she’d noticed it.

Grant changed positions. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

He landed the flogger on her right butt cheek. “How was that?”

She considered her answer. It hadn’t been anything like she’d expected. The impact felt like a heavy thud rather than a nasty sting. “Not as bad as I feared, but that could be because of the jeans.”

“Now imagine it on your naked body and me stroking between your legs. You’re on the edge of an orgasm, and I just won’t let you tip over. Picture it, Aria.”

Her breaths came in jagged little bursts.

“Think of your whole body feeling as if it’s been touched by a flame. And know I did it to you.”

She tightened her muscles to distract herself from the sudden throbbing in her pussy.

“Also know that I want to take you places you’ve never been. Sexually, sensually. I’m going to make you yearn for me, Aria. For me and only me.”

Chapter Seven

Grant shook out the strands of the flogger and hung it back up while Aria stood and slowly turned toward him.

Her face was flushed, but it was the way her hand shook as she finger-combed her hair that let him know the tiny taste of leather had affected her.