Embracing My Submission (27 page)
Read Embracing My Submission Online
Authors: Jenna Jacob
“Did you have permission to wake me, girl?” he asked in a deep, bellicose tone.
I swallowed in fear and shook my head no.
“No, you didn’t. Did you think I would allow you free reign indefinitely?” He almost smiled as his brows arched, and he looked into my wide, startled eyes.
Again, I shook my head no.
“Good. I’m glad you won’t be disappointed because the freedoms I so generously granted yesterday have come to a crashing halt.”
He looked threatening and dangerous with anger etched on his face, but then a slight curl formed on the corner of his mouth as he forced my lips to his. The big ol’ bear was just roaring. He wasn’t pissed, just asserting that knee-knocking, panty-melting Dominance over me. His generous carte blanche had just been rescinded.
Thank God!
He claimed my mouth with a totally different kiss from the day before. This one was forceful, demanding, possessive. As liquid rushed from my sore folds, my heart pounded in my ears. A part of me longed for one more day to enjoy him without restriction while another part longed to be under his firm thumb. The thought of being immersed in submission made me almost giddy, and I tried to imagine what the day would bring.
“We will play in the dungeon today, pet.” A wicked smile played on his lips as he gave a firm tug on my hair. I whimpered my acknowledgement. “You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to it. It’s almost as much as I looked forward to making love to you.”
Tossing back the sheets with one hand, his other wrapped in my hair, he guided my head down to his turgid erection. The veins on his column throbbed and a clear pearl of come adorned the dark, bulbous crest. I licked my lips and flashed a pleading look into his eyes.
“Hungry, pet?”
“Oh, yes Sir.”
“You may.” He nodded and allowed my head to descend upon his beautiful engorged shaft. I moaned as my lips slid over the broad crown and my taste buds exploded with his now familiar tart, salty taste. Engulfing his velvet-steel shaft, I rolled his tightly drawn sac between my fingers, massaging the rippled skin separating each sphere.
He sucked in a long hiss that filled me with pride. Satisfaction at bringing him such pleasure sent my heart soaring. Voracious and needy, I launched my mouth up and down his shaft and swirled my tongue along the sensitive ridge as he growled low and deep.
“Are you trying to force my scalding seed down your throat, pet?” he hissed between clenched teeth.
“Uh-huh,” I moaned, still devouring his shaft in a gluttonous hunger.
A muffled cry tore from my throat as he fisted my curls. Instantaneously another torrid rush of cream flowed over my swollen folds. My nipples throbbed with the synchronized rhythm of my pulsating clit.
“You enjoy topping from the bottom, don’t you pet?”
With my mouth stuffed full of his cock, I shook my head no.
“Touch yourself. Rub your clit. Rub it hard!” Growling his demand, he yanked my hair.
Whimpering as a wave of raw lust crested through me, I slid my hand to my cleft. Skimming my nimble fingers over the distended bud, I groaned and rose to my knees. His thick, hard cock slid further down my throat as another ragged groan vibrated over his embedded shaft.
Yanking on my hair, he pulled me from his cock with an audible pop. “Enough!” he barked, wrapping a burly arm around my waist as he flipped me onto my back. “Keep fingering yourself, my sweet. I want to watch.”
Without instruction, I spread my legs wide for his viewing pleasure. Arching my hips upward, my fingers busily burnished my clit. A lurid, predatory gleam illuminated his eyes as he inspected my sex. I bated my swollen nub back and forth, taking myself higher and higher.
“Don’t come, girl,” he warned. “You don’t have permission. You don’t have the freedoms you had yesterday.”
Swallowing a groan, I watched him lean in between my splayed thighs. I could feel his warm breath rasping over my skin. The intensity of his gaze drove me to the ragged fringes of release, and when he reached out and caressed my slickened labia, I jerked and cried out in delight.
“Who do you belong to?” he whispered as he swiped a finger along my outer lips.
A strangled moan ripped from my throat. “You!” I gasped.
“You what?”
“You, Sir!”
“You what, girl?”
“You, Mika.”
“Let’s try this again, my sweet.” Taunting me with his words, he teased me with his fingers, sliding two deep inside my dripping tunnel. “What are you?”
“Ahh, I am a submissive,” I panted, squeezing my walls tight around his imbedded finger.
“What are you?” he asked, arching his brows high and driving another finger into my quivering chasm. He stretched my sore channel, strumming his digits, spiraling me higher by the second.
“I am your submissive, Sir,” I mewled as I milked his fingers.
“No.” Shaking his head, he dragged his hand from my quaking channel.
“No? Yes, I am,” I cried in confusion as I thrust my hips toward his hand.
He leaned over my needy body and whispered in my ear. “You’re my slave, precious.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, I froze in terror. My fingers stilled against my throbbing pearl as my heart hammered in my chest. The term “slave” made my brain revolt in absolute panic.
“No. No. No,” I gasped in panic-laced whispers and shook my head. Mika’s brows furrowed as he rocked back on his knees. Confusion mixed with concern reflected in his eyes.
“Stop.” He gently pulled my hand from my mound and threaded his fingers in mine. “Sit up, pet.”
Trembling in fear, I scooted up and sat in the middle of the bed. “Everything stops right now. We need to talk.” His words were calm and soothing, but I could still see the worry in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, drawing up my knees and lowering my head.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’ve done nothing wrong, my love.” His broad hand soothed my back as he edged closer. “We need to talk about this. I’ve obviously pushed a button you’re uncomfortable with. We need to work this out.”
He lifted my chin with his fingers, forcing me to look at him.
“What does the term ‘slave’ mean to you?” he asked.
I wanted to look away from his compassion, hide from the understanding and patience resonating in his voice. I wanted to run away from my damn stupid insecurities.
“It’s just a term.” I sighed, angry with myself for allowing a word to wrap me in a brutal stranglehold of fear.
“But?” he pressed patiently.
“But to me, slave means I lose everything. I lose myself. I don’t have a say in anything that happens to me anymore. I can’t be in control of me if I need to. And it terrifies the living crap out of me. I gave up everything once before, and I vowed never to do that again.” I closed my eyes to hide my shame.
“When you first began to learn about the lifestyle, yes, I know.” Shock that he knew about my past must have reflected in my eyes as they flew open wide. “Drake and I have no secrets, love. I know about Nelson.”
I wanted to find a hole that would swallow me up. I jerked my chin from his fingers at the sound of Nelson’s name. I wanted a safe place to hide from my humiliation. Mika knew what a fool I’d been, knew how stupid I was in giving all my power to a wannabe Dominant. It had been years ago, but the damage Nelson inflicted on my psyche felt like it was only yesterday.
“Drake’s disclosure was not meant as a breach of confidence toward you. I needed, no I demanded, to know everything about you. So I know your first Master, Nelson, was a miserable excuse for a Dominant. He was uneducated and inept. My love, he wasn’t ever a real Dominant. That is not your fault. I know he hurt you physically and emotionally. The stupid bastard nearly turned you away from the lifestyle entirely. Baby, I can’t take your negative experience away. As much as I’d like to, sweetheart, I can’t.”
“I know that. It was a long time ago, and I’ve healed from it,” I lied.
“No, I don’t think you have. I think you still carry a negative opinion of Master/slave relationships.”
“I do not. There are lots of Master/slave couples at the club who I admire and love,” I huffed, refuting his allegation.
“Do you trust me yet?”
“Yes. I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t, you know.”
Even though his eyes were warm and loving, his edgy comment made my blood turn cold. Fear permeated my core as a shudder of panic raced through my body. Even knowing it was a knee-jerk reaction, I still wanted to grab my clothes and race from the room. Instead, I defiantly raised my chin and stared into his eyes.
“Why not?” I brazenly asked.
“Because you don’t know me yet. You don’t know personal things about me. You know them peripherally, but not first hand. I’m not a Dominant, Julianna.”
I blinked in confusion. He was lying to me, lying straight to my face. “Bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit, love. I’m a Master. I don’t require a submissive. I require a slave.”
Slave
.
My heart hammered in my chest as my throat constricted. Even the walls of the room seemed to close in on me.
“And I can see by the fear in your eyes that term terrifies you.”
I didn’t answer him, well aware he knew my sentiment and the reason for it. I was struggling with swarming feelings of betrayal. I’d been betrayed by Drake for divulging my secrets, even to Mika. Sammie knew about my past because I had been the one to tell her. But Drake telling Mika? It was a bitter pill to swallow. Drake had betrayed my vulnerabilities, ones I’d never wanted exposed to Mika.
“We’re not going to play in the dungeon today.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but Mika raised his brows and held up his hand, shutting off my words before they could leave my lips.
“Not because I’m unhappy with you, but because the newness of our relationship isn’t solidified yet. I’m pushing you. I don’t want to do that, well, not in this way. I want to train you, guide you, show you that being a slave doesn’t include stripping your identity.”
I felt as if I’d failed him. I wanted to believe him, believe that he could get me past my fears. But why would he? There was no doubt in my mind that he was already second guessing why he’d chosen to be in a relationship with me in the first place, especially now. The poor man had a certifiable basket case on his hands. A woman so fucked up that she’d allowed a complete douchebag to manipulate her to the point that she’d lost her identity. She couldn’t stand up for herself and had let the prick abuse her over and over again.
Of course, he was pushing, that’s what Dominants do. They push the limits of their submissive. I wasn’t a slave! Dammit. I was a submissive. I’d never be a slave. That alone would be a deal breaker for him, I was sure. Why would he invest his time and energy in me if I could never be what he needed? This was never going to work. It couldn’t, no matter how he tried to candy coat it.
“Make no mistake, I’m here for the duration, girl, however long it takes for you to be comfortable with everything I ask of you.”
Shit!
Why did he have to read me like an open book? Was I that transparent?
“You may not believe me, but I’m proud of you, proud of how far you’ve grown since your first days at the club. I want you to listen to me, really listen.”
Rising from the bed, he plucked a cotton robe from the closet and held it open for me. Standing, I slid my arms through the sleeves as he wrapped his arms around me.
“Love has no pride. Love is open, honest, and given freely without bonds or secrets or inhibitions. I love you. You have all of me. The good, the bad, and the sometimes ugly parts of me. I’m not a God. I’m human. I guarantee I will make mistakes, but never intentionally. Neither of us are prefect. When I claim you, I claim all of you, not just the parts of you that you want to dole out. I won’t allow there to be a wall between us in any sense of the meaning.”
Without uttering a word, I listened, absorbing the depth of his words.
“This is all moving much too quickly for you. I’m painfully aware of that. I’m asking for something that terrifies you, something you’ll want to fight me for. I’m asking you to be vulnerable. Not just sexually. You’ve already opened yourself up to me without reservation. It’s been a stunning, mind-altering gift that you give. What I’m asking for now is far more precious to you than your sexual delights. I’m asking you to give me your defenseless and fragile heart.”
I lowered my head and rubbed my fingers over my forehead. I thought about my dream and the brick wall. In a way, he was asking me to knock the damn thing down again, but with a different meaning. He wanted me to decimate the walls around my heart. The cast iron walls I’d erected with far more fortification. The ones I swore no man would ever breech again. Tipping my head back with his fingers, he looked into my eyes.
“I want you to do something for me. It’s not painful, I promise. It may be a bit awkward, but I’ll be here to help you through it.”
He smiled and turned me to face him, tying the sash in a knot at my waist. “For the next two weeks, I want you to refer to me as Master. Can you do that for me, love?”
“I think so,” I whispered, feeling small and vulnerable.
“Good. Let’s go make some breakfast.”
“Now?” I asked, bewildered that we weren’t going to finish what we’d started.
“Now, who?”
“Now, Master?” I whispered tentatively.
“Yes, now, girl. We’ll have time to resume where we left off later.” A smirk curled on his lips. “Come. I’ll cook for you.”
“You already make me cook like a Master chef!” I grinned.
He placed a firm kiss on my lips then pulled on a pair of well-worn jeans. As we made our way to the opulent kitchen, I wondered how I was going to manage to eat. Mika sans a shirt was a decadent, delicious sight to behold. Breakfast was sure to challenge my libido.