In the Den (20 page)

Such a peaceful, wonderful place.

Saying goodbye in a couple of days was going to break her heart. Not only did she love the Den, but she enjoyed his company every evening as they sat on the couch, music in the background, a fireplace glowing. Sharing the day’s events with another person was something she’d never experienced before. Even when he pried more information out of her than she liked, it was nice talking to someone who was supportive and non-judgmental.

The idea of leaving here—and him—ached like a physical pain.

Catrina breathed in and reminded herself to keep her emotional distance. She’d known from the start this was a temporary arrangement, orchestrated to teach her some things about submission.

She shoved away the nagging whisper that it might already be too late.

He hung up and strode to her. He put his cup on the desk and plucked hers from her hand to put it next to his.

“Time to say good morning to my lovely sub.” He linked his arms around her and pulled her up until she was barely inches from him.

She tipped back her head to look at him. “I’m not sure what you’re thinking,” she said. “But I’m not sure I like it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you are looking down your nose and you appear very serious. So your head is either still thinking about business or you’re considering doing something wicked to me.”

“Wicked,” he said. “You’re onto me.”

“Ah.”

“Hold out your tongue.”

She blinked.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” The teasing was gone from his voice, replaced by a stern, wouldn’t-tolerate-disagreement tone.

“I’m not sure I want to.”

“No?” He pulled her a little closer. His cock pressed against her.

Her resolve wavered. “It will hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

The question piqued her interest, as she was sure he’d intended.

If she’d had any doubts before about Damien Lowell’s ability to master her, it was gone now. He knew exactly how to get her to do what he wanted.

Butterflies doing a backstroke in her bloodstream, she stuck out her tongue. Before he could touch her, she chickened out.

“Catrina,” he snapped.

“Sorry.” She obeyed his command but closed her eyes.

He gently held the tip of her tongue.

It was everything she could do not to dance away.

When he increased the pressure, she whimpered, not from pain but from the raw pulse of desire.

Damien took one of her hands and placed it on the front of his trousers. She squeezed his cock as she surrendered and leaned into him.

Time was swallowed by sensation.

She barely registered the way he decreased the pressure until he sucked her tongue into his mouth. Then it became a kiss that left her raw, ragged and breathless.

When he finally ended it, setting her away from him, she couldn’t hold up her head.

“Thanks for the coffee, Milady. Now get to work.”

She shook her head and looked at him. “Seriously? That’s it?”

“It’s a work day. What else did you expect?”

“You to finish what you start,” she said. She continued to stroke him, certain he was joking. “It will only take a minute for both of us to be satisfied.”

He clamped a hand around her wrist, stilling her movements. “You’ll have to wait until tonight.”

“You’re the most frustrating man I’ve ever met.”

“It’s my decision.”

She tried one more angle. “I’d focus better if I had an orgasm.”

“This way you’ll also be thinking about tonight. I’d like you to meet me downstairs after dinner.”

“Oh?”

“That was foreplay, Milady, not a tease.”

He moved her hand to her side before letting it go. “Yes…Damien.” It would have been easy to call him Sir. In fact, not using the title was becoming more difficult. She was thinking of him in those terms, but actually saying it would mean she’d accepted his domination.

The night she’d dressed in the French maid’s get-up, she’d been free to use the word without either of them taking it too seriously. It had felt liberating.

“Don’t even think of using a vibrator,” he said as he let her go.

“But…”

“Please honor my request.”

The morning dragged. “I’m not sure I like your idea of foreplay,” she said over lunch.

“That’s good to know.”

He gave her a quick kiss before excusing himself to return to work. She sank against her chairback and blew out a breath, ruffling her hair.

Gregorio knocked then entered without waiting for an invitation. He brushed snow from his sleeves before hanging up his black leather jacket.

What was it with the men and leather around here?

“Where’s the boss?”

“Back at work.”

“Everything okay?” He helped himself to a cup of coffee. “Yuck,” he said.

“Been there a while.”

“What, since the turn of the century?” He put it in the microwave and pulled out a carton of cream. “So, dish, Milady. What’s up? It’s not like you to sulk.”

She thought about denying it, but figured that would do no good. “Damien can be confounding.”

“Submission challenges?”

“I think I’ll stick with being a Domme.”

“Really?” The microwave dinged and he took out the cup. He added a dollop of cream, tasted it again, then added another drop.

“Is that a coffee or a latte at this point?”

“Neither. Putting it in the java family is an insult.”

“Want me to brew you another pot?”

“Thought you were done being a sub?”

“Damien is clear about common courtesy and D/s.”

He dragged back a chair and sat across from her. “You’re a quick study. So. I imagine this has been a challenge for you. Confusing?”

“Yeah. I knew I wasn’t a sub. And a whole lot of the time has been instructive.”

“But?”

“I like Damien, okay?” She grabbed Gregorio’s cup and took a drink, more because she wanted something to do with her hands than anything else.

“And that’s a problem because…”

“I’m a Domme. And sometimes he pisses me off enough to want to bend him over and blister his ass.”

“You’re horny.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Deny it.” He took back his coffee.

“So?”

“It’s a hell of a journey,” he said. “I don’t blame you for finding it confusing.”

“The submission part, I get. Or at least I think I do. He was right that I’ll be a better Domme when this is over.”

“And the rest?”

“Sitting with him on the couch.” She paused. “At night. The talking. Maybe a movie. It’s…intimate. Not sex, but sharing things, even seemingly insignificant details. I’ve never had anything like it. I’m going to miss it, even though I never knew I wanted it.”

“Who says you have to give it up?”

“Do you see Damien keeping me around when this is done? If I want to meet him as an equal?”

“You’re still seeing a submissive as someone less important or inferior to a Dom?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t you?”

She brushed her hair back from her face.

“Discuss this with Damien. I’d give you my opinion, but you need to hear it from him.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “If that intimacy thing you’re talking about is real, then you’ll trust him enough to go to him. Tell him what’s on your mind. Listen to what he has to say. He could want the same things as you. You could work out a compromise.”

“How do two dominants have a relationship?”

“Unless they discuss that, they don’t.” He took back his cup and swallowed a drink from it. “Tastes like shit.”

“Dump it out.”

“It’s caffeine, and I had a long night.”

“Doing what?”

“None of your business.”

“I should be with you. I could flog you every night.”

“Not on my watch,” Damien said.

She froze at the chill in his voice.

Gregorio shrugged. “Security cameras, Milady.”

“It was a joke,” she said, turning to look at Damien, her heart thundering at double time. She stood, met his gaze, silently implored him to understand. “Since Gregorio is a switch… I’m babbling.”

“Go on.”

“I was telling him about my frustrations over the last few days.” She dropped her gaze. “Sorry if I was out of line.”

“You’re an adult, Milady. You can discuss anything you want with anyone you wish. I’d like it if you would come to me.”

“After lunch, I tried.”

“So you’re complaining to Gregorio you’re sexually frustrated because I wouldn’t get you off upstairs?”

“God.
No.” Exasperated, she took a step toward him. “It’s about me. My confusion.”

“Fears?”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad you talked to Gregorio. And I want you to know that I’m available to listen, too. I may be a caveman, but if you whack me up the side of the head, you can get my attention.” He took the final step that would bring them within inches of each other then he took hold of her upper arms with the reassuring gentleness that could only come from such strength. “I have broad shoulders, Milady. To help carry whatever troubles you have.”

“That’s what I told her.”

“You…” He addressed Gregorio over his shoulder. “I thought we had a one o’clock meeting?”

“I’m here, Boss.”

Damien jerked his head toward the back stairs.

“Oh. Right. I’ll be waiting in your office.” He picked up his coffee cup then headed up.

“To be fair,” she said when they were alone, “Gregorio did tell me to talk to you.”

“I believe him. And you. As long as you’re here as my sub you scene with no man but me. If that’s not acceptable, we can discuss it. But you’re not free to scene with others without first seeking permission.”

“Were you listening, Damien? It was a joke.” Her voice was higher pitched than normal, and she closed her eyes to get hold of her fraying temper. When she did, she hit them both with the raw truth. “I don’t want to be with anyone but you.”

“Good.” He loosened his grip and he made tiny circles with his fingers. “I appreciate you saying so.” He dragged her onto her toes. “We have a lot to talk about tonight.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “We do.”

He eased her toward him and his thick cock pressed against her.

“What about the security cameras?” she reminded him.

“There’s no volume unless I turn it up.”

“But we are providing a peep show.”

“Come here.”

He led her into the powder room.

“A clandestine meeting, Damien?”

He spun her around so fast her breath whooshed out. She desperately pushed her hands flat against the wall as he lifted her skirt and blasted her with five hot slaps on her rear. Then he yanked aside her thong and masturbated her until she screamed out an orgasm and collapsed in a sobbing heap against the wall.

It may have taken him ten seconds to give her the relief she’d all-but begged for.

His motions now tender, he turned her back to him and held her tight against his chest. In his arms, she shook. Damien didn’t let her go until she found the wherewithal to push him away.

“I needed that,” she admitted.

“I know.” He took a washcloth from a drawer and daubed her face. “Better, Milady?”

“Much.” She gave him a smile. “Thank you.” But she was lying. And she wondered if he knew it.

Conflicted, she followed him from the room.

The restless energy that had been churning all day worsened during the afternoon. The scene with Damien should have soothed her, but it didn’t. In fact, it contributed to her cauldron of angst. She craved his touch, didn’t want this to end, couldn’t figure out a way for it to last. The more often they scened, the deeper she cared for him. The more they shared, the more she ached to share.

Trying to work was impossible, and being separated from him and Gregorio by only a glass partition was torture.

Unable to concentrate, restless, she went into the suite and grabbed her coat from the closet. “I’m going for a walk,” she told Damien.

“Would you like me to go with you?”

“No problem,” Gregorio said, pushing back his chair. “We can finish up at a more convenient time.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather be alone.”

She walked for less than an hour. Her toes were numb in her boots, her fingers were frozen even though she’d kept them in her pockets and she was grateful her hair covered her ears. As it was, the cold bit at her lobes.

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.”