Switch Master: 6 (Ink and Kink) (15 page)

Samantha sighed softly. “You’re an incredible man. I have a
complicated past. You deserve uncomplicated. If you ever want out say so, I
won’t freak out or anything.”

“I love you, Samantha. Why would I want out?”

“You’re in love with me?” she whispered.

“Yes, I fell for you the day you kicked my brother’s ass.
I’ve tried to be patient and give you time to see that our age difference
didn’t matter to me, that nothing mattered to me other than convincing you that
we’re meant to be together.”

Taran withdrew only long enough to turn her around. “If it’s
too soon to say it that’s too bad, I won’t take it back, Samantha.”

“Don’t take it back. Please don’t ever take it back.” To her
credit, she didn’t look away. “I love you, Taran Maddox. As long as you love
me, I’m staying, baggage and all.”

Taran lowered his head and kissed her. He didn’t give a damn
about baggage. He had Samantha in his arms. That’s pretty much all he needed.

“Time to continue your tour of our dungeon, doll,” he said,
drawing back some.

“The ropes can stay. I’m hoping you’ll use them to teach me
how to tie you up and have my wicked way with your ass.”

“Someone’s obsessed with my ass.”

“Having a fabulous, bitable ass must be a Maddox trait,” she
teased, grinning.

“You ever try to bite Ethan’s or Phalen’s asses, you won’t
sit on yours for a week.”

“Ethan’s, never,” she teased, wrinkling her nose. “Phalen’s,
maybe…he has promised to teach me jujitsu.”

“Samantha,” he warned, hearing himself growl at the thought
of Phalen teaching her anything.

“No need to get jealous. You’re my Master. How about kung
fu, can I learn that?”

“Alex can teach you or I will when I’ve mastered it. With
Alex, at least I know he won’t be tempted to touch you beyond instruction.”

“If I remember correctly, he used to date women.”

“Are you trying to get in trouble?”

“Are you threatened by how sexy Alex Grant is? Have to
admit, so is Doc. Can you imagine the two of them fucking?”

Did she know what she was doing? Or how far she’d come in
accepting the submissive part of her nature? Taran was pretty sure Samantha
knew and was enjoying her chance to test his mettle.

“Outside seeing them together at munches or BDSM weekends at
Druid Creek Castle, no, not really,” he answered.

“Come on, if it’s okay for you to imagine two women getting
each other off, why isn’t it for me to imagine two men?”

“Stop teasing or else…”

“Or else what, you’ll fuck me?” Purposefully moving in
closer to rub against his well-satisfied cock, she knew damn well he needed
recovery time. Dropping his hand to her ass, he swatted her.

“Behave or I’ll take to that bondage chair and turn you over
my knee.” The promise of a spanking had her jolting her hips, her eyes
widening.

“Why do I want you to do that?” she demanded, shaking her
head.

“Because in everything else in your life you are in
control,” he answered. “With me, you want to lose control.”

“That’s true. I’m simply not sure I understand why.”

“When you’re initiated into Alex and Doc’s club, you’re
going to be surprised by how many people you know who are sexually submissive
or switches. Like you, they have occupations that require discipline, focus and
extreme responsibility. Their Masters or Mistresses allow them to leave
everything else outside the club.”

“Okay, that makes more sense,” she commented. “There’s more,
right?”

“Yes. Being Dominant requires an extraordinary amount of
discipline and vigilance. At all times during a scene, a Dom needs to remain in
constant contact with his sub and be alert to potential crashes. If he doesn’t,
his partner could get seriously hurt.”

“Can’t the submissive use a safe word?”

“Always, however, there are times when the sub may accept
something done to them because he or she wants to please the Dominant partner.
If a sub is flying, objection may not occur at all.”

“I’d imagine it would be physically draining for the Dom.”

“Yes, it can be. Sometimes they need to let the sub be the
top. Understand?”

“I think so. I appreciate your taking the time to explain
things.”

“You’re still new to BDSM, Samantha. It’ll take time to
learn all the nuances. For example, when you switch, it might interest you to
become a rope top.”

“A rope top, what does that mean?”

“Rope tops have a tendency for submission but top their
dominant partner when he or she is bound. You would like to see me bound, yes?”

“Yes, yes, I would. How did you know?”

“Your eyes trained on the Shibari ropes on the wall. The
idea of tying me up aroused you. That’s how I knew.”

“Have you ever switched for your past partners?” Her gaze
was still awed. Her curiosity and her understanding of the give and take
between a Dom and sub was taking hold.

“No, I’m a control freak, but there’s a very real part of me
that wants to submit to you.”

“And that requires training first,” she said.

“Absolutely,” he stated. “Are you up to the task of learning
how to get your Master to switch, Samantha?”

“I’d like to very much, especially if I can have my wicked
way with your ass.”

Taran stroked her tangled hair back behind her ear. She was
still flushed from recent sex. They both smelled like cum, sweat and faintly of
pepperoni pizza.

It didn’t really matter. In a couple minutes, he’d take her
downstairs where they could clean up, brush their teeth and climb into bed.
He’d like to make love to her again when he was able, but it’d be awhile.

“You’ve been my woman from the moment you knocked Phalen on
his ass,” he declared, reaching up to play with her hair. “Did you know that?”

“I knew, I simply wasn’t ready to accept it until recently.
Taran, I realize you said I could tour the dungeon, but I don’t need to. I only
ask that you don’t push using chains on me.”

“I’ll put them in a trunk across the room and show you where
the key is. Anything else you’d like to negotiate now?”

“Never make me beg, put a bridle on me, lick your boots or
make me feel as insignificant as a piece of furniture,” she answered.

Placing his right hand over his parents’ names inked on his
chest, he gave her his word. “Promise, I’ll never do anything to break your
faith in me, Samantha.”

She smiled softly, looking extremely pretty. “Take me
downstairs?”

“Can I carry you?”

“You probably shouldn’t,” she replied. “If your back’s sore
from carrying me around all night, what fun can we have when you wake me up?”

“You really have to stop doing that,” he warned, catching
her up in his arms and heading for the stairs on the side of the stage.

“Doing what?”

“Thinking you’re anything less than perfect for me,” he
said. “A lesson must be taught.”

“Tonight, you mean?”

“You’ll see,” was all he’d said, carrying her out of the
dungeon.

He didn’t put her down until they were in the bathroom. Even
then, he held her hand while he filled the bathtub with warm water. He didn’t
have bubble bath or anything feminine so squirted a generous glob of shampoo
into the tub.

“Toothbrush, please?” she asked, pouting prettily even
though he wanted to get her into the bathwater.

“Okay,” he agreed. “Two minutes or I’m putting you in that
tub.”

Taran rummaged through the closet to find a new toothbrush.
Once he found one, he grabbed it and took it to her. As he approached, he
noticed she was looking around and he hoped she liked the sand-colored walls
and matching rugs strewn about the white tiled floor.

Once Ethan moved to the master bedroom, he’d turned his
brother’s former bedroom into a living room with a sofa, entertainment system,
fireplace and two big lounge chairs. There was also a kitchenette and a small
table and place settings and silverware for two.

“Sam, if there’s anything you want to change about our half
of the house, let me know.”

“I love it here. It’s very you. Neat, organized, masculine
and comfortable. And you’ve got bamboo bed sheets!”

“Towels too,” he replied, taking the toothbrush to her.

She took it as if he’d given her a diamond ring. He watched
her for a fraction of a second while she squeezed toothpaste from the tube on
the sink onto the bristles and began brushing her teeth.

Copying her, he got his own toothbrush. Grinning while they
brushed their teeth side by side, he had to admit it was nice.

“Bath time, doll,” he said when they spit and rinsed.

Samantha washed away any toothpaste splatter in the sink
then set her new toothbrush next to his in the holder. When she finished, she
turned toward the bathtub.

“That water looks incredibly inviting. I hope you’re
planning to join me?”

The tub was large enough to handle a small crowd. He’d seen
it at a going-out-of-business sale at a local store and hadn’t been able to
resist.

“I plan to take care of you for the rest of the night. If
you let me, the rest of our lives,” he assured. Taking her hand, he led her to
the tub, assisting her into the warm, soapy water then following and taking a
seat, stretching his legs out.

Samantha lowered herself down, resting with her back against
his chest, giving him ample room to work suds into her skin and play with her
big tits. He’d not known she had such curves. Her waist was trim and legs were
long, but her hips were softly feminine, her breasts were so big, he couldn’t
fit his hands over them.

He for damn sure intended to explore every curve and
definition of her soft, feminine body. If it took the next forty years or so,
he’d leave his bite marks too.

Taran lost track of how long they reclined in the tub. The
water cooled, suds faded. They hadn’t bothered with the whirlpool. It’d been
nice to relax together and do nothing more strenuous than breathe and touch
each other.

When the water cooled to the point that it was no longer
relaxing, he assisted her out of the tub. Flipping the drain switch, he grabbed
a towel and dried her off, finally leading her back into their bedroom and
helping her into bed.

“Tired, doll?” he asked, catching her staring off into
space.

“A little,” she admitted. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh, should I be worried about my ass?”

“No,” she said softly. “Are you disappointed I can’t have a
baby?”

His heart clenching, Taran pulled her in close to him,
pressing his forehead against hers. “Not at all, Samantha, why would you think
that?”

“You’re so happy about being an uncle. You were amazing with
Luke tonight and even though you’re a civil litigator, it’s family law that
lights you up inside. Instinct tells me you’d be a great father.”

“We may not be able to have children of our own, but we can
become foster parents or adopt. And we have Luke in our lives now.”

“What are you saying?” she asked, drawing back and enabling
him to see hope in her eyes.

“I’d like to apply to Big Brothers Big Sisters and hopefully
become Luke’s mentor. Phalen did a great job with me and Ethan when we were
teenagers, not by becoming a surrogate parent, but more so a brother to
emulate. If I can be half as good at mentoring as he was, Luke will be fine.”

“I wish I’d have known your mom and dad, Taran. Seems to me
that they raised the three of you right,” Samantha admitted.

“I wish you could’ve too, doll. They’d like you.”

“Do you ever get angry that they’re gone?”

“Many times, and I still cry on the anniversary of their
deaths. Eventually I came to understand that they’re not gone. They live on
through us, me, Ethan and Phalen.”

“Can I tell you something?” she asked, waiting for him to
nod. “I’ve never known who my father was. For reasons I’ve never quite
understood, my mother never wanted to talk about him. Anytime I’d ask, she’d
change the subject as if it scared her more than anything.”

“Where’s your mom now?”

“She moved to Vermont after retiring.”

“Do you see her much?”

“As often as I can. She was deeply hurt when I ran away from
home because I’d gotten pregnant. To this day, it’s one of my greatest regrets.
It’s taken awhile to repair the damage.”

“Why did you run away?” Taran didn’t want to pressure her,
but it was nice to have a conversation about the things that mattered to them.

“Mark gave me money to hide in New York City in order to
keep his fiancée from finding out about the baby. If I didn’t leave, he
threatened to have my mom fired.”

Taran’s gut wrenched as she revealed more about why she’d
run away. He was going to kill Mark and his bastard of an uncle.

“Aw, doll, you must’ve felt so scared and betrayed. How old
were you?”

“A couple months shy of seventeen.”

“He was a coward, Samantha.”

“He lied about everything concerning our relationship and I
stupidly bought it hook, line and sinker.”

“Did you love him at the time?”

“I thought I did, but things ended when I left the Vineyard
for my senior year of high school. When I figured out why I’d missed my period,
I contacted him only for help. He flipped out, threatening my mom’s standing
with his parents, my reputation, anything he could think of if I didn’t leave
town.”

“He’d better pray I never get my hands on him.”

“To protect my mom, I went to New York with a pocketful of
cash to get me through, or so I’d thought. It didn’t take long before his money
ran out and I’d bunked down at a shelter until his uncle miraculously took me
in off the street.”

“Sonofabitch,” Taran exclaimed.

“James came to me, said Mark had sent him. I didn’t
immediately trust him but eventually he offered me a job and a place to live.
Once I took the bait, I ended up trapped in his penthouse, working day and
night to keep the place spotless. When I wasn’t cleaning, he taught me how to
use my computer skills to hack into his clients’ bank accounts or dig for
information.”