Truth or Dare; The Dominator II (26 page)

BOOK: Truth or Dare; The Dominator II
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“I need, I need…” I was in hysterics, “Hold me down. Take me.” I was whimpering, hyperventilating, clawing at his pants but I had absolutely no sense of coordination.

He said, “Shh,” and then he caught my wrists and he held them over my head and pinned them with one hand. His other hand went down the front of the pajama pants and he started to rub my clit.

“Tell me, order me, please.”

“Open up, baby. Stay still.” His voice was commanding, perfect, just what I needed.

My legs spread wide. My breathing slowed down and I closed my eyes. “Tighter, please. Please?” I breathed desperately and his hand tightened on my wrists.

“Don’t move,” he said in a low husky voice.

I exhaled long and slow and then I started feeling warm again. I started feeling normal again. The sensation between my legs started to build. I started to moan. It took a while and he didn’t stop, didn’t give up, and then I was there.

“Thank you, Master.” I whimpered as I started coming. I came hard, so hard I let out a scream and the sensations went on and on and on even after he let go of my wrists and his hand left my pants.

I shuddered with aftershocks for a minute and then as I started to feel steady again I realized he was sitting on the edge of the bed watching me. I couldn’t read his expression.

I curled into a small ball against him and put my head on his lap and looked up to his gorgeous face.

“I’m sorry.”

His hand caressed my hair and he swallowed hard. He looked shaken.

There was a long moment of looking into one another’s eyes and I swear it was like he could see deep inside. I felt naked. Not naked of clothing but stripped completely bare.  He laid beside me and pulled me to him and I nuzzled in and inhaled his scent, tried to memorize how he smelled, how he felt.

“Hungry?” he finally asked in a soft voice.

I nodded. He got up and then reached for the silver bag and put it in a drawer of the bedside table and then he left the room. I sat up and took a few breaths with my eyes closed and a minute later he was back with a bottle of Coke and two glasses.  He put them on his bedside table. Then he left and returned a minute later with two plates of food and sets of chopsticks. He passed me a plate and then un-paused the TV and got in bed and leaned back against the pillows and dropped a handful of soy, mustard, and plum sauce packets between us. He’d gotten all I’d requested.

He started to eat so I did, too. I was careful to not look at him but I felt a tense vibe coming from him. It was angry. Really angry.

“Don’t like the eggrolls?” he asked softly, not angrily.

I was scooping the insides out.

“Uh, I like the shells. I don’t like what they put in them.” I started scooping my fried rice into my emptied shell.

He looked at me like I was an alien but the mood lightened. That was the only conversation during dinner.

We watched the baseball game and we didn’t talk. When I was finished my dinner I grabbed his plate, which was on the bed between us, and took both plates to the kitchen, rinsed them, and then put them in the dishwasher and put the containers of Chinese food that were sitting on the counter into the fridge. When I came back in he was laying down watching the game, his hands behind his head. His eyes moved to me briefly and he had his jaw clenched. I looked to the floor as I made my way the rest of the way to the bed. After climbing on I put my head on his pelvis.  He started to play with my hair. I looked up at him. He had a sad look on his face. His eyes met mine and he gave my neck a little squeeze and then his hand rested on my back. His eyes went back to the screen. I turned over to see the TV, keeping my head on him.

When the game was over I got up and went into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth and when I returned he was sitting up, the TV off. He was obviously waiting for me. I’d thought I’d gotten off easy. Guess not.

I climbed into bed beside him and laid on the pillow, looking at him.

“Talk to me,” he said. His expression was such that I knew this wasn’t optional.

I rose to sitting and crossed my legs and put my hands in my lap. I took a big breath, “The gift bag triggered an anxiety attack. I’m sorry. It looked just like a bag that had the engagement ring in it when I was proposed to and I told you that my declining the proposal had a pretty big impact on my life and I… I just lost it.” In truth I was surprised I’d even been able to tell him about the proposal earlier that day. When it came out without a panic attack I thought maybe I’d stepped over some hurdle but clearly at the sight of that gift bag I was wrong. Way wrong.

He ran his fingers through his hair, “You have anxiety attacks before Kruna?”

I shook my head, “No.”

He nodded slowly, eyes looking somewhat far away, then he said, “I’m gonna arrange for counseling. I’ll make calls tomorrow.”

I nodded and looked down at my hands in my lap, “Yes, Dare.”

“Don’t,” he snapped.

I looked up at him. He looked furious. Not just pissed off, actually furious.

I was taken aback, “Sorry?”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m your slaver. It’s hot when you do that when we’re having sex but otherwise, when serious shit is being discussed, you don’t fucking do it. You got me?”

I nodded.

“I’m gonna go to the den and do some work.” He got up.

“Dare,” I said softly, my voice showing my pain.

He looked down at me.

“Thank you for saving me.”

The hardness in his eyes evaporated. He got back in the bed and pulled me tight against him and I started to cry into his chest. He stroked my back and kissed my head and then finally said, his voice sounding a little choked, “You’re welcome, Angel. You’re very very welcome.”

No doubts in my rattled brain, I was in love with this man. There was not a single doubt about it. My Master, my Dario. My C, my D. My all-the-way-to Z. My chest was filled with so much hope it was almost like a living and breathing thing inside me.

After a few minutes I looked to his face and he kissed my forehead.

“Sorry; you can go get work done. I’ll go to sleep now.”

He tucked my hair behind my ear and kissed me again, “It’s gonna be okay, baby. I promise you it is.”

I nodded, “I know.” And I did know. He was gonna make it okay.

“I’ll stay ‘till you fall asleep.”

God he was sweet.

** ** **

I jolted and gasped as I felt him leave.

“I’m just next door if you need me. I won’t be long,” he whispered and kissed me softly on the lips and then he was gone.

I fell back to sleep wondering about the contents of his silver gift bag.

 

Dare

I poured a drink. Then I poured another. And then a-fucking-nother.  I went out to the terrace and sat and lit a smoke and stared out at the night, my blood boiling, a cold pit in my stomach, and I plotted. I fucking plotted because they needed to be stopped.

I didn’t know if I could give her time to tell me her story in her own time or if I’d have to a) get Zack to tell me what he’d found and hope that he’d found out enough or b) make her tell me whether she was ready or not.

Maybe I needed to talk to this counselor, too, to find out how to handle her properly.

I bought her a necklace tonight at a jewelry store down the road and a cell phone from the electronics store a few doors away from the restaurant where I’d picked up our take-out. The phone so we could text during the day and so she’d get on her way to some semblance of normalcy and the necklace so I could get the reminder of where she came from off her neck. I figured maybe a new necklace could give her the same comfort because it was from me but it could be the start of a fresh start for her.

But after her attack tonight I didn’t know if it was the perfect time to get that fucking thing off her neck or the worst idea in the world.

And my mind was also on the fact that the report card they gave me on that last tablet, the fucked up data contained on that screen, was actually useful because it helped me see what she needed from me in order to settle her down today.

Yeah, she’d begged me to do that but if I hadn’t read that report I wouldn’t have picked up so easily on what she needed and I definitely wouldn’t have done it. I would’ve tried to find another way to calm her down. And it had worked. Damn it all to hell, too, because that report’s contents meant that it didn’t just work because I was there to hold her down and make her come. It probably would’ve worked if anyone else in the world had done the same.

** ** **

She was quiet, timid with me in the morning when we got up.  Maybe she was responding to my mood, I don’t know. I’d slept terrible and was in a foul mood. When I came out of the bedroom after showering and dressing for the office I found her sitting on the terrace staring out at the city with her cup of coffee in her hand. I found a cup she’d poured for me in front of the coffee maker.  I drank half the cup while reading emails on my smartphone in the kitchen and then I poured the rest down the drain. I stepped out onto the terrace.

“You off to work?” she looked up at me with what looked like a hopeful look on her face.

“Yep. See ya later. I’ll probably be late so don’t, uh, wait for me for dinner.”

“Would you like me to cook you something that you can eat when you get back?” she asked with what was definitely hope on her face.

“Naw, don’t worry. Don’t know how late I’ll be. I’ll probably just grab something.”

She gave me a thin smile. She saw right through me. I felt a pang of guilt. No, I shouldn’t push her away. That wouldn’t help either of us. I shook my head and changed my mind.

“Can you cook? Besides bacon and eggs?”

“I’m not terrible at it.”

“Okay, cook me something. You eat, though, and just put mine in the fridge and reheat it when I get in. Kiss me goodbye.”

She got to her feet.

I pulled her in for a kiss and I tried to make it a good one. I ran my thumb across her cheek before I left.

In the elevator on the way down to the garage I texted Lisa and asked if we could meet the following day at the office after lunch. Maybe she’d give me some perspective.

** ** **

I called the apartment after I met with Zack and Angel didn’t answer.

I didn’t like it. It had me worried so I called again two minutes later. No answer.  Maybe she was in the shower. Maybe she was taking a nap. Maybe she’d taken a leap off my balcony to her death because she was so cracked because of what those sons of bitches did to her. I waited ten more minutes that felt more like an hour and called again. No answer.  I had a sinking feeling.

I rushed home, sick to my stomach. When I got off the elevator music assaulted my ears and it was coming from my apartment. I got in, disarmed the alarm, and found her in the den working out with my Bowflex. She had the door open and my stereo in the living room was on max, playing Gimme Shelter by the Rolling Stones, most definitely drowning out the land line and maybe the landlines of the entire floor.

My heart was racing.  I leaned against the doorframe and let out a deep breath.

She stopped exercising, looking a little startled at the sight of me. She had a white towel beside her. She wiped her forehead and dabbed at her chest and then stood up, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a glug.

“Hi,” she shouted over the music, “Everything okay?”

“Fine, fine.” I raised my index finger to tell her
one sec
and then went into the bedroom and grabbed the cell phone box out of the silver bag in the drawer and came back, turning the stereo off on my way. I put the phone box on my desk.

“Fuck that was loud!”

Her eyes widened, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby. That was one of the gifts I bought you yesterday. I’ve been trying to call and couldn’t get you. Freaked me out.”

I leaned over and turned the ringer up on the desk phone. It was pretty low. Not that she’d have heard it over that music.

I opened the phone box and took the phone out, “I’ll program my numbers,” I said and sat down on the futon.

“I’ll just…uh..I was gonna grab a fast shower. You’ll be here long enough?”

I nodded and put the sim card into the phone.

“I’ll be fast,” she said and jogged out of the room.

Listening to music blaring like that wasn’t something a timid and broken woman would typically do. At least I didn’t think so. I got a little smile on my face. I fiddled with the phone a minute and then thought
Fuck It
and called my receptionist and told her to clear my afternoon. I went to the master bathroom, stripped outta my suit, and got in the shower with Angel. I gave her a smile as I moved in and got my mouth around her left nipple, my fingers between her legs.

I pinned her against the shower wall and kissed my way slowly down to her thighs and then got on my knees and hooked one of her legs over my shoulder and as I tasted her she drove her fingers into my hair and moaned. There were definite advantages to having my office five minutes from where I had my angel.

BOOK: Truth or Dare; The Dominator II
4.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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