“Thane, seriously, this is—”
“Strike two. Master Thane or Sir are the only two titles I accept during scenes. Atticus tells me this is your safe place, so we'll keep it that way.” He rested his hand on top of her head, threading his fingers through her hair. “You're a strong woman, Connie, I get that. I saw it out there in the bar. I like it, a lot. But you don't hide the submissive in you as well as you believe you do. It showed in your eyes when Atticus grabbed you by the neck. The eyes don't lie.”
She squirmed, wishing she'd put panties on, but the damn leather pants left no room for underwear, not even a damn thong. Her pussy clenched, enjoying the gentle tug of his fingers in her hair, savoring the rhythm and inflections of his voice. “I don't know you.”
“No,” he agreed easily, “you don't. Which should make what comes next a little less difficult to handle.”
“Oh, fuck you and Atticus—” Her sentence was cut off abruptly by a sharp yelp.
Thane's hand fisted in her hair and pulled her to her feet in one swift move, using that firm grip to guide her over to the bed and push her face down on the covers. “Strike three, strike out. I tolerate profanity, Connie. I understand the need for it, especially in untenable situations, but I will not allow a sub to direct it at me or any other Dominant.” He released her hair, then moved behind her as she tried to straighten.
What the hell was he doing? Connie shoved herself upright, only for his hand to land in the middle of her back and bend her back over. His other hand slid beneath her, finding and deftly unfastening the button of her pants. The hiss of her zipper made her struggle, adrenaline and arousal surging through her veins.
His fingers disappeared into the open vee of her pants, smoothing over the thin layer of pubic hair on her mound on their way to her pussy. She tried to squeeze her thighs together, but two fingers found her clit, circling it carefully. She blushed as her hips jerked forward, moaning when he moved down further and discovered her entrance. The leather didn't give him much room to play with, but he didn't seem to care.
“Wet,” he hummed in approval. “I like wet and warm and tight. Oh, look. Atticus left me some toys to play with. How thoughtful. I usually give girls with dirty mouths something to wash the bad words out with, but this could be more fun for me. No blindfolds, no blood play, no pet play, and no watersports—have I remembered that right?”
She moaned again, deeper this time. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. Quick response, pleasant manner, very respectful.” Thane removed his fingers, and she heard him sucking them clean as she grabbed onto the covers. “You know your safewords, you know how to use them and when, correct?”
She wanted to hear that warm praise again. “Yes, Master Thane.”
“Excellent. Improving every time.”
The hand on her back lifted, and she felt both sets of his fingers take hold of her waistband and work the leather down over her hips. Down her thighs, her calves, until her pants were in a pool at her feet and cool air kissed her exposed flesh. With a quiet murmur, he ordered her to step out of the material—she obeyed, trembling slightly as he touched her buttocks, her pussy, her thighs.
“Stand up straight,” he commanded, then proceeded to undo the laces holding her corset in place. As it began to slide away from her breasts, he simply gave it a helping hand and then tossed it aside. Leaving her naked. “Turn around and face me, link your hands at the back of your neck, and keep those feet apart.”
Connie discovered she had no snappy comeback. The Domme had left the building, and the submissive was eager to please. She inched around until she could see Thane's face, her hands lifting to link together around her nape. With her elbows out, her chest lifted. Thane did look this time, the amber deepening with arousal as it stroked over her bare flesh, bringing her nipples to hard peaks.
“Stunning. Absolutely stunning, sugar.” Running both sets of fingertips down either side of her neck, he continued over her chest, between her breasts. Curved around to skim over her ribs, her hips, her ass. “Beautifully soft skin. Let's spread these a bit more, shall we?” He gave the inside of her feet a quick tap with his own, directing them further apart. “Just like that.”
She blinked when he dropped to one knee in front of her, tempted to clutch his hair and pull him to where the ache throbbed most. With her thighs so far apart, she knew he had an excellent view of her pussy. Amazingly, she felt herself blush as his eyes locked on her. Distracting herself with thoughts of what she'd make him do to her if the shoe was on the other foot wasn't enough when he leaned forward and licked slowly.
Her thighs trembled.
If this was Thane's idea of punishment, Connie was all for breaking every single rule he came up with. Hell, she'd break them before he even thought of them. She bit her lip to stop a wanton moan escaping, but the man was astute. He was aware of the effect he had on her, probably more than she was.
He stood up, licking his lips after just one lick, and grinned. She liked the shape of his mouth, no matter what shape it made. When he reached out and plucked her lip from between her teeth, she did some licking of her own, tasting salt on his thumb. “Careful, sugar. I might decide to give you something more substantial to set that tongue on. No blindfolds,” he murmured without pause. “Can I trust you to keep your eyes closed?”
“I think I can manage that, Sir.”
“Don't disappoint me.” Gently, he passed his hand over her face, giving her a silent command she heard clearly. “They stay closed no matter what I do next, Connie. I'll tell you when you can open them again.”
Her sense of stranger danger finally kicked in. A prickling sensation ran over her skin as she realized she was alone, naked, in a room with a man she didn't know from Adam. Dear God, how could she be so stupid? Making the same idiotic mistakes she'd made with Evan—letting a strong Dom, gorgeous mouth, and oodles of charm sway her decisions—was the worst thing she could do—look how badly that had ended for her in the past.
So fucking badly, she was feeling the repercussions years after the event.
Slowly, her arms fell to her sides and she took a step away. Breath shuddering, she tried to banish the voice hissing in her ear, telling her she was a bad little bitch. Disobedient, stupid, ungrateful. All the things she'd tried so hard not to be…all the things she'd failed to correct, even with Evan's belt lashing down on her shoulders, his boot bruising her body.
Thane read her face and immediately held his hands up, palms out. “Connie, you're okay. Breathe, sugar.”
The oddest, most ridiculous noise burned her throat. This feeling was foreign, and she didn't like it, at all. Somehow, somewhere in the last twenty minutes, Thane had slipped control from her fingers without her realizing it. Panic swelled, sweeping her off her feet.
This was why she embraced her dominant side so completely. The Domme kept control firmly in her grasp, not letting anyone or anything steal it from her. The Domme couldn't be intimidated, berated, forced, or bullied into doing anything she didn't want to do. The Domme couldn't be reduced to a helpless, quivering, distressed thing.
Hands still in sight, Thane walked away from her. Calmly, he opened one of the cupboards, grunting when he couldn't find what he was looking for. He tried two more cupboards while Connie fought to calm her breathing, then came back to her with a blanket spread between his hands. Carefully, making no sudden moves, he draped it around her shoulders.
“It's okay, Connie. Say the word. You've hit your limit—say the word.”
Her heart squeezed painfully as she whimpered. “Red.”
*
As soon as Connie whimpered the safeword, her knees buckled. Reading the signs, Thane scooped her up before her body had time to fall, lifting her up and carrying her to the rocking chair. He sat, cuddling her tightly as she shook, and counted the seconds off in his head. Rocking gently, he said nothing, letting her take comfort from his presence if she needed it.
Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four…
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Honestly, he was impressed she'd made it so far without freaking out. Atticus had dumped a load of information on him while Connie slept, along with a few dire warnings that the woman wouldn't be a cooperative submissive to begin with. Thane knew how difficult it was to shift fluidly from one extreme personality to the other; relinquishing dominance and embracing submission was like being a lead detective on a case, then suddenly becoming the victim.
Okay, that was possibly the worst analogy he'd ever thought of, but it was that kind of power exchange they were dealing with. It took time and practice to switch—no pun intended—from one to the other, and from what he understood, Connie had spent the best part of a decade denying a very vital part of herself from existing as it should.
Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight…
A soft knock on the door had Thane nodding in approval. Thirty-eight seconds as a response time was admirable, taking into consideration it was Friday night and Avalon was heaving. Unwilling to disturb Connie, he kept his mouth shut and his eyes on the door as it eased open. A dark head peered around it, the face unfamiliar.
Instinctively, Thane cupped his sub's face and turned it against his chest, protecting her identity as best he could. Adjusting the blanket higher for extra shielding, he gestured for the monitor to enter and do his job. The guy was bigger than him by maybe an inch, Thane thought, but totally outclassed him in width.
“Hey, everything okay in here?” Startlingly dark blue eyes swept over Thane, over the shivering bundle in his arms. “We got a safeword alert.”
“Quick response time,” Thane shot back with a wry smile. “Do you guys get training on how to respond to an SOS?”
“No, we just haul ass where we're needed, prepared for anything. I was just putting my wife down for a nap in my office when the alert came in, and seeing as it's just across the hall, I got here first. Braun Fitzpatrick, owner,” he added quietly as Connie stirred. “Looks like you've got everything under control here, but I need to check with your sub.”
Grimacing, Thane glanced down. Atticus and the bartender, Liam, were in on this plan that he was aware of, but no one had mentioned whether the club owner was privy to the details. He was reluctant to expose Connie to anyone who wasn't in the loop about this unique circumstance. Possessively, he held her tighter, one hand cupping the back of her head. “Yeah, I'm gonna have to decline, Braun. No disrespect to you.”
The friendly, curious expression on Braun's face turned dangerous in the space of a heartbeat. He'd left the door open a few inches, evidently expecting to check the situation and leave, but now he shut it and stalked halfway across the room, his blue eyes blazing. “I'm afraid you don't have the option of declining. I'll speak to your sub, now, or I'll drag your ass out of the club and kick it across the parking lot.”
It wasn't wise to make an enemy of the man who owned the one place that felt like home, Thane reminded himself, weighing his options. Getting his membership suspended or, worse, a ban from the club would suck, but Connie's right to privacy was infinitely more important. “I understand, but there's a lot at stake here. Including my sub's trust in me. Look, talk to Atticus, okay?”
The blue became narrow slits of fire. “What does Atticus have to do with this?”
Connie sighed. “It's fine, Thane. Don't piss the boss off.” She lifted her head, the blanket sliding back, and she turned her face toward Braun. “Don't beat the new guy up, Braun. It doesn't set a good example for the masses out there.”
Thane rubbed a hand over her back, trying to relax the muscles stiff with anxiety. By the stunned look on Braun's face, he either hadn't known Connie switched teams, or he hadn't expected to find her bundled up on a stranger's lap in a private play area. It didn't really matter—the cat was out of the kinky bag and there was no shoving it back in. “You don't have to do this, Connie.”
Soft gray eyes peered up at him, sad and resigned. “Braun won't say anything. He's one of the Masters, Thane. The original Master.”
Big arms encased in long shirt sleeves crossed over the broad chest. “What's going on, Connie? Who is this guy? Atticus mentioned he had…concerns about you and that he had something in mind to help, but I got the impression he was the one who'd be dealing with you. Nothing was said about you being submissive, or scenes with unfamiliar members in private playrooms.”
Just a quiver of her bottom lip. It wasn't much, but Thane caught it. She was trying to straddle a dangerous line by being the strong woman Braun expected her to be at a time when she needed to be seen, and accepted, as the submissive. And as the submissive, she had a real aversion to confrontation. “Connie, look at me, sugar. He's not shouting at you. He's not angry with you.”
“What the hell—”
Thane slashed his hand through the air, silencing Braun's exclamation. “Braun has to understand how complex you are. He's known you a long time, right? A long time, and you've kept this hidden from everyone because not everyone understands.” He glanced at the bewildered Master apologetically. “I think, once you and I are done in here, you should talk to the ones closest to you, so they can see this from your point of view.”
“I've messed everything up,” she whispered.
“Nothing that can't be fixed. Can't blame the guy for being shocked,” Thane whispered back. “Believe me, I've been there, sugar. We have things to discuss that can't be left until a later date,” he added, brushing his lips over her forehead. “Do you trust me enough to stay with me here, alone, while we talk? I know that's the issue,” he told her when she hesitated. “Self-defense mechanism, being in an isolated room with a man you don't know, in a state of mind you're not familiar with. It's okay to be scared, even if you think you're not allowed to be.”
“Can someone please tell me what's going on?” Braun demanded.
Making sure Connie remained bundled in the blanket, Thane rose and set her into the rocking chair as carefully as he would a newborn. He brushed the hair away from her face, pushed the chair into motion, then turned to face Braun with what he hoped was a diplomatic smile. Not friendly, not hostile, but a lukewarm balance of the two. “Connie is just fine, Braun. She's still finding her limits and some of her anxiety got the better of her. I promise you, she is safe with me, and as soon as we're done here, she'll come find you. But right now, you need to let me tend to my sub. As hard as it is,” he murmured, “you know the drill.”
The Dom's obvious concern and bafflement was monumental. Braun ran his hands over his face roughly, then clenched his jaw. “Fine, but I'd really like some answers…Thane, is it? If Connie safewords again, you and I will be discussing some things of our own. In the parking lot.” The look in those blue eyes promised retribution, then softened when they left Thane's face to land on Connie. “Con, I…I'll see you soon.”
With one last fulminating glare, the force of nature known as Braun left the room.
Thane wasn't proud enough to deny his own passive side was a little shaken by the big guy. Fortunately, he was comfortable enough in his own skin to shake it off. “Okay, that was fun. Not as much fun as a root canal, but close.” He rolled the tension from his shoulders and prepared for round two with Connie.
Not surprisingly, she was sitting up in the chair when he turned around, tugging the blanket around her. He could see her using it as a shield against him, shutting him out, and that was what he couldn't allow. Once those barriers went up, it would take a shitload of C4 and a battering ram to take them down again.
“Okay, sugar. Hiding time's over and done. Do you want to talk first, or should I?”
Connie fidgeted in the chair. The war in her eyes was beautiful to watch—Thane couldn't predict the outcome, but the fight itself was enlightening. It was like two snakes writhing around each other, each dragging the other down whenever one rose above. “I…I should apologize. It wasn't you, you didn't do anything wrong. I panicked.”
Oh, that admission didn't sit well with her. Thane nodded slowly, rubbing his thumb over his lip
as he nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, that's good to know. Think you can tell me why, so we can stop it from happening again?”
Turbulent gray eyes met his; she shook her head.
Sorry, sugar, not taking no for an answer. You can and you will. He paced forward, acknowledging the wariness in her gaze, and stopped in front of her. Despite the nagging ache in his leg, he crouched down and gripped the padded armrests to brace himself, with the added benefit of caging her in. “This clever brain of yours is stuffed full of secrets, Connie. So many, they're gonna start leaking out of your ears if you're not careful. My job is to give you somewhere to offload those secrets, knowing they'll be kept in confidence.”
Pulling the blanket tighter, Connie frowned. “That's not your job.”
“Sure it is. Tonight, you're my submissive. From what I've heard, you're the kind of Domme subs flock to. Kind, compassionate, firm. You understand the weight of responsibility that falls on our shoulders when the safety of another person sits in our hands.” He lifted his, palms up and cupped. “Tonight, you're in mine. That weight falls on me. I won't drop you, Connie.”
For several long seconds, she studied his face. Whatever she saw, she seemed to approve of, because she closed her eyes in resignation. “This doesn't leave this room. Atticus knows, but he's the only one. I was praying he wouldn't have the details, but that man can get his hands on anything. I need you to promise, Thane.”
Without hesitation, he stuck out the little finger on his right hand. “Pinky swear?”
Her hand crept out from beneath the blanket, her tiny finger hooking around his firmly. When he lowered his hand to her lap, she didn't let go. “I was in a toxic relationship, years ago. I was young, stupid, and had the wool pulled over my eyes by a fucking gorgeous Dom in a nightclub I had no right being in. He was perfect—all those words you used to describe me? Well, they all applied to him. He was smooth, charming, sociable. Talented in bed, which didn't help my infatuation.”
Talk For Me: Club Avalon Book 3 Page 10
