by lanie love
She floats in the room and lands gracefully like a feather on the stool to watch me as I pour. I hand her a glass and her delicate fingers encircle it. She twirls the glass around before bringing it to her nose, inhaling the rich fragrance.
“Mmm,” she moans.
“You drink wine?”
“I do. My aunt turned me on to it. We toured a lot of vineyards back east and it’s something I still enjoy.”
“To our arrangement,” I say to her as I raise my glass. “May we get everything we desire.”
I take a sip, letting the sweet nectar rest on my tongue before swallowing. I watch as she takes her sip, closing her eyes to savor the taste.
“Mmm,” she moans again. My dick twitches hard when she purses her lips, swallows, and parts them with a small smack. I’m almost in a hypnotic trance watching her throat work. “So good.”
“It most certainly is.”
“Shit,” she says, remembering something. She hops off the stool and I follow her into the living room. She grabs her bag and pulls out her phone checking it before she heads back over to me. “JR will be home in a few hours, I should get going,” she says turning to look at me.
And there goes my erection.
“I was going to suggest we eat first. I wouldn't want to send you off on an empty stomach after you've exerted so much energy.” She rolls her eyes at me awakening my Dom. I stalk up to her, possessed by a flash of fury at her disrespectful behavior. Sensing my anger, she wisely takes a step back and lowers her eyes to the floor. I wrap her damp ponytail around my left hand and yank her head up to look at me. Her hands fly up to her head to cover mine in an effort to pry my fingers from her hair. She looks up at me wide eyed and panicked, making my anger wane slightly. “Miss Turner, eye rolling is rude and it will not be tolerated, is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she squeaks out.
No longer angry, I take the thumb and index finger of my right hand and twist her overly sensitive left nipple. She looks up at me again, almost begging me not to stop as her body trembles. Mmm, still so responsive, Miss Turner, I'm going to love playing with you. She’s a second away from coming right on my living room floor. As much as I would love to see it, this was meant to be a punishment, so I release her, unsatisfied.
“Dinner,” I ask, walking back to the kitchen.
“What? I'm sorry… Sir?” She tries to regain her composure.
“Shall I feed you before you leave, Miss Turner,” I ask again, not liking the idea of her going to bed hungry.
“Oh no, JR always leaves food for me, but thank you, sir.”
Well, thank fuck that useless prick is finally good for something.
“Good, I'll have Collin escort you to your car.”
“Before I go, I would like to discuss something with you. It's kind of a problem that I have.”
“What is it?”
“I need to cut, sir,” she says.
“Are you asking for permission to hurt yourself again, Miss Turner?” I tap my index finger on the counter, waiting for her answer. I know she’s not really standing there asking me that shit.
“Yes, sir, but only a little. JR and I, well, I only need to when we're together. I need to do it to come for him.”
I silently count to ten. It does nothing, so I count again. Nope. I walk up to her once again.
“Sage,” I whisper her name in a last-ditch effort to hide my anger. “Are you asking me to allow you to cut into your skin so that another man can have your orgasm?”
Is she actually planning on fucking him after she leaves here tonight?
“Yes, for my boyfriend, sir.” She empathizes that fucking word just to piss me off and it works.
“You had no problem coming for me. Quite loudly, as I recall,” I counter. Her face turns beet red as she scowls at me.
“What we do is different, sir. Jacob is not fucked up like we are. He loves me and he wants to show me in a normal way. I want to give him that. So, please let me.”
“No.”
“Sir,” she says, with the nerve to be shocked at my refusal.
“Do you think your normal boyfriend would be okay with the fact that you have to cut yourself in order to come for him,” I ask her, still pissed off and slightly hurt that she thinks what we just shared was, in her words, “fucked up.”
“Of course not, that's why I'm here wasting time with you, so I can learn to be a better girlfriend for him, so please just let me.”
And now I'm fucking done with this shit.
“No. Never ask me again,” I say, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her ass to the elevator. She’s damn lucky it’s not back upstairs to the playroom.
“And if I do it anyway,” she says, jerking away from me.
Oh, Angel, don't tempt me. This can turn bad quickly.
“The choice is ultimately yours, but my position remains the same. If you cut, our arrangement will be over. Now, Collin will escort you down.” I say the last part loud enough to ensure that he knows it’s time for him to get her the fuck out of here. He emerges from the security office to escort the defiant little thing to her car. As the doors begin to close, I realize that she may very well choose not to return and that fact is unsettling for me. I don't want this to end so soon, especially in anger. I stare at her, trying to gauge what she’s planning to do.
She stares at me in return. Her arms are folded across her chest and if her hands weren’t tucked, she’d probably be giving me the finger as the elevator doors close. She’s staring like she’s planning my demise and I know that I am completely fucked.
“Shit,” I say out loud in complete frustration. I storm into the kitchen and gulp down the wine left in my glass before grabbing hers, pausing to taste the wine that she drank from.
The thought of her cutting herself to fuck that asshole is running a marathon in my mind. I need to let off steam and get my mind around what I plan on doing with my feisty new sub, so I go down to the gym for a quick workout.
Collin insists on accompanying me even though it's late and the place is totally deserted. Since the old guy is here, we decide to do a little boxing. This, of course, makes Collin's day because the only time he gets to kick my ass without the threat of being fired is now. After he knocks me flat on my ass for the third time in as many minutes, I decide to take a break.
“Did Miss Turner make it to her car okay,” I ask him. I can tell by his expression, he already knows where this is going.
“Yes, Mr. Wade. I escorted her down personally and placed her in the car myself.”
“Did she call anyone?”
“Not that I saw.” He knows that I’m pissed at his elusive response, but he refuses to engage me in this conversation. I know better than to think he would get involved in this part of my life. I get the message and dismiss him to go home to his wife.
Chapter Fourteen
Downtown Los Angeles
Sage Turner’s Loft
Sage Turner
I make it home in record time letting my anger fuel my driving. I discard my clothes and head straight to the shower as guilt hits me once again. I just had an amazing orgasm at the hands of another man, while the one that I love never entered my mind. Afterwards, I go to the full-length mirror and inspect my body.
I was sure there would be some form of bruising after the session I just had with Kent, I mean Mr. Wade, but there isn't a mark on me. Well, except for what I've done to myself and even those are beginning to fade.
I sigh in frustration. I have no clue as to what I'm going to do. I quickly change into my pajamas and go into the kitchen to eat the food that JR cooked for me. He'll be home soon. I debate if I should wait up for him, but I think better of it and head to bed.
Sleep evades me. I’ve been tossing and turning for an hour. Thoughts of the training session keep playing in my mind. Along with the disagreement we had before I left. Man, he really pissed me off. I could never be his sub. Not that he would want me anyway. I'm sure he think
s I'm way more trouble than I'm worth. I bet he's regretting ever agreeing to do this for me in the first place after the way I behaved.
Damn, I feel like shit. He is only doing what I asked him to. He didn't deserve the mean things I said to him before I left.
I look at the phone he gave me for the time. It's late, but I'll chance calling him anyway.
“Miss Turner.” He picks up on the second ring.
“Sir, your submissive in research training seeks forgiveness for her deplorable behavior tonight.”
“I am thinking of a proper punishment as we speak,” he says. And I catch my breath.
“I am at your mercy, sir.”
“I will show none,” he says. And I know he means it. “Good night.”
“Sir, may I ask a question without fear of being punished any further?”
“You may speak freely.”
“Well, I know that you require me not to cut, but I don't think you are sympathetic to what not cutting is costing me. It's not that I have an urge to cut, I just need it to be with JR.”
“Your desire to not cut for arousal was the reason for you starting this thing. You are the one who wants to pretend that what you're getting from your relationship is enough, all because you’re afraid to be who you are. You are not doing him any favors. And lying to yourself this way will end up hurting him and most importantly, you.”
“I just can't tell him. He'll never understand.”
“Then why are you doing it,” he asks. And I swear it’s sadness I hear in his voice.
Well, I don't need his pity. I love JR and he is what I need.
“I'll make him understand. I will. He has to. I can't lose him.”
“Fine. If you want to cut to fuck your normal boyfriend, then cut. If you want me as your Dom, then figure out how not to cut. If you want to find another Dom who won't give a shit about you or any of this bullshit as long as he gets to beat the shit out of you, then do that. But for fuck sakes, make up your damn mind. Pick one and commit yourself to it. Sleep well.”
“But when will we train again?”
After a long pause, he sighs deeply.
“You frustrate me to no end,” he says and I hear him catch his breath as I laugh.
“Sage,” he says, but suddenly stops.
“How shall I please you tonight, Master?” My ear burns hot when I hear a woman's voice.
Master? He's with a sub. Already.
“Thursday,” he says to me and hangs up.
I turn off the phone as tears well in my eyes. I don't know why I expected anything different. Unlike me, he has always been very clear about our arrangement. I don't even know why I'm so upset, but I cry myself to sleep all the same. I awake to feel JR climb into bed and wrap his arms around me. I drift off again comforted by his embrace.
The Ritz Carlton, Downtown Los Angeles
Kent Wade’s Apartment
Kent Wade
“How the fuck did you get in here, Jen?”
I look around the room like the answer will somehow reveal itself to me. She says nothing. She kneels there absolutely still, waiting for my command. Any other time I would have her tied up against the closest wall, fucking and beating the fucking shit out of her, but now, seeing her kneeling in the exact same spot my beautiful girl was just in only hours before has me seeing red.
I gather her clothes and throw them at her.
“Sir,” she says, holding them in her arms.
“Get the fuck up and get dressed, now,” I demand of her.
“But I so want to please you, sir,” she says. Her clothes fall at her feet as she gets up, walking towards me. “You need it, I can tell,” she says, seductively rubbing the palm of her hand over my rock-hard erection. I moan in spite of myself. Fuck, I do need it. I want her. I imagine myself being buried balls deep, drowning in her wet pussy. Fuck, just the taste of her on my fingers. She was so fucking sweet. I wanted to lick her dry, touch every inch of her and find that spot to make her squirt all over me. I am thrust out of my musings by the sight of Jen dropping to her knees in front of me. “I know how much you like this.” She starts to unzip my pants. Reflexively, I grab her wrists and push her back. She falls hard, flat on her ass.
“Get up.”
“Come on, Kent. I saw the way you looked at me at Chains. I saw how jealous you were. I know you still want me. Let me please you, Master. I’ll even pretend to be Allie again for you.”
That's about all I can take of her shit. That’s about all I can take of her calling me Master. That word coming out of her mouth is like venom in my blood, rancid and poisonous. My rational mind knows that she is just goading me, but the other, Dominant part of me doesn't give a flying fuck, and wants to hurt her. This bitch is in my playroom tainting it, and I want her out of here.
Her eyes follow me. A smile on her face, thinking she’s about to get her way—that seeing her submit to another man has me furiously wanting her. I walk over to the wall of canes and choose the one I know will do the most damage to her: The black Lexan cane. In all of our playtime together, the use of this particular cane is the only thing that terrified her. It’s long and thin, which makes the sting from its bite sharp and extremely painful. It’s her only hard limit. Respecting that fact, I had taken it out of the playroom, but brought it back when I dropped her ass.
Seeing my intent, she springs for the door, only to fumble around with the keypad. She presses the wrong code and jams it, effectively locking herself in. She turns around looking wide-eyed and wild at me. If I wasn’t so pissed, I would laugh at her.
“What the hell is wrong with you, Jen? Are you still this damn pathetic?”
“Me? What’s wrong with you? You’re about to beat me with that cane. All I wanted was a little sex.”
I roll my eyes at her, tossing the cane and throwing her clothes at her.
“Put them on and get the fuck out before I call security.”
“Man, you are no fun anymore,” she says. “What happened to the guy who used to pound me so good I’d cry?”
“He grew up. I suggest you do the same and stop playing these games. You’re not sixteen anymore.”
“And you're not forty. Why not have a little fun?”
“Fucking a psycho is not my idea of fun.”
“Fuck you.”
“Not on your life. Now, take the hint and leave me the fuck alone before I take a restraining order out against your crazy ass.”
“If you do, I’ll tell. The whole world will know about all of this,” she says flailing her arms around the room.
I walk up to her, making her hug the wall.
“Have you spoken to your dear old dad, lately, Jen?”
“What does he have to do with this?”
“Why don’t you go find out before making idle threats.” I reach behind her. She jumps in fear. “You’re not fucking worth it,” I tell her, punching the code to let her out.
She sprints out the door and down the stairs, looking over her shoulder as I stalk behind her. Her index finger is calling for the elevator so hard, I’m surprised it’s not broken off. It opens up and she falls inside.
“You haven’t heard the last of me, Kent Wade. I won’t just be ignored by you.”
“Stop with the bad acting and the movie clichés already. And get some self-respect.” I close the elevator and lock it.
Fuck, I need to calm down. I pace around the living room like a caged animal that has just been poked and prodded. Heading back up to the playroom, I can smell Jen’s scent all around me. The fact that she has not only gotten into my home, but in my playroom, where she has been unsupervised for God knows how long, spurs my anger.
I walk next over to the Saint Andrews Cross and glance down. Something catches my eye. I smile as I pick them up. Still lying on the floor where I ripped them off was my beauty’s red lace panties. Bringing them to my nose, I inhale the scent of her to calm me down.
I leave a text to Collin to bring in a cleaning crew first thing
in the morning. I want the playroom sanitized and every trace of Jen gone. I also tell him to alert hotel security. I want to know exactly how she managed to get past them when I made it clear she was no longer to be given access.
Checking it off the list, I make a phone call.
“Kent, Darling, how nice it is to hear from you so late in the evening.” The fake voice of feigned surprise makes me want to hang up on her.
“Cut the bullshit, Claire. I want to talk to you about keeping your goddamn daughter in line and away from me.”
****
Hancock Park, California
Wade Estate
Kent Wade
“What the hell's going on,” Aaron asks me as we meet each other in the driveway. “I had to bail on a dinner meeting.”
“I haven't a clue,” I tell him. We both hurry inside and search for Brooke. She’s in the sitting room, pacing with her phone to her ear. She acknowledges us with a nod of her head. “Okay, what's the emergency?”
“I can't find Mom,” she says, pushing the button on her phone to end a call.
“What do you mean, you can't find Mom,” Aaron asks her.
“I've been calling her all day, and she hasn't answered. Amy said she packed up and took off late yesterday afternoon, but she's still not back yet. It’s been over twenty-four hours. Mom’s never been M.I.A. this long. We need to start calling hospitals. Something has to be wrong.”
“Oops,” I say to my concerned siblings.
“Oops,” Brooke says, frowning at me.
“I forgot to tell you guys. Mom is fine. She just took off for a few weeks.”
“You forgot to tell us,” she says.
“Hey, I had a lot going on, okay?”
“And what do you mean a few weeks,” Aaron says.
“She called and asked to borrow my new jet,” I tell them. “She wanted to take a little vacation. You know, a getaway. So, I gave it to her.”
“Where did she go,” Aaron asks.
“The Dominican Republic. She’s getting a quickie divorce.”
“What,” Brooke says, her brows crinkle in anger at me. “You let her go off all by herself and do that? You know she's not thinking straight.”
