“What if I was her? Would you be doing this different?”
Mischievously, I grin. “Yes.”
Tightly her fingers embed further into the flesh of my ass. “Show me.”
I glance up, curious about her dangerous twist in the strategy. She blinks full of seduction and longing. “Show me how you would fuck Iris,” Serene whispers as I roll my eyes, clearly calling my bluff. “Do it, Lucas Salvatore. Show me.”
“I can’t…”
“Hmm… There is no can’t with your Mistress.”
Sighing deeply, I can’t believe the emotional conundrum I manage to tangle myself up in. I tighten my grip around her waist and move to the middle of the table as the glasses crash and shatter against the tile floor. Pushing into her with force, I rocket her to the stars, driving fast by the moon and the sun. My pace quickens as my thrusts reverberate through her very core. Seized by my lust, her body trembles against mine as my primal instincts hunt her down and pin her beneath my hard cock.
Letting go this way, I know she will grow to crave the sex as this urges a disastrous addiction waiting to occur. She looks straight on, her body pleading and heart splitting as she mumbles, “Trotter.”
SAL
After calling my safeword, Serene requests I not run off to the shower to paint the walls as I am so accustomed of doing. No longer in subspace, I catapult high off the thrill of her surrender. Dislodging from her, I immediately throw my fist into the stone fireplace—the price of the emotional surrender too great.
Sitting with an ice bag on my left hand at the same kitchen table my Dominant beast rose from, I shake uncontrollably with a jittery chill.
Walking up behind me, Serene wraps a blanket around my shoulders. Even though I took the lead and showed her my fantasy with Iris, I am still just a submissive following a command. And now, I need serious aftercare.
I want to be good—I do––and I am by Serene’s gold standard. Completing what she had asked, but in that act, I scar myself for the first time. Playing top on random subs is one thing—being a Dom for Serene or Iris—is an entirely different agenda. I haven’t been able to distinguish between the two until Serene spread her thighs. I didn’t understand. The random ones are cute, funny, and a fuck. But the reality is no emotional spark exists. It is all mechanics—do this, touch that, slow down, cum.
Ya, you son-of-a-bitch, cum.
No big fucking deal with that one.
Ain’t no skill in that, sweetheart—give me something I don’t know.
With Iris, I know it is ninety percent mind game because she wants this just as much as I do. And by God, heaven or hell, Serene will never stand for her trained up golden boy faltering like I just did. Iris isn’t going to get that chance because Serene put the stop in place.
“You must never question in front of your bottom. You can do it before or after, but never during a session, Lucas.” She grades my performance. “She needs your strength. You cannot be glitchy. It has to be smooth, focused transitions. You are leading. Do not take her down a bumpy road if you expect her to behave.”
With years of Dominance under my belt, Serene elevates the game and brings things up to a whole new level. She doesn’t want me running about all roughshod like some crazy monster with a whip. She insists I internally calibrate to her specifications like so many others—Jack, Kaci, hell even Mierne. I am good, but Serene wants to make me better by putting the final polish on her favorite toy. A new way of training begins—working towards becoming a calculated, unyielding, Dominant bastard.
It sounds easy enough. It isn’t.
In fact, it proves to be harder than anything I have ever done as a sub because not only do you have to keep your bottom’s shit straight, you gotta keep yours straight, too. And sometimes, that is a motherfucking nightmare.
Serene set out to prove a point and give a lesson. She did just that. The time rapidly escalating to where I want more, and she can no longer feed me. That has been clear since the beginning; she knew I would grow into a Dominant role.
And that is why she sent Zoe away.
And that is why this will be our one and only tango. With our making love, I acknowledge she is letting me go. Where I will find my pain, I do not know.
With my command coupled with flirtatious charms, I will no longer be a submissive. Iris is the first person I have taken a special, exclusive interest in since Kaci. But no one else fostered growth like Serene, so she took it upon herself to illustrate where I would most likely go wrong.
Turns out, she has been doing that—all along.
I am on the market—as a Master—and it will be a fucking-free-for-all on my ass.
I never planned for the onslaught of events that occurred between Iris and I. The wreck breaking her leg, Halloween Lights Out, and her going off with Kerris—god damn, did you see Iris fucking crawl? –– and New Year’s Bondage Bash balls deep in Cas. I didn’t plan on any of it.
We seem destined to always be somewhere between the blissful heaven of love and the hell of disgust. And fucking purgatory is never an option. I need Iris whole, committed, and collared to me.
But judging by how my hand looks, I am not ready to fully take on the sole responsibility of anyone, much less a bitch like that. Her issues flare my issues, and together we rampage like psychotic stalkers.
I need a teacher; Serene is available. As a Dominant, I will have to learn to channel the emotions differently than a sub. It is a tricky little spot rarely ever talked about. Subs seek comfort from Masters, but Masters… they do something else when they break.
In the beginning of relationships, Doms turn inwards and cut off their own issues. They don’t share easily. They take the subs head junk and give them an outlet in a session. I understand we have to be willing to evolve together, and our rates of change may not match up—leading to more strife than romance between us.
I immediately recognize this was what she and I have been doing all along, charting the groundwork for the course of our entanglement. But I never imagined I was also—her target.
The thing is with Iris—I want to work the relationship. Seriously. Committed. And she is the first girl since Kaci I can say that about. Everyone else was just a poa…piece of ass.
While I privately worry I will never be good enough, Serene pushes me to understanding that I am better than most. She likes my edges and playfulness, admitting formal training will buff it down, and that is the last thing Serene wants.
There are no words she can give to comfort, but it would not matter if she did…. I am swept away in the sea of emotions. Considering everything I lost, it is only fair to be somewhat far gone. I learned to be a submissive from many Doms. Now, I need the extra push to know how to flip it.
Iris is that push.
In the control seat, I take possession, holding the responsibility in my own hands. While the Dom program can teach me all that and more, I am Sal-fucking-Raniero. I want hands-on, grit and filth and dirt.
My fucking knuckles appear more and more like a row of purple grapes than flesh and bone. Serene touches my hair and asks, “You know how much I care about you?”
I don’t look at her; I can’t. I am frustrated and confused and worried.
“Sal, you have to grow,” she implores as her hand runs over my arm. “And that is only going to come if I push you off this cliff. You will not jump on your own. If you cannot understand that, that isn’t my fault.”
When she stands to walk away, I grab her hand with my good one.
“Do you know how tired I am of being tossed around like a bucket of popcorn? It was great fun five years ago. But now, I just want to settle in with someone. It doesn’t matter if she’s top or bottom. I can fuck any girl. I want someone I like the next morning.”
Furrowing her brow, Serene states the obvious, “You’re wanting a monogamous relationship, Sal. And that is why Kaci picked Iris. She spent months trying to find you. She spent years trying to find the perfect girl for you. Iris challenges
you. She sparks a fire in your eyes so bright it is blinding. You can no longer deny who you are or how you feel. You must stop running.”
Tears well up in my eyes—by this point, I feel like a fucking pansy ass crybaby—I nod, “Ya, a commitment to be present.”
Sitting back down, Serene cackles, “And you don’t think you can do that?”
“I wouldn’t say that, but I am not looking for a wife and kids. I’m looking for someone stable. Someone who cares more about my heart and less about my fucking D.”
“Do you remember what you told me the first time I met you? You said you loved to feel needed, to serve. And that giving yourself up to someone with complete abandon, trusting them to not break your soul. That was love to you,” Serene coaxes as her words shoot straight into my soul. I know where this is going. “Kaci broke you, baby boy. Let me try and fix you. That’s what she wanted.” Serene touches my hand softly. “I have a present for you in that house, but maybe you don’t want it now.”
I question her with a lift of my brows.
“You trusted Kaci. You trust me. Put some faith in yourself and trust Iris, too.” Serene promises, “You will not regret it.”
Adjusting the bag of ice on my hand, I cock a smile. “But will I get my present?”
“Honey, you are about to get all the presents.”
SAL
I cannot say I am unhappy about being free—truly free—from both of them. I love Serene’s special brand of torture and god, if I didn’t love sinking balls deep into Mierne. If the bridge has been built for me to crossover to Iris, there is no doubt I am going.
And when I get to where I want on the other side, I am burning the motherfucking thing so no one can ever harm us again.
No one ever really got that, why I have such a fascination with the Brit. Maybe it is all in the way she says my name.
Mierne is a motherfucking bombshell.
At one point, I would have married her in a heartbeat, but she would never have had me. Hell, I would have even been Salvatore Risen. It has a nice ring to it.
Her hips and lips proved worth getting lost in for a long time. The kind to make a guy forget about every other girl. Until the one shows up to make you question everything you think you know about yourself.
I’ll never forget when I was training up at Sib, and Mierne came to see me. We went to the city and took a bath together. I wanted to run off with her then. Forget the whole thing with Kaci. Because marrying that girl was like repeatedly stabbing yourself just to see if it hurts—and it wasn’t her fault. It was the cancer.
I loved the girl to pieces, but watching her die that way…fuck, it just about killed me. Here, Raniero, take my energy and run with it. Shitton of notches in my belt later, and here we are. Well, I used your energy. Luckily, I didn’t catch something.
So, after Kaci I just couldn’t do it again. I shut it down. The feelings were gone. Thankfully, I had Serene’s whip to bring me back every so often and Mierne’s hot twat to seek refuge in. The pair were like coming up for air. Go out—fuck, work, fuck, work, fuck—go see Serene and get beat the crap out of so I could run to Mierne and breathe just to do it all over again.
I wanted to run off alone with Mierne, but she was well past the running stage. She didn’t need to run any more. She found her place in the world. We were in separate places, but it didn’t change how damn good she was on my dick. Mierne became a drug I couldn’t get enough of and when Serene said the three of us would put my sorry ass back together again, I was like oh hells ya…little did I know, it was just another lie.
But Mierne—oh, I loved fucking that woman. Maybe because I knew I could never, ever have her. She was my solace. If I could have some skewed combination of Kaci, Serene, and Mierne, she would be the perfect woman. Maybe Kaci knew that. Maybe Kaci built Iris for just that.
But it didn’t turn out that way because nothing about life turns out the way it should. Serene promised a present, but before I could have it, she issued one final test. So, I went to see Mierne.
Per my norm, I sneak in the backdoor only to find her dressed to the nines and about to go out. I did a double-take. One, because she looks amazing. And two, where the fuck is she going?
In a tight, midnight blue dress with a low v-dip in the front, she rushes past me to the coffee machine. Placing a pod in, she has on a full face of warpaint and smells good enough to bang right then and there. “You can stay here if you would like.”
Lifting my ass up on the counter, I ask, “Where are you going?”
“I have a weekend date in Austin,” she replies, adding cream to her tumbler.
“Excuse me?”
“I know this isn’t the best time for you with Zoe and Cas both gone, but I need you to pull it together, Salvatore. I need you to stay whole.”
I take a very clear note about her not mentioning the girl between us—Iris. Mierne didn’t understand that one either. Blocking her exit with my leg, I again inquire, “Where are you going?”
“I told you Austin,” she says, growing agitated.
Her attitude pushes a warning from my lips. “Don’t be a shit to me.”
“I am not being a shit to you, Salvatore,” Mierne argues. “I am going to Austin to meet with my publisher, and then I am meeting Robert for dinner tomorrow night.”
Staring into her gorgeous chocolate eyes, I clarify, “… Robert Garcia, as in your ex-husband?”
“Yes, he wants to meet with me for some reason,” she said, tasting her coffee. “He refuses to tell me on the phone.”
I want to ask her if she is going to fuck him, but I refrain and instead decide to give her a delectable little memory for the next three days.
Hopping off the counter, I grab her arms and push her against the refrigerator. She melts easily against me and before I know it, she threatens to beat my ass if I leave a white stain on her blue dress.
She is so good.
Probably because she is so easy. If I need a hit, she provides, locking her legs around my body and letting me have her. She will never allow me to top her. I accepted that long ago, but it doesn’t change the sex in the least. Hot and lustful, it is damn near perfect fucking.
But that is the thing—it is just sex—vanilla sex at that. Sure, she loves me and I love her, but she doesn’t want attachment. She isn’t looking for a Mr. Risen or even to be a Mrs. We did our thing, and she left.
Good sex, but is it worth the emotional vacancy?
Maybe. Hard to say. Something shifted in me over the last nine months. I am looking for a deeper meaning now—a spiritual fulfillment—and I am not getting that. I whored myself out so much that I can get a blowjob anywhere in Sugargrove in less than ten minutes. Hell, if I go to Austin or Houston, too. Anywhere, really. But if I want someone to just hang with—I am shit outta luck. And let me tell ya, that fuckin sucks.
I head back to the farmhouse sexually frustrated—despite three shots down—and missing the hell out of number one. Taking a long hot bath, I try to forget about the little dumpling locked up next door and the fact that I just fucked three, including goodbye sex with both my Mistresses—my Dominatrix and my lover. Number one pulls my soul and pushes my sanity.
Iris made her point very clear when she left before taking the contract. “The catatonic, unbreakable girl is out of your world now, so you can go back to being you. Thanks for the good time. Goodbye, Raniero.”
Her words spin on repeat through my thoughts as I soak in bubbles up to my neck. I blame Kaci for this. She taught me the love of bathing. Nights when last chance chemistry efforts left her like death warmed over, I could put her in the tub with me, lay her body between my legs, and stroke her face until she drifted off to dreamland.
I lost her.
I close my eyes tight, refusing to cry again and reverting back to the provocative puss next door.
The thing about Iris is her struggle in acceptance. She embraces the physical challenges, and I want to give her seconds for a blow job well done.
With that in mind, I know I have a problem—a serious fuckin problem. Rewards and reprimands are given to submissives. And damn if I don’t want the girl.
Bubbles cascade along my arm as I stroke my cock watching one of her many saved videos. No one knows how long I have been toying with her. No one at Juliet has a clue about her alter-ego, Rie Ford, lining her pockets and playing dirty. Or the girl sent on a mission to eliminate me. No one got it like I did.
Iris is a bad girl.
A really bad girl.
And I am going to be the mofo to punish her for her sins.
Chapter Seven
The Kiss of the Whip
IRIS
DESPITE THE BLINDFOLD, I know where I am.
Backed up to pro-Domme Stephanie Serene Smith-Stanton’s farmhouse, the land connects to Jack’s property. He was once her star submissive.
Everything from Serene’s farmhouse to Jack’s house belongs to someone else, I realize in quiescent acceptance.
His marriage to Kaci acquired the manwhore many things including the incredible property and both houses. Kaci and Sal were constructing the house before she died. Even more startling was his owning of the Victorian farmhouse—and other properties.
I had no idea the little shit was so twisted.
Sal kept secrets—big ones—but so did I.
The dungeon resembles any other building with a metal exterior and wood trim. I have seen it a thousand times and been carried into it once or twice. If you pass by it, it is completely disguised. No one is any the wiser that the equipment shed with the Cardinal-S weathervane is anything more than a farm storage facility.
While I have seen the dungeon before, I never really took it in. I have always been too nervous and scared, but the second he removes the blindfold, I soak in my surroundings.
The inside is custom to suit any fetish need. Multiple entry doors insure a staging area so no submissive is aware of what waits in store for them once the main door opens. It is both unsettling and disturbing.
Salt Kissed Love (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 1) Page 10
