Reading His Submissive

by Brandi Evans

  She nodded, a single tear slipping free. “Whatever you think might help, I’d welcome it.”

  He stiffened.

  Smiling, she lifted a shaking hand and traced her thumb over one of his eyebrows. “Furrowed brow. Wide eyes. I shocked you, didn’t I?” She’d said those words to him before in the Restrained Fantasies’ locker room, and they were as true this time as they were before.

  He ignored the humor she was trying to inject. “You’re going to let me help you?”

  She nodded. “I’m frozen between two courses of action, and I can’t decide. No matter which I choose, someone’s life will be ruined.”

  “I’ll do anything and everything I can, Genny. I swear it.” And he sealed his words with a kiss.

  Chapter 9

  Raven flexed her fingers and toes, letting the sensation of being on the St. Andrews Cross fill her.

  Sir stood before her, checking each point of restraint as she tested them herself. Bound. Helpless. Totally at his mercy. Should it scare her how amazing she felt in restraints?

  When Sir was satisfied, he turned his smile on her. This wasn’t the same smile from the boat. There was nothing content in the expression reflecting at her. Not even a little bit. This smile had feral satisfaction woven throughout it.

  “Perfect.” Sir brought his hands to her waist, where her corset had ridden up and created a gap between itself and her jean skirt. “How do you feel, pet? Anything too tight?”

  “No, Sir. Everything feels nice.”

  “Good to hear.” He leaned in, and she braced for one of his highly addictive kisses. At the last moment, however, he changed targets and went straight to her neck.

  He nipped his way along her carotid artery until she was squirming, and a groan crawled from the depths of her throat. She thrust her hips forward as far as she could, desperately trying to increase the friction between their bodies. Not being able to get close enough to Sir was one of the drawbacks to being bound. She couldn’t touch him—or be touched—in quite the way she wanted.

  “We’ve got the room to ourselves after the class,” she murmured mostly to remind herself and because she couldn’t remember if she’d told him.

  “Was that a question, pet?”

  “No, Sir. It was a statement.”

  He pulled back and looked a question at her. “You reserved the space for us?”

  She nodded. “I hope that was okay. I was speaking with Brock earlier, and I—”

  “Shh.” He grabbed her ass hard, stepping fully into her and fusing them together. “Willingly putting yourself in my hands is always okay in my book. And maybe one day, you’ll see fit to give yourself to me inside the main club.”

  “Carter—” She immediately caught herself. “Sir, I—”

  He cut her off with a hard kiss, and when he stepped back, he was all business again—at least the Dom equivalent. “I know tonight’s class will test you, but I swear, I’ll keep you safe at all times.”

  “I know you will, Sir.”

  This class would be the most taxing on her as Sir wouldn’t be the only Dom touching her. Sir had assured her he wouldn’t let anyone strike her or touch her in an intimate way. They would ‘playact’ scenes with her, nothing more.

  Still, the idea scared the living bejesus out of her. She trusted Sir, not that her trust stopped anxiety from building in her veins at the thought of another Dom touching her, playacting or not.

  Before they could further discuss the topic, the all too familiar pre-class knock sounded against the door.

  “Come!” Sir called, giving her forehead a kiss before turning to greet the familiar group of attendees. Masters Brock, Stephen, Steel, Ewan, Matt, and the rest. Sir took a few minutes to mingle with his students, greeting each person by name. He never remained too long in any one place—until he reached the boss.

  Raven examined the two men as they spoke. They stood with similar stances, feet about hips distance apart, arms crossed over equally muscled chests, even if one chest was much more expansive than the other. She couldn’t help but wonder if they realized they’d each adopted a typical alpha male stance. Or was it nothing more than secure, commanding Doms in their natural environments?

  Their voices were pitched low and she couldn’t make out any specific words. They smiled as they spoke though, so whatever had caused Carter to linger wasn’t anything negative.

  Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Shit. Steel was watching her. He had the same smirk on his face as he had the night he’d talked about taming her, and the same rebellious tickle made her stand straighter. She refused to let Steel get to her.

  She turned to Sir. I trust Sir. He won’t hurt me. He won’t try to tame me. She repeated the phrase over and over until Carter turned back to her. Sir’s features hardened as he focused on her. With one look, he’d deciphered something had changed, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the touch she knew would come.

  Several heartbeats later, Sir cradled her neck between his comforting hands and ran his thumbs up and down the vein and artery on either side in the soothing manner he excelled at.

  “Genny?” He kept his voice barely audible. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing so long as you’re touching me, Sir.”

  “Genny?” The warning tremble of his voice made her open her eyes, and she offered her most reassuring smile.

  “It’s Steel,” she whispered. “He gets in my head.”

  Sir nodded understandingly. “He tends to do that, even to the most confident, disciplined subs.”

  She hadn’t told Sir about the ‘taming’ comment, and she doubted she would. She was dealing with it in her own way, and she was doing a damn good job if she said so herself. If things ever got too weird, she’d tell him, but this wasn’t the time.

  “You need another minute?” Sir asked.

  She shook her head. “I’m ready when you are, Sir.”

  After one more kiss, Sir turned to the class. “Congratulations. You’ve made it to the final class. We’ve learned about the ins and outs of how to read your sub. We’ve talked about tells, nonverbal communication, and the Ten Commandments of Nonverbal Communication. We’ve gone over facial cues, posture, kinesics, and more. In other words, I’ve given you the puzzle pieces, but tonight, we’re going to work on assembling the puzzle. And as such, the class will be a bit more interactive than usual. Master Brock, if you’ll join us on the platforms as previously discussed.”

  The boss had such an easy smile when he wasn’t brooding and trying to look like a hard ass, and she’d never been more thankful. He made her feel at home in this place of leather and domination, almost as much as Sir did.

  As Brock approached, though, she couldn’t help but wonder if Vivian had signed off on this venture? The boss had made it very clear he didn’t share Viv. Did the rule go both ways?

  “Master Brock and I have already discussed the rules for the hands-on portion,” Carter said. “There will be no actual scenes performed between you and my sub. That rule’s paramount. No exceptions. You strike her or touch her in an intimate way, and you’re gone, both from the class and the club. Do I make myself clear?”

  A chorus of affirmative sounds echoed through those present.

  Sir continued, “The object is for each of you to elicit an emotional response from my sub and then to vocalize what you’re seeing. I’ll then give you feedback. Pointing out what you get right and what you may have missed.”

  Ewan spoke, “How exactly do we elicit an emotional response if we can’t touch her?”

  “I didn’t say you couldn’t touch her,” Carter answered. “You can’t strike her or touch any of the clothed parts of her body. Allow Master Brock to demonstrate.”

  The boss took his time picking out his instrument of choice, and Raven couldn’t help but notice, unlike previous classes, nothing on the table terrified her. No floggers or belt-adjacent objects like whips.

  Thank you, Sir.

  The boss fi
nally settled on a ball gag.

  Yikes. Maybe she’d spoken too soon about not being terrified.

  Brock returned to stand in front of her. His easy smile was gone, and the expression which replaced it was one she’d only ever seen him give a sub, a look of undivided attention laced with danger.

  Her breath jumped in and out of her lungs, faster and faster until she was well on the road to hyperventilation, but it wasn’t because of fear. Not exactly anyway. It was some weird cross between discomfort and arousal. She wasn’t scared of her boss, nor was she comfortable with the way he was making her feel.

  “She looks conflicted,” Brock said suddenly. “I can’t quite put my finger on why I think so. I just get the sense that part of her is turned on, but she doesn’t want to be.”

  “Very good.” Sir gave her ass a good, solid slap. “If I had to guess, seeing a strong Dom triggered her desire, but since it wasn’t her Dom, the feelings made her uncomfortable. Am I wrong, pet?”

  Not even a little bit, but admitting it aloud proved to be a bit difficult. Carter had said her Dom. Not the first time tonight. Did this mean he saw himself as hers, too? Did the possession go both ways?

  She thought of herself as his sub, so the idea he saw himself specifically as her Dom did some mighty powerful things to her insides. And not just in a sexual way.

  “No, Sir,” she finally said. “You’re not wrong.”

  Smiling, he gave her ass another slap before calling another Dom onto the platform.

  The rest of the class continued in a similar fashion, hashing and rehashing the same song and dance. Either arousal and discomfort or fear and absolutely no arousal, depending on the Dom. Most of the newer Doms produced only fear, but the experienced ones were a different story. It was as if they’d each taken the same class on how to look at a sub for maximum arousal production. The exception to the rule, however, happened when Steel stepped onto the platform.

  The enormous Dom had sat back on the fringe of the class, waiting on the edges of her awareness like a predator studying his prey. His brother hovered not too far away, and she was struck again by how different they were, from stature and size to the way each made her feel. A strange arousal versus something akin to downright panic.

  She swallowed hard. Master Steel was a Restrained Fantasy member in good standing, so she knew what kind of Dom he must be. Neither Master Brock or Master Stephen would have allowed him to stay otherwise; they took safe, sane, and consensual very seriously. Not that the knowledge did a damn thing to curb her mounting anxiety.

  Master Steel was closing in on her, and she couldn’t do a damn thing to stop him.

  Carter stepped closer to his sub, so she’d be able to see him out of her peripheral vision. The terror tightening her body drew him in as surely as the moon drew the ocean waves. If Master Steel wasn’t picking up on such an obvious, full-bodied tell, then Carter had been a piss-poor teacher, but judging by the smallest hint of a smile on the other Dom’s lips, he did—and fucking liked it.

  Carter flexed his fingers at his side. He knew Steel. The man was a hard ass Dom, about as hard as they came, but Carter also knew he’d never hurt Genny—unless, of course, she asked him to. Still, seeing her terrified made him want to put an end to the interplay right fucking now.

  She’s not used her safeword; she’s still got her safeword.

  He repeated the phrase over and over as Steel stopped in front of Genny, bent low, and whispered something in her ear. Carter zeroed in on her face, ready to act if the first hint of her safeword was on her lips, but then, the most perplexing thing happened.

  She laughed.

  What the…?

  But before he had a chance to verbally question anything, Steel spoke, “She’d gone completely tense, all except for her fingers and toes. They were squirming as if priming her system to fight or flee. They all screamed fear.”

  “Very good,” Carter said. “And you obviously said something to ease her fear. Would you like to share it with the class?”

  “Not really,” Steel said with a grin as he winked at Genny. “That’s between her and me. Isn’t that right, pet?”

  Carter bristled. Steel didn’t get to call her pet. Only he did.

  “Yes, Master Steel,” Genny said, amusement dancing in her voice. “Just between us.”

  That’s what they think.

  But for now, Carter would drop it, but if Genny thought for one second he wouldn’t get the truth out of her, she had another thing coming.

  Without another word, Steel rejoined his brother on the opposite side of the room, leaving Genny smiling.

  Something dark tickled the back of Carter’s mind. Genny was his sub, and he needed to remind her of that. Stepping into her and burying his fingers in her hair, he forced her head back and took her lips in a hard, brutal kiss. Civility didn’t enter the equation, only possession. He wanted to remind her, without a doubt, she was his, and he was hers.

  When he pulled back, her eyes were glassy, and her breath sounded in labored gasps. His pet.

  “You’re mine,” he said for her ears only. “Mine. No one else’s.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her voice was breathy and thick with arousal.

  “Say the words, pet. Say them. I need to hear them.”

  “I’m yours, Sir. No one else’s.” Her eyelids fluttered in the way they did when her desire was overriding her higher brain functions. “No one else’s.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  “Never, Sir.”

  Carter turned back to his class and ran through a recap of the course. He planned to talk to Brock about adding a bonus class to the next session, which would include the new Doms bringing a sub of their own to class. Everyone would then get to perform an actual scene, and Carter would walk around, giving pointers and whatnot. It would also give him additional time to see the Doms in action, and he could further pinpoint any with abusive tendencies.

  When the last patron had left, Carter locked the door and turned on the ‘do not disturb’ sign, leaving him alone with his captive audience of one. He had a fun night planned for her, but before things picked up, he needed an answer to the question nagging at him.

  He pinned her with the gaze he used during interrogations, to make suspects feel like they were under a microscope. “What did Steel say to make you laugh?”

  “Nothing sexy, if that’s what you’re worried about, Sir?”

  Staying perfectly silent, he crossed his arms and waited. He’d give her thirty seconds to tell him the truth—then came the ultimatum. There were consequences when a sub didn’t answer her Dom.

  She stared right back at him.

  Fifteen seconds.

  If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was enjoying their little game.

  Ten seconds.

  She didn’t defy him, per se, it was almost as if she were trying to figure out her limits. Was she using what he’d taught in class to read him as he read her? If so, things might be about to get fun.

  Three.

  Two.

  One—

  “Fine,” she said, caving. “He said, and I’m paraphrasing, ‘I’m an asshole, but I’d never do anything to another Dom’s sub he or she didn’t want me to. And given the fact your Dom looks like he’s on the verge of ripping my balls off, I’m gonna hedge my bet and back off, sooner rather than later.’”

  “Which was a safe bet on his part because I would have ripped his balls off if he’d have hurt you.”

  “And that’s what I kept telling myself, but he’s so…” Letting out a stuttering breath, she shook her head. “Like I said. He gets in my head, and I get defensive so fast.”

  “Steel does that. He’s an asshole, but—and I’ll deny ever saying this—I think it’s all an act for the club. He’s the bad Dom to his brother’s good Dom.”

  “Seriously?”

  He shrugged. “At the very least, it seems to draw a certain type of sub, one who’s a bit more… extreme.”

 
; “No wonder he gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

  He crossed the room and came to rest a step from his sub. “Let’s see what we can do to purge him from your thoughts for a while.”

  “Have anything specific in mind, Sir?”

  He nodded. “I was thinking about trying something a little different tonight. I’m going to let you pick out the toy or the game we play. Whatever you want, we’ll do.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Why do I feel like there’s a catch, Sir?”

  “Because there is.” Grinning, he removed the gift he’d had concealed in his back pocket all evening and held it out for her inspection.

  “A blindfold?”

  He nodded. “You pick the game, the toy… whatever, but then, in return, I take away one of your senses while we play.”

  “That sounds fun, Sir, but…” There went her lip disappearing between her teeth again.

  “What is it, pet? You suddenly became uncomfortable.”

  “I am but not because of the game. Or you really. It’s just—” She drew in a long, shuddering breath. “Please give me a second, Sir. I’m trying to find the courage.”

  He kissed her thoroughly, a sure-fire way to incinerate her mounting unease. He slid his tongue over hers as he pushed his fingertips into her hair, along her sides, over the swell of her ass and her outer and inner thighs. He touched her everywhere he could without giving up their kiss—anywhere, of course, except where he knew she’d want him to touch her.

  He avoided that area, wanting to make her breathless and blind with need. Getting her out of her own head was what she needed to fight the discomfort he’d seen settling over her. He wanted her to become so desperate for him, the St. Andrew’s Cross would be the only thing keeping her from melting into a puddle at his feet, and then, he doubted she’d lack the courage to ask for anything.

  In a quick movement he calculated would leave her wanting, he stepped backward. “Talk to me, pet.”

  “It’s about the toy I want you to use.”

  “Oh.” He went to the table and tiptoed his fingers over the toys he had laid out. “Pick your poison, sweet pet. Whatever you want. I meant that.” He grabbed the riding crop when he reached it. “What about this? I know how much you enjoyed it the last time I used it on you.”