Dom Wars: Round Three

by Lucian Bane

  Dom Wars

  Round Three

  by Lucian Bane

  © 2014 by Lucian Bane

  All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Lucian Bane or his legal representative.

  Dedicated To:

  The real men and women of the world. Who put their asses on the line every day and in many ways for those they love. Those who work hard for their families. None of them are perfect in any way, but they are there, and they’re willing to do what it takes.

  Special Acknowledgment to:

  Snarky Bloggers. The name may be snarky but the ladies running that place are darlings. Heather Renee Marie Josephine and Amy Kindlelover. Thank you for all that you have done and continue to do. I look forward to an amazing tour for this series. Readers, look for their link at the end of the book and go to their page and LIKE them. Please. For me. Thank you.

  Caroline Baker. Can you please slow down with your awesomeness? Having a hard time keeping up, lol. Truly, thank you for all that you do for me and this Dom Wars mission. Lately, you’re my hero. Not just in business but in life. I’m so proud of you. You inspire me, give me hope, that it’s never too late, it’s never too bad, and that love always conquers all. Thank you for that. Thank you for being my soul twin separated at birth, five years younger. ;)

  Dana Desire. You need give me the recipe to that coffee you drink. Or maybe you’re drinking Michelle Eslicks brew of Crakalacka…or some crazy shit. Thank you so much for all you do. You always go above and beyond, I see it. I appreciate it. And while we’re on amazing and coffee, I’d like to thank Michelle Eslick and Tracey Shilling for that Goodreads brouhaha they run. I promise to return to that domain and make you ladies proud yet. Thank you for your help and patience.

  Jan Kinder. Thank you for being that faithful shadow. You’re never intrusive, you’re just there as a compliment to what I am trying to be. You don’t know just how important that is. I should tell you more. Thank your husband as well for tolerating me stealing your time, lol.

  And a final and special thanks to The Dom Warriors. The Elite Pimptresses. You ladies…we have fun plans for you. Get ready. Thank you for helping make yet another Dom Wars round successful.

  Chapter One

  I was torn between staring at the profile of Tara's tits and what was going on outside the luxurious limo where we waited to get the third round of the competition under way. Her t-shirt showed the downward slope of her small breasts and delicious fucking puckered nipples. God, it sucked the coherence and intelligence right from my brain. Did she not have a bra on? Fucking killing me. Yes, sucking, that's what the exquisite peaks needed right in that second.

  "Don't you care?"

  I reluctantly tore my gaze from her breasts and met hers as she gestured an annoyed hand toward Danielle and the driver…Steve? talking outside the car.

  I sighed and closed my eyes. "I'm afraid I can't hear a thing past your tits." At the moment, I didn't give a damn about DOM Wars, but Tara's constant fixation on building points and advancing to the next round was in full swing and frustrated me to no end.

  She let out an annoyed grunt and opened her door a crack.

  Danielle's whiney voice hit me and officially ruined my mood. "I'm waiting to see if the company will let me chaperone. They have to have a chaperone."

  Tara drew a sharp breath. "Oh. My. God. No!"

  No surprise there. Tara despised the moderator for the competition and the way she made no secret of her attraction to me. Breath-taking in her anger, Tara shoved the door open and stood, slicing her hand over her throat while shaking her head at Steve like he could help. Highly doubtful.

  Steve caught the gesture and gave a brief puzzled frown before snapping his entire attention back to the adamantly pissed Danielle.

  God, the idea of having Danielle around all the time made my skin crawl. Always on the prowl for her next conquest and vulgar in her insatiability, she reminded me of a predatory reptile. I wanted nothing more than to stay out of her cold-blooded clutches.

  "I understand, Ms. Ontello, I really do." Steve gave a moment's glance at Tara's frantic neck sawing before turning an ever so gentle smile on Danielle. "You did see in my resume that I've chaperoned the President's children?"

  Danielle paused in mid-rant and stared at him as if she'd never seen him before. Slightly chubby and unassuming, no doubt he didn't even register as male on her radar. And now, really seeing him, her expression turned wary, as if he posed a threat to her position.

  He gave a reverent nod. "For a high school dance. I did." His silky voice flowed much like his mannerisms. "And I can assure you Ms. Ontello, I am fully capable of both driving," he slid his palm toward us, "and chaperoning." He drew his hand back with a practiced grace. "Of course, for no extra pay." That little bonus came as he placed his hands behind his back in an enduring stance.

  I pulled Tara back in the car. "You might want to let the man work."

  She reluctantly sat back in the car but kept her gaze riveted out the window. "Look at her. I swear if she comes with us I am done."

  I raised my brows. "You'd throw away a million dollars over her?" A little thrill shot through me. Tara's resentment of Danielle came, at least in part, from her jealousy.

  Her sudden hard, undivided attention tightened my stomach with instant need. I'd not touched her since we'd been ordered apart two days ago to deal with personal business before beginning this round. I assumed she'd gone to see her grandmother. I, on the other hand, went to my apartment and stared at the ceiling, missing her. I was so fucking far gone over her. At the start of those two days without her, I was at the point of holding on for dear life while she figured her shit out. But at the end of those two days I was ready to dominate. Dominate whatever it took to make her mine. I smiled at her. "So, did you miss me?"

  She gave a snort and broke eye contact. "I missed my Gramma. I told you that's where I was going."

  "How is she?"

  Tara gave me a flick of her hazel gaze and nodded a little. "Much…much better. Her speech is…" she looked up at the ceiling, "won't ever quite be the same again." She shot a glance and smile at me. "But her sense of humor is fully intact."

  The need to hold her became unbearable. I reached for her hand, just to feel her again but she moved it into her lap. Jesus, two days apart and there was a five mile high wall up.

  It didn't matter. I was the Big Bad Wolf. And I would blow her little house down.

  She studied me from under thick lashes. "What about you? Did you… have to see about anybody?" The words betrayed a hint of vulnerability.

  I smiled, glad she wanted details. "No."

  "Not one? Person?" She finally looked straight at me, her rigid mask in place, concealing her thoughts.

  I licked my lips slowly, cracking her façade straight down the center. Her lips parted and her gaze followed my tongue. The victory made me smile. "Not one. Person. Love."

  She pffted and went back to pretending to gaze at the scenery where nothing but the stone side of the DOM Wars mansion blocked any view. "Kind of hard to believe."

  "I told you I don't have any subs."

  She swiveled her glare to me. "I didn't even mentions subs."

  "You didn't have to, love."

  More pffts.

  "I missed that sound you make."

  "Missed," she muttered. "It's barely been two days."

  "Felt like two years."

  She rubbed her palms on her now bouncing legs and looked out the window once more. "Oh God, he's coming, he's coming. And she is leaving. Yes! Fucking skank!"

  I bit my lower l
ip and grinned as the driver got in the car and Tara shot forward with a near-shout. "What's going on?"

  "I think you'll be happy to know that she will not be accompanying us on this… journey." Steve's blue eyes twinkled with triumph, though, as usual, his pleasant expression gave nothing away.

  Tara threw herself back into the seat with a huge sigh. "There is a God!"

  The driver turned as best he could in his seat. "That there is." He handed Tara a phone. "This one is yours." He handed one to me. "And this one is yours." He held up a third. "This one is mine." Perfect brows raised in what appeared to be cluelessness. "And this is…" he dug in his jacket pocket and handed an envelope to Tara, "the mission directive."

  Tara snatched it out of his hand and stared at it for a few seconds. She handed it to me. "You read it."

  I took it and she sat back and looked out the window, biting her thumb nail.

  "To yourself," she added quickly. "First."

  I opened the letter and read through the contents, my stomach churning as I did. Three specific directives. Five days to do it. They all seemed so simple but the last one stabbed me with dread. The mystery directive. Great.

  "Well?" Tara looked at me with expectancy.

  "You ready to hear?"

  She nodded, like that should be obvious. Fucking little brat. The urge to take the paper and fold it into a jet, then launch it through the window had my fingers tense. Then my gaze rested on that final item on the demon domination list and the potential damage it could do to her.

  "You have five days to go through three specific directives."

  "Which are?" she cut in.

  I threw the paper at her. "You read it, brat."

  She yanked it from me, mumbling about my inability to get to the point. "Ugh. Really? I have to see him?" She mumbled through words and choked on a laugh. "Oh my God, you're kidding."

  "What, love?"

  "Mystery? Really?" She nodded at the paper for several moments then gave a nonchalant shrug. "Doesn't matter, whatever it is. It's all been dealt with. I made sure of that." The last she said with severity while aiming a finger at me. Like I thought otherwise.

  She let out a weird laugh then scratched her nose while mumble-reading the letter again. "Ha!" She held the letter toward me a little then jerked it back. "They even have the exact locations to go. Exact hotels to sleep in. Clothes to wear." She mumbled on. "No food lists and panty colors? No BDSM requirements?" She flipped the paper over just as our phones let out matching chirps.

  I chewed my lower lip to keep from smiling at the message on my phone. All of your BDSM assignments will be given via random texts. You will have three minutes to comply, fifteen to achieve, unless otherwise stated.

  "What does yours say?" she asked.

  I turned my phone to her and watched her.

  "God dammit."

  Fuck, seriously? "Are you really that upset?"

  She sighed and looked at me, seeming to finally consider my feelings. "Not about that."

  "Then what?"

  "Just…" she shrugged her shoulders for several seconds. "Don't… like being texted… that… sort of stuff."

  "What… this is old school for you?"

  "No! It's stupid school. You don't text BDSM crap to people!"

  "Yes." I nodded a little. "I can see how it goes against BDSM's quality standards."

  "It's stupid. Like this whole competition. Dom Wars? Dom Wars?" Like the absurdity blared in just the name. "Don't tell me you put stock into a bit of it."

  "You not getting it, doesn't make it stupid."

  "Before we have our first… technical difficulty…" Steve turned in his seat, wiggling his phone at us. "Seems I'll also be getting certain instructions via texts. The first one being to let you both know the car is wired…" he pointed his eyeballs at various areas of the car, "with sound and cameras. As will be all of the hotel rooms you'll be staying in."

  My phone chirped and I looked at it. "Oh. Seems I'm getting a text." I stared at the words on the screen, fighting to hide the instant insanity they caused in me.

  "What does it say?" Tara asked.

  I looked around at the windows then at Steve. His eyes widened in his chubby face and he swung around in his seat.

  "I'll get this house on wheels on the road." A solid privacy panel slowly slid up between us and him.

  "What does it say?" Tara snatched my phone and I waited in the silent seconds while my guts tied in knots. Fuck, if she fought me in any way, it'd be disastrous. Because I was fed up with her. In her presence for less than an hour and I was ready to walk. Walk and never stop.

  "Well. Isn't that perfect," she muttered.

  "We can quit, fine by me."

  "Oh? Tired of me already?"

  "Tired of your mouth mostly."

  "Ahhh, is that right?"

  "Yes, very." I glared at her. "So are you staying or going?"

  "Are you staying?"

  "I asked you first."

  "I'm definitely staying. I didn't come all this way to quit."

  "Of course you didn't. You're a Domme, Dommes don't quit."

  "That's right." She leaned forward and pulled at her t-shirt from the back. "No quitting for me." She fought the material over her head and threw the shirt on the floor, then leaned back on the seat and undid her jeans. Anarchy erupted in my body at the sight of her breasts, naked as I'd assumed. I fought to hold onto my anger and not let her tear me down. But the sight of her nipples crippled me. Suck me, lick me, adore me, worship me. So un-fucking-fair.

  Needing to level the field, I yanked my shirt off. She shot her hand out when I went for the buttons on my jeans. "Fingers! You are only to use your fingers it said."

  My heart thundered at the unintended compliment. Her seeing me did made her weak. I knew that, but she had a way of making me need to validate my instincts. "Okay, fine." A silly bubbly feeling tickled in my blood at the knowledge that I had any kind of effect on her.

  "Shirt back on."

  I grinned like an adolescent at how she avoided looking at me. "Why?"

  "Just put. It. On."

  "Okay," I said lightly, getting the black t-shirt back on. She removed the rest of her clothes and I sat still, gathering my strength for war. When she was done, I hit her with a slow burning gaze, ready to have all those parts she hid from me. Legs crossed, arms covering her breasts. "Come here."

  She seemed to struggle in her mind with that.

  "It said you have to play the sub, sweetheart."

  She angrily scooted over until she was a foot away. She held my gaze and it fucking set me on fire. Challenge. Always challenging me. Daring me. That was as good as begging.

  "Sit back." I would take this oh so fucking slow. Steve had begun driving, so, the show was on the road.

  She slammed her back into the seat then opened her legs, eyes on ceiling.

  I looked at her. All of her. She hadn't shaved but the hair was still short. Dominance flooded me hard, seeing it as another challenge, another little something that said no to me. I roamed my gaze up her body and the sight of her breasts made my muscles tremble with the need to take what she attempted to deny me. All that lay beneath.

  Finally raising my gaze to her face, I paused. Her obvious fear brought everything to a halt and I studied it for a moment, desperate to understand it. She didn't fear me. She feared what I made her feel.

  I leaned in.

  "Fingers!"

  I paused at her gasped plea, hardening my jaw. No kissing? I fucking needed to after two endless days of not seeing her.

  I raised my hand before her and slowly lowered all but my middle finger in a fuck you gesture. "This one?"

  She lowered her eyes to it. "Seems appropriate." She returned to ogling the car ceiling, trying to appear aloof.

  "Yes, I agree." I settled that finger gently on her temple, slowly making my way to her mouth. When I reached her lips, she clamped them tightly together. Undeterred, I bypassed them, gliding my finger over her ch
in and down her neck. "You know where I'm going, love?"

  She kept her eyes on the ceiling, not answering.

  I drew circles on her breast, slowly closing in for her nipple. "Yes, you do. I want so badly to taste them." I slowed my circling to a crawl at the tight skin of her areola. "They missed me."

  She swallowed hard and it drove me to hear it in her voice, what my touch did to her. She was hiding it.

  I let the side of my finger brush against the erect nipple, my gaze torn between her face and what I was doing. "I cannot wait to see you orgasm on my finger."

  She closed her eyes tight at that.

  "Open your legs wider."

  Her entire body strained against my teasing assault and she jerked her legs wide open, keeping her eyes shut tight.

  "Why do you resist it? I don't really get that about you." I slid the pad of my finger over the very top of her nipple with excruciatingly slow strokes. "You want it so badly." I tormented her for several seconds then snaked the tip of my finger to the other nipple and did the same.

  Her body twitched as she fought the pleasure, grunting in strain, hands in tight fists on the seat next to her.

  "Your body is betraying you, love. Speaking to me. Do you know what it's saying?" I didn't wait for an answer as I meandered my way down her tense torso and further to stroke along her thigh, stopping at her knee before heading back up. "It's saying I missed you, Lucian. I need you." I glided my finger over one full lip, then the other, moving my face closer to hers, hungry for her torment. I slid my touch to her ass for a feather soft stroke. "It's begging…" I slipped my finger up and touched the wet silk next. "…pleading…" then drew delicate circles on her clit. "Demanding…" Her breaths sharpened, bringing my own hiss of need. "….make me Lucian. Make me need it. Want it." I moved my finger down to her entrance, locking my gaze on her face. I plunged inside her, groaning harshly at the way she cried out.

  It was the sound of surrender, but shame turned her face away from me. Again my jaw hardened with the need to crush it.