Who knew when some skinny fifteen-year-old might go berserk and lay a hand on his mistress, right?
“If you are not in a hurry, please, join me for a beer before you leave.” Raoul motioned to a seat across the table. “I’d like to talk to you.”
Some problem with the boys? The drive could wait a bit. “Sure.” As Ben sat, Kim appeared with a towel.
“Thanks, Kim.” When Ben whistled, Bronx trotted over to get wiped down.
Kim turned to Raoul. “Drinks, Master?”
“That would be good, gatita, thank you. Dos Equis, I think, for Ben.” He leaned back in his chair and studied her. “Wine for you, if you wish. I think you have more than earned it today.”
Under her Dom’s appreciative smile, Kim flushed a pretty red and simply glowed.
His voice lowered, and he murmured something to her.
Feeling as if he were intruding, Ben concentrated on de-sanding his dog, then waved him under the table to join Ari for a nap.
As Bronx flattened out with a soft sigh, Kim returned from the house with a tray. She handed an opened Stump Knocker to Raoul, a Dos Equis to Ben, and took the glass of red wine for herself.
“I sampled your Brooklyn Lager at the Shadowlands,” Raoul said. “Dos Equis is as close to it as I have on hand.”
“Good choice.” Fuck knew he didn’t want Raoul’s favorite beer—the stuff was so malty it was almost black. He raised his bottle to both his hosts. “Thanks.”
Nodding in reply, Kim picked up a chair cushion, placed it on the ground, and with her drink in hand, gracefully settled at her Master’s feet.
As a slave would.
Ben frowned. Was that behavior what Anne expected of him? Even with guests present? If that was what she wanted, he’d do his best…but the idea made his skin crawl.
“This way you look…” Raoul drank some of his beer and set the bottle on the table. “This is what I wish to speak of.”
“You don’t like the way I look?” What the fuck? Helping with the boys required good looks?
“No, no. You are frowning because my sumisita is here. At my feet.” When Raoul laid his hand on her shoulder, Kim rubbed her cheek against his wrist.
Ben straightened as the Dom’s intention became clear. Anne would be the topic of discussion. How could he politely refuse? “Listen—”
“My friend, I do not usually interfere in business not my own, but you are new to the lifestyle. I am…concerned…you might be in over your head. As I am familiar with Master/slave relationships, perhaps I can answer some questions?”
Was every Shadowlands Master going to butt into his affairs?
Ben took a drink, stalling for time. Because, maybe, Raoul had a point.
Over the last few days, Anne had kept him close. Because he’d…lied…to her, she was worried about him. He couldn’t object. Hell, even more than the sex, he got off on their long talks. She’d served as a Marine. Been deployed. She got what he was talking about.
Trouble was, she was his Mistress. He was her slave. And that…power exchange…never let up.
He was starting to wonder if he really could do that shit. Forever.
But some people could. He put his beer on the table and studied Kim.
She’d set the wine beside her and was still. As calm and peaceful as a person deep in meditation, yet she held herself ready for whatever Raoul wanted her to do.
She was a slave.
Was Ben willing to go as far as she had? His gut was saying no. “She do that all the time?” Ben nodded at Kim.
“Actually, no.” Raoul stroked her hair. “And yes. She enjoys the calmness of high protocol after events. And I wanted you to observe formal Master/slave dynamics in a home setting.”
“But normally you don’t do this…stuff. Sitting at your feet and not talking?” Anne got off on the formal protocol shit though.
“Kimberly is always under my command, Ben,” Raoul said gently. “At home, the rules are loosened for comfort, so she is free to speak, to sit, to dress as she wishes…unless I wish otherwise. I often wish otherwise. This is because, as with electricity, when the power between two poles is not equal, a sizzle is created.”
A sizzle, huh? Well, he and Anne enjoyed an excellent sizzle in the bedroom. But elsewhere?
Kim sat with her eyes closed, and as her Master petted her like a cat, her contentment was obvious.
Ben wasn’t sure he’d be as damned content.
Drifting, Kim tilted her head under her Master’s touch, feeling like the gatita—little kitten—that Master R often called her.
His big hands were powerful. Deadly. And ever so gentle with her.
His callused fingers trailed over her cheek and down to tug her collar slightly, letting her know she could rest against him.
She counted on that. Her Master was her anchor. Whether the ocean was peaceful or stormy, he was there for her. Although he’d reluctantly taken her as a slave to help bring down a human trafficking ring, neither of them had been willing to separate afterward. Master/slave was what worked for them both.
But now…now she was making him unhappy because he wanted to marry her.
Considering she was his slave, marrying him should be a no-brainer, right? But after a childhood of watching her mother suffer within matrimonial bonds, marriage looked too much like a trap. Being a wife was far scarier than being a slave.
But with Raoul, she was learning she could handle scary.
Sometime last month, he’d bought her a ring—a gorgeous, heart-stopping ring that she’d discovered by accident. Obviously not wanting to pressure her, he’d tucked it away in his dresser drawer. He was patiently waiting until she was ready.
No one had ever known her and loved her as well as her Master.
She shifted to lean against his leg, letting him take some of her weight as the men talked.
Ben sounded unhappy.
The Shadowlands’ security guard had scared her the first time she’d seen him. She’d thought he resembled some medieval torturer. But he’d been so pleased that Master R had found himself a woman that she couldn’t remain afraid. Ben had a big heart.
And, according to the gossip making the rounds, he was Anne’s new slave.
Raoul had been a Master for years, was a power within the local Master/slave community, and he’d watched Ben’s relationship with obvious worry.
Poor Ben didn’t look comfortable at the topic of discussion—but that wouldn’t stop her determined Master.
“My first concern is that Anne is a sadist, but I do not think you are a masochist,” Master R said.
“I’m not. But, you know, she’s not as sadistic as you think.” Ben drank more of his beer. “She told me she didn’t need the hard-core shit any longer. I think, maybe, she was working out her anger toward men. And everyone says her slaves were masochists—and more than willing.”
Kim glanced up under her lashes.
“Has she changed?” Raoul thought for a minute. “You are right, I think. Her scenes truly have lightened over the last year.”
Ben nodded.
“As to working out her anger? As a sadist, Anne never stepped over the line. And she wouldn’t be the first or last Dom to find relief from life’s frustrations in a scene.” Master R tugged Kim’s hair. “Submissives do the same. A good spanking serves as an excellent overflow valve.”
Kim suppressed a laugh. She certainly couldn’t disagree. Her Master somehow knew just when she needed that kind of release.
Ben’s gaze was on her, she realized, but he apparently wasn’t sure if he was allowed to talk with her.
She glanced up at her Master and got a nod. “What do you want to know, Ben?” she asked.
“Do you like it? Being a…slave?”
She no longer flinched at the sound of the word, although Master R still called her sumisita—Spanish for little slave. “I like what Master R and I have together, but slavery means different things to different people. Everyone arranges matters to suit themselves. Maste
r R doesn’t want my money; other Doms might want more control. I retain an hour every night that is all mine for girly pampering or just reading a book, and it keeps me from feeling trapped. Other slaves might not need that.” Because others might not have been kidnapped and brutalized and truly enslaved.
Ben leaned forward, forearms on thighs as he listened.
“Sometimes I resent my service and having to answer to his every whim.”
When she grinned up at Master R, the warmth in his dark chocolate eyes still possessed the power to make her melt.
“But the annoyance of being at his beck and call is equivalent to having to get up in the morning for a job or having to take a vitamin—just another of life’s little chores you do to get to the good stuff. Because serving him”—she felt her throat clog—“having his hands cupped around my life and being able to tend his needs and desires in turn simply…fills…me. I would be a dry ocean bed without him.”
Master R’s fingers tightened on her shoulder. His voice was low. Deep. “Tesoro mío.”
Her eyes closed as she drew in the happiness. Because to serve a Master who considered her his treasure was all her joy.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Ben had seen and heard and understood.
And his eyes held grief. “I don’t feel that way. Not…”
Master R said, “Each relationship is different, Ben. Not every submissive wants to give up as much power as Kimberly. Not every Master or Mistress wants to bear such responsibility for another adult. There is no one true way—you have to talk until you find what will satisfy you both.”
“Yeah,” Ben muttered. “That’s not as easy as it sounds.”
After staring at his beer for a minute, he finished it off and rose, snapping his fingers for Bronx. “I need to get moving before I lose the light. Thanks for the beer—and the information.”
Master R walked him to the door, and Kim heard them saying good-bye, then footsteps returning.
Her Master took his chair again.
Although she kept her eyes down, she could feel his gaze on her, like the warmth of the sun, penetrating through skin and bone.
“Sumisita, I want you without clothes right now.” With the command, his Spanish-tinged baritone had taken on an added smoothness. One that sent shivers across her skin.
She rose and slowly…provocatively…removed her clothing. When she unhooked her bra, she arched her back to push her breasts out. As her shorts slid off, she tilted a hip to enhance her curves. When she was finished, only her sapphire-studded choker remained, and she touched the tiny heart-shaped padlock on it. He held the key to her collar even as he held the key to her heart.
Following her movements, his eyes lingered on her collar and darkened to almost black. When he pulled her between his parted legs, his jeans rubbed against her bare thighs. The feeling of being naked in front of a fully dressed man made the inequality between them so much more potent.
And as he’d said—added to the sizzle.
She stood, everything she was open and receptive and glorying in the truth that she was his…to tease. To touch. To take.
His gaze moved over her in appreciation and pleasure. Leaning forward, he curved his hands over her bottom, squeezing, separating, stroking, before moving to her hips, and upward. He cupped and weighed her breasts in his callused palms.
Need rolled up and over her, heating each breath she took of the sultry air.
“You did well with answering Ben.” His brows lowered. “I’m afraid of how this is going to end for him.”
“Why?” Kim’s toes curled as his thumbs circled her nipples. “Um. He loves her—that’s pretty plain.”
“Yes. But do you remember when we didn’t think we could be together? Because our needs weren’t in equilibrium?”
Just the memory of that miserable time made her spirits droop. “But we got past that.”
“Only because we did want essentially the same thing. And because we love each other.” He pulled her down into his lap, taking her mouth more possessively than normal, as if to drive away the memory of their days of loneliness.
Oh, she loved him so much. She snuggled closer, tangling her hand in his thick hair. Although some Masters didn’t let their slaves touch unless given permission, he never minded and rarely took that privilege away from her. He liked her hands on him.
He lifted his head, smiling down at her, palming her breast again, simply enjoying her body.
Poor Ben. If what he and Anne had built was similar to her relationship with Master R, then its loss would devastate him. Couldn’t Anne back off a bit? How could she not see how important she was to him? But women… Kim sighed. Women were obstinate when it came to guarding their hurts. Their hearts.
And maybe Kim should be studying her own life instead. Because, spit in the surf, how totally over-fearful was she being about getting married?
Raoul wasn’t anything like her father. Married or not, he’d never take her for granted. Never grind her down to serve his ego. She’d not only be loved, she’d be cherished.
Maybe it was time to rethink her own cowardly stance.
“I think Anne and Ben can work it out,” she said, turning her thoughts back to her friends.
“I see something of my marriage when I look at them. My ex-wife was not submissive. She wanted pain. I wanted a slave. Our needs were at cross-purposes, making us both unhappy.”
That was an understatement. From everything Kim’d heard, Raoul’s breakup with his wife had nearly destroyed him. Her compassionate Master wouldn’t want Ben to make a similar mistake.
He continued, “Anne’s slaves never live with her. When they’re with her, they’re slaves, not friends. I think Ben wants to be her lover and her companion, not merely her slave. What do you think, gatita?”
He stilled his hands, holding her waist, letting her have the space to think.
Ben’s dilemma was so close to what she’d gone through with Raoul. Her heart broke for him because she could relate to his pain. “Maybe they’re not swimming in the same current—not yet—but surely, they can get there if they try. He really cares for her.”
“I agree. But does Anne feel the same? Will she put in the effort?” Raoul kissed Kim’s fingertips. “The Mistress is a good person. As a Domme, she is strong and careful and responsible. But I’m not sure she possesses the heart of a lover to give to our friend.”
Kim bit her lip. She hated disagreeing with him, but he only saw Anne at the Shadowlands or the occasional party. He hadn’t seen her with Jessica’s baby or at the battered women’s shelter with the children. “I think she has more of a heart than you give her credit for.”
He smiled, his gaze soft. “I know who has more of a heart than her little body should hold. You are a generous friend, sumisita.”
He didn’t believe her.
She frowned. “You’ll let them work things out though, right?” Doms were notoriously protective, and if Raoul worried that Ben’d get hurt, he would step in.
“I will.” His white teeth flashed in his darkly tanned face. “I’d hate to have Ben smash my face into the pavement.”
“As if he could. I’ve seen you fight.”
“I’m good, but Ben was an Army Ranger, and he hasn’t lost those skills.”
Whoa. She hadn’t known that one. Go, Ben.
Then, smiling to herself, she wiggled her ass right on top of Master R’s solid erection. “In that case, you’d better behave. It would be a shame if some manly bits got squished.”
He choked, then tucked a finger under her collar to restrain her while he kissed her mercilessly.
Desire was a rising tide within her.
Lifting his head, he murmured, “Someone is being a naughty gatita, no?”
She was too breathless to answer.
“Perhaps I shall see to your needs now…in case I am incapacitated in the future.” Chuckling, he rose, tossed her over his shoulder, and administered a stinging swat to her bare bottom that set
every single nerve to blazing.
He was so strong, he didn’t seem to even notice her weight. He made her feel little.
And precious.
As she rubbed her cheek against his back, Kim ran a hand under his belt to squeeze his muscular ass—and earned herself another swat on her butt.
Oh, he was in the mood to spank her and she knew it, or she wouldn’t have teased him. In her turn, the anticipation of his incredibly hard palm on her naked skin was making her really, really hot. With no effort at all, he’d reduce her to a whimpering mess.
And then he’d pin her down or tie her up…and take her rough and fast.
She squirmed, wanting to be there now.
After that…
He’d murmur to her in Spanish, his voice like the rocking waves in the ocean, and she’d wrap around him, her anchor, her love, and float there in contentment.
But then…maybe then would be a good time to rummage through his dresser drawer and find the engagement ring he’d bought her.
Chapter Nineteen
Late Sunday afternoon, Anne followed the hostess through the Chinese restaurant in downtown St. Pete.
Ben’s call an hour before had come as a surprise, since he’d left for the Everglades yesterday after spending the day with Marcus’s boys. He hadn’t planned to be back until late tonight.
“My sisters and brother-in-law are here from New York. Camille got a special deal to come down for a long weekend and decided to surprise me. I came back early to take them to the Dali Museum, and now we’re going to get something to eat. If you’re off work, can you join us? Be nice to let them meet you.” His voice had dropped. “And I’ve missed you.”
She understood. She’d missed him last night, more than she found comfortable.
Happily, her skip assignment for today had turned out to be more absent-minded than criminal and had been an easy recovery. She was free to join them.
What was annoying was the amount of anxiety simmering inside her. Since when had she been worried about meeting anyone?
The Chinese restaurant smelled like garlic and ginger, and Anne’s stomach growled as she crossed the room. She’d skipped breakfast—eating early hadn’t appealed—and had a granola bar for lunch. Now, she was starving.
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