His Domain

by Ashe Barker, Katy Swann, Rosalie Stanton, Lucy Felthouse, Anarie Brady, Rose C. Carole

  Maddox frowned. “In what way?”

  I screwed up my face as I thought about it. “Well, he liked to do, typical idiotic things, I suppose. You know, get drunk and streak across the playing field at the uni, knock on people’s doors and run off. Really stupid things, but I suppose when you’re drunk, too, you think it’s funny. He was also very…intense in the bedroom.”

  I already knew I’d said too much, but the fact was underlined when Maddox suddenly sat bolt upright in the chair. Seemed I hadn’t had to ‘come up’ with something interesting—the simple truth had intrigued him, though admittedly I hadn’t set out to divulge this much. “Intense how?”

  Christ, why had I gone and said that? I couldn’t have just left it as him being my first, could I? Under Maddox’s scrutiny, though, I didn’t feel I could hold back—from the look on his face he was imagining terrible things, so it was better I put him in the picture. “It was, uh, pretty normal at first, I suppose. Or what I’d been led to believe normal was, anyway. It was good, don’t get me wrong—he was obviously way more experienced than I was. But after a while he started talking about trying new things. Smacking my bum a bit, tying me up, putting a blindfold on me. I dunno where he got his ideas from, maybe he’d read Fifty Shades of Grey or something. But I didn’t mind. Once I got used to it, realized it wasn’t about hurting me in a bad way, I actually really enjoyed it.”

  I stopped talking as I became aware that not only had I ‘actually really enjoyed it’, I was actually really enjoying talking about it. Maybe because I could see that Maddox had meant what he said—he didn’t judge. He wasn’t judging me. In fact, from the look on his face, now he knew that Sean hadn’t been abusing me or anything terrible like that, he seemed fascinated. Hooked, almost.

  My suspicions were confirmed when he said, “I can understand that. So what happened then?”

  “Do you mean with the kinky sex, or the thing that happened to get me in trouble with the police?”

  Maddox smirked. “Whatever you feel like telling me about, I will listen. Avidly.”

  “Huh. So that’s the kinky sex, then.”

  “If you say so.”

  His words were ambiguous, but his body language was telling me otherwise. His blue eyes glinted with interest, his pupils wide, and there was a wash of color over his previously pale cheeks. He was…he was turned on! I thought for a moment that I was disgusted, that he was a pervert, that I wanted to slap his face, get my things and run away as fast as my legs would carry me. But then I realized, if Maddox was a pervert for getting turned on by what I was saying, what the hell did that make me?

  Chapter Four

  I narrowed my eyes. “Why are you so interested in hearing about my kinky sex life? Or should I say past kinky sex life? I don’t have any sex life at all to speak of now.”

  “So you’re not still with him, then? Sean?”

  I snorted. “Are you kidding? After letting me take the blame for his stupidity and nearly wrecking my career before it had even begun? Not a chance. You haven’t answered my question, anyway.”

  He smirked. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Are you going to?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether you want me to be truthful or not.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course I want you to be truthful. Why on earth would I want to hold a conversation with someone who was telling me lies?”

  “Fair enough. But just remember—you asked for it.”

  “Noted. Now get on with it.”

  His smirk widened. “Yeah, I can see why people call you bossy. So, I’m assuming you weren’t bossy with Sean in the bedroom then. Kind of goes against being submissive.”

  “Submissive? What do you mean by that?” My palms grew clammy even as the words left my lips.

  “You know precisely what I mean. What else would you call it? But what I really want to know is if there is more to it. Whether, if he hadn’t fucked up his chance with you, you’d still be exploring that side of yourself. Whether the odd spanking, tying up and blindfolding would be enough.”

  “Enough?” I frowned. “Well, what else is there?”

  Maddox’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his shock of hair. “Seriously? Christ, did you really learn everything you know about BDSM from that idiot and Christian fucking Grey?”

  I dithered between embarrassment and indignation, unable to make up my mind whether I was going to admit he was right or defend my clearly nonexistent honor. In the end, I stayed quiet.

  Which, apparently, was answer enough for Maddox. He sighed. “Oh, sweetheart. You’ve barely dipped your toe in the pool. Barely dipped your toenail in the pool. Tell me, are you interested in finding out more? You said you enjoyed it…but which part? The pain of the spanking, the sensory deprivation, or the being at someone else’s mercy? Having them in total control of your pleasure—or lack of it?”

  By now, the dampness on my palms had spread across my entire body. Particularly between my legs, where I throbbed and ached to be filled. Fucking hell. Maddox was definitely a pervert. And so was I. What was more—I bloody well liked it!

  Remembering he’d asked me a question, I struggled to engage my brain. “Um…all of the above? It was all pretty hot.”

  His expression turned positively wicked, his eyes glinting with mischief and lips twisted into a smile. My heart rate picked up, and the throb between my legs increased. “Excellent. So, assuming I haven’t gotten the wrong end of the stick here, how would you like to see my playroom?”

  I resisted the temptation to parrot his last word. I knew, after all, precisely what he was talking about. Just because I was in shock that he had a playroom, and was inviting me to see it, didn’t give me the right to squeak at him every time he surprised me.

  There was something I needed clarified, though. “And by the wrong end of the stick you mean…?”

  “I mean, Penny, that I’m attracted to you, and hope that the feeling is mutual. I know I’m a little old for you, but I’m only offering to show you my playroom. If you decide a look around is enough, just to give yourself a bit of an education, then that’s fine. I mean, yeah, I’ll be disappointed, but I’d never force you into anything.”

  I’d known that even before he’d said it. The part about him not forcing me into anything, I mean. I hardly knew him, but for some reason, I trusted him. Maybe it was because—unconventional looks aside—he was nothing like Sean. Yes, he had a checkered past, but he’d turned it around and now helped out in a soup kitchen on a regular basis. How bad could a person be if they did something like that?

  “All right, then,” I replied, my voice somehow coming out sounding a lot more confident than I felt. “I would love to see your playroom. And, yes,” I added more quietly, fighting to maintain eye contact with him as I spoke, “the feeling is mutual.”

  He frowned. “So you don’t think I’m too old for you?”

  Shaking my head, I replied, “Age is just a number, and all that jazz. But no, not at all. Not like you’re old enough to be my granddad, is it? In fact, you’re not even old enough to be my dad, so you’re just being silly.”

  “Great.” He shoved his chair back and got up. “I’ll just wash up these mugs and we’ll go then, shall we?”

  “You want to go now?” So much for not squeaking at him.

  He grabbed both mugs, then headed for the sink. “No time like the present.”

  I watched in silence as he put some hot water in the sink, added a splash of washing up liquid, then set to work. He was right, of course. It was just I was still catching up with everything that had happened, how I’d gone from a reluctant volunteer in a soup kitchen to someone who’d been propositioned by a smoking-hot older man. An older man who had a fucking BDSM playroom, for Christ’s sake.

  But what was the alternative? Go home and turn the events of the day so far over and over in my mind? Hope no one else was in the house, so I could scurry to my room and masturbate
like there was no tomorrow?

  Put like that, it was a no-brainer, really.

  “Yeah, all right.”

  “Great,” he said, turning from the sink, where he’d left the mugs drying on a rack. “How did you get here?”

  “In my car.”

  “Okay. You parked out the back?”

  “Yes.”

  “Me, too. You wanna follow me to mine?”

  I got up from the table and fell into step beside him as he made for the door. “Okay.”

  “Don’t you need to let someone know where you’re going?”

  “I’m twenty-two, not fourteen.”

  “Well, thank fuck for that! I might be kinky, but I’m not into underage girls.”

  I glared at him. “Let’s just go, shall we?”

  * * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, we turned into a street in a nice part of town. Not quite as nice as the area I lived in, truth be told, but it was still pretty well-to-do. After a minute, Maddox indicated left and pulled onto a long driveway, which left plenty of room for me to park my car behind his. So I did.

  Once I’d switched off the engine—double-checking the handbrake was on—I took the opportunity to sneak a peek at his house. It was nice. Big, old-fashioned, but clearly well looked after. I guessed after everything he’d been through, Maddox wouldn’t be the sort of person to take his belongings or his property for granted. Not when he’d lived a life where he had nothing.

  I grabbed my bag, then got out of the car. Maddox was waiting for me next to the front door, which he’d already unlocked and opened. “Welcome to my humble abode.” He gave a mock bow.

  Shaking my head at his silliness, I crossed the threshold into the hallway. My footsteps clicked off the beautiful wooden flooring, and my eyeballs ached as I flicked them in multiple directions, trying to see everything at once. It was a really nice place, the interior well in keeping with the age of the building. Quite the opposite to the super-modern house I lived in. Not that it was a bad thing to live in a modern house, just that somehow, Maddox’s had more character.

  And, I reminded myself, a playroom. A playroom I would be seeing in the very near future. I wondered where it was. In the cellar? The attic? Or just behind a regular door off the upstairs landing?

  “Let me take your things,” Maddox said, stepping up beside me. I handed my bag and jacket over, then waited as he stored them in a cupboard beneath the stairs. “Can I get you a drink?”

  I shook my head. “I’m all right, thanks.”

  “Okay. I suppose it was a silly question, really, given we both just had tea. I’m a little nervous.”

  An unladylike sound escaped from my lips. I clapped my hand over my mouth for a second, then removed it with a small smile. “Sorry. Just the thought of you being nervous amused me. This was your idea, after all.”

  “I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t be nervous, though. It’s not every day I invite a woman to see my playroom. Much less a woman I’ve known only for a few hours. Part of me is worried you’ll run away screaming, or phone the police.”

  “I can’t promise the former, but you needn’t worry about the latter. I may be inexperienced, but I know damn well you’re not doing anything illegal.”

  Giving me a quizzical look, he said, “Well, that’s reassuring…I think. So, since we’ve partaken of all the social niceties, shall we get to it, then?”

  Chapter Five

  Maddox led me up the stairs, then to a door at the end of the corridor. He paused outside it, then turned to me with a serious expression. “You’re sure about this?”

  Without hesitation, I nodded. “Yes. I’ve got the option to just have a look, right?”

  “Of course.” His expression softened. “Though I can’t help hoping you’ll want more.”

  “Guess we’ll see…” No way was I going to commit to anything—not until I’d seen what was in his red room of pain, how he acted when we were in there. Whether I trusted him, felt safe. Sean might have been an amateur compared to Maddox, but that didn’t make me some kind of easily led idiot. I knew my own mind, and would take whatever steps were necessary to keep myself safe and happy.

  “Ready?”

  I nodded again.

  Gripping the door handle, Maddox then twisted it and gave the door a little shove. It swung open, and I found myself holding my breath as the room was revealed to me. My heart pounded and my pulse throbbed in my ears. I took a step, over the threshold, improving my view, and yet, not filling in any blanks in my knowledge whatsoever.

  I drank in the sight from one wall to the other, then back again. Finally, I turned to Maddox with a frown. “But…?”

  His grin reached from ear to ear. “Not what you were expecting, eh?”

  As his question sank in, as well as what I’d seen in the room, I could have kicked myself. I should have known. I’d come to the conclusion that he was unusual, unconventional, from the moment I saw him. So why on earth was I so surprised to find his playroom was unconventional, too?

  “No.” I finally forced the word out past my lips, followed by some more. “Not really. Care to…explain? Give me a tour?”

  “With pleasure.” He took my hand in his warm grasp and led me over to the biggest item in the room. Far from the St. Andrew’s cross I’d been imagining, the brown leather gymnastics pommel horse sat happily in the center of the space, waiting to be utilized.

  I rubbed my free hand over its surface, then shot Maddox a questioning glance.

  “I’m glad I told you my backstory, Penny, because it’ll help to make sense of what I’m about to say.”

  I nodded, eager for him to continue.

  “As you know, there was a time in my life when I hit rock bottom, had nothing. During that time, I had to get creative. I had to make things last, repurpose them, find alternative uses for them… You get the idea. I got pretty good at it. And after a while, even when my fortunes changed and I could actually afford to buy new stuff, the habit stuck. I found I really enjoyed it, even got a buzz out of it. So when I decided to create this playroom, I decided to take the habit—probably more of a hobby now—one step further. Therefore, every item inside these four walls has an original, intended use which is nothing to do with BDSM. I haven’t purchased any of these items—with the exception of condoms and lube, naturally—from a sex shop or adult retailer. I’m also adding new things to the collection all the time, when my brain provides kinky inspiration.”

  I said the only thing that seemed appropriate. “Wow.”

  Maddox chuckled. “You don’t think I’m nuts?”

  “No more than I did already.” I grinned. “Seriously, though, I think it’s great. Utterly unique and immensely intriguing. I guess you’re a true creative soul, aren’t you? Inside of the kitchen and out, it seems.”

  He gave a shrug, being modest now, apparently. “I’m glad you like the idea. You’re only the second person to see this room, and the first just thought I was a cheapskate.”

  I raised my eyebrows. Only the second person? I cleared my throat. “Have you…er…how long has the room been finished?” I felt sad for him, that the first person to see the room had clearly not been impressed, but it did make sense of something for me. The way that although he was obviously a Dominant, he seemed a little…reticent, perhaps? He was comfortable in his own skin, in his preferences, but he’d been burned in the past and was worried about it happening again. I could identify with that. Not the same circumstances at all, of course, but I’d been hurt by someone I trusted, too.

  “Three years.”

  “And you haven’t…?”

  His lips curved up at the corners, but somehow his expression was still sad. It made my heart ache for him. “It hasn’t been christened, unfortunately.”

  “Wow.” The situation had severely limited my vocabulary, it seemed. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” I was, too. I wasn’t just being nice.

  I looked around. He really had done an incredible job with the room. The d�
�cor was great, all gray—though, I wouldn’t hold that against him—and black, with a thick, sumptuous carpet. The room had a very sexy and modern feel, and I found myself becoming quite eager to take a closer look at the items he’d filled it with. More than just a look, actually. My bum felt tingly at the prospect.

  “Thank you,” he said. “It’s a shame, but I’m hoping to change all that. If you’re willing. Though I reiterate, I have no interest in forcing you. Or rushing you into anything.”

  “Maddox,” I squeezed the hand that still grasped mine, pulled him closer, “you don’t need to tell me that. If I thought you were that kind of person, I wouldn’t be here. I feel I can trust you.”

  Looking down at me, he smiled. “Thank you. I’m glad. I want you to trust me.”

  Pinned as I was in his gaze, my heart skipped a beat, then raced, as if trying to make up for it. After a second, with absolutely no idea where I got the courage from, I stretched up onto my tiptoes, and kissed him. Just a fleeting brush of lips on lips, but a kiss, nonetheless.

  It wasn’t enough for me. And nor, apparently, for Maddox. Releasing my hand, he then grabbed me around the waist and pulled me so my body was flush against his. Leaning down, he captured my mouth in a full-on, proper kiss. Nothing fleeting or brushing about it. My hormones went into complete overdrive, and I felt as though my entire body was morphing into molten lava. I was in danger of ending up a puddle of goo at Maddox’s feet. Fortunately, it was just my overactive imagination, and I concentrated on kissing him back, wrapping my arms around his neck and deepening the kiss.

  Liquid heat filled me. My nipples peaked, and my pussy continued to soak the crotch of my knickers. I was deeply gratified to discover that, when Maddox grabbed my arse and pulled me harder into him, his cock was as stiff as my pussy was wet. We enjoyed the kiss for several more smoking-hot minutes, before Maddox pulled away. I blinked, noting that he looked as dazed as I felt.