by Lund, S. E.
"Kate, your drawings are very good, very technically skilled. I wonder why you're in my class? You should be taking a class through the university."
"The classes were full and I was late registering. I only started drawing and painting again recently so I'm pretty rusty and need practice. I'm happy to be in your class."
"I'm glad then," she said. "Sefton and I team teach a master class at night on Thursday. It might be better suited to your level of development. Most of the students in this open class are all weekend hobbyists."
I made a face, wrinkling up my nose without thinking. "I think I'll stick to this class, but I'm flattered that you suggested it."
"Oh, it was Sefton who suggested it. He tells me you’re a painter. The Thursday class is a painting class."
I shook my head and smiled. "Thanks anyway. I'll stick with this class if you don’t mind. No offense. I don't think I'm ready for a master class…"
"Sefton said he saw your work and you're very good."
"That's very nice of him," I said and then Sefton came up to us and stood close to me.
"It is very nice of me, but also very true. Show Talia the painting you have on your phone, the one you did of your fiancé."
I shrugged my shoulder and stepped back from Sefton. "You really can't see it well…"
"Please, I'd like to see it," Talia said and reached her hand out.
Finally, I pulled out my phone and quickly brought up the image of my Drake painting. I handed my phone to her and she examined it, then raised her eyebrows.
"I can see that you already have experience with nudes." She showed it to Sefton who nodded. Then he looked closer and smiled. "That's not the one I saw. The one I saw was a bit more… modest. That's quite the… painting."
I quickly took back my phone and saw that I'd shown them the full frontal nude of Drake instead of the more chaste version. My cheeks burned as I quickly pulled up the right image and handed it back to Talia.
"That's the one I meant to show you," I said, smiling a guilty grin. "The other one is private."
Talia smiled and examined the other image. "Very nice. Kate, you really should take the master class. This class is below your skill level."
"I don't know," I said and backed away.
"Think about it," Talia said. "You should be focusing on your painting. Your drawing skills are already well-developed."
"Think about it," Sefton repeated, nodding. "Seriously."
"I will," I said, and gathered up my things, leaving as quickly as I could. I was in such as rush, I banged into a bench with my portfolio, almost knocking it over. I turned at the door to wave goodbye to Talia and Sefton was standing with his arms crossed, smiling in that way. He knew he made me feel uncomfortable. I was sure at that moment that he enjoyed it.
I called Jomo and asked him to pick me up from The Institute. As I waited for him outside in the noon-hour sun, I hoped that Sefton wouldn't see fit to join me and pester me more.
Of course, he did. I saw him leave the building with his sunglasses on. When he saw me, he came right over.
"Ms. McDermott," he said. "May I call you Kate?"
I shrugged, refusing to say yes or no.
"Kate," he said and smiled, glancing away as if he were amused by my reluctance to speak with him. "Are you waiting for that fiancé of yours to pick you up?"
"No, actually, I have a taxi coming."
"A taxi? Those scoundrels? Let me take you. Save you a few of your American dollars."
I saw Jomo a few blocks away, his distinctive old English taxi with a yellow stripe a now-familiar sight. I stood, glad he was almost there to rescue me from Sefton.
"Thanks, but my taxi is here."
"Send him away and come with me," Sefton said, waving to Jomo as he drove up. "I won't take no for an answer.
"Yes, you will." I pushed passed Sefton and opened the door to the back of the cab, so damn glad to see Jomo's face.
"Hello, Miss," he said. "How was your class?"
"Great," I said and closed my door. Sefton leaned inside the open window. I frowned at him, hoping that my evil eye expression gave him the message.
He merely smiled at me. Obviously, he knew I didn’t want his attentions but didn't care.
"Good to see you again, Kate. I guess I'll be seeing you every class for the next month or so, while my students work on their longer studies. And maybe on Thursday nights, too."
"Good bye," I said and turned back to Jomo. "Let's go."
Sefton pulled away, his hands held up as if in surrender.
"Au revoir, ma petite chérie," he said in perfect French.
As we drove off, adrenaline jolted through my body. He had used a phrase very similar to the one Drake had used at the dungeon when I apologized for choking on his cock.
I watched Sefton, who stood smiling, his arms crossed as if he'd won some kind of battle.
"Was that man bothering you, Miss?" Jomo said.
"He wanted to, but I'm not going to let him," I replied, although in truth, I felt like I could die of embarrassment at that moment.
"Very good," Jomo said, nodding as if he understood my meaning.
Jomo dropped me off at the house and I shivered as I entered the cool interior, but it was in part the result of my adrenaline rush wearing off.
I walked through the rooms, touching the furniture, stopping to look at the boxes, which still had to be unpacked, trying to distract myself from the fact – the unmistakable fact – that not only had Drake had sex with me in the public room, but Sefton had watched.
I went to my studio, found some tape and put my drawings on the wall, deliberately pushing that knowledge out of my mind. I spent the rest of the day putting away kitchenware and bathroom supplies, before sitting and searching through a few boxes of my art supplies that I'd packed up and sent over. Acrylics, brushes, paint pallets, and other materials. My cell buzzed around five thirty and I took it out of my bag and checked, hoping it was Drake.
It was Claire.
Hello, Kate. There's an artist safari coming up and I've been able to convince the guides to let us join it even though it's late. It's the weekend that the boys are on call, but this is the only art safari for the next few months. I'd like to book us a few spots now, if that's OK with you. What do you say the two of us go? It will be a grand time.
I texted her back.
I'd love to go. It sounds like fun. It's too bad the 'boys' are on call that weekend but maybe we can all go on a regular safari soon.
She texted back that yes, it was too bad that they were scheduled to be on call. I paused before responding. It was lucky that she knew some of the guides or else we would be out of luck for the safaris are booked months in advance. Since Drake and I had already spoken about the art safari, I replied and agreed that she should reserve our spots.
Drake sent me a text before dinner, saying he hoped to be home a bit early as the hospital was pretty quiet and their surgeries were all finished and the patients were out of recovery. I was pleased. We might get to eat dinner together.
I'm on my way now. Have a shower and wait for me. After we eat dinner, I want to eat you.
I smiled to myself. Drake always started working me up even before he got home. I texted him back.
Do you want me to wear something special? Do something special?
I saw the indication that he was typing a reply and waited, chewing a nail, smiling. He typed for quite a while, but finally, the text message arrived.
Now that you mention it, I want you to be my slave-girl tonight. I know we're not 24/7 but for tonight, we can pretend that we are. I want you wearing your nylons and garters, but no panties. I want you to wear that sexy little flowered sundress. I want you to have your hair up and your collar – your thick leather collar – on. Be waiting by the sofa on your knees, like a good slave, your eyes downcast. I want dinner ready in the oven, so you can serve me. I bought some flavored vodka at the Junction and picked up some really soft rope that I plan
on using to tie you up. And then, I'm going to ravish you, Katherine…
That sent a thrill through my body, heating my cheeks. I had a quick shower and dressed as he instructed, and spent the next half hour thinking about him, as my body responded to the thought that he'd planned a scene. I wondered what he'd want to do. It didn’t matter – whatever he wanted would be wonderful, but I was curious. His words about how he would treat me if I had been an ordinary sub, with me down on my knees frequently, were arousing. I wished he'd push a bit more for my obedience during sex. I liked Drake in Dom mode. I felt so secure, so uninhibited.
After I prepared myself for Drake, I made my way to the kitchen and slipped some fresh shrimp into the oven, drizzled with lemon juice, olive oil, fresh grated garlic and salt and pepper. It would be ready very quickly once I turned on the broiler, and there was a fresh salad in the fridge. A loaf of artisan bread sat on the breadboard. There was chilled white wine in the wine cooler.
I followed Drake's instructions, like an obedient 'slave-girl', and I was ready for him. Now all I had to do was wait for him to get home.
CHAPTER TEN
In about fifteen minutes, my cell phone chimed, and I checked. It was Drake.
Katherine, I'm on my way home. I just went through the guardhouse. Be waiting for me. Be ready for me. I'm more than ready for you…
I smiled to myself and texted him back.
I'm very ready for you, Sir.
I smiled, my body already responding. I wanted to feel his power and his dominance tonight. It would help me forget Sefton and the fact I had to tell Drake that Sefton had, in fact, seen us at the dungeon.
I knelt by the sofa the way he directed in his text and waited, my head down. I closed my eyes and tried to focus properly, so that I was serious and not grinning like an idiot when he arrived. I did not want to spoil the mood he was trying to create. Instead, I thought about the letters he wrote to his novice subs and how much they had excited me when I read them what seemed like ages ago, but was really only six months earlier.
Only six months?
He entered the house and I heard him shuck off his shoes and throw his jacket over the back of the chair, as he did every day when he arrived home. I kept my head bowed and my eyes closed, waiting for him to come to me and instruct me on what he wanted. I heard him unscrew a bottle top, the metal rasp familiar – he said he'd picked up some flavored vodka – did he find some Anisovaya in Nairobi?
Footsteps on the hardwood between the kitchen and living room, and then the soft pad of his feet on the carpet came next. I knew he was standing in front of me for I could smell him – his cologne, a hint of that indescribable maleness.
He took my chin in his hand and tilted my head up. I kept my eyes closed, and waited. He seemed to examine my face for a moment and then he kissed me, his kiss warm. When he slipped his tongue between my lips, I tasted something slightly tangy – vodka with green apple flavor – that must have been the flavored vodka he bought at the Exchange Mall on his way home.
"I missed you today, Katherine," he said, his voice deep and warm.
"I missed you, Sir."
"You can open your eyes now."
I did, blinking after keeping them shut for quite some time. When I did, I was staring into his blue eyes and once again, I was struck by how beautiful they were, so light blue, like faded denim, with thick black lashes and dark brows. A thrill went through me when our eyes met and I saw the intensity in his.
Then he lifted me up, his hands under my arms, so that I stood in front of him. He walked in a circle around me, examining my clothing.
"Very nice," he said, running a hand over my shoulder and down over the bodice, cupping a breast as he did. "I like the way your breasts look in that. It makes me breathless."
He stepped closer. "In fact, it makes me want to do this," he said and pulled down one strap, exposing my shoulder. Bending down, he kissed my shoulder, and ran his lips and tongue over my collarbone and down over the upper curve of one breast. I gave a soft moan when he squeezed it and then pulled the fabric down further to expose the entire breast.
"So perfect," he said, his voice a murmur of approval. "Breasts that demand attention." Then he gently pushed me back onto the couch and leaned over me, leaving a line of kisses down from my cheek to my jaw, then down to my breast once more. He sucked my nipple into his mouth, his tongue running in circles around the areola, then pulling on it with gentle teeth. I gasped and arched my back because it felt so good when he sucked once more, sending delicious little chills down my spine and right to my now-throbbing clit.
I thought he'd continue and that we'd have sex before we ate dinner, but instead, he put the strap back on my shoulder, covered my breast and smoothed my dress. Then he pulled me upright so that I stood once more before him.
"I'm starving. Let's eat."
I was shocked back to the present, having been lulled into a lust-filled reverie by his mouth and tongue and hands. I blinked a few times, and then inhaled deeply to get control over my arousal.
"OK…"
He cracked a grin. "A bit worked up are you, Ms. Bennet?"
"A bit," I said, unable to keep from smiling back at him. "Did you intend to work me up and then leave me unsatiated, Sir? Are you so cruel?"
He took my hand and placed it over his erection, which was nice and thick and hard.
"I'm very cruel. I'm also too damn hungry to delay any longer."
I smiled. "Dinner is almost ready. There's salad in the fridge, a fresh baguette, and I only have to turn on the broiler and the shrimp will be cooked in ten minutes."
"Sounds delicious. Let me pour you a glass of wine."
He turned and led me to the kitchen, taking me by the hand. I followed him, surprised at how the evening was going.
"Am I supposed to stay in submissive mode through dinner?"
"Yes, Katherine," he said, his voice sounding a bit impatient. "That was the idea so watch that saucy tongue of yours. I'm only tolerating it because I'm so hungry. You do what I tell you, serve me when I tell you, comply without question to what I demand of you. That includes using proper forms of address…"
"Yes, Master," I said. "I haven't called you that for a long time and it feels pretty…"
I hesitated, thinking I should shut my mouth and not make a comment.
"Pretty what?" he said and stopped at the island in the kitchen, turning to face me, his arms crossed.
"Nothing," I said. "Master."
He nodded. "Good. Now, I'm going to sit here at the island and watch you finish dinner. We can eat here. I don’t care about eating in the dining room. I want to drink my wine and relax, watch you serve me."
I smiled and proceeded to finish cooking dinner. This is what 24/7 couples did – they were in scene all the time, with the Master being served or serviced, and the sub always in proper sub form. I didn’t think I'd like it, but it was fun to serve him after being separated from him all day so I did my best to comply. I said nothing while I turned on the stove's broiler and proceeded to cook the shrimp. I already had plates and cutlery out, so it was a matter of taking out some new placemats we bought earlier in the week and set two places for us.
While I prepared dinner, I felt Drake's eyes on me, and I felt as if I were performing for him. What was he thinking as he watched me? Did he like this? Or was he doing this for psychological reasons? With Drake, I never knew if something was an expression of his desire or whether he did it to give me what he thought I wanted and needed.
"How was your day?" he asked while I cut up the baguette and placed the buttered pieces in a basket. "You had your first class. Did you enjoy it?"
I sighed. "For the most part," I said. I realized I'd have to tell Drake about Sefton.
"What does that mean?"
I stopped what I was doing and looked in his eyes directly, even though I knew I shouldn't. Instantly, we were out of scene, out of our roles, and back into reality.
"My instructor's great," I s
aid. " Talia's really talented and a good teacher. She said some really nice things about my work. She also said I shouldn't be in that class because it was below my skill level and she wanted me to take a master class she teaches on Thursday nights."
He raised his eyebrows and seemed pleased. "That's great. You are talented. Come here," he said and waved me over. I went to him and he pulled me into his arms, and onto his lap so that I sat on his knee. "I'm so glad for you that it went well." He kissed me, warmly, and then pulled away, brushing hair off my cheek. "What part wasn't so great?"
I hesitated. How did I put it?
"Sefton deVilliers brought his class into our room for the second part so his students could use the nude model. They're going to share the room with us during every class for a month or so."
"Oh…" he said, his voice trailing off. He frowned. "Did he pester you?"
I nodded. "He commented on my choker again and then he asked me if we were 24/7."
"What?" Drake's face blanched. "He asked if we were 24/7?"
I nodded. "When I asked him what he meant, he tried to say he meant to ask if I wore my choker 24/7, but I'm pretty sure he really did want to know whether we are a 24/7 couple."
"Damn…" Drake rubbed his eyes. "Did he say anything else?"
"He tried to give me a ride home, but I had already called Jomo and luckily, he arrived and I was able to escape."
Drake shook his head. "Well, maybe you should drop the drawing class like your instructor suggested and take the master class on Thursday nights. I usually work late Thursday anyway, so I won't feel deprived of your attentions."
I bit my bottom lip and looked in his eyes.
"What?" he said, frowning.
"Sefton co-teaches the master class…"
"Oh, no," he said, pulling away a bit, glancing at the window. "No." He turned back to me. "I don’t want you taking a class from him."
