Uncharted Territory (The Compass Series Book 3)

by Tamsen Parker

  “Yes, sir, but—”

  “I’ll make sure you have time to do your homework, I promise. This isn’t supposed to be stressful. You’re supposed to enjoy this. I value the trust you’ve put in me, and I would never betray that.”

  His small, earnest words make my heart feel like it’s going to explode. So little about me has ever been valued. I’ve never been good enough, never been deserving. My throat gets tight as I try to blink back bewildered tears.

  “What’s the matter, little one?”

  I want to keep the words tucked inside where it’s safe, but if he’s giving so much to me, I can bare this part of myself.

  “Why me?”

  “Why not you?”

  I could be insulted. That’s not exactly complimentary. It’s not like he’s singled me out for special treatment because I’m remarkable in some way. On the other hand, damn straight. Why not me? Why should my default be that I don’t deserve happiness, attention, love? That’s fucked up. I can see clearly enough to know it, but that doesn’t make the feeling go away, not entirely.

  Rey doesn’t say anything else, not even remarking on the slight heaves of my shoulders as I try to clear the tears without actually letting them out. Instead of bleeding these horrible and mortifying feelings all over, I let them settle like a bruise under the skin, to be broken down and carried away in bits.

  *

  On Saturday evening after we’ve gone out for dinner, Rey tells me he’s going to hurt me.

  My breath catches in my throat. “Why, sir?”

  He’s sitting on the couch again, his knees spread wide so I can kneel between them on a pillow. I’m naked again, as I’ve been almost all weekend, and my collar is back around my neck. I don’t think I’ve been badly behaved, but it’s taken some getting used to and I haven’t been perfect. I want to be perfect for him.

  “It’s not for punishment,” he says, stroking my hair. “You’ve been a very good girl.”

  I know it shouldn’t, but those words send a thrill of pleasure through me. Good girl.

  “It’s clear you’re a fan of the D/s stuff, but I thought we might see if you’re a little bit of a masochist. A lot of bottoms are, but not everyone. Even if you aren’t, it’s a good thing to experiment with. I don’t want to send you out into the world not knowing how any of this feels.”

  I appreciate his foresight. I’d rather try whatever this is with Rey than with someone I don’t know, don’t trust completely. And I’d rather try it here in this anonymous hotel room where no one will hear or see me than at another play party. It’s not modesty. It’s more…privacy. If I screw up, I don’t want anyone knowing who doesn’t absolutely have to.

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  “You’re welcome. Now wait here, I’ll be right back.”

  He leaves me alone, and I practice being quiet, still, and pretty. Docility has come more naturally to me than I thought it would, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have to practice. Especially when I’m not entirely sure what to expect. What is he getting? I don’t have long to find out. A few minutes later, I hear Rey come back into the room, his footfalls sounding on the hardwood of the living room instead of getting silenced by the plush carpet of the bedroom.

  “Turn around,” he commands. I face the coffee table behind me and watch as he lays a few objects on the spotless glass. He lets me stare at them, and I wonder if he’s allowing me the time or forcing it on me so I can torture myself. Clever man either way. “Look at me.”

  When I meet his gaze, he drops a nod before he starts to speak, like he wanted to make sure he had my attention.

  “These are some basics. We’ve got a flogger, a paddle, and a cane. I probably won’t use all of these on you tonight, but we’ll see how it goes. You may touch them if you like.”

  I run my fingers through the strands of the flogger, liking the feel of them. Soft. But that’s me exerting force on the object, not the other way around. How would it feel to have those innocent strands fall across my skin with the weight of a person, a Dominant, behind them? I lick my lips, and Rey chuckles softly. I look up at him, a blush rising in my cheeks.

  “That’s fine, kitten. I like your curiosity. Nothing to be ashamed of, you’re so much fun to watch.”

  Even though he’s told me it’s fine, my embarrassment isn’t snuffed out entirely. It’s smoldering coals, ready to leap into a full-on fire at any second if someone were to add the fuel of derision.

  My hand drifts over to the paddle, and I finger the finely stitched leather. It’s smaller than I thought it would be. I’d expected something more like a fraternity paddle, but this is narrower and shorter and somehow the craftsmanship lends an elegance I’d sometimes found lacking during the research Rey’d had me do. I imagine the fall of it on my behind, the backs of my thighs, and there’s a bloom of excitement and anxiety in my stomach and my low belly.

  “You should see the expression on your face right now. You look like you’re in love.”

  “I might be, sir.”

  There’s a vague smile on Rey’s face and one corner curls up further. “We’ll see. Fantasy and reality don’t always match up, and that’s completely okay.”

  The cane is next. It’s shorter than what I’d thought of when he’d first mentioned it. It wouldn’t be useful as a walking aid; it’s been made for a singular purpose. This scares me more than the other two. I remember the images I’d seen of the marks it would leave. Dark bruises laid in defined lines across soft flesh. It had made my stomach clench when I’d seen the pictures, and I absentmindedly rub at my butt thinking of how it might feel. The phrase “hurts like a bitch” comes to mind.

  There’s nausea on the horizon, distant and indistinct. I can’t bring myself to touch it, curious though I might be. As if he’s reading my mind, Rey takes the cane literally off the table. “Not tonight then, though you should try it sometime.”

  I nod my agreement, mumbling a “yes, sir.”

  Rey reaches out and cups my chin, lifting my gaze to his. “You still with me, little one? You look a little dazed.”

  “Yes, sir. I…”

  “It’s a lot, I know. Take your time, think about it. Ask me any questions you have, I’ll answer the best I can. If you don’t want to try tonight, you don’t have to. This is all up to you. I’m just your cruise director.”

  I look a little longer, and my gaze keeps returning to the paddle. It scares me, yes, but maybe like a rollercoaster is scary. The fright is part of the thrill. I pick it up again and handle it, touching all the surfaces, even smacking it against my open palm. It stings a little, but I like the feeling of the impact, the pressure, the push. Something deep inside me flutters, and there’s the possibility of it taking flight. I turn the paddle over and over, around and around, until I must have seen every inch of it a dozen times. When I feel as though we’re intimately acquainted, this instrument and I, I rest it across both my palms and offer it up to Rey, who’s still standing in patient wait across the table.

  “Please, sir.”

  *

  I wake the next morning snuggled into Rey’s side, my hand resting on the soft cotton of the T-shirt he wore to bed and my thigh draped across his. I wish I could sleep with him every night. When I woke in the middle of the night, his steady heartbeat beneath my ear and the warmth of his body against mine silenced the worries that constantly nag at me. I could sink back into sleep instead of waking for fretful hours.

  Huffing a small noise, I reach back. My butt hurts. It certainly had last night between the spanking he called a warm-up and the thorough paddling I’d been treated to, but I wasn’t sure how long the pain would linger. I’m strangely pleased the sensation hasn’t gone away entirely. I like being able to call up the feeling of being hit from the dialed-back ache.

  “Sore?”

  I purse my lips—because of course he’s awake and paying attention to me. “A little, sir.”

  “But you like it.”

  “Yes, sir.
”

  “Good.” His easy satisfaction makes my heart glow, and I practically purr when he runs a hand through my hair. “Room service for breakfast?”

  The rest of the day is a delight. I don’t dress, I spend much of my time on the floor, and I do precisely what’s asked of me. I don’t worry about a thing. Rey wasn’t lying about giving me enough time to do my work, and I find when I do, it’s easier because I’m more focused. Like my brain’s a battery that’s finally been allowed to recharge. I hadn’t realized how exhausted and strung out I was. By the time I go back to classes tomorrow, I’ll be unstoppable. Although I wonder if I’ll sit in my dorm room at my standard-issue desk and wish I were still cross-legged on a pillow at Rey’s feet.

  Chapter Five

  ‡

  Year One

  “I got an interesting phone call last night.”

  “Oh?”

  Rey’s “interesting” phone calls are, on average, more interesting than most. My curiosity is piqued.

  “Hunter Vaughn called.”

  “And?” I swallow another spoonful of my tomato bisque, trying to sound casual even though I’m feeling anything but. Hunter Vaughn: mysterious, mercurial, and oh-so-mouth-watering host of the party Rey took me to several weeks ago. He’s not left my mind since.

  Rey chuckles and takes a bite of his salad niçoise, the house specialty. Rey treats me to lunch here sometimes. Today it’s to celebrate an A on my econ paper. Or so I thought.

  “You’re cute. And although you’re almost convincing, you don’t need to play with me. I know how you feel about the guy. It’s part of my job. I’m very good at my job.”

  Right. If Hunter asked Rey today how long he’s been working with me—in earnest, of course—the answer would be three weeks, four days. Since the day after the party, when I gave Rey the official go-ahead I’d been debating for weeks. It’s been…educational.

  “You should save the coy for the man himself. He wants to see you.”

  “He does?” A bolt of excitement shoots through me. Hunter Vaughn wants to see me. “What did he say?”

  “He’s having a party on Saturday. He wanted to know if I was coming.”

  I frown. That doesn’t sound like wanting to see me at all.

  “He asked if I was bringing a plus one.”

  That sounds more promising, but still…

  “And are you going to bring Kevin?” Kevin is Rey’s latest fuck buddy. He’s revoltingly handsome, in a dumb jock sort of way. Well, as dumb as you can be and still be a jock at Princeton at any rate. Which, it turns out, dumber than you’d think. There’s no way Rey would take him out anywhere. He’s a strictly-behind-closed-doors, mouth-shut, clothes-off kind of lay.

  “Not unless you never want to see Mr. Vaughn again.” Rey takes a long sip of his water. “Hunter does not personally collect RSVPs to his parties. That’s about as close as he was going to get. To be honest, I’m surprised he was so blatant. He may as well have been begging. He’s got it bad for you.”

  “That’s convenient, considering I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him.”

  “I think so.” Rey smirks, his mouth curling in a vaguely sinister way. I’m not sure exactly why fucking with Hunter delights him, but it sure as hell seems to. “And if you intrigued him when you saw him last, you’re going to downright inflame him this time.”

  I shift in my chair. I like the idea of inflaming Hunter Vaughn. I’d like to see what he would do. I want to make him lose that bored tone again and find out what the consequences of that kind of audacity would be. My pulse has started to race just thinking about it. Yes, I’d like to know I have the same effect on Mr. Vaughn as he has on me.

  *

  We’re pulling up the same drive with the same long line of cars, but my heart is beating hard for a different reason. I know what I’m getting into this time, and I’d like to get into a lot more of it. When Rey slips the collar around my neck, I feel the same loosening of the screws I always do. It’s familiar and welcome. The stress of this afternoon’s phone call with my mother melts away.

  She’d tried to badger me into coming home tonight for some stupid gallery opening of one of her insipid friends. When I refused, telling her I already had plans, things had escalated more quickly than usual. She’d threatened to stop paying my tuition and, when that didn’t work, revoke my trust fund. Of course she’d relented—she always does—but I really hadn’t needed that emotional overload on top of the insane amount of reading I need to cram in this weekend. But it’s over now. I belong to Rey. His collar is around my neck, and I feel at ease in my own skin in a way I haven’t for days.

  “Shall we?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Rey unfolds himself from behind the steering wheel, comes to my side of the car to help me out, and puts his arm around my waist to lead me down the drive. I recognize Ben at the door with the same clipboard. And I’m very satisfied that when he turns to greet us, his jaw full on drops to the floor.

  “G-good evening, Mr. Walter. Miss,” he stammers.

  “You forget yourself, Ben.”

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

  “Come.”

  Rey ushers me up the last few steps and into the house. I glance over my shoulder at Ben and offer him a small smile, causing his face to turn the most delightful shade of red.

  “You’re such a cocktease.” Rey tries to sound stern, but fails, leaving me with the impression he’s pleased. “You shouldn’t mess with Ben, it’s cruel.”

  “Yes, sir,” I demur, although I’d like to tell him I could’ve been worse. What I wanted to do was wink. Poor Ben would’ve expired.

  When we enter, it’s much the same except for the woman by the door accepting coats. Before Rey removes mine, he looks at me. “You understand you’re about to become a baby seal in a room full of sharks, right?”

  “Yes. But you’re the one holding the club, sir.”

  He chuckles and shakes his head while reaching for my belt. “Let the feeding frenzy begin.”

  As Rey pushes the coat from my shoulders and hands it to the woman, heads turn in our direction. Rey looks damn good tonight with his hair carefully askew, clad in a black suit, white shirt just open at the collar, and no tie. The plainness draws attention to the bronze of his skin and emphasizes the quality, the expense of his simple clothes. He’s utterly beautiful.

  But they’re not looking at him. Oh, no. All eyes are on me. I didn’t look bad last time we came and I created some buzz, but this time I’ve gone to quite a bit of trouble. My hair is freshly cut and blown out, and every inch of me has been scrubbed, buffed, and polished. A good thing, too, because this dress does not leave much to the imagination.

  Or, as Rey refers to it, The Dress. The Dress is black, sleeveless, short as sin, shows off my décolletage, and plunges low in the back. I had to slip on my briefest underwear because everything else showed, and while I’m already tempting fate, I will not go commando. Not tonight. I’ve got on my first pair of Louboutins, which make me feel sexy and tall as hell, and a girl at the spa did my makeup. I don’t even care (much) that the heavy eyeliner and mascara call attention to my eyes whereas I prefer for people to focus on my lips. Let them think the two different colors are a sign of the devil. This crowd won’t be deterred.

  Rey leads me down the stairs to where people are milling about and grabs us two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. It’s only a second before people are approaching. It’s the friendly, if predatory, figure of Constance Cooper that claims us first.

  “Rey.” She greets him with a peck on the cheek. She’s wearing a dress this evening, strapless and bright yellow. It’s her color and she’s gorgeous. In kitten heels, she’s taller than I am and her up-do adds a couple of inches.

  “Constance, lovely to see you as always.”

  “Not as lovely as it is to see this one.” Her eyes run up and down my body, and Rey doesn’t scold her like he did Ben. Constance is allowed to stare. “You have ou
tdone yourself. She’s stunning. I hope you won’t keep Baby in a corner all evening. It’s not fair to bring a toy like this and not share.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Rey’s evasion is met with a scowl from Constance. She gives up on him and shifts her eyes to me. “Kitten, I’m so glad you came to join us tonight. I thought after your run-in with Tobias we might have scared you off, but you’re tougher than you look.”

  “Thank you, mistress. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Honestly, Rey,” she snaps, turning on her heel and stalking off. “You’re killing me!”

  The next hour or so is more of the same, and I’m getting antsy. Where’s Hunter? Rey said he wanted to see me. I’ve been stealing glances around the room whenever I get the chance, but I’ve never even caught a glimpse of him. I didn’t go to all this trouble for anyone else here—despite their obvious interest—and I’m feeling neglected. Isn’t this his party? This is, at the very least, poor manners.

  After another half an hour of show and tell—and in some cases, touch—I’m annoyed and I want to leave. If Hunter’s fucking with me, I’m tired of it, and I’ve yet to find someone who’s captured my interest in the same way. Not that there aren’t stirrings of something from the palpable power and authority of some of these people, but it’s not the same thrill Hunter sent through me. If only. I’ll have to ask him later to be sure, but I’m fairly certain Rey’s fielded at least half a dozen indecent proposals for me.

  When our latest friend leaves, a willowy blonde mistress trailed by her muscular and friendly boy, Ben cuts in. He leans close to Rey and says something I can’t make out. Rey’s face settles into a subtle but satisfied smile and his eyes slip over to mine. This is going to be good.