In the Zone

by Sierra Cartwright

  Anytime he scened, he instructed the sub to call him Sir instead of Master. He didn’t want any confusion. To him, a Master had more power, a greater obligation to the sub’s well-being. It meant a dependency he hadn’t agreed to, a relationship, rather than a scene. Until now, he hadn’t wanted the responsibility.

  But from Alani, the honorific was a gift he cherished.

  She might not remember saying it; he’d never forget she had.

  “I’ll be going back to the Middle East sooner than planned.”

  Slowly, carefully, she asked, “How soon?”

  With her soft, compact body pressed against him, his cock hardened. Generally he wasn’t this responsive. Great sex could keep him satisfied for a day, maybe more. But with her, a hard-on was nearly constant. “Within the week.”

  “I see.”

  Her tone was measured, calculated not to reveal emotion. But her unblinking eyes told a different story.

  “I will stay until Master Marcus returns from Mexico.” He held her tighter. “I’m not going to let you run, Alani.”

  “There doesn’t seem to be any purpose in prolonging our interlude.”

  “Alani, stop. You’ve always known I was leaving.”

  “Of course,” she said quickly, too quickly. “This changes nothing.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She blinked.

  “Bullshit,” he repeated. “I was there. I saw what happened to you. And I sure as hell know what happened to me. That kind of scene means something, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you pretend it doesn’t.”

  “It was hot,” she said breezily. “And I can get hot anywhere, from any dom at the club.”

  He refused to be goaded. “Bullshit again. The entire issue you had at the club, the reason you got written up, was because you can’t get the physical pain to transcend the emotional crap you carry around.”

  “I’ve told you not to fucking psychoanalyze me, Sir.”

  Good thing she’d added the Sir. Good thing he knew she was reeling and not just being a bitch. “Your little act—”

  “It’s not an act; I honestly don’t give a rip—”

  “Your act,” he reasserted, “might fly with most men and a lot of doms. But I’m not any dom.”

  She struggled to get away. He held her tighter. At no time was her power and strength a match for his. “Yield, sub.”

  “Not on your life, Sir.”

  He reacted.

  He flipped her under him and trapped her wrists above her head. He pinned her slight body with his, and his erection pressed into her.

  He kissed her. Until now, he hadn’t done anything other than kiss her lightly. This time he assaulted her mouth. He demanded her tongue as well as her surrender.

  She fought him, but he was determined.

  He wouldn’t let her dismiss him or what they’d done. He kissed her until she stopped fighting and sweetly surrendered. She arched toward him. Her pussy was hot, and she parted her legs in silent invitation.

  He ended the kiss slowly. This woman got to him on all dimensions. He doubted she’d ever be a stellar sub. She wore her independence like a hedgehog wore quills. “Admit it, Alani. That wasn’t just any scene we shared.”

  “It meant nothing.”

  “Goddamn it.” With her kiss, she’d lulled him into believing she agreed with him. And she was still spitting fire. Dishonest little bitch. “You honestly, honestly, want me to put you in my car, drive you back to your vehicle, and forget this ever happened? I can maybe hook up with you sometime in the future, unless you’re busy having a hot scene you can get anywhere?”

  “You have my number.”

  Fury slashed and burned through his chest. He’d never been tested like this. He wanted to paddle her senseless, continuing until she broke. He wanted her to admit the truth to herself as much as to him. He was aware of the pressure he had on her wrists and the way he was so close to pounding his rigid cock into her.

  Her brown eyes were moist with unshed tears. Whether it was from anger, frustration, or her demons, he had no idea.

  He dragged in a jagged breath. He loosened his grip slightly and reined in his libido. “Yeah, I do have your number, sub. Eight.”

  “Eight?” She blinked.

  “The number of spankings you’re going to get. I won’t tolerate your disrespect. And I won’t abide your lies.” He refused to beat her in anger, but at this point, he had no compunction about giving her a good butt warming.

  He moved quickly. He was sitting with her sprawled across his lap before she could voice a protest. “You’ll tell me the truth, Alani, or you won’t sit for a week.”

  “I told you the truth, beast!”

  “Your ass is still red from the horsehair, painslut, so you should really appreciate this.” He slapped her hard with his open hand.

  She yelped.

  “The truth, Alani. The scene was more than you hoped.”

  “So what if you have a cool flogger, Sir? Anyone can drop a hundred bucks on one and put me into subspace with that.”

  Other doms wouldn’t be so forgiving. He gritted his teeth and laid three quick strokes to her reddened rear. “Brat.” He blistered her butt until she was thrashing on his lap. He captured her around the waist, holding her captive. “The truth,” he reminded her.

  “That’s more than eight spanks, Sir!” She tried to protect her butt, but he moved her hand aside.

  “I didn’t hear you count a single one or express your gratitude. We’ll begin counting when you follow directions.” He spanked her.

  “One. Thank you, Sir.”

  Her words were more snarl than anything.

  “Watch your tone.” He waited.

  “One. Thank you, Sir.”

  He smacked her again, directly on top of welts he’d created.

  “Two.” She grunted. “Thank you, Sir.”

  He continued his pace and waited between each.

  By the time he got to seven, her ass was full of welts, and his hand hurt. She was just as stubborn as she’d always been. As soon as he got the chance, he was going online to order a spanking glove, and not a furry one—a leather one with raised studs.

  On the last one, laid with as much power as he could muster, she broke.

  “Eight, damn you, fuck you, thank you!”

  He pulled her on top of him chest to chest and dragged the covers up. He held her, soothed her.

  “No one…” She shuddered. “No one. Ever.”

  It wasn’t the amazing confession he’d hoped for, but it was enough. She hated the neediness as much as he did. So where the hell did that leave them? One thing he knew for sure, he wasn’t letting her go without a fight.

  She began to move against him.

  “Who’s the dom?” he asked.

  “You are, Sir.”

  “Then who initiates the sex?”

  “You do, Sir.” She shifted so she could slide her damp pussy across his hard cock.

  “Who waits patiently for her dom to decide to fuck her?”

  “I do, Sir.”

  She continued to rock her pelvis suggestively. The hard nub of her clit teased just beneath his cockhead.

  She buried her head in his shoulder, and she gently kissed his neck. This was not the type of behavior he expected from Alani, but he was quickly learning she rarely did what he anticipated. She followed bits and pieces of BDSM decorum.

  “I should tie you to an unpadded chair so you feel the bruises from your punishment.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, brushing her lips across the side of his neck.

  “I should secure your ankles to the chair’s legs so I can keep your pretty pussy on display.”

  “Anything you say, Master Nathaniel.” She gently bit his shoulder. His cock surged against her clit.

  “I should shackle your hands so you can’t touch your hot cunt.”

  “I agree, Sir.”

  “I don’t allow you to top from the bottom, sub.” He grabbed a condom and
put it on. The stack was diminishing rapidly.

  “Of course not, Sir. You’re always in control.” She lifted her hips and took his cock deep inside.

  He knew what he should do to tame her, but his dick clearly had other ideas.

  She set the pace, lifting and lowering herself on his turgid penis. If this was the way she responded to a beating—soft, supple, feminine—he planned to beat her more often.

  A few minutes later, he’d taken all he could. He enjoyed her being in control…for a short while. If her moans were any guide, she liked it as well. He flipped her over onto her back and restored the natural order of things.

  At first, he entered and exited slowly, feeling her muscles milk him. Then the urge to dominate clawed at him. He captured her wrists in one hand. “Take me.”

  “Make me.”

  He braced himself on one elbow and sank inside her. She was hot and welcoming. “Keep your arms above your head.” He released his grip so that he could fondle her clit. “Come, slut.”

  She did. Again and again and again. He loved the sensation of her squeezing him. She drenched him with her juices.

  “Deep, Sir,” she said. “Fuck me deep.”

  He balanced his weight on his elbows, encircled her wrists, and took her.

  With several shorter, jerky strokes, and after making sure she cried out one more orgasm, he ejaculated. He kept his cock in her rather than rolling to the side. He wanted to look at her, see her surrender. His woman. His sub.

  She smiled at him.

  Now that was unusual.

  “Hurry back from the Middle East,” she said.

  “You’ll be waiting.” He made it a statement, not a question. He knew he had no right to make that demand, but it didn’t stop him.

  “If you say so, Sir.”

  While he liked hearing the word “Sir,” especially with in her sultry voice, he wanted to hear the word “Master” roll off her tongue again, willingly and with meaning. “I’m going to shower,” he told her. “You are welcome to a shirt from my closet, but I want you wearing nothing else. We’ll talk more in the car.”

  Reality had intruded far too quickly for his taste. He’d wanted time to get to know her better, to establish a relationship.

  He withdrew his spent cock.

  He kissed the top of her head, and he said nothing when she moved away from him and curled herself into a small ball in the center of the bed.

  She wasn’t in bed when he finished his shower. He found her in the kitchen, sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee. When she saw him, she placed her mug on the table and slid gracefully from her chair to kneel on the floor.

  Damn, he could get accustomed to this.

  He wondered why the hell he hadn’t had a 24-7 submissive relationship in the past. Having a beautiful woman so fully responsive to his demands was appealing.

  Alani had followed his instructions. She was wearing one of his T-shirts, a dark blue one that was soft from multiple washings. It ended midthigh. The combination of the T-shirt and stiletto heels made her look sexy as hell. Seeing her in his clothes shouldn’t turn him on. The T-shirt was at least as long as some of her skirts, but Christ, he’d never seen anything sexier. “Are you ready to go?” he asked.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Like a gentleman, he offered her a hand up. He held her coat for her while she slid into it. She paused for a moment, resting against his body before shrugging away.

  What would it take for her to totally surrender to him? Lean on him, trust him, not just sexually but mentally, emotionally?

  She wrapped the belt around her waist and gathered up the clothes she’d worn last night before preceding him from the house. He opened the vehicle door for her, and the sassy sub flipped up her coat and T-shirt to reveal her reddened buttocks as she climbed into the passenger side.

  “That’ll cost you,” he said before he closed the door.

  He readjusted himself before getting behind the wheel.

  “Why do you do it?” she asked. “Isn’t it dangerous?”

  Other women had asked the same question but not in the same way. She didn’t seem overly impressed, nor did she seem terribly worried. Unlike Jeanine, he’d be willing to bet Alani wouldn’t give him an ultimatum. Alani might dream of babies and a white picket fence, but he doubted it. Idiot that he was, he appreciated that, and it also annoyed him. What a fucking conundrum. “I was army, and I did a couple of deployments in the Middle East. I wanted to do more, help more, focus more intently on training the forces, and see more action.”

  “Are you an adrenaline junkie?”

  The Sunday-morning traffic into downtown was light, and he glanced at her. She had turned sideways in her seat and was watching him intently. He heard no judgment in her tone, just curiosity. “Probably.” He shrugged.

  “So why did you get out?”

  “I like making the rules, not following them.”

  “No doubt,” she said.

  “AJ put me in contact with the new team.”

  “Master AJ?” She frowned. “I thought he was just a nerd who liked to spank women.”

  “He’s deeper than you might imagine. He puts his computer talents to work for the best of them.”

  “Seriously?”

  “The club’s Web site, all the IT for Zones. He helped Jaron put together the security system.”

  “How is it I’ve worked for you guys for two years without knowing any of this?”

  “We’re all more complicated than we seem. Even you. Open your coat and expose your cunt.”

  She blinked but complied instantly and without complaint.

  “You say you’re just a masochist who isn’t into submission. But you’re an eager sub for the right man, the right master.”

  She licked her lower lip. She hadn’t missed his inflection. Good. He intended to let her think about it.

  “I have no intention of leaving the firm, but I am considering more work stateside, training others. Working in the Middle East is rewarding, but it’s fucking hard work. Shorter, more frequent deployments have been working well.” Until now. “Get yourself off,” he told her.

  “Here?” She looked at him. “Now, Sir?”

  “Do you need me to repeat my command? If you have any hope of being allowed to orgasm in the next month, you’ll do as you’re told.”

  He skimmed his fingertips up the inside of her thighs, not stopping until he felt how wet her pussy was.

  “My pussy is sore, Sir.”

  “From the fucking or from the strap?”

  “Both. I’ve never felt like this before, Sir.” She moved against him.

  So that he didn’t wreck, he moved his hands back to the steering wheel.

  “Do yourself,” he said.

  She made a show of putting two fingers in her mouth and sucking on them.

  With the way she continued to look at him, he knew she was intentionally arousing him.

  Even though she said she wasn’t into submission, she was so hot when she responded to him.

  She reached between her legs and touched her engorged clit. Her little shudder made him hard.

  “Good girl.”

  She moaned and jerked her hips, seemingly responding to his approval. The unmistakable sharp scent of her arousal filled the vehicle.

  He gripped the steering wheel tighter. His cock pressed insistently against his jeans. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. He wanted nothing more than to get out of the car, bend her over the seat, and ride her hard.

  “Oh, Sir…”

  “Come,” he told her. Part of him wondered why he allowed it. He should make her suffer the way he was.

  She continued to ride her fingers and press against her clit.

  He focused on the road ahead of him. If he looked at her, he’d no longer be able to control the SUV.

  She climaxed with a scream that echoed around him.

  Yeah. Definitely a bad idea. He wanted to swallow her scream and make her come agai
n.

  “Lick my fingers dry?” she asked, moving her hand in front of him.

  Since he was at a stoplight, he sucked her fingers into his mouth.

  “Oh, Sir. You’re such a strong man. You make me enjoy being a woman.”

  “A sub,” he corrected once he’d licked all her juices. “You’re a sub, Alani. When you admit it to yourself and to me, your life will be easier.”

  “I’m not sure about that, Sir.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Behind the club, he parked next to her car, then came around to help her from the SUV. “I wish I could keep you naked all the time,” he said. Naked, collared, and sometimes chained. “Give me your keys.”

  She fished them from her purse, moving aside the lingerie she’d worn last night. The reminder that the lovely little sub had on nothing beneath the T-shirt kept his cock hard.

  He accepted her keys and unlocked the vehicle. He was mindful that there could be pedestrians around, despite the fact it was a Sunday morning. When it was this warm of a spring day and the Colorado Rockies baseball team was in town, Lower Downtown buzzed with activity.

  He pinned her against the car’s frame, his right thigh thrust between her legs. He captured her chin with one hand and dug his other hand into her hair.

  He pulled back her head, exposing her throat, reminding them both of what he wanted from her.

  Capitulation.

  Complete and absolute capitulation.

  Her lips parted slightly in obvious surprise. Before she could ask any questions, he kissed her, long, hard, deep.

  She moved against his leg, humping him shamelessly. She tasted of morning and responsiveness, and the hunger was borne of good-bye.

  She reached for his cock and stroked him through his jeans.

  From her motions, her moans that he swallowed, he knew she was close to another orgasm, so he ended the kiss.

  He wanted to leave her raw and wanting.

  “Sir?”

  He released her, holding her waist until she retained her equilibrium. Part of him never wanted to let her go. But she had to come to him of her own volition. True submission was a gift. It couldn’t be demanded; it had to be freely given.

  He maneuvered them both so that he could open her car door. He held the door open for her. Once she was seated inside, he asked, “I’ll see you at work on Tuesday?”