Taming the Alpha

by Mandy M. Roth

  “What do you say? Pleasure first, business later?” she asked.

  Rosaline had come to the party tonight with one goal in mind: To play. And nothing would deter her from that. She’d lost her groove, her mojo. The only way she knew to get it back—was to step into the fray and play again. But she was without a Dominant, and her old circle of friends had abandoned her when Dickweed took his collar back. Six months of working him out of her soul, and this was the final hurdle to her completion. But could she do it?

  Veles studied her through narrowed eyes.

  Okay, so it wouldn’t be him. Deep down she’d known it might not be so easy to line something up for herself, but she’d do it. She’d make it work.

  Veles flicked his thumb over her wrist.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he said.

  Invisible fingers crept up her spine. Oh, was he taunting her?

  “Why don’t you tell me?” Because she needed fantasy fodder.

  His gaze dropped to her mouth and skipped to her cleavage before jumping back to her eyes. Well at least he was attracted to her. That gave a little to boost her confidence.

  “I don’t do pick-up play because I don’t separate sex and play. They’re one and the same with me.”

  She sucked in a breath. Oh, really now?

  “And that’s a problem because...?” Rosaline arched a brow at him. He was speaking her language now.

  Veles glanced around them. “I’m not much for public play.”

  “I’m an exhibitionist.” Besides, she wasn’t going to just crawl into this guy’s house and let him tie her up. Even if Fletcher did vouch for him.

  He paused once more, as if weighing his options. “Maybe we can compromise?”

  Warning bells clamored in her head.

  “Uh, how so?”

  Veles gestured to an empty table. “Sit with me. Talk a bit. If we’re both still interested, perhaps we can reach a compromise.”

  That…was incredibly reasonable.

  “Okay.”

  He escorted her to a table and even held her seat as she curled one leg under her and scooted closer. Only once she was settled did he take the seat across from her.

  “A gentleman. Rare indeed.” She clasped her hands in front of her, unsure where this would take them next.

  “My mamma would knock me into next Sunday if I didn’t hold a lady’s chair.” His stony expression cracked into a smile. A quick flash of teeth, and was that a twang she heard?

  “Where are you from?” Hadn’t Fletcher said he’d recently moved here?

  “Texas.”

  Ride ‘em, cowboy.

  “What are you doing in New Orleans?”

  It was his turn to arch a brow at her. “I thought you didn’t discuss work before breakfast?”

  “It’s pleasure, and you’re right.” She wanted him, and she hadn’t wanted anything in quite some time. Even this party she’d looked forward to for weeks wasn’t doing it for her. Usually, the press of people and the thought of being in front of them excited her. Not tonight. “Should we get down to it then?”

  “It?”

  “Oh, come on now, you don’t actually think I believe you want to talk to me for a minute?”

  His gaze froze her to the spot, robbing her of the ability to move. “You should believe what I say when I say it.” Veles relaxed back into his chair, and she found she could breathe once more. “But, if you’d like, we can get negotiations out of the way. Would you like me to go first?” he asked.

  “S-sure.” She needed a drink.

  “I’m mostly into power exchange, and I’ve been told I’m a demanding partner. I haven’t had a regular play partner in some time due to work and moving. I passed my last blood test with flying colors. What else would you like to know?”

  “Why did your last relationship end?” The question was out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Again.

  “She found someone else she wanted to be with whose preferences fit her better.” He didn’t miss a beat; she had to give him that.

  Rosaline blew out a breath. “I’m a sensation play girl. I don’t like pain, at least not for the sake of it. My last relationship ended six months ago, and I don’t have any party favors.” That was the quick version. The long version included a lot more crying and heartache on her part.

  “Now that that’s out of the way, why don’t you tell me about New Orleans?” Veles leaned an elbow on the armrest of his chair, his gaze never leaving her.

  Oh boy, this was going to be a trip.

  ***

  Kaspar stepped into the octagon in the great room. It was about ten feet across at its widest, with chain link fences and padding on the posts. He had no idea what purpose it served, but tonight, it would be where they played.

  He hadn’t lied when he told Thorn he preferred to play at home. Though he wasn’t a cop, being out in the community and in the spotlight meant, eventually, someone would recognize him. Though being outed was frowned upon, it still happened, and he couldn’t risk it when it came to his job.

  The stares of the people gathered around were heavy on his shoulders. Not only was this outside his comfort zone, but he was also new to the area. He’d chanced on an invitation to one of Fletcher’s parties a couple weeks after moving to New Orleans, but he still didn’t know many of the patrons. They were strangers to him.

  He set his borrowed bag of toys on a little rolling table that had been placed there for their use. Fletcher hadn’t shown any reticence about supplying him for this little endeavor. He even seemed to know what Thorn would like.

  This would be far outside of Kaspar’s comfort zone. He wasn’t much for show or being the center of attention. The press of people distracted him. And most of all, playing got him really, fucking horny. Not only that, but he couldn’t deny that he was doing this all in the name of work. No, from the moment he’d realized moving to New Orleans put him in the vicinity of R0$3, the hacker, his infatuation had blossomed into an embarrassing obsession.

  Kaspar selected a set of padded leather cuffs from the bag and hooked them on his pocket before turning to his partner.

  Thorn stood in the middle of the ring, hands clasped behind her, chest thrust forward and one leg slightly bent. It was the pose of a temptress who knew how to use her body. He could appreciate her beauty and skill, but that was not about to distract him from the plan forming in his mind.

  He gestured to the attendant waiting outside of the cage.

  Click. Click. Click.

  A chain with a wicked, industrial hook slowly lowered from the ceiling until it was just above Thorn’s head. She eyed the hard point, as if she was no longer sure of what he was asking her to do. He waited for some indication she would bolt, but she remained rooted to the spot. There was a tightness to her face he didn’t like, but he didn’t know her well enough to gauge if this was normal for her or not.

  It was clear she carried baggage with her, and part of him wanted to unpack it, free her of the burden, but he wouldn’t presume to know how. He’d have to trust her to know herself.

  Kaspar took a deep breath.

  Everything was ready.

  They’d negotiated. He knew her limits. She knew his. And they’d come to an agreement. Pleasure before business.

  Kaspar exhaled another deep breath before striding across the play space to Thorn. Her eyes grew wider as he stopped in front of her. He grabbed the hem of her knit nightie and pulled it up. She sucked in a breath and raised her arms while he whisked it over her head.

  He took one wrist and buckled it into the cuffs. She stared at him; neither spoke. There was a delicious tension vibrating between them. He only hoped she’d enjoy this as much as he would.

  Once both wrists were bound and the cuffs hooked together, he looped them over the hook, forcing her to stretch as far as her arms could go above her head.

  Thorn glanced around, her breathing a little erratic.

  “Sh, sh, sh.” He cupped her
face, forcing her to look at him. He was the one she’d decided to play with. If she needed help, she’d have to get it from him.

  Her gaze was wide, almost frightened. That didn’t make any sense. She was an experienced submissive who, by her own accounts, played publicly all the time.

  “What’s wrong?” He bent his head until her curls brushed his brow.

  “I just...I’m...”

  “Take a deep breath.” Together they inhaled, then exhaled, that same connection tightening around them, drawing her closer to him as she relaxed just a bit. “There we go. Try again. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m nervous.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…because it’s been six months since I’ve played.”

  Pieces clinked together. No partner in six months and it had been six months since she’d played; this was probably not a coincidence. He’d bet money there was a messy break-up in her past, and judging from the sudden bout of nerves, whatever the bastard had done or said to her had left the marks under the skin.

  “It’s natural to be nervous.” He swiped his thumbs over her cheeks, across her lips. “But know this; I have your pleasure and safety in mind. If you want to stop, all you have to do is say…?”

  “Red.”

  “Exactly. And everything stops. I don’t promise to be easy on you, but I do have your pleasure in mind. Understand?”

  Thorn nodded.

  “I need to hear you say it.”

  “I understand, Sir.” The corners of her mouth lifted and whatever terror had gripped her for the moment faded.

  Hearing her call him Sir was a punch to the gut. What would it be like to have her call him that all the time? It was a pipedream of course. They were different animals, inhabiting different worlds. It would never work, but for tonight, he’d sure as hell enjoy it.

  “Sir?”

  “Hm?”

  Thorn inhaled, drawing his attention lower. Under her dress all she wore were black, sparkly heart shaped pasties over her nipples and a lace thong. She had a black band of thorns tattooed around her thigh, and a single, dark rose blossom on her hip. Black thorns, indeed.

  “Would you kiss me?” Her question wasn’t that of the sex kitten who’d laid down her challenge. This was the woman underneath it all. The one bearing marks on her soul and uncertainty in her gaze.

  He stared at her mouth, and the crowd faded away entirely. It was as if they were in a white room, and they were the only two people in all the world.

  Kaspar bent and she lifted up on tip toes, pressing their lips together. She kissed him as if this single kiss was the only thing keeping her alive. He cupped the back of her neck, stepping closer, and thrust his tongue into her mouth. She moaned and her body went slack in his arms as she sucked his tongue.

  Chapter Two

  Rosaline’s legs shook and she couldn’t catch her breath. And all he was doing was staring at her. The murmurs of the crowd, the uncomfortable ache in her shoulder and the rub of the cuffs on her wrists distracted her a bit, but he demanded her attention. With a damn look. It was…uncanny. She’d never felt the urge to kneel just from the way a man studied her, but she felt it now.

  The desire to curl around him, rest her head on his knee and offer up her submission was a strange place to be. Since her break-up, she’d wondered if she’d ever be able to trust another man again with such complete control. Her reaction to Veles certainly proved she was capable, but she didn’t know if she was ready.

  Veles turned to the table and set several tall pillar candles on one side and lit them one by one. She stared at the flickering flames and relaxed a tiny bit, letting the crowd fade away. Usually she liked being the center of attention, but not tonight.

  Tonight was about finding pleasure. It was about taking back that last piece of herself so she could feel whole again.

  Veles stepped between her and the candles. She glanced at his face, and the rest of the room faded away to a distant murmur.

  He crossed to her, his gaze never leaving her face. She was vaguely aware that he’d rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and now wore gloves. Or, a glove. He cupped her face with his bare hand. They began to sway from side to side, listening to a rhythm that existed only between them. He cupped her breast with his gloved hand and she gasped as it—vibrated.

  Someone nearby laughed loudly, and she flinched as her concentration broke.

  “Don’t look. Keep your eyes on me,” he whispered.

  She nodded as he palmed one breast, then the other. The vibrations stimulated her nipples through the thin pasties. She kicked one foot up and her whole body shook as the first, delicious tendrils of arousal twirled around her. He flattened the glove between her small breasts. She could feel the vibrations in her skin, in her muscles, and into her bones. It created a warm, pleasant sensation through her whole body.

  “Take a deep breath now, okay?” he whispered.

  Their faces were closer together now. He filled her field of vision, blocking out the crowd.

  Rosaline nodded and inhaled deeply.

  He let go of her face, but his gaze remained locked with hers. He grasped her nipple through the pasty and clamped a clothespin on the hardened nub.

  She tossed her head back and squealed as the first, sharp stab of pressure sent arousal pumping through her veins. It didn’t hurt, at least not in this fuzzy state of near-subspace.

  “That’s my girl,” he muttered, stroking her stomach with the glove. “Deep breath. One more time.”

  She did as he asked, squeezing her eyes shut and waiting for it. And waiting. Well what the heck was he doing?

  Rosaline pried one eye open. He still watched her. She opened both her eyes, puzzled. He cupped her breast from the bottom, holding it with his gloved hand. When he squeezed, the intensity of it was increased. She groaned as her clit began to throb. She balanced on one foot, while pressing her thighs together.

  He held her gaze while he fastened the second clothespin to her nipple.

  “You have to stay here. With me.” He gentled his hold on her, stroking his gloved hand over her ribs and stomach. “Understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  His girl? She wasn’t, but she liked the fantasy of it. He was…intense, to a degree she’d never dabbled with before. He was the kind of man who would burrow inside of her and investigate all her dark corners.

  Veles stepped back and pulled out a bundle of rope from the bag. She watched him extract the ends and let the bundle drop and unroll at his feet. He circled her until he stood at her back, his chest against her. She leaned into him, pressing her hips to his pelvis. There would be no regrets about this decision.

  He brought the rope in front of her, holding it between both hands and slid the length up and down her stomach and hips. It was a rough, slightly scratchy rope. Not entirely unpleasant, but different.

  She could feel the rhythm of his breathing, and found herself taking breaths right along with him as they continued to sway, bodies pressed together.

  He placed his gloved hand on her shoulder, trapping the rope against her skin. With his other hand, he began pulling the rope between her breasts and then under one. She let her head drop back, focused only on the teasing vibrations and sensual glide of the rope. He twined it around her body, not at all how a person performing rope bondage might. He didn’t use pretty knots or bind her body with it. Instead, he twisted and twined it around her chest, hips, and down one leg with no rhyme or reason behind the design.

  Her existence focused only on the man at her back and how he made her feel. Nothing else mattered. And as far as she was concerned, that was all there was. It was a narrowed state of awareness, where words lost meaning, sight and sound became colors, and the only thing that counted was what he allowed her to feel, because he was master here.

  She breathed easier, embracing the comforting abyss of subspace, stretching herself to fill up the space and soak it up.

  Ve
les cradled her, one arm around her waist as his gloved hand coasted over her body. He drew circles on her breasts, toying with her bound nipples, flicking the clamps. It was truly a magic glove. His grip on her tightened as the path of his hand went lower, over her stomach, down her hips until he splayed his glove over the apex of her thighs. He pressed the heel of his hand against her mound, and she gasped as the vibrations intensified.

  Rosaline whimpered and ground her ass against him.

  “I know you like to put on a show. Have all these people watch you. Isn’t that right?” Veles whispered.

  She nodded. There was something about being watched and desired that had always pressed her buttons. And yet, the crowd didn’t exist. She couldn’t even open an eye to register there were other people in the room.

  “What do you think they’re thinking right now?” He slid his palm up, just a little so her mound fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. The vibrations seeped into her skin until she felt them in her bones.

  Rosaline didn’t give a flying fuck what anyone else thought about her right now. All she cared about was getting him to touch her a little lower, a little harder. There was a very good chance she might come from a little more pressure, the right touch. Her self-enforced celibacy had extended to not touching herself or using toys. Her last orgasm was well over seven months ago, and long before her relationship crumbled. Her body ached for release.

  “You’re so beautiful right now.” Veles kissed her cheek and withdrew the glove, leaving her on the knife’s edge of pleasure, a moment from release.

  She wailed. Words were beyond her. She couldn’t speak.

  Veles backed away from her, toward the table, a sly smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He knew exactly what he was doing. She wasn’t sure if she should hate him or love him for that kind of control.

  He pulled the glove off and tossed it on the table. She didn’t quite mourn its loss. Sure, an orgasm would be wonderful, but she was beginning to crave this man more than any toy. Later, she’d come with him deep inside of her, and she’d enjoy every second of it.