by Avery Gale
“It was a first for me, too. I’m on birth control, and I’m clean, also. I don’t have a lot of experience, but I remember I hated the way latex felt inside me. You felt…well, you felt so much better. Much hotter. Sexier.”
“All the more reason to for us to forgo having sex at the club. Condoms are required, even in the private rooms, and I don’t want anything between us when I’m inside you.” In truth, Rafe wasn’t sure he’d be able to give up the intimacy of being skin to skin when he made love to Reagan. Made love to? Since when did he think of sex as making love?
He’d never considered sex anything but a purely physical connection—and God knew he’d connected with a lot of women over the years. But none of them had touched his soul the way Reagan had. Something deep inside him had recognized she was special the first time he saw her. That was the reason he’d been so hesitant to engage her. He’d instinctively recognized he’d only get one shot, and he’d made sure he was ready before asking her to dinner.
During a conversation with his father a few days earlier, Rafe had asked his dad when he’d known his mom was “the one.” His dad had chuckled, but he hadn’t answered right away, and Rafe appreciated him taking the time to choose his words carefully.
“I knew the first time I laid eyes on her. I’m not saying it was love at first sight, because true love takes time to develop, but I recognized my soul’s response to her immediately. That probably sounds cliché, but it’s the God’s truth.”
Their conversation had veered in another direction, but before he disconnected, his dad offered a bit of parting wisdom as he often did. “Some opportunities are only offered once, son. And it’s damned hard to live with regrets.” Those words replayed in his mind again as held Reagan wrapped in his arms. He’d always expected to marry someday, but for some reason, he assumed the realization that the woman he was dating was the one would be made over the course of months, perhaps years. And he’d certainly never expected his heart to make the decision so easily.
Feeling Reagan’s body go lax in his arms, the steady rise and fall of her chest pushed her breast against his palm as if taunting him to acknowledge the truth. Rafe had never let fear hold him back, and he wasn’t going to start now. Just because you didn’t see it coming doesn’t mean it isn’t real.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Reagan wasn’t sure where Rafe had gotten the dress—personally, she considered that a very liberal use of the term—he’d given her to wear this evening at the club. Thank God, he’d given her one of his coats to wear over the nearly transparent bit of fabric or she’d have probably been arrested before they ever arrived. “You’re mumbling, Peach.”
“Sorry, sir, but I think the cold wind blowing up your coat might have turned my pink bits blue.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Reagan suspected she’d made a mistake. She saw his eyes darken as a mischievous smile curved his lips and realized how monumental that mistake had been. We’ve barely made it through the front door of the club, and I’m already in trouble. It’s going to be a very long night.
“You’re mumbling again. Tell me what you just said.” He’d turned to her, and the look on his face silenced any argument she might have tried. Rafe listened and his expression softened when she repeated what she’d thought had only been spoken in her head. “You’re not in trouble, love. At least not in the way you’re thinking. But I am planning to make sure your lovely pink bits, as you refer to them, haven’t been irreparably harmed by Mother Nature’s first winter tantrum.”
She felt her face flush scarlet and wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. “Hand me the coat, Reagan.” Without letting her gaze stray from his, she untied the belt at her waist. It was the only thing holding the coat closed since he demanded she keep it open and her dress pulled up to her waist during the short drive to the club. The car had been warm, but walking across the parking lot had seemed almost endless. “You know, if you hadn’t distracted me before we left the house, we’d have arrived early enough to find a much closer place to park. If I find your bits really are blue, I’m going to insist Nate and Taz offer valet service in the future.”
She could tell that he was teasing her, but that didn’t stop her from shuddering at the realization he planned to inspect her right here in the club’s crowded entrance. “Why do we need valet service?” Taz’s voice sounded over her right shoulder, and she unconsciously looked to the floor, hoping to find that hole.
His booming laughter startled her, and she groaned at the knowledge he’d heard her thoughts. I really do feel sorry for Kodi.
“Don’t. She holds her own just fine.” Reagan barely registered when Rafe pulled the coat from her shoulders and handed it to the receptionist. Taz continued to watch her closely before finally speaking. “Now, tell me why you’re hoping the floor opens up under your feet.”
“I think it’s my best hope for getting out of this with any dignity, Sir.” Might as well just put it out there. The rat probably already knows the truth anyway.
Rafe’s brow lifted, but she saw the light of amusement in his eyes. “Reagan is worried the frigid air blowing up her dress has turned her pink bits blue. I merely want to check to make sure she isn’t in need of medical attention.” It took every bit of control she could muster to not roll her eyes at his overly dramatic remark. Geez, talk about hamming it up for an audience.
“Well, I can certainly see where that would be worrisome. And possibly a liability issue for the club, as well. In that case, I think you should lift her up on the counter and have a look.” Reagan stopped breathing. The counter in front of them was high. Very high. If they set her up there and ordered her to spread her legs, her pussy was going to be practically eye level for everyone standing around watching.
Before she’d finished the horror show playing so vividly in her mind, it became reality. Rafe easily lifted her onto the cold marble, making her shiver. He stepped back, the command ringing out loud and clear. “Lift your dress and spread your legs, Peach.” She blinked several times, but before her gaze could move around the room, his voice centered her. “Look only at me, Reagan. I’m your Master. Therefore, I’m the only one you need to be concerned with.” Those few words were all she needed to find her courage. Lifting the front of her dress to her waist…not far since it had barely been decent to begin with, she spread her legs.
“They don’t look blue to me. As a matter of fact, I’d say they are actually a very lovely shade of rose.”
“Nice and shiny, too. I think your sub might be a bit of an exhibitionist, Master Rafe. That’s probably something you’ll enjoy exploring with her.” The teasing in Taz’s tone wasn’t lost on her, but she didn’t look to see if he was smiling. Her gaze was riveted to Rafe’s. She watched his eyes raise and lower as his focus shifted between her eyes and her sex. He was standing several feet in front of her, but the heat in his eyes felt like a warm caress.
“I believe you are right. And I must say, I’m relieved she doesn’t seem to be suffering from any constriction, either. Those swollen tissues indicate a nice healthy blood flow to the region.” She ached to close her legs when she heard murmurs of approval around the room. Rafe turned to the man standing to his left and nodded. “I agree, she’s perfect. And I’m damned lucky that she’s mine.”
Reagan didn’t recognize the man, and even though Rafe seemed to know him, she didn’t get the impression they were friends. The man’s response was too quiet for her to hear, but Rafe’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. He stepped forward, sheltering her from view as he turned to the man who was now grinning like a stooge. “I’ll be watching, Rafe. All’s fair in love and war, you know?” He walked away, but not before giving her a wink she suspected had very little to do with flirting. The man was deliberately trying to provoke Rafe, but she didn’t know why.
Taz chuckled beside them. “As I recall, the two of you used to be friendlier.”
“He’s an ass. He’s always been an ass. He is just better at hidi
ng it during certain phases of the moon.”
“I’ll admit he can be snarly at times, but I’m not convinced he’s a werewolf.” Kodi’s sweet voice came from behind her, but when Reagan started to turn, Rafe’s warm hand atop her thigh kept her in place.
“You do not have permission to move. And I’d encourage you to ignore Kodi’s assessment. She’d do well to steer clear of my cousin.” Cousin? “Yes, cousin. He’s been a pain in the ass since he was a kid. The only reason he’s still alive is because I adore my aunt.”
Rafe lifted Reagan from the counter and set her on her feet. When she leaned forward to press a kiss against his cheek, his chest tightened. “I think there is a very sweet man lurking inside you, Master.”
Leaning close, he kissed the sensitive spot he’d discovered behind her ear. “I hope you still feel the same way at the end of the evening, Peach.” Pulling back, he took her hand. “Come.” He led her into the club’s main room where they met Nate standing like a sentry.
“I’d like a word with Reagan before you begin.” It didn’t escape Rafe’s attention that the club owner hadn’t asked, nor had he referred to Reagan as his submissive. And whose fault is that? You’ve already been reminded once this evening that she isn’t wearing a collar.
He kissed Reagan before skimming his fingers down her arm to encircle her wrist. Lifting her hand, he kissed her palm and smiled when she turned her hand to press it against his cheek. The tenderness of her touch matched that in her eyes, and he suddenly wished they were back home, enjoying the privacy of his playroom. But he’d promised to teach her, and this part of the lifestyle he wasn’t sure he could give up, so it was certainly something she needed to experience. He couldn’t expect her to make an informed decision later this evening unless she’d been given at least a taste of what it would mean to belong to him.
“I’ll get us something to drink. We’ll begin as soon as Master Nate is satisfied you’re here of your own free will.” He could tell his words surprised her, and it pleased him to know she couldn’t imagine anyone thinking differently. Nodding to Nate, he turned and walked away, surprised at how difficult it was to leave her in the other man’s care.
When he approached the bar, Mistress Ann gave him a warm smile. “He’s just doing his job, Rafe. He’ll make sure she knows her safe word and when to use it. He trusts you, but as her employer, he feels a certain responsibility for her.” Rafe didn’t respond, because he understood, but it still chafed at his pride. In all his years as a Dom, he’d never failed to heed a safe word.
“Take it from me, it’s a lot harder to process a sub’s safe word when you’re in love with them.”
“What do you mean?” Her words struck him as completely inverse of what he’d have assumed.
“You hear better with your head than your heart, Rafe. It’s much easier to become caught up in the passion when your heart is involved.”
Nate stepped back from Reagan and smiled as he approached the bar. “You’re good to go. Any changes I need to be aware of?”
“No.” They’d spoken on the phone that afternoon; Nate and Taz both made suggestions, and he’d appreciated their input. He wanted this scene to be intense, but not overwhelming for Reagan. He hadn’t worked with a newbie for a long time, and never one who’d been as traumatized as Reagan. Taz would be standing nearby to monitor what was going through her head, but he’d promised he wouldn’t interfere unless her mental or physical safety was at stake.
Rafe led her to the small stage at the back of the main room, a small select group of spectators was already present. When he felt her steps falter, he stopped and turned her to face him. “Do you trust me, Reagan?”
“Yes, Sir.” She hadn’t hesitated, her answer filled with confidence.
“You have a safe word, but I don’t intend for you to need it. The punishment you had last night was harsher than what you’ll experience tonight.” Because the paddle he’d chosen would spread the force out over a wider area than his hand, and tonight, the real punishment was going to be testing her boundaries. Correcting a sub’s behavior didn’t always involve impact play.
He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her up onto the stage. He heard her soft gasp when she saw the spanking bench. “Come on. I want to get your punishment out of the way, first. I have something much more enjoyable planned for later.” At least he hoped she’d find it enjoyable. He was taking a huge risk, planning something so unexpected, but he wasn’t about to turn back now.
“Do you know why I’m not asking you to strip, Peach?” He’d chosen a dress that would give him the access he needed, but would still give her some illusion of being covered. Tonight was about pushing boundaries, not shattering them.
She nervously fingered the hem of her dress and nodded. When he frowned, she whispered, “They’re going to be able to see everything anyway, because this dress is so short.”
“Yes, it is and it has a special feature I don’t believe you’ve noticed yet.” He pulled a small set of nipple clamps from his pocket and held them out for her to see. Her chocolate colored eyes went wide but she didn’t make a sound until he reached between the folds of the dress. When he found the slit she hadn’t noticed, he pushed the fabric apart, baring her breasts to his view.
Rolling first one nipple and then the other between his fingers, he had the clamps on within seconds. Damn, he loved how responsive she was to his touch. The clamps he’d chosen were mild by anyone’s standards, but they’d be enough to distract her while he moved her into position. She was quivering by the time he’d secured the last of the restraints, and he grinned when he ran his fingers through the drenched folds of her sex.
Turning to the audience, he announced. “My lovely submissive didn’t believe she would enjoy being bare to your view.” Holding up his soaked fingers, he added, “I think she’s wrong. What do you think?” Cheers went up, along with a couple of wolf whistles, which he suspected were from her friends rather than their Masters.
He’d chosen a large, round paddle. The slaps would sound vicious, but the pain would be negligible. Squatting down so he could look into her eyes, his heart stuttered when he saw tears already pooling in their terrified depths. “Reagan, you have a safe word. Do you want to use it?” He hoped she wouldn’t because he was sure she would always regret not taking this chance. But the choice had to be hers, and he waited patiently while she pulled herself together.
“No, Sir. I’m fine. Seeing your face helps.”
For the first time since he’d become a Dom, Rafe dreaded a punishment. Not because she hadn’t earned it—she certainly had. But because his heart wanted to do something else entirely. Mistress Ann’s words replayed in his ears, and he made a mental note to thank her later for her wisdom.
“Ten swats. I want you to remember this. I’d have much preferred you’d been out of position when I arrived and had taken the time to retrieve your phone.” When she nodded, he grinned. “You’ll make a better choice next time. Do not come until I give you permission.” The look she gave him would earn her additional swats later in their relationship, but today, it made him laugh. “You were already drenched, baby. Trust me when I tell you, holding back your orgasm is going to be harder than enduring the slaps against your very fine ass.”
After a brief, vague explanation to the audience, he raised the paddle and landed the first swat. He hadn’t warned her because he didn’t want her to tense up. Her anticipation of the pain would have been far worse than reality. Rafe heard her gasp, but she didn’t make another sound. “Don’t concern yourself with the count, baby. That’s my job. I want you to focus on how your body feels, not the way you think it should feel.”
By the time he was almost finished, he could see her juices running down the insides of her thighs. The paddle had a lovely wet spot, and he was considering framing it. He’d love to hang in in his playroom as a memento of his sub’s first public scene. Maybe a nice engraved gold placard to make sure they never forgot the occasion o
r date. Reagan’s ass was hot pink, but her soft gasping breaths and the way her body strained upward in anticipation, telling him she wasn’t in any real pain.
Moving to once again squat down in front of her, Rafe was thrilled to see her eyes glazed over with desire. She was battling valiantly to hold back her release, and if her panting breaths were any indication, she was awfully close to losing the battle. “Two more, Peach. After the second one, I’ll give you the command to come.” He didn’t wait for her to acknowledge his words, even though he probably should have. For the first time ever, Rafe was out of patience. All he could think about was giving her the release she so desperately needed and finishing the scene.
The ninth swat was much harsher than the previous eight, and he knew she’d felt the difference when she screamed, “Please.” Her ass might feel like it was on fire, but her body was no longer able to distinguish between pleasure and pain.
He let her thoughts tumble over for several seconds as he caressed the fiery cheeks of her ass. The gush of her sweet syrup when he slid his fingers between her swollen folds told him she was teetering on the edge of a cataclysmic orgasm. It probably should embarrass him realizing how much pleasure he gained from that knowledge, but all he could think about was shoving himself balls deep and send them both into oblivion.
Letting the paddle clatter to the floor, Rafe slapped his hand directly atop her sex and growled against her ear, “Come for me, Peach.” Plunging his fingers into her slick heat, he had no trouble finding her sweet spot. Her vaginal walls were already gripping him with a strength that made him nearly come in his damned pants. With one firm press against her G-spot, Reagan flew directly into a second, even stronger, orgasm. Using her natural lubrication, he circles her anus several times before pushing inside.
The penetration sent her over a third time, this one more intense than the previous two. Her body glistened under the lights from the sheen of sweat, and he’d need to make certain she was properly cooled down and dry before bundling her into his car. It’s going to be a record breaking trip up the mountain. I hope Brandt Morgan isn’t anywhere around.
