FatalSubmission

by Nicole Austin

  She held her breath, afraid to breathe until he gave her a slight nod, allowing her to relax marginally.

  The thought of spending several hellish hours once again filling out the checklist drove her crazy. Still, she knew the reward would be worth it. Her instincts told her what they did together would go beyond mere playtime to become something real and possibly lasting. She’d go home, get out her trusty vibrator and ease the physical needs until he finally fucked her.

  “Good. Give the list careful thought then call me when you’ve completed it.”

  She nodded eagerly.

  “And, Claire.”

  Uh-oh, she sensed a “but” in those words.

  “As of this moment, no sex. That includes masturbation. You will not get yourself off and you will not allow anyone else to touch you sexually. You will orgasm only with my permission.”

  He stared deep into her eyes, making her feel as if he saw right into her soul. “Be very clear on this. I will know if you’ve disobeyed me and you will be punished. Understand?”

  Punished? How would Mason punish her? A flogging? It might be worth defying his rules to find out what he’d do. And how the hell would he know anyway?

  He leaned forward again, dwarfing the small round table with his huge body, coming nearly nose to nose with her. “Don’t doubt me, Claire. I will know and your punishment will not be something you enjoy.”

  Shivers raced through her with the conviction in his voice. “I understand.” She gave him the words, having already learned that Mason would not accept a nod when giving her instructions. He expected her to voice clear comprehension. “No sex, no orgasms or I’ll be punished before we even get started.” She barely managed to bite back a groan.

  He gifted her with another dazzling smile. “Not much longer, Claire. Behave for a little while and you will get a reward you’ll never forget.”

  She didn’t doubt his sincerity or ability to deliver on his promise. And that’s how she saw it—a promise, not a threat.

  * * * * *

  Mason Burke couldn’t help smiling with pride as he gazed at the fancy stenciled sign above the door to B&E Security. When he’d been in the Corps, owning a private security business hadn’t even been on his radar. Leading his team with longtime friend Cameron Elliot had been what he lived for.

  Then Cam had been shot and everything changed for Mason. The thrill had gone out of serving. Cam had come up with the idea for the business during his grueling rehab sessions. When the time came for Mason to reenlist, it hadn’t taken much effort for Cam to convince him to become his business partner. It had taken a lot of hard work and they’d gone through several lean years but B&E thrived, providing them with a great income and work they enjoyed.

  “Hey, Mase,” Laurie Elliot greeted as he stepped into the building. “How’d the date go?”

  Eager for details, the petite blonde practically ran to keep up, following him right into his office. She meant well but drove him nuts with her matchmaking.

  Mason set his briefcase on his desk and dropped into his chair with a sigh. “You really need to tone it down, Laurie.”

  “Huh?” She blinked a few times and gave him a blank stare.

  “Just because you are crazy in love doesn’t mean the rest of us want to join in the insanity.”

  “Oh.” She beamed at him and waved off his comment. “So how’d it go? Are you two going to have a play date soon?”

  Cam strolled in with only a slight visible hitch to his walk and flashed an indulgent smile at his wife/submissive. Without a word, he folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall.

  Reclining in his chair, Mason propped his feet on the desk next to his briefcase. “I gave her a new checklist and instructed her to start over.”

  Laurie’s smile faltered. “What? Why?”

  “Because Claire is a lot like you.” Laurie’s smile widened for a moment before turning to a scowl as he continued. “Impatient, inexperienced and naïve.” At least until Cam found and trained her to be his submissive.

  Mason rubbed a hand over his head, the bristly stubble abrading his palm. “Submitting has been a game to Claire and she didn’t take the checklist seriously. Anything she didn’t recognize or had not experienced, she marked as a hard no.”

  “Are you sure she’s a sub?”

  Laurie’s question had merit and was one he’d asked himself. Spending time with Claire over the past few weeks and paying careful attention to her responses had put any doubt to rest. “She’s definitely a sub but she’s only played at it. She’s never been with a real Dom or taken part in a true BDSM scene. She has no discipline.”

  He’d learned the hard way not to rush with an untrained sub. The potential for causing permanent harm was too great. Laurie knew this from firsthand experience when she’d pushed Cam. Their relationship had nearly ended but the pair worked hard to establish trust and in doing so found enduring love.

  Cam nodded. “Slow and steady is good but not too slow or you risk losing her interest.”

  Having the agreement of a Dom he respected reassured Mason and bolstered his determination.

  The phone rang out front and Laurie fidgeted, clearly not wanting to leave the conversation.

  “Laurie.”

  Hearing her name spoken in that soft, implacable tone of Cam’s was all it took. She quickly headed toward her desk, eyes downcast.

  A painful shard of envy pierced Mason’s chest. He didn’t begrudge Cam and Laurie their happiness. They had what he wanted—a loving, committed D/s marriage. Someone with similar interests to love, take care of and share his life with. Claire was everything he’d ever wanted all wrapped up in one seductive package. He had to stay in control, be patient and get this right for both their sakes.

  Cam sat in one of the leather chairs facing Mason’s desk and began discussing work issues. He tried to pay attention but his thoughts kept straying to Claire. Was she even now working on the checklist and getting hot as she considered how to answer? Would she misbehave and get herself off, earning a punishment?

  Oh how he’d enjoy punishing her. He’d strip the clothes from her generous curves, tease and clamp her nipples and restrain her bent over the spanking bench with her round ass sticking up. All that thick, long mahogany hair would curtain her face and he’d have to pull it out of the way to watch her expression. Claire didn’t have a poker face and her emotions were easy to read.

  Mason wouldn’t use a paddle, not the first time. He wanted to feel her skin get hot beneath his hands as the generous globes jiggled with each swat. Fucking her lush rear was on the top of his to-do list, right beneath sliding his cock between those pouty pink lips.

  And he had the odd desire to make love to Claire without dominating her. Just the two of them kissing, touching, her silky hair teasing his skin. A hefty scoop of plain old vanilla. The mere idea should have him running for the hills but it didn’t. Not where Claire was concerned. He longed to hold her in his arms and get her lush body beneath him.

  A solid thump pulled him from his thoughts only to discover Cam had left, closing the door behind him on his way out, and Mason couldn’t remember a single word his friend had said. Having gone through a similar experience himself, Cam would understand.

  Not rushing straight into sex with Claire was becoming harder by the minute, along with his cock. Mason readjusted his painful erection within his jeans and huffed out a hard breath.

  Christ, she needed to hurry up and finish the checklist before lust and need drove him out of his mind. His normal patience had disappeared. Mason didn’t want to wait anymore.

  Waiting sucks.

  Chapter Two

  Sex. By far the easiest, most appealing section on the infernal checklist. Her response—an enthusiastic yes, sex would be good. Very good. The sooner they got naked and sweaty the better. Most of the entries received a mark in the yes or maybe columns while orgies earned a hard no.

  Claire shuddered as her head filled with images
of bodies—male and female—writhing around in one massive pile, arms and legs twisted together in a confused tangle. She figured in an orgy she could end up with another woman eating her out and never know. And she sure wouldn’t know whose cock thrust into her.

  No thanks. Definitely not something she wanted to participate in.

  The bondage part raised a few questions, along with her heart rate. What the hell was mental bondage? Claire had no idea or interest in mind games and clearly stated so in the comments section. Caging had her imagining being curled up in some metal animal crate and became a hard no, as did mummification. Ick! Suspension, on the other hand, drew her curiosity. She got a great visual of Mason wrapping her in elaborate knots and hanging her from large hooks in the ceiling, licking her all over then fucking her ten ways to Sunday.

  Suspension got double check marks under the yes column.

  Every single item under the S&M heading got hard nos. Pain and freakiness were not for her. This time she wrote a detailed note in the comments concerning her aversion to pain, although she did enjoy a nice spanking to heat up her rear.

  The fetish portion had her scowling. Boot worship, branding, catheterization, enemas? Holy crap, literally. How disgusting. The only things she marked yes for were costumes and erotic dancing.

  Now role-playing. With few exceptions, Claire liked this section. Still, a few of the items had her shuddering in revulsion. Rape as a fantasy? People were strange. And pony play?

  “What the hell is pony play,” she muttered, not remembering it from the first checklist.

  A sensual masculine chuckle had a hot flush rising from her breasts, over her neck and into her cheeks. From her position on the park bench hunched over her clipboard, Claire lifted only her gaze to the figure a mere foot in front of her.

  Expensive-looking leather loafers, black dress pants with a razor-sharp crease down the center of each long leg. What had to be a designer belt drew attention to his trim hips and the impressive package at his groin. A fancy camera dangled negligently from one hand.

  Her gaze drifted higher of its own volition, noting the charcoal-gray dress shirt with a few buttons left open to show off a sprinkling of dark chest hair beneath broad shoulders. All in all it was a lean, fit body and viewing it had a wave of heat rolling through her. When she finally took in his beautiful face, Claire’s spine snapped straight and she did a double take.

  The guy had to be a model, because she’d never seen such a beautiful, angular face that wasn’t gracing the pages of a magazine. Thick and wavy dark-blond hair had been smoothed back but refused to be tamed. A few days’ beard stubble darkened a square jaw, giving the man a rakish air. Broad, unlined forehead, slightly arched eyebrows, nose a perfect straight slash above the most sensual lips just made for kissing. And those lips were bracketed by a pair of sexy dimples. She was a sucker for dimples.

  But his eyes— Claire sucked in a hard breath. Good Lord, he had the most incredible eyes. Brown so dark they almost appeared black glittered with a mixture of amusement and lust. They were mesmerizing eyes that drew her in and held Claire’s attention. The kind of eyes a woman would willingly drown in.

  And his scent. She took a deep breath, catching a light whiff of Polo cologne in the air. Yum.

  “Pony play is rather extreme.”

  She should be mortified he’d overheard but something about him put her at ease. He moved to the end of the bench with the fluid grace of a panther stalking its prey and sat down, angling his gorgeous body toward her. Claire tried to come up with something intelligent to say but her tongue refused to cooperate, having stuck to the roof of her suddenly dry mouth.

  “You should ask your Dominant if you have questions about entries on your limit list, love.”

  She didn’t know much about accents but his, wherever Mr. Gorgeous was from, did it for her. The waves of heat grew stronger, swelling and tightening her breasts and shooting tingles of awareness down to her pussy, which went soft and wet.

  “I…uh…”

  He arched an eyebrow and cocked his head to one side as Claire floundered.

  “I’m sorry. How very presumptuous of me. I didn’t even introduce myself.” He flashed a flirty smile that would have knocked Claire on her ass if she hadn’t already been sitting, and extended a hand.

  Lord, even his hand was perfect with long, slender fingers and manicured nails. And warm. So warm when he held her hand in a firm grip, his thumb idly stroking the pulse point on her wrist, increasing her arousal. If Mason didn’t get around to the sex soon the need might kill her.

  Mason. Her Dominant.

  A shard of guilt had Claire jerking her hand away from the hunk. Yes, Mason should be helping her with his infernal checklist, not some stranger in the park.

  “Hush now, little one. There’s nothing to get upset over. My name is Carl Skinner. Dr. Skinner. I’m a psychologist.”

  Oh a doctor, figured. Although he didn’t look like a Carl to her.

  “Claire Hanson, real estate appraiser.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Claire. I should mention that I am also a Dominant, which is why your talk of pony play captured my undivided consideration.”

  He winked and Claire felt herself dissolve into a pliant mass of goo. Never in a million years would she have imagined meeting a Dominant out and about in public. She gave him another quick yet thorough once-over, amending her assessment. A rich, sexy, hot-as-all-get-out, intellectual Dominant. Meeting Dr. Skinner was like hitting the lottery only better. So much better.

  “I…um, I messed up the first list and my er…” The words escaped her as Claire tried to determine Mason’s role in her life. He wasn’t actually her Dom…yet. They’d kissed a few times, bone-melting kisses that left her both breathless, but nothing more. For the most part they’d talked.

  Carl nodded as if he understood her silent struggle. He went on to prove he understood a lot more than she did.

  “Ah, I see. You haven’t played with this Dominant yet. He’s moving slow, taking his time getting to know you first.” He shrugged. “A valid approach, although a bit excessive.”

  Yes, exactly what she thought.

  Carl held out a hand. “May I take a glance at your list? I’m betting it’s rather extensive.”

  “More than three hundred entries,” she huffed. “I spent forever filling the first one out and Mason didn’t think I’d taken it seriously.”

  She angled toward Carl and handed over the list, watching his expression as he scanned the pages then returned the papers and regarded her silently. His silence was killing her. What did he think of the list? He hadn’t taken the time to read her detailed comments. How much of her preferences had he noted?

  “I prefer a less formal approach. In my experience, you learn much more in talking with a submissive rather than having her fill out a laundry list of likes and dislikes.”

  He really is perfect. If only Mason would talk to her instead of insisting on the stupid checklist.

  Carl sat back and stared into her eyes for several long moments that got her heart beating faster. When he spoke again, Claire felt as if his dark and sultry voice stroked over her skin, bringing every nerve ending to sizzling awareness.

  “Pony play is not something I’d even bring up as it’s not to my taste and I doubt you would be interested in wearing a bridle or horsehair butt plug.”

  A what? Where?

  His soft chuckle let her know that Carl had no trouble reading her shocked expression.

  “Exactly. No, Claire, I believe you are not interested in a full-time strict D/s relationship. You have a career that keeps you busy and are more than competent in managing your own decisions regarding everyday life. I believe what you want is someone to take control during sex, allowing you to relax and decompress.”

  Wow. How could a stranger know so much about her after a few minutes? Carl didn’t need a checklist. She bet he’d be ready and willing to play without any big delay too. But she couldn’t easily turn her
back on Mason. Not when she ached for him.

  Ever perceptive, Carl caught on quick. He got her with no need for lengthy explanations. They talked as if they were old friends until he reluctantly left to fulfill a prior commitment. The man was beyond smart. In the hour they’d talked, she learned that he held a PhD in psychology and had studied at U of I.

  And he had a dungeon in his basement. Be still my heart!

  Visions of St. Andrew’s Crosses and spanking benches danced in her head as she considered playing in a private dungeon. She shuddered in revulsion at memories of being dominated at a public BDSM meeting. Feeling all the eyes on her naked body creeped her out and the scene had been a complete disaster.

  Her body hummed with arousal long after she finished her last appraisal of the day and headed home. The mere idea someone like Carl wanted her was a heady rush leaving her giddy and horny. He’d been sad and disappointed they couldn’t head right to his house. But he insisted she see how things went with Mason first, although he had given her his phone number and told Claire to call when she was available to play. Not if but when.

  The two men were total opposites yet both appealed to her. Mason was big, rugged and all hard edges compared to Carl who was sleek, elegant and refined. Where Mason was careful and methodical, Carl was spontaneous and exciting.

  Claire was ready to play with someone. If Mason didn’t get his firm ass in gear soon, she’d take Carl up on his offer. After all, how often would she get a shot at a gorgeous, smart, charming, rich Dominant?

  About as often as she’d make it to the moon.

  Never.

  As she fumbled her key in the door, Claire heard the incessantly ringing phone. Knowing her luck she’d get to it just as the caller hung up. Dropping her clipboard and keys on the couch, she grabbed the cordless phone and panted a breathless hello.

  “Have you been bad, Claire?”

  Crap.

  Mason spoke in the deep yet soft tone she thought of as his Dom voice that let her know she was in trouble.