FatalSubmission

by Nicole Austin

  Lord, how she needed to forget the bad memories and make new ones. Good ones. With Mason.

  Laurie nodded. “You’re on the right track but one talk with your therapist isn’t going to do it. You have to take the bull by the horns, Claire.”

  “How?” she huffed. “I’ve teased and tempted him endlessly. Mason has incredible willpower and resistance. I push him and he completely ignores what we both want, treating me as if I’ll break the first time he issues a command.”

  “Honey, men are visual, primal creatures. Give him what he can’t possibly resist.”

  Claire blew at her long bangs again. “The man is made of steel. What am I supposed to do? Strip, drop to my knees then beg him to tie me up and fuck me blind?”

  Laurie tapped her index finger against her temple then pointed the digit at Claire. A cold shiver raced along her spine and she struggled to remain seated. The gesture looked too similar to a gun being pointed at her. Taking a deep breath, she shoved the thought aside and focused on her friend.

  “You really think that would work?”

  Laurie’s laughter went a long way to easing Claire’s apprehension. “What red-blooded, dominant male could resist a naked submissive on her knees begging?”

  Getting Mason to dominate her couldn’t be that simple, could it?

  “Never fails to work on Cam.” Laurie’s saucy grin spoke volumes.

  Her own grin returned as ideas and images zoomed through Claire’s head. To ensure success, she’d take it a step further. When she went to his house for dinner tonight, Mason was in for one hell of a surprise. Laurie was right. Who said the Dom had to call the shots? Why couldn’t an anxious submissive go after what she desired?

  “And here’s the big secret about D/s. While the Dom is the one in charge, the submissive is the one with the power. A Dom will jump through hoops to give his sub what she needs and all the pleasure she can handle. You don’t think the Dom dictates the scene, do you?”

  “Well…yeah.”

  “Wrong. Think about it, Claire. What’s a Dom do? He closely monitors his sub’s responses, which direct him what to do next. You make a sound when doing so has been forbidden and you earn a lovely spanking or some other punishment. You behave as instructed and you get your orgasm quicker. You want him to get around to fucking you sooner rather than later, you beg. So ultimately—”

  Claire smacked her forehead with her open palm. “Ultimately it’s the sub calling the shots.”

  “Exactly!” That finger-gun pointed at her again. Only this time her shiver came from the delicious thrill of anticipation.

  * * * * *

  Since his meeting with the therapist, Mason had thought of nothing but the future. One he wasn’t sure would include the woman he loved.

  Patrice had made it clear she believed Claire had bounced back well and there was no reason not to include the dominance and submission they both craved in their relationship. Their very vanilla relationship.

  The therapist had made Mason see he wouldn’t be happy for long while suppressing the dominance that was such an intricate part of him. Eventually, he’d come to resent Claire and look elsewhere to satisfy his dominant urges.

  He knew several Doms who had “normal” relationships with their spouses and went outside the marriage for their less conventional needs. Mason considered that infidelity, something he wouldn’t even consider doing. Open relationships weren’t for him.

  Which left him with a lose-lose decision to make. Either stay with the woman he loved and live half a life or give up love for a meaningless string of D/s scenes. Both options sucked.

  He prayed Daniel Winters burned in the fiery pits of hell for his many sins.

  What if Patrice was right and he could have it all? Dare he take a risk and attempt to dominate Claire? She had such incredible inner strength and had taken huge leaps toward leaving the horrors of her torture behind.

  But how quickly would her strength crumble should he restrain and flog her? Would he reopen the freshly healed wounds and leave behind deep, irreparable scars? The thought of causing her harm tore his heart to shreds.

  Claire said she wanted to submit to him. Could he put his trust in what she said and believe she truly desired his dominance? Or would she make an attempt at submission merely to please him when they no longer shared the same desires?

  “Earth to Mason? Is anyone home?”

  He blinked and met Cam’s questioning stare across the sticky booth in the dark bar.

  “Damn, you really were a million miles away. Why the hell did you ask me to meet you here if you’re going to ignore me?”

  Mason rubbed a palm over his stubbly head and glanced at the now warm beer he hadn’t even touched.

  “Did the therapist fuck up your head or something?”

  “Or something,” he muttered. “She claimed that Claire is absolutely fine and longs to be dominated.”

  Cam slammed his beer down on the table. “Well, all right. That’s good news. So why do you look so damn depressed?”

  “I don’t know if I can do it?”

  Cam jerked back, eyes narrowed in disbelief. “It hasn’t been that long since you dominated a woman.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I know how to dominate Claire but is it the right thing to do?”

  “Sure it is. You both want it. She’s given consent. What’s the problem?”

  Mason pulled at the corner of the beer label, loosened by condensation, and realized his nerves were the problem.

  “What if I restrain her to my bed, start flogging her and it fucks with her head? I could keep whipping her ass, thinking she’s gone into sub space, when she’s actually reliving her torture. I could do more harm than Winters did.”

  Cam turned up his beer bottle and took a long swig. Mason waited him out. When it came, Cam’s insight was a doozy.

  “You’re going to what-if yourself into losing her. Sure, a certain amount of worry is good, keeps you cautious, on your game. But you’re forgetting the most important thing—trust. You have to trust Claire to know her own desires. And you’ve gotta trust yourself, along with your skills as a Dom.”

  “I don’t want to hurt her.”

  “I get that, man. I do,” Cam insisted. “Think back to when I panicked over asking Laurie to marry me. I drove myself crazy with worry and what did you tell me?”

  Oh crap, Cam was going to turn his own words against him.

  “Love is a risk, Mase. You have to trust in the person you love not to let you walk out on the limb alone.”

  Cam stood to leave and smacked a hand down on Mason’s shoulder, leaning in close to make his point. “If you love her, and I know you do, you’ve got to take the risk. Yes, you could lose her either way but if you don’t even try then you have no chance of winning. Isn’t Claire worth taking a risk?”

  Mason rose from the bench, decision made. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  He didn’t have to say anything else. Cam accepted the implied thanks with a nod and headed for the door.

  Walking out of the gloomy bar into the bright sunlight, Mason felt as if a dark weight had been lifted from him. In an hour, Claire would be at his place for dinner and afterward, he’d give her what they’d both been starving for.

  When he pulled into his driveway, Claire’s sedan was already parked in front of his house. He’d given her a key but he wondered why she’d arrived early. Anticipation heated the blood racing toward his cock, which lengthened within the confines of his now too-tight jeans.

  Mason unlocked the door, pocketed his keys and stepped inside, nearly swallowing his tongue over the sight that greeted him.

  His beautiful, impatient sub was sending him one hell of a message, loud and clear.

  She was nude, draped over the seat of his recliner, turning the chair into a rather lovely spanking bench, that beautiful ass he’d been itching to get his hands on thrust up in the air presenting a tempting target.

  “Someone’s been very naught
y.” Resting next to her hip on the chair’s arm was his favorite flogger.

  Mason moved farther into the room and let his hungry gaze roam over her spectacular body. Neither skinny nor fat, Claire had luscious curves in all the right places. Long legs he ached to have wrapped around his hips again. Ass round and firm. Her full breasts were flattened against the leather seat he’d never be able to look at again without seeing her bent over it.

  Her arms dangled over the side of the chair, fingers loosely gripping the bottom edge of the furniture. Long mahogany waves of hair hid her face. This was the first adjustment he intended to make.

  Without a word, he went to the spare bedroom he’d turned into a playroom, retrieving a coil of rope from the toy chest and a rubber band that held a package closed.

  Claire, who’d noticed his departure, started to push herself upward. He popped her ass cheek with the loops of rope, biting back a grin at her startled squeak.

  “Did I give you permission to move?”

  She shook her head. He sighed heavily and popped her other ass cheek with the rope.

  “I’ve done you a terrible disservice by neglecting your training, Claire. But don’t worry. I intended to rectify the problem right away. Now, is a shake of your head a proper way of answering your Dom?”

  She started to shake her head again but stopped herself. “N-no Sir.”

  “Good girl.” He rubbed a hand over her pinkened flesh, rewarding them both. Christ, her skin was so soft and smooth. Thanks to the salve Laurie had provided, Claire’s wounds had healed, leaving barely a trace of her torture.

  Mason shivered and firmly shoved the past where it belonged, out of his mind. Tonight would be a new beginning.

  Moving to the other side of the chair, he gathered her hair into a crude ponytail and wrapped the rubber band around the thick, silken mass. He gently grasped her chin and turned Claire’s face toward him, holding up the rope for her to see. Her eyes were bright-green, the pupils darkened with desire, her breath coming short and fast.

  He pressed two fingers against her neck, gauging the steady beat of her pulse. “I’m going to restrain your hands.” Her pulse picked up speed slightly but remained even and her eyes held no fear. “What’s your safe word, honey?”

  A slow, sexy smile spread her lips, revealing straight white teeth. “Security.”

  He couldn’t hold back a soft chuckle. Security was his business and he intended to be the man to provide Claire with safety and protection. “Security it is. If you get uncomfortable for any reason say security and everything stops. Understand?”

  “Yes Sir.”

  “Now for your punishment. Do you understand why you’re being punished?”

  She bit her lip for a moment before answering. “I-I’m not sure.”

  He smiled. “Good girl. Thank you for your honesty and trust.” Mason stroked his fingers along her elegant neck soothingly. “You’re being punished for entering my playroom and touching my toys without permission.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  He nodded, accepting her apology. “Your punishment will be twenty swats with the flogger you’ve conveniently provided.”

  Smart little sub.

  She chewed her lip again but this time to hide her smile. God, what the happiness in her eyes did to him. Without even realizing it, she gave him the world on a silver platter and made him feel ten-feet tall.

  Mason wound the rope around a chair leg and loosely tied her wrists, careful to ensure her skin wouldn’t be chafed.

  When he stood and took in the scene she’d created for them, pride puffed out his chest.

  Strong, smart and his.

  The primitive urge to mark her in some way rode him hard. He wanted the whole world to see this amazing woman had given herself to him. Belonged to him. Claire was his to cherish, protect, pleasure and love.

  She lifted her head, blatantly stared at the bulge in his jeans and licked her lips.

  “Oh hell yeah, honey.”

  That’s one desire he’d have no qualms about satisfying. Right after he delivered the punishment she’d earned.

  Chapter Ten

  Staring at the denim-covered erection a foot in front of her face, Claire couldn’t decide what she wanted most. Mason saved her from having to choose by moving around the chair and grabbing the heavy flogger. The falls, both leather and suede, trailed lightly over her hip, raising goose bumps all over her body.

  He played, easing her into the heady sensation, sensitizing her skin. The soft material glided the length of one arm, across her shoulders and down the other arm. They danced along the curve of her spine, tickled her ribs and tantalized both legs before ever touching her rear end.

  The first heavy thud pulled a deep moan from Claire and had her pushing up onto her toes, thrusting her ass higher. Mason’s calloused palm skated over her cheeks, soothing the sting from her heated flesh.

  Several swats landed in rapid succession, stealing her breath. Not with pain but sensual warmth that spread throughout her pelvis. Each thuddy swish of the falls against her bottom amped up the heat and sparked a fresh gush of juices dampening her thighs. She lost count of the thwacks, surrendered to the rise of passion, gave herself over to Mason’s capable hands.

  This freedom, a gift Mason generously provided, released all the worries and stress of daily life, lifting her to a higher plane of existence. Here, pleasure ruled and true ecstasy was attainable.

  “Oh Claire.” Gentle fingers elevated her chin, bringing her face-to-face with Mason. “I don’t have the words to express how much you please me.” A variety of emotions flickered in his blue eyes, melting her heart. Lust, joy, pride and…love.

  I love you too.

  He straightened abruptly, the sound of a zipper drawing her gaze to his impressive erection and the damp spot of pre-cum darkening the material over the crown. Mason parted his jeans, reached inside and shoved the pants toward his knees, freeing a cock that had her drooling.

  Long and thick, the shaft was riddled with pulsing blue veins. The bulbous crown bobbed before her eyes, a small drop of clear fluid leaking from the slit.

  Dying for a taste, she licked her lips. Mason’s rough groan made her smile. Glancing up at his tensed features, she batted her lashes and pleaded, “Can I taste you, Sir?”

  “Fuck yeah.”

  Mason didn’t make her wait. One hand cupped the back of her head, exerting firm yet gentle pressure on her ponytail. His other hand guided that magnificent cock to her lips, painting them with his pre-cum.

  “Open for me, Claire.”

  She obeyed without hesitation, stretching her mouth wide to admit the plump head and swirling her tongue over the prominent ridge. As his familiar salty flavor burst over her taste buds, Claire moaned her enjoyment, delighted by the sharply hissed breath reflecting Mason’s pleasure.

  His fingers contracted in her ponytail, the slight tug on her scalp had her sucking hard, drawing Mason’s cock deeper into her mouth. He pulled back then flexed his hips, fucking her mouth in a slow and steady rhythm that drove Claire out of her mind. Hungry for the taste of his cum, she put her all into returning the favor.

  In and out he thrust, her saliva easing his way as he teased her with small drops of creamy fluid to savor. The friction caused her lips to swell and tingle. She’d never felt sexier, more vibrant or alive.

  Mason pulled from her mouth with a loud pop. She pouted up at him, a complaint on the tip of her tongue until she took in his anguished expression.

  “Need to be in you.”

  Yes!

  Her empty pussy clenched in agreement.

  Instead of hustling around the other side of the chair, Mason leaned down and untied her hands.

  “W-what?”

  “Hush now.” He rubbed her wrists then rose, shucked his clothes and lifted Claire into his arms. “Be patient.”

  Patient? Was he kidding? She’d waited what seemed like forever and now he wanted patience?

  He held her
with care, cradled against his chest as if she were precious. Carrying her into the playroom he hadn’t permitted her to enter before now, regardless of how many times she’d begged, he tenderly lay her down on the padded bench.

  Mason disappeared from view and went about securing her right arm with a strap. As leather wrapped around her wrist, panic swamped her. The scent of Polo cologne filled her nose. A cold layer of sweat broke out on her skin and she had trouble getting enough air into her lungs.

  Oh God, she couldn’t do this. She’d been wrong—wasn’t ready. May never be ready.

  Pain stabbed straight through the center of her chest. The idea of never being able to have this essential part of her life satisfied left a gaping hole she had no hopes of filling.

  Warm hands cupped her cheeks, a broad chest pressed tight to her breasts and Mason’s face moved in close to hers until he was all she could see. His warm breath washed over her cheek and with each inhalation, her lungs filled with his masculine scent.

  Not Carl. Mason. Carl’s dead and gone. He can’t hurt me anymore.

  “Claire, breathe with me, honey. I’ve got you. Everything’s fine.”

  His chest rose and fell slow and easy, giving her a rhythm to focus on. Staring into his concerned blue gaze, she worked to match her breathing to his. She was safe, with Mason, the man who’d saved her. He wouldn’t allow anything to harm her.

  After several minutes, calm stole over her, easing her fears.

  “Good girl.”

  His praise covered her like a warm blanket and filled Claire with renewed strength. But then Mason lifted his torso and started to unbuckle the restraint from her wrist.

  “No,” Claire blurted. “Please. I-I need this. A good experience, with you, to replace the bad.”

  He stared deep into her eyes, peering right into her soul she’d bared to him. What he saw there must have convinced him because Mason nodded.

  “Okay, honey. I understand.” He left her right wrist restrained and moved to the other, making sure to stay within her line of sight. Mason talked to her in a constant, low tone that helped soothe her nerves. Thank God he had a deep well of calm to draw from.