Training Sasha (Club Zodiac Book 1)

by Becca Jameson

  Her eyes bolted open. Why was she naked?

  Shit.

  She was not in her apartment. She was at Lincoln’s house. She sucked in a breath as the memories of yesterday flooded back to her. She dragged one hand out from under the comforter and flung her forearm across her eyes.

  The first thing that came to mind was that she needed to remain quiet so Lincoln wouldn’t know she’d woken up. The man had several extra senses, and she needed a few minutes to regroup before he descended on her and started ordering her around.

  She’d failed miserably the last time he’d woken her up. She didn’t want to start today with a repeat performance. The half hour spent standing in that corner, lonely and cold, had been enough for a lifetime.

  She would do better today. Show him she was the good girl he sometimes implied her to be. Make him call her sweetheart. Make him teach her to be what he wanted in a submissive. Make him take her virginity and claim her as his own.

  Minutes ticked by. She was surprised he hadn’t barged into the room and interrupted her internal pep talk. Finally, she decided to get up and start the day on her own. Maybe he wasn’t a morning person, though he’d sure shown up at her place yesterday rested, relaxed, and ready to start her training. He didn’t strike her as the kind of man who required much sleep or slept very hard.

  She smiled at the thought as she eased from the bed and padded to the attached bathroom. One look in the mirror told her she was a hot mess. Her hair was unruly and all over the place. Her face was pale. Her eyes puffy.

  It seemed prudent to at least shower before she presented herself to Lincoln, so she flipped on the water and waited for it to heat while she pulled her long messy curls up on top of her head and wrapped a hairband around them two times.

  It surprised her that even after turning on the shower, Lincoln still didn’t surface. She expected him to fling the door open at any moment. He had to hear the water running.

  Making quick work, she washed her body, toweled dry, and brushed her teeth. She looked marginally more alive. It would have to do.

  Padding back into the bedroom, she looked around for her suitcase. It was nowhere to be found. She smiled and rolled her eyes. It was so like him to leave her with nothing to wear.

  Fine. She didn’t need clothes anyway. She hadn’t had any on in twenty-four hours. Hopefully, if she walked out to the main rooms, demure and naked with her head bowed and her body presented, he would be proud of her and their day wouldn’t start off with a punishment, the likes of which made her shudder to consider.

  With a deep breath, she left the room and made her way down the hallway. She found Lincoln easily enough, standing by the wall of windows looking out at the backyard. He made her mouth water with his torso and feet bare, the only article of clothing on him a pair of loose navy flannel pants. He hadn’t taken his shirt off yesterday. The view from behind was spectacular. All muscles and firm, hard skin.

  She hated to let the moment end. “Sir?”

  He turned around quickly as if she’d startled him out of a deep thought. His face was all wrong. His expression serious and difficult to read. Had she already displeased him this morning?

  “You’re up,” he pointed out, as if she weren’t aware. And how the hell had he not known that?

  “Yes, Sir.” She heard the wobble in her voice. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. Her heart raced. Her hands grew sweaty as she clasped them tighter at her back.

  His gaze moved away from her. “I’ve gathered your belongings. Carter is picking you up shortly.”

  “What?” The word flew out of her mouth without any filter or the addition of his appropriate title. He would probably spank her later for not addressing him respectfully. Except, no. He wouldn’t, because she wouldn’t be here later.

  He said nothing but turned back to the window, putting his back to her.

  She inched forward. “Sir? Why? Why are you sending me away? I thought you were going to train me. I thought…” She didn’t know what she thought. So much sorrow filled her, she choked on her words. No. This couldn’t be happening. She hadn’t had a chance to win him over. To make him see.

  “You should get some coffee if you want. There’s a full pot. He’ll be here soon.”

  Her body started shaking. What was happening? He was going to brush her off and toss her away like yesterday never happened without even an explanation.

  Fuck no. Fuck. No.

  She drew in several deep breaths, gathering strength. She would not go without a fight. “Why are you doing this? Why send me away when we’re just getting started?”

  He didn’t move.

  “What’s wrong with me, Sir?” she added, her voice more hesitant.

  He spun around to face her. “You? My God, baby. Nothing’s wrong with you. You’re exactly perfect. Pure and innocent and eager and so many things. Things I am not, Sasha. You need a man who can take care of you the way you deserve.”

  A man? She paused. “Don’t you mean a Dom, Sir?”

  He said nothing, his gaze settling on something across the room, avoiding hers.

  “Look at me, Lincoln. At least have the balls to look me in the eyes while you lie to me,” she shouted. The time for respectful titles was past. Desperation took over.

  He jerked his gaze to her and shot her a glare. “Watch it, Sasha. You’re still under my roof. Don’t try to top me.”

  “Fuck you.” She stood taller, fisting her hands at her sides. Her voice was raised. “Don’t you dare stand there and order me around while you’re planning how to get rid of me as quickly as possible. It’s hypocritical. You can’t tell me I’m perfect out of one side of your mouth while instructing me to get out of your house from the other. Obviously I’m not quite perfect enough. At least not for you.” Unbidden tears ran down her face without her permission. She left them.

  His body jerked. He lurched forward and then stopped himself as if he might self-combust if he got too close.

  Fuck him.

  “Do not put yourself down in my house, Sasha.”

  “Why? So many rules. Do this, sweetheart. Don’t do that, baby. I’d need a ladder to reach high enough to list all your rules. But it doesn’t matter if I follow them because no matter how many you pile on…” she sucked in oxygen, forcing herself to continue, “…no matter how many I learn, it’s never going to be good enough for you. I’m not good enough for you.

  “So yes. Fuck your rules. You only put them there as roadblocks to ensure I would fail your tests. You can’t stand it that I passed with flying colors because now you don’t know what to do with me. You’re right. I am perfect. It’s you who isn’t. I don’t know what it takes to break down your walls and get inside, but whoever manages to do it better come with explosives because that stubborn wall is high and thick.”

  Something snapped. He rushed forward until he was in her space. And then he grabbed her biceps. Squeezing almost too hard. At least he was showing signs of being human. She’d rather take his wrath over his complete lack of emotion any day. “You’re right. I’m not perfect. This has nothing to do with you,” he shouted. “Can’t you see that? This is about me. Yes. I have walls. They are there to protect you from what’s inside, not keep you out.”

  What was he talking about?

  She wished she were the kind of person who could stop tears from falling. But she couldn’t. And the fact that they slid down her face made her even angrier with herself for her weakness. She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Have I ever asked you to protect me from what’s inside? No. I’m a strong woman, Lincoln. I don’t need that kind of protection.”

  “Sasha…”

  “If you just give me a chance. I need a man who’s willing to take a chance and let those walls down. I need a man who isn’t so closed off from me that he can’t see me.”

  He jerked, shaking her with the reflex reaction. “Woman, I can see you fine. Every single inch of you. Even the parts that make you blush. All
of them perfection. Surely if you learned nothing else from me, you leave here with at least enough self-esteem to know you’re so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at you. You make my cock so hard, I can’t see straight.”

  “That’s complete shit,” she hissed.

  He flinched again. “Why would you say that? What have I done to make you distrust and disvalue the way I and everyone else you meet sees you?”

  “For all the reasons you listed, Lincoln. If I was so damn perfect that I took your breath away, then you wouldn’t be standing in front of me—me, naked and exposed—unwilling to put aside whatever is holding you back and creating a thick wall around you. Unwilling to claim me as your own. Unwilling to continue training me.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “Unwilling to fuck me.”

  He flinched again. His grip got tighter on her biceps.

  She continued. “You heard me. You say I’m strong, but you can’t trust me to handle a good hard fuck. I’ve done everything.” Her voice rose an octave. “Everything you demanded. Even things you didn’t think I could handle.

  “I let you spank me and stick me in the corner like a child without a word. I let you shave me and watch me masturbate and bathe me and rock my world with your fingers. I’ve seen the look in your eyes when you think I don’t. I’ve seen it for a lot longer than you think. I’m good enough for you. You just refuse to see it for some unknown reason.”

  “Sasha. Stop. That’s enough.”

  She ignored him. “Flashes of your lust for me wash across your expression, and then you snuff them out. So don’t tell me I’m enough. If I were enough, you wouldn’t be standing there holding me at arm’s length, telling me how hard I make your cock. Instead, your cock would be buried inside me.”

  Something cracked. His expression changed to one she couldn’t read. She recognized the moment she’d gone too far, but it was too late. Or maybe it was exactly right.

  One second he was staring at her like she had two heads. The next second he was picking her up and slamming her back against the wall. His huge hard body flattened against her. He threaded his hands in her hair and slammed his mouth down over hers. It was demanding. Hot. Scary. Amazing. She couldn’t breathe. But he wasn’t done. He pushed a knee between her legs to hold her up, stuffed a hand between their bodies, found her pussy, and thrust two fingers into her. She screamed out her instant arousal into his mouth.

  His fingers disappeared just as fast as they’d filled her, and he wiggled against her. His hips moved back and forth. It took her a moment to realize he’d yanked his sleep pants down. His cock was suddenly hot and hard against her belly.

  He broke the kiss and separated their faces a few inches, holding her by the shoulder against the wall with one hand as he leaned back. He stroked his cock hard against her with the other hand. “Look at me,” he demanded. She jerked her gaze back to his face. “No, Sasha, look at my cock.”

  She did. It was huge and angry. Come dripped from the tip. “You want this, baby? Is this what you want?” His tone was all wrong. But she didn’t care.

  “Yes.” She breathed out the word. She’d never wanted anything more in her life. “Yes, Sir. That’s what I want.”

  And then she was no longer flattened against the wall with her pussy pressed into his thigh where he still held her up with one knee between her legs. No. She was higher up the wall, her back flattened hard against it. Instinct made her wrap her legs around his waist. His cock was at her entrance. And then it wasn’t… because he thrust it up inside her.

  For a moment she couldn’t breathe or even think. Searing, white-hot pain exploded inside her as if he’d ripped her in two. Before she could process this, his cock was gone. Almost out of her. And then it was back. Deeper. Harder. Rougher. It hurt. She bit her lip against the pain of his second thrust. But this time the pain had a different edge to it. He did it again. Less pain. More edge. Again. Holy shit. So much edge.

  Again. Stars. Her vision blurred. Euphoric pleasure replaced the pain until she thought she might split in two from the amazing sensations prickling her skin. It took her breath away. She tried to look at him. See his expression. But he held it away from her, smashing his face into her neck. She thought she saw a look of anger or frustration on his pinched face but she couldn’t be sure, and she was too consumed by her own lust to care.

  He thrust again. She reached for his shoulders and dug her nails into them. Holding on. On the next pass—she’d lost count of how many thrusts of pure pleasure she’d withstood—she reached some sort of precipice. And just as fast, she fell from that precarious peak and crashed all around like broken glass.

  The orgasm that shook her body was so powerful and consuming she stopped being Sasha and instead turned into a sex goddess. Nothing could have prepared her for how amazing it felt to have Lincoln inside her. Consuming her. Taking. Giving. Destroying. The waves of sexual gratification didn’t subside. They morphed into more as one orgasm became two while he continued to fuck her. So good. So perfect. So much more than she ever imagined.

  And then he was moving faster. Thrusting harder. Deeper. Angling his hips so that his cock hit a new spot. She gasped. Her mouth fell open. Her breath whooshed out. His thick length slammed against that elusive spot inside her.

  Just when she thought she couldn’t possibly come any more, she was on the edge again. A different edge this time. A deeper level. It frightened her with its intensity. But she couldn’t escape it. Escape him. It was happening. There was no way to stop it. More white-hot pleasure. Blinding heat.

  She came again, this time from somewhere deeper. Her entire body participated in this new kind of orgasm. Shaking. She was losing the ability to remain upright. But Lincoln held her. He finally lifted his head and stared down at her face. One hand moved to her jaw, cupping her neck and the base of her head possessively, his thumb stroking her bottom lip hard.

  She fought to focus on him through the haze of the aftermath of whatever just happened. He looked… surprised? And then his expression turned to something else. It softened for the briefest second. Then it grew harder. His eyes rolled back and he thrust one more time and held himself steady inside her.

  She could feel the pulse of his cock as streams of his orgasm filled her. It lasted longer than she expected. But maybe time stood still. He was so beautiful. His defenses gone for those precious moments. His face slack. Nothing but joy as his mouth curled slightly at the edges and his eyes softened—still closed but not squeezed tight. He grunted finally. Spent. Sexy. Larger than life.

  She would have to remember that moment forever because it passed so quickly. One second he was inside her, holding her, enjoying everything she gave him. The next second his gaze pinned her to the wall. He blinked and seemed to come back into his body from another place. His eyes widened. He licked his lips. And then he pulled out of her, lowered her to her feet, and jumped back as if she had the plague. His chest heaved. He ran a hand through his hair. His face hardened with pure anger.

  She had never before been scared of him, but she was now. Frightened out of her mind. She didn’t know this man in front of her. He was not her Lincoln.

  She jumped when he shouted out one word. “Fuck.” He spun around and padded away. “Get the rest of your stuff together and get dressed. Carter will be here to get you in a few minutes.” And then he was gone. Gone. She didn’t move or breathe until she flinched when the door to the master bedroom slammed shut. She heard a visceral scream of anger. And then nothing.

  Chapter 20

  Sasha was numb. There was no other way to describe it.

  She floated out of her body at the slam of Lincoln’s bedroom door and stood there, dazed, confused. Wetness between her legs made her lower her face to see pink streaks running down her thighs.

  She wasn’t even angry yet. That emotion didn’t come for a long time.

  There was a knock at the front door eventually, but she didn’t move. She was still facing the hallway where she’d last seen Lincoln’s enormous
frame.

  A key turned in the lock, and then it opened. “Sasha?” She heard Carter’s voice, but she still didn’t move.

  Out of her peripheral vision, she saw him grab a blanket off the couch and rush forward to wrap it around her. He angled her toward the couch and sat her down, kneeling in front of her. “Where’s Lincoln, honey?”

  She didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Words were illusive—totally out of reach. She looked right through him.

  “Sasha?” He prompted again. “Honey, talk to me.”

  She couldn’t. What would she say?

  “Sasha, did he force you?”

  She blinked at Carter. What?

  He narrowed his gaze, squeezing her thighs. “Did he hurt you, honey?”

  She shook her head. “No. God, no.” Not like that. Not like Carter meant.

  Finally, he stood. “Don’t move.” He rushed away from her and headed down the hallway.

  She heard him knock on Lincoln’s door and then open it. His voice floated into her, but not the words. They were loud enough, but she blocked them, not wanting to hear anything either man said.

  She had no idea how much time went by before Carter returned, but suddenly he was there, right in front of her again, his phone to his ear. “Yeah, that’s right… Can you come?… If I knew anyone else to call, I would… Thanks… Yes. Soon.” He ended the call.

  Why she heard that part and not the previous shouting she would never know.

  Carter grabbed her suitcase from the front door and set it on the sofa next to her. He opened it, took something out, and handed it to her. “You need to get dressed, honey. Can you do it yourself?”

  She finally blinked at him. Focus, Sasha. What did he say?

  He held a sundress in front of her, shaking it gently.

  Clothes. She needed clothes. Right. Of course.

  She reached out a hand that wasn’t attached to her body and took the dark blue fabric from him.