by Brenna Zinn
But I didn’t want there to be a shift. I want to be both your friend and your Dom.
Pretending to be wounded by her remark, Chet drew back and placed his hand over his heart. “How could you miss my genius and incredible wit?”
Emma rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. When we’re acting out a scene in the dungeon, I don’t get to see the other side of you. I’ve really thought of you as only my Dom.”
Chet glanced down, mulling over her words. I’ve really thought of you as only my Dom?
After his attempts to take their relationship to another level, that particular comment managed to inflict a slight sting. He fought to keep the mild expression on his face. “So do you like both parts of me? The Dom and the regular guy?”
A blush crept up her neck as a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “As my Dom, you’re amazing. You seem to know what I want without me saying a word, then you deliver. Oh how you deliver,” she said, her voice husky. “The first time I submitted to you and felt your big cock inside me, I thought all my previous experiences with men had been only lame practice sessions preparing me for the real thing. I never imagined finding a man who could satisfy me so completely. I had no idea what great sex was until I found you. I also never realized just how much genuine care a man could give me until I found you.”
Though her flattering words had him wanting to stick out his chest like a proud rooster, there had to be a big but coming. Sure, she liked the way he handled himself sexually, but…
He might be setting himself up to be pulverized by her rejection, but Chet had to know. “And as a regular guy?”
Emma stared off into the distance as though deep in thought. She tipped her bottle to her lips and took a long draw of beer. After wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she sucked in a deep breath and slowly let out the air. “You’re about the best man I’ve ever met. It’s hard for me to admit this, let alone say it aloud, but I really like you, Chet. I’m very scared of being hurt again. I’m still licking my emotional scars, not to mention the financial ones delivered by my ex-husband. Plus I’m just starting to get my life in order from the bedlam Rick created. Trusting a man again with my body, mind and soul frightens the bejesus out of me. But I’m beginning to think I can put my trust in you.”
Like having two tons of steel lifted from his shoulders, the weight of Emma’s judgment regarding his performance as a Dom and a lover lightened, allowing Chet to truly relax around her for the first time since falling for the blonde beauty. Not jumping up and fist pumping the air while hooting his victory took a Herculean effort.
Instead, he opted for trying to look cool and unaffected by her admission. She had just spilled her guts to him. Comfort and support. That’s what she needed from him now, not some punch-drunk fool acting like a teenaged idiot because she finally said she liked him.
Chet placed his bottle on the kitchen floor behind him, then did the same with Emma’s. He took her hand in his and entwined his fingers with hers, creating a secure bond he hoped also translated to the vow he was about to make. “I promise I’ll never do anything to hurt you, Emma. I will always do my best to care for you, no matter what. You can trust me.”
“I know I can.”
She spoke the words with such a tiny voice, he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and let her feel the full strength of his sincerity. But he held back.
Not now, Chet. Not yet. Baby steps. Just a little at a time. Easy does it.
“So,” he gently squeezed her hand, “does this mean you might agree to go out with me if I ask you again?”
“Yes. I think so.” Emma smiled. “But let’s continue to take things slow.” Changing the subject, she nodded to the switch plate above Chet’s head. “And thanks for putting in my dimmer. Actually, thanks for all you’ve done. You’re always going above and beyond for me. I want you to know I really do appreciate it.”
That’s my job.
Chet wiped his brow of perspiration that didn’t exist. “Hard, hard work, you know. Backbreaking stuff.”
“So I see.” She laughed and playfully nudged him with her shoulder. “I suppose I should somehow repay you for your efforts.”
“I don’t know if you can afford me,” he teased. “I don’t come cheap.”
“Well then I do believe we have a problem, kind sir.” Emma batted her eyelashes. “I don’t have any money. Since you’ve done such a good job here, I was thinking about having you look at my water heater downstairs. This morning’s shower was like washing in a cold mountain stream.”
Unable to resist testing the softness of her skin, Chet released her hand and brushed his fingers under the curve of her chin. “Oh I think we may be able to work something out.”
A light shade of pink stained her high cheekbones, calling even more attention to the sparkle of green in her gentle hazel eyes. The rise and fall of her chest quickened. When she licked her lips, her unconscious telltale sign, he knew she was ready for him to take control.
“Untie the laces of your top, Emma.” Though he had spoken softly, there could be no mistaking the commanding authority in his voice.
Emma momentarily worried her lip with her teeth before she pulled at the yellow ribbon crisscrossing the front of her top. Bit by bit, the neat bow between her breasts slowly unlooped as she drew away the ends of the lacing.
Like a man possessed, Chet stared at the enticing sight. Nothing, but nothing would distract him from the woman of his dreams undressing. In another minute the bow would come undone and her luscious breasts would be his to see. She was a gift-wrapped bundle of fun that had his package springing to life.
Emma glanced down at the growing tent in his jeans. She raised her gaze to his as her top spread apart, then she removed the garment, placing it on the floor.
He swallowed hard as her full peaches-and-cream tits came into view. No longer restrained, the fleshy mounds settled naturally against her chest while the darkened nipples formed into pert points. Lord, but she was beautiful.
His hands itched to handle the exquisite twin globes, mold his palms to their weighted curves. But restraint was necessary. Their session had just begun and the plans he had didn’t include touching her. Not yet.
“Stunning. Absolutely stunning.” Chet adjusted his position, improving his view. “Put your finger in your mouth. Suck it. Ah, that’s good. Now rub it on your nipple.”
Doing as he asked, Emma evenly applied the moisture around the dusky peak. She leaned against the doorframe, her body catching soft light from the kitchen. The glow reflected off the wet area as though the sun was attempting to lick her sweet flesh.
More tempting than any wild party he could imagine, Emma without doubt was now his addiction. A lifetime of moments like this wouldn’t be enough to satisfy his need for her. Although he might be her Dom, she was his Master. He would willingly do anything for her. All she need do was ask.
Beneath long lashes, she looked at him, clearly awaiting his next instruction.
He needed to focus. Forget about a possible future with her and keep his attention on the here and now. Difficult to do, especially as she had cracked open the door to seeing each other outside the dungeon, giving him possibly the greatest gift he could ask for.
Be here. Be now. Do this for her.
“Now pinch your nipple. Harder. Tell me how that feels.”
She closed her eyes and allowed her head to fall back. “My nipple feels tender. When I squeeze the tip, a sharp line of pain shoots down to my stomach and stops between my legs. It makes my pussy ache.”
Stifling a moan and pushing aside the desire to bend over to put the hardened rosy peak in his mouth, Chet willed himself to do nothing more than watch. “Excellent. Now take your hand from your breast and remove your shorts.”
Without hesitation, Emma slid her hand over her flat stomach and deftly unsnapped the cutoffs. She unzipped the zipper and slipped the cutoffs from her hips. Inch by luscious inch, Emma tugged the jean shorts down her legs. W
hen she’d taken them off, she flung the garment over her head, back into the kitchen.
Chet’s gaze roamed her slender figure, admiring each subtle rise and dip, every gentle curve. Only a tiny pair of black panties, little more than a scrap of material held together by thick string, kept her from being completely naked. The G-string hid a well-maintained tuft of soft curls fashioned into a straight line leading to her moist clit.
Even in the dimming light it was easy to see how soaked Emma’s panties already were. Anticipating the sweet yet slightly tangy flavor of her juices made Chet’s mouth water. He had to taste her.
Chet stood and took several steps down the stairwell before turning around. “Lie down, Emma,” he ordered. “Leave your ass on the top step and lie back on the pantry floor.”
When her bare skin made contact with the linoleum she shivered but made no objection. Now that the top half of her body lay flat and the lower half remained on the step, her angle was perfect.
“Spread your legs.”
As she conformed to his direction, Chet prepared himself. He kneeled on the wood step near her feet and lowered his head between her thighs. The smell of her pussy filled his nostrils. He momentarily closed his eyes, relishing the aroma as his craving for her continued to build in the pit of his belly.
Refusing to touch her with his hands, he rubbed his cheek against the inside of her leg and scraped the flesh with his stubble. When he reached her cunt, the moist heat radiating from her wet slit warmed his face. Soon he would bury his cock deep inside her, free himself within her warm depths. But for now, self-control must be shown. Both his and hers. Structure and clear boundaries were what Emma wanted. He’d move heaven and earth to make her happy.
“Do not move, Emma. Not a twitch. Do not speak. Not a word or a sigh.” He brushed the stiff bristles of his jaw around the tender juncture between her leg and mound. “Failure to follow these instructions will result in punishment. Do you understand?”
The question was a test, she had to know. A cheap way to get her to trip up. Knowing how much she loved to be spanked, he wouldn’t be surprised if she intentionally made a mistake.
Leaving her an out to get what she wanted was important. She directed their outcome as much as he did, although she sometimes didn’t seem to understand that.
When Emma didn’t respond, Chet raised his head and glanced at her face. The blink of her eye and a slight smile were the only indications she’d heard him at all. A warm rush of lust poured through him. The scene was on and he wasn’t about to let her down.
“You do not have permission to come,” he added. “You will resist until I give you the command. Do you understand?”
Emma’s body remained rigid. Tight as a well-strung bow.
“Excellent. Then we will begin.”
Chet immediately went to the object of his intentions. Without moving her barely there panties, he licked over the thin fabric, tasting her wetness. Nothing but nothing compared to the flavor of her pussy. Sweet, tart and a hint of something so sensual there simply was no word to describe it. Lapping harder, he started his tongue on a journey from the crack of her ass up to her sweet spot, following the thin line of her G-string.
He puffed out a breath of hot air over her cunt, hoping to coax even more flavorful juices. God, how wonderful the woman tasted.
Emma remained unmoving, spurring Chet on. He leaned forward, placing his face closer to her wet slit and then burrowing into the fabric covering her wonderfully soft curls. She had to feel him. Know he was there for her pleasure.
Using his nose, he flicked against the sheer panties, aiming for the hood protecting the hardened kernel of her clit. Having found his target, he centered his mouth directly over her cunt. Slowly at first, he nudged his lips over and around the wisp of material shielding her pussy, then sucked the wet G-string and her fleshy folds into his mouth. He waited for her response, a slight tremor or contraction indicating her pleasure. But like the good sub that she was, no movement came.
Encouraged by her determination, Chet raised himself. Her black panties guarded her clit from a full assault, but he located the sensitive bud of her sex and pressed his mouth hard against it. A barrage of licks—short and forceful—teased the bud without mercy. Though her body was already stiff, he sensed a tightening of her abdominal and leg muscles. He suppressed a grin. Clearly she was doing her best to avoid any movement.
After several minutes of nonstop affliction, he was satisfied her clit was thoroughly prepared for the next step of his plans. Taking the top of her panties in his hand, he yanked up. The straight line of the panty’s string became taut and buried itself into her womanly folds, as well as sliced into her stiff nub.
She let out a near imperceptible gasp. But the sound was enough to take action.
Chet stopped and peered over her abdomen. “Such a shame, Emma. You have been such a good girl to this point. You know what happens next, don’t you?”
Emma closed her eyes. Her only response.
Chet placed his arm under Emma’s bent knees, then lifted her legs. When they were high enough that he could see the familiar curves of her apple bottom, he stopped. “You have disobeyed me. This is your punishment.”
He raised his hand over his shoulder and held his position. Emma didn’t need to know exactly when his palm would strike her ass. Better to prolong the suspense. Anticipation was such a decadent tool to use with a sub. As far as she knew, she would stay in this position for hours until he delivered the blow.
A sudden movement in the kitchen distracted Chet. A shiver registered on his skin as the temperature plummeted. He flicked his gaze in the direction of the stirring, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. The bright kitchen and the white table and chairs appeared untouched. Unmoved.
I know I saw something…
Out of the corner of his eye, he detected another movement. Something black. No more than four feet in height. When Chet shifted his eyes to see what the object was, there was nothing. Only clear countertops and an empty hallway leading to the living room.
Chet mentally shook his head. When was the last time he’d had his eyes checked? Three years? Five?
Realizing he still had his hand high over his head, ready to deliver Emma’s punishment, he decided it was time. His dick was hard and he wanted to feel the tight walls of her pussy coaxing him to come.
Yet a noise, quiet but growing louder, buzzed close by. He strained to identify the sound.
A fly? A bee?
He turned his head left and right, taking in every inch of the pantry and kitchen. Nothing he could see would generate such a strange hum. Not even a trapped insect trying to escape out a closed window. But the buzz was there, growing louder by the second.
He jerked back when he thought he detected mumbled words within the buzzing. A man’s voice, deep and forceful, whispered directly into his ear. At the same time a powerful mixture of anger and rage overwhelmed his senses, filling him as though he were an empty vessel.
You’re too soft.
She’s been willfully disobedient. She must be trained to obey.
Hit her hard. Hurt her. Ensure she knows you are her Master.
Chet glanced back at Emma. She gave no indication she heard anything out of the ordinary.
The woman is your slave. Your bitch. Your cunt.
Punish her. Make her writhe in pain.
HURT HER!
Chet shook his head to rid himself of the angry voice provoking him.
NO! Chet silently shouted in his mind. I will not harm her. This is for her pleasure, not mine.
Tensing his arm, he swung down and slapped her bare ass with his hand. Though he restrained from hitting her too hard, the resulting loud smack broke the silence of the room. Chet remained unmoved as the sting of the spank traveled up his arm. The throb, heightened by the chill in the air, registered with his cock, which twitched beneath his jeans.
Despite the strike to her rear end, Emma made no further sound.
&
nbsp; You’re no Dom,the voice admonished.
You’re a boy.
A pretender.
An embarrassment.
Once again the odd noise buzzed in Chet’s ear, but the intense feelings of anger and hatred melted from him. A streak of darkness on the edge of his peripheral vision pulled his gaze over his shoulder. He studied the limited view of the hallway from his place on the stairs.
Nothing was there.
He ran his fingers through his hair. Between the weird voice and the crazy tricks his eyes were playing on him, he was losing his fucking mind.
Concentrate, damn it. Don’t let Emma down. She’s depending on you to take this scene to completion.
Out of guilt or for good measure, he wasn’t sure which, he struck Emma’s ass again. She absorbed the pain, uttering not a word, moving not a muscle.
Satisfied he’d punished her sufficiently, Chet lowered his arm, allowing her legs to rest back on the steps leading down to the dungeon. He repositioned himself, then slid his hand up her thigh to remove her panties.
A crash, as though something heavy and breakable had been thrown to the floor, sounded from one of the rooms on the second floor.
Emma jerked upright and turned. Alarm filled her hazel eyes. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes.” Heart racing with a jolt of adrenaline, Chet grabbed the railing and pulled himself up. He stepped past Emma into the kitchen, fully prepared to kick ass and ask questions later if he had to. “Any idea what that was?”
“No.” She reached for her clothes. Without bothering to put on her top, she held the blouse like a flimsy shield in front of her chest while fumbling to put on her shorts. “It sounded like it came from my bedroom.”
Chet rushed to a counter and pulled a large knife from a butcher-block knife stand. The sharpened edge of the blade glinted in the last remaining rays from the setting sun. “I know how you feel about me roaming around your place outside of the dungeon, but you said you saw something in your room last night. I need to check this out.”
As he turned to leave, she stood and caught his arm. Lines of worry creased her forehead. A shadow of unease covered her expression like a dark mask. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Just something that fell by accident. I probably didn’t set something on my nightstand properly and it rolled off.”
