by Selena Kitt
"If I decide no, do you really think it will be that easy to go back?"
"I didn't say it would be easy, but I've come to care for you, and I don't want to lose what we had, so I'll make it so."
With a crooked finger, he nudged up her chin and kissed her, the touch of his lips on hers creating a delicious sensation that she didn't want to end. She lifted her mouth, seeking more, as he pulled away.
"No. You've run from me twice. We can't let kisses or sex interfere with a lucid, well thought out decision. No pressure, Cassie. I want you to do what you feel is right for you. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," she replied, the strain of disappointment in her voice one of a sexually frustrated nature. "But I have to say I don't like it."
He smiled, his face so near that she could see the gray in his irises had again turned to silver, which she was beginning to associate with strong emotion, both anger and desire. His finger trailed down the line of her jaw gently, before he sat back and set her on her feet. Carefully, he eased her panties into place and smoothed her skirt over her warm and still smarting behind.
"Now then, dinner. What do you feel like?" he asked as he also stood and turned her toward the door. He moved them forward, his arm curled around her shoulders as in the past. "Italian, Mexican, Chinese, or a burger, name your poison."
"A burger sounds good, but I need to use the powder room before we go."
In the hall now, he motioned to the next door. "Of course."
She scurried out from under his arm and was just closing the door when his hand came up to stop it. "I forgot one other rule: no touching."
Her lips parted in surprise, surely she couldn't have heard him right. "What?"
"No touching yourself and getting off. If you come to me at the end of the week, I'll want you as hungry as I am."
A wave of pure pleasure swept through her at the notion that he could be even half as aroused by their spanking session as she was. She leaned weakly against the doorjamb as she clarified, "Does that mean you are going to, um, abstain, as well?"
"Yes, not to would be rather unfair, don't you think?"
She took a step forward, then another, rejoining him in the hall.
His eyes flicked over her shoulder. "I thought you needed the powder room?"
She flushed, the purpose of going now moot. "I don't have to anymore."
Gazing down at her for a moment, his eyes flashed with understanding, then as if coming to a decision, he pulled her into the circle of his arms and hauled her up on her toes, his lips a scant distance above her own.
"Fuck interference, consider this when you weigh the pros and cons this week."
Then he crushed her to him, his mouth smothering hers with demanding intensity, as his tongue swept inside and explored every inch. Her curves fit into the hard contours of his body, and she felt the hard proof of his desire against her belly. That, in addition to the heady caress of his mouth, left her head spinning.
Cassie almost told him then and there that she wanted him more than anything, and very much wanted to be his submissive, ready to come to him willingly, whether to his caring, tender touch, or the stern, stinging bite of his displeasure, that she wanted to be his in all ways, as she'd dreamed of from the day that she first met him. She held back, however, sensing he was serious about this week long contemplation period. There was also some reticence on her part considering her past disappointments, although none of the men who came before had been anything like Commander Flynn Dalton. As the kiss went on, she clung to his shoulders, opening wide to his possession while his demanding lips and tongue sent shivers of desire racing through her.
As quickly as it had begun, it ended, and with both of them breathing hard, he once more set her away from him. "You make me forget all my good intentions, imp. In the car with you and on to Nicky Rottens for burgers. Instead of tasting you, I'll sublimate with a beer or two, and a peppercorn burger and Swiss, well done."
She blinked up at him, food the last thing she was hungry for; she made that clear as her hands slid slowly over the contoured muscles of his chest. He frowned at her with a shake of his head as he turned her by the shoulders and with a light pat on the behind, sent her into the bathroom.
"Go splash some water on your face and cool off. And while you're in there, lose the dreamy eyed look, baby, or I'll never make it until tomorrow, let alone Saturday." She gazed over her shoulder at him as she went, thinking that wouldn't hurt her feelings at all.
"Yep, that's the look," he groaned. He reached in and firmly closed the door.
She gaped at it for a moment, then unable to stop herself, she giggled. But in the end, the laugh was on her because it was going to be a long ass week.
Chapter Seven
The five days and six excruciatingly long nights that followed proved Cassie right; the week dragged on as though it were a month. Flynn still had to cover for the other instructor who was out with a family emergency and she didn't know if it made it better or worse that she didn't see him. By the time Saturday arrived, she was wired, and angry that he had insisted on putting them through this torture when he could have easily had her in his bed and his arms every night since Monday.
He had said lucid and clear thinking. Ha! The only thing she could think about was him kissing her, his arousing touch, and his hands all over her bare bottom. And, with his no getting off rule, she was ready to explode like a firecracker with a short fuse.
So it was that she once again sat squirming on the backseat of Colt's Dodge Charger as they made their way north to LA. Her restlessness wasn't caused by the same anxiety of the previous week; but rather, a hungry yearning to see the only man who could satisfy her, with a healthy dose of anticipation to see him, be in his arms again, feel his lips on hers, and to finally become his, fully and without reservation.
"Aren't we there yet? How much longer?" she barked abruptly as though her friend was her chauffeur.
"Since I said thirty minutes ten minutes ago, and twenty-five, five minutes after that, you finish the count down, math whiz."
Her head snapped up; seeing Julie giggling from the front while Colt gazed back at her in the mirror with waning tolerance, she realized what a pest she was being. "Sorry."
"You're like a kid on vacation, honey," Julie laughed. "And you don't need to apologize for being excited. I am too, for you."
"As am I, squirt," Colt conceded, "I'm going ten over already to get you there in plenty of time."
"Good grief, don't get a ticket and make us late. Flynn will think I'm not coming." Her eyes hit the clock on the dash, then flicked to the speedometer. "Slow down!"
Colt growled as he eased off the gas, shooting her a glare in the mirror that was equal parts impatience and amusement. "I hope the commander knows what he's doing, because she's driving me nuts."
Julie stroked his arm gently. "She's in love, babe. Remember how crazy we were when we first met?"
His hand covered hers and with their fingers intertwined, he raised it to his lips. As he pressed a kiss against her knuckles, the look he sent Julie was so warm it melted Cassie's heart. That's what she wanted with Flynn and she was twenty minutes away from making it happen.
* * *
He checked his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes, glaring at the damn thing as if it were responsible for the time dragging by. It had been this way all week. He couldn't count the times he'd grabbed his keys and was halfway to the door to go see her, before stopping himself. Distance brought clarity, he reminded himself, and he wanted her to be damn sure that he was what she wanted, because once he claimed her, he wasn't letting her go.
On edge, he'd been extra tough on his men, joining them on some of the endurance drills to burn off frustrated energy as well as to end their bitching. He'd proved that even at almost twice their age, he could still cut it and that he wasn't asking more out of them than he could do himself. Still, he'd had three decide to DOR, drop on request. That wasn't unexpected and probably for the
best. If they couldn't hack it now, they'd never survive hell week and its twenty-hour training days.
To Flynn, the past week had seemed like an emotional hell week, wondering how Cassie would decide. He'd questioned the punishment he'd given her, countless times, but as he'd said, he wanted her to get a taste of how he would be as a dom and illustrate that her risky behavior the past weekend would not fly with him—ever. The kisses they'd shared and the gentle touches hopefully counteracted the severity of the caning, and she seemed truly disappointed when he hadn't carried the scene out to its natural conclusion.
If she were his already, he would have, taking her there on the window seat while her bottom still sizzled with heat, then on the couch, over his desk, and against the wall, with her hands bound over her head and tied to the eyebolt he had placed inconspicuously in the wall behind the door for just such a purpose. He would have loved to have her trembling and at his mercy as he teased and tormented her luscious body until she was begging for him to fuck her. Those images had caused him many sleepless nights—and not only in the past week.
Shutting it down when she wanted him was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. And he'd suffered a hard dick for it the entire week, including now, as he stood waiting by the bar. He'd chosen a spot with a clear view of the entrance and with each passing sweep of the second hand, he got more and more tense. He knew it showed on his face as the other club members gave him a wide berth, those who got too close, immediately feeling the waves of his discontent and making a hasty retreat.
"Quit scowling, Commander. You're scaring the members and costing me bar business." Flynn didn't so much as blink at Eric's comment, his eyes still glued to the door.
"You don't honestly think she won't come, do you?"
"No," he said succinctly. The small fraction of his doubt going unspoken, but it was that tiny fraction of nagging worry that was weighing so heavily.
"Well, have a bourbon while you wait at least."
He didn't contradict his friend when he flagged down the bartender.
"Don't worry, Commander."
The softly spoken words got his attention despite the blaring music and the chattering, boisterous crowd. He turned his head and found Valerie, Eric's subbie wife gazing up at him with a smile. "I saw the two of you dancing last Saturday. She was wearing a mask, but even so, there was no mistaking, with the way she looked at you or how she melted in your arms, that she was smitten. I urge you to remember that you weren't masked and she knew from the beginning who you were. She'll be here."
As if on cue, the doors opened. The bright red wig and black lace mask, as well as her outfit were hard to miss in the sea of pervasive black fetwear. As he stood, positioning himself so he could see all of her and the complete picture she made, from the hair, to the short skirt, and the fuck-me schoolgirl shoes, he grinned, pleased she'd done as he'd asked, coming to him exactly as she was that night.
"You've got an eerie sense of prophesy, as usual, love." This came from Eric, who rejoined them, slipping his arm around his sub as they watched the scene unfold. "Now the question is, will the commander make her come to him or meet her halfway?"
His answer, though unintended, came as Flynn stepped forward, his eyes not leaving Cassie as he watched her scan the room. When she spotted him, her lips tipped up in relief and she started in his direction.
"In this crowd," he murmured to his companions, "waiting for her to come to me, might take all night. I'm going to claim what is mine."
His patience after the long week of waiting and wondering was at an end. And with his eyes on her, he didn't look before he surged forward and into the server who chose that moment to pass with a full tray of drinks. The collision was a near disaster, but he managed to steady her and save the teetering, sloshing glasses while she apologized profusely. With Eric stepping in to calm the flustered young waitress, Flynn glanced up, searching for Cassie once more in the crowd.
"What the fuck?" he growled, seeing that she had been waylaid by another dom who had her by the arm.
"What's wrong?" Eric asked, immediately switching his focus and stepping up to his side.
"That bastard Charles has his hands on her again."
As he rushed into the crowd, he heard his friend follow suit, even as he drawled a request. "Try not to get his blood on the floor, will you? The grout in the tile costs a fortune to clean."
* * *
Further testing Colt's patience, Cassie had hopped out of the car before it had fully stopped, then rushed forward, up the steps, and into the lobby before waiting for her escorts, but she had waited to see Flynn long enough. Now she was finally here and scanning the crowd for his tall, dark head. It took her a few minutes in the shoulder-to-shoulder throng, but at last, she sighted him by the bar. He had noticed her first and was watching her, a grin on his handsome face. Their eyes met and he lifted his chin, a cool acknowledgement of her presence. Cool as in badass, not indifferent, thankfully, and even from across the room, she could see his face soften. He was pleased.
Cassie started forward. She hadn't gotten more than a few steps before a man stepped into her path.
"I see the cock tease has returned for more games."
Startled by the scathing tone and vulgar words, her head snapped up. It was the obnoxious dom who had unmasked her so rudely last weekend. He was a jerk and his lips twisted into a sneer as his pale eyes glared back at her; where she had thought him average before, his hostility made him slide several notches to well below subpar, making him Mr. Inferior. She hadn't meant to lead him on, and didn't, not really. It was his ego that was fully to blame, but his unmasking of her had started the ball rolling with Flynn. She supposed she should thank him, or at least smooth things over.
"I'm sorry if I gave the impression—"
"As you should be." His eyes shifted behind her. "Since you're still unattached, you can make it up to me tonight." Without waiting for a response, his fingers curled around her arm, biting painfully into her soft flesh. He began to haul her deeper into the room, moving toward the dungeon, oblivious to her struggles as he expounded on his plans for her that night. "Be prepared for a thorough session with my lash, no less than fifty strokes. If you resist, it will be doubled. Afterward, you'll suck my cock. If you're proficient, and dutifully submissive, I might allow you to find release. We'll see how cooperative you are, first."
"Let me go. I didn't say I'd go anywhere with you."
"I wasn't giving you the option. Cock teasing subs like you shouldn't be allowed to decide for themselves. Come on." He started to drag her.
She dug in her heels. "You're insane. Do subs really like this jackass-dom routine you've got going on?"
"That mouth of yours has earned you the cane after the lash. Push it and I'll add a round with the short tail for good measure."
He didn't stop and Cassie began to panic. She'd opened her mouth to shout "red", when, in a blur, a large body moved in from the side and jerked the jackass dom away from her. The next thing she knew, he was slumped on the floor, holding his bloody nose, and groaning.
Stunned and unsure how it happened, she looked from his whimpering, writhing form to the man looming over him. It was Flynn; he was furious and clearly not finished. He bent and pulled Mr. Inferior back up, fists clenched around his collar. The man actually dangled a good six inches off the floor as Flynn snarled in his face.
"Touch her again, asshole, and I'll separate your head from your fucking neck. Got me?"
Charles couldn't answer, instead squeaking as he struggled for air, his face turning a dark shade of scarlet.
"Don't kill him, Flynn," Eric requested as he arrived, not appearing concerned. "You can do me the favor of tossing him out the front door. I've decided I've had enough of his ineptness and am canceling his membership."
The next instant, Charles was a gasping, wheezing, pathetic pile on the floor.
"Sorry," Flynn replied, not even winded as he dusted his hands off. "I don't shovel shit. Have
n't since basic twenty years ago."
Eric laughed, patently amused as he signaled someone nearby. Two other doms, both wearing orange dungeon monitor armbands, closed in and assisted the whining, protesting Charles by both arms to the lobby.
"Putz," the master dom grumbled in disgust as he turned to watch.
Focussed on more important matters, Flynn was in front of her, running his hands gently up her arms, his eyes searching her face. "Did he hurt you, Cassie?"
"No, but the man is a nuisance that can't take no for an answer."
"Next time scream red before it gets that far, Cass." This came from Colt, who stood behind them with Julie on his arm. "Better yet, wait until I stop the car so I can accompany you inside and we can avoid this kind of scene."
"No need, Jameson, there won't be a next time. I'll see to her from here on out." His hand came to her chin, tilting her face to his. "You've made your decision."
It was a statement, not a question. Gazing up into his silvery blue eyes, she nodded; then to prove how certain she was, sank gracefully to her knees at his feet. The crowd around them murmured in approval.
She put her hands behind her back in a pose she'd been taught over a decade ago, and bowed her head. "Please, sir, I want nothing more than to be your submissive. This week of missing you and needing you has told me how much."
"Look at me, Cassandra."
She angled her head back and found his face near. As he bent to reach her, his hands slid up her neck, knocking her wig eschew, then pulling it off the rest of the way. His fingers found the tie to her ponytail in back and slid it free, combing through the thick waves as her hair tumbled loose around her shoulders.
