by Dace Everan
“How dare you, Cal!” Her hand stung as it struck his face in an open slap. “How dare you treat me like this?” She stalked him and he let her. He backed away, arms up fending off her blows. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she continued to yell at him. Sobs interrupted her anger and soon he was backed against the couch she had just been delectably bent over. “How dare you scare me with those things? How dare you humiliate me in front of the only man who I have ever allowed to be so close to me?” Slap! “How dare you take my trust and throw it away and leave me like this!”
That was when he grabbed her wrists, yanked her arms down, and pinned them to her sides. She’d managed to put her arms back in her sleeves before she had come out but hadn’t bothered doing up her buttons, and shit if her tits didn’t look hot hanging there in the open fabric, nipples tight and pointing right at him. “You, Mistress, need to calm yourself down,” he barked, tightening his grip on her wrists. “Your trust in me is the only reason I stepped up and tried to give you something you desire.”
He pushed her hands behind her and held both with one of his. He closed her shirt and looked her straight in the eye. “You’re a beautiful woman, Lania…I want to do things to you that you will never allow me to do because you’re being a chicken shit! You expect me to trust you, but you can’t return the courtesy.” He grasped the front of her shirt, and shit if rage didn’t race through him. How in the fuck did she do this to him? He’d never felt so insulted or angry with her in all the years they had known each other. “My Mistress was in need of something. She had desires and wants, and I wanted to provide that for her.”
His voice was hard and menacing, his breath hot on her face, and her lower lip trembled at the passion she felt radiating from him.
“You are my life, Lania. I will and always will try to provide your every want.” He leaned closer, his nose nearly touching hers. “I have wanted to fuck you since the first time I ever laid eyes on you. Have I ever pushed that on you? Have I ever requested that of my Mistress? You know it’s something I want and have always found other ways to accommodate me.” He growled and real anger rose. All the memories of fucking those other women as she watched and urged him on flew through his mind, and for the first time in his life he felt like a fucking dirty slut.
“You think I liked fucking those other women in front of you! You think I wanted them!” He tightened his grip and a squeak escaped her. “Every single one of them I was thinking of you! Wanting it to be you beneath me! You who was allowing my dick to fuck your cunt, you, woman, god damn it!”
Lania whimpered and her knees buckled. She had failed her sub, her Cal, had made him do things he had never wanted to do, and now he felt wrong, so damn wrong, and it was all her fault.
Cal caught her up and released her hands, hugging her close. “Fuck, Lania! I just want to give you what you want. I won’t fuck you. I brought the fucking plug and dildo for you to put in to assure you I would not be going there.”
Lania sobbed and her arms surrounded him. He had thought of her. He wasn’t going to fuck her. “I can’t,” she whispered, burying her head against his chest.
Cal released a heavy, stressful breath and tightened his arms around her. “Yes you can,” he assured her.
Lania shook her head. She was sure she couldn’t.
* * * *
Cal draped the blanket over her and her body curled further into a ball. His heart softened at her delicate snores. He reached out, brushed aside her hair, and caressed her cheek, and his heart warmed as she tried to snuggle the palm of his hand. “Beautiful Lania,” he whispered, leaning close and placing a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. Her nose scrunched and he couldn’t help but smile.
He stepped away from the bed and crossed back to the living area of his temporary home for the next few weeks. He looked over the assortment he had laid out on the coffee table and settled on the couch, plucking up the plug. He turned it in between his finger and thumb, then flipped it and admired the bling on the end, a giant, ruby-like stone. Red was Lania’s favorite. She’d worn rubies before. Of course he’d always thought it was the cheap jewelry. Now he knew they were real. He shut his brains from the next thoughts that fought to filter through his mind. He refused to believe she was shallow enough to turn a man away because of his status in life. He set the plug down and lay out on the couch. He released a breath and let his eyes close. He hoped she wouldn’t leave when she woke up. They both deserved to have a good talk.
* * * *
Lania stared at the unfamiliar wall, her gaze landing on the rustic-looking picture of a mountain scene. Her mind was fuzzy, her eyes stung and damn if her head didn’t ache just a tad bit. What the hell? Wait. Cal! His room, her naked breasts, slapping him, yelling at him, damn! She owed her man an apology. She rolled to her back and looked at the ceiling and listened. She could hear his breathing. Otherwise it was silent. She eased up and looked down at herself, a smile coming to her face. He’d done up her top. Her gut did that flip-flop and she grunted.
Damn! Was she in…no, she refused to say it or think it for that matter. You don’t fall for your sub. How was she supposed to provide for him if she was emotionally attached to him? She flipped the blanket off and inched to the edge of the bed. Her shoes were neatly placed beside the bedstand and damn if she didn’t like the look of that.
She crossed to him and stared down at him as he lay sleeping, his features soft, his mouth open the slightest bit. She’d never seen this side of him. His hair was a mess, and three light scratches marred his cheek. She’d done that to him! Guilt flooded her. She knelt next to the couch and watched him, his naked chest rising slowly. His hand rested just above his crotch, and damn he was sexy, thick, and manly.
She reached out and caressed his cheek and his face turned toward her. A tuft of silky hair fell across his brow, and she reached up and pushed it aside. His eyes opened and she froze, crystal-clear blue orbs trained on her.
“Beautiful without all that make up on,” he whispered, reaching out for her. His hand stopped when she moved away from his touch. Hurt hurled through him.
Lania flinched at the hurt that crossed his blue eyes. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, moving back to his hand.
Cal took it, caressing her cheek. It was a start.
Chapter Nine
We need to talk,” she whispered, resting her cheek in the palm of his hand.
Cal nodded, patting his tummy. “Sit and keep your hands to yourself, woman. Those nails hurt worse than your single tail.” He grumbled the last part.
Lania smiled. “I’m sorry.” She said it clearly and full of the utmost regret. She settled on his tummy and it felt like home. She snorted. She didn’t even know what home felt like. She’d imagined it and had small glimpses of what it was like but to feel it, never, not in her own home. Home to her was the club with Cal and the other Masters.
“I thought the rule was no blood, woman. I told you I didn’t want to bleed. Not my thing,” he continued.
Lania looked down at him. “I said I was sorry. You shouldn’t have pushed me.”
Cal nodded. “You’re right, I should have sat down with you and let you know my every intention, but you’re not the type to sit down and listen to what anyone says. You do better with unexpected experiences smacking you in the face.”
Lania guffawed.
It was a laugh he’d heard from her many times. Times when she was amused by what others were saying because she knew it was the truth. At least to her it was the truth. Usually these laughs were followed by some smart-assed remark. He lay and waited. Nothing came, just the smile on her face disappearing and a sombre look replacing it.
“I wanted a man to dominate me, Cal. Craved it so bad.” She looked at the table, at the toys he had picked out for her. “I’d wanted it from the first time I had flicked through the stupid adult channels on the TV and happened upon a scene of a man over a woman, her hair bunched up in his hands, her ass pressed against his groan, and the sounds she
was making enthralled me. When he was done coming all over her ass, she turned around and thanked him.”
She looked at him then, her eyes big and so full of something Cal hadn’t seen before, blunt innocence.
“It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen. It scared me and thrilled me, and me being the spoiled little girl I had been—” She paused and looked down at her hands. “I decided I, too, would have that.”
Cal caressed the top of her hand, waiting for her to continue.
“I went to a few clubs, met a few Doms.” Her thumb caressed his as it came to a stop on her hand. “Arrangements were made and I was told of this great place, where I would be the one to take control, and they assured me everything was safe and they would stop if I told them to.” She grimaced. She hated reliving this stupid memory. The giddiness she had ripping through her at the thought of being that woman having a man spit his cum all over her. Instead she had received the reality check of her life. Not just one man but numerous. She had gotten cum on her back but also in her face, down her throat, and any orifice they could stick it in. She clenched her eyes closed at the horrid pictures filtering through her mind.
“I was old enough to take the actions but not old enough to understand the repercussions of what was happening. I was numb for a few months. I told myself what happened was normal. That it was what happened in those places.” She looked at him. “But deep down, I felt so dirty and used.” She grimaced and looked away from him. How could she make him understand how much it had torn her apart, how it changed her, changed her thinking, and made her…hard, cold, and numb to the world?
“When I came to and realized what had happened and the court dates started, I had, in my shock, agreed to press charges against those who had been caught. That is when things changed in my life. I had never felt so judged and I had no one to help me. I was on my own.” That was the loneliest time of her life. She had thought her parents’ death had been bad. She had felt alone then, but going through court and receiving the looks of judgment for why she had been with those men had made her feel more alone than ever. Alone, scorned, used and not worth the effort to even be fighting for.
“There was one lady who appeared at the trials every day.” She straightened out her skirt and looked at her toes. “After everyone cleared out she would show up at my car and call me down.” She looked at him. “Whore, slut. She would tell me I deserved what I had gotten. Every day she did this to me, came and tormented me at my car.” She slumped and released a heavy breath. “She and you are the only people I have lost my temper with. I ended up doing community service for assault.”
Cal snorted. “Bitch,” he grumbled, rubbing her thigh.
Lania looked back at him. “Laird got me out of a lot of trouble. He took me under his wing and kept me safe.” She bunched up a section of her skirt and then straightened it out again. “I can still feel it. What they did.”
She whispered it but Cal caught every word. He gave her thigh a squeeze.
“I know it doesn’t feel that way with everyone,” she quickly added, looking at him. “I enjoyed watching you fucking those women…I wished it was me but”—she grimaced—“I just…I—”
“Lania, I never asked you for that. You never asked me for that. I know you want to be tied up. I came to you for release, but the release I wanted was something entirely different and contained no sex.”
Lania nodded. “I know, but something changed,” she argued. “Something with us.” She turned and looked down at him. “You needed more, you can’t deny it!”
Cal held up his hands. “There was a reason you were in charge, sweetheart. You know your job better than I do. Yes, I needed more and wanted more, but what I wanted was you, not them.”
Lania grunted. She had made him do things he wasn’t okay with. She had brought that dirty feeling to him. “I’m sorry, Cal.”
Cal caressed her cheek. “No more, Lania. It’s over and done with, and we both know it’s not something I want.”
Lania nodded. He was right. They could heal together. She looked at him and stared. She did love him.
Cal gave her thigh a squeeze and nudged her. “Off, sweetheart. You’re squishing my bladder.”
Lania blushed and rolled her eyes at the action. How was it she could command this man to get on his knees and bow to her, to kiss her boots and for fuck’s sake, even carry her around on his back like a dog? Yet, he implies he needs to piss and it makes me blush?
Cal chuckled, grasping her around the waist, easily lifting her and setting her on the coffee table. “Weird isn’t it?” he hummed, standing and stretching.
Lania itched to reach out and caress his abs. “Yes,” she whispered, keeping her hands to herself.
Cal grinned. “It’s late, Lania. If you’d like I can take you back home.”
Lania shook her head. “I think I’ll stay.” She inhaled a deep breath and looked at the couch. It looked comfy enough.
Cal chuckled. “There is no way you are sleeping on that thing, sweetheart. Not on my watch. You can have the bed. Want a shirt?” he asked as he crossed to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door.
Why would he? She’d seen him piss before. “Yes, that would be nice,” she called across the room, waiting for the steady stream to stop. When it did, she smiled. “I miss you, Cal,” she shared as he re-entered the room, crossing to the duffle that lay next to the armoire.
Cal grinned. “Miss your sub or miss me, Cal, the man?”
Lania lowered her head. “My sub,” she answered honestly.
Chapter Ten
So his Mistress was in need of a little bossing her pet around. He looked down at his pants, a small smile coming to his face. Would she giggle at the smiley faces on his briefs? He didn’t care. She needed to smile, and he missed seeing it. He unbuckled his pants and lowered them, and grinned when he heard the giggle from the coffee table.
“Very impressive, my pet,” she purred, watching as he turned around for her. Damn she loved how he was such a good little boy. “Take them off and put the boots back on and hat as well. Then crawl to me with my shirt,” she ordered.
Cal did as he was told, slowly removing his briefs and letting his Mistress take in every inch of him. He could feel her squirm from where he stood. He peeked up and his gaze zeroed in on the puckered nipples straining against her dress. He averted his eyes. He’d not ever been able to see that with the leather she usually wore. He hoped she would wear leather less after this.
Lania licked her lips at the sight of him. She would never tire of seeing him naked, his smooth, sleek, muscled body glowing in the lamplight. Even in the weeks they had been apart he’d continued with his waxing. Good boy. He deserved something extra special tonight.
Cal knelt in front of his Mistress, hands up and presenting her with his shirt. He looked at her nylon-clad feet and smiled. It was the first time ever she had not stood in front of him in heels.
“Put it aside. You must undress me before putting it on me my sweet boy,” she purred.
Cal shivered and then glanced up at her. She offered him a smile and gave a slight nod of approval. He rose to his knees and started on her remaining buttons, slowly revealing her flat tummy and her cute little belly button. His fingers trembled and he saw her tummy quiver. “Sorry,” he whispered.
“Shh, you did nothing wrong,” she assured, watching as he continued down. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he pushed the folds of her dress apart, revealing her body to him.
Cal’s heart nearly thudded from his chest at the sight of her. For fuck’s sake, she had no panties on! Just stockings and a garter belt, and as usual her pussy was shaved bare, and fuck she was glistening. His hand rose to touch, then halted. He inhaled a steady breath and easily rose to his feet, slipping her dress from her shoulders, from her arms, and away from her. He rotated and draped her dress over the back of the couch, turning back to her. He fell back to his knees and, with shaky hands, unhooked one garter.
&n
bsp; “Stop,” she ordered, and his hands went still. His breath was heavy and his dick strained painfully.
“Kiss my pussy, my pet,” she ordered.
Cal leaned forward and gave the gentlest of kisses, his hat falling off, tumbling down his back, and landing near his feet.
“Lick my slit,” she ordered, and shivered as he lowered and tilted his head. His tongue jutted out and he buried it into silken folds, giving her a long, slow lick the length of her slit.
Lania shook as he passed over her clit. Her hand grasped the hair on his head. “Stop!” she ordered, grasping his hair and pulling.
Cal halted and waited, his tongue still pressed against the sweetness of her hard little nub. She had said stop, not move away. He let the breath release slowly from his nostrils and felt her quiver.
“Damn,” she muttered, loosening her grip on his hair. “You may continue removing my clothes,” she murmured, her voice softer than she had wanted.
Cal removed his mouth from her pussy and raised trembling hands to her thighs, loosening her garters. He slowly rolled down her stockings, revealing pale white thighs. His finger dragged along the length of a scar on her inner thigh, and he froze when she flinched.
“You were told to remove them, not feel up my leg, boy!” She growled, waiting for him to take stance for his punishment.
Cal swallowed and leaned back, grasping his ankles, and raised his hips toward her.
“Bad boy. You know you do not cop a feel without permission.” She pressed her foot firmly against his dick and balls. She pushed till he clenched his teeth in pain. She held when his face turned red and waited for him to apologize. Pride filled her as he held the stance longer than normal. He truly felt sorry for having made her feel discomfort.
“Beg your forgiveness, Mistress,” he begged.
Lania waited the count of ten seconds and eased the pressure on his dick and balls. Cal wasn’t a full-bore masochist. He enjoyed the lick of the whip, but not this kind of pain. “Do we understand what happens when you do what you’re not supposed to do?”
