The Submissive's Secret (What's Her Secret?)
Page 2
It was a relief to know that in four months I didn’t have to say goodbye unless I chose to. That our time together was never-ending as long as that was what we both wanted. In our room he’d confessed—his voice a whisper that had held a tremor, his hand suffering much the same as he’d placed his palm to my cheek—that he’d never been in love before. That this was all so new to him that he’d been having a difficult time getting to grips with it.
I’d known hearts could melt, mine had done so with him before, but in that moment? My God, its solidity had disappeared and had become a liquid mass that churned and jostled inside me, a great wave that threatened to take out the butterflies.
I’d left the club, not in a taxi arranged by him, as was our usual ritual, but in his car. He drove a sleek Mercedes, black exterior, tan leather inside, and it had spoken volumes of who he was, that he had a pretty penny or two. I hadn’t seen the car before last night, knew nothing personal about him except that he worked in an office in the city. I knew him for him, plain and simple, and perhaps him falling for me had been because of that.
I most certainly wasn’t after him for his money.
He’d dropped me home, walked me to my doorstep like a gentleman, and kissed me as we stood on the step, me on tiptoes so my mouth could reach his.
I don’t have to wait until next Friday to see him now. It’ll take some time for me to get used to that. You know, seeing him most nights instead.
I’ve thought it before, but God, how swiftly life can change.
* * * *
The air was a little chilly. I’d forgotten to turn the heating up a bit before I’d undressed and knelt in the middle of my living room. Still, it was too late now. The time to kneel had come, and I wasn’t going to get up for anyone or anything.
Unless it was for Jaska.
With my hands clasped behind me at the small of my back, me resting on my haunches, head bowed, I did as I’d been instructed and thought about last night and what it meant for the future. Jaska had said that I’d need this time of meditation, to make sure I knew what entering that new contract with him entailed. It was simple, the rules set out clearly, and if at any time I was uncomfortable, I only had to say. He’d always encouraged me to speak up, to tell him what I wanted and needed, otherwise how would he know?
Having been denied orgasm last night, and me denying myself all week in anticipation of seeing him, my need for release—for him to touch me, lick me, whip me, hurt me—was now bordering on painful. My clit throbbed, and as I clenched my internal muscles to try to stop desire building, my cunt seeped wetness.
If only he were here now.
Instead of thinking about the contract, I let myself float to other things, visuals that would torment me, make me want to come. Our past filtered into my mind, of how, when I’d first walked into the club—an obvious newbie playing at being an experienced sub—he’d been the only one to approach me. The only Dom without a sub that night.
Had fate played a hand?
We’d spent the evening in the bar, him asking me what I expected from my visits, from a Dom, should one decide to take me on. I’d been instantly attracted to him, so much so it had caught me off guard. Something had hummed between us, the air going fuzzy with need and want, desire and so many other things my head had spun. He’d ended the evening by offering me a chance to be taught by him, sending me away to think about it, and that if I was still willing a week later to meet him there, at the same spot, then we would begin.
Nerves had gripped me all week, but I’d returned. Oh, yes, I’d returned.
My phone rang, jolting me out of my trip down memory lane. It could only be Jaska. I glanced at the screen, the phone in front of me on the hardwood floor. His name was displayed in white font against my screensaver background, a coil of silver chains. I’d taken the picture in our club room, the chains having been discarded on the floor after Jaska had taken them off my wrists and ankles. They’d made me think that I might like to see them again, but I wasn’t sure whether our session had been the only one where we’d use them.
As I’d taught myself, I leaned forward to press the answer button with the tip of my nose. Once in position with my hands behind my back, I never wanted to unclasp them until the hour session was up. Jaska had asked why I did that, and I’d told him it was a self-imposed rule that I wanted to maintain, just to see if I could.
With the phone always set to loudspeaker before I began these sessions, I said, “Hello, Sir.”
“Good morning, pet.”
My stomach rolled, and I closed my eyes to better indulge in the delicious sensations coursing through me—sensations only his voice could produce. My skin prickled with goosebumps, and my clit expanded, flickering with a furious beat that sent me lightheaded.
“You’re in position,” he said—not a question, never a question. He knew I was, that I wouldn’t lie.
“Yes, Sir.”
“And you’ve been giving our new relationship some thought.”
“I started to, Sir, but my mind drifted.”
“To?”
“When we’d first met.”
“Ah. So we’ve been thinking along the same lines today. I trust they were happy memories?”
I sensed the hope in his voice and once again realized that he was in uncharted waters, what with him not having been in love before. I felt for him. For someone usually so in control, it must be difficult to have his emotions wrenched like this, to want to remain a Dom, all he’d ever known, but at the same time experience all the joys love had to give, freely and without restraint. Without the rules.
“The best memories,” I said. “And how were they for you, Sir?”
“The same. I was thinking…” A crackle sounded, as though he’d shifted position and his stubble had rasped against his phone.
The thought of that stubble grazing my cunt had me snatching in a sharp breath.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir. That sound, it had me thinking things.”
“What things?”
“Your stubble. On my cunt.”
He laughed, low and throaty. “Oh, those kinds of things. Are you desperate?”
“A little. More than a little. I want…I want what I didn’t get last night.”
“Would you like me to allow you to come?”
Oddly, I didn’t. “No, I want to wait. Until I’m with you.”
“Good girl.”
“What were you thinking, Sir? You’d said you’d been thinking.”
He paused for a moment, then, “Ah, that. I’d been thinking of seeing you earlier than tonight. Not waiting. But if you’d like to wait I—”
“No.” I blushed at my fast reply, at being so rude as to interrupt him. “No, Sir. If I can see you before this evening, that would be better. I’m…struggling.”
“I see. Then you must stop this session and get dressed. I’ll drive over to you.”
“The club. It isn’t open.”
“We won’t be going there.”
My stomach churned again. “Where will we go?”
“To my dungeon. In my house. It’s about time you saw it. I’ll be there in half an hour. Is that enough time, pet?”
“Yes, Sir. Yes, it is.”
* * * *
Outside my house, Jaska veered his car toward me at the curb, then brought it to a gliding halt, the engine still running. He got out and walked around the front to the passenger door and kissed me, like he had last night, that fleeting touch that sent my insides to liquid. I stared up at him as he eased his head back, his breathing as ragged as mine, his chest rising and falling rapidly. We affected one another in the same way, and it took a second or two for me to get my head around that. Oh, I’d dreamt of this, to have him return my intense feelings, but for it to be actually happening was a lot to take in.
He raised one hand to cup the side of my face, and I leaned in to it, the heat from his palm welcome on my chilled skin. The weather had been
spiteful lately, all cold, harsh winds and bitter frosts, heralding a meaner winter to come. A stout wind blew, catching the long strands of sable fake fur on my coat collar. They tickled my neck, reminding me of how Jaska’s fingertips felt when he brushed them over my skin, so lightly it was as though he’d barely touched me at all. He had a habit of doing that, teasing with his lips, his fingers, his cock, until I begged for him to stroke me roughly, penetrate me hard.
“You look beautiful. That coat suits you. Red, like your hair.” He smiled, looking at me as though I was a delicate flower. “And I’ve missed you.”
How did I ever get so lucky?
“I’ve missed you too, Sir. More than usual.”
“That’s good to hear. You’re cold,” he said. “You’ve been waiting outside too long.”
I blushed. “I was ready ten minutes before you were due. I couldn’t wait inside any longer, Sir.”
“Perhaps I should have told you I’d be here in fifteen minutes, like I’d wanted to.”
“Perhaps.” I smiled, laughed a little, staring into those gray-flecked eyes and wanting to do nothing more than just that. Stare. Be taken in by them. Held spellbound.
The breeze attacked me again, nipped at my face, but I didn’t care. Nothing mattered except Jaska and being here with him.
“Much as I don’t want to leave this pavement, Lori, I don’t want you getting colder.”
He lowered his hand from my face, and the loss struck me acutely. He stepped back, and I felt abandoned, then chastised myself for being ridiculous. He was only two or so inches away. I could reach out and pull him back to me if I had a mind. And I had a mind.
“Come,” he said, taking my elbow—and my decision—in his hand and guiding me closer to the door. He opened it then let me go, gesturing that I get inside.
As I settled myself in the plush interior, I watched him walk back to his door then climb in. His usual scent—Diesel aftershave—was mixed with that unmistakable aroma of him being outside in the cold. It wafted over me, and I breathed it in, wanting to imprint that smell in my head so that when I experienced it again my mind would always be transported to here, our first day as a proper couple.
“Are you all right?” he asked, reaching out to place one hand on my thigh.
The contact sent flashes of want through me.
“Absolutely fine, thank you, Sir.”
“Good. I’m not pushing you too fast, taking you to my house?”
“No, Sir.” I smiled at him to show he had nothing to worry about. “I’ve often imagined it, what it’s like, how I’d feel to be asked there.”
“And how do you feel?”
“Very lucky. And like it isn’t really happening.”
He leaned across and touched his forehead to my temple. “It’s happening, pet. But don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m the same man I was when we met. Something happened over the past eight months, and I’ve found it more difficult to maintain my usual persona. This change, it will take some getting used to.”
His breaths were warm on my neck and each exhale ruffled the fur of my coat, much like that breeze had done. Except the resulting tickle was welcome, and I found myself wishing it was his tongue ghosting over my skin. My heart rate picked up speed, and along with a fierce beating of my clit that matched my pulse, my nipples perked.
“I’m struggling even more than I was earlier, Sir.”
He pulled back, studied me as I stared out of the windscreen at my street—red-brick houses under a drab, gray sky with black-tinged clouds that promised rain.
“I’ll take you now, then,” he said. “You mustn’t get too uncomfortable. I won’t have that.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
I turned to him, looked at him as he curved one hand over the gearstick, the other around the steering wheel at the two o’clock position. Those hands, those square-ended fingers, always had the ability to touch me in a way that had me trembling with need. And those fingers, they’d been in my mouth, my cunt, my arse, on my nipples, my clit, and had drifted up and down my wet folds. They’d delivered stinging slaps to my buttocks, and he’d dug the nails in when taking me from behind, him gripping my hips as he drove in and out of me, hard and fast and so relentless I’d felt faint more than once.
I couldn’t hold back. “I love you, Sir. Really love you.”
He let out a shaky breath and turned his head so he faced me. “Christ. You have no idea what hearing that means to me. You’re my everything, I want you to know that. I don’t want you to ever forget it either. What I do with you, what I’ve done with you…it’s been such a pleasure.” He paused and frowned. “You’re shivering. Are you still cold?”
“Not now, Sir. I just need.”
“Then you will get. As we drive, tell me what you’ve been thinking. Tell me what you want.”
He focused on the road and peeled away from the curb, not fast enough for my liking. I wanted to be at his house now, in a dungeon I’d never seen but one I knew I would love. I wanted his hands on me, his cock in me, his hot breaths hitting my nipple a second before he sucked it into his mouth then bit it, giving me that pleasure-pain I craved.
“I was thinking of how much I want you, Sir.”
“Go on.”
“Of how you feel when you touch me—of how it makes me feel. Everything you do when we’re together is so bloody wonderful I have a hard time accepting it really happens. This, something like us and what we share, I didn’t think it would happen to me. I never thought you’d feel the same. You were always so in control that up until last night I hadn’t any idea of how you felt. How did you hide it?”
“The same way you did, Lori. We played our roles and kept our feelings secret. But last night”—he paused to take a hard right, the turn tight and needing his full attention—“when you walked into the club, I saw how another Dom looked at you, and it made me realize—made me fully admit it to myself, in fact—how I would feel if I let you go. How seeing you with another man would affect me.” He glanced across and smiled somewhat awkwardly, as though admitting such things was a complicated task. “I had to see how you felt before we proceeded further. I knew that if we saw our year out, it would only make matters worse when the time came for me to let you go.”
I reached out and rested my hand on his thigh then stared through the passenger window at the countryside, the trees and hedgerows becoming blurred due to our speed. “I had no idea.”
“It hit me hard, pet. You hit me hard.”
“We were good at keeping our roles, our secrets, weren’t we?”
“We were. No more, though.”
“No, no more.” I smiled to myself. “Sir.”
Chapter Three
His house came into view just as the heavens opened. Fat droplets of rain splattered onto the windscreen then dribbled down, meandering rivulets that reminded me of mini streams. He switched the wipers on then turned into his long, horseshoe-shaped driveway, reducing his speed as the rain pattered with more force. From what I could make out in the spaces between the arcs of the wiper, he did indeed have plenty of money. I didn’t feel especially excited by it, more that this was a part of who he was and I wanted to get to know every aspect.
Unlike my red-brick semi-detached, Jaska’s home was Cotswold stone, its façade rendered a deep gray now that it was wet. The roof, complete with two chimneys, one at either end, was tall, as though it had been extended upwards at some point. The space up there was definitely used for more than an attic where cardboard boxes usually gathered dust and things that had gone out of fashion were safely hidden away. There were windows amid the tiles, large ones, as tall as a person by my reckoning, bigger than those of the actual house.
Jaska pulled to a stop and cut the engine. “Wait here for a moment, pet.”
He held up one hand, finger pointing north, as if to make his request clearer. He got out of the car, dashing across soaked gravel, then up the steps to his double-wide oak front door. Sliding his key in the
lock, he glanced back at me and held his finger high again. ‘One minute,’ I imagined he would have said. ‘I’ll be back in one minute.’
He disappeared inside then came back out, opening a large umbrella as he made his way to my side of the car. He held it partway over the roof and opened the door, offering me his hand. I took it and stepped out, inordinately pleased with his gentlemanly act. With the car secured by him pressing his key fob, I slid my arm into the crook of his. We made a run for the house, a clap of thunder giving me more speed, our laughter drowned out by the sounds of a storm that seemed intent on raging for some time to come.
Inside, I stood on a huge mint green, cream and peach Oriental rug, unable to stop myself worrying about the rain from my shoes making it messy. I slid them off, held them up and looked at Jaska, hoping my expression went some way to easing my rudeness.
“The rug?” he asked, waving one hand. “It’s just a rug.” He slotted the closed umbrella into a wooden stand beside the front door then held my elbow. “Let me take your shoes and coat.”
I handed my shoes over. His fingers brushed mine, and we stared at one another for what seemed the longest time. I laughed to break the intensity of it, then undid the buttons of my coat and slipped it off. He took it and quickly turned away to hang it in a cupboard.
“Your clothes,” he said. “Remove them.”
There was no question that I wouldn’t. I doubted anyone else would be here to see me—he would never have asked me otherwise. The idea of being shown around his home while I was naked and he was dressed in a suit was sharply arousing. I didn’t hesitate and took my dress off, allowing it to fall to the floor. I stood in my black thong and bra, aware of his keen gaze, of the heat that seemed to come from it. With deliberate slowness, I eased my thong down my legs then stepped out of them one foot at a time then toeing them away. I reached back to unclasp my bra, watching him all the while as he watched me. He didn’t take his attention from my face, but he’d be seeing my breasts spring free in his peripheral, seeing that the hairs on my cunt were wet where I was so ready for him. My bra joined my thong, and I held my hands clasped in front of me, waiting for his next instruction.