He drew the curve of the belt along one of the welts. A low moan filled the silence. Damn, but she did like it hard. “What color, Darcy?”
“Gr—” She choked a bit. “I'm sorry, Sir. I'm overstepping the terms of my request. I feel peaceful and focused now.”
“You want me to stop now?” He had to make sure. Her voice came out clear, but it trembled a lot. Generally he sent subs into a place where their voices came out a little slurred. Whether or not a safe word had been given, he always stopped if the sub sounded tenuous. He preferred to err on the side of caution. Pain for the sake of pain didn't arouse him, and Darcy's request certainly seemed to fall into that category.
She scrunched the fabric of her skirt, and a small, self-deprecating laugh reached his ears. “No, but this is all I asked for.”
“Then I release you. Can I tend to your back?” Malcolm loved the intimacy of aftercare. Every time he cared for a submissive after a scene, he fell a little in love. Except for the five angry, red stripes, he hadn't done more than pink her skin. Rubbing in lotion wasn't necessary, but he wanted to do it anyway.
For the longest time, she didn't move. Though he had moved behind her in an attempt to preserve her modesty, her lack of response worried him. She knelt with her bottom on her heels and her head slumped forward, just as she had during her flogging. Malcolm squatted in front of her and made a concerted effort to not ogle her breasts.
“Darcy? Look at me.” Though he had released her, he used his Dom voice anyway. She lifted her head and blinked at him uncomprehendingly. He wasn't sure what had happened between his releasing her and now, but she had mentally checked out.
He tore the cover from the bed to access the softer blanket below. Housekeeping hadn't been around to make the bed, so that blanket was easy to snatch away. He draped it around her shoulders, lifted her from the floor, and set her on the bed. He followed her down and enfolded her in his arms.
The front of the blanket was a bit loose, and the feel of her soft breasts against the thin material of his shirt made him shift to avoid pressing his erection into her hip. He stroked her hair and lower back, and he murmured praise and encouragement. Before too long, she sighed and snuggled into him.
Darcy floated in a vast sea of peace. The unfamiliar scents and feelings conspired to keep her there. Like a lucid dream, she knew she wasn't coherent, but the tranquility proved to be more than she could resist. Little by little, pieces of reality crept in to banish her from this place.
The solidity of a strong body engulfing hers, the intoxicating fragrance of clean male, and the low rumble of whispered assurances grew in her consciousness. Eventually she realized what had happened.
“I'm sorry,” she murmured. The side of her face lay against his chest, and she made no move to break contact. “This hasn't happened to me in years.”
The arm underneath her body wrapped around her shoulders. He held her gently and avoided touching the area where her skin was tender. His other arm draped over her waist and smoothed circles across her lower back. He didn't alter his position, but he did kiss the top of her head.
“Subspace?”
“Delayed subspace. When I first began doing this, I discovered that sometimes certain positions and sensations could send me there unexpectedly. It freaked Scott out, and I learned to control it. It's been so long. I didn't even think this could happen to me anymore.”
She felt the tension drain from Theo. Well, almost all the tension. A glance down revealed an erection straining against the cotton of his pants. That explained why he didn't press the length of his body against hers. He lay on his back with her firmly held to his side.
Slowly she slid until she lay on top of him. Lifting her head, she tried to read the emotion in his brown eyes. It proved impossible, but he had gone still, so she decided he must be nervous.
She braced her hands on the pillow beneath his head and brushed her lips over his. While she meant to thank him for helping her achieve such an important goal, she also felt a profound need to taste him. His mouth opened, inviting her deeper. She licked just inside his lower lip, and his breath caught. When she tangled her tongue with his, though, she harbored no illusions about who was in control.
Theo's hands slipped under the now sagging blanket draped over her back. He gripped her around the waist, holding her still when she canted her hips to press against his hard cock. Immediately she relaxed and gave herself over to the heady pleasure of his kiss.
He trailed his fingertips upward, stroking the smooth skin of her lower back. Gooseflesh raised a protest as his caress moved higher. She moaned when his light touch made it to the upper part of her back, and wetness flooded between her legs.
But he didn't linger there, where the welts sensitized her skin. He gripped her head between his powerful hands and broke away.
Her eyes had drifted closed during the kiss, and now she forced them open. She wanted to know the extent of the effect she had on him.
Color ruddied his olive cheeks, and desire blazed through eyes half obscured by heavy lids. This evidence intensified her desire for him. She might be a submissive, but she was a woman first and she loved the heady rush of power that came from knowing a sexy man desired her.
“Lie facedown on the bed so I can tend to your back.”
She wanted to tell him it wasn't necessary. It barely stung, and she loved the tingles that shot across her back every time she moved. But she knew better than to argue. Wordlessly she did as he commanded.
Cool air touched her back when he lifted the blanket, baring her to the waist. He left her bottom half covered, which seemed redundant to her since she still wore her skirt and stockings. He checked out her back visually. She turned her head to watch his face. Any indication of his earlier desire had vanished. His clinical gaze lacked emotion.
“Is your lotion in the bathroom?”
“Yes.” She used the same kind as always—vitamin E and aloe, unscented. Perfumes and dyes often stung. While she wouldn't have minded the additional pain, it wasn't the kind that led to relaxation.
Weight shifted on the bed as he left it and returned. He administered aftercare with a tenderness that belied the clinical way he had regarded her moments ago. Darcy wondered how one man could be so blasted difficult to read.
He pressed a kiss to the base of her neck. “I'll leave you to dress, but I want to check up on you after your morning session. Meet me here at noon. And Darcy? No more hurting yourself.”
As the door closed, she realized he had deliberately avoided seeing her naked breasts. She didn't know how to feel about that.
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* * *
Chapter Three
Theo had her turn away from him when he checked her back before lunch, and again later that evening when he checked her after dinner. Darcy thought about disobeying that authoritative tone he used when he ordered her to turn around before she shrugged out of her blouse. The idea traveled no further, though. His respectful treatment made her feel good. For the first time in far too long, she found herself smiling just because she was happy.
That evening he took her away from the hotel to eat. Though the hotel and convention center were essentially located in the middle of nowhere, they were close to Battle Creek.
On I-94, they passed billboards and hand-lettered signs touting local wineries and an outlet mall, but sun-washed brown fields of soy skeletons marked most of the miles. The signs changed over to flashy bits offering hotel rooms and tours of breakfast cereal museums the closer they came to their destination.
Theo had told her the power suit she'd worn all day would fit in fine where he planned to take her to eat, but he'd said jeans would also be appropriate. Since they would be away from the convention center, she took a chance with the comfortable jeans she'd brought for the drive home. The stretchy material molded to her legs, and the low-riding waist managed to accent the right parts of her midsection while camouflaging the parts she wanted obscured. When
she'd stumbled upon these perfect jeans several years ago, she'd purchased four pairs.
She paired the jeans with a short-sleeved silk shirt she had thrown in her bags in case she spilled something on herself. One huge pale pink rose made a pattern on the bold pink background. It lent a splash of color to her otherwise dull clothing. Scott had liked to see her wearing bright colors, but she hadn't felt much like it in a long time.
They didn't have to wait once they arrived at the quiet, Italian-themed restaurant. Theo smiled at the hostess, who barely glanced up from her clipboard long enough to greet them. “Reservation for Stevenson.”
She ran her finger down the names on her board. Turning abruptly, she grabbed two menus and handed them to a college-age man who made eye contact with each of them. “Right this way.”
Theo guided her in front of him with his hand on the small of her back. A little thrill ran through Darcy, and she wondered if Theo had picked up on the fact that she really liked being touched this way. It might be illusory, but she felt cherished and protected. Her breasts lifted a bit, swelling under the impact of this small gesture.
The host placed menus on a small table in the center of the restaurant. Theo pulled out a chair for Darcy, and then he seated himself across from her. They studied the menu and made small talk. She hadn't really known what it would be like to go on a date with a Dom, but Theo behaved no differently than any other man on a date.
Darcy easily accepted the vanilla tone. Scott hadn't been one for public displays of submission or dominance, so she was used to this.
She had nearly decided between two of her favorite dishes when cold gooseflesh prickled the back of her neck. Sitting up a little straighter, she scanned the restaurant for the source of the creepy feeling.
“Darcy? Is something wrong?”
Finding nothing, she shook her head. “It just felt like someone was watching me for a minute.”
The waitress came and they ordered their entrees, but the feeling didn't abate. As she listened to Theo relate an amusing story about tinkering with his mother's computer as a teen, she rubbed the back of her neck in an attempt to placate the evidence of her agitation.
“I set a rotating password, so every time she logged in, the number at the end would increase by a digit. Every time she tried to get on, she had to call me. I'd do it for her, all the while pretending she'd forgotten her password.” He laughed gently at the memory.
Darcy shook her head. “Such cruel head games. What happened when she busted you?”
“O ye of little faith. What makes you think she busted me?”
She sipped a bit of water, studying him over the rim of the glass. “I think she had to keep a couple of steps ahead of you in order to earn your respect. From the sparkle in your eye, I can see the genuine affection and respect you have for her. Did she call you Theodore when she yelled?”
He grimaced. The expression emphasized his sharp features. “She called me a lot worse than my full name, and then she made me clean out the garage.”
She laughed. “You must have been quite a handful.”
“You have no idea.” He shook his head.
The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to know what kinds of things he would do to keep her hands full. She leaned forward and rested her chin on her palm. “Tell me.”
He looked at her, really looked at her. She liked how his gaze penetrated so deep. Something significant passed between them during their silent exchange.
“What an unexpected pleasure.”
The harsh, crisp tone jerked Darcy out of the spell Theo wove. She flinched as the rude man from the convention who had held onto her hand the evening before intruded on the moment.
Theo's gaze lifted first, cooling a thousand degrees by the time it reached the man's face. Darcy watched as the authoritative mask dropped over his features. Under other circumstances, that expression would have juices flowing to her pussy. Just now, it made her feel safe and protected.
“Have we met?” Theo seemed to grow larger though he hadn't moved a muscle.
The man, who Darcy definitely recognized despite his nondescript features, dismissed Theo. “Dear darling Darcy. If you wanted to leave the convention center, all you had to do was ask. Victor instructed me to be very nice to you.”
Darcy couldn't see that happening in a million years, mostly because she couldn't see Victor associating with this man. Though he didn't appear dangerous, something about him unsettled Darcy in an extremely unpleasant way.
Now that her chin no longer rested on it, he grabbed her hand.
She tugged on it, but he didn't let go. When Theo had held onto her and wrestled her into a position that allowed him access to her wrist, she hadn't felt alarm about anything. Shame had motivated her to keep him from seeing the marks she'd made on her wrist, but at no time had she felt threatened by Theo.
“I didn't catch your name,” she said. “I'd like to mention our meeting to Victor when I see him next week.”
“Not to mention it means she can't formally introduce you to her date.” Theo accompanied the warning with a tight smile and a pointed glare at her hand.
The softness of his voice sent shivers of apprehension down her spine. It must have had a similar effect on the man. He released her hand, and she promptly folded her arms over her midsection, tucking her hands under her elbows.
The man looked from Theo to Darcy. “Don't do anything inadvisable, Ms. Markovich.” He winked at her and walked away.
Theo's dark brows drew together, and she knew he was debating whether or not to go after the man. It could serve no useful purpose. Finally he exhaled and regarded her thoughtfully. “What was that about?”
She shook her head. “I have no idea, but that guy gives me the creeps.” Her hand felt like slime coated it where he'd touched her. She wanted to go to the restroom and wash it, but she didn't want to leave the safety of Theo's presence long enough to do it. She rubbed it against her jeans, but the feeling didn't dissipate.
“Who is Victor, exactly?”
“He's a friend of mine. He started out as a client. I've known him for about three years, and I can honestly say he'd be shocked by that man's behavior. I can't imagine Victor letting that creep within a mile of him. Earlier he said he was part of Vic's security, but I don't believe him.” The whole time she spoke, she wiped her hand against her jeans.
Theo held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
She stared at him, not sure what he asked.
“Your hand, Darcy. I can see what you're doing. Let me help.”
Short of taking her to the restroom, she didn't see how he could help. Still, she gave him her hand. Trusting him had worked well for her so far.
He turned it palm up and threaded the fingers of both his hands through hers. The tendons and muscles stretched, and he massaged circles on her palm. “New sensations to replace those you don't want to feel.”
As he had done earlier, Theo chased away the unpleasantness. Darcy could easily become addicted to the kind of care he offered. What woman didn't want a considerate, attentive, assertive man in her life?
The waitress brought breadsticks and salad. Theo didn't release her hand until the woman had completed her ritual and left.
Darcy stabbed at some lettuce, the icky feeling on her skin completely banished. She smiled across the table, hoping her expression didn't look too love struck. “Tell me more about you, Theo. I want to know everything.”
They lingered over dinner. Conversation flowed. Darcy remembered the first time she'd felt so comfortable and connected with a date. She'd stayed with that man for six years. She decided Scott hadn't just sent her a sign. He'd sent her someone special.
And she didn't feel pressured to take things faster than she wanted. He lived an hour away from her, which meant they could see one another, but not too frequently.
On the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, Theo paused and turned to her. The bright lights from streetlamps, passing cars, an
d open businesses lit his face. He held her hands in his, and she very much liked the intimacy of their pose, even though they stood on a sidewalk on a busy downtown street and people had to walk around them.
He leaned down and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I want to top you.”
“T-top me?” She stuttered the question, though she knew exactly what he meant. Having a Dom ask, even in the form of a statement, threw her off, which he probably meant to do. Her abdomen clenched and released.
The gentle pressure of his hand on the side of her head drew her back to the present and calmed any trepidation she felt. She lifted her gaze to meet his.
“Top you. Don't you agree that part of getting to know one another entails you discovering what kind of Dom I am and me discovering what kind of sub you are?”
Putting a label on a Dom couldn't match the experience of interaction. Besides, a huge part of her missed being topped. She nodded, but she knew better than to stop with a nonverbal response. “I'd like that.”
He drew his thumb over her brow, smoothing her nerves with a calm gesture of affection. He repeated the caress along her lower lip, and shivers of expectancy traveled down her neck and arms.
“I'm going to give you detailed instructions, Darcy. We're practicing tonight, so I don't anticipate having to discipline you. However, you should know that this afternoon, I bought a flogger. I plan to use it in the morning to help you face the panel discussion.”
Her pulse quickened. Nowhere in her psyche did Darcy consider a flogger to be an instrument of discipline. That promise, delivered in a low, smooth tone, set small fires at each of her pulse points.
He held her gaze and continued speaking. “Honest mistakes will be corrected. Misbehavior will earn a punishment. Tomorrow morning, after a brief warm-up, I plan to give you eight hard strokes. For each time you misbehave tonight, I will subtract one stroke. Do you understand tonight's penalty system?”
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