The sun was just rising, and she’d been up for most of the night, but still she was too pissed to sleep. She grabbed a bag of clay from the trash bag she kept them in—they lasted longer if she added some water—and got out the rest of her supplies: slab base, rolling pin, clay cutter, forming tool, rib. She didn’t have a wheel in her apartment because it took up too much space in her tiny studio, but she could coil a pot pretty easily. She started with her hands pounding into the clay until she could roll it flat to make a base. She put that on the slab and then started in on the coils.
Her hands moved automatically as she considered all that had happened that night. She knew next to nothing about Theo, and yet he’d pulled something out of her that no one ever had. But he didn’t fuck her. Of course, he also said he would see her again, which was markedly better than most of the Doms she’d played with over the past two years since starting to explore D/s.
Still. She was beyond frustrated, and even the soothing feel of the clay didn’t do anything for her agitated nerves. She should call him and cancel the whole thing, tell him she wasn’t interested in fucking him. Tell him she could find any number of guys to fuck.
She stepped away from her pot and went to wash her hands. Yes. She’d force him to come over and fuck her. She grabbed her phone and pressed his name.
“No, brat,” he said as soon as he picked up. “I’m not going to fuck you, and if you call me again, I’m never going to fuck you. Go to bed. Think on what you’ve done wrong. When I next call you, I want an apology and a promise that you won’t do it again.”
“But…”
“No. I’ve made myself clear. Hang up the phone and wait to hear from me.”
She clicked End and slumped onto her futon. He was cutting her off at every turn. She wanted to stomp her foot and scream, but that would just prove him right. She was being a brat. But why didn’t he want to fuck her? What was wrong with her?
And she couldn’t stop thinking about that room he’d insisted she nap in. It wasn’t his room. There had been an attached bath, but it was clearly a guest room in a mansion, not the master suite. The bedspread had been white and almost too feminine. The room had been decorated luxuriously, but not with the sort of items one would expect to find in a man’s master bedroom. Did he always fuck his women in another room? Did he actually fuck them, and just not her? What was wrong with her?
Her phone pinged in a text.
Theo: I do want to fuck you, brat. I can’t stop thinking about that ass. But we do it on my time, not yours. Now be a good girl and go to bed.
He was a mind reader. There was no other explanation. He’d just met her. He shouldn’t be so in tune with her that he knew her thoughts. She glanced at her sad pot and decided to give up. She was exhausted. All the fury from earlier was gone, and now she just wanted to go to bed and dream of the way he bit her and spanked her and made her scream her release.
»»•««
Four fucking days. He hadn’t called, texted, or reached out in any way for four fucking days. She was ready to claw her eyes out. She had been a total asshole to her students in class, to the point that one of the other instructors asked if she needed a few days off. She did not. She needed Theo to call her so they could schedule another scene together. No wonder the man was single. He was probably one of those “don’t call me, I’ll call you” types. She couldn’t believe she’d actually let herself hope this one would be different.
There wasn’t anything to do about it. He’d opened up a door for her, and if he wasn’t going to walk in, then she would find someone else who would. She put on her tightest dress—no tight clothes, my ass—and overdid her makeup. Then she hopped in a cab and headed back to Exotica. There was no way Julian and Morgan would be there again. It wasn’t Julian’s style to repeat scenes, and she was sure the novelty of amateur “dungeon night” wouldn’t last.
She slipped past the bouncer at the door with a wink. He was big. Not nearly as big as Theo, but maybe if he got a break later, he’d play with her. She could tell him what she liked. Tell him she didn’t mind if he got a little rough.
Before she could take three steps into the club, her phone buzzed. Theo. Impeccable timing. The mind reading thing was almost spooky. She swiped her phone and snapped, “What?”
He hung up. Furious, she called him back. He didn’t answer. Jesus. The guy was such a hard-ass. She dialed again. Still no answer. She tried twice more and then started to get frantic. What if he was going to throw her over because of the way she answered the phone? God. Why did she have to push him?
Her eyes started to well up, and she wanted to kick herself. Her phone buzzed again. Theo. Thank God.
“Hello, Master,” she said in her best obedient voice.
“Better. That’s how you’ll always answer the phone, or you won’t be receiving phone calls, am I clear?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Excellent. Now, you’ve been very good and haven’t called or texted in the past few days. I’m proud of you. This is behavior that will get you a very good reward. I’ll come pick you up.”
“Um…”
“Lucinda?”
She swallowed. “I’m not at home. But if you give me thirty minutes, I can meet you there.”
“I’ll come get you where you are. What’s the address?”
“I’m…um…I’m at Exotica.”
She heard him hiss through the phone. “I thought you’d given up on me. I thought you didn’t want me, so I thought I’d try to find someone who did.”
He sighed. “Lucinda, what did I say? Did I tell you I didn’t want you?”
“Well. No, but…”
“And did I tell you to wait for my phone call?”
“Yeah, but lots of guys say that and never call.”
“True, but I think I explained on Friday that I wasn’t lots of guys. I think I made it clear I’m a man of his word. Have I done anything to make you think that isn’t true?”
“No.” She should’ve trusted him. She should’ve waited. “I’m sorry, Master.”
“Good. It’s pretty when you say I’m sorry. Do that more often, sweetheart. I like how it sounds. Now. I want you to go outside and wait for me. Don’t talk to anyone. Stand out front, and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Okay. I’ll wait.”
“That’s my girl. And brat?”
“Yes, Master.”
“I’m betting you’re wearing something tight. When I come collect you, we’re going to swing by your apartment and find something more to my taste.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything. His taste.
Chapter Six
She’d gone to Exotica looking for someone else to play with. Because she didn’t trust him. His brat had a lot to learn, and he had a lot to unpack from her past. He zipped his bike along Grand Avenue and toward the entrance of Exotica. The past few days had been crazy at work, but that’s not why he hadn’t called. He wanted her to learn patience, to have to wait until he determined the right time to see her. Not that he didn’t want her to request play, but more that he needed her to learn she wouldn’t be able to goad him into action.
The past few nights when he’d gotten home from a day full of high-risk trading, he’d spent time researching. Her lack of hard limits wasn’t surprising considering her pain threshold, but he didn’t want to push so hard she accused him of abuse. He’d had a sub do that once, and it had nearly made him give up the lifestyle all together. It’s why negotiation was paramount to his future with Lucinda.
He pulled his bike up to the alley behind Exotica and parked. He slipped through the back entrance and scanned the crowd, ensuring she hadn’t disobeyed him. He was pleased to see she wasn’t there and pushed through the front door in search of her. She stood with her hands behind her back in a ridiculously tight dress with only a small shrug to cover her. She had to be freezing, and he nearly snarled at the way the bouncer was eye-fucking her.
“Lucinda, sweethear
t,” he said loud enough for the bouncer to hear, to know she’d been claimed.
She spun and smiled. Jesus, she was stunning. The openness in her face and the way her body seemed to hum, he almost considered kissing her. But he knew the torture would be all that much sweeter for her if he made her wait.
“I’m parked in back. Follow me,” he said. She huffed but obeyed.
He didn’t say anything until they got to the alley where he’d parked his vintage Indian.
“Again with the motorcycle. Do you even own a car?” she asked as soon as she saw it.
“Of course I do. But I’m an enthusiast,” he answered.
“You’re a walking bad boy cliché. All you need is a goatee, a pack of Marlboro reds, and an American eagle back tat, and I’d have fallen into a dozen romance novels.”
He shook his head and handed her his helmet. “I don’t smoke. I don’t like ink. And I can’t have a goatee as a broker and be taken seriously. It’s hard enough to convince people to trust me with the way I look.”
She bit her dark red lip, and he swiped his thumb over it. “I trust you.”
“No, you don’t. Otherwise you wouldn’t be sniffing around Exotica trying to find someone else to ring your bell.”
“I told you why I was here. You didn’t call. You blew me off. What was I supposed to think?”
“It was four days, brat, not four months. You’re going to need to exercise a little patience if you want to stay with me.” He straddled the bike and held his hand out for her to get on behind him.
She snapped the helmet on and glanced down at her dress.
Theo fought a snicker. He’d told her not to wear tight skirts, but the brat didn’t listen to him. He was almost glad now. Lesson learned. If Lucinda thought she could play with fire and get away with it, she was sadly mistaken. He furrowed his brow and curved his fingers, motioning for her to straddle the bike without question. “You’re going to have to hike it up and hope for the best, brat.”
Lucinda tugged on the short skirt, lifting it the few scant inches it took to free her thighs enough to spread them. It wasn’t that the dress wasn’t fucking sexy as hell. He was still a man. He fucking loved looking at women in tight dresses. He understood why she wore them, hell why all women wore them. They looked hot, and men ogled them. It was simple.
Unless you wanted to fuck one of them or play with their pussy, then tight skirts sucked. And Theo liked his woman’s pussy open and available at all times. Like now.
“My ass is going to show.” She nibbled on her lip as she stepped closer to the bike, not looking at him but at the seat behind him.
“Yep. And whose fault is that?”
Lucinda sneered at him as she lifted one leg and quickly flung it over the seat without touching his outstretched hand.
God how he wished he could have been standing next to the bike watching instead when she spread those sexy legs wide and exposed her pussy to the night air. He hoped she wasn’t wearing panties. Served her right. He pulled her arms around him, trying to draw her closer, but her body stayed tense.
“What?” he asked.
“Why are you bothering with me if everything I do is wrong?”
He twisted to look at her, and her hands fell away. “Because teaching you to do things right is what rings my bell. Now snuggle that sexy body up to me and hang on.”
She smiled shyly and wrapped her arms around him. So interesting. She responded to his praise almost as much as she responded to pain. He started his Indian, pulled out of the alley, and headed toward her apartment. He was very much looking forward to this night.
»»•««
Lucinda didn’t know what Theo would think when he saw the inside of her apartment, especially considering his Eden Prairie mansion. She was not a tidy person. But he kept his face neutral as he looked around at her tiny space. She shivered as she imagined it through his eyes. She owned so few possessions, and most of them were secondhand. Even her couch was worn enough that only she knew exactly where to sit to keep from stabbing herself with a coil in a few places.
“How long have you been teaching pottery?” he asked as he followed her down the short hall, passing her studio—a.k.a. her cracker box spare bedroom.
“Almost three years.”
“And you used to work at the Loft?”
Prickles climbed up her neck, but she tried to keep her voice calm, even if she couldn’t look at him when she answered. “Yep.” She opened her tiny closet and pulled out a few dresses with wide skirts. She held one up. “This is from Halloween a few years ago. Does it work?”
He smirked. “Saucy milkmaid?”
She grinned. “I was very popular at the after party. Two guys took turns fucking me while a third watched.”
He didn’t even blink. Damn, was there nothing that raised his ire?
“I hope the third one got his turn too. It’d be a shame just to watch and never get to feel that pussy wrapped around your cock.”
She dropped the dress and planted her hands on her hips. “How would you know? It’s not like you fucked me.”
He stepped closer. “You aren’t going to push me into this, brat. We fuck when I say we fuck. You think you can shock me, get me mad about the other guys who have had you? I don’t give a shit about any of them. They’re not in the room with us, and they clearly didn’t come back for another round.”
Tears stung and she looked down. “Thanks for that, asshole.”
He gripped her chin and tilted her gaze to meet his. “First of all, don’t cuss at me. And certainly don’t call me anything besides Master. I won’t tolerate it. Second of all, that’s their loss, not yours. They didn’t know how to handle you, brat. I do. Now find a dress that isn’t a costume and let’s go. I have plans for us.”
Her breath hitched. Her body was soft, and she couldn’t stop imagining what plans looked like. She grabbed a simple black cotton dress with a flared skirt and started toward the bathroom, but he grabbed her wrist and stopped her.
“Change here. I want to see that gorgeous body.”
She grinned and pulled her tight dress over her head.
“No panties, sweetheart?”
“Easier access,” she answered.
He stepped forward and slipped a finger through her folds. She knew she was wet. She had been from the moment she’d climbed onto his motorcycle, probably even from the moment he’d called her.
He didn’t say anything, just circled his fingers around her clit and pulled them back to lick them. She grew light-headed watching his tongue dart out and lap at her juices.
“Hurry along,” he said when he finished, as if this wasn’t anything.
She pulled the dress over her head, and he turned her to face the wall, placing her hands carefully on each side of her head and tipping her hips slightly.
“Stay still, brat. Keep your hands flat on the wall.” He stroked his palms down her arms and reached around to cup her breasts. Her bra was a thin lace that did little to conceal her nipples through the soft material of her dress. It was strapless, which worked out perfectly since the new dress had spaghetti straps holding it up.
She shivered as he released her tits to smooth his hands down her front. He placed one spread firmly on her belly and let the other roam down to grip her thigh.
Lucinda swayed, a soft moan escaping her lips.
He set his lips on her ear. “Don’t move.” And then he reached for the hem of the dress with both hands, pulled it up easily, and dropped to his knees. She expected tongue, but it was his teeth that sank into her ass, and she moaned louder. He bit each cheek in several places, and she rocked back into him. He held her firm and continued to nip until her legs started to shake. Then his tongue slipped out and circled her forbidden hole, lips pressing and tongue pushing into her ass as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
“Theo,” she begged, pushing back farther. It was dark and dirty, feeling his tongue there. No one had ever done that, and she felt deli
ciously wrong to allow it. She stepped her legs wider.
“My dirty slut,” he murmured. “You like my tongue in your ass? Tasting your spice?”
“Mmm,” she moaned louder still.
He pulled out and bit her again, harder this time so she was on the verge of coming. The pinch of pain was almost enough, but not quite.
“Theo,” she begged again. But he stood and turned her around, plunging into her mouth and grabbing her tits through the dress. The kiss went on and on, and he pinched and pulled at her nipples until she was whimpering. Finally he pulled back, breathless.
“I’m going to love pounding into that ass, hearing you beg me to go harder.”
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t say anything for the images assaulting her brain.
He stepped back and wrapped his hands around her shoulders. “Now tell me what happened at the Loft.”
She blinked and dropped her head. Deep shame moved in a red flush from her neck to her cheeks. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you won’t want me if you hear.” It was the truth and almost too painful to say.
“Did you harm a child?”
She shook her head.
“Okay. Then what was it?”
“I can’t…”
He dropped his hands and turned his back to her. Defeat swamped her. He was going to leave. “Lucinda, you will tell me. But if you need to do it in a different way, I’ll give you that opportunity. You tell me when you’re ready, and I’ll ask you again. For now, grab your coat and whatever you need to stay the night.”
She nodded in relief. Part of her wanted him to force it out of her, let her face the music of what she’d done and see if he could accept her regardless. But the other part, the part that ached for him and all that he could give her, wouldn’t let her say anything. Not now. Not yet. Not until he was done teaching her.
She grabbed her toiletry bag and clothes to wear tomorrow and tossed them all in a backpack, along with her wallet. She should tell someone where she was going. She should have told someone the first time, but the truth was she didn’t have anyone. No one she knew well enough in the community to disclose anything to, no one she knew well enough in real life who wouldn’t report back to Julian. Julian had told her to stay away from the community, to lay low and keep her head down. But surely he wouldn’t begrudge her search for a Dom now, after all this time.
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