Taming Rex

by Becca Jameson

  She searched his gaze at the same time he did hers, wondering if he could handle playing with her and then facing her as equals on Monday.

  Rex was nothing like he was at work. He was confident and totally in control. Even his voice was different. Lower. Commanding. Sexy.

  “I don’t mind at all, Sir. What about you?”

  One side of his mouth lifted in almost a smirk before he spoke. “You want me to take off my pants?” he joked.

  She glanced down to find a lovely bulge at the front of his dark jeans. “I wouldn’t mind a bit, but that’s not what I meant. I was referring to myself. Will you be able to keep our two personas separate, or will it make you nervous to face me at work after you’ve seen me naked?”

  He lifted a brow. “Not at all.” His fingers slid from her chin down to her cleavage. He traced the edge of her bustier. “We’ll stick with just the skirt today. Leave some mystery for another day.”

  She nodded. “Okay, Sir.” Part of her was secretly disappointed that he wouldn’t be playing with her breasts tonight. They were heavy and swollen from the bustier. Her nipples tingled against the leather. She enjoyed breast play. More than most submissives she supposed. But she wouldn’t say anything to influence Rex.

  Rex rounded behind her, slid his hands down her sides, and lowered the zipper on her skirt. He bent down to ease it over her hips and off her body. She stepped out. “I love that you don’t wear shoes when you play.” He smoothed his hands up her calves as he stood.

  She didn’t respond. The reasons she didn’t wear shoes were very simple. For one, being barefoot helped indirectly distinguish her as a submissive and not a Domme. Two, she had never been able to master the art of wearing heels. How women did that was beyond her. She always felt like she would trip and fall. They might be sexy, but they were too much trouble.

  He patted her hip. “Climb onto the bench.”

  It wasn’t hard to mount. There wasn’t much to it.

  “Do you mind if I restrain you?” he asked as he slid one hand into her hair and smoothed it over her shoulder so that it hung down one side of her.

  “No, Sir.” In truth, she enjoyed being restrained. It added to the intensity of the scene when she knew she couldn’t easily wiggle out of the path of a flogger or paddle or even a hand. The act of securing her alone eased her into a zone.

  Rex wrapped his fingers around her wrist, giving her the feeling of restraint before he started attaching her to the bench. “I wouldn’t ordinarily secure a submissive on our first scene together. It might frighten them. But this is different. We know each other. I can sense you’re at ease.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She lifted her gaze to meet his, shaking a few strands of hair from her face. It wasn’t until he crouched down to one side of her that she realized there were far more straps hanging from the bench than she’d originally noticed.

  Rex wrapped a Velcro cuff around her wrist, but another one covered her forearm on the armrest. As he moved to her leg, he attached her ankle and her shin just below her knee. By the time he repeated the same on her other side, she was breathing heavily.

  She could still lift and lower her head, but the padded bar at her waist prevented much movement. Her knees were spread wide, and the black lace thong she wore provided very little coverage. For a moment, she closed her eyes, reminding herself that she didn’t care that she had to work with this man on Monday morning. She could and would keep her two lives separate. As long as he could also.

  Rex rounded to her head again, his fingers stroking her hair as he spoke near her ear. “Algorithm for red. What would you like to use for yellow?”

  “Parallel, Sir,” she responded without hesitation, remembering she still had no idea why Master Dayton had provided her with that word.

  “Another interesting choice,” Rex mused. “Use it if you need me to slow down. I don’t care how many times you’ve been flogged before, you haven’t been flogged by me, and that’s what matters. This scene is meant to be enjoyed. If I go too fast or too hard, use the safewords.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She sighed as his hand smoothed down her back and then cupped her lower cheek, molding to it, warming it.

  The moment he stopped touching her, she found she missed the contact. Obviously, he needed to grab whatever flogger or floggers he intended to use and get set up, but she wished he would have continued to caress her skin longer.

  She heard the whoosh of leather in the air several moments before it made contact. She’d watched many floggings, so she knew Rex would be easing into the scene, getting a feel for the implement in his hand as he gradually inched closer to her until finally just the tips of soft leather hit her butt.

  She let her eyes slide closed and her head tip lower as she enjoyed the contact. He must have been holding one in each hand, based on the frequency and angle of each swat. He would be swinging the floggers in front of him in an intricate figure eight design. It was artistic, and she enjoyed watching when she had the opportunity.

  Tonight, however, she was on the receiving end, and so far, she wasn’t disappointed. Rex knew exactly what he was doing. As the pressure increased, he also stepped closer. More of each strand of leather struck her, landing up and down her butt cheeks and thighs. They would be pink and sore when he finished. Exactly how she liked it.

  Rex stopped after several minutes and palmed her bottom. “Your skin’s warming up nicely,” he murmured. “It’s a lovely shade of pink now. Can you take more?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She could take a lot more. There was nothing worse than scening with a Dom who was afraid to strike her hard enough to cause a sting. It left her dissatisfied. Sometimes she found herself in a situation where it was appropriate to spell it out for the Dominant and inform him she wanted more. Sometimes, it was apparent the Dom was giving her everything he was capable of or comfortable with. She wondered if Rex was the kind of Dom who could push her as far as she craved.

  Moments later, he was back in action, each swat a bit more forceful, warming her skin further as she let herself slide into her happy place. For her, the release she got from being struck like this was addictive. If Rex continued on the path he seemed to be following, she would crave him again.

  She needed to shake thoughts of a possible second scene from her mind. This entire arrangement was an anomaly. It would be absurd to expect that they might do this again. As it was, she was concerned about their future interactions at work.

  A sudden swat landed much harder, right in the center of her left cheek. She moaned as she clenched her pussy. Oh yeah, he was good. Very good. She lifted her head, elongating her neck while forcing her butt higher, her belly dipping.

  Rex picked up the pace, each swat from the leather strips landing in closer succession, making it nearly impossible for her to concentrate on anything except the increasing burn she loved and the way her clit swelled, rubbing against her thong with each jostling movement. Maybe she should’ve taken off the thong. Then again, Rex hadn’t asked her to, and she wasn’t the sort of sub who made suggestions. She’d learned that kind of attempted topping rarely worked out in her favor. More often than not she would be left needy and frustrated if she attempted to control someone’s scene.

  It was not unexpected when Rex paused to check on her again. He rubbed her heated butt and then slid a hand to her lower back as he stepped to her side. “How are you doing, Erica?”

  “Great, Sir. Thank you.” Except her nipples were swollen and rubbing against the front of her bustier every time she moved.

  Rex’s hand eased up her back, making her wish she wasn’t wearing the bustier at all so that she could feel his fingers on her skin. When he reached her bare shoulder blades, he danced his fingertips back and forth until goose bumps raised all over her arms.

  She wished she could rest her head, but this particular bench forced her to hold herself upright, adding to the challenge, giving her something else to concentrate on.

  His fingers slid into her hair and he dragged the
m slowly through the length until it fell over her shoulder. He did it again two more times, seemingly in no hurry to return to flogging her. She’d give anything to know what he was thinking and if he was as aroused as she was. Did he get off on dominating her?

  Rationally, she knew that just like some submissives enjoyed impact play for nothing more than the release of getting struck while others found it very arousing, Doms were the same. Some were satisfied with the act of topping another person; others got turned on by the submission and liked to fuck in the end.

  What sort of Dom was Rex? More importantly, how was he reacting to her in particular?

  The way he touched her so tenderly made her slide further under his control. She was breathing heavily now, wishing he would slide his fingers around to her breasts, reach under the edge of her bustier, and flick her nipples. Just the thought of him touching her sexually made her shiver.

  “Mmm.” Rex made that simple noise without comment. He probably noticed her body trembling. Finally, he returned to standing behind her, picked up his floggers, and resumed swishing them through the air. Seconds later, he was striking her again. Gently at first and then harder.

  She moaned as his level of impact reached her sweet spot. Hard enough to make her squirm but not hard enough to leave lasting bruises. As he resumed his rhythm, she let her head lower and her eyes slide closed. It took some concentration to hold herself up, but she found the effort added to the experience. Prolonged it, perhaps. She could grow fond of this particular type of bench.

  Rex worked up and down her bottom and thighs, the warmth increasing as he continued. When he added her inner thighs, she flinched, shocked by how close she was to orgasm from the additional intimate contact. She panted as he resumed striking her butt and then her thighs, but the next time he ventured between her legs, she couldn’t stop a moan from escaping.

  Her heart was racing, the possibility of reaching orgasm any second making her dizzy. Suddenly, two hands were on her butt, molding, pulling her cheeks apart, caressing her heated skin. “Do you need to come, Erica?” His voice was deep, gravelly.

  “Yes, Sir. Please.” In contrast, she heard a higher pitch coming from her own mouth, pleading. She hoped he wouldn’t hold that against her.

  Expert fingers wasted no time reaching between her legs, shoving her thong to one side, and thrusting into her. The friction of her thong against her clit combined with the sudden fullness inside her was all it took. She cried out as her channel gripped his fingers, milking them.

  The orgasm was powerful, consuming her. In addition, it lasted longer than usual, especially when he stepped closer, reached around her body with his free hand, and rubbed her clit with his thumb. The single orgasm turned into two, shocking her as her body shook from the release.

  She was shaking when he finally eased his pressure and then removed his fingers. It seemed like her arms weren’t going to hold her up any longer.

  Rex worked fast to remove the eight restraints holding her in place. “Stay with me, Erica. Let me get these released,” he stated as he moved from one side of her body to the other, jerking the Velcro loose from each point of contact. Seconds later, he was behind her again, arms around her waist, easing her upright and then lifting her onto the floor.

  She was chilled, weak, more wrung out than usual.

  He wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and helped her walk away from the bench with an arm at her waist, supporting her. Her vision was too blurry to focus on anything except the floor at her feet as she shuffled forward.

  When they reached a black leather couch, Rex spun her around and helped her lower her body onto it, leaning her to one side so that she could rest her head on the soft, cool arm of the sofa. He crouched in front of her and brushed her hair away from her face. “Just gonna clean up the station. Will you be okay? I’ll be right back.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she breathed as she let her eyes close again. She was marginally aware of the room around her, muted voices, moaning, the sound of whips. She tried to focus, but it was too hard, and luckily Rex was back minutes later, dropping his toy bag next to the couch and then lowering onto the leather seat next to her.

  He eased his arms around her and hauled her against his side, one hand threading into her hair. His lips landing on her temple, surprising her. “Just rest. I’ve got you.”

  Erica was beyond aware of how she slumped against his chest, how his fingers massaged her scalp, how his other hand wrapped around her and made her feel safe. Secure. Cared for.

  He was an excellent Dom.

  She could get used to this.

  But he was her coworker. She might be playing with fire.

  Chapter 11

  When Dayton entered Zodiac a little after one in the morning, he was hoping to find Erica. He’d been kicking himself all day for not exchanging information with her last night. It had seemed too forward to ask to see her outside of the club after doing just one scene with her, especially since her mind was still cloudy from subspace.

  Oh, and let’s not forget she’s fifteen years younger than you. He’d gone back and forth all morning, unable to get her out of his mind while he rationalized his attraction for a woman so young.

  Today hadn’t gone as smoothly as planned. He’d had to work late, and then his sister had desperately needed him to watch her kids when her babysitter got sick at the last minute. He hated telling her no since it was her anniversary and her husband had made reservations at a nice restaurant.

  Unfortunately, they hadn’t gotten home until midnight, which meant Dayton had been pacing their living room for over an hour, anxious to get to Zodiac.

  He hadn’t discussed seeing Erica again—not for a scene or any other reason, but he’d known the moment she left last night that he wanted to see her again. Maybe he was making a mistake letting her occupy space in his head, but the only way he could be sure it was a bad idea to see her again would be to simply do it. He could ask her out. Take her on a real date. Either she would prove to be far too immature for him and help him shake her from his thoughts, or…not. And then what? What if it turned out she was as fun and cute and as mature as she seemed? He’d cross that bridge later.

  He glanced around the club, hoping, praying. There was zero guarantee Erica would be there two nights in a row, or even ever again. She’d been a guest last night.

  When he didn’t immediately find her in the main room, he wandered into the recovery room. And then he saw her. She was sitting in the corner of a black leather sofa, wrapped in a blanket, legs curled under her. She was sipping a bottle of water, her head turned to a man next to her.

  Dayton forced himself not to feel jealous. After all, he didn’t own her. If she’d come tonight hoping to play, it would stand to reason that she would have found someone to scene with her.

  The guy next to her had his body turned at an angle, one elbow on the back of the sofa, his fingers toying with a lock of her gorgeous hair. Intimate. Familiar.

  If Dayton had any sense, he would turn around and leave the room. But his mind didn’t send that message to his body, so he apparently stood in the doorway long enough to cause her to look in his direction.

  When Erica saw him, her eyes lit up and she smiled. “Dayton.” She waved him over.

  Huh. Interesting.

  The man next to her had hair almost as dark as hers, and Dayton was confident he flinched when he spotted Dayton. Dayton didn’t remember ever seeing him before. He approached, but he had reservations about doing so.

  “Hey,” she murmured when he was close enough to hear. There were other people in the room in various stages of recovery. They needed to keep their voices low.

  “Hey yourself.”

  “I was wondering if you might show up.”

  He tucked the tips of his fingers in the fronts of his pockets, feeling out of sorts which was unusual for him, especially because he was standing, hovering over the two of them. “Yeah, my sister needed me to watch her kids tonight. Just now broke a
way.”

  Erica’s smile grew. “Ahhh. That’s so sweet of you.”

  Dayton shrugged. “No big deal. They’re six and eight. No diapers. Early bedtimes. Easy, really.”

  The dark-haired man stood and held out a hand. “Rex.”

  “Dayton.”

  Rex shuffled to one side and pointed at the spot he’d occupied. “Sit. I was just about to get a drink.”

  Dayton furrowed his brow. “You sure? I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Rex shook his head. “Nope. It’s all good. She’s recovered. We were just talking.”

  Dayton slowly took Rex’s spot, not sorry to have been given this gift, but uneasy about it all the same. It wasn’t cool to hone in on another Dom’s sub at any point during a scene or after.

  Rex gave Erica’s shoulder a brief squeeze, and then he left the room.

  Erica watched him as he retreated, chewing on the corner of her lower lip.

  “I seriously didn’t mean to run him off,” Dayton stated, rubbing his palms on his thighs.

  Erica shifted her attention to him. “He’s fine. We actually work together.”

  Dayton’s eyes widened. “Did you scene with him?” That seemed odd.

  “Yeah. It was a surprise to me too. I’m still feeling strange about it, but we sort of clicked.”

  Dayton swallowed over the lump in his throat. He’d thought he clicked with her too. Yesterday. He wanted to reach out and play with a strand of her hair like Rex had been doing, but that seemed too familiar. He glanced down at where the blanket was parted to reveal a black bustier that pushed up her fantastic tits.

  “I looked around for you,” she stated, her voice softer.

  He met her gaze and smiled. “Sorry I wasn’t here. I had an amazing time last night.”

  “Me too.” She flushed, a gorgeous pink crawling up her cheeks. She didn’t seem to still be in a subspace that would make conversation incoherent.

  “How long ago did you finish your scene?”