To Command and Collar [Masters of the Shadowlands 6] (35 page)

Kim’s hand felt empty, as if yearning to take his again. She stared up at him. He looked tired, but oh, his face was even more darkly tanned, his black hair shaggy, brushing the collar of his blue short-sleeved shirt. The touch of his hand—just the damned touch—had sent a thrill through her.

For a moment, his eyes had started to smolder, but now he looked remote. Cold. Like he’d been at the auction. But that expression had been for the slavers—never for her. Did he no longer…?

She swallowed. “I—”
“They’re here!” Jessica yelled. People turned to look.
Dan walked out and held the door for Kari, who held a tiny bundle in her arms.
The baby
. “Oh, look how little,” Kim whispered.
Master R tilted his head. “You haven’t seen the child yet, have you?”
“But…”
I want to stay with you.
“Go see the baby, Kimberly.”
An order. A definite
go away
. A frozen ball took up residence in the pit of her stomach.

She shouldn’t have come. Why had she been so silly, building a castle of dreams made of sand? It only took a wave to wash it away.

She made her feet cross the patio and joined the women surrounding Dan, Kari, and the baby. Beth frowned, cast a quick look at Master R, and put an arm around Kim’s waist. Andrea stepped to her other side, her brows pulling together.

Kari smiled a welcome and glanced in Master R’s direction. “It’s about time you came back, Kim. He’s been a bear.”
“No kidding,” Dan muttered.
Why did hearing that make her feel better? Not that it changed anything.
Accept it, Kim. He’s made the decision for you
. And she needed to concentrate on her friends now. Not spoil Kari’s moment with unhappiness. She forced a smile “Let’s see this new baby.”
Kari flipped back the light blanket to reveal the baby’s face and grinned at the “Awwws” and “Oooos.” “Meet Zane.” Black hair, blue eyes like Dan’s, a little chin and nose like Kari’s.
Grumbling, Dan retreated from the crowd of women, casting a glance over his shoulder as if checking to be sure his two charges were safe.
Unable to resist, Kim reached out.
Look at the tiny hand
. His fingers closed around her thumb. “He’s precious, Kari.”
Kari grinned. “He really is.” The tenderness in her eyes as she stared at her baby, then across to Dan, matched the way Dan’s face softened, showing his pride and…love.
Kim swallowed, her throat clogging with envy, then said, “I missed the baby shower, but Gabi told me this is a baby celebration, so I got you a present this morning. Got him a present, I mean.” She dug into the canvas bag she had over her shoulder and handed over the gaily wrapped package.
Jessica took Zane as Kari opened the gift, then laughed and held up the blue onesie to show the writing on the front:
I give the orders around here
, then the back:
Master Zane
. Kari gurgled a laugh. “Oh, it’s true. He’s totally in charge. When Zane cries, even the big dom of the house comes running.” She touched the baby’s hair. “And I love it. It’s just so…” Kari smiled down at her son.
Satisfying, Kim filled in. Up at all hours of the night, tending to every need. And Kari was happy.
Was that what a master got back from a relationship?
Kim shook her head. She’d never tended much except boats—then again, even boats need care. Patching and cleaning, oiling and barnacle scraping, doing all the tedious things that kept it running well. She never begrudged the chores, because a sturdy vessel would hold up in a storm, would bring you back to shore, would never let you down. She looked over at Master R. He was her boat.
Dan worked his way to Kari and kissed her. “I set up the carrier and monitor in the little living room for when you’re ready to feed him and put him down for his nap.” Grinning, he took the baby. “My turn to show him off before he decides he’s starving.” He snuggled his son against him and headed toward the doms.
Andrea grinned. “He’s so proud, it’s cute.”
Kari snickered. “Don’t be a smarty. Can you imagine how your Cullen would act?”
“Pretty much like that. Wouldn’t they all?” Andrea’s smile softened as Cullen touched Zane’s cheek, pleasure filling his face. “He wants children, so we’ll be locking up the dungeon furniture sooner or later.”
“Hiding the equipment?” Beth stared at her scar-faced dom and the gentle way he’d taken the baby’s fingers as if marveling at how small next to his big hand. Beth’s eyes narrowed. “That’s what Nolan was drawing last night—dungeon furniture that converts into bedroom furniture.”
“If he sells it, he’ll get rich. Richer.” Jessica grinned. “Dan and Kari have started a trend. Look at those so-called hard-asses.”
Kim sighed. The doms’ faces turned gentle when they looked at the baby. Then each would gaze over at his submissive as if imagining her with his child. “I bet some birth control pills are going to get dumped in the next few months.”
“Dios, after seeing the baby, I might not protest too much,” Andrea muttered. “Maybe I’ll let Cullen marry me after all.”
“Respectability sucks.” Jessica pouted. “Z said no babies until we get married, and Mom’s insisting on a church wedding. You know how long those take to plan?”
“I know the feeling,” Beth grumbled. “I still can’t believe mine bribed Nolan to delay our wedding. With wine, no less. Men are so easy.”
Kari laughed. “I can’t believe you took less than two weeks for a honeymoon.”
Beth colored. “It wasn’t as if I got to see much of anything besides the bed anyway.”
Smiling, Kim watched as Dan and his son got to Sam. Sam already had grown children, didn’t he? He smiled at the baby and said something to Dan that made him laugh.
Then Master R reached out, and Dan actually put the baby in his arms. He held the little bundle easily, and a smile flashed in his dark face as tiny fists appeared out of the blanket. He rubbed his knuckles over the baby’s cheek, and Kim remembered how he’d do that with her when he was especially pleased or tender.
As he passed the baby to Dan, he smiled, and maybe only Kim saw the touch of envy. Her heart wrenched when, as the other men had done, his gaze came to rest on her, the heat, the sheer desire so potent that her feet started across the patio. Just because he’d shown her his need.
But he shook his head and turned away, checking the food he was cooking on the giant barbecue.
She halted.
He doesn’t want me. Or he doesn’t want to
. She wanted to give him everything. Starting with herself. But he didn’t feel the same. She stood in the center of the patio. Needing to retreat. Needing to go forward. Still as torn as she’d been since the night he bought her.
Sam had been talking with Cullen, but he paused. He stared at her for a minute, his face expressionless, then leaned over and spoke to Master R.
Master R’s muscles contracted beneath his thin cotton shirt before he slowly turned. With an unreadable expression, he walked over and stood beside her, pretending to watch Kari. “He’s a pretty baby, no?” He didn’t touch her. Didn’t smile.
“Yes.” She stared at her feet. He’d only said he loved her that one time. Dammit, she shouldn’t have come. This was unbearable. She glanced up and saw the smoldering need in his gaze, like a surge of electricity to her own desire. And then he buried it again.
“Damn you,” she whispered.
He frowned. “Chiquita, what is wrong?” He touched her, the graze of his knuckles, the tenderness exactly as with the baby. This man would never take his loved ones for granted; she knew that right down to the bottom of her heart. He’d cherish and protect, care for with everything in him.
He doesn’t want me though
. But she wanted him. And she was tired of trying to make a decision.
Let him decide for both of us—hey, that’s what he wants, right? To be in charge?
And suddenly, it was so easy after all. Turning her head, she kissed his fingers and saw him freeze. She let her bag drop to the pavement and slipped down to her knees.
Over the pounding of her heart, she heard a squeak. Jessica.
She pulled her bag closer. It held something she’d cried over, thrown across the room, kissed, hated and cursed, and then cuddled at night. The concrete was hot against her legs. The scent of the ocean hung in the air as she took out the collar he’d given her, the one she’d found on the stairs the night of the auction. The leather was smooth, and she traced her fingers over the words
Master Raoul’s gatita.
Am I still?
She laid it over her palms, trying to bow her head but failing. She needed to see his face or she might die. She raised it up. “May I wear your collar, Master?” she asked and heard no sound on the patio at all except the surging of the ocean and the hammering of her heart.
His silence terrified her. For a moment, his eyes kindled as if a fire had lit behind them, and his breath ran ragged. Then his face grew remote… Her Master R had stepped behind his walls. His voice was gentle but firm. “No. I’m sorry, Kimberly. I cannot be your master.”
Like a knife wound, his words sliced through her, cutting open her flesh, driving ruthlessly into her chest. The pain arrived a second later. Her protest escaped before she could think. “But… You wanted this. Wanted me.”
He rubbed his palm over his mouth, his eyes unhappy. “I did,” he said so softly she barely heard him. His voice strengthened. “But it cannot work between us. You don’t want a master. You never did and even less now, after what you’ve been through.”
“I do.”
“Can you be that sure, cariño?” he asked so softly.
She started to say yes, then caught his intent look. “No,” she said honestly and blinked back the tears. “But I’ll regret it all my life if we don’t try. I want to try.” She swallowed. “Master, please.”
He just looked at her, and his gaze filled with pain. “I…can’t. No.”
She bowed her head, trying not to give in to tears. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry, no matter what happened.
Master R hadn’t moved. It was up to her to get out of here. Out of his way. Out of his party and his life. Her chest had hollowed out, an aching hole where her heart had been. This was far worse than leaving him before. At least then, she’d had hope.
She put the collar back in her bag, touching it like a tiny being that had died. Her legs didn’t cooperate when she tried to stand.
A hand appeared in front of her face. Not Master R’s thick-boned, powerful hand. This was lean, fingernails groomed, a dark watch on the wrist. She wrapped her fingers around his palm, and the man pulled her to her feet with a graceful strength.
Master Z. When he tucked her into his side, she leaned against him. “Don’t quit yet, little one,” he whispered in her ear.
“Can you see she gets home, Z?” Master R asked. The smoothness and lilt had fled his voice, adding to her sorrow.
“No, I don’t think so, Raoul.”
She started to say she’d get herself home, but Z’s arm around her squeezed the air from her lungs.
Master R’s face tightened, anger shadowing his eyes. “Don’t interfere in what you don’t understand, my friend,” he said, a threat hanging in the air.
“I think I understand quite well,” Z said mildly. “Your marriage left scars. And you don’t want to be hurt again, but this little one keeps doing it. She’s finally made up her mind, but you can’t be sure and aren’t about to risk it again. Unfortunately, she can’t give you a guarantee, especially after everything she’s been through. Do I have it about right?”
She’d hurt him when she’d left? Oh God, she really had. She’d been so stupidly focused on herself, thinking he was self-sufficient. She hadn’t looked at what she was doing to him. “I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered, wincing at the misery flickering across his face.
“This is not the place to discuss this,” Master R said tightly. “Take her ho—”
Z smiled faintly. “This is exactly the place. Nothing in life is guaranteed, Raoul.”
“I know that.” Master R’s gaze dropped to her face, unyielding. Unhappy. “Kimberly, I tried living in a relationship without…being who I am. I can’t do that again. And you cannot submit to a master, not after what you’ve been through.”
“But I did. I can.” Yet she wasn’t totally sure herself. This wouldn’t be a limited few days, and she’d already capsized on him once. Why should he trust her? How could he trust her? “Is there,” she said slowly, “a test? A shakedown cruise? Something to prove to us both that it can work?”
She saw his spark of hope flare, then die. He smiled ruefully. “There’s no—”
“Traditionally,” Z said casually, “a submissive is whipped when receiving her collar as a way of showing her submission, her trust in her master.”
Whipped? Her mind went blank, and she tried to pull away from Z.
The iron bar of his arm didn’t release. “You’ve been whipped in front of strangers, little one. Would you like to enjoy one in front of friends—given by your master?”
Whip
. A shiver ran through her, and Master R growled, his hand fisting. “Damn you. She can’t—”
So many
she can’ts
coming from him.
I can do anything if I want it enough
. Maybe she did want it. Just as Master R had replaced her horrible nightmares of other men by making love to her, now she could replace memories of cruelty with his care. And perhaps create something for them both to fall back on. She’d never trusted him more or felt so close to him as after the fireplay scene. If he wanted her to do this, then she knew she could…and it might help her doubts as well. “Yes, please, Master R,” she whispered. “Yes.”
Silence. “No.”
Catch-22. If she accepted his mastery, then he had the right to say no, but if he said no, then she had no master. She bent her head. “I want the tradition if it pleases Master. I will take any pain you want to give me, take anything you do. We both need an answer.”
Silence. Then a heavy sigh. “This master is going to kill Z.”
Z chuckled. His arm dropped from her, and he simply walked away.
Master R laid his hand against Kim’s face. He studied her, seeing her in the way no one else had ever done. “You would face your fears—bear pain for me—just for a chance to be together?”
She nodded.
He looked away, brows drawn. Thinking.
Hope started to tap-dance over her heart. She held so, so still, not wanting to interrupt his thoughts.
“Yes.” His expression changed. His shoulders straightened. His mouth firmed. Everything about him coalesced into the master she loved. “Then, gatita, it would please me to test your submission in front of our friends.”

How had this happened? Raoul stared down at Kimberly, trying to batter down the hope rising inside him. She couldn’t do this, couldn’t truly submit.
And, if she could, what would it prove? Really?
But if she could face her worst fears for him, how could he not do as much for her?
If she could submit to him, here, in fear and in public, he’d know that she’d work as hard as he would to make a D/s relationship succeed.
A shiver ran through her, and he pulled her into his arms, giving her comfort. Whether she succeeded or not, he would withhold nothing. She needed to trust him, to want to please him. After so long apart, to do this now was foolish—yet neither of them could tolerate waiting. He knew that as well.
He rested his cheek on the top of her head, inhaling her light fragrance. He’d forgotten— tried to forget—how she fit against him, how her strong arms would hold him as tightly as he held her.
After a minute, Raoul lifted his head and motioned for Cullen. “You know where the dungeon is. Can you get the box labeled
patio
and set it up at the archway? Bring wrist and ankle cuffs as well.”
“Got it, buddy.” Cullen grinned at Kimberly and tugged her hair. “Welcome home, pet. Why didn’t you come over and say hi last night?”
She gave him a shrug, looking away, her body stiff.
Raoul frowned. She wasn’t usually rude. She relaxed when Cullen moved away.
Last night
. Cullen would have been playing bartender at the Shadowlands all evening.
“Come over and say hi.”
Obviously, Kim had been at the club, probably with Gabi. Maybe conversing with guilty little Sally. Kim had met his family in the hospital; he’d heard them talking in the hall. It didn’t take a calculus formula to figure out the answer. But this was not the time to deal with family issues. Instead… He rubbed his cheek on her silky hair and asked, “Did you get the furry present I sent you?”
Her laugh—how long had it been since he’d heard her soft laugh. “My Ari. He’s wonderful and…”
Contently, Raoul held her, ignoring the conversations around them, and listened to her telling of returning to work, of the big dog, of her life. As Cullen and Nolan set up chains from the bolts in the patio cover beams, he answered her questions about Costa Rica.
She’d missed him and tried to call him. The knowledge was far too pleasing. “I missed you, sumisita,” he admitted in return. She was being gut-wrenchingly honest and more courageous than he was. “My home is empty without you, and I couldn’t bear the silence.”
Her arms tightened around him, and he bent down and took her lips. Soft and welcoming as she molded against him, keeping nothing of herself in return. Her body was fragrant and even lusher than when she’d left. He wanted to explore, to fill his palms with her breasts.
When he lifted his head, she made a tiny sound of protest. One a man should not make, but a man might feel. After a slow breath, he noticed Cullen had set cuffs on the table nearby.
Time to start. One by one, he slowly fastened the cuffs on his sumisa, cherishing the way she held out an ankle, her wrist, offering herself. Her pleasure was obvious in her open stance and her curving lips. She wanted his cuffs.
He ran his finger around the insides to ensure they weren’t too tight, then rose and checked the setup at the edge of his patio. Chains dangled from rings he’d installed in the support beam. Two more chains lay at the base of the four-by-four posts. Ready.
Was Kimberly? Her breathing had sped up, and she was biting her lip. But she nodded firmly. “I’m ready, Master.”
He’d always known she’d break his heart. His hand slipped down under the hem of her sundress and between her legs. Small panties, already damp. Her muscles were tensed with anxiety, but her pussy showed her arousal. Maybe, maybe she could do this. His hopes flared. “Remove your clothing.”
Her breath hitched, and a flush grew in her cheeks. But she pulled the sundress over her head in one smooth move. The sight of her breasts—yes, fuller than before—sent a bolt of lust through him.
She pushed down her tiny panties—the ruffles matched the ones on the dress, he noticed appreciatively.
“Are you still ready?”
“Yes, Master.” Her lips formed around the word as if she liked the taste of it in her mouth, and he was grateful she hadn’t hated it like she had the word
slave
—he enjoyed very much the sound of his title when she said it.
Mine
. His heart uttered the word again and again. Submitting to him. Nothing could give a dom more of a rush in a scene. In life? Nothing filled a dom’s heart so fully.
Unable to resist, he pulled her against him, curved his fingers around her nape, and plundered her sweet lips. He ran his hand over her ass, massaging the roundness, still cool, but soon to be glowing with heat.
He held her eyes, rejoicing to see them so clear and free of fear. “I love you, gatita.”