On His Terms (18 page)

He decided to shower in the guest bathroom, and when he headed downstairs to grab his keys, he found her exactly where she was supposed to be, kneeling up. The ends of her hair were still damp.

“Impressive.”

“I am such a very good sub, Sir.”

“Stand up, lift your skirt, turn your back to me, then grab your ankles and ask me to slap you for being so saucy.”

She did exactly what he said, but not in the way he intended.

She stood with the grace he demanded, despite the heels. And she flipped up the skirt, exposing her naked rear. No underwear. God save him. She performed an exquisite pivot then spread her legs so far apart that she revealed her cunt to him. She took her time and exaggerated her motions as she reached for her ankles.

“Stay there,” he said.

He went into the guest powder room and grabbed a condom. Minx wanted to play with fire…? He rejoined her and teased her pussy with his fingers. “Freshly shaven?”

“Yes, Sir. You may want to replace your razor blade before using it.”

So damn hot.

He slapped her cunt, hard.

She froze, then a moment later, she pushed her bottom back towards him. “Again,” she demanded. “Please, Sir. Again.”

She was impossible to resist. Three more times, he gave her what she begged for before dropping his trousers. Looking at her moist pussy, he vigorously fisted his cock then rolled on a condom. He gripped her hips and dragged her backwards to meet his thrust, impaling her heated sheath.

She cried out from obvious shock.

“Wow, Sir!”

He fucked her hard, holding her securely but penetrating deep, making it impossible for her to breathe.

He used her like the sub she said she was. He didn’t try to pleasure her, he satisfied himself in her body.

“Oh, Sir, I want to come,” she said when he spurted jism into the condom.

“You will have to wait,” he said, giving a final thrust to drain the last drop. He pulled out his cock, and helped her to stand.

She faced him as she smoothed her skirt into place.

In another test, he extended the used latex. “Be a good sub and dispose of this and the wrapper.”

“My pleasure, Sir.”

Her response made him blink. She bent to scoop the wrapper from the floor, then she took the filled latex from him. Without a single word of protest or wrinkling her nose, she went into the small bathroom. A few moments later, he heard the sound of water running in the sink.

He had finished securing his pants when she sashayed into the room. “What are you up to?”

“I want to come, Sir. I figure behaving will help me earn it.” She flashed her rear as she grabbed her purse. “Besides, I like it when you lose control and fuck me all wild-like.”

“After you.” Until this trainee, he’d always been deliberate in how and where he fucked. No one goaded him. But she was getting to him. It was time to turn her over to someone else.

Chapter Eight

Tension knotted Chelsea’s stomach and she picked at her dinner despite the fact the food was fabulous. He’d chosen an upscale seafood restaurant in the foothills with spectacular views of Denver and the plains in the distance. This was not the type of place she frequented. Her budget didn’t stretch that far.

Even though they were dining together in a wonderful place, her mind was elsewhere. On some levels, the idea of letting someone else tell her what to do and make decisions for her had rankled. The suggestion that she should serve him in any way had annoyed her. But over the last couple of weeks, things had changed.

She recognised the myriad ways he served her, from wonderful dinners—no parsley in sight—to holding her gently, from opening doors to washing her in the shower. She’d learnt that submission wasn’t a one-way street. And the more he required from her, the more he also gave. He made her feel cared for and appreciated. She had certainly not expected that when she’d approached him at the Den.

Before they’d left this evening, she’d loved the way he’d taken her from behind. His possession had been unexpected and powerful. But now her pussy throbbed from his denial.

“Not hungry?” he asked.

“Sorry. I was playing with my food, Sir.” She laid her fork on top of her plate. She was looking forward to tomorrow night at the Den and finally sceneing with Master Evan C. But she was going to miss seeing Master Alexander. She realised that she was starting to care for him, deeply. Falling for a trainer was stupidity, she knew, but she hadn’t seen it coming.

“Would you like to finish your wine? Or would you like to go?”

She folded her hands together in her lap. “I don’t want to rush you, Sir.”

He looked at her, his gaze focused on her. He frowned slightly before nodding. “I’d rather get home, as well.” He signalled for the check and paid the bill.

“Thank you for dinner, Sir,” she said, when he pulled back her chair.

“You have the loveliest manners,” he said. “This time I want you to walk in front of me.”

It seemed he gave a different order every time they were together. That was part of his plan, she supposed. With a new Dom, she wouldn’t know what to expect, and so he prepared her for everything. He was good at what he did.

They waited at the valet stand, and when one of the men opened the door for her, Master Alexander said, “I’ll see to the lady.”

The valet nodded and accepted his tip. Master Alexander handed her into the SUV and waited while she buckled her seatbelt before closing the door.

“You seem quiet,” he observed after he eased into traffic.

“Just trying to concentrate,” she said, fabricated.

He shot her a sideways glance.

“I don’t want to be a disappointment,” she added, hoping that would dissuade him from further questions.

“You won’t be.” He took her hand and drew it to his lips.

The angst that had been bubbling through her since he’d denied her an orgasm became clawing desire. She needed to release the tension, and she didn’t want to do it through bad behaviour. Chelsea generally felt as if she was in control of every situation, but with him, she had no idea what to do. She couldn’t admit the truth, that she wanted to stay in his arms. But he also demanded she be honest with him.

“When we get back, leave your clothes inside the door and then go up to my bedroom. When I get there, I want to find you leaning over the bed, your ass cheeks spread apart.”

Her mouth dried. “Yes, Sir.” Obviously he intended to do more anal training this evening. She didn’t object. Now that she’d become more accustomed to it, she sometimes enjoyed it. When he fucked her with the butt plug in place, the sensations made nerve endings sing. It was so tight, so overwhelming. Now that she was past the worry that the thing would be expelled when she climaxed, she anticipated those evenings.

He pulled the vehicle into the garage. She tried not to notice how normal—how wonderful—it felt to arrive home with him. She preceded him into the house. As soon as the door closed behind him, she kicked off her heels and started to unbutton her blouse.

She expected him to walk straight past her, but he paused. He dug a hand into her hair and tipped her head to one side.

He sank his teeth into the tender flesh near her shoulder. Her knees bent, and before she could lose her balance, he caught her.

“Don’t keep me waiting, sub.” He walked away.

Chelsea stripped where she was. Those were his instructions. She doubted he would have minded if she had undressed in the living room, but she wasn’t certain. She’d learnt one thing during their time together, and that was to explicitly follow his orders. If he had commanded her to get naked in the garage, she would have done that. She had realised he looked out for her interests and never asked her to do something that would compromise her safety or modesty.

In the distance, a door closed, and she assumed he’d entered his home office. Not knowing how much time she had, she hurried upstairs to prepare for his arrival.

The beast kept her waiting.

She fought to stay focused, to harness her thoughts, to keep her ass cheeks spread. She listened intently for any sound that would indicate his imminent arrival. Just because she heard nothing, it didn’t mean he wasn’t standing there, watching her.

This time, he wasn’t being stealthy.

She heard his footfall on the steps, then outside the door. For a moment she forgot to breathe. But he continued down the hallway. She almost relaxed, but then realised it didn’t mean he wouldn’t be back right away. Doing what her Dom wanted when she didn’t want to or when she didn’t see the point was her greatest challenge.

He kept her waiting for a few minutes before joining her.

“Perfect,” he said.

Her heart raced. His approval made the wait worthwhile.

“You know I’m going to fuck your ass tonight, sub.”

Her breath threatened to strangle her. She couldn’t have spoken now if he paid her.

“We’ll start with a small plug.”

She heard the sound of his shoes. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw him place a few items on the nightstand.

He rubbed her bare buttocks. “No marks that won’t fade by tomorrow,” he told her.

Before she was ready, he placed the tip of the small plug against her. The silicone felt cold and wet. “Open up,” he said, then he pushed it in.

She barely felt its insertion, and it took no time to accommodate to the feel.

“You’re getting better at that,” he told her. “Now a larger size.”

She still found it a bit humiliating for him to remove a plug, but she knew protesting wouldn’t change anything. In fact, he’d probably think up a diabolical way to teach her not to say anything in future.

He worked the bigger one in a little at a time, easing it in and pulling it out, then going deeper with each thrust.

She groaned when the biggest part stretched her anal ring.

“Keep your asshole exposed for me,” he said. “Now you’re going to take one that’s larger than either of those.”

“Sir…” She was tempted to move her hands.

“Your choice, sub. I can prepare you with another plug, or I can fuck you now.”

Chelsea knew she should have kept her mouth shut. “Another one is fine, Sir.” He eased the current one from her, and she exhaled a huge sigh of relief. The respite was short lived. Almost instantly she felt something larger demanding entrance. “Damn, Sir!”

“Relax your muscles,” he coached.

She curled her toes against the unyielding floor. “I can’t do this!”

He slapped her ass hard.

The distraction allowed him to sink the nasty thing in farther. “This one feels different,” she said after she expelled her breath. And she hated it. It felt bruising and punishing.

“It’s made from tempered glass,” he said. “Unbreakable. It’s considerably less forgiving than the others we’ve used until now.”

She shuddered. Having his cock up there would feel better than this, she was sure.

He reached beneath her to play with her clit. Always this man knew how to touch her. As need built in her, he moved the glass piece around, working it in, easing it out, then pushing forward again.

She whimpered as he continued the assault on her rear. She’d never dealt with anything this horrible before.

Despite all her good intentions, she moved her hands and tried to stand. He forced her back down and he twisted the glass so that it slid in.

She panted, drenched with sweat, tears swimming in her eyes. Pain swamped her.

“Good girl.”

“Fuck you,” she said under her breath.

“Did you say something, sub?”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He flipped her over so that she was on her back looking up at him.

“I think you were being disrespectful, girl.”

She shook her head, but then she looked away and closed her eyes.

“Chelsea?”

Digging for courage, she faced him again. “You’re right, Sir. I was. I’m sorry. It hurts so much, and your words struck me as condescending.” She bit her lower lip, afraid of his reaction. Even in a vanilla relationship, speaking to a partner in that way was disrespectful and unacceptable. “I was out of line. I accept whatever punishment you deem necessary.”

He loomed over her, fully dressed, arms folded implacably. “Do you or do you not have a safe word?”

She wanted to look away. “Yes, I do, Sir.”

“Do you remember what it is?”

“Parsley, Sir.”

“And do you or do you not have a way to request a pause if you can’t deal with something?”

With a bravery that she wasn’t feeling, she continued to meet his gaze. “Yes, Sir.”

“A good sub communicates with her Master.”

That wasn’t what he was to her. Was it? He was a fill-in Dom. Nothing more? So why did she feel so terrible? Earlier she’d told him she hated the idea of disappointing him. He had no idea how true that was.

“Talking, expressing your feelings…that’s the only way for the relationship to get deeper and richer. It develops trust. Otherwise you have something meaningless. Is that what you want?”

“No it’s not, Sir.” She wished he’d spank her, light up her rear, chastise her, and get it over with. Anything other than this overwhelming sensation of shame.

“I’m going to punish you,” he said.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Get on all fours and fuck yourself with the plug.”

She opened her mouth in shock.

“You heard me. Much harder to take than a beating, isn’t it?”

“Sir… I mean…”

“Do it, girl.”

“Can we negotiate this?”

“Absolutely not. Safe word and go home or do this now.”

The world seemed to shift beneath her. This might be the most dreadful thing he’d ever requested of her.

“Talk to me, girl.”

His use of the word was obviously intentional to reinforce their roles. “I will do what you said, but I’m embarrassed as hell. I don’t want to do it. I’d rather you whip me.”

“That’s why I’ve chosen this. I’ve learnt a thing or two about subs during this process, and being a brat with me will only earn you time to think about your behaviour. I like flogging and belting you, but you like it, as well. Keeping that in the erotic realm is what works best with you.”