The Dom of My Dreams: A BDSM Novel (33 page)

I have nothing to lose… nothing except for my heart and soul.

He was right.
 
I knew he was.
 
But I didn’t want to dwell on it.
 
Not now that he was here with me.
 
Sighing, I unclenched my muscles and sagged against him in surrender.

“That’s my whore,” Seton cooed.

I turned stormy eyes to him.
 
“Don’t call me a whore!”

“I didn’t call you
a
whore,” he said calmly, “I called you
my
whore.
 
There’s a difference.”

I glanced at Mitch.
 
He was staring open-mouthed at us, eyes as wide as saucers.
 
A mixture of puzzlement and amusement flitted in his face.
 
I wondered if he wanted some popcorn and soda to go with the free show he was getting.

I spun back to Seton, who just stood there, staring at me.
 
His expression was that of a teacher disappointed with one of his students.
 

“I am not
your
whore,” I argued weakly.

He ignored my feeble protest and gently smoothed a strand of hair that had come out of my butterfly clip and tucked it behind my ear.
 
“You’ve disobeyed me all this time.
 
Haven’t you, my little whore?”

I opened my mouth to say that I hadn’t disobeyed him because our agreement had been broken for weeks, but closed it immediately.
 
What was the use?
 
All protests seemed superfluous at this point.
 
Besides, I could no longer ignore the surge of heat coursing through my body.
 
I wanted him, and that was that.

One of his hands was still on my breast, his thumb running lazy circles over my aching nipple.
 
I gasped and arched against his scintillating touch.

“You’ve disobeyed me all this time, haven’t you, my little whore?” Seton repeated, harsher this time.

I sighed and met his unwavering gaze.
 
“Yes, Sir.”

A look of triumph flickered across his face.
 
“And what happens to disobedient little whores?”

I chanced a quick glance at Mitch.
 
He was still staring at us with that stupid look on his face.
 
“They…they get fucked by two gorgeous men at the same time?”

Seton seemed stunned for a moment, then he threw his head back and laughed.
 

“No,” he said after composing himself.
 
“They get punished!”

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

 

Warning flags waved in my head, alerting me that there was danger ahead.

“Punished?” I asked, alarmed, pulling back from his touch.

A slight smile curved on the corners of Seton’s mouth.
 
“You are quite a headstrong young woman, darling,” he said coolly.
 
“And I’m going to beat it right out of you.”

“Go to hell,” I bit out.

He made a low “tsk-tsk” sound as he ran his knuckles softly over my cheek, then traced a slow path until he reached the back of my neck.
  
“I know you think I’m some sort of villain out to hurt you—”

“Aren’t you?”

“—but everything I’ve done has been part of the deal we made.
 
Not to mention the fact that it is all for your own good.”

I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant by “your own good,” but he cut me off.

“More important,” he continued, “you want all of this to happen, and you don’t want it to end.”
 
Hard amusement glinted in his eyes.
 
“You shouldn’t have disobeyed me, my pet.
 
Now you must be punished.
 
And it won’t be pleasant, I assure you.”
 
He smiled.
 
“Then again, who knows?
 
Corporal punishment might just be your thing.”

 
I closed my eyes briefly as he undid my hair from its butterfly clip.
 
He tugged and pulled until my hair spilled down my shoulders.

“You have beautiful hair,” he praised softly, combing his fingers through my disheveled tresses.
 
“Don’t cover it up like that.”

“Cor—corporal punishment?” I stammered.

“Yes,” he said.
 
“I’m going to give you a good spanking—or rather, your little toy boy will.”
 
He cast a sharp glance at Mitch.
 
“I may join in as well, or maybe not.
 
I prefer to watch, as you well know.”
 
He shrugged mockingly.
 
“Then I’m going to fuck you.
 
And perhaps your little friend will join us.
 
Wouldn’t you like that?”

Yes.
 
“No.”

His lips curled into a knowing smile.
 
“You’re a lousy liar, my pet.”

“What about you?
 
Would
you
like that?”

“To be honest, no.
 
I don’t like sharing what’s mine, especially with someone you’ve had a history with—no matter how shallow that piece of history might be.
 
But I might make an exception tonight.”

Gasping, I glanced over at Mitch.
 
He was staring at me, stunned, but looking helplessly aroused.
 
He swallowed hard and looked at me as if asking for my permission to join in.
 
I sighed and turned my attention back to Seton.
 
His face had softened, cold arrogance gone and in its place a look of desire so hot I thought I would melt from it.
 
His harsh words had ignited something deep within me.
 
How could they not?
 
They went so far beyond my wildest dreams that no words seemed adequate enough to describe the way I felt.
 
But for my sanity’s sake, I had to utter a protest, no matter how lame it may sound to Seton’s ears.

“I used my Safe Word to end our agreement,” I said breathlessly.
 
“It was over, no ifs or buts.
 
You said so yourself.
 
So, why are you here?
 
And why are you doing this?”

He considered my questions as he took a step back and examined my face.
 
Then he reclaimed my nipple, encircling it with his thumb and watching as it puckered against his touch.
 
Seton’s face had no expression, but his eyes were dark with passion as his thumb stirred tiny frissons of fire throughout my entire body.

“At the park,” he said thickly, “I caught a glimpse of your ankle bracelet.
 
I told you that you were mine for as long as you wore it.”
 
He glanced down at my feet.
 
The ankle bracelet and toe ring twinkled back at him.
 
A triumphant smile teased his lips.
 
“The fact that you continue to wear the jewels cancels out the Safe Word.”

It did?
 
That was interesting.
 
Why hadn’t he told me that before?
 
“Making up the rules as you go along?”

“Something like that.”
 
A small smile touched his lips.
 
“This isn’t over, my darling, because you don’t want it to be over.
 
Now”—his face turned serious—“conversation time is over.
 
Let’s move on, shall we?”

Seton unbuttoned my denim skirt and pushed the fabric until it dropped to my ankles, leaving me in nothing but the blue silk thong and strappy sandals.
 
I kicked off the skirt and was about to slip out of my thong when Seton said, “Leave it on.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mitch stripping off his shirt and undoing his jeans.
 
Seton shot him an annoyed look and thundered, “Have I given you permission to remove your bloody clothes?”

Mitch froze, his hands resting on his belt buckle.
 
He blinked at Seton, then turned confused eyes to me.
 

Seton grabbed my wrist and brought my hand to his erection, which clung tightly within his jeans.
 
“This is all she’s after.”
 
He tightened his fingers around mine and thrust against my fist.
 
“Your body, your brains and personality, none of that matters to her.
 
You might as well be a walking dildo.
 
This is all she wants, so this is all she gets.
 
Do you understand?”

Mitch nodded, his eyes wide with shock.

My lips trembled as painful realization sank in.
 
That was the reason why Seton hadn’t allowed me the pleasure of seeing him totally naked.
 
He was treating me like someone who saw men as nothing more than sexual conveniences.
 
I only wanted what was between their legs.
 
He was right, that was how I preferred men, as scratches to my itch, and the thought of it shamed me to the core.
 
But how had Seton known about that?
 
Was it that obvious?
 
Was I so easy to figure out?

But the one thing he did not know was that I didn’t see
him
that way.
 
He wasn’t just a sexual convenience to me.
 
He hadn’t been that for a long time.

I resolved not to cry, no matter how much I wanted to at that moment.
 
I never cried, but if I had to, I would do it in the privacy of my own home—alone.
 
Now I just stood there, sullen, trying to swallow the lump of misery that had built within me.

Seton let go of my hand, his eyes softening when he saw the pain in mine.
 
Something akin to that of regret momentarily passed over his features.
 
“Yes, that is the reason why you haven’t seen me naked.”
 
He leaned forward and gave me a soft kiss.
 
“You will get to see all of me one day, but only if you tell me what you really feel about me.”

In other words, he wanted complete power over me, to own my soul as well as my body.
 
He wanted me to tell him how I felt about him, just so he could crush me whenever he saw fit.
 
He didn’t love me, yet he wanted me to love
him
.
 
No, thanks.
 
I’d rather not see him naked.
 
It wasn’t a fair trade.
 
Like I’d said many times before, he could have my body, but he would never possess my soul.
 

“Now,” he said, resuming his role, “Go lie down over your toy boy’s lap.”

I started at the command.
 
“What, now?”

His gaze darkened, filling me with alarm and confusion at the intensity there.
 
“Yes, now.
 
Go!”

I took a few steps back, my arms crossing over my naked chest.
 
Intimidation stirred within me as I looked into his determined green eyes.
 

His nostrils flared.
 
“Didn’t you hear me?
 
I said go.
 
Now.”

Reluctantly, I spun around and wobbled over to Mitch.
 
Mitch looked up at me, a mixture of puzzlement and arousal flickering in his eyes.
 
I glanced at Seton over my shoulder.
 
“It—it won’t hurt too much, will it?”

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