Disgrace (9 page)

“Not anymore, Sub.”

J
esus, I am a lucky man. I’d pinch myself right now if I thought she wouldn’t notice. She notices everything; her eyes are bright and curious, scrutinising my every move. Dark pools of desire blend with a mixture of wide-eyed innocence and trust. That fucking trust is what makes me the luckiest man alive. She may have reservations about the role I want her to play but she trusts me enough to try, and that is such a fucking turn-on. She’s not just a Domme; she the best damn Domme in the city, and I have her tied up and trembling.

Luckiest. Fucking. Man Alive.

I stand inches from her naked body, naked save for the diamond choker I bought with her delicate neck in mind. My jeans hang loose, and I ditched my shirt the moment I sat down to watch her strip. The heat between us is charged, and tiny sparks like a live current jump the sliver of distance between our bodies. I draw in a deep breath. I can smell her arousal, and she is intoxicating, sweet, and sinful. My hand is still twisted into her collar, and with the smallest clench of my fist, I can restrict her airway, but my hand is relaxed…for now.

I place my finger on her mouth and push between her soft, full lips. Her sweet little tongue eagerly wraps around my digit, and she sucks me in on a moan. My cock hardens, uncomfortably restricted in my jeans, but this feels so good. I pull from her mouth and draw the wet tip of my finger along her collarbone and slowly down between her breasts. Her gaze never leaves mine but her lids flutter closed when I reach the tiny landing strip of hair pointing directly to her centre. I sink my hand between her legs and swirl my thumb in a steady pattern around her clit. Her breath hitches, and she bites back a whimper that lurks at the back of her throat. I bite my own lips to keep from smiling but flash a wicked grin when I sink two fingers into her fresh wetness. That whimper she tried to hold back escapes, and her hips sink on my hand, greedy for a little more. She sighs with a grumble of frustration, tugging against her restraints even as her lips curl with a knowing smile. This is a game she is familiar with, I am sure. She sucks her lips into her mouth, and I can see she is struggling to hold her tongue. I help her out and cover her mouth with mine. My smile spreads wide as I try to crush that grin off her lips. My tongue dives and plunges, tasting her and swirling in a delicious dance with hers. I pull away, and she wraps her lips tight around my retreating tongue, sucking it back into her mouth. I can feel the erotic pull of her sucking me like that deep in my balls.

A low groan rumbles from my chest, and she giggles. This may be a challenge for her, but I can see she is fully prepared to test my own skill set every step of the way. I relax with a deep sense of calm because this is no challenge at all. I believe we are made for this, made for each other, and her breathtaking smile and soaking wetness clenching around my fingers are all the evidence I need.

“Do I make you happy, sweetheart?” My breath whispers across her skin, but she is instant ice in my hand. Her eyes glaze and all colour drains from her flawless skin.

“Switch.” She mouths the word but there is no sound. I only see it because I am staring with utter confusion at her face. She’s like a statue, a shell, no little tells from her sweet body silently begging me for more, no sighs or cries…nothing. One second she is warm and sentient to my touch; the next she is frozen.

I have so many questions, but I don’t voice them now. I lean up to unstrap her wrist, my hand stretching across her face. She flinches away from my reach, and her body begins to shake. She’s sucking in large gulps of air, but she seems to be struggling to breathe. Her chest rises with building panic, and her lips are tinged with blue.
Shit.

“Sam, look at me.” I keep my voice calm but stern. I don’t know where the fuck she has gone but I need her back with me. Just me. “Look at me, Sam.” I repeat just as firmly. Her eyelids flutter, and her brows knit like she is trying to concentrate, but she doesn’t seem to be able to focus. Her eyes fix on mine, but they are vacant pools of sadness. I manage to unclip her arms and hold her steady, afraid she will fall if I release her. Her arms fall lifelessly to her sides and she sways unsteadily. I deftly unclip her ankle straps and sweep her into my arms before she falls. I step quickly over to the bed and grab the loose silk sheet at the end. It’s large enough to wrap around both our bodies, but it’s thin, and the room is air conditioned to a cool temperature. It won’t afford much warmth, but my body heat will. I cocoon her in my arms and wait. I slide us up the bed and lean against the headboard. Her body still trembles, but her rapid deep breathing has calmed.

I rest my lips on her hair and lay kiss after kiss, gently rocking and squeezing what comfort I can. I am good at what I do. My role as a Dominant is as natural to me as breathing. Although one can learn how to be a good Dom, to be the best, I believe, has more to do with natural inclination than anything that can be taught. I know how to read people. I see them in their masks, and I see them at their most raw, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that, for Sam, I just triggered something bad.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep, but I wake when I feel her wriggle in my arms. They protectively lock on instinct in a frame around her. I look down and see her big soulful eyes looking at me with such sadness it cleaves my chest apart. I bury it, though. She doesn’t need my worries piling on top of whatever shit-storm she is currently processing.

“Well, that was new.” I exhale a light laugh because I can see her face is a picture of turmoil and devastation. I can deal with sadness. What I don’t want is regret, and she needs to know nothing has changed. Her lips falter with her first attempt to smile at my comment. She swallows thickly and draws in a deep, slow breath.

“I need to leave.” She drops her head and averts her eyes. I try for calm, but it comes out as a frustrated, loud exhale. She shifts to move but I just grip a little tighter.

“You need to talk to me.” She shakes her head.

“Jason, you don’t want this…trust me. This is all wrong.” Her voice catches, and I don’t know whether to shake her or just hold her some more. I hold her. I lift her chin up so she can see my eyes. I have to credit her strength because she doesn’t shy from the contact. “I can’t give you what you want.”

“I want you, so I think you can.” I know she feels unbearable sadness for whatever reason, but I won’t let her give up on this. I flash my most confident smile, which causes her brows to wrinkle with suspicion. Suspicion is better than sadness. “You would feel more comfortable at home?”

“I would.” Her voice is filled with resignation. She closes her eyes this time, but not before I see the hurt settle in deep. She drops her head, again.

“Okay.” I lift us both from the bed and place her carefully on her feet. Her hands reach for my hips to steady herself, but she quickly lets go. I don’t say a word when she turns and walks away. I don’t speak as we both quietly put our clothes back on, and I remain silent until she is sitting in the passenger seat of my car.

“I won’t be a moment. I have to lock up.” She doesn’t even look up just nods and stares at her cupped hands. Now I happen to fucking love submissive gestures like this, but this is fucking killing me. I slam the door, making her jump. It takes me less than five minutes to pack my duffle bag with enough clothes to last the week. I throw the bag over my shoulder into the back seat when I slide into the front.

“Home?” I check one more time.

“Please.” Her voice is such a sad whisper I want to reach over and pull her into my arms all over again, and I will…soon. “I’m sorry Jason,” she adds. Her eyes shine with moisture, and I have to grip the wheel to prevent myself from tearing her from her seat. She needs to be home…where she feels safe.

“I know.” I rev the engine to a loud roar so I’m not sure she heard me, but she has already retreated in on herself, so it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is getting her to talk to me, and she won’t do that unless she feels safe.

The streets are empty, dark and rightly deserted. I keep casting my eyes her way and notice she has dipped her head and tilted to see the Christmas lights that hang across some of the main London roads. She’s smiling, so I decide to take the long way home, weaving my way down every festively lit street I know. She turns her head to me when she realises what I’m doing, her smile is brighter than a million Christmas lights. No one in their right mind would actually chose to drive around London, deliberately picking longer routes. But it’s Christmas Day, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see a lonesome bushel sweeping down Bond Street.

This year, the most expensive shopping destination in town has large white peacock feathers spanning the width and running the entire length of the road. A canopy of mock diamonds sparkle overhead, a poor cousin to those on display in the Graff or Cartier windows or the ones that still lie flush against Sam’s neck.

We drive slowly along Piccadilly. The arcades on either side tend to go all out with the decorations, and this year is no exception. But the window displays are always worth checking out. I pull up and park outside Harrods, something that would have you clamped and fined within five minutes on any other day. Each window has a fairy tale theme, and the one we are looking at is
Cinderella
. I don’t think they could’ve fit anymore sparkle in that tiny space.

“Beautiful,” I say but I don’t mean the display because that pales in comparison to what I have sitting beside me.

“Cinder-fucking-ella,” she sniffs out and looks over to me because I am silent and clearly waiting for her to clarify. “I can relate to the evil stepmother, but honestly, there is no such thing as Prince Charming.”

I grin and her eyes drop to my lips when I drag my tongue slowly, deliberately along the seam.

“I agree. I personally prefer the big bad wolf. You know exactly what he wants, he can see you better, hear you better and—” I wink when her laugh finishes my dirty train of thought.
Yeah I can definitely eat you better.

I pull the car into a space a few houses down from Sam’s place and switch the engine off. She turns to me with a brave face and a tentative smile.

“Thank you, Jason, and I’m—” I don’t hear the rest of whatever excuse and brush off she had prepared. I reach over into the back seat to grab my bag. I open my door, and I take my time stepping around the front of the car. I keep my eyes fixed on her, and she closely watches my face, but I’m giving nothing away. I open her door and wait, smiling to myself at the look of complete surprise painting her face. “Um…” She takes my offered hand, and once the car is locked, I pull her into my arms. My hand threads into her hair, skimming the choker and cupping her head.

“Sam, you’re an intelligent woman. You didn’t really think that was the end, did you?” I raise my brow and keep my smile wide.

“I…Jason…” She stiffens and her brows furrow. She’s working up to making some sort of objection I just don’t care to hear. I cover her mouth with mine. We have plenty of time to talk. Right now, she needs to remember just how good we taste together. She instantly relaxes in my arms. My tongue sweeps across her sweet lips, and she breathes out a light moan that mainlines straight to my cock. I walk her back and press her against the hood of my car, her back curves with the pressure I’m putting on her small frame. Sprawled and pressed together our bodies collide. We lay with heat matching that rising from the engine underneath, zero to full throttle in no time at all. Fuck, she feels so good. I use one hand to protect her head, her thick dark hair falls in a halo pattern, glossy and rich and a sharp contrast to the matte black paintwork of my car. Her dark eyes shine, and although I am pressing her body flush to mine, she is somehow able to make tiny undulations beneath me. The sexiest fucking movements ever. They are driving me insane. I hold her fixed against my mouth. My other hand drifts down her side. I grip around the back of her thigh and pull her leg around my hip. She doesn’t hesitate, her demand for me equals my own for her. Urgent, breathless kisses, swiping her tongue around in a delicious duel with mine, her hands fist and pull me hard against her. We could go right here. I know it. I stand back, leaving her heaving in much needed oxygen. I drag my hand slowly down her body, between her breasts, resting in the centre where I can feel the power of her heartbeat in my palm. Just where I want her.