Read In the Zone Online

Authors: Sierra Cartwright

Tags: #BDSM Contemporary

In the Zone (7 page)

His scene with Alani had been powerful.

Being deliberate, watching her reactions, demanding her orgasm, even holding her afterward had fulfilled something inside him.

And for the first time, he was left wanting more.

She’d been honest in her reactions, and he wondered how much deeper it could go. He wanted to provide the satisfaction she craved.

He’d had a hard-on since he left the club. She’d begged him to fuck her. He’d wanted to, but he’d always believed restraint was the better part of valor. He rarely mixed punishment and sex, but last night he’d been close to demolishing his personal boundaries.

Even though Nathaniel rarely showed up at Zones, he was still an owner. He’d made it clear that what happened between him and Alani was separate from her employment, and as Marcus had pointed out, there wasn’t a specific policy against fraternization.

Still, common sense told him to turn Alani over to AJ or one of the club’s professional doms for retraining, but he couldn’t. Now that his belt had been on her skin and his mouth had been on her pussy, she was his.

He wanted her.

She was his.

The rational part of his mind recognized that she had some say in the matter. The dominant part of him wanted to give her no choice.

After a long, hot shower, he called her.

She answered on the fourth ring, just as he was wondering if she intended to send him to voice mail.


Mahalo.

Her voice sounded unhurried. If she was nervous, her tone didn’t betray it.

Suddenly he remembered the way her voice sounded last night, breathless as she begged for his belt. “Meet me at the club half an hour before your shift starts,” he told her. It was only a few hours before she was due at Zones, so that meant she had little time to prepare.

“I thought you were giving me the day off to
think.

The hint of anger in her voice was more like he expected. “I’ve changed my mind, Alani. We need to talk privately.”

“This is private—”

“Was my order unclear, sub?”

“No, Sir.”

Without giving her another moment to argue, he hung up. He needed to shove a gag in her mouth. Or his dick.

Nathaniel dressed. When he threaded his belt through the loops on his slacks, he thought of the leather kissing her bronzed skin. He wondered if her ass had any red marks. Likely it didn’t. He hadn’t hit her that hard.

If he gave her what they both wanted, that would no doubt change. Maybe as soon as tonight.

He drove to the club from his rented home in Lakewood on the west side of the metro Denver area. Nathaniel had never put down roots; truthfully, he’d never wanted to. He’d been a military kid. A lot of people he knew didn’t like the vagabond lifestyle. He couldn’t imagine living any other way. The longest lease he’d ever signed had been on a storage unit. He liked the flexibility of walking away when necessary and of having the option of calling anywhere home. Sometimes it was Colorado; once it had been Alaska. After the heat of the Middle East, he’d wanted something different. Nome had been cold and anonymous.

The drive to downtown took less time than usual.

He parked his SUV in the far row of the parking lot, leaving the closer spots for female employees and patrons.

He sat there for a few seconds before cutting the engine.

Two things was inescapable: he wanted Alani, and he intended to have her. Other than that, he had very little in terms of a plan. He was comfortable acting instinctively, and with her, he doubted anything else would work.

He’d arrived early, and Alani was already waiting in the foyer. She wore her trench coat, belted at the waist. Her luxurious hair cascaded over her shoulders. She had on spiky heels that defined her calves and, God help him, fishnet stockings. She was the stuff of fantasies.

He wanted to get her alone, strip off the coat, and bend her hot body over the arm of a couch while he fucked her from behind. But he owed it to them both to define the rules. “We’ll talk in the bar.” When she frowned in obvious confusion, he added, “This isn’t all about business.”

He placed his fingers in the small of her back and exerted a small amount of pressure, indicating she should precede him.

“If you’re supposed to be retraining me, I should be walking behind you.”

“Do you have to argue with everything?” He wondered if she was genuinely puzzled or if she was trying to goad him. “First of all, I said this isn’t all business. Secondly, I’m the dom. We’ll do whatever I say, whatever I want, whenever and wherever I want it.”

She didn’t respond.

He guided her to a small corner table, tucked away from prying eyes and eavesdroppers. He held her chair. She placed her purse on the floor. When she reached for her belt, he said, “Leave your coat on.” If she revealed any more of her beautiful skin, he might give in to his Neanderthal urges. He was already behind her, and it took all his restraint not to place her hands on the table, lift her hem, and shove his hard cock deep into her pussy. “Sit,” he told her.

She did, and he moved to the far side of the table and sat across from her. Alani kept her back rigid.

A waitress headed their direction, and he waved her away.

“I could use a drink,” Alani said.

“We’re here to talk.”

“We could do that in Master Marcus’s office.”

Why she hadn’t been in trouble before now was somewhat of a mystery. Maybe he brought out the brat in her. Maybe the manipulative masochist wanted another spanking. He held his temper and evenly said, “I understand you’re unclear of what’s going on here, Alani.” He raised a brow. “So let me help. You’re a sub. I’m a dom.”

She frowned. “I’m not sure what your point is.”

“Sir. You’ll address me properly at all times. Any questions?”

Her shoulders slumped slightly, as if in defeat. “No, Sir.”

Much, much better. He liked the way the respectful term of address rolled off her tongue. “Any ill effects from last night?” he asked.

“Last night?” She folded her hand in her lap. “Which part are you talking about? When you beat me? Or the part where you sent me home without pay, not knowing when I’d get to come back? Or the part where you didn’t call until this afternoon? Or the part where you expected me to drop what I was doing and come in after all? Or the part where you refused to fuck me?” She smiled sweetly and added a belated, “Sir.”

He leaned forward. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

If he wanted a hookup, he could find plenty of willing women. Karyn had girlfriends who would spend an evening with him. He could avail himself of one of the club’s other submissives. And there would no doubt be single women who showed up tonight who’d like to scene with him. He didn’t need to sit here with a hellion of a masochist who’d intentionally annoy him at every turn. “I told you I would call you, Alani. I did. I don’t make promises that I don’t keep.”

She met his gaze and didn’t look away.

“Now answer my question.”

“I have no ill effects from the beating, Sir. I barely had a red mark above one of my knees.”

She sounded a bit disappointed.

“Would you like to see for yourself?” she asked.

His boxers could no longer contain his erection. He forced himself to focus on the upcoming discussion. “What happened last night was unacceptable. I apologize.”

“I’m not sure what you’re apologizing for.” She frowned. “I begged you to beat me.”

“I enjoyed every minute of it. But the location was wrong. I should not have mixed the work issue with the fact I wanted to use my belt on your ass. It should have happened offsite, at my place or at yours.”

“I see.”

“I’ve only had one long-term relationship. I travel too much, and my schedule is extraordinarily demanding, and frankly, Alani, I value my freedom.”

“Is there a reason we’re having this discussion? You hit me with a belt a few times. That hardly justifies your need to tell me about your past or freaking out about your freedom.” She straightened in her seat and leaned back again, putting physical distance between them. Her body language spoke volumes.

He fought back a sudden surge of temper. He couldn’t wait to have her naked, rounded derriere across his lap. “I’m not freaking out about anything. What I’m saying is this: I will handle your retraining. But I want more from you. My cock has been hard since I had you over the desk last night. I want to fuck you. I intend to fuck you. I don’t want any confusion between our work life and our personal lives.”

“I’m not confused.”

“Do you have a boyfriend? A dom? An important relationship?” He took a deep breath and leaned forward. His cock pressed insistently against his pants. “I want to see you outside the club. Is there anything that will stand in the way of you giving yourself to me?”

She brushed a few strands of hair back from her face. “I have no other relationship, but a man, any man, including a dom, must earn my respect before I agree to anything.”

He nodded at her challenge. She wasn’t the typical sub, which was probably why she appealed to him.

“Go on,” he said, wondering if he’d made an error. Was this sexual tension all one-sided? Was one man as good as another as long as he beat her and gave her screaming orgasms?

He all but ground the enamel off his back teeth.

“I’m not interested in anything long-term with any man,” she said. “The fact you travel a lot frankly appeals to me. It makes things more clear, more defined. So in answer to your question, yes, I am interested in hooking up for an occasional scene with you, Sir, as long as you fuck me after you beat me.”

“Good.” He was more clipped than he intended. He wasn’t asking to collar her, but Christ, he wanted something more than just a promise of an occasional meeting. Was there a woman more confounding than Alani Dane? “Then we’re clear. When we’re at work, we’ll keep things professional. Fortunately I’ll only be here a week while Master Marcus is gone. Outside of the club, I will bend you to my will, punish your indiscretions, beat you into erotic submission, and fuck you ragged. Blunt enough?”

Chapter Four

Alani’s heart missed its next beat.

Yes. It was blunt enough.

Last night and most of today had been torture. She’d chastised herself for allowing boredom with the scene to impact her job. She’d been alternately pissed and thrilled with Master Nathaniel’s high-handed treatment.

No man, either at the club or away from it, had affected her the way he did. He seemed to know her deepest fears and motivations. He knew what she wanted in terms of punishment. His beating had been magnificent. It had hurt, and she still bore one small welt behind her left knee. But it hadn’t been over the top. He hadn’t hurt her the way the other dom had.

He’d found a rhythm that might have sent her into subspace, and she’d been close to achieving it. She suspected he knew that.

Rather than adding strokes for her misbehavior, he’d known that withholding them from her was much worse.

He seemed to know her as well as she knew herself, maybe even better.

She’d tossed and turned all night. She’d dreamed about him, fantasized about him.

She wanted to scene with him again. She wanted to feel the full impact of his lash. She wanted this implacable dom to force her capitulation.

He sat there in silence. His broad hands—capable of giving her mindless pleasure—were folded on top of the table. When she’d scooted back earlier, he’d leaned forward, taking away the little space she’d put between them.

The force of his personality and restraint combined with power and intelligence was overwhelming.

She met his gaze. He regarded her intently, as if her answer mattered to him. His green eyes were deep, searing into her. He watched her every reaction. She couldn’t hide, even if she wanted to.

“You’re wise to think about it a bit. I’m strict,” he warned her. “Last night was only a taste of what you can expect if you don’t follow my rules. I know you don’t fear any form of corporal punishment. I know you suffer more when I withhold my attention. Therefore, if you step out of line, you can expect to be sent to a room, alone.”

She swallowed.

“There are also other ways of punishing a recalcitrant sub.”

Suddenly she was feeling
very
submissive. He was as implacable with his words as he was with his behavior. He was dom through and through, and she couldn’t help but respond to him. “Sir?”

“Toys, Alani. Orgasm denial. How well do you suck cock?”

His abrupt change of subject caught her off guard. “That depends. How big is your dick, Sir?”

He inclined his head as if to say touché.

The fact he hadn’t fucked her last night rankled a bit. She’d thought maybe he didn’t desire her. But now she knew he was much more diabolical. A good sub wanted her dominant’s cock, and he knew that. It wasn’t just a physical joining; the connection was an emotional reassurance. In this man, she’d met someone who understood the complex issues of a D/s combination.

She toyed with her hair. As he’d obviously planned, she wanted him. So the question was: was she up for the challenge he presented?

“Problem, Alani?”

Of course he’d noticed her betrayal of nerves. She shook her head. “I’m a quick study. I will do my best to please you, Sir.”

“As I said earlier, I don’t play games. I won’t allow you to, either.”

Her heart stopped. Cold. She looked at him and swallowed deeply. The tiny scar on his chin seemed more pronounced.

“If we are to have any type of relationship, you will answer every question honestly and directly.”

“You haven’t made this sound very appealing.”

“I will give you the lash you crave.”

Her pussy moistened.

“I will give you the attention you need. I will give you the experiences you yearn for. Are you brave enough?”

With more bravado than she was really feeling, she looked at him and said, “Bring it on, Sir.”

He cocked his head to one side. The motion was arrogant, assertive, threatening.

“Your comment will earn you a punishment,” he said. “Tonight. After you finish work, I’ll drive you to my place.”

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