For damn sure, she never snuggled close and thanked him in her sleep.
“I wanted to,” he stated. “You have a sweet and affectionate nature and I wanted to be sweet and affectionate to you. I know there was very little warmth in the way I took you in the kitchen.”
Her hand covered his. “If I may, Sir, there was warmth in the way you took me. Was it a typical warmth? Probably not, but that doesn’t devalue it. Being different doesn’t make it less.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Explain, please.”
“You took care to prepare me. You kept me the center of your attention, even while you were taking your own pleasure. You ensured I wasn’t pushed past my limits.”
“What are you saying, little one?”
She hesitated, backing down a bit and swallowing. “I’m saying, Sir, that maybe you need to redefine how you look at warmth. It’s not just hugs and kisses; sometimes warmth can be found in the details. And sometimes it’s the details that mean the most.”
He let her words sink in. He, who had told her a month or so ago that words had meanings and she needed to recognize that fact, had just learned a much needed lesson. Wanting to catch her off guard, he took her in his arms and rolled them both so she was under him.
“You’re full of surprises. Has anyone ever told you that?” he asked.
“Once or twice, Sir. But never while we were both naked.”
“I’m not naked. I have shorts on.”
She shrugged. “In my dream, you were naked.”
She looked so adorable, on his bed, wrapped in his blanket, chatting away about being naked after dropping something so philosophical. He took her hands and brought them above her head.
“Everything about you turns me on. You’re such a complex contradiction.” He dropped his mouth to her ear. “It’s so fucking hot.”
He claimed her mouth then, taking her lips in a way that would show her without words just how much she turned him on. There was a time for words, he more than anyone knew that, but there was also a time for action. The woman in his arms had been given words, but too often there had been no follow-through.
He nibbled on her lips and explored them with his tongue, tasting the mint left behind by her recent teeth brushing. She answered back with her own actions and when she bit his bottom lip and sucked on it, he groaned in pleasure. Bloody hell, he hadn’t kissed this woman near enough.
He pressed her into the mattress with his hips, making sure she felt every damn inch of him and knew without a doubt just how much he wanted to be inside her. He thrust his cotton-covered erection against her unprotected sex and when she gasped in response, he plundered her mouth.
He kissed her until she trembled in his arms and wiggled in an effort to get closer. It would be easy as hell to ease his shorts down, spread her legs, and give them what they both wanted. Easy, but that wasn’t his plan.
Using more control than he thought should be required, he pulled away. She whimpered.
“Hands above your head, slave, and don’t move them.”
She instantly swallowed her whimper and followed his command.
“Good girl. Now show me my cunt.”
Again, there was no hesitation as she spread herself for his scrutiny.
“Very nice.” He ran a finger down her freshly shaven flesh. “I meant to inspect you earlier to ensure you prepared yourself properly. Unfortunately, I got carried away with other things, so I’ll rectify that now. Do you know, little one, the best way to make sure you didn’t miss a hair?”
Her eyebrows crinkled as she thought. “With a magnifying glass?”
“No, with my mouth.” He didn’t give her time to process his words, he simply shifted slightly, lowered his head, and gave her pussy a lick. She jerked and he bit her gently. “Be still, slave.”
Only when he was certain she would remain motionless did he resume. He made sure not to touch her clit, choosing to focus on the surrounding flesh. Only seconds had passed when he noticed her thighs start to shake. Poor Sasha, it’d probably been a long time since she had to work against her natural urges. And right now, it was taking most of her strength not to move.
He decided to help by moving his hands to rest on her upper, inner thighs. That her body stilled under his touch pleased him and he licked her slit from bottom to top, dragging the tip of his tongue so it barely pushed inside.
“So wet already, slave?” he teased. “Did your Master not fuck you enough the first time?”
She didn’t budge when she answered, “I can’t help it, Sir. What you do to my body.”
He gave her another lick. “That pleases me. Firstly, because you have such a strong reaction to me. Secondly, it ensures you’re prepared should I decide I want to use you. You’re so wet, I wouldn’t have any trouble sliding my cock deep inside your hot fuck hole.”
Her only reply was a heavy exhale through her nose.
“Right now, though, I just want to eat it.”
And with that, he stopped talking and simply enjoyed her. He teased and nibbled and sucked, savoring her taste, but more than that, delighting in the soft noises she made and the obvious effort she spent remaining still. He doubled his actions, sucking her clit and running his tongue over it.
Her legs started shaking again and, just to be evil, he thrust two fingers inside her. “Nope. Wouldn’t have any trouble at all. In fact, my cock does need relief. So be a good slave and stay still whilst I shag you and maybe I’ll let you come again.”
• • •
Just about every part of her body below the waist ached. Even after taking two ibuprofens and another soothing massage from Cole, there remained a pleasant awareness of how she’d spent the better part of the afternoon.
Her mind replayed what Julie had said about being his sex slave, but Sasha didn’t feel used. Even when he was taking his own pleasure, Cole watched her with such intensity and focus, she felt protected and cared for. And if the earth-shattering orgasms weren’t enough, whenever they finished, he would hold her close to his chest for a long time.
He’d brought the black lingerie back up the stairs and told her to put it on. She had twenty minutes before she had to be in his office. Putting the lacy panties on, she told herself it wouldn’t always be as good as it’d been today. What she was experiencing now was the honeymoon period of her slave training. She had to think that way, or else she’d never want to leave.
She brushed her teeth again. Cole had made her clean him after he’d taken her in his bed. She’d thought that after coming in both the kitchen and the bedroom, he’d need time to recover. He’d laughed at her surprise when he grew hard again in her mouth. He didn’t finish, though. Instead he’d told her to clean up and meet him in his office.
He was sitting at his desk when she entered, minutes later. His glasses were perched haphazardly on his nose and he frowned at something on his laptop. Not wanting to disturb him, she knelt in the middle of the room.
“By my side, Sasha,” he said, without looking up.
Unexpectedly pleased at his request, she started to stand.
“Crawl.” He still hadn’t looked up from his computer.
She froze, slightly caught off guard by his request. She’d crawled in play before, but they weren’t currently in a scene.
Except she was in a scene all day, every day, for the next two weeks.
She crawled as quickly as possible to his side and knelt beside his chair with her head bowed. As soon as she stilled herself, his hand fisted her hair.
“You hesitated.”
Denial danced on her lips. Or an excuse. If she thought really fast, she could probably come up with several good ones. But her heart raced as she realized the truth and knew there was only one thing to do.
“I did, Sir.” The fingers in her hair tightened and she added, “I’m sorry.”
“I had planned for us to spend the evening relaxing, perhaps watching a movie. Now, however, I feel your time would be better spent writing one thousand
words on crawling, its symbolism, and its meaning.”
She dug her nails into her upper thighs. No! she wanted to yell. She wanted to spend the evening with him, watching a movie, not working on a stupid writing assignment. But the hand on her head reminded her of her purpose in being in his house and she replied with, “Yes, Sir.”
“In the last sentence I spoke, did the word its have an apostrophe or not?”
What the fuck? Where did that come from?
“No apostrophe, Sir.”
“Very nice, little one. I expect no improper word usage tonight, but you should know that this time, I won’t have you recite dirty sentences.” She didn’t have time to be relieved before he added, “I’ll be the one coming up with the sentences, and you’ll have to act them out.”
And his sentences would be evil and wicked. While she thoroughly enjoyed that side of him, she had a feeling she probably shouldn’t goad him. “I understand, Sir.”
His hand left her head and she assumed he went back to work. Why then had he requested her to come to the office if he wasn’t going to say or do anything? She thought about all the other things she could be doing, but then stopped short. Here at Cole’s house, there wasn’t much for her to do.
She reminded herself, once again, that she was getting a taste of what it was like to be a slave. She should be thinking about how to please her Master—something she’d messed up on minutes before.
Maybe if she thought through what she was going to write on crawling, it wouldn’t take her that long to complete and they could still spend the evening together. Although, he might be working. He certainly seemed engrossed at the moment.
The room had grown noticeably darker before he pushed back in his chair. “Sometimes the simple presence of another person makes all the difference. I enjoyed having you in the room with me as I caught up on a few items, little one. So much so, I think we’ll make this a regular occurrence.”
She tried to cover her shock at his revelation and felt a little prideful that she’d made a difference. “Of course, Sir.”
“Come sit in my lap.”
He held out a hand and helped her to straddle his lap, facing him. He ran a finger down her cheek. “You look beautiful in black lace, but I think tomorrow I want you naked all day.”
She swallowed. She’d expected to spend time naked, but hadn’t planned on spending the entire day naked. Not on the second day.
“Yes,” he mused. “I think I’ll display you like a fine piece of art. Perhaps on a table. I can appreciate your beauty as I work, all the while imagining all the sordid things I want to do to your body. And then, when I finish for the day, I’ll write them all down and have you pick one.”
She was going to sit on a table? All day?
“Is that a frown?” he asked.
“Just trying to understand how it’ll work, Sir, with me being on a table.”
“It will work how I say it will work. It’s not your place to understand. The only thing you need to understand is that I have everything under control.”
“My brain has a hard time shutting off, Sir.”
“Yes, I know. Do you see now why it’s best you not work at the shop for these two weeks?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I know it’s a difficult state of mind to get to, but once you do, you’ll stop analyzing everything so much.”
“Thank you for understanding my struggles, Sir.”
He traced her lips with his finger. “I think I have something that might help.”
“It’s not an anal plug, is it?” Please don’t let it be an anal plug.
He snorted in surprise, took a deep breath, and shook his head. “No, nothing quite as awful as a plug. In fact, I think you’ll like this. Go kneel in the middle of the room.”
As she moved off his lap, her mind raced trying to imagine what it could be, but she came up with nothing. The sound of a drawer opening led her to believe he had it stored in his office, and that just confused her more. The only thing she would think he’d have in desk drawers were office supplies.
“Look at me, Sasha,” he said from a few feet before her.
His voice sounded a bit hoarse, which made no sense. He’d been talking all day and even up to a few minutes ago sounded normal. She lifted her head and her breath caught.
He was holding a collar.
Excitement surged through her veins and her heart pounded like she’d just finished a five-mile run. She blinked to make certain she looked at it right.
“It’s a training collar,” he explained. “Just for these two weeks.”
She kept her eyes on the collar as he stepped closer. It looked like a thin band of black leather.
“If I were collaring a slave, the collar would be locked around her neck and I alone would hold the key. This collar has a clasp, making it easily removable. Though we agreed on two weeks, there is nothing stopping you from walking out my door.”
Even as shocked and happy as she was to be offered a simple training collar from Cole, she didn’t miss the trace of emotion he’d been unable to hide while speaking. Having his collar locked around her neck hadn’t stopped Kate from walking out of his door.
“I know you’re aware of the meaning behind a collar,” he said. “And though this one is only temporary, I think wearing it for these two weeks will be beneficial.”
He probably had a point. With a reminder of who she belonged to for this time, always there around her neck, she imagined it would be easier not to let her mind lead her into hesitation.
He reached down and cupped her cheek, so gently his thumb stroked her skin. “Will you wear my training collar, little one?”
Tears prickled her eyes over a training collar. She mentally scolded herself. It wasn’t even a real collar; it was temporary. But she’d never been collared before, even in a training sense, and she couldn’t keep the fears tamped down that this might be the only time anyone would ever offer her his collar.
“Yes, Sir. I will gladly wear your training collar,” she said, surprised by how husky her voice sounded.
He reached behind her and buckled the collar into place, dragging his fingertips along the leather’s edge and making her skin rise in goose bumps. She closed her eyes. Cole had just collared her and for that moment in time, she pretended it wasn’t only for two weeks.
“Your neck was made to display a Master’s collar,” he whispered. “Just as your body was made for his dominance. My collar looks good on you, slave.”
My collar. It felt good, too. “Thank you, Sir.”
“I want you to stay in here in that position. Meditate on how wearing my training collar will help keep you in the proper mind-set. When you’re finished, you may put your clothes on for an hour of free time before dinner. I’ll allow you clothes at dinner tonight, too.”
“One question, Sir.”
“Yes?”
“May I start on my writing assignment during my free time?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You may, but your free time is limited and it’ll probably be tomorrow night before you get more time to yourself.”
“I know. It’s just—” She paused for a second, then told herself to be bold. “I’d like to spend the evening with you instead of writing.”
“I’d much rather you spend the evening with me, too. So if you finish your assignment and I have a chance to look over it, maybe there’ll be some time to be together.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
• • •
The woman who joined him at the dinner table a few hours later appeared calm and content and nothing at all like the wounded submissive he’d first taken notice of. Sasha was strong now, physically and mentally, yes, but even more so because she believed in herself. While he was pleased with the transformation, he knew at the end of her training he’d need to let her go. She needed to see that she could be strong and confident with other Dominants, not just him.
She sat across from him with a smile. Fuck, she looked so good
wearing a collar.
But not just any collar. His collar. Even if it was only for training.
She’d handed him her journal while he waited for dinner to be ready. Though he hadn’t had a chance to look over it, he had the feeling there would be no errors or grammatical mistakes tonight. So far Sasha didn’t seem to be one who had to be taught something more than once.
He’d selected a shirt with a plunging neckline for her to wear