He brazenly cupped her breast. “I understand shyness, Ms. Banks, but you signed up for something unique, something quite different from an ordinary relationship, and I intend to deliver. Starting tonight. The formality will come, but the authority doesn’t shift. I’m in charge. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“Words, please.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. If you need to use your safe word I expect you to, without hesitating. Tell me what your safe word is.”
“It’s penguin, Sir.”
“Shall we move on?”
It seemed silly, but the reminder of that word brought courage. It gave her a safety net she very much needed in case things got out of hand. Nodding, she whispered, “Yes, Sir. I’m ready now.”
He didn’t respond verbally, but something shifted in his gaze as all the authority slid back into place. It wasn’t as if he stole control from her, but in some unspoken way he borrowed it and a sense of delicate ease took hold. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it was definitely unfamiliar, which might be why her instinct was to shrug it off.
His hands slid down to her hips and jerked her back to his front. She gasped as his fingers crawled over her tummy and combed through the hair at her apex. “This will be waxed tomorrow.”
“Waxed?”
“Yes.”
She was prepared to argue for a less painful approach, but all thought fled as he found her clit and slowly teased her sex, still holding her tight to his front. He was a desirable man, and something inside her called to him. When he touched her like this, a bit of her anxiety drifted away. Her shoulders relaxed into him as her knees softened and her head rested against his chest. In that split second of leaning into him, feeling him physically catch her weight as though it were his duty, a calm settled over her. It was incredible to be touched by a man, but there was something spectacular about being touched by a man like Jude Duval.
His mouth closed over her shoulder and she shivered. He had yet to kiss her and she wanted his mouth on hers more than anything else. Turning, she rose to her toes and frowned as he stepped out of reach.
His fingers caught her wrists, trapping them in a strong hold. “You don’t decide, Collette. That’s not how this works. I can be a little less formal, but you will never be the aggressor in my bed. Do you understand?”
His rejection was delicate, like a sharp blade made to cut as clean as possible, but it still sliced deep. Her head lowered and she whispered, “I just wanted to kiss you.”
“I will kiss you when I feel you’ve earned it.”
She blinked, wondering, again, if this was a mistake. In theory, the D/s dynamic had much appeal. There remained a simplicity that seemed lost within modern romance. But maybe she was too much a product of society, too influenced by liberation and notions of equality to bend to such a degree.
She wanted to experience everything Fernweh promised. “I’m sorry. I’m ready now, Sir.” She’d do it, because a part of her desperately wanted what he offered.
“Then let’s try again. Get on the bed, Collette.”
A distant ringing sounded in her head as her arms tingled with numbness. They would have sex and then things would come more naturally between them. She could do this. Swallowing repeatedly, something that seemed to happen continually around him, she nodded and climbed onto the tall mattress.
“On your stomach, please. Head down.”
Again, she frowned, but did as he asked. Folding her hands under her head, she found a comfortable pose and waited, but he didn’t join her on the bed. After several minutes, she lifted her shoulders and looked for him.
“Did I not instruct you to lie on your stomach, head down? You’re going to learn to follow directions, Collette. I insist on it.”
“But you’re just standing there.” What the hell was he doing?
“And if I chose to have you lie there until morning so I could stand and watch, that would be my right. Disobey me again—without using your safe word—and there will be a consequence.”
Grinding her teeth, she returned her cheek to her arms. Maybe he was having second thoughts about their agreement too. After another length of time, she suggested, “We could try again tomorrow.”
“Ms. Banks,” he snapped. “Am I being unclear?”
“No, Sir,” she mumbled into the bed.
“Then you will be patient. Everything we do serves a purpose. It’s my job to deliver that purpose. It’s your job to follow my direction in order to experience the lesson. Quiet.”
Taking a deep breath, she pressed her lips tight. With her head down, she couldn’t see what he was doing. She had no idea where he was looking, if he was touching himself or silently moving about the room. He didn’t seem as into it as he’d been a few minutes ago.
Ten minutes had to have passed. What was the holdup? Something must be wrong. “If you’ve changed your mind—”
“Damn you, woman,” he growled, and then he snapped, “Don’t move. Don’t speak. Just do as you’re told and stay put.” The door opened and closed with a snap.
Silence.
Did he leave? Cursing her curiosity, she slowly turned. He was gone. She was relieved but at the same time concerned. Where did he go?
For some time she waited for him to return. Her eyes closed and she drifted on the verge of sleep. A door opened and closed quietly, drawing her back to consciousness. There was a feather-light touch along her ankle calling her body awake.
A soft giggle and Collette’s eyes went wide. She spun to her back just as a brunette with olive skin giggled again and waved. “I heard you were bad,” the woman said with a mischievous grin.
Collette screamed. It seemed the only sensible thing to do. Jolting off the bed, she continued to scream as she made it to the door. Ripping it open, she shrieked again, startled to find a man on the other side. The lawyer, Ezra, stepped inside, causing her to stagger backward. “Going somewhere?”
Her arms covered her private parts as she edged her way to the robe on the floor. Snatching it up, she shouted, “Jude!”
“Stop screaming, Collette,” Jude said as he stepped into the room, voice and mannerisms as calm as ever.
“She’s a feisty one,” Ezra commented, dropping into one of the leather chairs.
She crept farther toward the corner, righting her robe for coverage. The filmy satin wouldn’t cooperate as her trembling hands frantically searched for the sleeves. Jude opened and closed a drawer, holding something at his side. She gasped as he took the robe and tossed it aside.
“Enough. Get back on the bed.”
“But—”
“Do not question me. You have a safe word. You may say that or thank you, Sir. Otherwise you will remain silent.”
How about fuck you? Could she say that? Scowling, she scanned the room. Though Ezra hid what she assumed was a smirk, enough authority rested in his gaze that she knew he wasn’t her ally in that moment. She looked at the woman, who openly smiled and tipped her head to the bed. Looking back to Jude—okay, he was definitely giving her his Dom eyes. She climbed onto the bed and sat, arms crossed over her breasts.
“Lie back.”
Her mouth opened, but he silenced any forthcoming remarks with a stern look that reminded her he was serious. Lowering herself to the covers, she gasped as he took her arm and closed a leather cuff around her wrist. When he tied her other hand she panicked. “Wait.”
“Use your safe word,” the woman whispered. “Either that or shut up. You’ve upset him.”
But she didn’t do anything!
Her thighs pressed together as the lawyer and the woman watched her. Jude stood back and crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Part your legs, Collette.”
She sent him a pleading look.
“Do it or safe-word and I’ll send you to bed.”
So basically
she could either do this or leave. Tricky, giving her a choice to end this. But would he be disappointed? Stupid question.
The ache that came with imagining his disappointment on their first night was more than she expected. He’d given an ultimatum, not a threat, and she had a decision to make. Choose to submit or return, independence intact, to her room.
But he was here to teach her how to be a good submissive. Submitting was the foundation of their purpose. Her eyes closed as her legs spread. Anger danced on the brink of upset as she waited for whatever happened next. Overall, she was more confused by her contradicting emotions than anything else.
“She’s very sexy, Sir,” the woman said.
Collette’s face burned as she sensed the woman openly staring at her exposed body.
The lawyer spoke. “Come sit by me, Lea.” The woman’s steps shifted away from the bed—obediently.
Peeking through her lashes, Collette stared at the chandelier hanging from the bed frame until her vision blurred. He was doing this on purpose, trying to humiliate her.
“Do you understand now, Collette? Your body is mine for the next thirty days. Aside from your hard limits, I’m entitled to take and do with it as I please. If I choose to stare at it, you will not object. If I pose you a certain way, you will stay. If I put you on display for the entire village to see, you will stand there until I give you permission to move. You’re here to learn what it is to submit, to explore your sexual appetites and push your limits so that you can be properly paired with the perfect mate. In order for that to happen, you will be obedient or you will be without a sponsor. Do you understand?”
A tear slipped from her lashes. “Yes, Sir.”
She jerked as his touch grazed her cheek, catching her tear. His fingers brushed over her hair as he leaned down and whispered. “Do you need to call penguin?”
She knew the others were watching, but he’d whispered in a voice too low for anyone else to hear. The fact that he gave her that private moment to let him know where she was emotionally—not that she had a clue—told her he was in control of the situation and she was still his first concern.
She shook her head. This was the most bizarre moment of her life, yet she wasn’t afraid. She was merely uncomfortable with their audience. “I’m okay, Sir,” she rasped, and he stood at his full height.
“Good. Say good night to Ezra and Lea.”
It had been a long time since she felt such sharp humiliation. But most painful was the knowledge that he inflicted that humiliation on purpose. Everything he did, every interaction between them served a purpose. The purpose here was clearly to show her how explicit his authority was. “Good night.”
The door opened and closed and they were alone. “Do you need to use the bathroom?”
She nodded.
The cuffs around her wrists loosened and she curled up on her side. He surprised her by lowering to the edge of the bed and brushing a hand down her back. “Take a moment, Collette.”
She sniffled. “Why were they here?”
His hand remained on her hip, fingers brushing softly. “Because I asked them to come.”
“Why?”
He drew in a slow breath and removed his touch. “Your Dom will likely take pleasure in exhibitionism from time to time, Ms. Banks. We are not a shy people—private, but not necessarily what I’d consider shy. My point is, pleasure is the Dom’s right to stipulate. It’s the submissive’s privilege to provide. Do you want to provide everything your Dom needs?”
“Yes.”
“Then you need to listen and let him lead you. The beautiful thing about a qualified Dom is that he provides explicit instructions. There are no games. I wanted you to lie still and that was exactly what I asked of you, yet the simple task proved too much. Obedience isn’t about force of will, it’s about control, your control over your own will.”
He still didn’t explain why he’d invited them into his private bedroom when she was unprepared and undressed. But it was over now and she had thirty days to think about his intentions. She understood he was teaching her a lesson, asserting his authority in a manner that showed her, had she done as he’d asked, that never would have happened.
Leaning close, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Go freshen up and we’ll start over.”
She took several minutes in the bathroom, washing her hands carefully and staring at her pale face. It was her decision to plunge into this without much consideration of how it would actually feel, and now that all these unexpected emotions were coming into play, she feared she’d made a grave mistake. Truthfully, that was her greatest fear, that she wasn’t strong enough to do this for herself. It wasn’t supposed to be this difficult, but then again, she hadn’t really examined all the privileges linked to free will.
When she returned to the bedroom, he waited with his shoulder against the bedpost. “Better?”
She nodded.
“Do you have something to say to me?”
She’d give it twenty-four hours before making any major decisions. Playing his game, she muttered, “I’m sorry I questioned you.”
He sighed, his eyes softening as he walked to her. “You’re allowed to ask questions, but you may not question my authority every step of the way, Collette. You’re not the boss, peach. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be for you.” He studied her for a moment. “You have something else you’d like to say. Let’s hear it.”
Her lips tightened and she shook her head.
“Collette, you signed a contract swearing to communicate honestly. I’m inviting you to speak freely now.”
How could she ignore such an invitation? Narrowing her eyes, she said, “You embarrassed me in front of your friends.”
“Which is something I do not enjoy doing. You tried to rush a process that takes time, and I showed you how it feels when important steps are skipped. Patience is a requirement. Furthermore, your defiance gave the impression you needed attention. I gave it to you, perhaps not the way you expected, but you were indeed the center of attention for all of ten minutes. I could have done a lot worse, sweetheart. You’re not even the first naked woman they saw today. Don’t read too much into it. I needed to make a point and I made it. Now you’ll remember.”
Oh, she wouldn’t forget. But where the hell was his apology?
Just then, he said, “I’m sorry you needed such a reminder. Perhaps next time you’ll follow directions without argument or attitude.”
Her eyes narrowed again. That was hardly an apology.
“It’s getting late.” Taking her hand, he led her to the edge of the bed. “Sit there.”
She did as he instructed without question.
“Good girl. Part your thighs. I want you to get used to sitting that way when we’re alone.” He waited. “What do you say?”
“Y-yes, Sir.”
“Good.” He surprised her with a kiss to her forehead, his hand brushing affectionately down the back of her hair. It was incredible how much that praising gesture eased some of her confusion. “Unbutton my pants, Collette.”
Her hands trembled, but she reached for his belt buckle and carefully slid open the clasp. The heat from his stomach touched the back of her knuckles as she unfastened the button.
“Now the zipper.”
Swallowing, she slid the zipper free. His arousal, dark and full, sprang upward against an auburn nest of curls. He was very thick, likely the thickest she’d ever seen.
“Take my cock in your hand and stroke it.”
And there it was, that direct authority calling to her once more. Curiosity returned as she reached forward. His flesh heated her palm as her fingers curled around his length. She stroked slowly, her elbow bent outward to accommodate him.
“I like your hands on me, peach.”
Thrilled by his words, she firmed her grip. His hand pressed into her
shoulders, pushing her back to the mattress, and she released him when the angle changed.
“I’m going to fuck you, Collette. You’ve made me wait all night and now I want to get off. Tomorrow—if you behave—will be more about your needs.”
There was hardly any time to prepare as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and his cock pressed against her sex. She expected his entrance to be challenging, but her body was slick with arousal. It was surprising how wet she was. Some men had spent hours on foreplay and still struggled with coaxing her body to that point, yet he’d managed with only a few direct commands.
With little time to mentally prepare, he slid in to the hilt, and her body stretched at the sudden intrusion, breath whooshing out of her lungs, as the forgotten feeling of being taken rushed in. So many uniquely human sensations flooded her nervous system—the press of the mattress against her back, the softness of her hair surrounding her face, the rich scent of him, all of him, so strong she swallowed the memory with every breath.
“How is that? Any discomfort from earlier?”
So distracted, it took her a moment to understand what he was asking. Her appointment that morning at the doctor’s seemed like a lifetime ago. As the specialist had said, her body had recovered immediately and she felt no different with the IUD than she had without it. It touched her that, for as dispassionate and methodical as this all seemed, he paused to consider her comfort. “I’m just full, Sir. You’re very large.”
“Good.”
Unblinking, she stared up at him. It was the most impersonal sex she’d ever had. Yet her body was quivering and slick with arousal. He was awakening something inside her. Perhaps it was the idea that this was solely about his needs and she was somehow meeting them.
Leaning over her, he looked into her eyes. “Do you have something to say?”
He was so thick her tissue stretched to accommodate him. If he touched her clit she’d come. It was unheard of. What did he want her to say? It suddenly seemed imperative that she do everything he asked. He’d told her not to speak unless she needed to use her safe word or . . . “Thank you, Sir.”
He smiled and thrust hard. She moaned with the force of his entry. His grip tightened around her hips, holding her at the edge of the mattress as he proceeded to fuck her at a fixed pace. And then she understood. Him. This was about him. Yet she’d yearned to serve a Dom so deeply, in a strange way it was also about her. He was feeding a starved part of her soul with every greedy advance.