Becoming His Slave (53 page)

“Absolutely not. I don’t do fast food.”

“You don’t have to, it’s for me.”

“Kat we have dinner plans for tonight. You can wait.”

She huffed, turning back in her seat, throwing her arms across her breasts. “But I’m hungry now.” She mumbled under her breath and suddenly she saw a bottle of water being offered back to her. She took it from Diesel and sipped sparingly. Water wasn’t what she wanted, she was hungry. And just because she had agreed to dinner didn’t mean she had agreed to being controlled just yet.

“Speaking of our dinner date tonight. I expect you to wear one of your baby doll dresses and I want you to wear the knee socks and heels. Not your boyish shoes. Understood?”

Katianna was silently making faces in the back, not certain how to respond. It was one thing when he directed her and she always found t so easy to follow, but now he was telling her what to do.
So not use to it either.
Her eyes flickered to the large man sitting across from her. He seemed particularly pleased that she was the one getting the scrutiny at the moment and not him.

“Kat?”

“Okay.” She huffed her response and heard a chuckle from Diesel, followed by a comment from Trenton along the lines of letting it slide for now.

“And I don’t want you wearing any panties.” Trenton called back further.

“What?” she twisted to gawp up at him.

“You heard me Katianna. No panties tonight.”

“But I like my panties.”

“Then you’ll be sure not to wear them if you want to keep them.”

Katianna was feeling particularly pouty now and she moved from the seat behind Diesel to the one next to Paris. As if moving would end the new rules from coming down on her all at once from its commander.

“So why are you letting them do this to you?” She looked at his wrists handcuffed in his lap, then up at him. He certainly didn’t strike her as the submissive type, so she was curious.

“Kat don’t go there.” The warning came from up front.

“You want me to be your slave, you’ll let me ask questions.”

“Then ask me.” Trenton told her and she caught a glimpse of his searing eyes in the rearview mirror.

“But you’re not a slave.” She turned back to Paris blinking up at him waiting for the answer.

Paris glanced down at her. Hell if she was willing to break the rules, he was game. “To keep my job.”

Her mouth twisted, okay so that was an answer she would never of guessed, “All this for your job? What kind of job requires you to be a slave?”

Coming from anyone else, Paris would of taken the questions as deeply frictional, but the expression on her face was anything but judging or confrontational. She really looked puzzled by the concept and was genuinely curious. Whimsical little person she was. “I’m the director for a special resort down in the Caribbean that provides sexual slaves for its guests at a certain season. I need to—so to say, walk a mile in their shackles.”

Kat let out a giggle, “You mean to tell me you work at the resort of delicious ejaculations?” She was about to bust at the comedy of it.

Paris refrained his laugh, he didn’t quite get it.

“You mean she gets it?” Diesel was asking Trenton who nodded his response and Diesel let out a loud chuckle, “Ahh come on Paris, I thought you knew Latin?”

“I do, but the resort is called Salientis du Deliciarum; fountain of pleasure.”

Kat was painfully in stitches now, “Yes, but it was the specific words they picked that translate further. The word ‘
salientis’
for fountain is used for
spray
or
to ejaculate
and ‘
deliciarum’
became the root word for delicious.”

Paris rolled his head to the side—okay so he got it now. “What sick puppy thought that one up?”

“Diesel.” Trenton announced with a deep smile from behind the wheel. “We were thinking on
Salientis du Libidine
, fountain of lustful pleasure, but then he got to thinking
deliciarum
worked better. For one it sounds better, but also because most people will only think
delicious
and think it means Fountain of Delicious pleasure.”

“Diesel?” Kat was twisting in her seat, “How is it, Diesel came up with their name?”

“Because he’s part owner.” Trenton answered back.

“We all are.” Diesel added, glancing over his shoulder at her.

“And was it your rule he had to do this for his job?”

“Yes.” The two answered in unison.

Kat was twisting suddenly digging for something inside the waistline of her jeans, her expression had a comic determination on it and within seconds she pulled out a key, but not just any key it was a key for handcuffs and she reached over and quietly, but quickly unlatched one of Paris’ hand cuffs.

“Thick as thieves they are you know?” She looked up at Paris, “Do you see what we’re riding in? They’re worse than the CIA.” She glanced to the two arrogant alphas sitting up front then back up at Paris, “Now they own their own island? Who owns their own island? Next thing you know they’ll declare their own government and legalize all slaves.”

Paris lost control of his laughter, “Must be that writer’s mind working up there.” He teased her. He couldn’t help it; the impulse to do so was almost irresistible.

Katianna sat back with a surprised glance, “They told you I write?”

“Yes”

“Did they tell you what I write?”

“No.”

“Erotica. I don’t do CIA or new world order stuff—they do.”

Paris sat back in his seat, oddly he was dying to know how old she was, she’d seemed very mature all the way till now, her curious playful banter made her seem so young and that she was so small he was baffled. Truthfully he instantly liked her company and just wanted to know more about her. “How old are you?”

“Why?” She scowled up at him.

That was the first typical female thing he’d seen her do, clam up on her age. “Just curious if you’re even old enough to have a relationship with the Dominus.”

“Ah!” Her mouth popped open, “I’m 32.”

Paris chuckled to himself. Ask a woman her age and she’ll clam up. Accuse her of being too young for something she obviously wants and she’ll tell you exactly how old she is. Works every time. “Oh my god where did you get this little creature?” Paris asked the men up front. He had to admit he adored her cute mannerism. No wonder they liked her. She was completely different from any of the other women that hung around the club.
Hell
she was cuter then any of the girls he’d ever known in his life as well.

“Paris, meet the little mouse.” Diesel offered the informal introduction.

“Deez! Don’t tell him I’m a mouse.” She scolded. The way she saw it, giving him her nickname only gave him open range for more teasing and she already got it from them often enough. Especially from Diesel when he insisted she came down to the gun shop for the safety classes he held.

“You’re supposed to call them Dominus and Patronus.” Paris tried correcting her.

Katianna felt as though she’d been teased and ordered about enough and now from all sides, but she wasn’t ready to get teased so openly by the new guy and she didn’t have to be corrected by him either. She was already about to get a whole new dictionary of commands from Trenton during their courtship she suspected, but she didn’t have to take it from Paris. “I don’t have to call him that. I don’t have to call either one of them by anything but their names.” She scoffed as she began to crawl over the console and rolled into Diesel’s lap. Once she landed in her
safe
place, she leaned over peering back at Paris and stuck her tongue out at him.

Diesel clamped a hand on her jaw, gently pushed her mouth into a pucker, turning her to look at him. “Don’t tease the animals—” he let her go, “especially when they’re bigger than you.” Katianna leaned forward again glancing over Diesel’s shoulder at Paris once more who held up his freed wrists to taunt her and she heard his chuckle when she quickly ducked away.

Shortly after, Trenton pulled up to the estate buzzed the gate key then pulled in when it opened.

Paris was instantly gaping out the window.
Okay surprise me
. And he had plenty of questions now about this little woman that Trenton was so infatuated with.

Trenton brought the truck around back along a side access driveway and parked near the pool. Diesel let her out on his side while Trenton walked around and led her back to her cottage.

“Damn, she lives here?” Paris asked leaning up to peek out the front.

“In the guest house, far side of the pool.” He motioned with his head.

“So she’s what Trenton likes in a woman, huh?”

“Are you kidding? She’s adorable. And she’s actually pretty damn smart, but usually quiet and very reserved, though as you just saw she has her quirky moments. Amongst her skills, she has two kinds of pouts one that makes you want to just wrap your arms around her and shelter her; the other would win her damn near anything she wanted.”

“She’s pretty ballsy for her size.”

“Only with us. Out there damn near everything scares her.” Diesel jutted his head to the world outside. He had insisted she came to his self defense classes regularly, but when it came to her the best he could do was teach her how to get away and hide.

“Why’s that?”

“Small and skittish, apparently always has been, but something happened to her just before we met her. She’s never talked about it, but shortly after we
did
meet her she was attacked and nearly killed. That’s when she came here to live in her publisher’s estate. Trenton’s been watching over her ever since.”

“So what happens if he falls in love with her and turns all lovey dovey and cant dominate over her?”

Diesel glanced back over his shoulder at Paris who’d moved to the seat directly behind him watching from over his shoulder. Paris tucked his wrists out from sight, but kept his gaze with Diesel.

“If Trenton falls madly in love with a slave, and lavishes attention and love on her and somehow his authority as Dominus slips and they’re both
happy
, then why care about the authority slipping?”

Paris was puzzled by this. How did a B&D Master love a slave? “But doesn’t loving a slave contradict being a master?”

“On the contrary, you can’t truly master a slave
without
loving them. Though there are plenty out there who will argue it, because they fear that love could weaken them, but it still comes down to the basic fundamentals—one cannot call themselves an avid baseball fan and not love the game. It is very possible for a master to love his slave and still be a master and hold dominance over them, but if it is lost—it should not matter because what’s more important being the authority or being truly happy with someone.”

Wow okay. Diesel, the philosophical one.
Who’da thunk?
Paris obviously didn’t, but now having listened to him, Paris was starting to have some deeper thoughts he’d never entertained in his head.

Wait! No! Not going there
—
just back off
. Paris shook his head refusing to allow any emotional yearnings to creep up on him and decided he needed to get off the subject pronto. “So how many books does she have out?”

“
Uh
well—” Diesel shook his head and scratched at his chin “Well over a dozen now, but I don’t know the actual count.”

“Can I have one of her books?”

“What to read?”

“No to chew on.
Yeah
to read.”

“You’ve been pretty good this weekend, I’m sure we can pick one up on the way home somewhere.”

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

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Katianna met him at the door when Trenton arrived to pick her up, dressed in a baby doll dress just as requested. But if anything in his face was an indication of what he was thinking when he looked at her, she could just imagine what hers looked like to him. Trenton showed up in the fine black, silk dress slacks he often wore that pleated around the hips and fell loosely over his boots, but it was his shirt that really had her attention. The sheer black dress shirt with tailored seems down the front of each peck muscle teased the senses in every way with darkened glimpses of muscular flesh all set off with a narrow width deep cobalt tie. Dressed well enough for a fancy restaurant, but made sure her eyes would be taunted by the sight of his body all night. It just made his marauding arrogance all the more radiant and conquering.

Trenton’s teeth ached at the sight of her instantly, the leopard skin micro print gauze fabric gathered just under her breasts in classic baby doll fashion. A wide sash stitched into the side and tied in a bow across her breasts pulled them in to actuated her cleavage, topped with ruffled spaghetti straps and like most of her doll dresses it hung at the perfect length in the middle of her thigh, while off white scalloped lace peeked out from under it to hint of the lacy under skirt. Oatmeal colored socks with black scalloped trim came up just over the knee and her feet dressed out in a pair of pricy heels.

Trenton took a deep breath and let out a growling approval. His expression like a dreamy lion that was just getting started with ideas of what he wanted to do with his prey.

“You told me to wear a baby doll and the socks.”

“Aye I did.” He stepped closer, “Now let’s see if you followed the rest of my instructions.”

Kat took a quick step back, but Trenton caught her arm and gently, but firmly pulled her back to him, “Guess that would be a
no
.”

Katianna fell still. There was no sense fighting it, he had her and she had panties on.

Trenton’s hands came up her skirt and she felt the heat from them the second he touched her skin. It nearly took her breath away, to have him touch her so close to her most needy parts and she really did
need
his touch. Ever since he’d dropped her off hours ago with little more than a kiss and a few explicit words and she’d been in arousing development mode ever since. Memories of a time when he touched her to make her feel good, of a hot overwhelming kiss that took her breath away and damn near scared her to death.
Dear God,
she wanted to be scared by him again. Now, the very nearness of his body and his hands grasping her hips was making her melt and her theca growing wet.