Dom Vs: Domme: The Deluxe Trilogy: A Billionaire Romance (Dom Vs. Domme Book 0) (20 page)

She squirms in his lap. “Please, sir, punish me.”

I’ve seen Lana grab some balls and squeeze them before. This is not that scenario. This is a Lana that makes even me wet. She’s obedient, she knows her place, and she knows that she deserves whatever her Dom gives her. If I swung that way, she’s exactly the type of woman I would want.

A cracking spank echoes in the room. Ken laughs at the gasp on his wife’s face. “You want another one? I’ll spank you until you’re so wet my hand slips.”

He goes ahead, striking her pinking flesh over and over until her eyes roll back and her face tells me that she’s living in ecstasy. By now her skirt is hiked up over her hips, her tiny thong not covering her ass and barely covering her hairless pussy. Yes, I can see those details from way up here. Yes, I’m looking.

“You need to know your place, kitten.” Such biting words. “Right here in front of these people. Now keep your mouth shut and take your punishment.”

Ken doesn’t let any of us down. I almost want a cigarette from watching him pin his wife to the floor and fuck her from behind.

Hard.

Rough.

Lana is shrieking in pain and pleasure, probably not yet wet enough to take her husband’s cock. That’s part of her punishment. He wants her to feel the stings of pain in a place that is supposed to be nothing but pleasure.

It’s crude. It’s tough. And it’s so fucking hot that I finish my drink without realizing it.

There’s something beautiful about it. The way Lana opens her eyes and looks up at him, mouth agape and face pleading for him to do it faster. It’s the kind of look that only a tight knit couple could accomplish. You don’t see it often. A woman begging for release with her demeanor like that… and to have the man realize. They’re so in tune that it fills me with bitter jealousy. I’m turned on, but I’m also wishing that I could feel something like that…

I catch myself in the middle of that thought. What am I thinking? Am I high?

“Fuck me!” Lana grips the edge of the stage, her ass rippling with every hard thrust she receives. He’s going in unprotected, and I know we all in the audience are hoping for the same outcome. We want to see him mark her, claim her with his seed in any way he deems fit.

When it comes to women who tend to be in control like Lana, there’s only one of two ways to put her in her place with a man’s orgasm. Either come on her face, or come inside her.

Ken chooses the latter.

Their groans collide as Lana starts coming first. Ken soon releases himself, his hands squeezing so tightly on her hips that she nearly swats them away. Yet he has her down, her ass pointed into the air and her legs spread so wide that she has no choice but to accept his cock. I know he’s coming because of the steady thrusts and seeing Lana’s eyes flutter shut in absolute ecstasy. That is a sub being marked – and lusting after every moment of it.

I’m both intrigued and confused. If I didn’t know Lana so well, I would assume this was her natural place in their relationship. That Ken always takes control and makes her his. Except I know them. For years they’ve been coming – and
coming
– here. I’ve seen Ken tied up on an ottoman while Lana whacks his ass and calls him filth. I’ve seen her edge him until he’s begging to come in front of God and country.

That’s where I get confused. I’m not a switch, so the idea of whipping one night and being whipped the next blows my mind – and not in the fun way. I don’t get it.
How?
How does a person flip a switch like that in their heads? Being a Dom and being a sub are such different mindsets that I’m not sure I can ever understand what happens in a switch.

Obviously two switches can make great partners. Just look at these two assholes.

Lana crumples on the stage, her husband’s hand gently caressing her spine. I can’t hear what he’s saying. Nobody can, aside from Lana, who grins and whimpers something in return.

It’s cute. It’s sweet. It’s what I always see between these long-term partners who are so in love. A part of me is jealous. I want that with somebody. The coziness. The love. The feeling so comfortable that the idea of having sex in front of the whole room isn’t even an issue.

All around the room are submissive women. I don’t see a single Domme. Either the women are hooked up with men domineering over them, or they’re stag and searching for someone to make nice with them. It’s a common night at The Dark Hour. Only before now I hadn’t really thought about these submissive women and what goes through their minds.

Because that’s supposed to be me. I stood up that date with Ian because I’m too scared to know what goes on in the head of a submissive woman.

Submissive men are easy. They’re giving up the power that society already thrusts on them. Who am I kidding? They still have that power. Even when I’m calling them boys and squeezing their balls, outside of our bedroom the world will still treat them as above me. Submitting to a man… why would I want to give up even more power?

I’ve fought so long and so hard to make people take me seriously.

And yet I can’t help but imagine that being Ian and me, his hands laying claim on me as he takes me to a higher state of consciousness that I’ve never experienced before. I’ve never been in subspace. It looks so blissful, and yet I’ve been so scared to try it for so long.

I don’t give up control. It’s too dangerous.

And yet… Ian…

Tears that I can’t control stream down my face. I don’t know why I’m crying. I don’t know why I’m looking at Ian’s name in my phone, wishing I had the courage to call him and apologize for standing him up. I wish I had the courage to explain why I’m so scared.

Perhaps I don’t have the courage because I don’t trust myself around him. The moment he puts his hands on me, I’ll want to do whatever he says, even if it goes against everything I usually want from my life.

All of this is teaching me that I’m not as strong as I’ve always thought. I feel powerless. Even without the stupid bet, I…

I’m coming undone. I need to leave.

Chapter 21

IAN

Does it feel good being stood up? No. Am I mad? A little. Am I over it? Mostly.

I’m mostly mad that I was made to feel like an ass in one of the nicest restaurants in town. At least I didn’t get the private room. Instead I had them seat us – me – in the far corner where I could stew in my indignation in peace. When a half hour passed and I hadn’t heard a peep from Kathryn about being late, I feared the worst. After one hour, I went ahead and ordered dinner, piling up on alcohol and looking around the room for familiar faces.

The night wasn’t a total bust. I saw James Merange and one of his business partners, and we had a good hour-long row about some of the latest scandals coming out of Wall Street.

And when we had a lot to drink and his partner left, we started talking about what two Doms are wont to talk about. Women. Subs. Sex.

I haven’t told anyone about Kathryn. None of it. So I didn’t tell James, but I did tell him I had been there for a date and was stood up. He was aghast, if only because men like us aren’t used to being stood up. Unless it’s a fellow rich person who doesn’t find dinners like this out of the ordinary. Men like James have always preferred dating “commoner” women because he likes to impress people. Although he’s been with Gwen forever, don’t let it fool you – she was a bartender he picked up one day. Just like that. Boom. In love with a gorgeous girl who could charm any guy out of his pants. I mean, Gwen’s blond. Don’t think I haven’t thought about it.

Since
apparently
I have a thing for blondes.

Beautiful, cunning blondes who remind me of Kathryn. Fuck me. I’m a basic male at the end of the day.

I haven’t heard from her, and I don’t care. She’s made her decision. Do I wish she was less rude about it? Obviously. Do I want an explanation? Kinda. I know she’s not dead or otherwise indisposed, because I would have heard about it. In fact, I heard on the grapevine that Kathryn was hanging out at The Dark Hour last night, sulking and watching the Andrews get their freak on.

Whatever.

I’m having a quiet evening at home. No work, no appointments, just me and Saoirse, who is having her seven o’clock crazies and mauling her favorite toy in the middle of the living room.

It’s the kind of night where I dim the lights, pour myself a glass of whatever, and either sit in front of the computer or the TV. Long week. Time to decompress before my appointments this weekend.

Looks like it’s me, the cat, some brandy, and a website about felines and their weirdness. Don’t judge me. I like fluffy cat videos as much as the next asshole.

Alcohol is barely in my mouth before someone buzzes my door.

Anyone who is able to go straight to my door is either on a list – like my father or Valerie – or someone who knows how to push over the doorman. Sometimes a total random will slip through, but for the most part, I can expect to recognize a friendly face when I open my door.

Suffice to say, I am not expecting to see a beautiful blonde draped across my doorway.

“Ian,” Stephanie May purrs, her tits spilling from her skimpy dress and her smile costing at least $10,000. “Long time no see. You haven’t returned my call, but I know from the news that you’re a busy, busy man.”

It’s true. Stephanie called me a few days ago to congratulate me on my win with the council. I didn’t respond, because I was still a bit embarrassed about what happened, and because I was so consumed with
Kathryn
that other women weren’t even a consideration.

Well, looks like Kathryn isn’t happening. Stephanie is here instead.

I move away from the door so she can enter. The door closes, and there’s Stephanie, pushing herself up against my wall in the most tantalizing way. I’m not dumb. This woman came here for one thing. I guess even me calling her the wrong name while fucking her couldn’t override the power of other things.

I know what things.

“Can I get you a drink?” I hold up my brandy. “Or should we cut to the chase?”

Stephanie approaches, her long, thin legs a treat to behold. She plucks my glass from my hand and sips it, sure to wash her tongue all over the rim. I’m suddenly reminded of the fantastic way she sucked my cock… what was it? Two? Three weeks ago? I can’t keep track of the time.

You know, this might not be a boring night after all.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been very… reachable recently.” Stephanie rubs her hand on my chest, plucking apart buttons before I have the chance to touch her at all. “Busy, you know. Been filming a movie out of state. But I’m here now.”

Her voice sounds so sweet. So approachable. So… submissive.

I guess she liked the taste she got after all. I flash my best domineering smile, my thumb wiping some liquid from the corner of her mouth.

“You’re a surprise.” I walk away, taking my now empty glass to the kitchen. Stephanie’s eyes follow me. “Didn’t think I would hear from you again after what happened.”

That rattles her a bit. “Don’t worry about it. You’re not the first man to do that.”

Women say that a lot. I’ve been saying that a lot. Damnit, Ian, what is it with you and fucking up during sex? And why does it always come back to Kathryn?

Don’t do it, man. Don’t think about her right now. Remember what happened last time? Yeah.
Yeah.

“It was rude.” I approach her, my hand dusting her bangs out of her face. She really does have a superstar’s visage. Beautiful jaw line. Wide eyes. Cheekbones to die for. Her glistening browns will often get covered up with blue contacts, but right now I’m enjoying how lovely she is just as she was born. Classic beauty. Don’t think she’s had any work done – yet. And I hope it stays that way. “It’s rude for any man to do. I’m sorry that happened. Willing to give me another chance, are you?”

“About that.” She’s smiling, blushing a little. Stephanie thinks she’s playing coy, but she’s a terrible actress around me. That’s fine. I don’t want an act. I want the real thing, real reactions. That’s especially important to me in a sub. “I’ll give you another chance, but only if you do something special for me.”

“Oh?”

Her bashful smile turns into a look of sheer determination. “I want more of what you were offering me that night. I think I like it.”

“You make a beautiful, natural submissive.” I’m not lying. I’d love to see her obey my commands. Not just suck my cock and bend over for me. I want to hear her call me
sir
and respond to the way my hand smacks her skin.

And so much more.

“You think so?” She flutters her eyelashes at me. “I think I’d like to try it out…
sir.”

Ah, there it is.

I put my hands around her cheeks and go in for the kiss. This will be easy. She walked right into my place and is practically throwing herself at me. Everything I want.

Almost.

The door buzzes again, and we’re interrupted. Stephanie implores me to not answer it, but once again, if someone made it to my door, it means it’s probably important.

I tell Stephanie to hang tight. Hopefully this will only take a minute.