Dom Vs: Domme: The Deluxe Trilogy: A Billionaire Romance (Dom Vs. Domme Book 0) (22 page)

No, everything negative I feel is solely due to
me.

It takes a lot of nerve and resolve to go up to a man and say
dominate me.
Perhaps too much. As a Domme, I don’t have to think about my pride or my self-worth. It’s ingrained into me as a part of my role. If I submit? It’s going to be at the forefront of my mind.

Even so, Ian said I didn’t have to do anything. He wanted some casual sex if I was up for it. Doesn’t matter. This whole submission thing is in my head.

If I’m ever going to try it, Ian is the only man I’ll trust with it.

Shit, don’t ask me why! I’m trying to meditate here. And yet all I can think about is Ian Mathers shoving me against two walls and fucking me as if he’ll never have the chance to do it again. As if the world is ending. As if he can’t get enough of me or my body. Usually when men act like that around me, it’s because I’m their Domme. It’s so different having a non-submissive man slather you with attention like that.

It’s noon. People are enjoying the park. Here on my enclosed balcony, I can see their colorful heads moving around, playing games, eating food, jogging… it’s all so peaceful.

I’m at peace.

It won’t be so bad. I’ll go to his place, I’ll do whatever he wants, but at the end of the day I’ll still be the same person. Some women go through gay experimentation – or so I
hear.
Me? Maybe I’m experimenting with submission.

A deep breath takes me over. In several hours, it will be Ian Mathers taking me over.

***

Two hours later, I receive a text from him. “Instructions.” Hm. Well.

It’s a list of requests. Mostly apparel. I was going to dress girly, but it seems he has other ideas. Multiple lines of text, each one describing what he wants me to wear, appear before me.

He’s a meticulous Dom. I’ve never required my subs to wear anything other than skin.

This is going to be interesting. Perhaps not as interesting as how much my body tingles as I go through my closet, looking for items close enough to his descriptions, however.

I’ve never dressed up for a man before like this. I’ve never followed his instructions, knowing that what I’m doing is meant to arouse him.
His
tastes, not mine. The way I do my hair, the jewelry I wear, even my underwear… it’s all for him. And me. We pretend it’s all for him.

Maybe this submitting thing is easier than I expected. A part of me can’t wait to see what tonight has in store.

Chapter 24

IAN

I’m a nervous wreck.

Me, a Dom. A man who is used to being in control. Now I’m being given the ultimate control by the woman I least expected. The woman I expected to want me the least. And now the woman I expected to submit the least.

I want her so badly. She consumes my mind all day.

I eat lunch with my father and some of his friends. We take the old-man party to a lounge to waste away the afternoon. Men with forty years on me talk about the good ol’ days and chide me for still being a bachelor. Yet they pour me more drinks, and my father clicks his tongue.

“Don’t want to hear any talk about women right now,” he mumbles. “Ian needs to be focusing on his work, or at least until the hotel is taken care of.” Of course, he beams at me in that know-how way. He’s a man. I’m his son. He wants proof of my virility without actually knowing the details. I’m allowed to wait for marriage, however. I admit it’s not something I think about, even as I turn thirty.

Every man I’m sitting with has a daughter, granddaughter, or niece who is looking for a “nice” man. I know that code talk. I also don’t doubt I’ve seen some of these young ladies at The Dark Hour. Maybe I’ve fucked a couple without realizing it.

I’m not thinking of them. I’m thinking of
Kathryn.

Tonight, she’ll submit to me.

We’ll see.

I should be excited. I am. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Men can’t buy experiences like this – not often. Dominating a Domme. Guys salivate at it.
I
get hard at the thought. There are many aspects of BDSM, and one of them is helping a sub give up utter, complete control. When that sub is usually dominant? It will either be the best sex of their life…

Or the worst.

Many don’t indulge more than once. Maybe they enjoyed it, but it’s not something they want again. I’ve heard about it over drinks, in secret, from other male Doms. You’re hard pressed to find a Dom who has never subbed at least once. We’re quiet about it.

I’ve never subbed. Never interested me. Then again, it’s never interested Kathryn Alison.

Until now.

Until she picked me.

We have an early dinner where I’m offered more drinks, but I decline. I need to keep a level head for tonight. I’m entering my headspace.
My
headspace. The Dom’s world where I mentally prepare to initiate a beautiful young woman into my sort of play.

It won’t be the first time. But it’s
Katie.

On the cab ride home, I think of her wearing the outfit I assigned her. Breasts pushed up. Pussy spread. Her lips all over my cock as I pull her hair and call her whatever name she wants me to call her. I’ll tie her up. I’ll deny her the use of her senses. I’ll make her
beg
for my cock… and what I keep inside of it.

I wouldn’t be a very good Dom if I didn’t claim a sub like her. Even if it’s one night, I want her to know what I truly feel like inside of her. No condom. No pulling out.

During one of our late night conversations she told me she has an IUD. Got a lovely description of it being put in and how much cramping it caused. I have a hard stomach, but even that made me cross my legs and wince. I never thought I’d be using the information as leverage to have unprotected sex with her.

Unprotected.
Fuck, I’m hard in a taxi. What I would give to have a hot woman in my lap right now. Sucking me, fucking me… I don’t care. It’s taking every bit of resolve I have to not hop into my condo and jack the fuck off.

I get the place ready. Make sure I know where everything is. Put out some wine and check the fridge for food in case she shows up hungry. I’m playing a long game tonight. I want to make sure she’s comfortable and into what I’m offering.

I don’t want to scare her off. Even if it ends up with me simply driving my cock into her, my face buried in her throat, I don’t
care.
Dominating her will be a bonus.

See? She’s doing strange things to me. I don’t get this nervous preparing for a date in my own home. I can’t let her see me nervous. From the moment she steps through that door, I am a man in full control.

Damnit, Kathryn, why are you putting this pressure on me?

***

At 8:10, when I’m thinking about texting her to make sure she’s not standing me up again, someone buzzes my door.

I’m ready. That’s what I tell myself when I step away from my desk and make sure the cat is locked up in the library so she won’t disturb us. Knowing her, she’ll be conked out until 3am when she begins her next stint of crazies.

I’m
going crazy.

Especially when I open the door and find Kathryn Alison, dressed as close as she could get to my specifications.

She’s damn close, considering I gave her almost no lead time.

On the surface, she looks like a woman heading home from an office job. A military green trench coat – I had asked for brown, but this works – covering her torso and down to her knees. No pants. Just a couple of black boots that clink on the floor when she walks. Those are a Domme’s boots, no doubt. No buckles or belts, but they’re menacing.

And hot.

Kathryn’s silky blond hair is coiled on top of her head in an elaborate knot. I had asked her to wear it up. Minimal makeup, aside from a hint of lipstick and some eye shadow. I want her to dress up, but to also show me a more natural side. I don’t see any blush, but there’s probably some concealer there.

Two diamond earrings dangle from her lobes and down her long neck. They glitter with every step, and I’m almost so entranced that I don’t notice the spark in her blue eyes and the smile tugging on her lips. I close the door behind her. I don’t offer to take her coat. Not yet.

I know what she’s wearing – or not wearing – beneath it.

“Good evening,” she says, demure but not quite submissive. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

I step behind her, hands hovering over her hips as my nose takes in the scent of the heady perfume on her neck. “Lovelier now that you’re here, Katie.”

She shivers when I call her that. I don’t know her body language well enough yet to tell if she’s annoyed or excited.

“Do you want a drink?” I move away from her, before I’m enticed too much. It’s important that I draw this out. Her first time. It’s always exciting – even more exciting that it’s
her.
“I’ve got wine or something harder.”

“Wine is fine.”

She doesn’t help herself to anything. I end up gesturing to the couch, which she slowly approaches and sits upon. Her blond bun bobs above the edge as I pull out two glasses and pour us both some red.

I need it. I don’t doubt she needs it too.

The hardest part right now is trying to act cool. In control. Any sub will count on her Dom to be relaxed and, well, dominant at any moment, especially during a potential scene. It’s my natural state, but this is
Katie.
She’s seen me burp after dinner and fall asleep on a table after working for hours on end. I’ve talked so casually with her – had such casual
sex
with her – that it almost doesn’t matter anymore.

Except she’s not any sub. She needs me. To be strong. To be collected.

Do you know how hard it is to be collected around someone like her? Her beautiful thighs poking out from beneath her coat, giving me a hint of the garter she wears? Shit. I want to plant my lips on her and spread those thighs here on my couch. If this were that Wednesday dinner, I’d make my move doing that.

This isn’t Wednesday, Ian. This is Saturday. You’re a Dom right now. Dominate this woman.

“Is it good?” I wrap my arm behind her, pushing my body toward her, cornering her. She’s my prize tonight. My prize for wowing the council. I may have taken her right after that, but now I’m going to slowly devour her until she’s so wet and writhing that she doesn’t even know who she is anymore.

I know that’s what she wants.

Kathryn stiffens. This is going to happen a lot tonight, I know. I’m pushing boundaries on a woman who has never had her boundaries pushed like this before. If I’m gentle with a normal woman her first time submitting? I have to treat Kathryn like a delicate doll – without being obvious that it’s what I’m doing. I don’t want to frighten her
or
insult her.

“It’s sweet.” The rim of her wineglass hovers around her pink lips. I’m still fighting back my hard-on from earlier today, and all I can think about are those luscious lips on my cock, sucking like I almost got sucked off again by Stephanie May last night.

You kinda owe me, Katie.

“Right. You’re not usually a woman who likes sweet.”

She puts the glass down on the nearest table. “Sweet has its place.” Her eyes glance at mine. “You’re not really a sweet guy, though.”

“No.” My fingers curl around the back of her neck, marking her skin with pressure, testing her limits. “For you I might make an exception.”

She’s doing things to me. She’s always done things to me. That incident we had years ago? I’ve never had that happen with another girl. Not when I was a kid, and definitely not now. Yet from the moment I lightly kiss her throat, inhaling her intoxicating scent and feeling myself stiffen more and more, I feel like it’s about to happen again.

Kathryn Alison gives me tremendous thrills.

It’s only right I give those back to her.

“Katie,” I murmur against her heartbeat, feeling her relax against the couch beneath me. “Do you like it when I call you that?”

Her hand rests on my leg. Her touch is everything I want, everything I need. My body is heating up. My cock is going to make a great escape from my pants if I’m not stupid careful. Tonight will be such a test in self-control.

“Yes.”

“No one else calls you that, right?” I’ve never heard it. Granted, I’m not thinking much about it as I unbutton the top of her coat and reveal that she’s wearing nothing but lacy black underwear beneath. A pushup bra. Not that she needs it… but holy shit, looking into her shadowy cleavage has me… I can’t help it. My hand grabs her breast, gently, although trust me when I say I’m using every ounce of self-control to keep from mauling her.

“You’re the only one, Ian.”

“You will call me sir, tonight.”

This time I know she’s stiffening from discomfort. I reminded her of why she’s here. I’ve established our roles.

She must submit.