Dom Vs: Domme: The Deluxe Trilogy: A Billionaire Romance (Dom Vs. Domme Book 0) (58 page)

“Here.” I hand her a check. Yeah, I’m working old school like that. I figure, hey, maybe she’ll lose the check and that will be on her. Not that she has yet. “Now be on your way.”

She takes the check and looks at it through big eyes that say nothing about her intelligence. Oh, but she’s shrewd. She was shrewd enough to show up here when I was sharing an intimate night with Ian. She’s got pictures of me done up like a sub. A fucked sub.

I can’t risk it.

And don’t tell Ian! He doesn’t know. I
know.
It’s bad news, but it is what it is.

“I’m sorry things have to be like this, Kathryn. You seem like a nice lady. I saw all that
good
work you did for those communities.”

I cross my arms and give her a sour look. What is her game? I don’t believe for a second that she’s actually complimenting me.

“Why haven’t you left yet?”

She cocks her head at me. Fuck, she’s a good actress. You know, I actually liked some of her movies before this whole debacle began. It was one thing when she was caught up between Ian and me. No hard feelings. Then she pulled this shit. Now it’s all hard feelings.

“I like to think in another life we could have been friends.” Stephanie shrugs, check dangling from her hand.

I narrow my eyes. “We would have never been friends.” What is this, high school? I know Stephanie is barely in her twenties and I’m not
that
much older, but she’s so fucking immature. “For one thing, I try not to be ‘friends’ with people who pull this petty shit.”

“Petty? You think I’m petty?’ That chuckle could choke cats. “Is it petty to be pissed at a guy who leads you on with sweet promises and then pulls the embarrassing shit he does?”

Wow, she really doesn’t know Ian. That was basically how we met.

“Is it petty to follow greener, richer pastures like his father? Dominic is a sweet man who knows how to spoil a girl, if you know what I mean.”

I don’t want to know what she means.

“Hey, just think, Kathryn, I could maybe be your mother-in-law one day!”

“Don’t even joke about that.”

“In the meantime, I’ll make hay while the sun is shining. Don’t know what tomorrow will bring, and these checks you and Dominic cut me will go far in securing a nice nest egg for me. My mama taught me to be a frugal bitch, and that’s what I intend to be.”

I raise my eyebrow at the designer clothing she’s wearing.

“These were gifts.”

“Uh huh.”

The cat is clawing at the door I have her trapped behind. Pitiful meows erupt, and I take that as my cue to see Stephanie out. By the time I close the door, all I can think about is why I’m doing this to myself.

Why am I paying off someone as trite as Stephanie May? Because I can’t afford her blabbing about my private life with Ian.

Why do I have this private life with Ian? Because I’m falling for him, and submitting to him has been so liberating that I don’t want to let it go yet. Even the regular, vanilla sex we often have is exactly what I need. Because like I said, I’m falling for the bastard, and I think he’s falling for me.

It’s a scary thing to think about.

Over in this desk drawer I have a tiny notebook filled with random thoughts and notes about what I’m doing with my life. Not really a diary. Just scratches and streams of consciousness.

One page is dedicated to my relationship with Ian. In one column, I list everything I’ve changed and compromised about myself, from the little things like spending most of our time at his place, to the big things like
submitting.

In another, I list what he’s compromised.

There’s hardly anything. He’s certainly never submitted to me, even though I’m not sure I want him to. Then again, the fact that he’s never offered is a point of contention.

Is all this worth it? How much farther can we take this? What will be the tipping point? Will I get tired of paying off Stephanie and waiting for Ian to do more for me? Will this all end because I’m tired of it?

I can’t imagine being tired of it. Thinking about separating from Ian at this point leaves a hole filled with panic in my heart. Why would I do that? Why would I kick away the one thing bringing me the most comfort and happiness? When I woke up this morning in his bed, all I could think about was how content I was to roll in his scent, look at his belongings on the bathroom sink, and raid his fridge before taking a shower and showing myself out.

Even his doorman knows my name now.

Our parents want us to be together. How many people can say that?

Maybe I’m overthinking this shit. Maybe it’s not so bad to be his girlfriend, his, I dunno, fiancée?

Would Ian Mathers ever ask me to marry him?

On the surface, it sounds wonderful. We’d make a powerful couple, especially if our families were officially joined like that. We clearly feel something good, and are independent enough to give each other space without compromising our relationship.

There’s just the matter of what I need deep inside.

It’s not enough to submit. I need to dominate as well.

I write this down in my journal:
“I will never be a sub. I can only hope to become a switch with Ian. Will he do that for me?”

That’s an answer I can’t bring myself to contemplate.

Chapter 3

IAN

There’s nothing better to do on a Friday night than sink cock deep into a woman.

Especially after a week of nonstop meetings, dealing with ranting foremen, and the usual freakout of
we’re never going to get this done on time.

I was glad that Katie could come by after work. I was gladder when I whispered my plan into her ear and she nearly ripped her collar out of my nightstand drawer where I keep it.

Tonight we’re trying one brand new thing. She’s gagged, a silk scarf stuffed in her mouth and tied around her face. If she really needs to, she can say her safe word and I’ll understand, but I assured her beforehand that no hardcore kink is happening tonight. My only wish was to strip her bare, bind her to my bed, and thrust into her until I completely forgot myself.

At this point in our relationship, if I ask her to be nothing but a quiet doll, she’ll more than likely do that. With her collar twinkling in the light, I fuck her, every bit of her cunt warm and inviting – and wet, of course.

Her body is beyond measure. I focus on that, at the way her legs are spread by the ties holding her ankles to the bed, her wrists overlapping above her head, blindfold and gag blocking out every sense but what she can feel and hear. As selfish as it sounds, I don’t want to hear her voice. I don’t want to deal with her demands and needs, as a woman or a sub. I’m thrashed. It’s a miracle I have enough energy to do this much.

If she didn’t want this, she would say so. That’s enough for me to know so I can dive right in and lose the whole world around me.

Kathryn’s body belongs to me. Her existence is all that matters. Our connection is beyond the universe – certainly beyond this bed. My phone is off and the door locked. I don’t care who tries to get in here, or what kind of emergency has befallen.
I don’t care.
I need to end my frustration, and the best way to do that is to fuck this irresistible body.

Don’t think I’m totally selfish, though. I can tell, from the way her breaths shoot out of her nose, her whimpers eke from her gag, and her inner walls stroke my cock, that she’s having a wild time being my silent little sex doll.

Good.

Take me hard, and take me forever, Katie. I’m gonna stop at some point – I’m only human – but until then I only care about feeling my cock bury deep within this vessel and emptying it until all the pressure is gone from my weary body.

Hey, never let it be said that I don’t know what I
want.

Kathryn’s breathing increases. She’s so wet that I almost slip out of her time and again, but I am a man with a mission, and that mission is soon coming to an end.

I grab her hips, foisting her upon my cock as I bend down and bite the nearest nipple I can find. She squeals on her gag, her core clamping down on me as she starts to come. I didn’t tell her to hold back tonight. I’d prefer if she waited for me, but I’m ready enough to finish that I’ll let her start the festivities.

My thrusts are faster, harder, my cock flooding with my virility and insisting on taking this woman in ways she both knows and has never known. She opens, wide, and although she tightens around me, she’s relaxed and ready. At its most primitive, this is a female body anticipating my seed so we can perpetuate our glorious species.

It’s not going to get that far. What is going to happen, however, is my climax currently tearing through my body and making me roar like the fucking alpha beast
I am.

In those few moments, I am able to appreciate a woman in her own moments of ecstasy. Kathryn shudders, both around me and beyond me, her breath stilling in her chest as she accepts my seed with spread legs and a warm core. I can only assume that being shoved in to my base is making her feel deliriously full, which does wonders for my ego in my moment of glory.

Her breasts fit perfectly into my hands. Her inner walls massage me until I can’t give her any more. This moment almost feels like fate. Almost, because I don’t believe in fate.

Even beneath the blindfold and gag, I think I love this woman.

My orgasm allows me to return to my senses. No longer do I feel like a hungry wolf on the prowl for his next kill. I don’t feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t take out my frustrations on
something.
I’m here. I did it. In the healthiest way I can comprehend.

Before fatigue can claim me, I untie my darling and remove the gag. Katie breathes deeply, sucking air into her lungs as if I had been drowning her. I leave the blindfold on a little longer. She knows better than to rip it off herself with the collar on.

She looks good in this collar. I should have her wear it more often.

“Well, that was good,” Kathryn says, stretching her arms above her head. She rolls toward me as I settle onto the bed, hand touching my chest and exploring what it can find with her blindfold on. “I’m assuming from the way you came that it was good for you too.”

I have no complaints, and tell her as much.

Eventually I take off her blindfold, and she looks at me with these baby blues that know how to make me come undone. Many men dream about their blue-eyed blonde, but I’m the lucky bastard who gets that and a personality that provides endless amusement. A personality I’m starting to miss, so I unclasp her collar and toss it onto the nightstand.

Right away, I’m not disappointed.

“That was rougher than you took it for.” She smacks my chest, her grin devious. “Had I known you were going to do that to me, I would’ve done some stretches earlier.”

I imagine her taking a break during our earlier meeting to do some lunges and splits.
“What are you doing?”
the man we were meeting with would ask.
“Oh, just getting ready for my boyfriend to plow my pussy later,”
she would respond.

I’d laugh if I weren’t so exhausted. My eyelids are heavy enough to knock me out.

“You know,” I begin, stroking her hair and curling her up in my arms, “I think it’s safe to say you’re more than done with the intermediate part of your training.”

“Intermediate, huh? Is that what you’ve been calling these past few weeks?”

Uh huh. Kathryn needed me to break her domineering habits when we were having scenes. I punished her justly, with spankings, hair-pulling, rough fucking, dirty words, orgasm denial, and even bites to her throat and shoulder until she learned to fully submit to my whims whenever the collar was on. Soon enough she was docile and willing for anything I presented. In turn, I learned the positions and words she responded to the best, and made sure to use them when she was being rewarded.

Child’s play.

“I know you’re not interested in lifestyle BDSM.” Her body tenses in my hold, and I caress her shoulder to soothe her nerves. “Neither am I. However, I think for your final round of training I’m going to propose we give it a whirl for a few days.”

“A few
days?
”

I sit up, even though I’m tired and my body is more ragged than an actual rag. I want nothing more than to sink on top of her, inhaling her scent and feeling her warm body against mine as we drift off to sleep.

“A ‘few’ meaning three at the most. I’m not that cruel.”

“You’re not cruel at all.” Even though she says it flippantly, those words hit my brain like a shock. I don’t know why. “But that’s asking… a lot. I don’t know anything about being a lifestyle submissive. Not even from a Domme’s end. I’ve never done that before.”

I can sense her discomfort, and I don’t blame her. Kathryn Alison has never considered being a lifestyle submissive, even when she’s indulging in wearing a collar and letting me call her filthy names as I take her in new and degrading positions. There’s a thrill in knowing that.