She smiled. “I’d prefer you not to have to as well.”
Coll leaned against the wall and watched as she circled the room, standing still for several seconds by the St. Andrew’s cross and the bar for Shibari work to be hooked on. Finn looked up at the hooks but made no comment and moved on to look at the long table he’d use for scribing. She made her way back to his side.
“The other rooms?”
“Individual dungeons. For more privacy, although some are big enough for spectators and all have security cameras and a dungeon master watches everything from the control room as well as one being in the room with whoever is using it. We take security and safety very seriously. There’s a lot of people who’d love us to be closed down.”
Finn nodded. “I’d heard.”
What did she think? He waited as patiently as he could, as he saw her considering expression. Then she raised her eyebrows in query.
“Do you all do different things? You know, a Dom for all scenes?”
He laughed at those raised eyebrows. It was such an extravagant gesture it looked silly, as no doubt she intended. “Some. Although a lot of things we all do to some degree, some more than others. For instance, as I mentioned, Alex Sunderland, my mentor, is a Master Scribing artist. All I know I learned from him. He’s considered to be the best. Although he’s a not a sadist, he is on the darker side of the spectrum. I’m not. To me, pain isn’t the be all and end all, I guess in some ways to Alex it is. Having said that, there’s no one I’d rather turn to in a crisis. I know I’d get instant backup and encouragement.”
He had to fight not to demand she told him how she felt. It had to be up to his kitten without any prompts or hints, but by God it was hard to hold back his natural reactions.
“Okay,” Finn said slowly. “I get the picture, I think. Can we go back to the flat now, please? I was going to say your home, but is it?”
“For now it is.” However he was pleased she’d understood the difference. “Home is the cottage. Which if you’re willing, I thought we could go and check out. I’d like to see what stage were at.”
And hope you tell me what you think of the club.
Her eyes lit up. “I’d love to.”
They began to retrace their steps.
Tell me what you think, for fuck’s sake.
“Could we go check…?”
He put his finger over her lips to stop the question.
“No, we couldn’t. You’re to stay well away from your cottage for now. Let Jeff get all the security stuff in place and then we’ll go and see what’s what.”
“You didn’t know what I was going to say,” Finn said indignantly. “I might have been going to say can we go check out the new coffee shop in the village.”
Coll unlocked the doors and took her back to the corridor outside his flat.
“Yes, I did, and no, you weren’t.”
She sighed. “No, I wasn’t. Mind you, I hate not knowing if my stuff is safe. Yes, okay, most of it’s here, but…” She shrugged. “It still sucks.”
He hugged her tightly, as if by contact he could make everything a right. Of course he couldn’t, but he had to give her his love somehow. Tearing her clothes off and fucking her senseless in the corridor might not be the way to do it.
More’s the pity.
Chapter Twelve
“Well, all I can say is this is fab. It’s so not what I expected when you said cottage and as it has been under scaffolding and tarps ever since I got back, I had no idea it was so big. I love it, every last bit. Even the red Aga and the pale pink walls in the kitchen. It fits.” Finn spun round in a circle and ran her fingers over the cream units. “Your work.” It wasn’t a question. She took several paces across the old quarry tiles that comprised the floor surface. “Where’s the butcher block?”
“Do you want one?” Coll asked in an amused tone.
“Of course I do, it’s the perfect add… Hold on, me?”
His expression immediately turned to wary. “Well, I was hoping you’d be the one to share it with me.”
Finn stopped pacing, stared at him, blinked and a wide grin covered her face as she took a run at him. Coll staggered and caught her as she flung her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist.
“Oh yes, please, oh yes, I do, Sir, my Sir. I do… If you’re sure.”
“Oh, I’m very sure, kitten. What else do you want in here?”
She kissed his neck and leaned back with a speculative look in her eyes. “Well…”
He laughed. “Later, minx. I promise you over time we’ll christen every room and work surface. For now it’s look and see, not look, see and play.”
“Mutter, grumble,” Finn said with a light and breathy edge to her voice. “Okay, Sir. What else do we have to see?”
“There’s a utility room over there behind the Aga chimney. I’m guessing all the white goods will go in there.”
Finn nodded. “Shove the dishwasher in as well as the washing machine and drier. Less noise. If it was up to me, I’d put the fridge and freezer in there as well, so this kitchen diner can be less… Oh, I don’t know noisy, I guess.”
“Memo to me, tell the builders my lady wants it so.” It was so good to say that. Judging by the beam on Finn’s face, she agreed with his thoughts.
“Now what else,” he continued. “Lounge, dining room, study, an ‘I don’t know what to do with it yet’ room, four bedrooms, all en-suite and…” He paused and mentally took a deep breath. “A large attic room I’d like to make into a dungeon.”
Finn’s face lit up and she slid down his body, a move which interested his so far reasonably quiescent cock, dropped to her knees in front of him and nuzzled him over his jeans.
“Oh, thank goodness for that.”
“Why?” She still hadn’t told him her thoughts on the club and its contents.
Finn’s chest heaved as she took a deep breath and looked up at him. “Because, please, Sir, I so want somewhere just for us.” She gulped and he watched her swallow several times. Coll stretched his arm out and just managed to snag a bottle of water from the work surface. He handed it over with a smile. “It can’t be that bad. Just spit it out.”
“I, oh hell, I hoped I wouldn’t have a need to admit this, but I so do
not
want to play where anyone else can see. What we do, will do, is, as far as I’m concerned, for us and us alone. I really am not interested in scening in front of people, even if it is just a dungeon master. Not yet anyway. I so don’t want to show either of us up.”
“Kitten, you won’t.” But he was oh so glad to discover why she’d not been as enthusiastic as he’d hoped, and in honestly he couldn’t fault her reasoning. Better to be sure than sorry. Except for one thing. “Kitten, the dungeon master is there for your safety, not as a voyeur.”
“I know but even so,” Finn said in a stubborn voice. “You’ll keep me safe. I trust you.” She grinned. “And anyway, if anything went wrong, your balls would be used for golf. The others would make sure of that.”
That was for sure.
“So, for the moment, I’m saying scening or playing or whatever at the club is red. I’m not sure even seeing anyone else play there is anything else, either. But never say never. Not yet. But no it’s not yellow because it’s more red than that,” she said in a rush. “So here please, not there.”
“We will go and socialize, though,” Coll said. “Meet our friends for coffee and a chat.” He kept any hints of a question out of his voice.
“Oh yes, of course, but not to play or watch. Not yet. Please.”
“All right, kitten, not yet. Those two words, ‘not yet’ seem to be a theme with a lot of our subs. No public play until they’re comfortable.”
“Not just me?” Her relief was palpable.
Coll shook his head. “Ask the others. For us, I’m fine with it. We best get this playroom kitted out, yes?”
“Oh yes, Sir.” Her relief was obvious for him to hear in her voice.
“Then let’s go and measure it up, and then check out what’s stored in my workshop.”
Coll was pleased to see how little else needed doing to the house before they—he hoped it was they—he still had to broach when she’d join him—moved in.
Finn joked about the siting of his scribing table. “In front of a mirror so I can see what you’re doing,” and “how many cupboards he’d need for floggers”. She’d asked for purple Shibari ropes—her favorite color, it seemed—and agreed not to have baby doll pink anywhere. They’d both decided a super king wooden sleigh bed with certain additions would be perfect, and Coll admitted there was one he’d started in his workshop. That did it. Within minutes they were out of the house—Finn said it couldn’t be called a cottage—in the car and on their way to his workshop not far away.
“When will you move in with me properly?” he asked. “No pretense.”
“When you ask me,” Finn said promptly.
“Now.”
She laughed. “Now it is.”
That was how simple it was. “Then once we can empty your cottage, we’ll sort stuff out. Alex, the builder, says three weeks to get into the co…house. Damn, we need a name for it.”
“Alex the almost but not quite sadistic Dom builder? Your mentor?”
“That’s the one.” They drew up outside his workshop. “Right, let’s go see what you think of it all. Wait until I come round and help you out.”
“You…oh, right.” She sat still whilst he walked around the bonnet, opened the passenger door and held out his hand.
“Carver’s Cottage,” Finn said. “That’s the name for the house. Or, The Scribe’s House.”
Finn grabbed hold of it and swiveled around on her chair to put her legs out. He watched, as, as usual she just reached the ground with her tiptoes and slipped gracefully off the seat and stood on the ground.
“Kitten, I like both of them. It’ll be your choice.”
“I’ll ponder then. Didn’t Jeff arrange for a guard or something here?” Finn asked as he walked toward the double roof-high doors. “After all isn’t it known as yours? And by now probably and I do hope so, so am I. Known as yours.”
Coll shook his head. “You’re mine whether anyone knows it or not. But this shed? We never let it be known, because it’s so far away from anything else. If anything I guess… Oh fuck, yeah, I was going to say only the estate workers know. But Donny was one.”
“Yeah. Hold on.” Finn turned back to the four-wheel drive vehicle they’d arrived in, and rummaged in the big carryall she’d insisted on bringing out with her. She emerged from the car and waved something in the air. “Better lock up, Sir.”
He pressed the lock button on the key fob and heard the locks snap into place.
“All done.” He saw what she carried and swore his mouth dropped open. “An umbrella?”
“Yes, Sir, but what an umbrella. This was my granddad’s dad’s. Or one more dad back, I’m not sure. Evidently it was ahead of its time. Not only is it an umbrella, it’s”—she twisted the handle—“a sword stick, or if I keep in short, a cosh. I think the least said about that relative, the better, but I’ve carried this around ever since I went away to uni.”
“For God’s sake, don’t kill anyone with it,” Coll said, somewhat alarmed at the weapon. Was it illegal to carry it in public without a license or something?
“Nah, just chop their balls off,” Finn said with relish. “Or hit their gun arm. Or…well anyway I feel happier with it handy.” She shortened it to look like an innocent umbrella once more. “Right, lead on, my Sir.”
He took they keys out of his pocket and walked over to the building. “If it’s what you like then, it’s just a case of final sanding and staining or whatever we fancy. I must have known I needed to get it done as soon as I could. It’ll be done for us to move in.” He unlocked the padlock and keyed in the security code. It was the first time he was happy he’d gone over the top with his security. With an effort he pushed one of the heavy doors back and moved to one side to let Finn in. Force of habit had him pocketing the padlock in one pocket and the key in another.
“Sounds spot on. Oh my…” Finn stood still in the doorway and then ran across to where the bedframe was. “This is perfect. Oh yes, such interesting carvings. It’s, it’s…well, it’s ours, isn’t it?”
“You like it?”
She gave him the sort of look he suspected she’d give a not very bright child. “Well duh, Sir. Can you get it done quicker?”
“I wish. However, sadly not if we’re still on alert for those fuckers, no, not really.”
“Then the sooner we get them, the better. I just wish we knew what all the shit was about.”
Coll took her hand and drew her farther inside. As ever his touch made her wet and her clit throb and demand attention. She blocked the erotic thoughts and arousal. Now wasn’t the time.
“This is the wood I think would be perfect for your butcher block once you’ve sketched it out for me,” Coll told her. “What do you reckon?”
“Oh yes.”
Finn dropped to her knees and stroked the large piece of oak he’d found several years earlier and saved for something special. He hadn’t known what the special thing was until that day. She looked up at him, grinned and swallowed. Then her eyes widened as she tilted her head slightly and spoke under her breath. “Didn’t you say the doors were a bugger to move?”
“Yeah, why…what the?” The light from the aperture behind him decreased dramatically. Coll spun round just in time to see the door slam shut and the barn plunge into darkness.
The lack of windows had always seemed a positive point before.
“Is this where I put on my pitiful, fag-scarred, croaky voice and ask if you’ve got a light, guv?” Finn’s query and the tone she used was semi-humorous, but the fear in it made him want to commit murder.
“And it’s where I should say I don’t smoke but hell on wheels, I’ve got smoke coming out of my ears. Don’t move.”
“I hadn’t intended to. I don’t think I ate enough of my greens or carrots or whatever you need to be able to see in the dark.”
“You’ll have light in a sec. I just want to make sure no one is standing outside waiting to see what we do have to help us.” He kept his voice low and stood, straining to hear any noise from outside.
The faint sound of two engines faded and then there was silence.
“Okay, I think that’s our transport gone, and theirs as well. Hold on, let me get my phone out first.” He fished it out and switched the torch on. The tiny beam lit up Finn’s white face.