Surrender to Fire: Maison Chronicles, Book 3 (7 page)

No.
He was not her Dom. He’d let someone else deal with her attitude, even if it would be fun to discipline her, see if he could make her roll her eyes at him again.

“I’m going to assume you’re feeling better, if your sass is any indication.”

Camille snorted. “
Sass
? I didn’t know people still used that word.”

That did it.
She wasn’t his, but he could only take so much. He grabbed her chin and made sure she was looking at him. “That’s enough, sweetheart. Don’t snap at me just because you’re out of your element.”

Her eyes narrowed. She tried to look away, but he got in her face until all she could see was him. He watched her anger dissolve—first in her eyes, then her tight lips, then her clenched jaw. She yawned again, then sniffled. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Her blue eyes went watery and he waited for the tears to fall. She pulled at his grasp but he didn’t let her run. “Please let me go.”

Ignoring her, he opted to pull her off the couch and onto his lap instead. He cradled her against his body, letting her hide in his shirt. “You’re coming down, is all. It’s not surprising your emotions are all over the place.”

She nodded and swiped at her eyes. “Doesn’t mean I can be rude.” A deep, shuddering sigh shook her body. “I’ve never hit subspace before.”

He tensed. “Kat told me you’d had experience as a submissive.” He rubbed her back, hoping to soothe her. It had been a while since he’d been needed for extensive aftercare. His demo assistants all had their own Doms take care of this and his last girlfriend always wanted to be alone afterwards. This was…pleasant.

“Two years.” Tears tracked down her cheek. He let the silence stretch until she filled it. “Once he realized I was no good as a submissive, he left.”

What the hell?
“He’s either an idiot or an ass,” he said. The way she’d submitted to him had been mind-blowing. She made it look as easy and natural as breathing.

Her chuckle lifted his dark mood.

“You might be right. I’m just not sure on which count.” Another yawn, and this time her jaw popped. “Ow.” Camille rubbed her right cheek.

“Let’s get you back to your room, okay? You can take a nap.” He didn’t want to let her go.

“Maybe in a bit. This is kind of nice, actually. Different.”

He wasn’t going to like her answer, but he asked anyway. “Different, how?”

A shrug. “Oh you know. Warm. Cozy.”

If you’d sliced open his vein, steam would have billowed out. “I take it you didn’t get much aftercare with your Dom.” She cringed. He stroked up and down her arm, soothing the sting of his voice.

“I didn’t really need it after chores.” She reached for the water bottle next to the couch and he grabbed it for her. Holding it up to her lips, he waited while she rolled her eyes, then deigned to drink. “Is this what it’s supposed to be like?” She shivered. He held her tighter against him.

“Do you find this comforting?”

She nodded and sighed, her warm breath blowing across his arm.

“Then, yes. This is how it’s supposed to be.”

“Well shit.” She tilted her head up until their eyes met. “I think there’s a distinct possibility that I’ve been doing this all wrong.”

Her flushed cheeks and reddened lips tempted him. What Dominant wouldn’t treasure her? He brushed aside a lock of dark hair strewn across her cheek. She bit her lip, demolishing his control. Cupping her cheek in one hand, his lips found hers. He only wanted a taste, but she gasped and her lips parted, inviting him deeper.

He groaned, nipping her bottom lip and tipping her head back so he could kiss her more thoroughly. His tongue slipped against hers, searing her taste onto his memory, richer than honey and heady as bourbon.

Her hands clawed into his T-shirt. She shivered in his arms. “Oh God.”

“Been doing that wrong too?”

Her forehead pressed against his chest. “I’m thinking so.”

Their deep, ragged breaths filled the room. He tried to recall all the reasons this was a bad idea, but with her sweet body cradled against his, he couldn’t remember a single one.

She shifted, brushing her ass against his cock, which was still achingly hard, and he hissed. She froze and winced. “Sorry.”

He kissed her again in reply, one deep, long, wet liplock before breaking apart. “Not your fault… Actually, yes it is.” He’d have to do something about that. And the fact that she’d obviously been with a shitty Dom. Maybe one night together would be good for them both.

A blush crept up across her cheeks. He’d never found the demure bit sexy until now, but, damn, did it pack a wallop. She moved, away this time, until she stood over him. “So…thanks. I think. I mean, this was very informative.” She folded the blanket and draped it over the couch. He watched in amusement as she tried to act normal while still half-naked.

Two steps away from the door it hit her. Camille froze, snapped her arms across her body and turned back to him. “Where’s my shirt?” Her voice was higher than normal. He struggled not to laugh.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, where’d you put it?” She huffed in annoyance. “More sass? If you were my sub, you’d be over my knee.”

She came back and jabbed her finger in his chest. “Well I’m not your sub, am I?”

Or that’s what he thought she said. He was a little distracted by her now-exposed breasts, which he’d not seen earlier. Damn. Full, tipped with pale, rosy nipples, they’d overflow his hands. He envisioned her on her knees, her breasts swaying as she sucked him—riding him, tits bouncing as he fucked her deep and she came around him—wax puddles on her nipples, pale skin reddened from a crop, begging to please him.

“Damien, are you even listening? Shit!” Her arms once again covered her chest. She stalked across the room, snatched the blanket from the couch and draped it over her shoulders. “Look, you’re a great instructor,” she said, backing towards the door.

He’d let her think she was leaving, knowing she wouldn’t go anywhere in just a blanket. Now, he rose and headed for the door, cutting off her escape. “So quick to leave?”

She nodded warily. “As I said, very informative, you rock as a teacher, but I’ve got stuff to do…” Her words trailed off, likely because he’d cornered her away from the exit.

“Aren’t you just a little curious?” He was. His imagination was going wild. His self-control melted like the ice he’d used during the demo.

“About?” Her breathy reply and dilated pupils told him he was on the right track.

“Submission.” Her eyes fluttered closed. “Subspace.” Her tongue sneaked out to wet her lips. He leaned closer, smelling her light, fresh scent. “Us.”

Her hands pushed at his chest, but he didn’t move back. Instead, he nudged her with his hips, making his arousal more than clear. “One night. Let me play you, for real.”

“Why?” Her hands slid higher, linking around his neck. Yeah, she was interested.

“Call it professional curiosity. I want to see if today’s lesson was an anomaly, or if you are as responsive as I suspect.” He rubbed her lip with his thumb. Her tongue stroked against his skin and his breath caught. “What do you say?”

Chapter Six

This was such a bad idea, but when he touched her Cam couldn’t think. Seeing him up close, sandy hair falling over his forehead and those intense hazel eyes locked on hers, only made it harder to approach the situation with any sort of objectivity. Her hormones had cast their vote with a cheer and a race through her bloodstream, waking parts of her that, before today, had been resigned to grinning and bearing it.

She closed her eyes, hoping that blocking him out would help her evaluate his offer rationally. Instead, it only made her think of the demo earlier. She smelled him again, fresh grass and leather, comforting and arousing. Her body swayed forward, brushing against his erection.

“I’m a big baby when it comes to pain.”

“Did I hurt you earlier?”

“No, but I’m just warning you so you don’t get frustrated when I safe-word.”

He crossed his muscled arms. She missed their strength around her waist. “That’s ridiculous. They’re called
limits
for a reason—every sub has them.”

She shrugged and the blanket shifted to expose her elbow. She gathered it back around herself as anticipation beat aside her cautions. “One night?”

He nodded, never breaking eye contact.

One night. Kat seemed to trust him, and she trusted Kat. She’d get more insight into her so-called submission—and wasn’t that the whole reason she was here? And if it was just going to be more of what she’d felt earlier… “Okay,” she whispered, afraid that saying it louder would make it more real.

His hands locked around her wrists, a firm demand to pay attention. Cam opened her eyes and started to speak.

“Not yet.” He cut her off. “You’re going to agree to my rules before we make one move. Nod if you understand.”

She nodded, not taking her gaze from him.

“For this one night, you will obey me. You have your safe words—yellow and red—and we won’t do anything you haven’t already experienced so far today. We both agree this is purely educational.” Another nod. “From what you’ve told me, you’re getting over a relationship, and I certainly don’t want one.”

That would have stung if she didn’t feel the same way.

His hands loosened. Tugging her along by one wrist, he headed back onto the stage, then pointed at the massage table. “Sit.”

“I’m not a dog.”

He turned, slowly, and she knew that was not the right thing to say. She cringed, waiting for a smack in reprimand. That’s how Shawn punished her. Instead, she just got an arched eyebrow and a silent command to obey. She did, throwing in an “I’m sorry”.

“I’m sorry,
Sir
,” he corrected her. She repeated it back, but the honorific felt foreign on her tongue. It had been
Master
for so long.

She sat as he gathered up his instruments, disinfecting everything that had made contact with her skin. She appreciated his attention to detail, almost as much as the uninhibited view she got of him. He moved with animal grace, an economy of movement that only came from being supremely self-assured.

It turned her on, like everything he’d done or said so far.

His black shirt stretched across his muscled back, from broad shoulders to narrow hips, where it settled over his jeans. They cupped his ass and showed off his solid thigh muscles. She wanted to feel his legs twined with hers while he thrust into her. His erection, even through his pants, had been impressive. Cam squirmed in her seat, which did nothing to alleviate her growing feeling of emptiness. Instead, the movement stroked her clit across the seam of her pants. She swallowed a moan, not wanting Damien to know how needy she was.

Once he’d finished cleaning and packing up his supplies, he turned back to her. “Ready?” He extended a hand, waiting for her to make the final decision.

Okay, maybe he was different from Shawn. So far. It boded well for the evening, but that’s where things had to end. Her real life was fraying at the edges—she didn’t need to add a complication, especially one she’d sworn off.

Closure. Pleasure. Answers. The mantra repeated as she took his hand, letting his warmth settle into her.

“You’re in the cabin, correct?”

“Better—I’m all by myself in the only occupied cabin.” Her words ruffled the tawny hair at his temple.

“Impressive, sweetheart. How’d you swing that?” He headed for the door, pulling her along one pace behind on his right. She knew this routine, had been punished enough for not following properly.

Cam had gotten punished for a lot. Wincing at her stupidity, she again thanked Shawn for leaving. This night might even take away some of the sting from his rejection. “Kat arranged it for me. She framed it as me reviewing the new digs. I saw it more as her pat on the back for me getting kicked to the curb. But I’m not so prideful I would turn down that kind of offer.”

He squeezed her hand and her throat closed on itself. No pity from him in that squeeze, just a flashing moment of empathy.

They made the rest of the walk in silence. Cam winced at the bright outdoor light—how easy it was to forget the time of day when in the basement of Maison Domine. But Damien hotfooted it across the parking lot—she wasn’t out of doors all that long, which was good, considering her questionable state of dress. When they reached the cabin, Damien tried the knob, then put out his hand when he found it locked. She fished into her pocket and pulled out the key, which he promptly snatched from her grasp.

He swung the door open, but did not enter. Instead, turned towards her, face serious. “When you enter, strip and kneel at the end of the bed. Do you have any knee problems?”

“No…Sir.” She gave herself a mental gold star for remembering that little detail.

Hefting his bag over his shoulder, he stepped aside and let her enter, swatting her on the ass when she moved by.

At her girlish
eep
, he chuckled. She scowled and got another smack for her efforts. At least he couldn’t see the expression on her face that time.

She heard him moving around the main room and her anticipation grew with every
clink
and
click
. Losing her clothing was harder than she’d realized. No man had seen her naked—well and truly nude—in longer than she liked to admit. Even before Shawn, she hadn’t been much for intimacy. Playing a little at the clubs, sure, but not at any that allowed full nudity. Her blush spread from her cheeks downward until she knew her pale skin was going to be embarrassingly blotchy. But there was nothing to be done about it.