Chapter 8 C8

This was where he would start.

He shifted her in his arms so he could tilt her head up and look into her eyes. "I have you, Jessica," he said quietly. "Let it out."

Her emerald eyes blinked at him. She seemed almost shocked at his words -- had no one ever been there for her? -- and then tears welled anew. Her head dropped back on his shoulder, and he could feel her shudder with muffled sobs. Her choked words drifted up to him as his warmth and embrace seeped into her.

"In front of people... It hurt... Nobody ever..." Her barriers fell, and she sobbed, shaking as hard as when she'd been chilled from the rain. Sensitive little one, a sheltered little pet. It only made him want her the more.

He stroked her hair, murmured gently as she cried; he told her how brave she'd been, how wonderfully she'd apologized, how much he cherished her sharing with him. He praised her courage at trying to save the other sub, how rare it was to find someone willing to act to help another.

He told the truth. Even though she'd been wrong to break up the scene, the bravery of her actions impressed him. The facets of her personality were mesmerizing; from a spitfire to a yielding woman in his arms; from controlled and careful to passionately responsive. She delighted him.

Slowly her crying turned to jerky breaths as exhaustion overcame her.

But after all too short a time, he felt her mind turn on and start burying the pain and hurt under layers of control. Her body stiffened, no longer accepting any comfort.

"I want to leave now," she said in a hard voice.

Oh, he knew this had been coming. "The rain and wind haven't lessened, and you have no car. However, you may stay in the entryway, and no one will bother you."

Her breath hissed out, and she shoved at his arms. "Let me go."

"We will sit here until your legs work on their own. Unless you want me to carry you across the room?"

She stopped immediately. "At least put me down."

"No."

That brought her head up, her green eyes wet like a forest in the rain.

"I have never had to punish someone I just met," he said, letting his own anger show. "Discipline is a trust issue between a Dom and a sub. We do not have that trust between us. To have to perform a scene, a punishment scene like that, was extremely unpleasant. It bothered me to hurt you, Jessica," he growled. "You will let me hold you, and offer me some comfort in return."

Her eyes widened. Earlier, she had understood the damage her heedless actions had created with Master Smith and his sub. Could she grasp the discomfort she had caused him?

He could almost hear that clever mind turning over the events. This was a very smart woman.

And then she whispered, "I'm sorry" into his shirt.

"As am I," he returned evenly, not granting her the grace of forgiveness. Not just yet.

She sniffled a little, edging her way under his defenses. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just sit with me, little one," he sighed. "Until we both recover a bit. You are a comforting armful of woman, and my body likes having you against it."

With his words, her mind opened to more than any lingering pain. He could sense the way her body suddenly became aware of him again, of his hardness against her softness, of his hand stroking her hair, of his scent. Even as she relaxed, she squirmed a little to ease the pain of her sore ass. His cock reacted to the provocative movements. She had the kind of body he enjoyed most: round, soft, and abundant.

As he hardened, she froze, realizing what her movements had incited.

He chuckled, pressed his lips to the top of her head. "I want a kiss, and then I'll take you to the entryway."

"That's all?" she asked suspiciously.

His eyes narrowed, and he stroked his fingers on the underside of her breast, his thumb rubbing the nipple. Her alarm was accompanied by a flare of heat.

"Maybe I should ask for more?" he murmured.

She set her hand over his, trying to pull him away, as successful as a kitten tugging on a human's hand.

"Kiss me," he said.

With an aggrieved sigh, she tilted her head up to him.

This time he would go more slowly. He brushed her lips teasingly, like in his days in Special Ops, scoping out the terrain. Her mouth was soft with a tiny ridge in the center of the lower lip, dividing it into two tiny bottoms. He took the kiss deeper, opening her lips with his own, coaxing her into responding. Under his slow assault, her mouth softened, much like a woman's nipples after she'd come. Still deeper, he invaded her mouth, taking possession.

Her fingers tightened around his hand, so he tightened his fingers around her breast. A gasp. He read in her mind the complex roil of emotions of a woman with growing needs. Heat seared pathways from her breasts to her pussy, and when he sucked her tongue into his mouth, it upped the sensations in her body the way an elevator carries a person to the top.

When her magnificent body quivered with hunger, he drew away slowly before he could be lured into more. A promise was a promise, and she was overwhelmed already. If the chill of the entryway cooled her lust, then so be it. Of course, if her needs and thoughts drove her back into his territory... Well, his imagination had already placed her in his bed, her pussy open to his tongue, his fingers, and then his cock. He would enjoy taking her over and over until her screams of ecstasy left her limp and ready to take again.

He shook his head to ease down a little, then brushed another kiss over the mouth that was almost as sumptuous as her breasts.

"Up, little one." He pushed her to her feet, wrapped an arm around her as her knees buckled. Just to annoy her, to put strength back into her legs -- and to see if the punishment was turning to something else -- he ran his hand down her ass, squeezed each sweet cheek in turn, remembering the vivid pink that had glowed on her fair skin.

She caught her breath, and, oh, yes, another gratifying increase of heat.

"As I said, pain is a sensation very close to excitement," he murmured, still stroking her buttocks, enjoying her confusion as the soreness twisted into erotic sensation. "If I bit you there, you'd probably come."

Her back stiffened, and she tried to move away. She wasn't used to words tantalizing her desires even as his fingers did her ass.

Without saying more, although he was already thinking of what he'd be saying soon to her, what he'd say when her first wrist was shackled to his bed, he led her out to the entryway where Ben ruled in the cold and barren room.

The troll guarding the door glanced up as they entered. Sir kissed Jessica's fingertips, nipped one sharply enough to send heat into her fingers and even deeper, and left without speaking.

"Got yourself kicked out?" Ben set down his pen and pushed his papers to one side.

"I didn't want to be in there anymore." Jessica settled onto the floor in the corner farthest from the door and shifted uncomfortably. Hardwood floor, sore butt...bad combination.

He'd hit her with a paddle.

The memory of the pain entwined with the memory of Master Z's hands stroking over her bare bottom, how his fingers had touched her breasts so gently. Her hands closed into fists. What kind of person was she to be aroused by that?

"Do you do that sort of stuff?" she asked Ben, jerking her head toward the door. Not that she really wanted to talk, but her mind kept shifting to uncomfortable places, much as her butt was doing. Trying to take her mind off both, she started finger combing through the tangles in her hair.

"Nope. I'm straight vanilla sex, as they call it. Z prefers that for his guards. We don't get diverted." He fumbled in his pocket, tossed her a comb.

"Thanks." She grabbed a lock of hair to work on. "It doesn't bother you what they do in there?"

He shrugged. "World's full of variety, why not sex? Everything in there is -- what's the phrase? -- safe, sane, and consensual. Yeah. If they like a little more kink to get their rocks off, it's no business of mine." He grinned, rubbed his jaw. "My brother-in-law is from New Orleans. Doesn't like bland food. If it doesn't bite back, he'll dump pepper sauce on it. Nice guy; just has different taste buds than me."

As he turned back to his paperwork, she stared down at her hands. Different tastes. Did she have different tastes? Surely not.

Those people on the dance floor -- the ones who had excited her -- had been the two couples where the men were obviously in charge. Sir had used a word for that, but she couldn't remember what he'd said.

"What are the terms for a guy in charge and a woman obeying?" she blurted out, and reddened when his eyebrows lifted.

"You're thinking of a Dominant/submissive relationship? Dom/sub. If the dominant is a man, he'll usually be referred to as Master or Sir or anything else he chooses." Ben's lips curled up. "His sub sure isn't going to contradict him, right?"

The smack of the paddle rang in her ears. "Uh, no. Where does slave come into it?"

"More often that's a person in a life relationship, where the Dom/sub stuff isn't confined to the bedroom. There's some couples here like that, but for lots of people it's only for sex or playtime."