Submissive's Journey (Masters of Blackstone Book 1), page 15
She wrapped around him, holding tight. He started finger fucking her. Nice and slow. Growling, she humped his hand, her needy pussy sucking at his fingers, demanding more. Animalistic sounds forming in her throat and he stroked harder. Faster. Deeper. Hoping to god he wasn’t injuring her.
She screamed in ecstasy and he felt her pussy clench down on his fingers. Her softness rippled around his fingers as her orgasm rolled through her again and again. She sighed, a look of peace settled over her features.
Everett chuckled as she draped around him, seeming replete. He hugged the soft, limp woman in his arms and realized she was crying softly. He kissed her temple, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, Sir, so good.” Julia lowered her gaze and blushed a deep rose, then laid her head on his shoulder and started giggling. She kept surprising him. How could she be so embarrassed having the experience he knew she possessed?
Sensing her vulnerability, he commanded as gently as he dared, “Never, ever prostrate yourself like that before me in a public space again, Julia.”
Her eyes flew open and he saw her immediate fear. It was like cold water splashed in his face, cooling his ardor. Thankfully, he hadn’t done anything he’d regret too badly in the morning. “I’m sorry, Everett.”
“Again you apologize, Julia. Why?”
“I haven’t pleased you yet. Dominants come first. Dominants always come first. I have a bad, greedy pussy, but Jasper straightened me out. My body must have forgotten. I won’t come again without permission.” She continued to writhe beneath his touch because his fingers hadn’t stopped moving. He added a second finger inside her. “Oh God, maybe less touchy-touchy from you though. Please, Sir. Let me prove myself!”
“I will never require you to ask permission to come, love. I expect you to surrender to me your every response—every moan, sigh, or shudder when waves of ecstasy wash over you—immediately. Don’t hold back anything, Julia; whether your screams are from pleasure or pain, just give all to me.”
Everett closed his eyes, reining in his own need. He was a man ruled by self-control.
He met her gaze and held it as he withdrew his hands and licked his fingers clean. “You taste good, little dragon. Thank you for the gift of your orgasm.”
Blushing, she hid her face in shadow as he lowered her to the ground and he wondered at her shyness. He eased her down and adjusted her clothing. “Good end to the evening, little dragon?”
Julia nodded and smiled but her eyes were still wide and when he opened the car door for her. He saw she was shaking badly. “Are you still afraid of me, Julia?”
“No.”
“You’re shaking, a lot.”
“Adrenaline, maybe.” She scooted into the passenger seat. Everett buckled her seatbelt and felt her surprise when he pressed his lips over hers in a gentle kiss. He tried for a teasing kiss designed to leave her wanting more than she ever realized was possible, but he didn’t know if he’d hit his mark until she moaned into his mouth. Releasing her lips, his bare hands cupped around her chin to hold her face toward his. He smiled at her. “I should be striping that sexy little ass of yours with a cane for all the curse words tonight, not rewarding you with orgasms.”
Her lips twisted into an amused smirk. “I can pretend I didn’t enjoy it, Sir.”
Everett snorted. “You might want to use this moment as an opportunity to thank me for my leniency.”
“Thank you for not caning me tonight, Sir.”
He stroked her cheek and was pleased when she leaned into his touch. He warned firmly, “I really want to get to know the girl who doesn’t hide behind angry, ugly words; but you should know, I rarely ever give second chances. What’s your next move if I drive you home and walk away?”
Julia tried to pull away but he held her firmly.
“What’s your next move?” he repeated.
“Beg you not to walk away. Beg you for a second chance. It’s the only move I have left. I need a dominant in my life. I’m dying slowly alone.”
“I want to help you discover the roots of your rage, so you can free the pain trapped inside your chest”—he touched two fingers to her sternum and her gaze dropped to see them—“and inside your guts”—her gaze followed his hand as he slid his fingers down her stomach to press gently into her low belly. Her shudder told him he’d hit the center of her need. She met his gaze as he lifted his hand to tap her temple—“and inside your mind.”
Julia sucked her bottom lip into her mouth but immediately released it.
“Instead of hiding from your pain, I want you to fully experience it.”
She swallowed hard. “No disrespect, but I am pretty sure I’ve experienced enough pain to last me awhile, Sir.”
“There is a raging battle going on deep inside you, little dragon.”
Her right eye started twitching.
“Mentally and emotionally, you’re a wreck. I’m asking you to face it. Embrace it. Make love to it, and when you are really ready to release it—let it go—so you never have to feel it again.”
Julia chuckled bitterly, which might have convinced him he couldn’t help her—if she hadn’t wore her desperation so openly on her face. Her eyes begged for him to give her a chance while her mouth argued, “Sounds like the set up for an impossible task, Sir.”
“Only if you make it impossible, Julia. Trust me. I can help you.” Everett winked at her. “Meet me for dinner tomorrow night?”
“I have to wait until then?” she pouted, adding hopefully, “If it’s already a level three snow emergency, it will definitely be a snow day tomorrow. I won’t have to be awake early, so I could stay out later tonight. Or I could invite you in for a while?”
“Brave words for a woman who has no idea what I have planned for her.”
Startled, she leaned back but he held her face still and close. Her breath started coming in short pants. “Do you want me afraid?”
“Do you need to fear me to obey me?”
JULIA SHOOK HER head no, but she wanted to scream yes. She bit her bottom lip, remembering how she’d cowered from Jasper…and the others, the phantom men who haunted her nightmares…but whose faces and crimes never surfaced with wakefulness.
“Good, because I want you to respect my power, just as I respect yours. I want you to know going in you may not like the results of being mine. I am a very exacting Master, Julia, and I don’t think you have ever experienced what I have planned for you. Think long and hard tonight about whether you are ready to meet me.”
He held out a business card from the Cincinnatian Hotel Downtown.
Before she took possession, he turned it over for her, ensuring she saw his suite number written on the back, then he closed the car door and she was left waiting for him to join her in the car. Her teeth were chattering by the time he did. Cold, shock, terror, did the cause really matter?
The ride was oddly quiet, after sharing so much in the diner.
She felt guilty merely sitting in a car with another dominant, feeling she was cheating on Master. She wanted to ask him how she was supposed to let go of her guilt so she could enjoy him, because despite her evening’s earlier bravado and hard claims she would get laid before the night was over, now that the opportunity presented itself, she didn’t think she’d ever be able to go through with it.
She quaked the entire trip to her little house in the suburbs twenty minutes outside of downtown, even though he turned the heat on full blast. Along the way, the car radio announced there was indeed a snow emergency and all public schools were closed. Yay for me, a snow day.
He pulled into her driveway, parked, and turned off the engine.
“I would like to see you tomorrow, Sir.”
Wordlessly, he nodded then walked around the vehicle. He opened the door for her and he helped her out of the SUV. Holding her elbow as if she was a little old woman, he walked her up the icy sidewalk to the front door. She was glad because her knees were wobbly and she wasn’t sure she’d have gotten to her door without a tumble without him. He turned her to face him and stroked her cheeks. He studied her face as if he were memorizing it. “Why do you believe you are undeserving of love, Julia?”
Crestfallen, she whispered, “I’m not a very good person.”
“Boloney.”
Julia covered her mouth with her fingertips to hide her giggle. Everett challenged, “You think I’m funny?”
“Most people would say bullshit, or some variation of, Sir.”
“Some men might, I don’t. Be very glad I am becoming addicted to the sweet sound of your laughter. I’m certain, it’s a learned mannerism that saved you from getting a warmed bottom in the past, but such maneuvers won’t work on me. So don’t count on your adorableness saving you often.”
Julia turned toward the door, fighting against the push of dark thoughts…
Whore, slut, cunt. You are lower to me than the dirt on my boots. You deserve nothing. You are here to answer my every desire. You will learn to recognize my every need before I even consider it. Every minute you are not in chains is a reward for the pleasure you’ve given me and the ease of my day, for every moment of failure you will suffer.
She battled the shakes as she aimed and re-aimed the key toward the deadbolt lock. Everett finally took the keys, unlocked the door, and pushed it open. She couldn’t meet his gaze and so focused on the toes of her boots. “I can assure you that being beautiful never protected me from painful recrimination, Sir.”
He wasn’t wearing his heavy winter coat and hers was open, so when he pulled her against him she felt his hard cock pressed between them. He kissed her, his lips proving they were more than capable of dominating hers. He stole her breath and weakened her knees. She could feel her juices flowing freely between her legs. Sex was definitely part of the night’s equation and she couldn’t wait.
“I don’t know where that mind of yours takes you, but if I have to keep you gasping with pleasure twenty-four seven to starve that dark place out of you with lack of attention, I will.” Everett searched her eyes, then lowered his lips to overwhelm her senses again.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she tangled her fingers into his hair, and tried to urge him through the threshold without breaking contact. It looked so effortless in the movies. Funny thing, her not quite five foot seven body couldn’t force his six foot plus frame through the doorway and into the house if their lives depended on her to do so. He lifted her easily, and traded places with her by setting her down inside the foyer. “Take a hot bath and go straight to bed.”
She blinked. What’s happening? “You don’t want to come in?”
He brushed a soft kiss over her forehead, and then pulled the door closed. Just before it clicked, he pushed it open enough to meet her gaze. “I’ll send a taxi early enough for you to arrive at my room by noon. Don’t be late.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The door clicked closed and she fell back against it to keep from dropping to her knees. His voice boomed from the other side. “Turn the deadbolt, Julia.”
She obeyed then leaned into the door, shaking uncontrollably.
“Julia?” His voice came softly through the closed door.
She whispered, “Yes, Sir?” Then, realizing he didn’t hear her, repeat herself, louder, making sure he heard.
“Don’t pleasure yourself between now and then. Understood?”
Her breath caught, realizing by his command and soft chuckle he had indeed noticed her scent on her fingertips. She felt herself blush hotly. Thank god he couldn’t see her utter mortification. She tried to form the word, “yes,” but her heart was thudding so hard against her lungs and ribs she found it hard to keep standing, let alone speak. Hearing his boots crunching a path through the snow and away from her door she sighed with relief, then rummaged her phone from her bag to speed-dial Maxwell. Only belatedly did she see that the illuminated clock dial read a little after midnight. Knowing they were both early risers, she knew her call would awaken him and probably Trevor as well. She really didn't care if I she was interrupting their beauty sleep. This was their fault! “How long have you known him?”
“Things went well?”
Trevor. It was a mental whiplash. She was so used to Maxwell taking charge of the calls it was strange to have Trevor on the phone. Fuck. Maxwell’s still mad.
“For future reference if you’re going to introduce me to someone, I need a little more advice than mind my mouth.”
“Did you?”
“I tried,” she answered and her tone held all the guilt she refused to acknowledge. “No, I won’t lie to you. I didn’t try at all.”
“God, why?”
“I wanted to know how he’d react to me. Everett Hawthorne’s intense.”
“Scary, isn't he?” Trevor demanded and the quality of sound told her Maxwell’s phone had been switched to speaker. So he wasn’t willing to talk to her but he’d listen to every word she said to Trevor? No, I don’t think so. “Maxwell? Talk to me!”
Maxwell stated firmly, “You called to find out about Everett. He is a very careful and respected dominant. Over the years I’ve discovered him to be a most honorable man, always first and foremost a gentleman. If I didn't believe you'd be safe, I wouldn't have introduced you to him.”
“Good to know because I’m meeting him tomorrow—at his hotel room.”
“He would never betray a lover’s confidence and he would expect the same loyalty. Trevor was out of line asking intimate questions.” Maxwell calmly encouraged, “I hope you will choose to meet him. You’ve waited long enough. Just because you are meeting at his hotel room does not commit you to having sex with him. You always have a choice. I love you, Julia, you’re the closest thing Trevor and I will ever have to a daughter of our own. I trust him. Go for it, sweetheart. You need a master like Everett; you’ve gotten too fucking Sammy for your own good.”
“That's me, smart-assed masochist,” she agreed sarcastically.
“Not for much longer, baby girl.” Trevor chortled.
Maxwell requested firmly, “Please make future calls between the hours of ten am and ten pm. Good night Julia”
Click
“Whoa. Frost treatment. I guess he isn’t going to get over being mad any time soon.”
She wasn’t impressed with his assessment of the situation or the fact she had no more information about the man than before she called. She wanted to call back but knew she wasn’t going to get anything from Maxwell or Trevor. Instead, she went into her bedroom, got ready for bed and pulled her tablet from one of her nightstand drawers. She started searching for Everett Hawthorne, then when she got no more than some society page hits that only clued her in on the fact that he was wealthy, single, an honest business man, and had a good reputation as an architect and builder. All of which she could have guessed.
She searched Lord Draco. Bingo!
She opened a video and within seconds her jawed dropped, but there wasn’t a thing to be done about that. “Oooh, my lord.”
She blinked, taking in the beauty of the man. “Lord Draco. Dragon. Wow.”
She watched as he tied beautifully perfect knots, his muscles bunching and releasing under stunningly inked skin. So much ink. Working bare chested in many of the videos, she’d been able to look closely at the full sleeve tattoo on his right arm. A grayscale dragon spiraled from shoulder to wrist; however the negative space was filled with deep red lotus flowers with yellow centers. As he turned she paused the video and leaned closer to the screen to take in his full back piece, which combined a phoenix, water, and a second dragon’s head with a section of scaled body in a continuation of the grayscale theme. Here again, only vibrant reds infused the negative space with more lotus blossoms.
The next video, she paused long enough to find her earbuds so she could hear every word Everett uttered. She loved the darkly seductive lilt of his accent. Whenever he was interacting with the submissive in his rope, it would take on a deep, growly intonation that shot straight to her pussy.
She watched as he looped and twisted the rope around the woman’s breasts, imagining how his hands felt on her skin. She was such a masochist, watching video after video, which only served to leave her aching, wanting, and desperate for Everett’s touch when she finally tried to sleep. Mind spinning, she laid awake, replaying Everett's every word, every innocent caress and indecent innuendo until finally, she passed out just before dawn.
♥ ♥ ♥
“I can’t do this.” After three attempts at false lashes with shaking hands, she gave up. Her bathroom mirror was horribly honest, revealing bloodshot eyes and exhaustion. She barely managed to apply mascara and kept the rest of her makeup minimal to radiate a more natural glow—not that it was helping—then faced the disaster of her hair, straightener in one hand, curling iron in the other. She was kidding herself if she believed either was going to help. Tossing both aside, she grabbed a jar of sculpting goop and rubbed a small bit in her hands. Bending over, she pushed her hands through her hair and before giving the tresses a good toss. Jerking up, she looked and held her breath. She looked at her reflection. Whatthefuckever. Why had joining Everett at his hotel room seemed like such a good idea when he’d left her at the door?
“God!” Digging through her lingerie drawer she chose a lace and silk white bra, garter belt, and tap pant set, while trying to ignore her collar and leather-bound journal Jasper presented her just before he died. Both were displayed on top of her black lacquer negligée cabinet.
“Write it down,” he’d commanded, and she’d refused. She couldn’t possibly write down what they’d shared, what she’d felt…
He’d said, “It will be the proof you need some day that it all happened.”
And suddenly, now, facing with meeting with a total stranger…she wanted proof, needed proof what she had with Jasper had been real. “He loved me.”
She reverently picked up her collar and set it to the side, then lifted the journal. On the first page, scrawled in Jasper’s neat flourish were the words: To My Beloved.
