Controlling Interest (9 page)

“I’ll volunteer to be your first sacrificial lamb, Miss
Mouse. I’d be happy to teach a class.”

Tor winced when Drago turned his dark eyes toward him. The
censure in Drago’s gaze hit Tor in the gut. The two men had been friends for
years, so disapproval and disappointment from his friend struck Tor hard. He
cleared his throat, opening his mouth to speak, but Mouse got in first.

“That would be awesome,” Mouse enthused, setting her hand on
Drago’s muscular forearm. Tor clenched his fists at his side.

“And are you going to be his bottom for this class?” Tor
didn’t recognize his own voice as jealousy ripped through his gut like a
poisoned arrow.

She blinked and looked up at Drago, a little afraid. The two
of them had made peace when Mouse had apologized after almost interrupting his
scene, but Tor knew the big man still scared her a little. Mouse swallowed
hard.

“I guess so,” she squeaked. Her eyes flashed up to Drago.
Tor came damn close to shouting
no
at the top of his lungs, but he
didn’t. “Unless Master Drago would rather work with someone else, and I’d
understand completely.” Mouse finished rapidly, color staining her cheeks.

Drago studied him for a minute or two, and he gave Tor a
grim smile before turning back to Mouse. “Miss Mouse, I’d be honored to be the
first Dom to lead you through a public scene if you trust me enough.”

She smiled shyly at Drago. “I do. Thanks.”

Mouse turned a triumphant smile on Tor, and he wanted to kill
them both. He’d never learned to share what belonged to him, and Mouse was his.
Damn it—she was
his
. The idea of Drago training her in any way, shape or
form was impossible, but he didn’t have a choice. He’d all but dared her to do
this and now that he’d made his bed he’d have to fucking lie in it—even if it
was filled with glass.

* * * * *

“It’s time, Miss Mouse,” one of the staff called through her
office door.

She shivered—torn between terror and determination. Drago
had been great helping her to plan this class, but he still intimidated her. He
was just so big…six foot four and ripped muscles from top to bottom. Of course
he wasn’t all bulked up like Arnold Schwarzenegger, but he still felt massive
to her. Maybe it was just his presence that filled the space wherever he was.
Maybe it was the dark hair and unfathomable dark eyes. Whatever it was, she
didn’t
quite
trust him. Didn’t
quite
feel safe. Yet she knew he
would never hurt her. Knew it gut-deep. So what the hell was her problem? Her
problem was that she’d rather have Tor. She sighed.

Not only that, but she was scared. Scared of Drago. Scared
of putting herself out in public. But Tor had thrown down the challenge and she
was damned if she wouldn’t face him down. She straightened and marched to the
door as if she were headed for her own firing squad. Scared or not, she
would
do this.

* * * * *

Tor tensed when Mouse appeared. He’d been hoping…praying
that she would cancel. He didn’t want to watch her with Drago, but he had no
intention of leaving. He wasn’t completely certain that she could handle the
stern man, and Masters rarely let their submissive play with someone without
supervising, at least this one didn’t. Although he hadn’t admitted it to her,
Tor felt as if he were Mouse’s Master.

She strode forward to stand beside Drago. Gingerly, she
knelt on the pillow he’d placed by his feet and bowed her head. The big man
caressed her hair, which hung loose and wild, then he met Tor’s gaze. When Tor
just matched his stare, Drago nodded once and began the class.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome. Tonight’s class will
cover introducing a novice to the BDSM lifestyle and public scenes. I am Master
Drago and my submissive this evening is Mouse.” He eyed the audience. “She is
new to this lifestyle and newbie submissives need to be protected by those of
us with experience. Teaching you about that will be one of the goals of this
class.”

As Drago continued to outline the goals of the class, the
females in the audience—and a few males—sighed as he spoke. If Mouse weren’t
involved, Tor would grin at the way his friend could sway his audience using
only his deep voice. But Tor’s concern right now was Mouse and she looked
tense.

His gut tightened when she looked up once to meet his gaze
before quickly looking back at Drago’s feet. Fear. He saw fear in her eyes. It
tore him up because this whole damn thing was his fault, but unless she safe
worded, he couldn’t intervene. God damn it.

Tor barely heard Drago’s words as he watched the scene
unfold because his attention was devoted entirely to Mouse. When her ass was
shown off to the crowd so Drago could explain where it was appropriate to
deliver blows and where it wasn’t, Mouse went a brilliant red.

He loved her ass, but he knew she had some body image
issues, so this had to be torture for her. Tor was torn between admiration for
her strong spirit and a desire to cover her until she was truly ready for this
kind of play. Drago assisted her onto a spanking bench and bound her then set
his hand on the small of her back. She flinched. Her buttocks clenched in
anticipation of blows soon to be delivered as the Dominant described proper
spanking technique before delivering blows to her ass. She jumped with every
blow but remained silent.

Shit, this wasn’t right. With him, she’d relaxed into the
spanking and eventually lifted her ass for more. With Drago, nothing. She just
knelt on the padded bench…waiting. Why the hell didn’t she safe word? When the
master picked up a large leather paddle, Tor’s gut tightened. She couldn’t handle
that. Not now. Her endorphins hadn’t kicked in and she wasn’t enjoying this at
all. Fuck.

As Drago drew back, the world seemed to flow into slow
motion. He saw the paddle swing forward to connect with Mouse’s quivering
buttocks, and for the first time since this started, she made a noise.

“Oh God,” she squeaked.

Tor closed his eyes briefly, opening them when Drago asked,
“Are you all right, Mouse?” She nodded vigorously. “Are you ready to continue?”
Again she nodded.

Another blow fell. Another gasping squeak. Again Drago
checked on her and had her consent to continue. Tor grabbed the chair he leaned
against, but holding onto it wasn’t enough truly to anchor him because he
desperately wanted to stop this. But it was
her
choice. Submissives gave
their trust and consent to a top, and Mouse indicated she wanted to continue.
Another blow. This time he heard a sob. Shit.

Safe word, Mouse. Please, honey. It’s okay.
He wished
he had the right—the privilege—to protect her. Wished he hadn’t been such a
fucking asshole two months ago. She lifted her head and her hair fell away from
her red, tear-streaked face. Her eyes destroyed him. Accused him. She glared at
him as if to say
See? I can do this! I’m worthy, you son of a bitch.

Clarity struck him straight in the chest. She was doing this
solely to prove him wrong, and that was a bullshit lousy reason to let someone
beat her ass. Not when she wasn’t into it. Another blow fell against her ass
and she continued to glare at him as the tears streaked her face and she bit her
lip to endure the pain.

Tor knew that nothing would induce her to stop now. She
wouldn’t safe word even if Drago took a whip to her. He might not have the
right as her Master to stop this, but as a dungeon monitor he fucking did and
this was done. Right now.

As the next blow fell, he stepped in front of it, taking it
in the gut. Drago raised his brows and straightened.

“Would you care to explain why you disrupted a scene between
a Dominant and a submissive? You know that’s against the rules.”

Tor took a deep breath. He set his hand gently at the base
of her spine and she relaxed for the first time since she’d marched out here.
“This submissive is refusing to safe word and it’s my fault.”

“You think she’d safe word if you weren’t here?”

“Yes. She’s not into this at all. You can see the tension in
every line of her body.”

“Are you suggesting I’m abusing her without her consent?”

“No. You have her consent, but she doesn’t know what she’s
doing right now.”

“She’s not in subspace, so she’s completely cognizant of her
surroundings.”

“I agree that she’s not in subspace, but her reasoning is
gone because she’s out to prove she can endure this.”

“Prove it to whom?”

“Me. ’Cause I’ve been a fucking asshole. I’m stopping this
now.”

“By what authority?”

“First as dungeon monitor…” He paused and looked at Mouse’s
red ass. He brought her skirt down to cover her butt. “And second as her
Master.
If
she’ll have me.”

Drago’s brows rose, but he smiled slightly. “I recognize
your authority…in
both
roles. Let’s cut her loose.”

The crowd began to murmur, moving around as if to break up.
Drago stood, glaring at them all and they froze. “This class is
not
finished. Remain seated while we take care of Miss Mouse.”

Tor released her hands while Drago took care of her feet.
Tor helped her stand and she almost fell, leaning heavily on him. He pulled her
close as Drago wrapped a soft blanket around her then Tor led her away.

Mouse leaned against Tor and sighed as he helped her walk
away from the public play area.

“I could have done it,” she whispered.

“You did it, Mouse,” he murmured in her ear. “And you don’t
have to prove anything to me. I’m sorry I made you think you did.”

She glanced up at him as he helped her into his office and
shut the door. He looked grim. Had she pissed him off…again? He tugged her
gently toward a low, white leather couch that ran the length of one wall of his
office. He eased her down onto the sofa, but the minute her butt hit the
leather she whimpered and struggled to her feet. He frowned.

“What?” he asked. She grimaced and he nodded, his expression
lightening somewhat. “It hurts too much to sit?” She nodded, rubbing her sore
ass. “C’mon over here.” He waved her over to his desk. He reached into his
drawer.

“No more paddling please.”

“None planned.” He pulled out a tube of something. “This
should take some of the sting out. Bend over, honey.”

Mouse bent over and put her hands on his desk for balance.
He walked behind her and flipped up her skirt. She stood, whipping her skirt
back down. Tor raised his brows.

“Honey, your gorgeous ass was just on display to nearly all
our members and I was there. Remember? I’ve seen your ass before.” He leaned
forward to kiss the tip of her nose. “Hell, I spanked it not that long ago.”

Her face heated. “I know, but…”

“Let me take care of you.” He cupped her face in his big
hands. “Please, Mouse.”

She took a deep breath, reading his expression. The entreaty
in his eyes made her blink back tears and she nodded.

“Turn around and bend over again then I’ll rub some of this
on you. It should help ease the pain.”

She obeyed, wincing when he lifted her skirt. He gently
slathered ointment on her butt cheeks. First it was cool, and then the sting
started to numb out. She sighed with relief.

“Why didn’t you safe word?”

She frowned and remained silent while he continued gently to
massage the ointment over her ass. Damn, even with the numbing effect of the
lotion, her pussy began to respond to his touch. Shit. Why did it always happen
anytime they were in proximity? It wasn’t fair.

“
Mouse
…”

“I don’t owe you any explanations.”

“That’s open to debate. But rather than declaring war on one
another, I’m asking and I’d really like an answer.”

She sighed and stood up, turning to face him. Mouse lifted
her chin to glare up at him. “Because I wanted you to know I could do it.
Okay?”

“It’s not okay because I never want you to feel like you
have to prove anything to me. I believe in you. Even when you piss me the hell
off.”

“You do?” She turned her gaze back to his.

“Yes, I do.”

He closed the distance between them, pulling her into his
arms, a warm and tender expression on his face. Mouse had caught the expression
a couple of times during Regine’s last days. When he wasn’t on guard. When he
thought no one was looking. The look was love. He couldn’t be looking at
her
like that.

“I’ve spent the last two months behaving like a bastard.”

“Yes, you have.”

He laughed at her quick agreement then grew serious again.
“Did you ever wonder why?”

She shrugged. “I challenged you about how to run this club.”

“Nope. None of that mattered to me, honey. Well,” he paused,
“at first it did. But not later. I acted like an ass because you hurt me and I
refused to tell you.”

“Hurt you? How did I do that?”

“Because if I hadn’t guessed that we’d been lovers, you
never would have told me.”

“I figured you’d prefer it that way.”

“Well, you were wrong.”

He dipped his head and gently took her mouth with his. Her
arms snaked up along his shoulders and her fingers curled into his thick ginger
hair. Their tongues twined together. Learning each other as they hadn’t done
two months ago. She loved the way he delved into her as if he owned her. As if
he never wanted to let her go. When he lifted his head, she clung to him and
Tor smiled.

“I like that.”

“What?”

“That you don’t want to let me go because I feel the same
way.” He traced his fingertips across her brow and over her cheek.

“You do?” She closed her eyes when her voice came out in a
squeak.

“Yes. And, damn, I love that little squeak.” She chuckled,
dropping her gaze from his. “Would you come home with me tonight, Mouse?”

“You mean like…sleeping over?”

“No, not sleeping over because we won’t be making popcorn
and watching movies.”