Dom Vs: Domme: The Deluxe Trilogy: A Billionaire Romance (Dom Vs. Domme Book 0) (61 page)

“I go by Nova, ma’am.”

Everyone has a code name in this damned place. “All right, Nova, mind if I ask you a few questions about… what you do?”

She raises a sculpted eyebrow. “Ma’am?”

“Not your job. No, not like that.” Most of the young female subs in here don’t have careers, unless they’re aspiring actresses or singers.
Most
of them are looking for some sugar on the side as they go through college or struggle through God knows how many shitty part-time jobs. I don’t envy them. I never have. “I meant being a sub.”

Nova isn’t responding. I think she may be on the verge of getting up and leaving me with an untouched drink.

“Go on, ma’am.”

Well, then.

“How long have you been doing this?”

She pokes a finger beneath her chin and looks the other way, adding up time in her head. She’s a cute little sub, I’ll give her that. Petite. Perky. Big, round lips most men would go crazy for. I’m sure Ian would get a kick out of her for a night.

“About two years, ma’am.”

“Why do you like it?”

I can tell she’s confused, but thus far she’s not asking any questions. “I don’t know…”

“Do you lifestyle?”

She shrugs. Her sheer, pink lingerie shuffles along her breasts and stomach, but does not accidentally show me her goods. I can see those nipples really well, though. “Depends on the Dom, ma’am. Some of them are fun for a night, but after that it’s only for the sex. Others make me want to serve them all day. I don’t have a preference. Every relationship is different.”

I nod. Good. That’s what I wanted to hear. “So you would confidently say that you enjoy being a sub, possibly in a lifestyle sense?”

“Sure.”

She doesn’t know where I’m going with this. I barely know where I’m going with this. There are things I want to
know,
for sure, but it’s not exactly kosher for strangers to ask each other these things. If I’m not delicate, Nova might bail on me. I wouldn’t blame her.

“Could you tell me… what you find so appealing about it? Submitting to and serving Doms, that is.”

We’ve reached an impasse. Nova doesn’t know me from Eve, and yet here I am, in a BDSM sex club acting like I’m a college reporter doing an exposé on seedy lifestyles and how it relates to feminism.

Gradually, I get Nova to open up. She takes a steady sip from her drink and keeps her eyes on her lap as she answers.

Fun. Thrills. Self-empowerment. I expected to hear those words, so I ask for more information. I’m hoping she has a good vocabulary.

“All I can say, ma’am, is that there’s nothing like it in the world. I can understand how it’s strange to other women. We hear that we shouldn’t let men treat us like that, and yet it’s so ingrained in our society that it feels perfectly natural, totally safe to do it. Especially with powerful men like the ones here. They can take care of you. They give you an escape from reality. In turn, you give them one too.”

You give them one too?

“How so?”

Nova cocks her head as if I’m the stupidest woman she’s encountered in a long time. “Don’t you see? Women like me are an escape for Doms. We give them everything they want emotionally. They don’t get that outside of places like this, no matter how successful they are at business. Sure, they have a ton of money. Sure, they can have sex with a lot of other women who aren’t into kink, but what does it mean? It’s fun for a while, but it quickly loses its luster. They need more emotion. Maybe not love, but they need to feel like the center of
someone’s
universe.”

It’s compelling, but it’s not helping any of her points.

“I think I get what you mean,” I say after a few moments of contemplation. For so long I assumed the men in my life – men like my father and Ian – didn’t have to want for anything. Yeah, they had to
work.
Even we billionaires fucking work to keep things that way. Wanting for things? If a relationship isn’t working, it’s not hard to find a new one. You can move at a drop of the hat. Go on vacation on the other side of the world. Buy the latest gadgets and games and gizmos to keep you amused.

Hell, you can buy whatever sex you want.

Of course, I know that it can feel hollow if you don’t have anyone, such as a lover or other family, to share it with, but I’m a woman. Everything’s tinted by my disadvantages, even in this world. I’ve always assumed men live the high life outside of work.

Perhaps not.

“So what makes it so great for you?” I ask Nova. “What do you gain from a random hookup in a place like this?” Besides free drinks and perhaps a getaway weekend with all expenses paid and a few gifts like designer clothes and a charitable gift into a bank account.

“Well, there’s the sex.”

Thanks, Nova.

“Except it’s not about rough, possessive sex with a guy who looks great and smells good. It’s the release he gives you. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

Nova is losing interest in me. I can tell because there’s some stud in a suit making eyes at her from across the room. Never seen him before. Probably here on business from out of town. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Tanned. The kind of guy you expect to hear a sexy accent from. He nurses a hard drink and won’t remove his gaze from Nova’s curls and tiny, pebble-like nipples poking through her lingerie.

“For the love of God, go get some dick.”

I finish Nova’s drink for her after she leaves, slinking her way to her rich stud of a Dom. I watch them out of the corner of my eye. The guy is staring at her tits and ass, but he’s also listening to her soft words, waiting for permission to touch her, The moment he does, Nova sighs into his gentle embrace, and just like that, these two are paired off for the evening.

That happened faster than junk at regular nightclubs.

Just my luck, I soon see the studly Dom take his new prize to a dark corner, lift her against the wall, pull aside her thong, and start fucking her without a care for who’s watching – like me.

I don’t feel like a perv in places like these. Half the room is covertly watching them, some men leaning in to whisper into women’s ears and vice versa. Some lucky schmuck starts getting a handy-j beneath a table. More than one couple is making out as this party gets going.

Nova is a woman living in ecstasy. She met this guy fifteen minutes ago, but he’s already inside her, thrusting like a maniac between her legs and whispering into her ear. Her fingers curl against the back of his suit, wrinkling it, trying to tear it apart before he can get away from her.

It makes me think about Ian, about the times he slammed me against a wall and had his way with me. Is that what we looked like? Was I that… relenting?

Back then, did I want this from him?

Why do I want it now?

I almost text him and ask him to join me here. Even if we don’t have sex in front of people – which I’m not into – it might be nice to see how he reacts to the people around us, but I don’t text him. I don’t even entertain going over to his place to see if he’s available for cuddles and sex. I know it’s a bad idea when I’m in this state.

There will be plenty of time for that bullshit when I willingly let myself be collared for three whole days, starting Wednesday night.

I guess I’ll find out if I really do understand where women like Nova are coming from.

Chapter 6

IAN

God help me, I’m more excited than a boy leaning how to drive or going to his first rock concert.

More excited than a boy stealing his dad’s car and winging how to drive so he can sneak off to his first rock concert. Not that I know anything about that…

You see, it’s Wednesday. The day Katie is going to put on her collar and not take it off for a whole three days. Her body won’t be the only thing that’s mine. She’ll do anything I command – within reason – learning how to serve as well as submit.

Not just sexually.

Beyond sexually.

As I’ve told you before, I don’t think much about living the BDSM life full time. I know plenty of couples who do that and are very happy. I’ve said before that I think it could be draining and even limiting – from
my
end. That’s why I think three days is a good limit. Katie can handle three days, and that’s probably about as long as I can handle too.

Fuck I’m excited!

I haven’t seen her all day. She’s working, but she’s taking care of certain matters on the other side of town while I continue to oversee the remodel at The Grand. I won’t see her until after dinner. She’s coming to my place with an overnight bag full of day clothes and a few other things I’ve asked her to bring.

I mailed her the collar, requesting she show up wearing it. Any inhibitions needed to be dealt with before she arrived. And yes, she had a few. During a phone call last night she requested that I give her an hour or two a day to take off her collar and recharge. I was glad she had that kind of foresight. It’s important she take care of herself like that.

It makes me even more excited. You have
no idea.

Dinner is take-out again. Valerie joins me in my kitchen, where we discuss her family life and talk briefly about mine. I haven’t told anyone about Kathryn, although I think my assistant suspects it. She’s quick like that.

“That Kathryn Alison sure gives you a run for your money,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. “That kind of woman could be good for you.”

Don’t I know it.

Valerie leaves a half hour before Kathryn is due to arrive. I do some light cleaning, as I always do before my Katie is scheduled to come to me for more than work chat. Far from the first time, and don’t get me wrong… I love dimming the lights, lighting a few scented candles, and straightening up my couch to get ready for some serious boyfriend-girlfriend stuff.

Are we boyfriend and girlfriend? I suppose.

The doorbell rings right at eight. I put on a spritz of cologne, enough for Kathryn to notice, and go to answer the door.

I’m not disappointed.

She’s dressed as I requested, in a T-shirt and cotton shorts, her strappy sandals cute and her ponytail youthful. I’m sure she felt silly going between her apartment and my condo in that.

What gets me, however, is the collar twinkling around her throat. The moment I see it, I have to contain what I’ve got going on in my pants. No sense losing it all right now. I’m a bit… sore about that sort of thing.

Especially around Kathryn Alison, collared or not.

“Katie,” I say, opening my door so she can come in. “Good to see you.” She drags in her overnight bag and waits for me in the living room. “Did you bring everything you need?”

Silence spreads between us. Silence, aside from the cat yowling in the corner of the room because there’s a damned visitor. We both look at Saoirse, who quickly realizes she’s not going to get the due attention she thinks she deserves and saunters into the library.

The silence continues.

The corner of Kathryn’s mouth twitches. Starting three or so weeks ago, she readily put on the collar and played out a scene for an hour or two. I’m asking for a lot more now. We’re going to be having a full scene for the next three days. So now I get to see that hint of rebellion in her face again.

I love it. Never before have I had a sub who resisted me so much at times. Not that I
want
her to actually resist me. That’s not a good sign of a woman enjoying herself – not unless she gets off on that kind of behavior. Those women are rare, in my experience, and Katie is certainly not one of them.

Our eyes lock from across the room. She’s dressed like a petulant girl, but I know that her heart beats with purpose and her mind is ticking away, thinking about everything I could possibly do to her – to humiliate her.

I want to assure everyone that I am not into
humiliation,
per se. I don’t get off on lowering women in status and watching them struggle for their bearings. It’s one thing to challenge a sub’s way of thinking, to open her mind to a new world of endless, sexual possibilities. It’s quite another to make her feel embarrassed and hate herself.

There’s no good in that.

I like to think that by this point Kathryn knows I’m not like that. I’m not going to debase her for my amusement. I’m not going to ask more from her than I know she can handle. Sure, I may overestimate her current mental abilities, but I would never,
ever
make her negatively uncomfortable on purpose. I want her to enjoy these next three days. It will be a bit rough at first, sure, but eventually…

Eventually she’ll find the joy in it.

“I brought everything… sir.”

What a bite.

“Good. You can put your bag in the bedroom. Did you eat dinner?”

She picks up her overnight bag and heads to my room. “Yes,” she says. “Did you?”

I don’t answer. She’s in the other room, anyway, putting her things away. I go into the kitchen and pour glasses of Chardonnay. When I look up, Kathryn is standing on the other side of my island counter, her countenance stern and her lips pursing to the point of absurdity.