Enamored (20 page)

“Green, Mistress, oh my God. Green. Please.”

Please. Lauren loved to be begged for more. And so she gave it, all nine strokes. When she was done, Tiff was hanging by her wrists, unable to support her own weight. Lauren uncuffed her and sat against the wall with her on the carpet, stroking her hair.

“You did so well, birthday girl,” Lauren said. “I’m very proud of you. I’m going to take off these clamps, and I want you to breathe.”

Tiff, still floating in subspace, breathed in and cried out as the clamps were removed. Tears came to her eyes. Lauren touched her nipples gently, checking for any damage to the skin. There was none. It had been a good scene. She covered Tiff back up with her top and let the younger girl lean against her until she seemed to come back to earth.

“How are you, Tiff?” Lauren asked.

“Mistress Lauren, and Marc, sir,” she said, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand, “that was fucking awesome.”

“It was awesome for me too,” Lauren said, grinning. She felt like she could fly on the adrenaline rush.

Marc stood, stripping off his T-shirt, something he rarely did in the club. At a private party, however, all bets were off. With his muscles and tattoos on display, he made an intimidating and yet incredibly enticing specimen of man—of Dom.

“Strip off your top, Mistress Lauren. It’s your turn to submit now, and I’ve chosen Tiff to give you the lashes on my behalf.”

Tiff looked shocked. “I couldn’t, sir.”

“Yes, you could. Maybe not with the long-tail. That one takes practice. But with the flogger, yes.”

“But . . .” Tiff seemed at a loss for words. “It’s Mistress Lauren.”

“And now she’s just Lauren. My Lauren. It’s all right Tiff, you don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable. It was just a spur-of-the-moment idea.” He grinned, and rubbed his shaved head, his biceps bulging. “I’m more than happy to dole out the licks myself. I think our Mistress Lauren needs a reminder of who she belongs to.”

Without missing a beat, Lauren looked at him. “I belong to you, sir.”

“And not just until tomorrow.”

“Please, Marc.” She didn’t know what she was pleading for. Of course she didn’t want their relationship to end. And if he was happy to let her Domme other girls like Tiff, then she could be happy. Switching so quickly from Domme to sub was something she’d have to get used to, but yes, she could be very happy.

“I had a great time,” Tiff said. “Thank you again. But I’m going to leave you two lovebirds to it and get back to my party.” She grinned at them and dashed out of the bedroom. Lauren could hear her exclaim over the music, “You guys, Mistress Lauren just gave me a birthday whipping!”

Lauren laughed and pretended to pout. “You scared away my sub.”

“Just for tonight. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of chances to play with her another night, at the club or something.”

“Yeah.”

Marc smacked Lauren’s ass and she yelped in surprise. “Sorry. I mean, yes, sir. Of course.”

“So?” he asked. “Can we do this? Can you really be Mistress Lauren and also be
my
Lauren?”

“I’m sure as hell willing to give it a try, sir.” Lauren stripped off her leather top carefully and laid it down on top of the faux-leopard-fur-trimmed duvet.

Marc hugged her. “Thank you, baby. That was really hot, what you did with my secretary.” His erection pressed against her thigh. “As you can tell. My cock doesn’t lie.”

“No, it certainly does not.”

“Wish we were at my place so I could take care of this thing. All the blood has left my brain and headed south,” Marc joked.

“Don’t you want to whip me first?” she asked. Because now, she too was heady with desire. She wanted to feel that whip, in Marc’s hands, on her skin.

“Fuck yes.”

He placed the nipple clamps on her, and she sighed with pain-pleasure as they bit into the sensitive nerve endings on her nipples.

She held her arms up and faced the wall, mimicking Tiff’s earlier position. Marc cuffed her arms to the wall, caressing her body as he did. His hands on her felt so good, so right.

This was right. This was exactly where she wanted to be.

Holy shit, I’m in love with Marc Wilde.

The thought came to her unbidden, and she shook her head. Impossible. No, not impossible. She’d already loved him as her friend, but this was different. This was . . . more. But what did that mean for them?

He hadn’t said he loved her. Only that he wanted to keep her, that he didn’t want their week together to end. Their dangerous bet.

They’d made a tradition out of exchanging gifts on their friendiversary. What could she give him this time, to show him how she felt? As much as she cared for him and trusted him, the thought of being the one to say “I love you” first terrified her.

What if he didn’t return the sentiment? What if his reply was that they were simply friends and lovers, but not
in
love?

Well, no matter what happened, at least she knew how she felt. That meant being with him as his submissive, which, after the epic fail of a night in LA when he bravely attempted to switch for her, she couldn’t imagine being anything but submissive to Marc.

Even if the week ended and he decided he couldn’t have her as his sub and still let her Domme, she’d still want to be with him. That’s how much she loved him.

But dominating others, even in non-sexual scenes, got her excited. Turned-on. Could she really have the best of both worlds and still be with Marc? His cock, as he so bluntly put it, didn’t lie. It turned him on too.

The first lash of the single-tail hit her with full force, and her panties dampened with excitement.

“One,” she counted. “Thank you, sir.”

He continued, checking in with her.

Finally, when her back was on fire and the thought of another lash of the whip made her nearly orgasm with anticipation even as her body swung in the cuffs to avoid it, he stopped.

“Nine,” she breathed. “I love you, sir.”

“What did you say?” he asked, as if he truly hadn’t heard her, or perhaps didn’t believe her ears.

“Nothing,” she lied, shocked that it just slipped out.

He uncuffed her, wrapping his arms around her, and carefully removed the nipple clamps. She moaned as a new flow of erotic pain came over her.

“Shhh, baby, you’re okay. I’m here for you,” he whispered, holding her in his strong arms. The feel of his bare chest against her bare skin was almost too much to handle. He kissed her lips, gently at first, then more intensely.

She became lost in his kiss, lost in him. Together, partners in crime. This was right, the way it was meant to be. And in that moment, Lauren made a decision—to give fate a hand.

Chapter Ten

T
revor and Elisabeth returned from their honeymoon tan, glowing and—if possible—looking even more crazy in love. Elisabeth looked different, somehow, as if their time alone on Trevor’s private island, with only her Dom to answer to, had made the world an even more perfect place to be.

“I didn’t even know you could tan,” Marc joked with Elisabeth, and gave her a respectful peck on the cheek as they entered the huge grand foyer of Trevor and Elisabeth’s beautiful mansion in Westchester.

“Me either,” she laughed. “I swear I used SPF fifty every day, too.” She gave Lauren a hug and then rushed back to the formal dining room, making sure everything looked perfect.

Trevor gave her a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t stress, it’s just our usual crowd.”

Elisabeth tsked. “Roman’s back from Japan, and I want our evening to be as comfortable as possible.”

Marc winked at Lauren, who looked beautiful as always, especially tonight. She wore a more demure outfit, fitting for a casual dinner in what she liked to call “the country” even though it was less than an hour upstate of his penthouse in Manhattan.

“I’d love to hear about the honeymoon,” Lauren said, taking Elisabeth’s hand and dragging her away from the table so they could sit and relax.

Elisabeth laughed. “Well, I learned a lot about island living. I even speared a fish with a stick and we ate it like sushi.”

“No way,” Lauren gasped. “You’re like a survivalist now.”

Marc and Trevor burst into laughter, since Lauren had never seen the luxurious accommodations built on the island.

“You guys will have to join us next time,” Trevor invited.

The doorbell rang, and Elisabeth started to jump up, but immediately sat back down with simply a look from Trevor.

Wow
, Marc thought. He really had her trained well. Actually, it was Roman who had ultimately trained her, but Trevor was holding his own.
Good for him
, Marc thought as he glanced at Lauren, talking animatedly with Elisabeth. But unlike Trevor, he had no desire to tame his wild Domme.

He didn’t want to change a thing about her, as long as she could be his. Last night at Tiff’s party proved that to him. They were going to be able to make this work, as long as he kept an open mind and let her practice her dominant traits on someone other than himself. And as long as she was amenable to the idea. That was key.

Roman entered the dining room, led by Trevor’s ever-perky house manager Adele. “Knock knock,” she announced cheerily. “Mr. Chase is here.”

Trevor gave him a bear hug. “Welcome back, man.”

Roman looked taken aback by the enthusiastic welcome as Marc, Lauren, and even Elisabeth followed suit.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m still a bit jet-lagged.” They all sat at the impeccably-set table, and from the bustle in the kitchen Marc could tell the first course would come out soon.

“I bet,” Trevor said, and looked at Elisabeth, who jumped up.

“Scotch, neat, right?” she asked, already across the room and preparing it.

Roman took the drink from her, and gave her one of his rare smiles. It wasn’t awkward, like Marc had worried it might be. Japan had been a good move, definitely.

Trevor gave her a swat on the ass as she sat back down, smiling.

“So,” Roman said, “I want to officially apologize if I made things awkward at your wedding,” and he downed the drink in one shot.

The room fell silent. Roman had never apologized for anything before, officially or not. It wasn’t his style. He’d turn on his good behavior when he was out of line and things would slide into place, as they had for years.

“No, it’s fine,” Elisabeth whispered, putting her arm around Trevor, as if the shock of the apology necessitated him holding her up in her chair.

“While I was in Japan, I got a lot of business done,” Roman added. “But I also took a bit of a mental vacation. I’m clear-headed now. You two are married. You’re collared,” he said, looking at Elisabeth. “And I intend to prove with both my words and actions from now on . . . that I respect that.”

Another silence. Who was this man and where was the stern wise-ass Roman they all knew?

Marc coughed. “Good thing you had a long flight, man. Must have taken you a while to come up with that,” he joked, hoping to break the ice a bit.

“Took a while,” Roman nodded, and smirked, his long hair falling into his eyes. He pushed it back and set his empty glass on a coaster. “So are we good?”

“We’re good,” Trevor said, taking a long drink of his own. “Thank you.”

“Sounds like you got a lot accomplished in Tokyo. How was it?” Lauren asked.

“I’ll save the boring work details for tomorrow afternoon, when we need to have a meeting,” Roman said to the guys. “There’s a lot of Brooks Wilde Chase stuff we need to go through.” To Lauren, he said, “But the non-boring, non-work details were great. Amazing what money can buy in Toyko.”

Elisabeth shook her head. Lauren knew she’d grown up broke, really broke. “You can buy things here in America with money too, you know.”

“I had some lovely companions,” Roman said. “Learned some cool tricks I’m dying to test out on a new sub.”

“Ooh!” Lauren practically squealed. “Will you show me?”

Roman looked at Marc and raised his eyebrows, as if asking permission.

Marc raised his hands in an “I surrender” pose. “She can learn whatever she wants. She can Domme girls and still submit to me.”

Elisabeth gasped. “That’s right. I heard about your crazy bet. Were you really Marc’s slave for a week? How did that go?”

Marc looked over at Lauren. “The week is up today. And today is also our friendiversary, so it’s very fitting.”

The group raised their glasses. “Happy friendiversary,” Elisabeth grinned. “Six years of inseparable friendship between two of the coolest Doms I know.”

“Thanks,” Lauren and Marc said in unison, and Marc decided to just go for it and give Lauren a big public kiss on the lips.

“Whoa there,” Trevor laughed in surprise. “That doesn’t look like ‘just friends.’ ”

“We had quite the week,” Marc said. He looked at Lauren, who blushed. “I’m hoping it doesn’t end with the bet.”

“I don’t want it to end with the bet either,” Lauren said quietly.

“We usually celebrate our friendiversary at WhipperSnapper,” he said. “So I bought you a present that would have been totally appropriate at the club, but not so much here, at dinner.” He laughed.

“Same thing for me,” Lauren said, a look of surprise on her face. “And by the way, it’s really hard to buy a present for a man who already buys himself everything he wants.”

“Well, like you said . . . I can’t buy
everything
I want.”

Lauren blushed and smoothed her long red hair.

The first course came out, interrupting them. Soup, bread, and salad. But suddenly Marc wasn’t hungry for food. He wanted Lauren, alone. He wanted to give her his present. And talk. If neither of them wanted the bet to end, then . . . they had a lot to talk about.

“It’s okay,” Elisabeth said, smiling at them, as if she could read the smoldering looks passing between Marc and Lauren. “Just come back in time for dessert, at least. I made you a friendiversary cake. And by made you a cake, I mean I had one made and put a candle in it.”

Lauren clapped. “You are an awesome friend, Elisabeth.” She gasped. “I didn’t get you anything for your wedding yet. Oh no.”

“Yes you did,” Elisabeth said, laughing. “Marc signed both of your names on the card.”