Everything He Wants (7 page)

I craned my neck, eyeing the very normal staircase leading down to another level of the house. "The basement?"

"No, sweetheart." He stepped out of the way so I could walk through. "The dungeon."

I
placed my hand on the wall as my vision drifted over the little I could see from my place on the stairs. The steps were similar to the ones my parents had leading into their basement, but the smell was very different. Freshly polished wood, carpeting, and a few other things I couldn't place.

"Do we go down?" I asked, keeping my eyes fixed on the bottom of the stairs.

Standing inside the doorway, I was mentally preparing myself to cross the border between the overwhelming and the extreme when Jake grabbed my arm.

"You entered my home as a guest," he said, his voice firm. "But by going down there, you agree to play by my rules—as a sub. Do you understand?"

I eyed the hand he had around my wrist. "Yes. I understand."

He released my arm, but he wasn't finished yet. "I have one rule in my dungeon for my subs. Clothing
must
be removed before you reach the last step. This is the part of the house I built. Everything you see, everything you touch was created to feed this lifestyle. You may return to the main floor of the house, or, we can continue into the more...controlling aspect of this life."

I wet my lips. "And if I choose to go upstairs?"

"You are still welcome to stay as long as you like, as my companion. However, if you have any interest at all in being a sub, the dungeon is the first place we’ll go." He flicked on the lights and made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Think of it as sensory overload, or in this case, doing whatever I can to desensitize you from the horrors you may have read in books."

Offering the lowest level of the house a final glance, I started to unbutton my blouse. Step by cautious step, I made my way down toward the dungeon, and as I did, Jake followed. He held on to the loose fabric as I slipped my arms from the sleeves. He draped the garment over his arm, eyebrows raised, urging me to continue.

I took another step, pausing to glance at the corner of the dungeon I could see. The lights down here were dim, but they were bright enough to give me a good idea of where everything was.
This isn’t any dungeon.
In fact, it wasn’t anything like the play rooms I’d read about at all. It was fully furnished and almost as wide as the rest of the house, with just as many rooms.

"You sleep down here?" I asked, pointing to a bed at the farthest corner of the room.

"Sometimes, yes. It’s mostly for comfort, though."

I was so engrossed by what I couldn’t see, I’d almost forgotten Jake’s rule.
You need to be completely undressed to enter his dungeon.
Grimacing from the cold, I unclasped my bra, handing it to him before working on my jeans. Within moments, those too were off and out of the way, along with my heels and stockings.

"Almost there," Jake murmured, nodding to the bottom of the stairs. He smiled when I handed him my underwear. "Good girl. Now we can continue."

Placing his hand on my shoulder, Jake urged me down the rest of the steps, stopping at the very bottom to grab a robe he had hanging over the railing. Thankful for the warm layer of fabric, I hugged it around myself.

With the wall along the stairs out of the way, I could see everything. As expected, there were even more rooms to explore. The main area where I pointed out the bed also had an X made from two beams that were bolted to the floor. I noted the cuffs attached to all four ends, some intended for wrists while others were to be used on a sub’s ankles.

I jumped when Jake placed a hand at the small of my back.

"Nervous?" he asked, nodding to the X in front of us. "That’s a Saint Andrew’s cross," he explained, gently guiding me over to it. "Go on. It won’t bite."

I took a step forward. Reached for one of the cuffs so I could feel the weight of it in my hand. It was very similar to what I had at home, but at least this one wasn't falling apart. Made from black leather, much like most of Jake’s furniture, the cuffs were held shut with a series of silver snaps.

"Used those before, have you?" Jake asked when I opened one of the cuffs.

I looked back at him. "Not this kind, no."

"But you have been bound."

I tried to keep my hands from shaking. "It was a fantasy. Nothing more."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because..." I sighed and turned away from the cross. "My ex was the one who used them on me, but it isn’t something I’d like to do again."

Jake frowned. "With him or me?"

"I don’t know."

"Look at me. Right now I’m fighting really hard to be your friend instead of your Master. I’m not going to lie. I’d love to put you on that cross, but not until I feel you’re ready."

His disappointment made my heart sink into the pit of my stomach. I trusted him. After all he’d done for me since my run-in with Dennis at
The Limelight,
how could I not? But by refusing to face the cross—for Jake to bind me to it—did that mean I didn’t trust him?

"I can see this troubles you," Jake said, drawing me away from the cross. "You need to know I would never ask you to do something unless I thought you were ready. Here, come with me."

Still looking at the cross, I followed him over to the bed I’d noticed on my way down here. He sat on the mattress and drew me into his lap.
This is stupid.
I was running from an inanimate object, an object that, if used in the right hands, could probably give me an outlet. I loved how aggressive Jake was in my kitchen, as well as in my bed. I wanted to see that side of him again, but the closer I got to becoming his sub, the gentler he became. And quite frankly, it was driving me nuts.

I got up, and without a second thought, I knelt beside him, laying my head in his lap. At first, he didn’t move. I thought for sure I’d done something wrong, but then he started to stroke my hair, idly humming as he did.

Lifting my head, I met his gaze. "You’re the strangest Dom I’ve ever known."

He canted his head to one side. "How many Doms have you met?" When I didn’t answer, he continued. "We aren’t the monsters most books make us out to be. We can be assertive, yes, but we can also be gentle, like I am right now."

"But you haven’t ordered me around."

"That’s because I need to be sure this is what you want. I don’t bring subs into my dungeon unless I think they can handle it. I know you’re more than capable of submitting, you’ve proven it to me. Thing is, I can’t make this decision for you." He held up a hand before I could say anything. "I’m not done. I know right now you want to say yes and that you want to make me happy, but I want you to really think about it first. Take a few days."

"But I’ve already taken a few days," I pointed out.

"Yes, to visit my home. However, now that you’ve seen my dungeon, you may have second thoughts. Not only that, but you also haven’t agreed to my terms yet. This, my dear, sweet Kira is the reason why I haven’t scolded you for questioning my décor."

I laughed at that, and he did the same.

"There’s the smile I like to see. Come here." He lifted me back into his lap and hugged me to his chest. "I promised you the life of a sub, and that’s the life you shall have—if you want it."

"So, this gentle side of you isn’t..."

"Normal?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Trust me, I can be as assertive as the next guy, but right now we’re just two people getting to know one another. Tell me. When Dennis bound you, was it physical abuse or..."

"A bit of both, I guess." I was suddenly aware of the bruises on my hips from Dennis’s fingernails and wondered why Jake hadn’t said anything.

He probably hasn’t noticed because you didn’t bruise.
Black and blue or not, I sure as hell felt it.

"I see," Jake said, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Well, I’m going to say this now. There is a difference between Doms using floggers and other types of impact play to send a sub into subspace and play that's too rough—like what Dennis may have done—that endangers the sub’s well-being. I do the former, and will kick the ass of whoever knowingly does the latter."

"Good to know."

And it was. Better than good, in fact. I’d read about women getting seriously injured from floggers or by Doms who didn’t have a steady hand. And while I couldn’t say how much control Jake had with something similar, I did trust him. He hadn’t steered me wrong just yet, even if he did seem to have a slight Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde thing going on.

Two personalities.
Two personas. Two names to keep straight. At
The Limelight,
folks knew him as Master Logan, but here, in the comfort of his own home, he was Jake.

"There is one thing you should know," Jake said, lifting my chin. "If you couldn’t tell from this house, I’m made of money—inherited it, actually, but that doesn’t define who I am."

"I didn’t think it would. But if you have so much saved, why work for someone else?"

"Even Doms need structure. Not only that, but if I didn’t work, I think I’d lose my damned mind. The money is a cushion, but not something I care to brag about."

"Then why tell me this?"

"Because, there may come a time when others will try to bribe you for my money. In all honesty, I only have around one million in my account at any given time. The rest is saved in bonds or donated."

"Why so little?"

"Let’s put it this way. If I gave you one hundred grand to do with whatever you like, would you keep it all in one bank account?" He continued when I didn’t say anything. "No, you wouldn’t, and by the look on your face, you’d be less inclined to spend it than I am. You’d probably invest half of it, if not more, and only keep on hand what was needed to pay the bills. That’s the same way I work. Yes, I may be what some consider a billionaire, but I don’t live that life. I made that choice well before this place was handed to me."

"And what of your subs?" I paused, wondering if I was about to cross the line. "Do you do the whole billionaire thing where you buy their clothes and tell them what to wear?"

"No. I believe in self-expression. I also believe in working for what you want. I expect all of my subs to hold a full-time job or, at the very least, to pick up a hobby. Busy hands make for a busy mind, which is healthy in any sub—new or experienced."

"You really are a strange Dom, you know that?"

"No, my dear. I’m normal. I have tastes like everyone else. I expect my subs to ask questions or even go as far as to questioning my authority. If I should ever make you physically uncomfortable, I want to know as soon as that pin drops. I’m not going to reprimand you. You may be submitting to me, but you hold all the control. At the end of the day, we’re just a couple like any other, even if our play may get a little rough at times."

"And the job?"

"Looking at your recent history, we aren’t going to concern ourselves with that. However, I do ask you find a hobby. What do you enjoy doing with your spare time?"

"I’ve never actually done it, but I’ve always had this odd fascination with masks."

"Masks, hmm? And why is that?"

"Because." I leaned in to kiss him on the lips. "We all have something to hide."

"Is that so?" He laid back on the bed, taking me with him. "What about you? What is my pet hiding?"

I rested my head against his chest and hid my eyes from him. We were doing an odd balancing act of lovers and something more. I could almost feel us leaning too far to one side, and I wasn’t quite ready to fall down into the safety net yet.

When I looked at him again, his expression was as serious as my own. "If we do this, what would your terms be?"

He kissed me on the forehead and sat up. "Are you asking for the sake of asking, or are you actually interested?"

I took a good look around the room, and the cross along with the cuffs didn’t seem to bother me nearly as much as when we first entered the dungeon. "Interested."

"All my subs go through a period of consideration. During this time, the sub is trained to recognize and tend to my needs, just as I learn to tend to hers."

"You seem to have a pretty good handle on that already."

"Indeed, but you know very little about my own. I expect my subs to wait inside the door for me when I get home and perform more advanced tasks in public. However, seeing as this will be your first time, I’m going to make a few exceptions." He gestured to the middle of the room, standing after I stepped away from the bed. Once we were in front of the cross, he stopped. "While we’re in this dungeon, I only have one name. You will speak only when spoken to and call me Master. The same thing goes for when we’re at
The Limelight
or any other public setting where our lifestyle is accepted. When you address other Doms, you will call them sir. It’s a form of respect. But under no circumstances should you ever call another Dom Master, not unless you’ve played with him before, and certainly not without his last name."

"Master Devlin, for example," I said, smiling when Jake—or was it Master Logan now?—made a sound of approval.

"Yes. As for the kind of play we do, in the end, it’s up to me. It’s my job to keep an eye on you and keep you safe, but in no way should this make you think I hold all the control—you’d be wrong."

"I’m sorry?"

"Believe it or not, the subs are the ones who have the control. I’m going to give you two words—safe words. These can be used at any point during play if you feel something’s wrong. When you use either of these words, play stops immediately. No questions asked. No punishment. I’d rather you use one of these than to hold out past your breaking point. If something gets to be too much, you need to use them, understand?"

"Yes."

"The words are red and yellow. Yellow is something you’d use if you need to change positions, use the bathroom, or are feeling ill. Red is when I’ve taken things too far. Keep in mind that if you ever use red, whatever we were doing will be added to a list of hard limits. This means whatever play stops on red, we probably won’t approach it again for a while, if at all."