Over the Line (16 page)

“Chewie is annoying the hands who are checking the fence.”

“Better them than me.” But she didn’t mean it. She had already developed an affection for the miniature-sized goat.

“I’ll take your bag upstairs,” he said as they entered the house. “Would you like to go with it?”

She laughed. “Was that your subtle way of telling me to change my clothes, Sir?”

“Actually, I was asking if you needed to freshen up. I was going to invite you to join me for a glass of lemonade before I beat your ass.”

He pushed the brim of his hat back a little, far enough that she had a better look at his sizzling green eyes.

“But now that you mention it…” He dropped her bag on the kitchen floor. The thud echoed through the open space.

Under his scrutiny, she grew warm.

“What kind of panties are you wearing?”

Oh, yes, he was all Dom. And he would never let her forget it. “Boy shorts, Sir.”

“Turn around and show me.”

Her heart raced. This part of kink excited her. Maybe he defined it as submission, and so maybe they weren’t as far apart on what they wanted as she had feared.

He nodded. “Do it now.”

She did as he had ordered and hiked up her skirt.

“Spread your legs,” he said. “And grab your ankles.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered. Feeling a bit nervous, she did.

For a long time, he said nothing.

Aware of his scrutiny and wondering what he was thinking, she stood there, trying not to move.

“They may be boy shorts, but they’re not quite what I expected.”

“These are my favourites,” she said. The edges were lacy, making the stretchy material serviceable, but also cute.

“You are a constant surprise to me. The moment I have you figured as a leather and latex woman, you wear something like this.”

“Is that okay, Sir?”

“Delightful,” he assured her.

His footfalls sounded loud on the floor. Then in a great surprise, he grabbed her panties and yanked them up hard between the crack of her ass.

She gasped at the shock.

“Very nice,” he said. “You’ll not be going home with your ass looking quite like this,” he promised.

“I figured as much, Sir.” And she’d been hoping she’d bear a few marks to remember him by.

“Stay in position, subbie.” He reached in front of her and took hold of the panty fabric.

He worked the material back and forth between her folds, abrading her cunt. She began to move in time with him.

“You’re getting your panties damp, naughty girl.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He increased the friction, and she began to whimper. Holding onto her ankles became more and more difficult. “Oh, Sir… Sir, Sir, Sir!”

“Did you masturbate?”

“No, Sir. I promise.”

“Then this has to feel maddening.”

“It does. Very much, Sir.”

“How long has it been since you came?”

“It was when I was with you last, Sir.

He all but lifted her from the ground. She squealed.

“You must want an orgasm.”

“I do. Please. Please, Sir.”

“You’re compliant when you think you’re going to get what you want. And a vixen when that doesn’t happen.”

He released her.

Bastard.
This was the part of submission she hated. And it had the potential to overwhelm everything else.

“Stay in position.”

She drank in a couple of deep breaths to contain her frustration. “I don’t like you denying me an orgasm, Sir, particularly when I have done everything you’ve ordered.”

“Stand up and look at me, Sydney.”

Her hands trembled as she smoothed down her skirt and turned back to face him. She took a step away from him.

“This is the nature of the struggle between us,” he agreed. “You want what you want, not what I want to give.”

She scowled.

“Can you surrender to me?”

“Is that rhetorical?” She folded her arms across her chest.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” he conceded.

“Sir?”

“If you want to be with someone who’ll take you to the edge of pain, instead of someone who’s interested in taking you to the limits of your endurance to find out how much you’re willing to give in order to have a more sublime experience, then you need a different Dom.”

“The last time I was with you, I was satisfied. It wasn’t how I normally scene. It was different. Better, in some ways.”

“I appreciate every aspect when I’m with a woman,” he told her. “But I don’t get off on just beating her body. I want her mind. I want her fully engaged. And then, when I beat her, she is engulfed.”

She tightened her arms around herself.

“If you can let go of your single-minded focus on reaching the end game and, instead, trust that I will take you where you want to be, I think you could enjoy it. Have you ever experienced subspace?”

“Is that kind of like the chupacabra, Sir?” she asked, referencing the mythological goat-sucking creature.

He laughed, shattering the tension. “So I guess your answer is no. It would take a lot of trust for me to get you there, wouldn’t it?”

She’d heard some subs at the Den talk about it in vaunted terms. She figured if it were really a place, it would be on a map. “I think it fits in the same categories as unicorns and vampires.”

“What do you believe in?”

“Hard work. The uncertainty of life. Things that are tangible. And the fact you deny me more times than you let me come.”

“Some women doubt the existence of multiple orgasms.”

“Unless they have the right vibrator or a man with a good technique, they’re right.”

“Maybe the same is true for subspace.”

“Maybe.”

“You’re not convinced. Have you ever had a runner’s high?”

She regarded him.

“Same kind of thing, I’m told. Endorphins flood the systems.”

“That happens during an orgasm, Sir.”

“I’m sure you’re right. It’s a chupacabra.”

But he’d ignited her imagination, and she was intrigued. What if there was something else she hadn’t experienced? She’d never considered setting a goal to reach subspace.

Master Michael seemed to believe it existed. Even if it didn’t, could being in a different frame of mind make a scene hotter? What if she wasn’t trying to protect herself emotionally? What if she followed someone else’s lead?

She was sure he was right about one thing. It would take trust. For her, it would also mean suppressing her desires. And it might take a long fucking time. Patience was not one of her virtues.

“Would you like to use the powder room? I’ll leave your bag down here until after you’ve made a decision.”

She nodded.

“If you’d like, you’re welcome to join me on the back deck when you’re ready. Otherwise, I’m sure Pedro will help you with the gate.” He exited the room without touching her. She sighed.

She had wanted to show up, get a flogging followed by a long, hard fuck then take a warm soapy shower. Even the idea of being in his bed, all but trapped by his large body all night, had a certain appeal. But he always seemed to have different ideas than she did.

Damn it and him. She hated ultimatums.

It had been a long drive up here and it made no sense to pick up her belongings and head back.

During the time they’d been apart, she hadn’t allowed herself to really remember the reality of what it had meant to be with him. In her head, she’d replayed the scenes where he’d tied her up, spanked her, screwed her. She’d kept all the good memories and buried the rest. Master Michael wasn’t nearly the jackass Lewis had been with rules and expectations, but he was a long way from vanilla.

So, did she want this badly enough to agree to his terms?

What was the alternative? Go home, masturbate then wait for the next event at the Den? Contact a Dom on the membership website she belonged to? Go to a munch in Denver and meet some new people? All of them would have rules, as well. And they wouldn’t have been vetted through Gregorio or Master Damien, so there was an added physical risk, not that that was all bad.

One thing she knew—Master Michael was respectful. He would make sure she came to no harm. And damn if he wasn’t irresistible.

She sighed.

Decision made, she freshened up in the main-level bathroom. It seemed presumptuous to go upstairs to the master bedroom without him.

She splashed water on her face then tucked in her shirt. After straightening her skirt, she adjusted her panties so the material no longer cut into her tender parts.

Satisfied that she looked a little more in control, she joined him on the patio. Wondering what he might say, nerves slammed through her. “May I?”

“Please,” he said, standing.

His old-world manners charmed her. It seemed incongruous with a D/s relationship. After she had sat in the chair next to his, he resumed his seat.

“This is a different view than the one you see from the front of the house,” she said. “A lot fewer trees. And are those cows out there?”

“Good eye,” he said. “The river convinced my grandfather to buy, but Granddad built the house over here so that he could take advantage of all the views, and this has a beauty all its own. May I pour you a glass of lemonade? Homemade. It’s a bit too sweet for my tastes, but it’s refreshing.”

“You really are domesticated.”

“I like what I like,” he said. He looked at her pointedly.

“I am getting that message loud and clear, Sir.”

“Out here, it helps to be resourceful.”

“You could have a cook.”

“Seems a waste for one person. The few hands are fairly adept at taking care of themselves as well.”

She accepted the glass and took a sip. “I like it, Sir. Thank you.” She tucked her legs beneath her then looked at him, waiting.

“I can make you an early dinner before you go,” he said. “I have some steaks and a fresh salad. I’m happy to simply enjoy your company, if that’s your preference.”

“Ah… No. Thanks.” She leant forwards to put her glass on the small table. They’d stalled long enough on facing this moment. “No offence, but I can have a steak almost anywhere.”

“Then…?” He regarded her intently.

“I’d like it if we could still scene, Sir.”

“Under my rules?”

“It seems I have no other option, Sir.”

“Fair warning, I might not let you come until tomorrow.”

She sucked in a breath but continued to meet his gaze. She couldn’t gauge how serious he was. “If that pleases you, Sir.” Even she was wondering how she had forced those words out of her mouth.

“Perhaps I won’t let you orgasm at all.”

This time she gritted her teeth. “I hope Sir takes pity on this poor sub.”

He laughed. “Jesus, Sydney. Did you find a copy of
The Complete Submissive Manual
in the bathroom?”

“Does such a book exist?”

“Not that I know of, but if it did, that line would be in there. Ah.” He tapped his fingers together. “While you were inside, did you call Gregorio and ask for a list of responses to give your Dom when you don’t agree with him but don’t want to piss him off and be disrespectful?”

“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t authentic,” she hedged.

He raised his eyebrows in his usual, dominant way. “Maybe?”

“What do you want from me, Sir?” she asked, exasperation oozing out despite her attempt to keep it in check.

“Honesty.”

“Fine.” She tried again, saying, “I may die unless I come a dozen times, Sir.”

“That was much more believable.”

“And since you don’t want to be responsible for my demise, I suggest we start with an orgasm right away.”

“I have two thousand acres I can bury you on.”

Her frustration eased. He could be difficult, but she knew where she stood with him. No games or artifice. He’d offered her a nice afternoon and a meal, with no expectations of sex and no hurt feelings. But if she wanted to stay? “I can’t win, can I, Sir?”

“Only by admitting defeat.”

“You don’t ask for much.”

“Everything you have to give.” He paused a beat, adjusted his hat then added, “And more.”

“I…”

“The words you used a moment ago? The sentiment is good. When you can utter them and mean them, then you’ll know success.”

“How do you know I didn’t mean them?”

“Your tone,” he said. “At times sarcasm is your primary language.”

She winced.

“My guess is you do it to protect yourself.”

“Psychoanalysis again, Sir?”

“Not at all. You’re just transparent. I take it you’re staying? On my terms? Whether or not you have an orgasm?”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, Sir, I am.” She had doubts that this could be a spectacular night. But she’d had no better offers. Well, she was realistic enough to admit that that wasn’t the only reason she was opting to stay. She was staying because, curse it all, despite her intentions to shield her emotions, she liked him. Even if he frustrated her—and he did—she liked being with him. More than that, she believed he had an inborn streak of kindness, which gave her the confidence to emotionally expose herself more than she had in a handful of years.

When she’d accepted Lewis’ collar, she would have said she believed he had her best interests at heart, too. But, she had been much younger and considerably more naïve. Since then, she’d had numerous BDSM interactions. The men she’d played with had also been experienced in the scene, even if they weren’t lifestylers. Since their hook-ups had been at the Den and nosy Gregorio was always checking up on her, she’d never had concerns for her safety.

“Let’s see how committed you are. Please stand, lift your skirt, bend over and grab your ankles.”

She knew where this was going. He wanted to test her by repeating what had happened when she had first arrived. Since he hadn’t told her to go inside, she assumed he wanted her half naked, out here on the patio.

Slowly she stood and got into position.

“On second thought, I want your backside facing the other direction.”

So anyone who happened to be around could witness her humiliation. “Yes, Sir.” She did as he instructed.

He moved behind her and slid a finger beneath the elastic of her panties then between her labia. “Interesting,” he said.

“Sir?”