Seduced by Fire (7 page)

“S
o,” Sasha said late in the morning on Saturday. “You’re going out with him again?”

Julie had called her first thing when she woke up following a late night of Internet research. She finally felt ready to discuss submission with Sasha. Thankfully, even though Sasha had planned to spend the day with Peter, she’d rearranged her schedule to talk with her.

Sasha lived in a cozy, eclectically decorated apartment above the flower shop. Julie brought over muffins, since she knew Sasha probably didn’t have anything edible in her kitchen. The only thing Sasha made on a regular basis was coffee.

“I’m doing more than going out with him,” Julie answered, putting her blueberry muffin down and wiping her hands. They were sitting in Sasha’s living room, spread out on her couch. “I’m going to have dinner at his house.”

“Ohh . . . really? He has his own playroom, you know.”

“He does? In his house?”

“Yes.” Sasha hid a sly smile while she took a sip of coffee.

Something about the thought of that made Julie’s belly quiver with excitement. She wanted to see his playroom and wondered if he’d show it to her. She’d like to see if she could imagine herself in it, because she had a feeling she could. As it was, the more and more she thought about it, the more and more she believed she might like to see if she was submissive.

“Wow,” Sasha said.

“What?”

“No freak-out? I’m impressed.”

“I spent hours online last night reading up on all this stuff. It’s going to take a bit more than finding out Daniel has his own personal dungeon to freak me out.” She had no idea there was such a wide variety of kink out there. Her research had definitely been eye opening. Kind of made her feel like a virgin all over again. “But before we talk more about me, I have a few questions for you. Like, how did you find out you were a submissive?”

A big grin covered Sasha’s face and excitement filled her voice. “I’m so happy you’re finally admitting you’re curious. I’ve seen the way you look when I talk about it. I kind of thought you’d come around eventually.”

“Yes, yes, yes.” Julie waved at her. “You’re always right. Now tell me how you knew.”

“Honestly”—Sasha’s forehead wrinkled—“I’ve known for a long time. The second guy I slept with restrained me with his hands while we had sex. I didn’t know what it was called at that point, I just knew it really turned me on. After that, vanilla sex just didn’t do it for me. I just drifted for a while, but finally found the group a few years ago and things got better after that.”

“From the little I saw, it looks like a good group.”

“Our group’s dynamics are a bit different from most. We have the senior members, who oversee everything, but we’re not like a club or anything. Mostly, it’s just known as a group with members who abide by certain guidelines. For a submissive, it helps ensure safety, knowing a Dominant can’t be a member unless they comply.”

Julie nodded. “That makes sense.”

“I guess it works that way for a Dominant, too. Knowing a submissive is serious about the lifestyle and follows group mandates.”

“Daniel said you had a meeting for just subs?”

“Yeah, if you want, you can go to one. It’s a good place for support and everyone’s real open. Chances are if you’re going through something, someone else has already been through it and can help.”

“We’ll see. I don’t want to jump into anything. I’d rather take it slow.”

“Slow is good.” Sasha got an evil look in her eye. “Of course, hard and fast is, too.”

Julie laughed, but images of the night in her hotel room with Daniel flashed in her mind. She was willing to bet Daniel could make both slow and fast incredible.

“You have that dreamy, faraway look again,” Sasha said. “Are you thinking of Master Covington and hard and fast?”

It was Julie’s turn to be a bit evil. “And slow, too. Can’t forget about slow.”

Sasha reached over and took her hand. “Can I say again that I’m so proud of you for admitting you’re interested in at least exploring this part of yourself. Not everyone is brave enough, you know.”

“If I don’t, I’ll never stop wondering.”

“You’re such a smart woman.”

“That’s why you keep me around.” Julie hugged her. “Okay, personal question: What’s your favorite part about submitting to someone?”

A serious look came over Sasha’s expression and she stood and walked to the window. She stayed there for a few minutes, simply staring outside. When she turned around, she looked uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“We actually discussed that a few months ago at a group meeting for submissives,” she said. “I didn’t say anything then, but I’ve given it a lot of thought since. I enjoy the sex, of course, but for me, I think . . . I think it’s being under someone’s care.”

Julie frowned. “That’s not what I was thinking. I thought you’d tell me some hot bondage story.”

“I know.” She smiled before turning serious again. “For me, it’s more than just
that
. On the surface it doesn’t make sense, but the more I thought about it, the more it did.”

“How so?”

“When you’re with a Dom, you’re under his control, sure, but you’re also under his protection. For me, there’s something liberating in knowing you can drop all your worries, cares, and inhibitions and just feel for a while. Trust someone else to take care of everything. To take care of you.”

It shocked Julie to hear Sasha say that. Her friend had always been one to take charge. She forever seemed so self-reliant, it never occurred to Julie that under the tough exterior, under the spiky hair and snappy comebacks, lurked a woman who just wanted someone to take the reins for a short time.

Submission, it seemed, fulfilled that need for Sasha.

“Okay, but then where do the whips and chains factor into that?” Julie asked.

A smile broke across Sasha’s face. “Now, that,
that’s
simple. The whips and chains just turn me on. And when you pair that with a caring Dominant who knows what he’s doing?” She flopped down on the couch, head thrown back and arms spread wide. “I’m done for.”

“Daniel seems like a caring Dominant who knows what he’s doing.”

Sasha lifted her head. “I’ve seen him in a demo or two. He definitely knows what he’s doing.”

Julie really didn’t want to think about Daniel playing with someone else. “If he’s so good, how come the two of you never got together?”

“It’s not like I’ve been with all the Dominants in the group. Maybe I just don’t go for blond guys.”

Sasha had never been dissuaded by hair color before. Julie cocked an eyebrow at her. “You’ve dated plenty of blond guys. Tell me the real reason.”

“Now you just make me sound cheap and easy.”

Julie threw a small couch pillow at her. “Spill.”

“Okay, okay,” Sasha said, holding her hands up. “I guess he just intimidated me a bit.”

“Daniel? Really?”

“You met him first as a customer downstairs. When I saw him first, he was demonstrating how to use a cane in a punishment scene.”

“Ouch.” Julie had read about canes the night before. They sounded . . . interesting. But nothing she wanted to try anytime soon. “I guess that would cloud your judgment.”

“And he’s a senior member . . . and he’s very wealthy.”

“He’s just a regular guy.”

“Oh, please.” Sasha rolled her eyes. “Even you don’t believe that.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” She looked down at her watch. “Less than six hours until I see Mr. Not-So-Regular.”

“He would be a good choice for you to get your kink on with. If you’re still interested.”

The quiver had returned to her belly. “I think I am.”

“What about it interests you the most?”

“Time to talk about me now?”

“Fair is fair.”

Julie trailed a finger along the edge of the couch. “I don’t know if I can really say for sure. I think it’s about trusting someone enough to surrender my body to him. Knowing he wants my pleasure as well.”

Sasha’s smile covered her face. “You’re so done for. You’re going to taste it once and never go back.”

Julie had a feeling she was right.

Five hours later, she pulled into Daniel’s driveway with her heart pounding and her body buzzing with excitement. Not because she necessarily thought anything would happen, but because she was finally going to talk about being submissive again. This time with Daniel.

Daniel’s home was a large two-story farmhouse, set on ten acres, about fifteen miles outside of town. He told her it had been his grandfather’s, complete with stocked pond on the property. It really didn’t fit the image of the corporate banker, but somehow it fit Daniel.

He met her at the front door wearing worn jeans and a blue sweater.

“Glad you didn’t change your mind,” he said before kissing her cheek.

“You’re not giving me enough credit,” she said. “No one forced me to go to the group meeting, you know. I went because I wanted to.”

“Point taken.”

He led her through the spacious house. It was tastefully decorated with a sprinkling of antiques, but just enough electronics to tell anyone entering that it was, in fact, a bachelor pad.

Several pieces, though . . .

She pointed to a table in the living room. “Is that Herter Brothers?”

“It is. Are you into antiques?”

“If by ‘into,’ you mean do I drool over them, then the answer is yes.”

A wicked grin crossed his face and he dropped his voice. “You should see my bed.”

Hands on her hips, she turned to face him. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“So few appreciate an English Jacobean
lit à colonnes
.”

She’d only seen pictures of that kind of huge bed with a heavy wooden canopy supported by four large, intricately carved pillars—and he slept in one? “No, I imagine few people do. But I’ve always dreamed of seeing one up close.”

“Well, maybe if you’re good . . .”

She punched him. “You know what I meant.”

He caught her hand and brought it behind her back, stepping close, and trapping her. “I know exactly what you meant. And I want you to know it delights me that you know what the bed is, and if you’re interested in seeing it after dinner, I’ll be more than happy to show you.”

She twisted out of his grasp, just because she felt like teasing him. “Promise?”

“Fire, Julie. You better be careful.”

His words warmed her body and intensified the needy ache between her legs. She thought back to the previous weekend, how his body pounded into hers. The way her climax overtook her. The weight of him, satisfied and sated, heavy against her.

“Why? Will you burn me, Daniel?”

“Only if you don’t consume me first.”

•   •   •

T
hey took their time talking over dinner, while eating the seafood stew Daniel had made. He kept the conversation light, talking about learning to cook from his grandmother, and how his sister was teaching her daughter how to make bread. What he didn’t talk about was anything related to sex, the meeting two days before, or the playroom under their feet. She eventually realized he was waiting for her to start.

“How was the party last night?” she finally asked.

“Since I didn’t have to throw anyone out, I would call it successful.” He didn’t show any surprise at her question. He simply leaned back in his chair, calm and relaxed.

“Do you often?”

“No, not often, but more times than I’d like. We have rules in place, not only to protect our privacy, but also to keep our members safe.”

She took a swallow of her water. Now or never. “I read the checklist. A lot of it sounds dangerous.”

“It’s not just the obvious things like edge play. It could be as simple as having a submissive tied too tightly, in the wrong position, or not realizing how deep they are in subspace.”

“Sounds like a lot of responsibility. Makes you wonder why . . .”

“Why anyone would be a Dom?”

“Exactly.”

“I can’t speak for every Dom, but for me, having a submissive give herself to me completely, to grant me the right to control her pleasure, to allow herself to be used by me—it’s the greatest turn-on there is.”

“And those who say you’re just in it for the power trip?”

“Don’t understand the absolute devotion a Dom holds for his sub. How he protects her and holds her above all.”

When he put it in those terms, and looked at her the way he was, his blue eyes so piercing, yet so gentle? It made her insides melt.

It also made her want to give herself to him. Completely.

She knew Daniel wouldn’t push her, wouldn’t make the first move. She just wasn’t sure she was ready to strike the match.

“The other thing I wondered,” she said. “In your relationships, do you expect submission all the time?”

“Do I want a twenty-four/seven submissive?” At her nod, he continued. “No, for me personally, I want obedience in the bedroom or playroom only.”

“But last weekend?”

“Was wonderful.”

“Yet I wasn’t kneeling, or calling you ‘Master,’ or anything.”

At once, his eyes grew dark and unyielding. “Think back, Julie. Remember. Was it a negotiated power play scene? No. But was it, perhaps, somewhat
more
than the sex you’ve experienced before?”

Well, when he put it like that.

“It was certainly something else,” she admitted. She took another sip of water and wished for just a second that the glass contained something stronger. Finally ready, she met his gaze. “One last question.”

“Ask me anything.”

“Will you show me your bed?”

•   •   •

H
e didn’t ask her if she was sure and he didn’t clear the table. He simply nodded, rose to his feet, and held out his hand. Likewise, she stood and placed her hand in his.

As he led her through the house, he talked of the bed: where he found it, how he transported it, and the custom bedding he had to have made. She was thankful because it gave her something to think about besides what she’d just asked for. Even still, her mind couldn’t focus on the details of the house.

Up the stairs and down a hall he guided her, all the while holding her hand. The room he led her to contained the most massive and beautifully made bed she’d ever seen. It was huge, with two hand-carved posts at the foot and a wooden canopy overhead. The delicate woodwork begged you to run a finger over it and she could only imagine the time it took the carpenter to create such a masterpiece. She was awed just thinking about how many centuries it’d seen.