Subfrenzy (the Subfrenzied Series) (23 page)

“
Wow. You went from--” he snorted, “to--” I saw him glance at my arms.

“
I know.” I watched buildings fly by. “I branched pretty far away from etiquette classes.”

“
That's not true.” The heat in his gaze made me feel strange. Happy. Incredibly submissive. “Do you need anything before I get you home?”

“
No... Thank you, Sir.”

“
You sure? I don't plan on leaving again until tomorrow night.”

“
I'm sure, Sir.”

Desire
burned when his fingers curled around my thigh. His car sped down the street, it's engine purring quietly. I leaned against his shoulder, happy that my head was already clearing.

It was a startling moment: Coming out of the kitchen, I saw Quinn sitting on the couch. He was almost done with his cigarette, leaning back with his legs comfortably spread. Something about the way he was sitting-? So masculine, yet relaxed. Submission hit and the energy took over. He looked really good. And it felt really good, kneeling next to him on the couch.

“
Where's your collar?”

“
The bedroom, Sir.” I replied.

“
Let's go there. Kneel on the bed.”

The leather was smooth, encircling my neck. I forgot about Tony and Cleo, how awkward I had felt making conversation at dinner. I'd do it again if he wanted me to. Quinn held my wrists together behind my back. His pants were undone, but smooth when I rubbed my cheek against one of his thighs. I let myself drop a few inches forward and trusted him to keep me from falling.              
“I'm sorry, Sir?” I wondered why he had pulled away. He barely let me touch the tip with my tongue before I was kneeling straight again.

“
Don't be.”

He
raised my skirt and groaned, seeing my thong. It was pure black, the flower and leaf shapes connecting to form the fabric in front. It wrapped around my hips with delicate, silvery chains.

“
Sexy, sexy submissive.” His fingers moved through the spaces between the designs as he pulled it down over my legs. “Lay on your stomach, baby.”

Quinn
parted my legs a little, leaning over me from behind. My head tilted down when he framed my shoulders with his arms. I writhed my hips back into his, wanting more of his weight. Shivers ran through my skin when he kissed the right side of my neck. Soft pleasure took me under, his lips following the curve of my inner shoulder.

“
I've wanted you all night...”

“
Have you?”

I smiled, laughing when he bit the outside of my shoulder. “Yes, Sir. I really have.”

“How?”

“
However you want me, Sir. I wasn't thinking about, 'how.'”

* * *
 

V
era called while we were getting lunch at a Chinese food place, but only to say that there was a marathon being held in New York. Traffic was impossible, and she gave up after not moving more than five blocks in half an hour. Neither of us minded very much.

We left the restaurant and dropped of the dry-cleaning, stopped at an office supplies store so he could stock up, and then a furniture store just because he wanted to look around.
The pain and pleasure I'd taken while he drove from place to place, had been distracting enough. I didn't care that his windows were clear or that it was daytime, with his hand hidden under my skirt, though submission wavered when his fingers dipped under the top of my shirt. His eyes were warm with amusement when he moved his hand back under my skirt. As punishment, or maybe for fun, he had brought me to the edge twice without letting me come.

“
I got you close, a few times in the car.”

“
You did, Sir.” I shivered inside, remembering.

“
Need to do anything before I tie you down?”

“
I don't, Sir. ...yes, Sir. May I get my collar?”

“
Yes. Then lay on your back with your head on the pillows. I'm going to have you there for a while.”             

Quinn
returned, standing in the doorway with a long-bladed knife. I closed my eyes and wrapped reality around me, but when I opened them, he was still there. It's hilt was black and silver with a grooved grip. He took his knives seriously, too.

“
You're not afraid of me cutting you at all, are you.”

“
Not at all, Sir,” I immediately melted into stillness.

“
Do you know how sharp this is? Do. Not. Move.”

“
Yes, Sir.”

He
looked into my eyes and roughly pulled my head back. I stopped breathing with the knife's edge against my neck. It was cold and deceptively smooth, a metallic taste lingering on the back of my tongue. He dragged the sharp tip over my stomach, drawing a straight line toward the middle of my chest. I grit my teeth when he paused over my right nipple, but he continued down to my hip. My skin itched, the line filling in with pink. He laid the blade flat, pressed longwise against the right side of my ribs. Pressure made me breathe out slowly, my ribcage shrinking away. Subspace pulled me under when he pressed a little harder. I could feel that there was a patch of roughness about halfway down the edge, a notch closer toward the sharp point.

“
You trust me a lot.”

I looked into his eyes, fear repressed by submission. When I couldn't breathe out anymore, I fell into subspace, waiting for the bright cut of pain.
Quinn flipped it around so the edge wasn't resting against my skin anymore.

“
You definitely liked it.” His warm laughter wrapped around me. I heard the knife fall heavily into a drawer. “You're so wet now...”

“
Did that bother you, Sir?” I asked, the intense tension melting away as I leaned against him.

“
It didn't, no.” He laid his hand flat against my cheek.

I
had the strangest feeling that he wanted to slap me.
If he did?
Pride broke, strands of it snapping deep inside of me, but I wanted to know if I could take that kind of pain. The risk was that it would go further and become dangerous.
He wouldn't,
I trusted him enough to believe it. 

“
Do you want to--, Sir?” I hesitated, wondering if I had read him wrong.

“
Do I want to what?”

“
Smack me like that, Sir.” 

His
confusion was buried under an overwhelming wave of dominance. “Say it the right way.”

“
Do you want to smack me across the face, Sir?”

“
You don't like that.” I went warmer with submission when I saw how startled he looked. “Why do you ask?”

“
I don't know, Sir.”

“
Do you
want
me to hit you that way?”

“
If it's something you like doing. I trust you to, Sir.”

“
... You know I don't want to hit you hard.”

“
That's what I'm hoping, Sir.” 

“
You laugh because you think it's funny?” He grabbed my neck and kept my head raised.

“
I'm sorry, Sir! Not because it's
funny
, but-”

“
What?” His voice was sharper than the knife had been.

The
jolt of fear I felt was immediately buried under submission. I saw his hand raise, but his fingers stroked the side of my cheek instead of hitting me.

“
You didn't flinch away. I'm impressed.”

Only
when I relaxed did he lightly slap the side of my face, not moving his hand from where he hit me. The tingling sensation wasn't unpleasant. He did it again, harder, while still not hurting me.
It hadn't hurt at all? How--?
Most of the fear I felt was banished. I moved past the rest when he kissed my cheek. 

“
How do you feel?”

“
Good, if it pleased you, Sir?”

“
How many times have I almost made you come today?”

“
I didn't count...” I winced, guessing frantically. “At least four times. Five? I'm sorry, Sir.”

I saw him settle into Punishment-mode.
But then it went away?
“You'll know next time.”

“
Thank you, Sir.” I understood, smiling at him after he kissed my cheek again.

“
You don't have to be home until later, later this evening, right?”

“
However late you want me to stay, Sir.”

“
I want to set plans with you for this week, sometime, but I'm not sure what's going to happen tomorrow, at the meeting.”

“
Do you feel prepared for it?”

“
I've only got an hour or so of work left to do. After that, I'll be ready.”

“
If you want help--” I shook my head, knowing he wouldn't. “Let me know how it goes?”

“
I'll let you know, and I'll call you tomorrow night with an update.”

“
Thank you, Sir.”

“
About before,”Quinn moved so he could see me better. “Why did you ask if I wanted to smack you?”

“
Because I felt that you wanted to. I wanted to see if I could submit to it for you, Sir.”

“
Did I hurt you?”

“
You didn't have it hurt me at all. That was nice of you.”

His eyebrow rose. “You think the way I smacked you across the face was nice?”

“It was. Thank you, Sir.”

“
By now, you know I'm not mad when I punish you. Don't you?”

“
Yes. I know that.”

“
I will
never
hit you like that with any kind of anger.”

“
I trust you not to. Which is why, um... I think I can be okay if it hurts. A little. It's something you really like doing, isn't it?”

“
It was.”

“
Oh.” I felt my submissive side burn with determination, ready to be better at taking it for him. “It's not a limit for us anymore if you don't want it to be, Sir. I'll learn how to-”

“
That's not what I meant.” He groaned roughly, his hand going to the back of my neck. “You make me
want you
...”

-
Chapter 18
-

~
Chokehold ~

I
appreciated his call Monday, to know that his meeting had gone well.

What
had happened?

A
week passed without seeing him. Then another. When we talked, it felt different to me. The warmth in his voice was still there, yet there was something else... something that made me worry for him without knowing why. The days flew by, the nights slowly ticked away, but every Sunday, I found myself thinking, 'It's already been a week?' 

We
set plans for that weekend, but he had to be in New York for business instead. After that, time blurred.

With
the pressure I remembered him subduing, my submissive side resisted adding to it.
The distance that was growing between us made me worry, though more for him than for whatever we had started. That was the part I found most confusing. All of the scenarios I started envisioning ended with me being released as his submissive.
I ached to feel Quinn's hand closing over my neck, trapping the air in my lungs. Sanity would be welcome. There was nothing that brought clarity like skirting unconsciousness.

Lane walked past my bedroom, then backtracked when she saw me. I had been struggling not to rest my forehead down against the desk. That would be admitting defeat, something I wasn't ready to do yet.
             

“
Long week?” she asked, standing behind me to rub my shoulders.

“
A long couple of weeks. I'm okay. What's up?”

“
Grant's coming by next weekend. Is that cool?”

“
Of course. You know I've been wanting to meet him.”

“
How's Quinn doing?”

“
Well, I think.” Worry broke free before I could rein it back. “He's been abnormally busy lately.”

“
Are
you okay?”

“
Yeah, I'm just worried about him.”

“
I'm worried for you.” She massaged my shoulders more slowly. “It's almost been, er- It seems like it's been a while since you two met up. Nothing happened-?”

“
Not that I know of.”

“
Clara!”

“
What?” I leaned my head back and looked at her. “I'm really high. What's the matter?”

“
Oh. Nothing. You sounded really vague, almost depressed. Not like you, y'know?”

“
I'm-- I don't know what
this
is. It's like subfrenzy, but for him. I'm not sure I like it.”

“
What are you feeling?”

My body ached for pain, for the pleasure he could have me feel, but I found myself missing... strange things. I wanted to fall asleep with him again, feeling safe and warm in a way I didn't when I slept alone. It made me happy, writing while I listened to him typing, or talking, ready to do whatever he wanted when it was break time. It scared me a little, how much I missed him.

“Not, '
how do you feel about that?'
”

She
dug her nails into my neck without hurting me. “I can't be your psychologist. I'm your friend.”

“
I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.”

“
It wasn't
that
bad. What's going on, love?”

“
I'm
blah
this week. Moody, too, because Ben lost a big client.”

“
Oh no...”

“
It's no one's fault, which
is
really good, but nobody's happy that it happened. So then I think about s/m, but it brings me back to my worry for Quinn. I can't do anything with that yet, either. I'm getting
really
tired of feeling so helpless.”

“
Ben won't be down for long, love. Neither will you.”

“
Thanks. Yeah. All of this will be gone by tomorrow. Ben goes into workaholic-mode when we lose clients. It'll help distract me away from everything else, at least for a little while.”

“
Everything else that has to do with Quinn?”

“
On everything that brings a desire for pain. But, well,” I giggled and let it become laughter to release some of the stress,
“Rack's
isn't an option anymore. I can't go, even if it was.”

“
Why? What happened?”

“
Nothing happened. I wasn't banned or anything. I told Quinn I wouldn't.”

“
Why has he been so busy lately? What's going on?”

“
I know why he
was
busy. I'm not sure why he is now. He gave me a collar, so I trust he's not going to just disappear, but... I don't
know
. Something must have happened. Right?”

“
Quinn gave you a collar?”

“
I didn't tell you that?” 

“
You mentioned that he punched someone for you, but... no, that's new. You told me about your dinner out with him, too.”

“
It made me really nervous. I wasn't sure that it meant the same thing to him as it did for me.”

“
Him taking you to dinner?”

“
No, having him give me a collar. It's not just because he likes seeing things around my neck. He looked at me like I was his. Like I'm his,” I hastily corrected.

“
What does that mean, you're
his
?”

“
It's not just some sex game that we're playing. He's my Dominant. I'm his submissive, but not just when we're in bed.” I smiled, thinking about his office, about running errands with him, and the dinner we went to with Tony and Chloe. “The submission I feel for him is an always-there kind of thing. Right now, it's keeping me from making bad decisions.”

“
You really trust him.”

“
He knows that.” I couldn't make myself believe that he didn't.

My rational side, always wary of being hurt, kept asking me what would happen if I were wrong. When my desire for pain started to over-ride my submission to him... what would happen? I'd be ashamed of myself if I took pain from someone else, without his permission. I didn't want to have that conversation with him. It would be easier to make a clean break and start the search again... The pain that rose in my chest made it difficult to breathe.

“Do you want to see the collar?” I asked, taking refuge in polite, ingrained behavior.

“
Of course.”

“
Wow. It's really-” She froze and pointed to the two powder blue boxes in the drawer. “Clara? What are those? Who were they a present from?”

“
Quinn.”

The way she smiled made me nervous. “
No, I'm not wrong... There's no name inside--? D'you mind?”

“
No, go ahead.”

“
Oh boy,” Lane breathed out slowly, after she opened them.

“
He has really good taste,” I agreed. “I like them a lot.”

“
Whatever happened, I'm
sure
he hasn't disappeared on you.”

“
That's what I've been hoping. They're really good signs that he thinks of me as his, right?”

“
What?”

“
Something for around my wrist,” I explained, “for around my neck, even when we're together in public?”

“
I'm not sure. You'd have to ask him that. All I meant was, men don't buy jewelry like this for women they're not really interested in. Most famous jewelry companies have distinguishable colors, or boxes.”

“
... what? ...”

She leaned over me and brought up a website. “Isn't that the box?”

I stared, not meaning to scoot my chair away from the drawer. “What does that even mean?”

She
wrapped her arms around my neck, hugging me hard. “Why don't you call him and see what's going on?”

“
I did. Friday. Quinn says he's fine. He's always fine.”

“
Who does that sound-- Sorry.” I stopped pointedly staring at her. “You both got really close, really fast. That can be complicated, on it's own.”

“
He controls it. Why can't I?”

“
He controls what?”

“
Whatever he feels for s/m. I'm really impressed by it, insane as that might be.
”

“
Impressed by what?”

I shook my head, unable to explain. “
Part of me wishes I could control my submission like he controls his Dominant side. He needs to, to focus on work. I have more time to think about... things.”

“
How about you call him, to see what's up?”

“
I can't. Not like this, and it's too early.”

“
It's eight.”

“
I know. He works 'til nine, sometimes later.”

“
That's really, uh, sweet of you.”

I winced, which made her laugh. “You're a Dominant now, you tell me.
Where does one draw the line between submission and not being submissive? I can't find the line. Why?”

“
You care about him as a person, not just as your Dominant. You're worried about how he's doing, but because you think he's busy, you're not letting him know? That goes beyond submission, don't you think? You're really-”

“
I'm avoiding the inevitable, I know.” I fought the urge to rest my forehead against the desk again. “Quinn released his last submissive when he had work problems.”

I
took a deep breath and made myself to sit up straight. It worked, helping me feel calmer. The resolve took hold.

“
So I wait for a little while longer. That's the only option I can think of. It's the only one I want to think about.”

“
What have you been thinking about doing?”

“
After him, I can't seriously consider taking a male Dom or Top. Maybe a really good female Domme could help, but-”

“
I think we should go lingerie shopping instead, so you're prepared when he's not so busy.”

“
I've been feeling a little insecure lately, that's all.” Bright, vicious energy curled through me again. “Not anymore. Thanks for that. Time to actually do something tonight.”

She
hid her worry really well. “Exercise well, then. I just wanted to let you know about Grant...”

“
Door's always open, love.”

“
No problem. I'll order food in a bit. I know what you like.”

“
Thanks. My wallet's in my leather jacket. Use the card or cash for dinner. After that conversation, it's the least I can do.”

A week later, however, my masochistic side was forcing me to review my options. I had started to dread that Quinn
would
have me over, but only to say I couldn't be his submissive anymore
.
If only I didn't still want him so much...
It frustrated me that
I couldn't get him out of my head.
Was
I losing him as my Dominant?

As
the rush of panic waned, I heard an engine turn off, the front door open. Lane had gotten home with Grant. Sitting at the computer wasn't doing anything helpful for me, the same half-filled page had been on my screen for an hour. My mirror assured me I looked fine. Jeans, an over-sized shirt of Quinn's. I mentally groaned. So much for preparing to distance myself. My hair was still damp from my shower, but I didn't think anyone would mind.

“
Hey,” I said, breaking out of my hibernation, writing mode. “What's up, guys?”

“
Clara, Grant. Grant, Clara, my roommate.” Lane sat with him on the larger couch, her legs over his.

“
Nice to meet you.” His dark brown eyes widened when his gaze met mine. I liked how unshielded his were. “I think I've seen you performing at
Rack's
with... someone good, that's all I remember.
Was that rude to say?”

“
No, that wasn't rude.” I stared at him, feeling deja vu descend. “Thanks for saying so.”

He
was good-looking, my height, lean and spindly. His hair was styled professionally, shoulder length and rich dark brown, combed nicely behind his ears. When I made direct eye-contact with him, his gaze shied away, returned, then lowered.