The Dom's Dungeon (11 page)

He smiled
into her eyes before licking the throbbing nipple.
Her
back arched high, her arms held immobile, the sensation indescribable. As his
tongue circled the swollen peak, the pain mingled with pleasure until she couldn't
tell them apart.

“Brace
yourself
,” he murmured. The second came off, and oh
frak
, it felt as if her nipple had ballooned into a huge,
aching nerve. When he licked over the peak, a high whine escaped her.

A minute
later, he released the rest of the straps and helped her off the table. Her
knees buckled.

He caught
her, picking her up easily.
And carried her away from the
table.

She stared
up at him.

He'd had
her tied up and available but hadn't taken her. He hadn't gotten off.

I got off.

Mac picked
up a floppy-eared elephant and threw it across the yard. With a happy bark,
Butler flew in pursuit, snatching it up before it had a chance to bounce, and
pranced back to her, the elephant honking whenever his teeth pressed on the
rubber nose.

She still
couldn't get past the fact that she'd been horny and wet on Saturday night. God
knew she'd tried before—okay, maybe not much—but she'd forced herself to accept
dates in college. She'd gone out with men, had kissed men, and had even let
them touch her until she couldn't stand having their hands on her any longer.
No interest, no arousal, nothing.

But
with
Alex
.
She
blew out an exasperated breath and pressed a hand over her quivering stomach.
How had he done that to her? And
he
had accomplished it, not her.
Surely not because he'd spanked
her?
Her automatic denial faded when she remembered how he'd held her
down, how his hard hand had slapped her bottom, and how…strange…she'd felt.

Okay,
maybe the spanking had something to do with how she reacted to him.

But the
way he treated her had something to do with it also. He'd shown perfect control
over himself—and her.

Bouncing
with his excitement, Butler dropped the prize at her feet.

“What a
good dog.” She chose a duck from the toy box and let fly. Butler looked at the
elephant on the ground—his favorite, she knew—and at the duck soaring across
the yard. The duck won.

Mac leaned
against the patio post, feeling like she'd aged about fifty years. Too much had
happened over the past few days. Today—she'd spent today interviewing.
Yesterday, Sunday, she'd escaped the house early and spent the day and evening
sightseeing anywhere and everywhere she could think of.
Anything
to avoid talking with Alex.

Saturday?
Well.
She'd made an enemy, been attacked, been kissed.
And had her
first orgasm in well over twelve years.
Her first one
since she was a teenager and got herself there.
She wrapped her arms
around herself. Even the memory made her feel strange, as if she had turned
into a stranger to herself.

Whores don't get off.

I'm not a whore.

But would
that self-image ever go away? She'd only walked the streets of Des Moines for a
year, and although feeling like an eternity, that time was just a small portion
of her life. Then again, after the people in Jim's tiny town of Oak Hollow had
discovered her past, they'd looked at her with revulsion. So, in a way, that
one year had lasted many. Was it true that a person became what others thought
of them?

Thud
.
Dancing a little, Butler acted like he'd brought her the stars and the moon.
What a cutie
. She hugged the stocky body
and received a cursory lick on her neck before he stepped back, head lifted as
if to say,
I'm busy here. Stay on task.

She
laughed and treated him to his elephant again. Later, when he'd worn out her
throwing arm, she might be able to get him to snuggle against her.

Much as
she'd snuggled against Alex Saturday night after he'd helped her off the table.
He'd studied her face for a second, then picked her up and carried her to a
quiet corner and just held her. He'd talked to her, but she didn't remember a
word he'd said, just the sound of his deep voice.

Later that
night, she'd sat up in her bed and stared at the flowery wall illumined by the
nightlight she'd taken from the bathroom.
And remembered
again.
Alex hadn't gotten off.

That still
seemed the most unreal part of the event.

Butler
barked sharply, and Mac jumped. The Lab gave her an exasperated look and
pointed his nose at the elephant lying on her shoes.

“Sorry,
baby.” She took the elephant from Butler and put it into the toy box. “I'm
done. Can I bribe you with a dog cookie?” she asked, bending to stroke his
head.

At the
club, Alex had concentrated on giving her pleasure. That just wasn't normal.
What kind of a man was he? She straightened, shook her head, and ran right into
Alex, bouncing off a chest as solid as a concrete wall.

He
chuckled as he grabbed her upper arms to steady her. “Sorry, pet. I didn't
realize you hadn't heard me.”

She looked
up into his blue eyes. The ocean sounds from Saturday night seemed to fill her
ears, and this time she felt caught in a riptide, pulled helplessly…somewhere.
“Um.
Right.
We…we were just
playing.”

He smiled,
took her face between his hands, and kissed her gently. His lips still held
that tantalizing, velvety firmness.

When he
stepped back, she knew her heart had sped up.

Alex
stroked his thumb over her soft lips. Pretty little sub, all flushed and
confused. If she were anyone else, were a normal submissive living in his
household, he'd strip her down and take her right now. Maybe lash her hands to
the unobtrusive rings he'd bolted into the pillars, lift her legs, and…

He smiled
down into her big brown eyes and squeezed her shoulders instead, enjoying the
tremor that ran through her at his touch. He'd pushed her hard at the club,
taking advantage of how the attack had lowered her defenses and, even better,
her unexpected bout of jealousy. She'd responded beyond his expectations, but
he could see she was shaken to the core. The little sub had pain buried in her,
deep hurts and scars. His job as a Dom was to expose and help her deal with
them, but she—

“Why
didn't you stay with Cynthia?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts. “She's
beautiful.”

“A good
question, but first let's find something to eat.” He took her hand and pulled
her into the kitchen. “Margaret should have restocked the refrigerator today.”
And she had. The refrigerator held a pan of lasagna. Alex set the oven and
tucked the dish in, looking forward to the meal. Margaret made
a fine
lasagna.

Showing a
pleasing stubborn streak,
MacKensie
insisted they
make a fruit salad to tide them over until the lasagna could bake. She shoved
an apple and knife over to his half of the island and then started cutting up
strawberries. Her delicate hands handled the knife with terrifying competence,
reminding him that a veterinarian was also a surgeon.

Mac was
skillful, stubborn, assertive, and so insecure that she'd stayed away from the
house all of yesterday, coming in late enough that she could merely nod at him
without meeting his gaze. He'd given her the space and time to think things
out, and obviously she felt more on an even keel today.

“Cynthia?”
she reminded him, scooping her pile into the salad bowl.

“Cynthia
is beautiful,” he agreed.
“Clever, rich, and charming when
she wants to be.
She's also self-centered and”—he waggled the
apple—“rotten on the inside.” Her indifference to anyone's pain and problems
disgusted him.

“But you
were together?”

“'Together'
isn't the correct term.” He held a piece of apple to
MacKensie's
mouth and grinned when she gave the fruit a suspicious glance before accepting
it. Did she realize how much a Dom enjoyed hand-feeding his sub?

He
continued. “She knows that I don't get involved with anyone. As for dating her,
I topped her once at the club and served as her Dom at a few parties. She never
spent the night here; I've never entered her apartment.”

“Oh.” Mac
accepted another bite. “Considering how much she wants you, she surely put her
best foot forward. But you didn't date her long, so how did you know she's a
bad apple?”

Alex
smiled. Even a Dom could be blinded to a person's motivations, at least at
first, and in trying to avoid women just after his
money,
he'd ended up with Cynthia. In escaping from Cynthia, he got this little cat
with all sorts of problems, but who considered taking his money to be an
affront to her pride.
Definitely a leap up.

He watched
her cut up another strawberry, the blade flashing. Tiny hands, fragile wrists,
yet he could see the muscles in her bare arms. Her breasts were well concealed
under a white button-down shirt, her legs hidden under a tailored skirt.
Interview clothes.
So very tidy.
Time to muss her up a little and remind her she could be aroused.

After she
tossed the last fruit slices into the bowl, he grasped her around the waist,
enjoying the tiny gasp, and set her on a clean place on the island. Pushing her
skirt up, he edged between her legs.

“What are
you doing?” The pupils in her brown eyes had dilated, and her voice turned
husky.

He ran his
hands along her legs, over her firm ass, up her waist, and stopped just under
her breasts. “I wanted to remember how your body feels under my hands,” he
murmured.

“Alex.”
She caught his hands and held them in front of her. Her mouth firmed into a
straight line, showing the stubborn line of her jaw.

“More
worries, little sub?” he asked, expecting to hear the “no sex” objection.

“You don't
know me.
Not at all.”
Her small body tightened. “I'm
not a nice person either. You wouldn't like me once… Um, you wouldn't like me.”

So
many fears.
How did someone so competent and caring acquire
such self-doubt?
“
MacKensie
.”

She
stilled at his growl.

“Let me
tell you what I see, sweetheart. Your core”—he pressed his open palm between
her breasts, felt her rapid breathing—“the heart of you is sweet.
Loving.
Tender.” He smiled. Did she realize he'd watched
Butler suck her into throwing the chew toys for far longer than most people
would have tolerated? He'd seen the hugs and kisses and seen Butler's
adoration. Butler liked anyone who got past his guard and petted him. But he
reserved his adoration for a very few special people.

“I, of
course, checked your recommendations and records. You're incredibly
intelligent, with a fine education and a solid reputation as a vet.”

Her
fingers relaxed, and her eyes widened.
Surprise and…pleasure.
Did no one in her life compliment her? He no longer wondered if she'd
experienced abuse in the past; he just wanted to know what kind.

Childhood
pain seemed likely.
But that business with arousal…
Had she been raped? The way her body had tensed on the bench when he'd put a
finger into her vagina… Had she expected pain or humiliation?

No matter
right now. He'd pushed her at the club.
Time to go easy.
He pulled her shirt loose from the skirt and slid his hands under the shirt and
up her back.

She
inhaled, her muscles tensing, her spine straightening. Her hands gripped his
shoulders, her fingers digging into his muscles in her instinctive reaction to
a man's hands on her body. “We're not… This isn't a club or party,” she said,
her voice unsteady.

“You're
very observant,” he said. He was observant as well; she hadn't said no, and her
protest had been more for form's sake. She wanted his touch—and feared it at
the same time. So he ignored the rigidity of her muscles and simply pleased
himself, running his hands over her bared skin in a subtle reminder that her
body was available to him. Those toned muscles under silky-soft skin were a
delight to a Dom's hands. He continued, keeping his touch only on her waist,
never venturing near her breasts or under her skirt.

The tiny
hands on his shoulders relaxed, and her breathing slowed as the lack of threat
let her enjoy his touch.

Then, with
a smothered sigh of regret, he removed his hands, pulled her shirt down, and
set her on her feet. “Let's eat on the patio.”

* * * * *

A
week of interviews.
Could there be anything more stressful in the
entire world than having strangers grill you about anything and everything? Too
tired to climb the stairs to her room, Mac went through the house to the back.
She stepped out onto the patio and stretched, trying to relieve the knots in
her shoulders.