A Dominant Man (46 page)

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Authors: Lena Black

BOOK: A Dominant Man
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“Who was that?”

“Banks. I asked him to pick up food on his way back.”

“You shouldn’t do that. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“I pay him to be bothered. He just dropped Chase and Maya off at your place, so he shouldn’t be long.”

“He dropped them off at my place? Together?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, I suppose not,” I reply,
trying to feign an undaunted demeanor, but even I can hear the uncertainty in my voice.

“Good.”

“I should get out of these clothes. They’re binding.”

“Keep the dress on.

“Why? It’s tight,
” I softly whine.

“I have a plan for
you and that dress. Keep it on,” he commands sensually.

“Can I at least take off my shoes?”

“No.”

“Ok. I’ll play your kinky, depraved game.”

“Color me depraved.”

I put my hands on my hips and tilt my head to the side. “So what do we do until
Liam arrives with the late night grub?”

He grabs my forearm and pulls me into him, planting his strong, urgent lips on mine. I throw my arms about his neck and lean into him. I allow his kiss to sooth and arouse me, send me soaring through the clouds. I’m glad he doesn’t stay mad at me for long because I hate fighting with him.

His hands run softly up and down my back and rear. I slide mine into his hair and massage his scalp with my nails. He seems to take pleasure in it because he groans appreciatively. His competent hands latch onto my ass and knead roughly. My head is swimming, and my body is aching. I need him, but I know Liam will be here soon, and I gradually break away, pecking light kisses across his face.

“I love you, Elle.”

Finally back to Elle.

“I love you, Damian.”

Chapter Twenty-three

 

Dominating Mr. Hunt

 

W
e sit on the couch eating our burgers and fries, washing them down with refreshing, sweet root beer. I’m savoring the tasty, late night treat, but I want out of my bondage wear.

“You and Brooke having lunch together makes me uncomfortable,” Hunt comments, but he doesn’t look at me, his focus remains on his half-eaten burger.

“I know.” I spot where he’s going, but it’s nonnegotiable. “What if we had met by accident, on the street or at work? Would you feel the same?”

He glances over at me and replies, “I don’t see how you met her changes the circumstance. She would still be my ex, and you would still be my girlfriend. How you met isn’t the issue, it’s whom you both are.”

I look away, disappointed by his lack of empathy.

“So, it’s purely a possessive thing. Even if it means I have someone who understands what I’m going through, you won’t allow it.”

He pinches my chin between his skilled fingers, turning my face toward his, forcing me to look into those hypnotic eyes.  “I understand what you’re going through. I was there. Why don’t you talk to me?”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“This is true. You and I love one another.”

“No, I mean it isn’t the same thing, because you don’t know what it’s like to be dominated by Hunt.”

“Are you unhappy with our arrangement?”

“No, of course not, but you can overwhelm me, and it’s nice to have someone who understands. Plus, I feel comfortable with her. She’s someone I would be friends with even if you weren’t in the equation.”

“This complicates things.”

“Yes, a bit, but I promise I won’t tell her anything you told me in confidence. Who knows, you may not even come up.”

“Look what happened with the last thing you promised me.”

I sigh and shake my head. “I thought we were over today.”

“Hardly, but I apologize.” He takes the last bite of his burger, drinks a large swig of soda, and tosses the wrapper back in the bag. “Since you won’t budge on this, I suppose we can come back to it another time. Instead, we can talk about your confession earlier.”

“I told you no,” I huff.

“You can’t tell me you tried to kill yourself and not expect me to be curious about the details. Don’t you understand that hearing you confess you would’ve rather been dead kills me? What if you had succeeded? Don’t you realize what it could’ve meant for us? I would’ve never met you, and then where would I be?” He tosses his hands over his face and rubs vigorously. “What if you attempt it again?” he mumbles from his hands, and his eyes fly to mine. “What the fuck would I do then, Gabrielle? I won’t live without you.”

I hadn’t considered the possibility of how my suicide attempt might affect him or us. I never had to before.

“Woulda, coulda. But I’m not dead. I’m here with you, where I intend to stay. I did it because I was scared and alone, or so I thought. I’m not alone anymore. I’m completely surrounded by you. I would never kill myself knowing what it would do to you.”

“Would you do it if I wasn’t with you? Would you do it if I hurt you?”

I take his hand from his lap, holding it in both of mine. “No, I wouldn’t. I’m not the same girl anymore.”

“Why? How? When?”

“Before I met Walker, I was in a bad place. I made great strides with fixing my issues, but I was severely depressed and terrified Nicholas was going to come find me once I was back in the city. I was getting ready for an evening out with Chase when I received a call from
him
. He threatened me, told me he was going to find me and finish me off.

“I was petrified out of my mind, and without thinking, I downed a bottle of Vicodin. Chase found me like always and forced me to throw them up. He had to bust down my door to get to me. That’s why I gave him a key, so he could get to me whenever I needed him.”

Hunt studies me for a moment then speaks softly, “You told me you never heard from him again. Did he come find you?”

“No. I think it was a last attempt to keep me under his thumb. I didn’t lie. I said I never
saw
him again, and I didn’t.”

“Semantics. Let me guess, no charges were filed.”

“No.”

“Jesus, Gabrielle.” He curls his upper lip, obviously disappointed in how I choose to handle the situation.

“I told you I was a different person. I was weak of mind, no self-worth. I had no evidence. What was I supposed to do?”

“I’m sorry, angel. I…I’m angry with myself for not being there for you. I wish I could go back, find you, and save you from everything. I would give anything to protect you.”

I slide close and wrap my arms around his carved shoulders, setting my head on it with my face nuzzled into his neck. I inhale a long breath, smelling his musky scent, and kiss him.

“You can’t change what happened to me. I wouldn’t want you to. I know it’s hard to understand, but I wouldn’t be who I am. I wouldn’t have found you if things had gone differently. I would go through it again if I knew you were waiting for me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s true. I would walk through the fires of hell to be with you.”

“You already did.” He scoops me up and cradles me in his lap, his forehead tenderly pressing against mine. “From this point on, I will never, ever let anyone hurt you.”

I thrust my hands in his hair behind his head and yank his lips onto mine, forcefully invading his mouth with my tongue. He growls and comes at me with a voracious tenacity. I lick the opening and bite down on his bottom lip, tugging harshly.

He tosses me onto the couch and pounces me, pining my body into the soft cushions. His massive form hovers over me, shadowing me. He breaks away abruptly and gazes at my face, into my eyes. He doesn’t speak. He carefully studies every line and crease on my admiring face.

“I want to try something. I think it could be healing for you.”

“What?” I inquire sweeping my finger over his dark, arched brows.

“I want you to dominate me.”

“I don’t think I heard you. Can you repeat that?” I ask with a bemused look in my wide eyes.

“I want you to dominate me. I want to be your sub. Obviously, this wouldn’t be a regular occurrence, but tonight I want to belong to you. I want you to take any hurt, rage, frustration you harbor and let it out on me.”

I feel the look of horror spreading across my face.

“I could never do that to you.”

“I’m not asking you. I am still Master. I command you to do as I say.”

“We said we would discuss options in the bedroom. I need to agree to it, and I refuse.”

“Gabrielle, listen to me.”

“Do I have a choice?” I interrupt, staring down at my body wedged between him and the couch.

“No…Three things brought me to this conclusion. The first is your past. I believe I can teach you to harness the pain and control it. It’s a healthy outlet for you to express your emotions. The second is this morning when you came charging into my office screaming and demanding answers. I was upset with you, but extremely aroused. Then you slapped me across the face, and I went wild. The satisfaction I received was immense. I wanted to bow down at your feet and allow you to do as you will to me.”

He caresses my nose with his. “The third is the moment I saw you wearing this dress with those shoes, I knew I wanted you to be my Mistress…Dominate me.”

Even when asking to be my sex slave, he’s domineering.

“Ok,” I reply. “Go upstairs and prepare for me. I want you to arrange a blindfold, gag, and riding crop on your bed, then stand in the center of the room naked in the submissive stance and wait.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He rises and quietly heads upstairs. As soon as he’s out of sight, I grab a pillow and scream into it.

I don’t know the first thing about being a Mistress. I don’t even know what I’m going to do to him. How can I inflict pain on him? Purposely anyway. What am I going to do...? Oh, shut up, you whiny baby. This man is offering himself to you, an opportunity to heal, and you don’t know? Of course you do. It’s in you. Now, get your ass up there, and I’ll handle the rest.

I rise off the couch, close my eyes, and breathe, allowing my dark side to emerge and take control. I sense the darkness sweep over and seize my body, my mind, transforming me. I open my eyes, but they’re heavy with desire. I am no longer Gabrielle, obedient sub. I am reborn into Gabrielle, Dominant.

I take my time getting to him. I head into the kitchen, pouring and sipping on a glass of sweet pineapple juice, leaning against the counter, casually assessing my surroundings. I finish it, placing my cup in the sink, and slowly make my way to him.

I saunter into the dimly lit bedroom where Damian stands, positioned as I expressed. His head is tilted down, hands clasped behind his back, and legs spread slightly, well-carved body exposed. He is fully aroused.

I spot a plethora of toys and gadgets neatly laid out on the bed, more than I asked for. I pick up the touchscreen pad off the side table and select Of Verona’s ‘Dark In My Imagination’.

I snatch the riding crop and prowl up behind him. I slide the flap of the black leather plated crop up his spine. His muscles clench at the contact, and I saunter about him, studying every flex.

“I gave you very specific instructions, and you couldn’t follow them. Did I not make myself clear?” I ask sternly, snapping the riding crop across his broad back. He remains motionless, quiet. “Answer me. You may address me as Miss Gabrielle.”

“Yes, Miss Gabrielle, you did,” he says in a staid, deep voice.

“Then why didn’t you follow?” I slap it across his firm butt cheek.

“I wanted you to be prepared, Miss Gabrielle,” he replies in a gentle voice. “I want to please you.”

“And you will,” I growl, and his breathing hitches.

I swagger in front of him.

“Look at me,” I order, and he obeys. I’m startled by the softness of his bottle green eyes. The aggression normally beaming from them isn’t there. He’s in his submissive state. “I want you to undress me, only the dress.”

He walks around me and gingerly pulls the zipper down. He slithers his fingers under the halter strap and lifts it over my head. I jolt at his touch. Even when I possess the power, he manages to keep his own.

My dress falls to the floor and pools around my strappy-heeled feet. I step out of it and turn toward him, so he can admire the black lace corset and matching thong. His eyes never leave mine. “You may admire.”

His eyes hungrily scan my body while I stand before him, holding the riding crop, staring him down and smiling seductively. “You may speak freely.”

“My god,” he breathes.

He drops to his knees, clasping onto my calf, kissing up my thigh stridently. His lips drag across my sensitive flesh, and for an instant, I forget my place. When I remember, I snap out of it and order him to stop.

“Forgive me,” he replies.

“You must learn to do as I ask. Why do you disobey?” I slowly shake my head in disapproval. “I want you to stand at the corner of the bed and hold onto the post with both hands, legs spread shoulder width.”

He stands and struts to the post, grasping it so tight his knuckles turn white. He still obtains that virile male presence. He’s meant to be my Master, not the other way around. But I’m going to give him what he wants and pray this will give me the healing I’m realizing I still need. My damage is mirrored in him, and I finally see myself clearly.

I come up behind him and take a deep breath.

“Ready?” I ask with a shaky voice.

“Do as you will.”

I raise my arm and come down weakly.

“Come on, baby. Let it out. Let him go.”

Nicholas flashes through my head in a disorientating whirl of terrifying images. The memories flood back in a rush of fear and self-revelation, the abuse, the rape, the control. Damian no longer stands before me, only Nicholas offering himself up on a silver platter, anticipating the torment he once inflicted upon me, and I’m more than willing to give him a taste of his own medicine. The rage inside me builds and boils until I explode.

The next thing I know, the riding crop flies high into the air and comes back down onto his sacrificial flesh with a thunderous snap. I raise my arm again, and again I whale on him with everything I have. I repeat this violent act in a continuous flow of thrashes across his firm ass and wide back.

“YOU SICK SON OF BITCH! YOU FUCKING COCKSUCKER! YOU RUINED ME! IM GLAD YOU’RE DEAD! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!”

I don’t know how long this goes on, or how many times the crop has scorched his flesh, but when I come flooding back, I find Hunt before me, back and rear covered in bright red triangular welts, and I drop the torture device. I back away from him and scream at the top of my lungs, dropping to my knees. Tears burst from my eyes, and I cup my hands over my face.

“I fucking hate you,” I weep out softly.

“Angel?”

He scoops me up, clears the toys off the bed with a sweep of the arm, and lies us across the mattress. He wraps himself around me as I wail fiercely. I let everything I’ve been holding onto for years go.

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