Claimed (8 page)

“You were supposed to leave an hour ago,” he told her. “It’s Saturday, Suzanne. Go home. You shouldn’t even be here.”

She pushed her glasses up on her nose. “I had paperwork to finish.”

The woman had no personal life at all, and for that, he felt for her. Before he’d entered the lifestyle, that would have gotten right under his skin, since he’d shift the obvious truth into a desire to make things better for her. “I do believe I told you that could have waited until Monday.”

“Well, it’s all finished.” She heaved a shoulder. “So, there’s no point talking about it.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. At one time in his life, such a refusal to listen to his orders would have ruined his day. He would’ve lashed out at her with his horrible mood and frustration that she hadn’t listened to him, considering it was in her best interests. He also would’ve spent the rest of the day pissed off because he saw the exhaustion—and loneliness—in her eyes.

The dungeon had settled that desire for him. He didn’t have to take care of Suzanne, nor did she have to listen to him, because he was not her Dom. Such a simple thought process, even if it took Dmitri a long time to realize why he needed the lifestyle, but that structure and sense of order gave stability to his life. Rules, he needed them, liked them, and strictly lived by them.

“Now, you will go home?” he asked.

“You as well, Mr. Pratt.” She dropped her arms, grinned with sass at him, and left his office.

He smiled after her, respecting Suzanne’s work ethic and amused by her sassy attitude. If Suzanne were to live the lifestyle, she’d without a doubt be a Dominatrix, since she’d verbally put him in his place often, which was the other reason he’d hired her. A submissive at his work spelled trouble. His sexual preferences and his public life were kept separate for one very good reason: to keep his lifestyle secret. The last thing he needed was a scandal exposing the dungeon and interfering with his job at the casino.

His cell phone ringing dragged him from his thoughts, and he reached for it on his desk. He looked at the screen and smiled, instant pleasure washing through him. He clicked the answer button and raised the phone to his ear. “Hello, Mary. How are you?”

“I see what all the fuss is about,” Mary said, sounding amused. “She’s lovely.”

Mary’s kind voice made him reminiscent about old times—she was the first submissive he’d ever met, and it always warmed him when she called. Now realizing her intent, he chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “What can I do for you, Mary?”

“I would’ve called sooner, but I was at a conference and only returned home yesterday.” The sound of a boat horn indicated that she was out on the water at Lake Las Vegas. “I wanted you to know she’s very sweet.”

“I’m training Presley and nothing more.” Memories of his visits to the artificial lake twenty-five minutes from Vegas filled his mind. He’d spent many hours with Mary and her family on the boat. “Why are you suddenly taking an interest in my love life?”

“I take an interest when you send me a little sweetheart during my lunch hour, on short notice, and ask for a rush on the results.”

He chuckled again. Clearly, Mary hadn’t changed in her pushy matchmaking ways. Dmitri had known that sending Presley to her would stir up a few questions. “I’m sure you have a point to make. Get to it.”

“No point,” she retorted. “Only saying I like her for you.”

“I’m glad you approve,” he muttered, then he turned in his seat to stare out the window behind him. The sun beamed off another casino—his biggest competitor—across the street. “Done?”

Her pause lasted far too long before she asked, “You will give this one a chance?”

“Mary,” he warned.

While he enjoyed his talks with Mary, his love life wasn’t a topic he wanted to share. Nor did he think it appropriate to talk about his agreement with Presley more than he already had.

“All right, I’m done.” She laughed softly. “But the other reason I called, I thought maybe we could get together for dinner.”

“Of course,” he replied, pleased that she wanted to see him. “When are you free?”

“Not tomorrow—I’ve got one of the kids’ Broadway shows to attend—but how about the Sunday after, would that work for you?”

It didn’t matter if he had plans; he’d make time for her. It had been almost a year since he’d last seen Mary face-to-face, and while he always talked to her monthly, nothing replaced being in her presence. “Dinner, my place, six o’clock—sound good?”

“Yes, that’ll do.” She hesitated again, and when she spoke next, her voice sounded rich with mirth. “Will your submissive join us?”

“Mary,” he warned again.

“Goodbye, Dmitri.”

* * *

On her knees, he owned her, his punishing thrusts slamming against her backside. His firm grip on her hips seared into her core, and she coursed higher and higher in the peak of ecstasy. His brutal slap on her bottom tore a scream from her throat, and the sheer force of her orgasm made her vision blurry as the warm, wet evidence of her climax slid down her thighs.

“What are you doing?”

Presley shot straight up on the couch and grasped her chest, her heart thudding. “Oh my God,” she snapped, spotting Cora standing near the hallway of their living room. “Make some noise, will you?”

Laughing, Cora dropped down on the cushion next to Presley. “Whatcha reading?” She snatched the e-reader out of Presley’s hands, examined the screen, and frowned. “You’re living the lifestyle now. You don’t need to read about it anymore.”

Presley squirmed against the couch cushion to sit cross-legged and glanced across the sunny living room to the wide-screen television against the far wall. Perhaps she’d taken the first steps toward the BDSM lifestyle, but she really hadn’t lived it yet, not until Dmitri took her into her first scene tonight. She still had no idea what it all meant for her, and she wanted to be prepared.

Cora still hadn’t moved and was obviously demanding an answer. Presley gave up on looking for an exit. “I’m researching.”

Cora’s nose scrunched. “Researching what?”

Presley did not want to admit it, yet Cora had been nothing but honest with her. Besides, from what Presley had witnessed last night in the dungeon, thoughts of her night ahead remained heavy on her mind. Hell, she’d masturbated once before bed, and those dark delicious sex acts she’d seen even consumed her dreams, which had led to her masturbating this morning, too. She was officially a mess and needed to find a solid place to land. “Um . . . what will happen to me tonight.”

Cora giggled. “Is that why you’ve been reading all day?”

At Presley’s nod and obvious wince, Cora placed the e-reader on the glass coffee table in front of the couch. “I thought you were doing it for fun. I didn’t realize you were
researching.
Honestly, girl, you can just ask me.” She patted Presley’s leg with a gentle smile. “What do you want to know?”

Presley sighed, not wanting to have this conversation but knowing she had no other choice. Her damn books weren’t giving her the answers she needed. “What will Dmitri do to me?”

Cora hesitated. “To be honest, I don’t know. He’ll decide the scene for you, but once you set your limits, he won’t exceed them. He might use a flogger, maybe bondage or a spank or two.” She shrugged, as if discussing toppings on a pizza. “The options are endless.”

Presley noticed the heaviness pooling low in her belly at those choices, though it was hard to imagine actually doing a scene. As much as she tried to place herself in the situations that she discovered in her books, she couldn’t. More so, she couldn’t imagine acting out those fantasies; her confidence had been wavering all day. “What if I screw up and do something wrong?”

“He’ll punish you,” Cora replied flatly.

Presley’s blood became ice-cold. Even in her books, punishment never looked enjoyable. While Dmitri had disciplined her, she doubted his punishments would be to send her to her knees. Some of the punishments in her books were brutal. “What will his punishment look like?”

“No clue.” Cora smiled, her eyes glinting. “Doms are creative buggers, so it’ll be something sucky. But you’re new to the lifestyle, and Dmitri will be softer on you than he would be on me.”

Didn’t that bring up an interesting thought? Part of Presley didn’t want to ask her next question because it seemed icky, but the other part of her—the curious part—couldn’t hold back. “Have you played with Dmitri before?”

“Never.”

Presley considered, trying to think up a good reason for that—even if it pleased her to no end that her friend hadn’t slept with Dmitri—but she came up short. “You’ve played with Aidan, Kyler, and some of the others, so why not him?”

“Not sure why.” Cora tucked her legs underneath her. “I did offer myself to him a couple of years ago, and he was sweet about it when he refused me.”

That didn’t surprise her. Dmitri seemed to have a sweetness under all his dominant touches and commanding voice. Heck, even Mary appeared indebted to him, and only someone of high quality could have that effect on others. “What did he do?”

Cora grinned, her eyes glossing over in a memory. “He spent a few minutes giving me some of the best compliments I’ve ever heard in my life. But he also said that because of external reasons, it wasn’t right for him to take me into a scene.”

“What external reasons?”

Cora blinked to awareness. “I have no idea, and he never went into more detail, but it didn’t matter. He was sweet enough, that’s all I focused on.”

Presley chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I would, too.” Nibbling her lip, she glanced down to her hands, which she was twining in her lap. “It’s hard to imagine anyone giving nice compliments over a
few
minutes.”

“That’s because you were with an asshole.” She snorted softly, dragging Presley’s attention to her. Cora’s eyes blazed. “You haven’t been treated right, is all, but don’t let Steven leave that impression on you. You’re amazing and sweet, such a good friend, and Dmitri will see those qualities in you.” She grinned. “And reward you for it.”

Presley laughed, though tension filled her chest. Cora might see those things, but the truth was, maybe she saw stuff others didn’t. If she’d been all those things, Steven wouldn’t have strayed, right?

At the same time, she realized that the agreement with Dmitri came as a blessing. The rules were clear, his role even more obvious, and there was freedom in that. The perfect recipe for her new life: no messy emotions and all kinky sex.

Cora turned on the couch, pressed her back against the armrest and pulling her legs up underneath her. “So, what else is worrying you?”

A thousand things
. Presley figured it best to oust them rather than fret. She needed to be prepared, even if she doubted she’d ever be
prepared
for what awaited her tonight in the dungeon. “What if I don’t like what he’s doing?”

Cora gathered her hair over one shoulder and twirled a strand on her finger. “Use your safe word, and he’ll stop. He might talk to you about it in the scene if he thinks he can push you past your worry, or he’ll go on to something else and maybe have you add it to your hard limits.”

Easy enough, but . . . “Will it make him angry if I use the safe word?”

Cora shook her head, dropping the hair from her finger. “That’s why the safe word exists. To keep you safe. Club Sin is big on having a safe word, and if a Dom ignored it, he’d get the boot, no questions asked. But Dmitri will read your clues, and I doubt you’ll even think of pulling a safe word. He’ll be careful and won’t take you so far that you’d even consider it.”

While that relieved Presley—it meant she wouldn’t get in over her head—she wasn’t settled. Giving up complete control to someone else was scary, no two ways about it, and once she filled out the limits section of her agreement tonight, she’d have no say in what he did to her. “What if I want him to do more of something? Can I just tell him?”

“Ah, no.” Cora snickered. “Never ask for anything, because you won’t get what you want, and he’ll punish you for topping from the bottom.” At Presley’s obvious confusion, Cora added, “Which means you’re giving him orders while pretending to be the submissive.”

Right. Dmitri had said to her, “At Club Sin, you are the submissive and are treated as such.” Presley concluded that bossing
him
around wouldn’t be a smart move on her part and instantly pushed the thought from her mind. She hesitated a moment, then got right to the deeper concerns: the insecurities that had been plaguing her all day. “What if I get nervous?”

“He’ll comfort you.”

Okay, terrific, however . . . “How will he know what I want and don’t want?”

Cora shifted on the couch, bringing her feet up and wrapping her arms around her knees. “You’ll set out your limits, and he won’t overstep them. Besides, Dmitri is an amazing Dom—he’s been living the lifestyle a long time—and he’ll know what you need in a scene.”

Good and all, but her mind still worked a mile a minute, and worries made her voice sound clipped. “What if I change my mind? Like I thought I wanted something but I decide I don’t like it.”

Cora’s brows drew together as she rested her chin on her knee. “Use your safe word.”

Presley’s muscles tensed as thoughts of her under Dmitri’s command overwhelmed her. Hearing of his experience didn’t help much, considering that not only would this be her first scene, but she’d slept only with Steven. Compared to Dmitri, she lacked any skill at all, or so she assumed. “What if I’m not enough for him? Or I’m doing it all wrong?”

“Deep breaths, girl, you’re overthinking this.” Cora took her hand and squeezed. “Dmitri will tell you what he expects from you. He’ll lay it all out, so stop stressing.” Her head tilted and her expression softened. “He’s one of the best Doms I know. You’re lucky to get not only one night with him, but more, until he thinks you’re trained. There is no one better, honestly.”

Presley wished she could switch off her head and listen to what her body told her, but an ugly thought grating her all day had spilled from her lips before she could stop herself. “What if he doesn’t like me as a submissive? Like I’m not good at it?”