Dominance and Deception (29 page)

"Re-collaring first, then a scene. Tell me your safe word."

We both already knew it, though it was rarely used. But we were both keenly aware that if ever there was a time I'd need to speak it, it was now.

"Chemistry, Sir."

Though my lips obeyed his command, my mind was elsewhere. His mention of re-collaring me indicated a formal ceremony, rather than just placing it around my neck as if it wasn't a big deal, and I itched to move the schedule forward, to feel the weight of my favourite accessory against my skin.

"Good girl.” Kissing me softly, he drove the rest of my impatience from my mind for one blissful moment. Only one moment, though. “Soon,” he promised, and I sighed, resigned.

Soon
couldn't come soon enough.

Pierce

Over the next few days, I kept a close eye on my girl, monitoring the ease of her movements, her facial expressions whenever she sat or stood, how quickly she reacted when she needed to use her arms or legs. By Wednesday night, when I let myself into her apartment to find her dancing around the kitchen, simultaneously preparing food and moving to her deafening music, I judged her ready.

Not that I planned to tell her that yet. I had a specific scene in mind, and it was one I couldn't initiate until I was away from the apartment. So I restrained myself, not letting her push me past the limits of my control, although she spent a good portion of the night curled up in my lap.

I held out until my lunch break the next day. It was a rare quiet day for my team, and though we were supposed to be catching up on overdue reports, the overall tone in the squad room was boisterous. Santoro gave Layton a hard time about something he was buying over the internet, and Beaumont interjected with coolly amused comments at intervals.

Preoccupied with my own thoughts, I let them get away with it, cutting them loose for lunch at around one. When I was sure they'd disbanded and headed their separate ways, I left the precinct and drove to a place I hadn't been for a couple of days—my own house.

Walking into the kitchen, I inhaled the familiar smells of herbs and bread. I hadn't had much time at home recently, and I ran an absent-minded hand over the kitchen counter as I dialled Faye's cell phone number from memory.

She answered on the third ring, her words excitedly tumbling over each other. “Hey, Zach! You're not gonna believe what I just found on eBay—"

"Later, little tease."

She never answered the phone by calling me ‘Sir'—just in case it was another member of my team borrowing my cell for some reason—and by using my pet name for her, I was letting her know I was alone and free to speak unheard.

She fell silent, her anticipation transmitted through the connection by the slight, unsteady hitch of her breathing.

I kept her waiting for a couple of seconds, reinforcing in both our minds that I was in control. “How are you feeling?” I said finally.

"Good, Sir,” she said, without hesitation.

"Hmm...” I leaned against the counter, taking my time. “In that case, I've got a task for you."

"Anything."

I imagined her in her apartment, awaiting my commands, and resisted the urge to just head over there and give a few in person. That would come later.

For now... “I'll be finished at work at around six, then I'm gonna call your cell and hang up. That'll give you twenty minutes or so. When I get to your apartment building, I'll call up to it so you know I'm there. And when I walk through your door, little tease, I want to see you naked and kneeling for me."

Her breath escaped her in a sigh, the slight tremble in her words rewarding me. “Yes, Sir."

"Any questions?” I knew there'd only be one racing through her brain, and she voiced it uncertainly.

"Is this—? I mean..."

On any other occasion, I might have drawn things out a little before answering her question, tormented her a little. Now wasn't the time for that.

"Yeah, little tease. It is."

I could almost hear the broad, uncontrollable grin on her face. “I love you, Sir."

It had been too long since I'd really reminded her of my position as her Dominant, and with a quick glance at my watch to check I had time, I let loose a little.

"Where are you?"

"At the computer,” she said, volunteering no more information than necessary.

Good girl...

"I want you in the bedroom, now. Put the phone on the bed and undress, then lie down and tell me exactly what you're thinking."

Whispering acquiescence, she moved into the bedroom and I heard the faint sounds of clothing being shed. I closed my eyes, aware of my growing arousal, and knew I'd be a little later back to the office than I'd thought. I didn't give a damn.

"I'm here, Sir...” Faye's voice was slightly breathless and I imagined her lying there, pale skin against dark sheets, her mind fixed firmly upon me.

I waited, reminding her mutely that part of my order had yet to be followed, and she spoke softly, as if unaware of the power she held over me at that moment. “I'm thinking... that I want you to walk in here right now and fuck me, Sir. Just pin me to the bed and push inside me, and make me beg for permission to come..."

I gave a wordless growl as my cock begged for attention, my self-control tested by the images her words evoked. Being around her for the past week had been sweet torture—I'd known she'd be able to withstand a reclaiming with minimal pain, but still I'd forced myself to wait until the only discomfort she'd be in would be intentional.

"Where are your hands?"

"One holding the phone, the other on my stomach, Sir."

She knew exactly what was coming, and I could visualise her all too well—her half-closed eyes, her parted lips, her hardened nipples and the slick wetness of her pussy between her spread thighs.

"Put the phone on speaker and put it down."

I knew when she did—the sound quality changed, and there was a slight scuffle before the line settled down.

Before she could speak, I told her, “Now touch yourself. I wanna hear you."

My imagination filled in the blanks all too willingly as her first, soft moan reached my ears.

"Oh, God... Sir... I'm so wet for you... I want you so much..."

At her sounds of pleasure, my entire body cried out a protest that was almost impossible to ignore. Stubbornly holding back, I focussed on her, giving her calm instructions and forbidding her to come until I allowed it, telling her exactly how hard it had been to keep myself from taking her over the past few days.

When her frenzied breathing turned to desperate whimpers, I knew she couldn't hold back for much longer. I gave the order and she lost her fragile grip on composure with a satisfied cry, gasping and sighing as the aftershocks carried her. Listening to her, my cell phone held tightly against my ear, I dug my free hand into my thigh so hard it hurt, refusing to let myself join her, keeping the facade of my control in place.

Gradually, she calmed enough to murmur her thanks, and I ached to hold her, to watch her slowly return to herself as her limbs curled around me. For a few minutes I spoke quietly to her, making sure she knew I cared and reminding her of her orders for the evening. Then, reluctantly, I hung up, tucking my cell into my jacket pocket and making for the stairs.

I was already going to be late back to the precinct, but before I could even think of concentrating on work I had my own needs to take care of. The way my mind kept drifting to Faye this morning, I'd never make it through the afternoon if I didn't.

Faye

I spent most of the afternoon in a strange state, hovering between suspense and contentment. Pierce's call had taken the edge off my desire, but I knew it was nothing compared to what he had planned for that night. The time seemed to crawl by, and after spending most of it daydreaming I filled the final hour or so by changing the sheets on the bed and taking a shower.

When my cell phone rang, I was putting the finishing touches to my hair. Setting down the brush, I reached for it, but it cut off after the first ring.

Zach...

Feeling almost nervous, I reapplied my makeup—not too much, just enough to emphasise my eyes and lips. As I deposited the cosmetics back in their drawer, a sound jarred me—Pierce was buzzing up to the apartment, letting me know he was home.

Following his instructions, I shrugged out of my robe and went into the living room, kneeling within sight of the apartment door as I imagined where Pierce was right then. Entering the code to unlock the building door downstairs, taking the elevator up to my floor, walking down the hall to my door...

I didn't hear him approach, but that was nothing new. The man made a living out of being stealthy. But he didn't try to be quiet as he opened the door, stepped inside, locked it behind him. I knew better than to look up, keeping my gaze trained on the rug in front of me.

Noises. The rustle of cloth as he drew off his jacket and cast it aside. The jangle of his keys as he placed them on the table on the way past. His slow, even breathing, betraying none of the anticipation that was eating
me
up inside, though I didn't doubt he felt it too. The air was thick with tension, and I remained still with an effort, steeling my muscles against the urge to fidget.

His shoes came into my line of sight as he halted before me. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry, startled at the unexpected touch when he trailed his fingers through my loose, freshly washed hair.

"Good.” His voice was calm, controlled. It contrasted with my whirling thoughts so completely that I lowered my head a little more, gratitude at the praise sweeping over me. “Wait here. Don't move."

I didn't need to speak to signal my agreement. He
expected
obedience from me, and anything less was unacceptable. He moved on past me to the bathroom and the familiar patter of water reached my ears—the shower.

I stared at the deep pink scars that streaked across my thighs—shiny and new, healed and finally painless. Ugly, though, and unlikely to fade for years to come. I'd spent a lot of time worrying about them at first, not because of what they symbolised, but for vanity's sake. The skin of my upper arms and thighs used to be smooth, pale, unblemished. I knew I'd made a pretty picture, back then—flame-red hair contrasting with a canvas of sun-neglected flesh.

Now the untouched perfection of that flesh was gone. In its place were angry, indelible marks of cruelty and malice. Yet even so, my self-consciousness had slowly drained away. My Dom had kissed these marks, had stroked his fingers over them, and underneath the guilt I knew he'd always feel on some level, I'd seen only love. These scars were no more mine than the rest of my body. I belonged to him—completely, unconditionally, unreservedly—and for him I would bear the imperfections without shame.

The shower shut off and I sat in the stillness, my arms behind my back, waiting for him. It wasn't long before he approached me again, his feet and legs bare this time. As naked as I knew the rest of him would be.

"Now, there's a sight I've missed.” His voice was warmer, now, and my body responded to it immediately, my skin tingling. “A little tease, kneeling before me, naked and waiting for my instructions."

I bit my lip as his words fizzed through my bloodstream. I'd missed this, too—more than I could ever possibly say. When he took my hand and pulled me to my feet, tilting up my chin to allow me to meet his eyes, I couldn't help but smile.

A faint answering smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he ran his hands down my newly-healed arms with firm strokes, watching me carefully for signs of pain. I felt none, and I made sure he saw that. Even so, he dropped into a crouch to treat my thighs the same way, the touches businesslike for now. He'd played it way too safe, holding himself back from taking what was his for far too long. Now I bit back the urge to demand that he stop fussing, knowing it wasn't the time to get bratty.

Satisfied, he stood again, invading my personal space as only he could. One eyebrow rose as he picked up on my impatience. “Something to say?"

I swallowed, shook my head. “No, Sir,” I murmured.

"Tell me your safe word,” he said, purely to piss me off. Testing my willingness to obey him when he knew damn well we both knew the answer.

The anticipation was killing me, but that was okay.

"Chemistry, Sir."

"Again."

His eyes were amused, and all of a sudden I loved him for tormenting me.

"Chemistry,” I said, slowly and clearly.

"Don't forget it.” He ran a lazy finger down my throat, and my breath caught.

"I won't, Sir."

"Now, kiss me."

His lips were almost touching mine when he said the words, and I leaned closer to meet them, taking the small measure of control he'd given me. His hands gripped my hips, and he pulled me against his naked body, deepening the kiss, possessing my mouth. I ghosted a tentative hand over his chest, seeking permission to put my arms around him, and he gathered me closer without breaking the kiss, wordlessly granting my request.

The embrace lasted longer than he'd probably intended, and by the time he broke off and stepped back, we were both breathing heavily and almost ready to forgo the scene in favour of just plain sex.

But, of course, he was too stubborn to allow that. And I'd have been disappointed if he had.

I think.

Keeping a little distance between us, Pierce rested a hand on either side of my neck, his thumbs brushing gently down my throat.

"Now, this...this is missing something, don't you think?"

I tried to speak, but my voice was overcome by emotion. Instead, I nodded, and he gave a quiet laugh.

"Into the bedroom, then. Kneel for me."

I stepped back obediently, my limbs trembling a little as I turned and made for the bedroom. There was a certain spot, between the bed and the dresser, which I'd claimed as my own. I knelt there now, my arms behind my back, my head held high, my eyes lowered.

It didn't take long for him to follow me. In the past, he'd never shown remorse about taking his time—at one point, he'd left me to wonder for over an hour before joining me—but tonight he didn't draw things out. I'd been waiting for this from the second he took his collar from me, and he knew I couldn't take it much longer.