In the Zone (23 page)

In that moment, she understood something important. It wasn’t all about masochism. The mental exploitation of submission really did matter to her. Clarity struck her. That’s why she’d been bored and restless at work. She needed the exquisite combination of submission and masochism to make a scene connect for her.

The recognition shifted something inside her, made her understand how much Master Nathaniel meant to her.

Mindful of the recent write-up and her role at the club, she forced away her personal thoughts and focused on playing her role, kicking, moaning, and begging for mercy from her temporary dom. Beneath her stomach, she felt his erection grow.

Finally, a couple of long minutes later, the beating was over. Her pussy was still dry.

“You took that well, sub,” he said. “You’ve pleased me.”

He helped her to her feet.

She stood there, a bit wobbly. “That was quite the experience, Sir.”

“I’d like to see you outside of the club,” he said.

If she’d have met him a month ago, she might have agreed. “I’m afraid I’m attached.”

He rose. “If anything changes, please call me.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said. “I will.”

She went back to the dressing room to clean up.

Both scenes had been good. The second dom had been heavy-handed enough for her tastes. But she was completely unmoved. She thought of the satisfaction she’d received from kneeling for Master Nathaniel, waiting on his pleasure.

Somehow she made it through the night.

She wondered what it would be like to drive home from the club to his place instead of her empty apartment.

For the first time ever she recognized how lonely her life was.

She wanted someone to come home to.

But at what cost?

She flipped on a light and sat down at the kitchen table. She moved aside her notebook computer and took out the pictures once again.

He was right. The collar did look good.

And he was right about other things too. Maybe it was time she learned she could count on someone other than herself. She might not be a traditional sub, but being Master Nathaniel’s sub was different.
He
was different. They could create something unique. If she were brave enough.

It was late, nearly midnight, but she grabbed her phone and dialed his number before she could chicken out.

Fucking finally.

Nathaniel answered on the first ring.

He’d been waiting for three days for her phone call. Stubborn woman. Stubborn sub. “My house,” he said her without any other greeting. “Twenty minutes. You remember where I live and how to get here?”

“Yes, and Sir—”

“You’ll be punished if you’re late.” He hung up. Just in case, he texted his address. At this time of the night, she could make it from her place in ten minutes, fifteen at the most. He’d been more than generous with the extra five minutes for her to prevaricate.

This was her final test.

If she showed up, she was his. She’d wear his collar proudly.

If not, he’d move on.

He went into his bedroom and opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out the box with her collar in it.

He’d had it custom-made for her.

The red leather was soft and supple, something she could wear every day without it chafing her skin. It had three D rings affixed so he could leash, bind, or tether her as he saw fit.

He’d even had a tag engraved, saying PROPERTY OF MASTER NATHANIEL STRATTON. Before he attached that to the front ring, he wanted her permission. If she refused, he’d hang it from one of her nipples.

He turned on the front porch light, and he left the back door open just a crack in invitation.

He waited impatiently in the kitchen.

The first ten minutes dragged.

The next five were interminable.

He paced. Twice he picked up the collar and the tag from the counter before placing both on top of the refrigerator.

He’d thought this through.

No woman had ever responded to him like she did. No woman had ever cracked his veneer. He wanted her here when he got back from the Middle East. He wanted to redden her rear for infractions, either real or imagined.

He’d never been much of a sadist, but the idea of satisfying her energized him. Turning her on turned him on.

She insisted she wasn’t a sub, but he knew better. A woman without those tendencies did not respond the way she did to his natural dominance. A militant woman would twist his balls for ordering her to her knees. Not only did Alani kneel, but she’d licked his balls. Yeah, she was a submissive. And it seemed she was finally ready to admit it.

Two minutes later, she pulled into his driveway.

He drummed his fingers on the side of his thigh and expelled a breath.

Until this moment, he’d had no idea how much he’d doubted if she’d show, and how much it mattered to him that she did.

Damn it all to hell. He was in love with the wench.

Totally. Completely. For the first time in his life in love.

He hadn’t anticipated that the feeling would tear him up, making it feel as if his insides had been run through a meat grinder.

She mattered.

They
mattered.

She sat outside for at least a minute, pushing the limits of the time he’d allowed. He wondered if she was still waging an internal battle or if she were hoping to be punished.

An internal battle, he decided.

The silence between them had been punishment enough.

To be spanked, she had to behave, and she would know that.

He folded his arms across his chest and spread his legs. Waiting. Waiting. She’d have no idea that he was torn up inside.

Yesterday, he’d notified AJ and Marcus that he intended to have Alani. Both men had been supportive. AJ volunteered to organize a bachelor party—any excuse for alcohol and women. Marcus had extended his good wishes and several pieces of advice: pay intimate attention to all the nuances of the relationship, keep it real, keep it honest. Nathaniel appreciated his friend’s words, especially since Marcus waded through his own pain to offer the wisdom.

Nathaniel had offered to buy Marcus a drink. Marcus had refused, saying he’d talk about Karyn eventually, but not anytime soon.

They’d been friends too long to respect his request for privacy.

He and AJ had kept Marcus after the club closed and forced the ugly truth out of him. Despite the fact she wore a collar and a tattoo, Karyn had found someone new. Unknown to Marcus, she wasn’t happy when he’d surprised her with the trip, so she’d purchased a ticket for her other lover. When he’d seen the two playing in the pool together, he’d confronted her. She’d explained she was in love with them both and tearfully pleaded with Marcus to accept Louis as a third in their relationship.

He’d refused, and Karyn had chosen the more mild-mannered man.

“Never let Alani hide,” Marcus had said before killing the last drop of his fourth beer.

“Trade ’em all in on a new server,” AJ had added sagely.

“A new server?” Marcus had asked.

“Computers are way less complicated than women,” AJ had replied.

Nathaniel had decided to take Marcus’s advice.

He heard Alani’s car door close.

According to his clock, she had fifty seconds remaining.

A few seconds later, she knocked lightly on the door. She didn’t wait for an invitation before pushing it open.

His cock hardened when she crawled across the threshold.

She was impossibly beautiful with her long hair flowing around her shoulders. Her compact body was strong, made for his dominance.

God, he wanted to be inside her tight cunt. He wanted to hear her call him Master.

She cleverly used one of her feet to close the door, and then she continued into the room. When she reached the middle of the floor, she knelt up.

She spread her legs wide, and he saw she wore no underwear. Her short skirt barely covered her cheeks. She wore a lacy camisole beneath a short jacket, and he noticed the color of her garter belt matched her new leather collar.

She placed her hands on her thighs and cast her gaze at the tile floor.

He silently regarded her, appreciated her.

She hadn’t walked through the door to greet him as an equal. She’d shown up submissively. He’d spend years rewarding her courage, if she’d let him. “Look at me,” he said.

She did.

“Why are you here?” he asked before he surrendered to the temptation of drowning in the depths of her rich brown eyes. She could have anything she wanted from him, if she only asked.

“I scened with a new dom at the club.”

He clenched his back teeth, fighting back the instinctive jealousy. He and Marcus had discussed Alani’s place at Zones. Nathaniel knew she’d have to participate in occasional scenes, but he preferred she didn’t. “And?”

“He was a sadist, and usually that kind of paddling would arouse me.”

“Usually?” He was glad, for the man’s sake, that he’d used a paddle instead of his hand on Alani’s bare skin.

“My pussy didn’t get wet, Sir.”

“Go on.”

“I have been fighting the truth.” She hesitated.

He waited.

“No man has ever turned me on, made me respond the way you do. It’s not just that I’m a masochist; I know that now. A lot of doms have beaten me, but I’ve never experienced this kind of emotional connection before. Sir, it’s…”

“It’s?”

“The combination of submission and masochism that I need. Until you demanded that of me, I never got where I wanted to be.”

“Thank you for your honesty.” He didn’t take a single step toward her. “Until I met you, I had never loved a woman.”

She looked at him, her eyes unblinking.

“I want you to wear my collar.”

She continued to look at him.

“I want to be your dom, your Master.” He unfolded his arms. “I want the opportunity to love you.”

“You—”

“I want your submission.”

“Can we go back to the part where you love me?”

He crossed the room and crouched in front of her. He took her chin tenderly between his thumb and forefinger. “I love you, Alani Dane.” He smelled the tang of her arousal. That no other man did that to her was heady stuff. “Tell me you love me.”

“
Kipona aloha,
” she said. “Deep love. I love you, Sir.”

He kissed her soulfully, and she responded completely.

“How soon are you leaving?”

“We’ve got some time left.”

She nodded.

“After this, I’ll mainly be working stateside. I know it will not always be easy for you.”

“I’m fairly independent, Sir.”

“For a sub,” he amended.

“Your sub,” she said. “Collar me, Sir.” She leaned forward just a bit. “Please.”

She’d had days to ponder what she wanted, to consider the implications of a relationship with him. “I’m a stern dom,” he warned. “I want to be clear that you know what you’re getting into.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Sir.”

He believed her, especially after their discussion that first night in the bar at Zones. She’d agreed to a relationship in part
because
he’d be gone. “I’ll expect you to move in while I’m gone. You can break the lease on your apartment, or you can sublease it, or we can continue to pay if you need the security of keeping your own place. It’s your choice. You can hire a moving company or whatever you see fit, but you and your stuff will be here when I get back.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I am currently renting this house.” Until now, until her, he’d never wanted roots. “If it works for you, I can buy it. Or we can look for something else.”

“I like this house,” she said.

“I like it when you’re agreeable.”

“I’m mostly always agreeable, Sir.”

That
was his Alani.

“Now will you collar me and fuck me for the love of God?”

He raised a brow. “Did you just order me to collar you?”

“No, Sir. I asked. I begged.” With an alluring, irresistible smile, she added, “Please, Sir.”

Spankable vixen. He fetched the box from the top of the refrigerator.

He crossed back to her and opened the box in front of her. “I had this custom-made for you. I expect you to wear it if you’re awake, unless you are in the shower.”

She nodded.

“I’d prefer if you wear it in public, but that is your discretion.”

“I will wear it at all times.”

He pulled out the collar.

“What’s the other thing, Sir?”

He showed her the tag.

She swallowed. “Would you like me to wear that too, Sir?”

“I would.”

“I will. Proudly.”

He left her long enough to go to the garage and crimp the ownership tag onto the front D ring. His cock throbbed against his pants. It’d take only a few strokes for him to ejaculate. He had to be in her now.

Back inside, he told her, “Lift your hair.”

She did, her gaze locked onto his face.

“Tell me again what you want?”

“Please, Sir,” she said, her voice surprisingly strong, “allow me the privilege of wearing your collar.”

“I will treasure you always, Alani,” he said, reaching behind her to fasten the leather strip into place.

“I will honor and obey your wishes, Sir.”

“At least most of them?”

“I will do my best, Sir. And I’m certain you’ll correct me if I make a mistake.”

He stepped back to admire the way she looked. The red was perfect. The sturdy D rings tantalized.

“Thank you,” she said. “Now will you fuck me, Sir?”

“When was your last orgasm?”

She paled.

“Alani?”

“I had a dream about you, Sir. When I woke up, I was horny.”

“Answer the question,” he said quietly.

“My last orgasm was this morning.”

“You masturbated? Even though that’s strictly off-limits?”

“Sir, it wasn’t my fault, I was thinking about—”

“Did you or did you not willfully touch yourself?”

She dropped her head. “Yes, I did. Sir.”

“The playroom. Now.”

She dropped onto all fours and crawled to the playroom. Once there, she knelt up. She was learning quickly.