Re/Paired (Doms of the FBI Book 2) (18 page)

It wasn’t a lie, because she didn’t want this to ever end.

“I do.” He grabbed her hips and pulled her closer. “I’ll train you. You’ll figure out what you want from a D/s relationship, and then you’ll find someone who can give you what you need and treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

Then he devoured her lips, plunging his tongue between them to take possession of her mouth. The passion he unleashed was completely at odds with the coolness of his stated intention. She lifted her knee and wrapped one leg around him in an attempt to get even closer. She wanted him inside her, their skin slapping together as he held her down and found solace in her body.

But he tore himself away, reining in his baser instinct to regard her with icy eyes. “Get dressed. Pack an overnight bag. You’re staying at my place tonight.”

__________

Keith fumed at himself as he shifted into third and passed someone about to turn right into one of the many businesses lining the highway. He’d never meant to reveal so much about himself. He knew Kat too well to think he hadn’t whetted her appetite for making him her next project. She possessed a generous nature and a warm heart. If anyone she cared about was in need, she was the first one there to help them out.

He didn’t want to be one of her fucking charity cases. He’d long ago come to terms with the way his life had to be.

“Limits.” He growled the word at her.

She whipped her head around and regarded him curiously, but she didn’t say anything.

“You said you had a better idea about what you want from this training. I can’t give it to you if you don’t tell me what that is.”

In the glare of lights from the multitude of parking lots, he saw her scrunch her nose as if she smelled something bad. “I guess when I said I wanted you to train me, I was asking you, Keith, not you, the Dom. I really didn’t think there would be a difference.”

But there was. He put on a good face for her. With her, he could relax and be the person he wished he was. Dominating women tapped directly into his dark side. It was an outlet for the ugliness and bitter hate he harbored. She couldn’t have known that when she asked him to train her.

He gritted his teeth. “Now you know there’s a difference.”

She seemed unaffected by his grouchiness. He could hear the sound of gears churning in her brain, and he knew she was searching for a diplomatic way to make her point.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t like when you act like an asshole.” She paused, gauging his reaction.

He didn’t react. He couldn’t. She didn’t usually describe him using terms like that. When she’d called him out on his behavior that morning, it was the first time she’d hurled names. Of course, beginning last night was the first time she’d seen what a bastard he could be.

“I want to be treated as a person, a woman worthy of respect. You can tie me up and fuck me however you want, but you need to remember that I’m a person with thoughts and feelings. Sometimes I get the sense that you aren’t in your body when you’re with me. The look on your face just before you came on mine was cold and remote, almost hateful. You had the same thing going on last night when you wouldn’t take some of the clothespins off.”

They’d already discussed this issue. He didn’t see a reason to make the connection between his behavior and his description of the kind of Dom he was. She was a bright woman. Eventually she’d figure out he hadn’t lied.

“I only want you to be a Dom during a scene.”

He snorted. “You’re sure you want to be trained as a submissive? Because right now you’re about the farthest thing from submissive.”

“Asking for things doesn’t make me not submissive. Being silent about what I want makes me a doormat. I refuse to let you wipe your feet on me.” She sounded confident, even a little derisive, but the way she twisted her finger in the fabric of her shirt told a different story.

Keith had never once allowed a submissive to ask for anything. When he’d originally asked her what she wanted and she threw the ball back to him, he’d mentally categorized her with other submissives he’d kept. That had been a mistake, and he was only now realizing the magnitude of it.

Kat represented so many firsts in his life. He’d known from the start that she wasn’t a 24/7 kind of submissive. Dominating her was proving to be more problematic than he’d thought. Never once had he considered that she’d lay down the law. He thought she’d put up with him until she reached a breaking point, and then she’d never speak to him again. He’d live on memories and fantasies.

“No feet wiping. Noted.”

He hit the button on the garage door opener and pulled his SUV inside. Normally he’d make her undress before he let her in the house, but he had a feeling Kat would rebel. He reached into the backseat for her bag, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Keith, I meant what I said about the title thing. I can submit to you just as well using your name instead of a title I’m just not comfortable using. Maybe one day I’ll feel differently. Right now I feel like it puts an artificial barrier between us.”

Bullshit, she wasn’t comfortable calling him “Master.” She’d cried out his title and whispered it on a reverent breath. This was something else. He focused on her comment about the barriers. Using titles had always been a way to keep women at arm’s length. Kat had started out already close to him. No, it wasn’t the title that made her uncomfortable; it was the distance.

Moving slowly, he retrieved her bag and set it on his lap. Old dog, new tricks. He could handle this learning curve. “No titles. For now.”

She leaped on him, simultaneously pulling the bag from between them and tossing it into the seat she’d vacated. In the space of two seconds, she straddled him. He had a momentary glimpse of her smile before she peppered his face with kisses.

Nobody had ever done something like this to him. Keith stiffened under the force of her onslaught. He sought to control her with his hands on her hips, but she only rolled her pelvis forward in a sultry move that made his cock stand up and take notice.

A light feeling suffused his limbs. The strange sensation traveled up his body. “Happy you got your way, Kitty Kat?”

She stopped, her hands resting on his shoulders and her forearms draped against his chest, and regarded him thoughtfully. “I’m happy you’re open to negotiation. I looked up all these protocols, you know, and I talked to Darcy. Negotiation and communication are vitally important to the success of a D/s relationship.”

That light feeling took flight, replaced with a leaden sense of dread. A successful relationship didn’t end. This thing between them would eventually end, and Kat was going to get hurt. “You talked about this with Darcy? She’s going to tell Malcolm. A good submissive never keeps secrets from her Master.”

Kat shrugged. He couldn’t tell if she’d changed her mind about not wanting Malcolm to know, or if she didn’t think Darcy would say anything. “It was a theoretical discussion. Neither your name nor penis size was mentioned.”

Speaking of his penis, he shifted her back a little to ease the pressure there. “As long as you’re truthful, I don’t mind you bragging about my size.”

She giggled. “I can’t imagine how to do that without sounding like a bad porno film. And then we’d have to show it off. There would probably be a tape measure involved.”

Keith shook his head, but he was glad to see her in such a good mood. He’d been afraid that she might fixate on the idea of her stalker and remain tense the entire night. “Never going to happen.”

He slid one hand from her hip to her breast and gave it a playful squeeze. She closed her eyes, and her breaths came a little faster. Damn, but she did love breast play. Perhaps he would introduce her to his set of suction cups.

In the midst of his musings, she’d gone silent and still. When he lifted his gaze, he found her studying him again. She’d better not choose to use this moment to make him a project. He’d rip her clothes off, tie her to his spanking table, and stuff every hole in her body until she forgot about anything but the pleasure rioting through her system.

“Let’s go inside.” He tapped her hip, an indication she needed to move.

“Wait. One more thing.”

Christ. Here it comes
. He steeled his nerves. “Spit it out.”

“I prefer to swallow.” She grinned briefly. “Seriously, though. This isn’t all about me, or it shouldn’t be. You have fantasies too. I’m willing to role-play. Actually, I’m kind of excited about it.”

For all he’d fantasized, tantalized, or threatened, Keith had never once actually role-played with anyone. They’d all been down-and-dirty scenes. Plans for how to make it work played out in his head, not much differently from how he choreographed a raid.

“Okay. I’m not set up for what I’d like right now. How about I figure it out and give you the details later?”

She nodded. The self-satisfied smile on her face made his heart beat a little faster. She really wanted to do this.

“Tonight is all about pleasure.”

That was what he’d said just before he’d excused himself to the basement. Katrina checked the digital clock on his chest of drawers. Twenty-two minutes had elapsed, and now she heard the sound of his footsteps echoing up the wooden basement steps and vibrating against the closed door.

She felt safe here, in his house. Anxiety drained from her shoulders. Every second alone in his bedroom was a step toward a different kind of tension. Keith’s decision to bring her here was a good one. She hadn’t realized how on edge she was. She wouldn’t have been able to enjoy his company or the upcoming scene if they’d stayed at her condo.

The basement door rattled and opened. Then he started on the second set of stairs, this one carpeted, muffling the sound of his approach. She knew he could move stealthily when the situation warranted. That meant he wanted to be heard coming up from his dungeon.

He appeared in his bedroom door, a playful smile highlighting the sin in his eyes. Having just unpacked her toiletries bag, she stood in the opening leading from the bathroom, her hands clasped together in a false display of calm.

He grabbed her by the waist, lifted her in the air, twirled around, and pinned her against the wall.

Her crotch rested on his thigh, the only thing holding her off the floor, and he imprisoned her wrists by pressing them to the wall. Focusing on his eyes made it easier to regain her bearings. Her chest heaved with excitement as she tried to slow her breathing. His wicked grin let her know he liked knocking her off balance.

“Tonight I’m going to use strict restraint and a TENS unit on you. I’ll let you choose the flogger.”

The pressure of his thigh against her pussy made it throb in anticipation. Cream soaked through her thin leggings, a consequence of not wearing panties. She now understood the concept of strict restraint—she’d be bound so that she wouldn’t be able to move a muscle—but she had no idea what a TENS unit was. And she didn’t know enough about floggers to select anything.

She tore her attention from his lips. They hovered so close she could almost feel them. They were bait, a promise, incentive. “What’s a TENS unit?”

He kissed her, devouring her lips with tender possession. He ground his pelvis forward, dry fucking with small movements that made her lust for him even more. Heat bloomed, and she wanted their clothes out of the way. Just before she crossed the line from arousal to madness, he stopped.

“You’ll find out.”

The topic of conversation had fled her mind.
Find out what? Oh, the TENS unit
. “Will it hurt?”

“It could, but I won’t go that far. You should find it stimulating. Frustrating. Relaxing.”

Those descriptors didn’t seem to go together. “Frustrating and relaxing are diametrically opposed ideas.”

He grinned, a sloppy, lopsided look that highlighted his evil charm. “Frustrating you relaxes me. Eventually. The journey is positively orgasmic.”

And she’d be tied down, unable to move while he teased her body. “Are you going to gag me?”

“With my dick. Maybe. If you earn it.”

Her knees grew weak, and she felt every fiber of her being yield to him. She knew he’d make her cry again, but this time, she was looking forward to it. She didn’t know why, exactly, but she wanted to turn her every thought, her reason for being, over to him. “I don’t know how to choose a flogger. I don’t want one that hurts too bad, but that last one almost put me to sleep. I liked the floaty feeling.”

“Floaty with a little bit of bite coming up.” With that, he sank his teeth into her shoulder.

The heat of his mouth and the unforgiving pressure of his bite sent her fragile control into a tailspin. Her nerve endings short-circuited, and her legs liquefied. If he weren’t holding her up, she’d slide down the wall. She moaned, a low primal noise she’d never heard before.

He nipped a path up her throat, using his tongue to soothe away the hot sting. Then he devoured her mouth once more with his kiss.

The hands holding her arms dropped. She felt liquid, malleable and free. Unable to control the trajectory, she let her arms dangle at her sides. This lack of control only seemed to fuel the voraciousness of his exploration. Small bites stung her lower lip, and he sucked it into his mouth, easing the pressure and letting her know that she was completely at his mercy.

And she was. No thoughts of resistance or worry about logistics or the real world crossed her mind. She didn’t remind herself to call him by his title instead of his name, or think about the fact that he’d agreed to forgo that protocol. At her core, she accepted his dominance and reveled in her submission.

He enveloped her breast with his hot hand and kneaded the small mound. She marveled at how in tune with her body he was. Most men she’d been with hadn’t taken the time to discover how sensitive her breasts were. Keith had realized right off how much she enjoyed his touch there, and he used that pleasure to control her even more.

In a sudden spurt of controlled violence, he ripped her shirt away, pulling it over her head and tossing it to the floor. That, too, was uncharacteristic behavior. According to Keith, clothing didn’t belong on the floor. Ever.

Taking a chance, she did the same with his shirt. He stared at her for a long moment, his well-defined chest heaving, and a spark of tenderness glinted wildly from his eyes. She ran her fingertips over his solid abs and upward. His heart thundered a furious rhythm beneath his thick chest muscles. She paused there, fascinated by her effect on him.

Pinning her hips to the wall, he fell to his knees and pressed his lips to her stomach. Small stings punctuated the path of his affection as he made his way along the waist of her leggings. Inch by agonizing inch, he eased the thin fabric down.

She alternately rested her hands on his shoulders and ran her fingers through his short hair. Looking down, she watched his progress and admired the view. The taut muscles in his broad shoulders shifted and bulged as he fed her passion. For the first time, she noticed the smattering of freckles sprinkled across his skin. They were light and only appeared closer to his neck. Though she felt like she was moving through gelatin, she traced her finger from one small dot to the next.

He lifted her feet, one at a time, and removed her leggings. Now she stood before him, naked. He was the one on his knees. She accepted his sovereign right, and she felt power surge through her body. This gorgeous man desired her.

Wordlessly, he lifted one of her legs and brought it to rest on his strong shoulder. He eyed her pussy hungrily and licked his lips. She trembled with anticipation.

Last night he’d been rough, but she’d been primed so well that she’d climaxed quickly. Tonight he teased her with long, slow laps of his tongue. He paused frequently to draw his fingers through her wetness.

She arched her hips, trying to establish a rhythm or to encourage him to penetrate her vagina. Even one finger would bring welcome relief.

“You have the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen, Kitty Kat. Tomorrow we’re going to make it even better.” He pressed a kiss to her clit, rocked back on his heels, and stood in one smooth motion.

Leaning forward, he fucked his tongue between her lips, and she tasted the musky flavor of her juices. She didn’t know what he meant by making it better, and she really didn’t care. Right now, she wanted him to grab a condom and make good on the promises he insinuated.

“And you taste like heaven. I could lick you for hours. Tie you down and not let you move until I’ve satisfied this craving.” He spoke against her lips, breathing the words as smooth taunts, more promises. “Soon. You won’t be able to escape.”

Escape was the last thing on her mind.

“I’m going to take you to the dungeon now. Say your safewords.”

After two false starts, she cleared her throat of the passion clogging her airways. “Red, yellow, green.”

He backed away, giving her some space. “When do you use them?”

“When I need you to stop, adjust something, or let you know everything is all right.” She noticed there were no words to signal wanting more. Acutely aware of her nudity and her need, she lifted her gaze. “Keith, what about if I want more of something?”

His chuckle held a hint of devilry. “You can beg. I like hearing you beg. But that doesn’t mean you’ll get what you want. You’re not in a position to demand anything. You’re mine. Pleasure or pain, you take what I give, and you thank me for it.”

The inherent unfairness of this struck her wrong just then. At the same time, it thrilled her to no end. She was in his hands.
His.
Just like she’d always wanted.

He inclined his head toward the door. “Let’s go to the dungeon. When we get inside, I’m going to show you where to kneel. Whenever we enter the dungeon, whether or not we intend to do a scene, you’ll follow the same protocol. Kneeling tells us both you cede complete control to me, that you trust your body to me. It also tells me that you accept my rule in the dungeon.”

She nodded, knowing words weren’t necessary. She had yet to find a room that wasn’t his dominion, even at her place.

The door to the dungeon was the same as the interior doors in the rest of his house. Katrina had thought it would be heavier and soundproof. Only the lock on the handle marked it as different. The other doors didn’t have them.

“This only locks from the outside.” He inserted the key and rotated it clockwise. “I’ll never leave you alone inside this room, but the inside knob will open whether or not the outside is secured, so you won’t have to worry about getting stuck.”

He pushed the door open and stepped forward. She followed him to the center of the room and knelt in the place he indicated. She was dying to look around, but she fastened her gaze to a point just in front of her knees, the way he’d taught her. Luckily she didn’t have to wait for long.

“Rise, Kat. You may look around.”

She sprang to her feet and scanned the room. Most the equipment looked familiar or was easy to figure out. She recognized sawhorses, a Saint Andrew’s cross, a spanking bench, a Y-table, and a table that looked a lot like the one in her gynecologist’s office, maybe a little more comfortable. A closer look revealed that most of the equipment had been bolted into the cement floor. Above them, the ceiling had been left unfinished, and the high trusses had been reinforced with two-by-tens. Holes had been drilled into the additional support beams at regular intervals. In several places, chains had been attached, and they dangled from the ceiling.

“What do you think?”

She glanced at Keith, noting that his arms were folded across his chest. He was nervous about her reaction? She struggled for words that were honest and would set him at ease. “Parts of it are what I expected, but I’m wondering about a few things.”

He nodded, a curt movement, and his shoulders remained tense. “Ask.”

She looked up at the nearest chain. “What are the chains for?”

“Suspension, mostly. There will be times when I want to tie you up and suspend you from the ceiling.”

Heat pooled between her thighs at the thought. She knew he would make sure they both enjoyed the experience. She turned to him and lifted a brow. “I have no plans Tuesday and Thursday nights.”

The look in his eyes guaranteed that she now had plans.

She gestured to the far corner. “What’s the exam table for?”

“Playing doctor.” He kissed the top of her head. “My way.”

The thick leather straps attached to the table promised that she’d find her body secured to the table and her legs tied to the stirrups. “You do realize that no women have fantasies about the gynecologist’s office?”

His shrugged as if saying he knew something she didn’t. “Go lie facedown on the Y-table.”

It wasn’t difficult to figure out that the split part was for her legs. Katrina went to that end.

“No, the other end.”

She studied the table, trying to figure out why he gave that order, then remembered she wasn’t in a position to be analytical. When Keith gave an order, it was her job to comply. Immediately and without question. She lowered her body to the narrow, padded strip and prayed he wouldn’t torment her for much longer. The bench part was wide enough to hold her securely, but narrow enough to provide access to her breasts. Her feet dangled off the end she’d originally thought was for her head.

He opened the nearest cupboard and grabbed a few things. She couldn’t quite make out what he held. One looked like a blood glucose monitor. He set them on her back, and she gave up trying to figure it out. He went back to the cupboard, but this time she recognized the rope in his hands.

“Stretch your arms above your head.”

The table wasn’t wide enough to support her shoulders or arms, so she’d let them hang from the sides. Stretching her arms above her head was ungainly for the same reason. She clasped her hands together to keep them from slipping to the sides. Staying like that wouldn’t be possible. In this instance, the ropes would help her stay where he wanted.

But he apparently didn’t want her to remain that way. He took one arm and bent it so that her elbow dropped below the bench and her wrist was above it. “Stay like that.”