Surrender to Fire: Maison Chronicles, Book 3 (5 page)

She’d gotten a text from Ian letting her know that nothing out of the ordinary happened at work on Friday and that he’d stopped by her apartment to check her mail. Nothing there either.

Cam looked around the lobby for any sign of Kat, then checked the time on her phone. Not too early, but she still had a couple of minutes. She settled into one of the plush hunter-green chairs in the lobby, tucking her feet under her. Her phone vibrated in the pocket of her hoodie and she grabbed for it, on edge and waiting for some kind of bad news to arrive. She didn’t trust that the threat letter was an isolated event and her nightmares last night had brought back all her worries.

A new email. She toggled to the program, sinking against the chair when she saw it was from Shawn.

SUBJECT: I hope you’re behaving

Fury blinded her. Though she wanted to chuck her phone across the room, she opened the message instead. Nothing. Just the subject line. He’d probably meant to send it to his current submissive. She bit back an ugly sneer, not wanting to be that person. After all, she had been rethinking their relationship for months. While his quick replacement of her burned, it was more a blow to her ego than a betrayal or abandonment. Besides,
behaving
would have had her on hands and knees, scrubbing or stain removing or polishing something in the house. And wasn’t a spa day a hell of an improvement on that?

That was how Kat found her, fuming at her smartphone and digging through layers of emotion to figure out which ones she actually needed to tangle with. At that point, Kat was a welcome distraction. On their way to the dining room, Kat asked her about small details concerning the cabin—Was the water pressure sufficient? Did she find the furniture comfortable?—which kept her mind off weightier issues.

The downstairs hallway was brighter than the last time she’d visited, or maybe it seemed that way because she wasn’t being led around on a leash, with Shawn trying to hide his more timid nature behind a mask of bravado. Still, it flashed her back to that weekend. The turning point in her relationship with Shawn, as far as she was concerned. It was the first time they’d actually been D/s 24/7 and by Sunday night, she’d been crawling up the walls. Her sweet Dom had turned into a little tyrant, replacing the crop with a scrub brush and her favorite paddle with a Brillo pad. The intervening months had only reinforced that caught-in-a-cage feeling, but she’d told herself that as long as she was pleasing him, she was satisfied.

When they reached the end of the hall and entered the dining room, Cam was relieved not only because she was at Maison Domine without a partner, but because the room was empty. She wanted to say goodbye to the scene—having it in her face via a happy group of practicing Doms and subs was not what she was looking for.

The same chef she remembered from her previous visit, a joyous, smiling man, took their orders and, with a wink, promised their food would be out soon. Kat always got served personally, which only added to the fine quality of the food itself.

“I really can’t thank you enough for setting me up in the cabin this weekend. And for letting me come a day early.” She paused, her throat going dry. A sip of her water allowed her to forge ahead. “I received a threat on Thursday, a letter blaming me for Indigo’s book…” She couldn’t say anymore without crying and the situation was embarrassing enough as it was. She didn’t need to compound it with tears.

Kat gave her hand a no-nonsense pat. “You are very welcome. I am glad to help out.”

“Well, it really is perfect. And I know this afternoon’s massage will only improve the situation.”

A crafty smile tugged at Kat’s lips. “I don’t suppose you have anything planned in the meantime.”

Uh-oh. She tiptoed around that answer. “I had planned on reading. You have a great selection of books in the cabin.”

Kat’s head tilted in acknowledgment. “There is something I could use your help with. And you can, of course, say no, but you would be doing me a big favor.”

Laying on the guilt. Though she’d stopped going to Catholic Church in high school, guilt always did her in. She truly wanted to aid Kat any way she could, even though she might regret this particular favor. “How can I help?”

“In addition to adding the cabins, I have started expanding the Maison Domine amenities. We’ve got more spa treatments, iPads in the rooms and classes from some of the premier BDSM educators in the country.” Her stomach sank. She could see where this was going, as predictable as an amateur mystery. Kat continued, an amused pout on her lips. “Our instructor needs an experienced submissive to assist him in today’s lesson.”

Yeah, that’s what she’d been afraid of. Cam tapped her fingernails on the tablecloth while she thought. She hadn’t done any kind of play in a long time, but one final scene could be good closure. But she probably wouldn’t be able to put on a very good show for the audience. As Shawn had reminded her all too often, she didn’t react like a sub should when serving her Master. No subspace, no losing herself to the chores—or the punishments. “What’s today’s topic?”

“Temperature play.”

That was a new one for Cam. “What’s that?” Before she could get an answer, the chef brought their plates, the irresistible smell of bacon and pancakes wafting around the table. He set them down and gave her a wink. “Enjoy!” he said before leaving them alone once again.

Her stomach growled, eager for food, but neither she nor Kat moved. Kat’s level stare wore her down. “Fine. I owe you. Now, will you tell me what the heck that is?” She crunched into a strip of bacon, her eyes closing in bliss at the crisp, thick-cut perfection.

“Temperature play is exactly what it sounds like—applying hot and cold to your body.”

The bacon turned to ash in her mouth. “He’s going to burn me? No way, not doing it.”

Kat’s laugh pulled her back from the edge of incredulity. “Not hardly.
Warm
and cold, I should say, nothing scarring or permanent or painful.”

“I don’t get it.”

Kat took a delicate bite of her egg-white omelet and swallowed. “Shawn was not much for the more physical aspects of BDSM, was he? Not that there’s anything wrong with being so purely service oriented, but one cannot forget about the mental aspect of submission. Quite selfish, if you ask me, since it was clear your needs lay elsewhere.”

“I’m not a submissive and I won’t be submitting to anyone. I’ll provide a warm body for the lesson, though.” Cam caved and tasted the pancakes. Light, fluffy and almost good enough to cure her grumpiness.

“I will take it!” Kat seemed far too satisfied with herself, but Cam didn’t want to tear apart her mood at that juncture. Instead, she focused on her breakfast and set this demo business aside for later. She’d deal with it when she had to, no sooner. Despite her resolve, the pancakes sat heavy in her stomach.

She finished off the bacon, then called it quits. “So what time does this whole thing start?”

Kat looked at the slim, elegant watch on her wrist. “About twenty minutes. Just enough time to get you caught up!”

Cam blanched. “Twenty minutes?”

“Indeed.” Kat rose from the table, then held out her hand for Cam. “I will walk you through the lesson and get you set up.”

Chapter Five

Fifteen minutes later, Cam found herself face down on a massage table, her hands and feet gently bound to the corners, a blindfold over her eyes and her hair clipped off her neck. Last time—the only time—she’d been on one of these, Shawn was punishing her for not assuming her rest position fast enough. After he’d tanned her ass and she’d safe-worded, he spent the night chastising her lack of pain tolerance, while she polished his boots. He hadn’t punished her with impact play since that night.

She shivered. It was not one of her fondest memories, though the intervening time had dulled the searing feeling of inadequacy.

Kat had draped a dark sheet on the table, which was nice as she didn’t have to squirm against the cool plastic underneath, or stick to it when she sweated midscene. Hell, she was starting to glisten already, between the hot overhead lights and the nervous anticipation coursing through her blood.

Cam breathed deeply, trying to focus on the moment and not the past. Kat had told her what to expect, but even that knowledge didn’t help. It was nothing she’d had experience with, but Kat assured her the instructor, Master Damien, was an expert and wasn’t looking to hurt her. He just needed a canvas for his demonstration.

A door opened and Cam jerked her head up before remembering she was wearing a blindfold. No help there. She listened, instead, to the murmur of excited voices. The occasional
hiss
of chain or
clink
of cuffs told her this was the audience. Still no Master Damien.

With the onlookers came eddies of cool air dancing across her bare skin. She’d almost forgotten she was topless on the table, which made her feel even more vulnerable.

At least she’d been able to keep her pants on.

She picked out a dozen voices, give or take, while she ticked away the minutes. Where was this man? She tried not to judge, but it seemed awfully unprofessional to show up late to his own show. She just hoped his technique didn’t suffer from the same affliction.

A door opened, behind her this time, and the room erupted in applause. Two sets of footsteps walked the stage, stopping by her side. An evocative, dark fragrance drifted to her, like walking through the menswear section of an upscale department store. It made her think of expensive suits and the men who made them look just as good on as they did off.

“Thank you all for joining us today for our first in a series of educational lectures.” Applause, along with a couple of cheers, greeted Kat’s opening words. “As you all know, we practice a lifestyle that offers endless opportunities for learning. I, for one, do not think I will ever stop gaining knowledge about techniques, management of submissives and self-discipline.

“Today we’re playing host to Master Damien. While he’s taught around the country, this is his first visit to Maison Domine. Let’s give him a warm welcome.” This time, the female contingent whooped and cheered, drowning out the men. She caught a playful smack here and there, some titters of unrepentant laughter and the grumble of male voices. She guessed this guy was good-looking. Didn’t make a difference to her, but gleaning bits of information about her surroundings was calming her down.

A warm male hand landed on her back and she jumped. The hand made long strokes up and down her back, soothing away her goose bumps. “Thank you for the warm welcome.”

That voice… It reached into her brain and hit the On switch. Cam missed the content of his speech, instead feeling his words dance on her skin and burrow underneath, heating her up from the inside out. It was a voice made for dark nights and erotic torture, low and raspy. A villain’s voice, but a sexy one, like Benedict Cumberbatch or Alan Rickman.

The weight on her back shifted to her hair, stroking through her curls until she wanted to purr. Then it was gone. The shifting air stole his scent and his body heat, throwing her back into the present.

Silence had descended on the room. Little shifting noises reached her, but no words. Not until Master Damien started speaking again. “Temperature play is not like impact play, where you’re building up to greater and greater pain. That can be done, of course…” a couple of knowing chuckles and longing sighs came from the audience, “…but that’s not the primary goal. Hot and cold are visceral sensations and trigger deep instincts in a submissive.”

His hand returned, rubbing more vigorously along her back, heat building until she shifted under his touch, as much as the restraints allowed her to. Her whole body lit on fire as the heat seeped into her limbs.

Then, shards of ice followed, radiating from one spot low on her back. She gasped and tried to twist away. Her nipples hardened from the cold, then it was gone.

She went limp, tensing again when he shifted and air blew across her lower back. “Part of the beauty of temperature play is body confusion.”

Hot flesh, hotter than before, seared her back, only to be replaced with something damp and icy. All over her back the sensations traded off until she couldn’t follow them any longer and gave up trying to separate them. She danced underneath his ministrations, aching for his next move, yet equally anxious about it. “Your skin’s nerve endings can recognize hot and cold, but when you switch between the two often enough, you will confuse her mind until she can’t tell the difference.”

Cam lost herself, floating on each touch—hot or cold or both, she couldn’t tell. Together they lifted her away from that room and into something more primal where nothing mattered beyond that moment, where a low moan worked from her mouth when his attention shifted to her neck. She’d always loved to have her neck kissed. It never failed to turn her on…and though his lips weren’t touching her, this situation was no different.

Fire, then ice, sent fingers of arousal crawling down the front of her body, twisting her nipples into hard points. Her clit vibrated with every breath and her pussy contracted, aching to grip something solid.

It all stopped, like a bandage being ripped off. She gasped and reached for him, a silent plea not to stop, but she was locked in place, blind and confused and so turned on she couldn’t think straight.

That voice filtered into her ear. “Okay, sweetheart, tell me your safe words.”