The Submissive's Secret (What's Her Secret?) (2 page)

I shook my head a little in disbelief. I hadn’t heard him right. I’d heard what I’d wanted to, and in reality he’d probably said he
had
to let me go.

That our contract was binding.

“Are you all right?” he asked, tilting his head, eyes narrowed in a way I’d come to know as concern.

I cleared my throat. “Please say that again, Sir.”

“I don’t want to let you go. Didn’t you hear my slip earlier? What I’d said?”

I thought back to the start of our conversation.

“He saw you come in, had the urge to get up and meet you straight away, to greet you like a lover…”

“I…it didn’t register,” I said. “I thought it was just part of the game. We always meet like this, talk like that. I just didn’t…”

He smiled wider, still a soft curve, but the sight of it mellowed the butterflies’ flight from frantic to gentle. I felt less coiled, but it would take a while before I calmed completely. Our conversation had taken a turn I’d only dreamt about and I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. I knew what I
wanted
to do—fling myself off the stool and into his arms—but doing so in here, with other people as witnesses, wasn’t something I thought I could do. It had to be private, didn’t it, a moment like that.

“I’ve had the advantage,” he said, “of having taught other subs, of knowing that emotions born of trust may well have nothing to do with love. But with you… Ah, my beautiful sub, it’s been so very different.”

His voice, had it really cracked? Had his accent become thicker?

“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered, pulse fluctuating madly in my neck. “I can’t quite believe—”

“Believe it,” he said. “If you’re willing, I want to collar you. I have the burning need to make you mine, to
show
that you’re mine. However…”

He ran his thumb across my chin, a back-and-forth motion that set those wings to flapping faster inside me. Just a slight touch, a simple touch, and he had me wet, wanting to do anything—
anything
—he asked me to. No, I couldn’t be without him. Not now. We’d done so much, gone so far.

He doesn’t want to let me go.

I was flooded with that knowledge then and battled to remain in control. “However…?”

“I needed to be sure you knew what you wanted. If you’d have told me you looked forward to being free in the lifestyle after our year had ended, so be it. I wouldn’t want to stand in your way. But collaring. It’s a big thing, as I’ve told you. It’s very real, very binding.”

“I understand, Sir. I want what you want.”

He nodded then dipped his head. The kiss he brushed onto my lips was so light I could be forgiven for thinking it hadn’t happened. But they burned, those lips of mine, the fire streaking from them straight down to my cunt. We had a connection, me and Jaska, one I couldn’t imagine sharing with any other man.

“You must understand,” he said, “that a little kiss like that, with you, could send a man off kilter.”

I smiled, my eyes watery. I blinked to clear my vision, not wanting it distorted so I couldn’t see his face clearly. I wanted to take in every micro-expression that flitted across it, to savor this moment, to allow myself to fully understand that his offer of one year had perhaps extended to a lifetime.

“It’s the same for me, with you,” I said. “I can’t imagine kissing anyone else.”

He traced his thumb over my lips, and I went with instinct and dashed my tongue out to lick it.

“And that,” he said, “is exactly why I love you. Why things are different with you. The other subs waited to be told to do things like that. Whereas you… My girl, you are such a perfect match for me.”

“The contract,” I said. “It doesn’t apply anymore.”

“No, it does not. I have another. Here, in my suit pocket. Just in case, you understand.”

I nodded. He’d been unsure, then, hadn’t let himself believe I could love him any more than I’d thought he could love me.

“When will I sign it, Sir?”

“In a moment. When we go to our room. I just need to look at you first. For a moment, so I can…”

“Can what?” I blinked again—damn those prickling tears—and swallowed.

“So I can take it in, that you’re still here, that you want what I want.”

He’d revealed something to me of which he was perhaps unaware. Although a Dom, he still faltered, was still unsure at times. I had thought, because he’d always been so strong, so in control, that he had every eventuality covered. I realized that I had so much more to learn. I’d forgotten that underneath the somewhat hard outer shell he’d presented to me, he was a person underneath.

A man. With feelings.

Feelings toward me.

If I wasn’t so mesmerized by his eyes, by the swipe-swipe-swipe of his thumb, by his unsteady breathing, by that beautiful tweak of his lips, I would have lifted one hand to pinch myself.

Chapter Two

Diary, October 8th

Last night wrung me out emotionally, and I was glad we hadn’t entered play. It wouldn’t have been the same. Jaska had said we should take some time to go through the new contract, for me to fully understand what he required of me and what I should expect from him. I’d been ready to sign it whatever it had contained, but as usual, he’d been right. Emotions were dangerous things, he’d said. They clouded judgment and made you do things you wouldn’t ordinarily do.

He’d explained about collaring before—had explained every aspect of the lifestyle in the eight months he’d been teaching me—but had gone through it again so things were clear. Then he’d confessed he’d already bought a collar. Just in case, he’d said, and had smiled sheepishly, reminding me once again that he had emotions, feelings that would present themselves more and more in the coming months and years.

It was a relief to know that in four months I didn’t have to say goodbye unless I chose to. That our time together was never-ending as long as that was what we both wanted. In our room he’d confessed—his voice a whisper that had held a tremor, his hand suffering much the same as he’d placed his palm to my cheek—that he’d never been in love before. That this was all so new to him that he’d been having a difficult time getting to grips with it.

I’d known hearts could melt, mine had done so with him before, but in that moment? My God, its solidity had disappeared and had become a liquid mass that churned and jostled inside me, a great wave that threatened to take out the butterflies.

I’d left the club, not in a taxi arranged by him, as was our usual ritual, but in his car. He drove a sleek Mercedes, black exterior, tan leather inside, and it had spoken volumes of who he was, that he had a pretty penny or two. I hadn’t seen the car before last night, knew nothing personal about him except that he worked in an office in the city. I knew him for him, plain and simple, and perhaps him falling for me had been because of that.

I most certainly wasn’t after him for his money.

He’d dropped me home, walked me to my doorstep like a gentleman, and kissed me as we stood on the step, me on tiptoes so my mouth could reach his.

I don’t have to wait until next Friday to see him now. It’ll take some time for me to get used to that. You know, seeing him most nights instead.

I’ve thought it before, but God, how swiftly life can change.

* * * *

The air was a little chilly. I’d forgotten to turn the heating up a bit before I’d undressed and knelt in the middle of my living room. Still, it was too late now. The time to kneel had come, and I wasn’t going to get up for anyone or anything.

Unless it was for Jaska.

With my hands clasped behind me at the small of my back, me resting on my haunches, head bowed, I did as I’d been instructed and thought about last night and what it meant for the future. Jaska had said that I’d need this time of meditation, to make sure I knew what entering that new contract with him entailed. It was simple, the rules set out clearly, and if at any time I was uncomfortable, I only had to say. He’d always encouraged me to speak up, to tell him what I wanted and needed, otherwise how would he know?

Having been denied orgasm last night, and me denying myself all week in anticipation of seeing him, my need for release—for him to touch me, lick me, whip me, hurt me—was now bordering on painful. My clit throbbed, and as I clenched my internal muscles to try to stop desire building, my cunt seeped wetness.

If only he were here now.

Instead of thinking about the contract, I let myself float to other things, visuals that would torment me, make me want to come. Our past filtered into my mind, of how, when I’d first walked into the club—an obvious newbie playing at being an experienced sub—he’d been the only one to approach me. The only Dom without a sub that night.

Had fate played a hand?

We’d spent the evening in the bar, him asking me what I expected from my visits, from a Dom, should one decide to take me on. I’d been instantly attracted to him, so much so it had caught me off guard. Something had hummed between us, the air going fuzzy with need and want, desire and so many other things my head had spun. He’d ended the evening by offering me a chance to be taught by him, sending me away to think about it, and that if I was still willing a week later to meet him there, at the same spot, then we would begin.

Nerves had gripped me all week, but I’d returned. Oh, yes, I’d returned.

My phone rang, jolting me out of my trip down memory lane. It could only be Jaska. I glanced at the screen, the phone in front of me on the hardwood floor. His name was displayed in white font against my screensaver background, a coil of silver chains. I’d taken the picture in our club room, the chains having been discarded on the floor after Jaska had taken them off my wrists and ankles. They’d made me think that I might like to see them again, but I wasn’t sure whether our session had been the only one where we’d use them.

As I’d taught myself, I leaned forward to press the answer button with the tip of my nose. Once in position with my hands behind my back, I never wanted to unclasp them until the hour session was up. Jaska had asked why I did that, and I’d told him it was a self-imposed rule that I wanted to maintain, just to see if I could.

With the phone always set to loudspeaker before I began these sessions, I said, “Hello, Sir.”

“Good morning, pet.”

My stomach rolled, and I closed my eyes to better indulge in the delicious sensations coursing through me—sensations only his voice could produce. My skin prickled with goosebumps, and my clit expanded, flickering with a furious beat that sent me lightheaded.

“You’re in position,” he said—not a question, never a question. He knew I was, that I wouldn’t lie.

“Yes, Sir.”

“And you’ve been giving our new relationship some thought.”

“I started to, Sir, but my mind drifted.”

“To?”

“When we’d first met.”

“Ah. So we’ve been thinking along the same lines today. I trust they were happy memories?”

I sensed the hope in his voice and once again realized that he was in uncharted waters, what with him not having been in love before. I felt for him. For someone usually so in control, it must be difficult to have his emotions wrenched like this, to want to remain a Dom, all he’d ever known, but at the same time experience all the joys love had to give, freely and without restraint. Without the rules.

“The best memories,” I said. “And how were they for you, Sir?”

“The same. I was thinking…” A crackle sounded, as though he’d shifted position and his stubble had rasped against his phone.

The thought of that stubble grazing my cunt had me snatching in a sharp breath.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir. That sound, it had me thinking things.”

“What things?”

“Your stubble. On my cunt.”

He laughed, low and throaty. “Oh, those kinds of things. Are you desperate?”

“A little. More than a little. I want…I want what I didn’t get last night.”

“Would you like me to allow you to come?”

Oddly, I didn’t. “No, I want to wait. Until I’m with you.”

“Good girl.”

“What were you thinking, Sir? You’d said you’d been thinking.”

He paused for a moment, then, “Ah, that. I’d been thinking of seeing you earlier than tonight. Not waiting. But if you’d like to wait I—”

“No.” I blushed at my fast reply, at being so rude as to interrupt him. “No, Sir. If I can see you before this evening, that would be better. I’m…struggling.”

“I see. Then you must stop this session and get dressed. I’ll drive over to you.”

“The club. It isn’t open.”

“We won’t be going there.”

My stomach churned again. “Where will we go?”

“To my dungeon. In my house. It’s about time you saw it. I’ll be there in half an hour. Is that enough time, pet?”

“Yes, Sir. Yes, it is.”

* * * *

Outside my house, Jaska veered his car toward me at the curb, then brought it to a gliding halt, the engine still running. He got out and walked around the front to the passenger door and kissed me, like he had last night, that fleeting touch that sent my insides to liquid. I stared up at him as he eased his head back, his breathing as ragged as mine, his chest rising and falling rapidly. We affected one another in the same way, and it took a second or two for me to get my head around that. Oh, I’d dreamt of this, to have him return my intense feelings, but for it to be actually happening was a lot to take in.

He raised one hand to cup the side of my face, and I leaned in to it, the heat from his palm welcome on my chilled skin. The weather had been spiteful lately, all cold, harsh winds and bitter frosts, heralding a meaner winter to come. A stout wind blew, catching the long strands of sable fake fur on my coat collar. They tickled my neck, reminding me of how Jaska’s fingertips felt when he brushed them over my skin, so lightly it was as though he’d barely touched me at all. He had a habit of doing that, teasing with his lips, his fingers, his cock, until I begged for him to stroke me roughly, penetrate me hard.

“You look beautiful. That coat suits you. Red, like your hair.” He smiled, looking at me as though I was a delicate flower. “And I’ve missed you.”