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Authors: Erika Masten

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BOOK: Domination Sex: Conditioned Response
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“So that gives him the right to slap
you?”

The fact that I want Jay to put his
arms around me so badly, and he’s scolding me instead, makes me see
red in about as literal a sense as possible. My accusation is out
of my mouth before it can hit any of the filters in my brain. “This
coming from a man who pulled my hair and tied me up and made me beg
to be fucked like his dirty little slave?”

For the briefest of moments, Jay looks
like he’s the one who’s been slapped. Then his green eyes glint
coolly, and he clenches his teeth. “And you came three times that
night. You really don’t see the difference in that and a man
striking you in a drunken rage?”

I do see the distinction, and I look
away from Jay’s face, from the mixture of temper and surprise and
pain in his expression. It was out of line to compare him to Sam,
and I know it. This is just so incredibly fucked up, breaking up
with Robert and now arguing with Jay. For the first time, it occurs
to me that maybe I need to be alone. No more Roberts and Sams. No
more expecting my friends to accept every asshole I date. No more
hurting Jay or flaunting other guys in front of him.

“You’re right,” I concede, shoulders
sagging, “it’s not the same. Sam was abusive and belittling. You
just…wanted something I didn’t.”

One of Jay’s sleek black brows perks.
“You mean I wanted something serious and you didn’t.”

Now I’m the one who is surprised. We
never got that far in our conversation that weekend, never talked
about what it meant, then or since.

I shake my head no, both to his
statement and to that train of thought. “I mean you’re into all
that…domination or whatever, and I just want a simple relationship.
Vanilla, right?”

Jay peers at me hard and smirks.
“Vanilla my ass.” He closes in, towering over me even as I’m
wearing four-inch heels. “The more I pushed you, the harder you
came, Emma.”

I’m feeling pushed right now, and I
frown and fold my arms to hug myself, turning away from
him.

From behind me, giving me a bit of
distance, I hear him say, “I went over everything about that
weekend in my head. I thought I’d pushed you too hard, and I
regretted that. It tormented me.”

Torment? I don’t like
hearing Jay say that. Even now, seeing my accusation wound him,
hearing him talk like this, I want to believe that weekend was just
a momentary lapse in normal operation for us. It didn’t affect us,
as individuals or as friends. I
need
to believe that, but Jay is not
cooperating.

“I don’t think so anymore,” he says,
and I turn back to him tentatively. “The men who don’t push you
can’t hold you.”

I throw up my hands. “Oh, so now I’m
just one of those women who like jerks and need to be cheated on
and walked on and underappreciated? Women who love too much? Maybe
it’s not that simple. No relationship is perfect. I’m still just
feeling my way through this, trying to find the right person for
me, unlike all our friends and their wonderful, happy marriages. So
sorry to disappoint.”

Jay frowns at me. “Self-imposed
expectations are not an excuse. No one thinks less of you for
dating around, though about half of them think you’re crazy for not
keeping me when you had me.”

A part of me would really like to call
Jay on that streak of ego, but he’s telling the truth. Even Julie
periodically goes off on me about flaking out on him.

“I’m not saying you’re only attracted
to jerks,” he tells me, those green eyes finally calm. “I’m saying
you’ve been looking for a man who will challenge you as an equal
and own you as a lover, and finally finding one scared you so bad
you’ve been running ever since. Your choice of men has been getting
steadily worse, like you’re desperate to prove there’s someone out
there better for you than I would have been.”

I shake my head and shrug, so
emotionally exhausted that I can’t tell if there’s even a shred of
accuracy in any of what Jay is saying. He steps up to me again,
peering at me with eyes that just shouldn’t be that beautiful.
Little by little, Jay’s head tilts down toward mine, until he’s a
breath from kissing me.

“Not fair,” I whisper, “taking
advantage of me when I’m tired and upset.”

“You’re right. That’s why I’m not
going to.”

Pronounced disappointment stabs
through my chest. I guess I hadn’t realized how much I
wanted…

Still so near, still
piercing me with his gaze, Jay smiles. “This is what I have in
mind, Emma. We’re going to try this again. But I’m not a fool or a
masochist. We do this right—
this
time
—or I finally forget that little
college girl I’ve had a soft spot for since my junior year and go
find someone else.”

I’m so taken aback by the thought that
Jay had reciprocated my crush in college—and I never knew—that I
can’t react. I stand silent, trembling slightly as he brushes the
hair away from my face with the lightest touch of his warm
fingertips. My shoulders and stomach are as tight as bow strings.
His hand settles on my neck, his thumb stroking my chilled,
tingling skin.

“Do you remember the one thing you
wouldn’t try with me when we spent our weekend together?” he asks,
and I feel my cheeks flush.

“You wanted to have anal sex,” I
whisper. I’d never done that before, and I haven’t done it since,
either.

“That’s what you’ll give me, Emma, as
your act of surrender, your act of faith acknowledging that I know
what you want and what you need. You will bend over and beg me to
fuck your ass.”

A flare of panic stiffens my spine and
widens my eyes, and I find myself shaking my head and stammering my
protest.

Jay’s smile widens. “Not tonight,
love.” He chuckles when I whimper in relief. “I’m going to go back
to my place and pack a few things. Then I’m going to the country
house my parents left me. You remember where that is, don’t you? We
had the rehearsal dinner there when Julie and Hal got married and I
was his best man.”

Swallowing hard, I choke out, “I
remember.”

“Good. You’re going to stay here and
get a good night’s sleep. In the morning, you’re going to have a
proper breakfast—not a cup of coffee and a piece of toast, missy.
You’re not a co-ed late for class or an intern who has to get to
work before the partners anymore. When you’re ready, when you’re
sure this is what you want, you’re going to put together an
overnight bag and drive to the house.”

“But I still—” Still shy at the
thought of risking my safe friendship with Jay. Still panic at the
idea that he is making everything contingent on me begging him to
take me anally when I’m not even comfortable exploring that by
myself.

He puts his thumb to my lips to cut me
off. “Don’t fret, Emma. I’m going to tell you what will
happen.”

Jay leans closer, head bent over mine,
his breath warm on my brow and temple. “When you beg me…when you
kneel on the bed naked for me with your shoulders pressed to the
mattress and that soft, round butt up in the air for me, I’m going
to grease your tight …trembling …little bud with lubricant. It will
be chilled, just a bit…and it will make you tense…but you’ll
welcome it, trust me.”

The way he draws out the description
leaves me, in turns, horrified and aroused and curious. It takes a
few seconds before I realize I’ve fisted my hands in his
shirt.

In that sinfully deep voice, Jay
continues, “I’ll penetrate you with my fingers first. You’ll feel
the knob of my knuckles as the first finger slides past that snug
ring, and you’ll tense again, which will make the invasion feel
bigger. So…much…bigger. You’ll want to push it out, but part of you
will want more—another finger, a third, my cock pushing into you
and then rocking and then reaming your sweet, vulnerable asshole.
You won’t be able to stop pleading with me to fuck you.”

My mind is still dead set against
this, but I can’t deny to myself that listening to Jay say these
things to me has my panties not just wet but soaked. I feel my
juices slicking my inner thighs.

Jay’s soft, full lips skim
my cheek. Then he nuzzles my ear. His breath is hot against my
earlobe, before his velvety tongue flicks over it, followed by the
slow, gentle graze of his teeth. “And I
will
fuck your pretty ass, Emma. I
will fuck you hard, with my fingers digging into your hips and my
balls slapping against you. Your tight little hole will burn with
the sensation of being stretched and the rubbing of my cock back
and forth over your tender flesh as I pump you. And you will be
crying and squealing and begging me not to stop. Begging me to take
your ass every night. Promising to be my dirty little
slave.”

My face is aflame with
embarrassment and arousal and a touch of true, deep shame. How can
I react to Jay like this after telling him I don’t want what he
does? And I don’t want it. The idea of letting any man penetrate me
anally makes me want to lock myself alone in my room. The idea of
letting him dominate me again, letting him wind me so tight and
push my limits so far… Of feeling
that
much, that strongly, for that
long…

Memories from those four nights with
Jay assail my senses now. He still smells of mandarin and amber,
from that exquisite, expensive cologne he wears. I remember that
scent mixed with sweat and the thick musk of sex, overwhelming me
as I kissed his neck and licked his pale nipples and sucked his
long dick. Pressed against me, his body still feels as hard and
toned as a champion swimmer. There’s no forgetting the weight of
that body stretched out on top of me, his arms encircling me,
binding me to him.

And the fear, that’s back, as well.
Why would anyone want to desire someone that much? Submit to
someone so completely? Be so…vulnerable?

Despite his indication earlier that he
wasn’t going to take advantage of my emotional state, Jay shifts
abruptly and uses his lips and tongue to open my mouth. It’s as
hard and as passionate a kiss as I’ve ever had, and another
reminder of our brief entanglement. No one has ever kissed me as
weak-in-the-knees thoroughly as Jay.

One of his hands grips me by the hair,
right in the back and low on my scalp, so that the pressure sends a
sharp tingling over my skin instead of pain. I offer no resistance
as he pulls my head back to loom over my upturned face and feast on
my mouth. He sucks my lips, teases them with light flicks of his
tongue, scrapes them softly with his teeth. The low growl rumbling
deep in his chest makes my pussy throb in answer. My body betrays
me, ignoring my fear.

When Jay pulls back to look at me, his
gorgeous lips wet from our kiss, I sigh and give him a hint of a
smile. “I thought you weren’t going to do that,” I
whisper.

He answers with a crooked little grin
that looks rakish and too damn sexy, but also just a tad wistful.
“I’m only human, love. A man can take just so much temptation
before he has to taste what he wants.”

The last several years haven’t passed
at all, when he says things like that to me and looks at me like
he’s going to devour me bite by bite. It’s like I just crawled out
of bed with him this morning. My feelings are just as mixed up, my
body just as hungry for him despite my better judgment, the
pleasure and vulnerability just as overpowering.

Then Jay steps away from me and starts
for the door. He pauses, his hand on the knob, and spends a moment
looking at me—caressing me with his gaze. “Sleep well, Emma,” he
mutters, soft and low, before he’s gone.

I slump down onto the couch, a
ragdoll, every last bit of energy wrung out of me. I have the
night—one night—to decide what I’m going to do. If I’m going to
throw myself off this cliff and into the abyss of being hopelessly
in love and helplessly in lust with the one man I’ve measured every
other against for the last ten years. It sounds like an easy
decision, in theory, but it’s different when all of the emotions
and sensations are washing over me, submerging me, cutting me off
from everything else.

Despite my sincere efforts to clear my
head and rest, I can’t keep Jay out of the back of my mind. I
change into my robe, remembering that this shade of blue is his
favorite color. As I wander into the kitchen and make myself tomato
soup, comfort food in a cup, I catch myself adding the spices he
likes. I slip into bed and flip through channels until I find an
old movie that came out back in our college days. What would it
have been like, I wonder, if I hadn’t had a revolving door of
boyfriends back then, making up for my strict upbringing? What if
I’d actually been single long enough for Jay to have asked me
out?

I shake my head at the futility of the
regret. It would probably have been a disaster. I was too immature
for him then, and I’m not entirely sure that has
changed.

My dreams that night are vivid and
fitful, at least to start. In the first, I’m late getting to the
country house, and I’m frantically searching for Jay but can’t find
him. When I try to call him, I can’t remember the number, or I keep
hitting the wrong buttons. When I finally jar myself awake, with my
tossing and whining, the clock says I’ve only been asleep an
hour.

BOOK: Domination Sex: Conditioned Response
4.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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