Dominion Trust Series - Vol.1 (110 page)

“Too late,” Blaine said, with a mischievous wink. He turned his attention back to Kirsten. “The Trust runs — it functions entirely — on one thing. Self-interest.”

“Ah yes, the essence of capitalism.” Keihl murmured.

“Precisely,” Blaine said, an edge to his voice. “Can you name for me one…
interest
, that’s common to all men and women? A drive? An urge?”

“Sex.”

Kirsten’s voice was thick, the word drawn out, as if Blaine had compelled her to say it with only his suggestion.

“Exactly. Sex. Lust. That’s what drives all of us, when you dig down deep enough. That animal urge to procreate, that need to — hormone junkies that we are — bathe in that oxytocin, that desire to conquer. That’s at the heart of every human, good, bad, or indifferent. And that’s why it’s the glue that keeps us together.”

“Your”—Keihl held up fingers, making air quotes—”Terms of Service do a lot more than wait tables and look pretty? Is that it?”

Blaine nodded. “Is that so much of a surprise? Once you learned who Tom and his Sharon really were? Once you saw their dynamic? It intrigued you. You don’t have to deny it. It’s why you’re here.”

Kirsten opened her mouth to say more, but Keihl squeezed her thigh, hard. She thought better of it.

“Go on,” Keihl said. “What else do they do? Do you whore them out or something? Tell me it’s not that simple.”

“We don’t use words like that — and none of them are paid one cent for their service. But they are — some of them — available for the use of any man who’d like them. With certain limitations, of course. We aren’t animals here.”

Tom leaned forward, his elbows poised across his knees. “What Blaine’s saying is that Terms of Service are usually voluntary. No, they aren’t paid, but they don’t expect to be either.”

“I don’t think I…” Kirsten looked away, afraid that if she looked into Blaine’s eyes one more second he’d see the truth within herself, see what warred inside every moment of her life, that part of her that had longed to get out since The Game has begun.

The real you.

Blaine pushed himself away from the mantel and walked closer, one hand in his pocket. “One of the things my grandfather learned early on, in the early days when the Trust was in danger of falling apart, was that there’s an unfortunate duality to human beings. That good and evil reside in all of us — it’s only a matter of the ratio of each one in relation to the other. That balance. Fortunately, most of us are good people, dark sides or not.” Blaine sighed, glancing at the popping flames of the fire. “Unfortunately, many of the most powerful among us… display less of that good. The secret of the Trust, is that it acknowledges that unfortunate truth, and seeks to harness it, work it for its own larger, ultimately positive, aims.”

“I wish everyone agreed, Blaine.” Tom sat back, the fingers of one hand drumming his thigh. “But they don’t.”

“Is that why Stan hid Coal Creek?” Keihl tucked Kirsten closer to his body, as if he felt he needed to protect her.

“Maybe some of it,” Blaine said. “The Trust… has those who would oppose it. Who don’t understand it.”

“Not the time for that.” Tom waved a hand at his little brother. “Finish it. They need to know.”

Blaine nodded. “I do have one more thing to—”

The sound of leather striking flesh rang out from the hallway, once, twice, a third time. A faint female moan could be heard. Blaine looked toward the curtains.

“Looks like Kathryn got tired of waiting,” Tom said, his lips curved in a knowing smile.

Blaine scowled at his older brother. “Asshole.”

Looking from Keihl to Kirsten, Blaine’s expression suddenly grew serious, almost somber.

“I want you with us — both of you — but membership in the Trust is a commitment. It’s not just privilege, and fun, and fucking, and excess. Yes, it’s all of that — and more — but nothing’s free, and neither is this. I want you two to go home tonight and talk this over, decide if this is something you want. If you do decide to join us, there’s one thing you need to know. Remember that glue we talked about? We all contribute to it —
all
of us. And I want to be sure you understand what that really means. I want you to be sure you’re ready for it.”

Keihl looked at her, and suddenly her heart began to pound. She saw it in Keihl’s eyes even before Blaine could say the words.

“All of the women of the Trust are part of it — and subject to it. One day, Kirsten would have to serve her Term — probably more than once — and you’d have to accept that. Both of you.”

Blaine squatted down in front of them, his cool gaze flicking a look at Keihl.

Permission.

At Keihl’s nod, Blaine took one of Kirsten’s shaking hands. His brilliant, intense gaze seemed to pin her in her seat, her heart in her throat, a rushing sound in her ears.

“You’d never be in danger. Your husband, Tom, me. We’d
never
let anything happen to you, Kirsten. But when you become one of The Trust — you submit to it, too.”

Chapter Thirty One

T
he passing lights glided over the contours of her face as they drove home. She didn’t say a thing, didn’t even look at him.

Somehow Keihl had known, or at least suspected, what lay at the heart of things. The question now was: did they want to take that last step? Though it had gone unsaid, as he’d shaken Blaine’s hand and bid him goodnight, Keihl had known.

One time offer.

“You’re afraid I’ll accuse you… aren’t you?”

The sound of her voice in the dark startled him.

“What?”

“You want to join them. The Trust. But you can’t ask me.”

He sighed. “Kinda hard to ask your wife if it’s okay to share her with other men, you know?”

“Would you?”

“What do you—”

Keihl winced as the brights of an oncoming car nearly blinded him. Cursing, he flashed his high beams at him.

“I… I don’t know, Kirsten. Before all of it — The Game, Tom and Sharon — now this. I don’t think I know much of anything anymore. Foundations have been shaken, I guess you could say.”

“Seems to be happening a lot lately,” Kirsten murmured.

He knew he was at a crossroads yet again with her, and the stakes were higher than ever. The wrong decision, the wrong path? This time if he fucked this up, it might wreck everything.

“I do know one thing. And this little trip further down the rabbit hole just made it even clearer to me.” He reached over, laying his hand on the curve of her belly. She pressed her hands over it, the little squeeze she gave him saying so much more than mere words possibly could. “I care about you. I love you. I’m focused on the both of you — and I want it to stay that way.
You
are what matters to me. Nothing else.”

“And what about… after? What about when you’re forced to make that choice?” She looked out her window, the ghostly illumination of the streetlights coursing over her form, the light catching the sparkling diamonds at her earlobe. “I doubt the offer’s going to be there… forever.”

Keihl gripped the steering wheel harder. “I know it won’t be. Honestly, Kirsten? I want to see more, I want to know more. A
lot
more. But the idea of what we’d — you’d — have to sacrifice. I’m totally confused about it. Turned fucking inside out by it.”

“Because the idea doesn’t totally repel you, does it?”

Keihl didn’t answer right away, the pulse in his neck pounding so hard he could almost hear it in the quiet confines of the truck.

“No, it doesn’t. I’m a fucking
asshole
for saying that — but it doesn’t.”

“You’re not an asshole,” she murmured. “Because… it doesn’t repel me, either.”

Jesus Christ.

He looked over at her, taking in those big, luminous eyes that seemed to soak up any available light, shining it back for all to see, to admire.

So beautiful.

“I need to know if you’d even consider the idea.” He drew a long breath. “I think you know enough now about what it might mean — and what it would require. So you tell me. Would you even entertain it? After the baby comes, after life is back to normal, would you
really
be open to any of it? Be honest. Yes or no — I’ll still love you. You’ll still be mine.”

She brought his hand to her lips then, the soft kiss she placed there stopping his heart for a moment, the devotion and promise and love he felt in that simple gesture more profound than anything he’d ever experienced.

Then she locked her gaze with his, the passing light catching the bright track of a single tear coursing down her cheek.

“Yes, Sir.”

Chapter Thirty Two

T
he kitchen floor was absolutely frigid against her bare feet. Kirsten pulled her robe tighter around her, which wasn’t particularly effective in shielding her from the morning chill due to the now considerable jut of her belly. The note shook in Kirsten’s fingers as she read it, the heat of the mug warm against her other hand, the steam from her morning coffee wafting through her field of vision.

This is your day off, so I want you to relax. But we’re going to start something new, my girl. You’re going to masturbate for me, and I want you to mark down how long it takes for you to come. I also want to know how you came, too. Did you stroke that swollen clit of yours? Pinch those nipples? G-spot? I want to know.

We’re going to be tracking your sensitivity from now on. Be a good girl.

Keihl

“Well… shit.” Kirsten set her coffee mug down, dropping the letter on the counter, then picking it up again, reading through it to be sure it really said what it did.

He’s serious with this?

Of course in fantasy, the idea of her man being that controlling, being that interested in her pleasure, obsessed almost — there was no doubt it was a huge turn-on. Confronted with the reality of it though? With what she’d have to do?

It made her shudder in a strange mix of dread and anticipation.

“Dammit, some days I wish I was vanilla.”

When she’d woken up that morning, sex had been — for the first time in a very long time — the last thing on her mind. She’d had heartburn all night, and the baby had kicked and flipped for hours before finally settling down.

Then that morning, after she’d seen Keihl out the door with a lingering kiss, his strong hand giving her bottom a strong squeeze, the round ligament pain started up. She’d thought she’d lucked out of it — she was almost to the end of her second trimester and she’d had maybe one or two short twinges that had lasted for a few seconds. She’d credited her yoga for that.

But when she’d gotten up from the couch that morning to go brew some coffee, the pain had come on again, sharp and lasting longer than any she’d experienced before. She’d stood there, waiting for it to subside, each second longer it lasted causing her to begin worrying.

Finally, it had subsided. But as she’d moved around the kitchen, again if she moved too fast, it twinged again.

Standing there reading that letter though, she felt a wet, warm heaviness descend between her legs.

Yep, sex on the brain all over again.

It had been almost two weeks since their fateful visit to the Trust facility — she still wasn’t sure what to call the place, which somehow lent it even more alluring mystery. True to his word though, Keihl had focused on her like a laser beam. He didn’t bring up the Trust, or Tom, or Coal Creek or anything anymore. Now all he seemed to care about was how she was feeling, if she was any pain, and if she were being a good girl.

And of course, he was most concerned with her body — and her use of it to service his seemingly limitless lusts.

Not that she was complaining any.

Slut.

She decided to start a bath, knowing that sometimes a warm soak in the tub could help alleviate round ligament pain. Even if it didn’t, it still beat the hell out of standing in an ice cold kitchen, freezing her butt off.

Setting her phone down on the vanity, she noted the time, a slight rush of warmth tinging her cheeks as she obeyed her orders. Just in case. She wasn’t even sure she’d actually, well,
do
that in the tub, but she wanted to keep her… options open.

Not the only thing you want to keep open, is it?

She dropped the robe to the floor, turning about as she looked at her belly in the mirror. It fascinated her in a way that nothing ever had before. She remembered the time when her breasts had grown — seemingly overnight — and she could recall staring at them in the mirror with the same sort of wonder, overlaid with the fear that maybe she’d been some kind of freak for having them grow that large, that fast, at such a young age.

“Oh to be thirteen again,” she murmured as she slipped into the water, sighing at the pleasant heat. Before her pregnancy, she loved hot baths, almost scalding, the kind that left her feeling almost light-headed after a few minutes, but she knew those were no longer safe while pregnant. Still, compared to the shivering cold she’d felt earlier, the warm water was pure heaven, and she closed her eyes, laying her head back against the sill, enjoying the feel of the water lapping against her belly, the way the warmth almost licked up and down between the sensitive lips of her sex.