Mina's Heart (2 page)

He looked away, his mind clearly elsewhere.

Before it could flee completely, she slid onto his lap, straddling him, and cupped his cheek with her palm. “Please don’t be angry with me. I’ve never been good at this. You know that.”

He closed his eyes, but he snuggled into her palm. “I don’t know how you’ve changed.”

“I haven’t.” Her confession was inadequate at best, but completely true. Nothing had changed for her. She thought about him all the time. In the dark, when John, her former boyfriend with whom she’d spent three years, fumbled for her, she imagined Everett’s hands on her, his lips claiming hers, and his cock filling her.

She thought Everett might take her in his arms and kiss her, but instead his face hardened. “I didn’t give you permission to move.”

But he hadn’t stopped her. A cold feeling stole strength from her limbs as she realized he would never stop her from disobeying. He would merely mete out punishment afterward. In committing the act, she accepted the consequences.

She dropped her gaze automatically. “I’m sorry, Master.”

“You must learn patience. I wasn’t rejecting you, Mina. I didn’t agree to be here because I wanted retribution. I’m here because I want to see if you can be the submissive I need.” He spoke gently, with no undertones of anger or hurt. Amazingly, she heard hope.

“I can, Ever. I can be anything you want me to be.”

He sighed. “I don’t want you to be anything you’re not.”

Behind his statement was a censure she understood with absolute certainty. He would have accepted her in a vanilla relationship all those years ago, but now he wasn’t willing to settle. “I’m sorry. Please tell me how to make it up to you.”

“Get on your knees.”

She slid to the floor, assuming the correct position. She’d practiced this with Isla, a Domme friend and coworker of Everett’s.

He adjusted his position, shifting to sit up straight, and she realized he intended to punish her for her transgression. She focused on breathing through the panic preceding this first spanking. Isla had refused to discuss this with her, dismissing Mina’s fears by saying that the administration of a punishment was a positive sign. Doms who didn’t care didn’t bother to punish their slaves.

“Stand here.” He pointed to a place to his right. Then he guided her down until she was bent over his knees with her hands on the floor for balance. He had her widen her stance and turn her toes inward a little. “Tell me why you’re being spanked.”

“Because I moved and spoke without permission.”

“You did not speak without permission, slave. I asked you a question, and you answered it.”

“Yes, Master. I moved without permission.” The denim of his jeans was scratchy under her ribs and stomach, and the concrete floor was cold against her palms.

“You’ll count these three out and thank me for each one.”

He touched her ass with his palm, but his gentle caress failed to soothe her tight nerves. Years of watching her father hit her mother had her questioning again why she’d accepted this form of punishment. Her research had turned up a variety of punishments acceptable in the BDSM community. But in the negotiation phase, this was the only thing Everett had proposed. She hadn’t wanted to take the chance that she’d lose this opportunity to show him that he’d misjudged her all those years ago.

The first spank landed with a loud smack, and a hot pain bloomed across her skin. Her breath caught even as a great shiver rocked her body. She barely remembered her line.

“One. Thank you, Master.”

The second and third ones came quickly. She wanted to get up afterward, to retreat and hide, but he pressed his hand on her lower back and ordered her to stay put.

“Tell me what you feel right now.”

Her feelings were easy to identify, not complicated at all, and she knew better than to hide them. “Humiliation, shame, fear.”

“WHY FEAR?” EVERETT expected her to feel humiliated—she was a proud woman—and ashamed—she hated to make mistakes. But he hadn’t expected her to be afraid. Sure, he hadn’t tempered himself when he’d spanked her, but he hadn’t struck her hard either. She needed to know what would happen when she misbehaved.

When she didn’t answer, he flipped her up so that she sat on his lap. The room was warm, and the aftercare blanket was in the cabinet behind him, so he cradled her in his arms. She held herself stiffly against him.

“You knew the consequences for misbehaving. You agreed to them before you set foot in my house.”

“Yes, Master.” She avoided his gaze, which irritated him greatly.

“Mina, explain why you’re afraid of me.”

She shook her head. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of the punishment.”

But it was over. He’d expected to help her process her feelings of humiliation and shame, not fear. It troubled him that she was afraid. A spanking like this wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t horrible. Her ass might burn for a little while, but that was all. It was a reminder, not meant to cause lasting discomfort. He remembered before, how the mere mention of a spanking had bothered her. He needed to know why she was so afraid, why she’d fled from him years ago, and why she’d agreed to spanking if she hadn’t overcome her fears.

“Mina, look at me.”

She did, and what he saw cut him to the core. Her brown eyes were dark and wide, bright with unshed tears. She was terrified after the fact. If anything, the first spanking should have set her mind at ease. It should have proved to her that she could take it.

“Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. He watched her try to form words and fail.

“Tell me why you’re afraid.”

This time she closed her eyes, and a single tear escaped. “That is a discussion for a later time. I want to continue the scene.”

He recognized the return of her stubborn streak, and her demand made him smile. All was not lost, and she wasn’t afraid of him. Still, he couldn’t let her think she’d won. “We can’t, Mina. Not until this is straightened out. I don’t wish for you to be afraid.” He did, however, bank on apprehension and taut nerves.

“I’m not afraid of you, and I won’t misbehave again. If I promise to talk about this with you later, will you at least kiss me?”

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to take her upstairs and fuck her until she couldn’t walk away from him ever again, but that wasn’t an option. Not yet. First he had to know if she was serious about wanting to be his submissive.

“You need me to touch you, don’t you?”

“Yes, Master.” He’d once convinced himself that he didn’t need to hear her use that title, but now he knew he never would have been happy that way.

He closed his hand on the inside of her knee and brought it up a little higher on his chest, and then he shoved her other knee until her legs were parted. Taking her right hand in his, he guided it between her legs. “We’ll do this together, slave. But next time I give this order—and rest assured I will give it again—you will do this alone, for my pleasure, and I will watch.”

Her entire body relaxed, conforming more to his. Six years ago, he would have wondered if this was the first time she’d masturbated, but he dismissed that idea now. When she’d left him, she’d been well aware of the pleasures of the flesh. Even if she’d never touched herself in front of him, he’d coaxed her to orgasm with his mouth, his hands, and his cock. She wouldn’t be able to resist touching herself.

He cupped her hand and pressed her fingers to her clit. He was there for guidance and backup, nothing more. She was very wet, evidence that she’d found the striptease arousing. He wasn’t under the impression she’d enjoyed the spanking. She’d made it clear from the very beginning that she didn’t want any kind of impact play. That was strictly a punishment.

Sliding their fingers through her slick folds, he concentrated on the places he knew drove her insane, but he also paid attention to the places in between. A small sigh escaped her lips. She rested her head against his shoulder, her lashes fluttering softly against his skin and her shoulder-length dark hair falling like silk over his arm. She pressed kisses along his collarbone and gripped his knee with her free hand.

“Play with your breasts, honey.”

If she was surprised by his term of endearment, she didn’t show it. Ever mentally berated himself for using it, though. He hadn’t moved past what she’d done to him, and he didn’t want her to think that sex would salve that wound. It was only a small part of the problem.

She released the hold she had on his knee and cupped one breast. He watched, careful to keep a steady stroke going between her legs. She lifted her hips, urging him to her opening, but he ignored her offering. If she’d done what he’d originally asked, she would have been able to have control over those details. But she’d given it up the moment she asked for his help.

She dragged her fingers lightly along the underside of that perfect-sized round globe, and he filed away her preference for that kind of touch. He’d experiment with it later. Then she circled her nipple. He eased two of her fingers and one of his inside her pussy. She was tighter than he’d expected. Her muscles jumped and twitched, squeezing his finger against hers.

“God, Ever, yes!” She arched, thrusting her hips against their hands, and pinched her nipple.

He hated to interrupt her in the midst of a good time, but he had to correct her. “‘Master,’ slave. You must remember to use my title.”

She tilted her head back and looked at him. Her almond-shaped eyes were wide with the weight of her mistake. “I’m sorry, Master. You make me feel so good that I forget myself.”

He twisted his lips in a wry smile at the way she’d blamed him with a compliment. He liked her stubborn and willful side, but he needed to help her understand that certain things would earn a punishment. Not accepting responsibility for her mistakes was one of them, but he decided to defer telling her until after she’d had an orgasm. He needed her to see that their sexual relationship had always been D/s. They just hadn’t used those terms or protocols.

With the arm supporting her shoulders, he lifted her closer and claimed her with a kiss. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and tangled it with hers. She kissed him back, a little bit thankful and very sassy, and she pumped her hips in time to their duel.

He felt her caress the side of his neck, and then she continued around to the back, seeking that place just below his hairline that made him go crazy. When she found it, he lost some of his iron control, kissing her harder and pumping his finger into her faster.

His cock, already chomping at the bit to get inside her, pressed painfully against his jeans and her ass, which also rubbed against him as she fucked their fingers. She’d always had this much of an impact on him, from the first time he’d kissed her even after she’d told him she didn’t kiss on the first date. She’d made the mistake of presenting it as a challenge instead of a limit. One he would respect, but the other he could only shatter.

She played him until he growled a warning, and then she fanned her fingers through his hair and tugged lightly. Perhaps she meant to guide him down her neck, where he could kiss and lick at her many erogenous zones, but he had a different plan in mind.

Breaking away suddenly, he tried to don his darkest expression. From the way her brown eyes lit and her eyelids fell to half-mast, he knew she’d failed to understand his warning. She moaned again. Clinging to him with that one hand on the back of his neck, she ground against their hands.

“Master, yes. Harder! Oh God, I love the way you kiss.”

It was an honest compliment, but it was also an attempt at manipulation. Partly as punishment—and he figured he’d helped her over her initial problem—he withdrew his finger and eased it into her mouth. She lay across his lap, masturbating, and he fucked her mouth with his finger, a preview of what was to come. Mina wouldn’t be worried, though. He remembered how much she’d loved to suck his cock.

Her hips lifted so high she almost did a backbend, and her body stiffened as she came. A deep blush bloomed on her chest, climbing to include her neck and cheeks. She moaned, the vibrations echoing around the finger he still thrust into her mouth.

She lowered her hips slowly until she rested on his lap, and she extracted her fingers from her pussy. He gave her mouth a temporary reprieve as he grabbed for her wrist. Then he guided her fingers where his had just been. Not only was it incredibly hot to watch her feasting on her own juices; it was another way he exercised his control over her.

“Suck on them as if they were my cock.”

He watched the languor of her orgasm fade. They were just getting started. He’d always been like this, and she’d voiced amazement several times at the amount of foreplay—for him, this counted as foreplay—he required. She’d never complained, which was a good thing. From the beginning, he'd loved her sexual stamina.

She closed her eyes and moaned. Her tongue danced over those digits, dipping down to lick her other fingers and the palm of her hand. Those luscious lips, not yet swollen with evidence of his domination, savored every drop of her essence. It served to remind him that she’d never neglected his balls. Sometimes she’d paid more attention to them than his cock. Because he was her first sexual experience that way as well, he once asked her where she learned to give such a mind-blowing blowjob. She’d smiled and blushed, and then she’d mumbled something about the Internet.

The visual she presented made his cock ache and demand similar treatment, so he put a halt to her activities.

“Go and stand underneath the spotlight. Lace your fingers behind your neck.” He knew Isla had taken some time to show her basic poses and to walk her through the meaning of the negotiated terms. Everett had complained—loudly—when they were discussing her wish that she had no fucking clue what she was asking for. Knowing his history with Mina, Isla had just patted him on the cheek, blown him a kiss, and told him not to worry about it.

He figured that if Mina could research giving head, then she could research BDSM. That, and he trusted Isla implicitly. His friend and fellow Domme wanted him to either move forward with Mina or put her firmly behind him.