Protege (28 page)

Today he was addressing the need for etiquette. Collette, being a southern girl, was fairly certain she had this down pat, but then Jude explained a whole bunch of stuff she hadn't learned growing up. She understood that each Dom held his or her own version of etiquette. And her Dom was a bit of a nitpick.

“Lift your chin.”

Rising on her knees with her thighs spread apart, she elongated her neck.

“Beautiful.” His hand brushed over her shoulder. “If I were at the office all day, I would notify you when I was on my way home. You would then prepare yourself and wait. I don't mind if you rest, but when my key slips into that lock, it's proper to rise and greet me in this presenting pose. Nothing could please me more than coming home to such a stunning sight.”

“Sir?”

“Yes, peach.”

“I should greet you this way naked?”

“Yes, unless I instruct you otherwise. There will be times I bring company home with me. Depending on who I'm with, I may prefer to have you clothed.”

She nodded. Even clothed, this could seem odd to some, but she hadn't met anyone at the château who wasn't a member of Fernweh yet, so she supposed they would understand.

“When you rise”—he held out his hand, assisting her up in a smooth glide—“you will rise and kiss me.” He pulled her arms around his shoulders and rested his palms on her bare bottom, mouth curving as he grinned. “Kiss me, peach.”

Smiling, she went to her tippy-toes and pressed her lips to his. His mouth tilted over hers, taking full control and leaving her dizzy and a bit needy.

“Good girl.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Let's have lunch.”

As they ate, Jude watched her, his eyes hardly blinking as he chewed. Her mouth tightened as the deep warmth his attention created spread into what she was sure to be a rosy blush which then teased a smile on her lips.

“You're quite breathtaking when you blush, Collette.”

The tight smirk bloomed into a full smile. “Thank you, Sir.”

“No need to thank me. I only speak the truth. Your curls mesmerize me. How on earth do you twist them up into that little bun of yours? I find myself waiting and making bets for the delinquent ones to spring free of their bonds. Makes me want to give them a tug.”

Self-consciously she brushed a hand over her hair. Sure enough, several curls had escaped her chignon. “They're a nightmare.”

“On the contrary. I dream of them often.”

Her breath slowly escaped as her stomach went weak. He dreamed of her? Well, of her hair. Still . . .

He continued to study her, his attention unnerving. But in a way that made her want to hide and also made her worry he might stop.

Finishing her soup, she placed the spoon aside and wiped her mouth. He'd finished his lunch and picked at a fresh roll, his elbows carelessly on the table as he tore away a morsel and fed it through his full lips. He had beautiful lips, thick and sensual, not something men often had.

She swallowed. “Can I get you anything else?”

His eyes creased and her heart raced. “Yes.” Swallowing the last bit of bread, he brushed the crumbs off his hands and stood. “I'd like you to go to the library, take one of the pillows off the sofa, and place it next to my chair. You have fifteen minutes to do this. I have an errand to run and when I return I have a few calls to make. I want you by my side while I work.”

“Oui, mon Monsieur.”
It seemed whenever he set a demand to her, she switched to French. She wasn't sure what provoked this volleying between languages, she only knew it felt natural and he seemed to like it.

She stood and cleared the table, making quick work of the dishes. After freshening up, she went to the library and waited on the pillow as he asked. Brow tightening, she suddenly felt unsure. Should she be here or at the door like he'd shown her earlier?

Surely this was where he wanted her to be. He'd expressly instructed her to be here when he returned in fifteen minutes, which was more like two minutes now.

The soft hum of his car pulled into the driveway and her breath came out in a rush. What if she wasn't where he wanted? It wasn't a fear of punishment that worried her, but a deep desire to please him. She was not afraid of disappointing him. She knew he'd never treat her harshly, but on her own scale she wanted to please him—her motives completely driven by the desire for his praise, not fear of criticism.

Her ears zeroed in on the sound of his footsteps, the echo of each stride growing louder the closer he came. Her heart raced and she'd worked herself into such a panic she wasn't even paying attention to her posture. She sat sloppily like a cross-legged toddler on a pillow.

The door opened and he stilled, a frown immediately marring his beautiful face. Shit. He must have wanted her by the front door. “What's the matter?” he asked before she could apologize.

Her face dropped to her hands, despising how muddled she'd made something so simple. “I screwed up.”

“What are you talking about?” He slowly stepped into the room and shut the door, a dark green envelope landing on the chair as he entered.

Fixing her position, she switched to her knees and placed her palms open and up on her thighs. “I wasn't sure if this was where you wanted me?”

He continued to frown. “Was I unclear?”

She glanced at the floor.

He sighed. “I'll take that as a yes. You are exactly where I want you to be. Your posture could've been improved, but you've done that. Where was the confusion?”

She swallowed. “The door, you said I should greet you at the door.”

“Ah.” He grinned and came around the desk to his chair, his hand tugging on an escaped curl. “I didn't mean to confuse you. When I give a specific command, I expect it to override protocol and etiquette. You did as I asked.”

Relief should have elevated the stress of her confusion, but it lingered. She wanted to do more than please him. She wanted to awe him. She'd had the opportunity and screwed it up.

“Collette, what's the matter?”

Pulled from her thoughts, she shook her head. “Nothing. I'm sorry.” She straightened her posture as if that could make up for the missed chance.

He sighed. “Sweetheart, it's fine. You're too hard on yourself. You may relax.”

But she couldn't. Something inside her demanded she remain stiff, holding her pose strong to show him how much she wanted to please him.

He began with his phone calls and she held the position. Her shoulders were the first to ache and every time she wanted to roll her neck to relieve some of the tension, she forbade it.

Next, her knees went numb and the tops of her feet tingled with pins and needles. Jude continued on the phone, sometimes pacing, other times reclining in his chair. He referred back to his computer often, pulling up data and reviewing details with the person on the other line.

By his fourth call her thighs were trembling and her fingertips held the beat of her heart. When he finally hung up the phone, over two hours had passed.

“I'm sorry that took so long. It's almost time for our workout.” He stilled as if fully looking at her for the first time since he returned. His face darkened and she suddenly shrank into her pillow, her numb legs failing her as blood shifted and lightheadedness made her sway.

He cursed and caught her before she hit the floor. She hissed at the painful rush of blood traveling through her numb limbs, prickling painfully as sensation returned. Steadying her, he scowled as she winced and tried to stretch her legs. Pins and needles spiked into her all the way to her hips.

“Damn it, Collette, what were you thinking staying like that all this time. I told you to relax. Stay still and let the blood come back naturally. Stop trying to force it.”

She knew it wouldn't last, but the acute tingling was excruciating. He huffed and shook his head. “I should have been more attuned. I told you to relax,” he repeated, frustration clear in his voice. “What was the point of doing this to yourself?”

“I wanted to show you I could wait.”

“I didn't tell you to wait like that. I asked you to relax on a pillow while I made a few phone calls. I trusted you to do as I asked.” Mouth tight with displeasure, he chafed her feet and legs, working the blood around and easing the pain. It slowly faded and she sighed.

“I'm sorry. I was upset I wasn't presenting properly when you came in and I wanted to show you I could do better.”

This didn't seem to appease him. “I see.” Placing her on the chair, he stood. “And did I seem upset at the way I found you?”

“No—”

“Did I, in any way, express disappointment?”

“No—”

“And have I ever given the impression that you're responsible for selecting discipline measures?”

“No, but—”

“Then you had no right to punish yourself. If I think you deserve punishment, I will decide and dispense it. You're not to concern yourself with such things, and I
am
disappointed that you would do so. I'm also unhappy with what you've done to your body. I was on the phone for nearly two hours, Collette. I would never make a person sit perfectly still for that length of time. It's totally irresponsible and unhealthy. On top of all of this, part of the blame's mine for failing to notice what you were doing.”

“I'm sorry.”

“So am I.” He paced and rubbed the back of his head. Her limbs still tingled a bit. “I want you to sit there for a few moments longer until you feel safe to stand.
Do not
get off that seat until you're certain you can do so safely. Then I want you to go to the gym and dress for our exercise. You'll walk for the entire hour then we'll discuss your punishment for putting yourself in danger.”

When he left her chin quivered. She shouldn't have done this. Her only intention was to make a point, but she'd certainly made the wrong one. Now, as her legs shuddered under her weight and she walked like a newborn fawn, she agreed she might have been a bit too hard on herself. How the hell was she supposed to walk an hour like this?

Perhaps the walking would help restore her coordination. Taking several breaks, she slowly made it to the gym. Her ass was tingling, too, and the muscles in her arms were already stiff and sore.

As she crept through the main room, she shrank into the shadows. Jude was working the bag in the corner and looking pretty upset. She wanted to go to him and apologize again, but he often made it clear that when he was upset he would come to her when ready. This was one of those moments he seemed to need time to collect himself.

In the back room, she slipped on her workout clothes and slowly tied her shoes. The echoes of his fists pounding into the bag along with his grunts had her shrinking, not that she feared he'd take his temper out on her. She was mostly upset because she'd put him in such a mood.

Again she faced the urge to criticize herself and dwell on her less-than-stellar behavior. It seemed one silly misunderstanding was spiraling into several consequences. When the truth was, he didn't seem to mind from the start. Now he minded. He minded very much.

She stepped onto the treadmill and their eyes met in the mirror. He watched as she slowly started to walk. His gaze continuously returned to her throughout the hour.

She never made it to her typical pace, which really wasn't anything impressive. The walking did help her circulation return to normal, however. Jude wandered around the gym, always good scenery, but today she had a hard time keeping her head up to watch him. His disappointment weighed on her like a physical ache.

When he finally approached, he pressed the end button on her machine and her legs slowed.

“Time's up.”

She swallowed.

“I want you to return to the house. Rather than showering here, you will soak in the tub for exactly thirty minutes. After that, you will go to my room and stand at the foot of my bed until I come to collect you. Go now.”

His intentions were clear: First he would make sure her body was completely tended to and then
he
would decide the penalty of her choices. The physical result of her actions was punishment enough for what she'd done to her body, but for undermining him . . . He would be sure to demonstrate, in a way she wouldn't forget, that he was in charge.

“Yes, Sir.”

He circled her for several seconds, letting the anticipation meld with trepidation. When he finally spoke his voice was quiet yet severe. “What is the one thing I have taught you a sub must give a Dom in order for the D/s dynamic to function?”

“Trust.”

“Correct. And that trust, Collette, goes beyond the good faith that I will keep you safe and not abandon you. That trust extends your confidence that my judgments are fair and wise and always in your best interest. Today, your actions displayed an imbalance in that trust.”

He stopped as he stepped behind her and waited, giving his words a moment to sink in.

“Then there's the issue of me neglecting to notice the damage you were causing yourself. That upsets me very much. I'm not only disappointed with your decision to apply penance I didn't dictate; I'm disappointed in my shortsightedness. I expect you to trust me, and I trust you to do as I say and not cause yourself physical or emotional harm. Your behavior has led me to question myself.”

“I'm sorry, Sir.”

“Do not speak until I give you permission.”

Keeping his body relaxed he continued. “It's my duty to guide you, Collette, so that you can experience a sense of freedom found only within the D/s dynamic. I cannot do this if you question my ability to lead you. It's
my
ruling you must trust, no one else's. I'm here to unburden you of such concerns, but the moment you take that burden back it's out of my hands and this dance is then without music, do you understand?”

She nodded.

“If I choose to tease or titillate you, I'll do so and you will not question me. I expect you to know well enough by now that I don't relish causing you pain. I'm not that type of Dom. Every failure in this relationship is a reflection of my own—to lead properly—and I take that very seriously, as I only want the best for you. It's my duty to guide you, and I will.”

His finger traced down her spine and her breasts lifted, drawing his attention briefly, but he stayed the course.

“The proper way to entice a desired behavior is to reinforce it. There are four types of reinforcement: positive, negative, punishment, and extinction. Positive is as it sounds. You show a desired behavior and I reward you positively with praise or perhaps a caress, or an orgasm.”

His thumb brushed over her nipple and her body twitched. “Negative reinforcement is the removal of something unpleasant when a desired behavior occurs. For instance, I could insert an anal plug into your ass every day until you master a certain behavior. I would only remove the device as a form of reward when the desired result is achieved.”

His finger went to her back entrance and paused, applying the slightest pressure in order to emphasize how uncomfortable such a thing could be over the duration of a day.

“Punishment is to inflict something unpleasant. You're familiar with that.” He smacked her ass. Hard.

She gasped and quickly steadied herself. His hand rubbed over the mark, her heated flesh tingling at the slight friction.

“Such wonderful coloration. I love how quickly your skin blushes under my touch.” He pinched her ass and she gasped again. “And then there's extinction, the removal of something pleasant, such as the privilege of sharing each other's bed.” This time when she gasped he understood which reinforcement held the most weight.

Coming to stand in front of her, he said, “Because both of us have done something wrong, we will not sleep in the same bed for two nights, one night for me neglecting to pay proper attention to you, and one night for the careless abuse you enacted on your body today.

“Now, I want to be clear, different people prefer different means of reinforcement. I'm not particularly fond of punishment, but it's a necessary evil. I'd much rather exist in a relationship based on positive reinforcement alone, where I can tell you how beautiful you are and how much your unconditional surrender pleases me. But that isn't always possible, certainly not when you insist on inflicting harm to your body beyond anything I see fit.”

Her eyes closed in a show of shame.

“Collette, you are not to harm yourself in any way. Your body is mine to protect, and violating that is a direct affront to me, your Dom. This urge to inflict punishment on yourself tells me I'm not meeting your needs.” Her face tightened as he went on. “Do you need me to spank you? You may answer now.”

“Please, Sir.”

They were at a crossroad. While Jude had delivered uncountable spankings and floggings in his life, he was not a sadist. Nor was he interested in a strictly SM relationship. There were those out there who would be perfectly suited for such a task, eager for the job, but not him.

While he enjoyed the feel of his palm slapping against her ass in an erotic sense, the distribution of pain strictly for pain didn't appeal to him. Yet he found the idea of letting someone else meet her needs most abhorrent of all.

“Describe to me exactly what you feel when I spank you.”

It had been less than a month and this was the second spanking she'd requested. The first did not demonstrate any erotic gain, as it was clearly delivered as discipline, yet here she was asking again.

“Pain.”

“Not the physical. Tell me what you feel inside.”

Her breathing accelerated in an agitated manner. She breathed as if aroused, but he suspected it was the heightening of a different emotion—one he struggled to identify. “I feel . . . forgiven.”

“Are you aroused, Collette? Wet?”

“No, Sir.”

Her breathing continued to intrigue him. “Describe
forgiven
.”

She drew in a long breath. “It's like a weight's being lifted and I can breathe easier. I feel . . . clear.”

Interesting. A masochist typically derived sexual pleasure from pain, but with Collette that didn't seem to be the case. “The last time I spanked you outside of sex, did you get aroused?”

“No, Sir.”

He struggled to understand her desire. “Are you doing this because you think it's what I want?”

Her head lowered.

“Collette.”

“No, Sir. I have the feeling you don't enjoy spanking me, which makes it very hard to ask it of you.” She was clearly upset.

His hand brushed over her cheek. “Take a deep breath. I'm not upset with you, Collette. Not about this, and we've resolved our issue from earlier, setting the penalty at two nights in our own beds. I'm just trying to understand your needs.”

She nodded, but still looked upset.

“Did your parents spank you?”

“I can't remember.”

It didn't make sense. Everything about her paperwork pointed to a distaste for violence, yet she was drawn to the act of spanking. He frowned. “Did a foster parent perhaps?”

She shivered, her eyes taking on a vacant glaze as she frowned. He imagined that her memories of childhood, having spent it in so many different homes, were a bit jumbled.

“Collette?”

“I don't remember.”

Was it a means to an end for her? A necessary step in the healing process? A way to take accountability for her behavior? He wanted to know the root of her need, but he also wanted to know the gain.

Her body began to tremble and he worried she was tearing herself up on the inside while he wasted time trying to comprehend this desire for corporal punishment.

He gently touched her arm. “Come lie across my lap.”

Taking a seat in the chair, he moved the ottoman out of the way and directed her to his lap. Her trembling stopped as her body folded over his legs.

His palm dragged slowly over her behind, treading lightly over one cheek, his nails scraping deliciously against the slap mark on the other. Strange that her body did not quiver once with arousal, yet in bed she could find release from a good swat. He briefly ran his touch between her legs. Dry.

“I'll give you five and then that will be the end of this. You'll accept my decision, as your body's already suffered enough today.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Sir, not
mon Monsieur
. The French term was coined in a moment of confusion, an endearment he cherished from her lips. Yet addressing him as Sir was reserved for general purposes. This was not an intimate moment for her, but personal nonetheless. He wondered if she'd separated the disciplinarian from the lover for a reason.

His palm came down quick, starting with the cheek he'd already marked. He did another and she gasped. The third was on the unmarked cheek, as was the fourth. His chest ached as he prepared for the fifth. Deep down he felt this punishment was undeserved, yet he sensed her need and struggled to fulfill it. It would be totally different had this been an erotic exercise.

The fifth slap came quick and hard on her left buttock. She broke into a sob as her shoulders shook. Carefully, he pulled her to his chest and held her. “I have you. It's over now. I have you.”

She curled into him, soft mews slipping from her throat as though trying to hold them in.

“You may cry, Collette. I won't let go.”

Her fingers tightened on his arm as she pressed her face into the curve of his shoulder and broke. His mind was troubled as he held her, his hand slowly stroking down her spine and rocking her gently. She cried for the better half of an hour and when she finished, she shivered and sniffled every now and again.

He regretted his earlier decision that they sleep apart, but he supposed that made it a fair punishment, being that he should suffer too. Luckily, they still had a few hours left before that time came. As it was, he couldn't let her go. Not in this state.

She fell asleep in his arms and Jude considered taking a nap in the chair, but he didn't want to drift and unintentionally loosen his hold, so he carefully moved her to his bed. In true Collette form, she didn't flinch. He never saw a woman sleep so soundly in his life.

When he was certain she wouldn't be waking anytime soon, he went downstairs and called Ezra, hoping to get his opinion on the spanking situation.

“You're sure she wasn't aroused?”

“Positive.”

“Maybe it's arousing her in a different way.”

“It doesn't feel healthy, Ezra. I've delivered enough floggings in my life to know when someone's reaching a subspace. There isn't the same pivotal switch with this.”

“Yet she didn't want you to spank her the first time.”

He was beginning to wonder if that was a mistake. “No, but then she came to me and offered the paddle.”

“I don't know, Jude. Maybe take her to visit Damien and Sadie and see how she reacts to them.”

He groaned inwardly. “I've never been a sadist.”

“I know. I also know how you treated Brys when he came to pick her up—as you requested. She's pushing you out of character—not that that's necessarily a bad thing to a degree, but we're worried. She's not yours to keep, Jude.”

“I understand that, but she didn't want to go to him. It's complicated, but I know for a fact it was better that I let her stay here.”

“Has she told you she loves you again?”

“No. Not since that day.”

“That doesn't mean she's stopped believing she does.”

He sighed. “Did you not love Lynette?”

Lynette was Ezra's first friend on the scene. She was a dominatrix who could get the best of them to bow. Kneeling was something extremely difficult for men like him, but a necessary experience in order to fully respect the gift of submission. Ezra was her sub for almost a year before he confessed a need to be in charge. It was then he fell in love with her niece, Lea.

“That was a different kind of love,” Ezra argued.

“But still labeled as love.”

Since the day Jude decided it was best she stay, his mind stopped working within timelines and questionnaires. He simply wanted her to stay and found it highly effective to be with her under that assumption. Not banking on an end cleared up a lot of the bullshit that had been clouding his judgment.

He could explain that to Ezra now, but something told him it wasn't the right time. His instinct told him protecting her meant protecting the delicate affection they shared until the time was right to make a move. Though he didn't have a crystal ball, he knew he wouldn't accept her moving on easily—
if
that was what she truly wanted.

That was what everything came down to—what Collette wanted. Her needs would always come before his.

“You have roughly a week left with her, Jude. I think it's smart to start preparing her for that.”

“I own a calendar. I'm aware of the dates.” Every second felt like precious gold slipping through his fingers. “But first I have to get to the bottom of this. I can't qualify the behavior without knowing the root.” He needed to know
her
. All of her.

“Take her to see Damien and Sadie. They're in Fernweh right now, just back from Germany. I'm sure they'd be more than happy to assist.”

***

Time was moving too fast, Collette thought as she helped Sadie with the dishes. They were once again having dinner at one of Jude's friends' homes, but this time Jude explained they would be staying later. She wasn't sure what was coming, but felt the heated tension in the room between their hosts.

Sadie was a very tall, willowy creature with fine bone structure and short pixie-like gray hair. Her hair did not denote her age; its coloring was a natural paling of time, Collette was sure. She estimated Sadie was likely in her midforties. She wore no makeup and her clothing was plain. The only accessory Collette noted was a thin collar around her neck, daintier than the one Lea wore.

Damien, on the other hand, was very formal. He wore a suit while Jude had only dressed in jeans and a T-shirt for dinner. Damien's shoes were Armani. His hair was thick, black, and long, but of the most beautiful sheen she'd ever seen. He seemed taller than he actually was and Collette had trouble looking him in the eye.