Quod Me Nutrit Me Destruit: That Which Destroys Me with The Alternate Ending (5 page)

Defying a Dom

Can someone tell me why the
HELL
I’m in club known for BDSM? I’m so damn nervous I can hardly sit still. Plus, this damn dress keeps riding up and if I pull it down any further my tits are gonna fall out of the top.

I cannot believe I let Eve and Trina talk me into this shit.

Let’s go to a BDSM bar and see how they party they said.

It will be fun they said.

Yeah, sorry, I’ll stop.

Once I gain the bartender’s attention, I smile, “Hey.
Ahh… Can I have another glass of white Zin?” He nods at my hand. “Oh, you want to see my stamps?” I hold my hand and smile again. “I’m not sure why I got them, but this shit better wash off before Monday.”

“Stamps, plural.
Two-drink maximum, babe. Sorry. You’ve had your two.” He turns to walk away and I try to stop him.

“Two fucking drink maximum? What the fuck kind of bar has a two drink maximum?” He just shakes his head and continues moving towards the other end of the bar.

“Seriously? Are you fucking kidding me you asshole?! It’s a bar!”

“A bar where
Doms come to find subs. A bar where Doms bring their subs. No one wants a drunk Dom that takes shit too far. And no one needs a drunk sub that forgets her safe word.” Wesley’s voice is like dark chocolate covered sin, his words are smooth as silk sliding from his tongue. Instantly, I am soaked between my thighs.

Hell no I don’t have panties on either. Who the hell wears panties anymore? Oh, right… The smart bitches.
SHIT!

I briefly wonder if I can play deaf - pretend I don’t know he’s talking to me. But when his large warm hand circles my arm above my elbow and gently squeezes - well, even I know the shudder that goes through every molecule of my body is one that’s clearly visible.

Before I can turn around his lips brush my ear and he softly speaks, “I saw that, Ms. Reese.”

I turn nudging my face into him before I can make sense of my body language. “Why does that not surprise me, Wesley Jacobs? Of course you notice the things I rather you wouldn’t.”

He runs his nose from behind my ear to the nape of my neck, planting his face into my hair before breathing in deeply and whispering, “I don’t know what the fuck that means. Honestly, I don’t care.” His grip on my arms tighten and he pulls my back flush against his massive chest and torso. Immediately, I become aware of his massive erection. I cannot keep the smirk from my face if I wanted too. “Come with me, Stella. We have a lot to talk about, love.”

If I were smart, if I had more wine in me, I’d do exactly what I should—I’d tell him to fuck off. But I’ve only had two glasses of wine and apparently, I’m not as fucking smart as I thought I was.

I nod, wave goodbye to my friends and follow Wesley fucking Jacobs out of the BDSM bar.

Yeah… How you like those cookies? They look sweet. Fuck it, I guess we’ll see, won’t we?

Once we’re at his black looking sports  car—I have no idea if it’s a Hyundai or a Jag—he opens the passenger door for me and moves the stuff from the seat to the back of the car before stepping aside. “My place?” he asks as I slide into the softest fucking leather seat my ass has ever graced.

I nod before he shuts the door and quickly makes his way around the hood of his car to the
drivers side.

Once we’ve driven a little while in silence, I feel obligated to speak, to explain some shit before we get to his house. “Wesley, I’m only coming to your place for a drink, maybe two. If you want to talk about the internship that would be great, I’m excited. I was
… Umm, nervous about it -  well, I’m still nervous, but…”

His laughter cuts my rambling off. “I wasn’t talking about the internship when I said we had shit to talk about. Yes, two drinks. Maybe three. What I have to say… Well, we’re both going to need more than the two little drinks served at Chained.”

I try to swallow and it turns into an audible gulp.

Shit!

“Ahh, okay. Maybe three. What is the topic you’d like to discuss, exactly?”

His chuckle causes my skin to break out in chill bumps. “After drink one, yeah?”

“What? You have to get another drink in me before even telling me the topic?” I scoff mocking scandal.

“Hell fucking yes, I do.” He shakes his head with the devil’s grin dancing across his face. A few moments later, he flips the blinker before pulling into a parking garage directly on Park fucking Ave. I can’t help it. My jaw falls into my damn lap.

“What you need to pick something up from Hermes?” I ask looking around and laughing but not being funny
AT ALL
.

“What?” He glances over and looks at me like I’ve lost my damn mind. “Hermes? Hell no. For one it’s ten thirty at night and the only fucking thing I have in my closet is Armani.”

“Oh…” I tug up my dress.

Fuck yes! The damn girls are spilling out again.

“My dress came from Saks. Well, the discount rack at Saks.”

Now his mouth drops open. “Saks?” Then the cocky bastard mouths ‘Wow’.

“Yes, fucking Saks, why?”

“I just… I don’t know. It looks like it was handmade for you. That’s all.” He shrugs and pulls into a parking spot. Before my mind can register what the hell I’m doing here - with him - he has my door open and he’s pulling me from the car by my hand.

When we make it to… hell, I don’t know -  floor three hundred and seventy-five? The top floor, of course - the elevator doors part to reveal his ‘home’. If that’s what you can call it.

We enter the main entrance and walk onto the marble floor of the grand foyer where he unloads his keys, wallet, and cell phone on a long table. When I glance past the foyer and see plush white carpet, I kick my heels off which causes Wes to look over his shoulder and down at my feet before laughing.

“What?” I ask confused but more embarrassed over my knee jerk reaction.

Who sees white fucking carpet and doesn’t kick off their shoes? Well, if you don’t you’re either an asshole or your shoes are brand fucking new.

“Nothing.” His hand grasps mine before pulling me forward. “Your feet are cute as shit, that’s all. What do you drink?”

I let him pull me past the living room, through the dining room and into another sitting area with a bar. Yes.
A full bar. Liquor bottles lined up—the whole nine.

He pulls a bar stool out - again, yes. A barstool. I said the whole damn nine - I scoot my bottom up onto the stool as ladylike as possible. “Ms. Reese? What. Would. You. Like. To. Drink?”

“Oh, wine.” I smile up at him behind the bar and watch his eyebrow lift up.

“Any particular wine or can I just grab the old box of
Franzia from the back of kitchen pantry?”

My face scrunches up at the mention of
Franzia. “White Zin, Riesling or Moscato. I like sweet wines.”

“That I can do.” He nods, pouring himself a scotch after he hands me a glass of Riesling.

He literally drains his glass of scotch - less than three sips - swear to God. That, in turn, causes my nervousness to reappear and I follow suit by downing my glass of wine.

When I look back at Wes, he has that damn grin across his face that as a child I dreamed of and pined
for, directed squarely on me.

“God-fucking-dammit, Stella. You are so beautiful.” His brows furrow before he looks down into his empty glass.

“Thank you?” I duck my head embarrassed at the way I ended my statement with a question.

What the hell is wrong with me? He is just a man. He is a human. He is not a God, he is required to shower, shave, and brush his teeth just like every one else in order to remain healthy…and attractive.

Fuck, he is attractive too.

I let my eyes roam over him. My fingers itch to run through his short dark brown hair. My eyes could gaze into his bright green ones for hours. His wide shoulders cause my mind to wonder how it would feel being under him, surrounded by him.
And his face? Holy cheese and crackers. It’s just as beautiful, if not more now with the smile lines around his eyes and on both cheeks where his dimples hide.

“I need to talk to you about something. Before you react…” Wes’s eyes stay locked on mine as he rounds the bar and makes us another drink, never pausing in his speech. “…I need you to hear me out. I don’t want you to speak until I’ve finished. Is that understood?” I nod, too afraid to say yes in case he meant from the moment the words fell from his lips.

“Good. I hope that you understand, or it has dawned on you why I was at Chained tonight. Has it?”

My head nods yes again and I maintain eye contact.

“Good. So you understand that I am a Dom. I am dominant in every aspect of my life, my sexual life included. I have, over the last year, dated—well, not so much dated, more like fucked—strictly vanillas. In my mind, if they were kinky enough to allow me to be in total control, allow me to act out my fantasies, as well as feed the sadist within me, there was no reason to visit Chained or seek out a long term Dom/sub relationship. I’ve gone through hundreds of vanillas and quite frankly, Stella, I’m still a fucking starved man. Do you understand?”

Again, I simply nod.

The hand holding his tumbler of scotch stops on its way to his mouth and he points a finger at me around it.

“You, Ms. Reese. I want you.” I watch somewhat fascinated as his lips press against the tumbler before sipping his drink. My eyes follow his hand as he sets his drink down. When he clears his throat, it causes me to quickly look back up into his eyes.

“So. Here’s how this is going to go. I will test you. I will bend you. I will push you. Much further than you’ve ever been pushed. Not only on a professional level and a personal level, but sexually as well. My question is: Do you think you can handle me? All of me? Everywhere. I will be inside your mind, your soul, I will scratch so fucking far past your surface that you will be flayed open, exposed to only me.” He picks his drink back up and pauses before taking a sip, keeping his eyes locked on mine over the rim of his crystal tumbler.

He sets his glass down and walks until he’s standing directly in front of me. Using his thigh, he nudges my legs apart first before sliding his hips between my open thighs causing my dress to ride up so high, the question of whether or not I’m wearing panties is clearly visible. His huge hands cup my face before tilting it back until our mouths are only inches apart. His green eyes pierce mine as he declares, “I’m going to consume you, devour you - mind, body, and soul… You will be so immersed in me that I will be the only thing you see, feel, hear, taste, and smell. I’m going to fucking ruin you, Stella, so I ask—are you ready?”

Anxiety is already running through me, and every word falling from his mouth is making me more nervous, causing it to become so much harder for me to be able to concentrate.

“Wesley, I’m not—well, first of all, I’m not a sub, or a submissive.” My eyes dart around the room, assessing it for those slider bars, riding crops, and crosses that I read about in my books. However, my eyes can only see so much with both of his huge hands still holding my face. His eyes continue staring into mine, patiently waiting for an answer.

“Stella, have you even considered the possibility that you are?” His hands cupping my face begin to glide down my neck, brushing their way across my chest as they slide over the top of my breast. His large, calloused palms slide over the silk of my dress until he reaches where my skirt is pulled up.  The beautiful devious grin he flashes me has me nearly begging for him; all of the promises he laid out  moments ago whirling through my mind.

A moan escapes my throat and my head lolls back as his hand slides between my legs until he is sliding over my drenched swollen pussy and sinks a long deft finger inside me. He pulls out and sinks two fingers curling them up as his thumb circles my clit. “Holy. Fuck.
Ohmygod.” I whine, instantly on the verge of begging.

“
Mmmm,” His nose nuzzles my ear before he sinks his teeth into my earlobe. “Fucking wet little cunt wants me doesn’t it, Ms. Reese?”

“Shit. Wow. Holy shit.” I sputter. I can feel it already begin to pull as lights blink into my vision.