Taken (Dark Grove Plantation) (5 page)

The next morning,
Brandon
found himself smiling
down
at the beautiful submissive as she
slept peacefully beside him.

Submissive.

How Ella had changed in the space of one night.  Warm satisfaction filled his chest as he realized that he had finally conquered her, had dominated the infamous Domme of Dark Grove Plantation.
  But he wanted more.  One night with her wasn’t enough.  He wasn’t sure if he could ever get enough of her.
  He gently lifted a lock of her hair and breathed in her delicate scent: lilacs and cotton.
  His cock beg
an to stiffen
at the smell of it, the smell of Ella.

The feeling of his growing hardness against her thigh must have roused her, because her eyes fluttered open and she blinked up at him sleepily, a small smile on her face.  God, she was cute.

“Good morning, kitten.”
  He returned her smile easily.

She froze un
der him, her expression
suddenly
shocked.
  She looked down
at her naked body and
hugged her arms tightly to her, covering herself.  Brandon frowned and grabbed her wrist, trying to pry her arms away from her.

“Don’t hide your body from me,” he ordered.

Her eyes widened, and then her expression turned angry.  She wrenched her hand out of his.  “Don’t you dare order me
around!
”  She snapped.  “It’s morning, and our arrangement is over.  You got what you wanted.”  She stood abruptly, as though desperate to put space between them.  “Where are my clothes?”  She demanded.

Brandon sat up, reaching out for her.  “Ella…”  He began.

She recoiled from him.  “Where are they?”  She hissed, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

He let his hand drop.  “I l
eft your bag on the chair there,” he gestured with a nod of his head.
“
Your outfit from last night is in there as well as your change of clothes.
”

She turned from him, rummaging through the bag and dressing quickly, concealing her body from his gaze.  He felt a pang at the loss.  What was wrong?  Why was she mad at him now
,
after they had shared such a beautiful experience last night?

She rounded on him.  “Take me home,” she demanded.  “I have a lot of work to do today.”

His brow furrowed. 
“
On a Saturday
?”

“Yes,” she snapped.  “It’s not like I exactly get days off with my job.”  Was that… resentment in her tone?

He stood, walking towards her.  “Listen, Ella-”

“Stay away from me!”  She
said,
her voice high and shrill.

He stopped dead in his tracks, running a hand through his hair in frustration.  “Shit, Ella.  I’m sorry…”  He wasn’t exactly sure what he was apologizing for, and his words didn’t seem to mollify her one iota.

“Just take me home,”
she
demanded
,
her voice tight.

She didn’t speak to him for the whole twenty minutes it took to reach her house.  Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn that her eyes were over-bright, glistening with unshed tears.  He had made her
cry? 
Damn it, he had fucked this up so badly.
  But what had he done w
rong?  They both
had
enjoyed last night.  He knew that she had enjoyed it; her four orgasms told him that much.

He thought of the way that she had begged him, had called him “Sir,” and he began to stiffen in his pants all over again.

When he finally pulled up to her house, she got out of the car and slammed the door without so much as a “goodbye.”

He watched her walk into the house, made sure that her door closed behind her.

“Fuck!”  He yelled, bringing his fist down hard on the dashboard.  He had never desired anyone so fiercely, had never had such an intense sexual experience with anyone, and now she didn’t want him?  He had to make this right, had to win her back.

He was determined to do so.

All week, Ella was haunted by memories of her night with Brandon. 
Her perfect, passionate night.
  She had never experienced such sensual delights, had never achieved the peace that she had felt as she submitted to him completely.

“You’re mine, kitten,”
he had said. 
“You belong to me.”

In that moment, she had belonged to him. 
Completely.

And she hated herself for it.
  She hated
him
for it, for making her
question everything she knew about herself.  This wasn’t who she was.  She was the Domme of Dark Grove, for god’s sake.
  She loved dominating men,
needed
it in order to feel like an equal with the men she sparred with in the courtroom.  Any more interactions with Brandon would destroy her skill at what she did, would dismantle her whole self-identity.  She knew they would.
  And she couldn’
t bear the thought of it.

But he had brought her noth
ing but pleasure, pleasure that -
if she was completely h
onest with herself -
surpassed that which she felt when dominating men.  The way he had pushed her boundaries, shattered her barriers, allowed her to have a more meaningful experience with him than she had ever had with anyone.
  And she couldn’t deny that she had love
d
everything he had done to her, had loved being forced.  She had even been turned on by being humiliated, something that she would have never dreamed she would enjoy in a million years.
  But it was as though the very weapons that she used against others were exactly what she needed.  And Brandon was the only man who had ever been brave enough to force her to see that.

And she had to admit, if she had been underperforming at work this week, it was only because she was distracted by her tangled thoughts and self-deprecation; it had nothing to do with the fact that she had allowed a man to dominate her.
  In fact, the only times that she found
any pleasure to break up her misery was when she thought of their night together.  But then she would hate herself for that fact, and the cycle would start all over again.

God, how had Brandon affected her so deeply in such a short time?  She knew that he had been moving in on her for months, putting little cracks in her strong façade,
but
everything had changed now that he had utterly broken her to his will.
  If she wasn’t Ella the Domme, then she didn’t know who she was anymore.  And that scared her.

When she arrived home after work on Friday, she played the messages for the umpteen-millionth time.  She told herself that it wasn’t because she wanted desperately to hear his voice.  It wasn’t.  She just needed to analyze
why
she was compelled to listen to them over and over again.  If
she could figure out the
source of the problem, then she could tear it out by the roots.

“Ella,
it’s
Brandon.  Look, I’m really sorry for last night…  I don’t know
what
…  Anyway, call me back.”

“Ella, what happened yesterday morning?  Are you alright?  I really want to speak with you.  Call me.”

“Ella, it’s been three days.  This is unacceptable behavior.  If you don’t call me back, I’ll…  Just call me.”

“
Ella
.  Answer your damn phone.”

T
he last one was just a soft curse as he disconnected, giving up.

Ella sighed, feeling like shit.  Nope, she still didn’t get it.  Maybe she should listen to the messages again…?

No.  Stop it.
  She knew what she needed
to do
, and it wasn’t to obsess over Brandon.
  She was going
to go to Dark Grove tonight to
find a submissive; she was going to prove to herself that she was a true Domme. 
And if Brandon was there, then all the better.
  He would see what she really was and back the fuck off.  Maybe then she could get her head screwed on straight.

Ella looked down at her short nails and frowned.  Well, it seemed she wouldn’t be able to use one of her signature moves on
a sub for at least a few weeks until they grew back.

“I’m clipping your claws, kitten.  You won’t be scratching me again now, will you?”
 
Something stirred in her be
lly as she remembered his words, how he had physically and mentally robbed her of her defenses
…

She rolled her eyes at herself.

“I don’t permit people to roll their eyes at me.”

God, the man just wouldn’t get out of her head.  She needed to remove him, to purge him.
  She scanned the bar, sipping her rum and coke, giving off her imperious air that so many people found intimidating.

There.  Charlie was across the room.  He was one of her favorite toys.  She could…

No, she couldn’t.  He had told her just last week that he love
d her. It didn’t matter how bad
of a funk she was in; she couldn’t justify hurting him.

Holly was here tonight.  She wasn’t a man, wasn’
t the kind of sub Ella
truly craved to dominate, but she did submit so sweetly.  And Ella always got th
at delicious
, heady
rush when she bent her to
her
will
.

She sauntered over to the couch where Holden held Holly tightly in his lap, pinching and pulling at her nipples.
  Holly wore nothing but a skimpy skirt and an
underbust
corset, so her generous breasts were out for everyone to admire.  And Ella did admire them, appreciated the weight of them in her hand, the way that Holly squealed in
pained
delight as she tortured them.

“Hi,” she
said,
her voice low and throaty.  “How would you feel about playing tonight?”  She addressed Holden, knowing that he was the one who would make the decision, unless Holly protested.  But Ella knew that she wouldn’t, could tell by the way her eyes lit up as she shot Holden a pleading look.
  He smiled down at her, grinning.

“Well, since it seems my sub is so eager, I don’t feel that it would be fair to say
‘no.’  Besides
,” he said, stroking her hair, “she has been very good lately, so I
think
she deserves to get what she wants.”

Holly planted a sweet kiss on his cheek.  “Thank you,” she murmured.

Holden stood abruptly, and Holly squealed in delighted surprise as he threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.
 
“Where to, Mistress?”
  He asked Ella with a small, sardonic bow.

“The main playroom, I think,” she said haughtily.  “I’d like to have an audience.”

And show everyone that I am a Domme. 
Including myself.

Holden and Holly followed her out of the bar and into the playroom where the club had most of their kinky furniture set up.

Ella appraised the room, looking for just the right apparatus.  “The spanking bench, I think,” she said finally.

Holden nodded and then
flopped
Holly down on the padded leather surface unceremoniously.  She gasped as he flipped her over roughly, pinning her wrists down in front of her so that Ella could buckle on the restraints.
  Ella could see her cheeks
pinken
in embarrassment as she realized her predicament.  She was bent forward, her ass on display for everyone to see.  And there was nothing she could do about it.

Ella remembered her own embarrassment at what Brandon had done to her, how it had aroused her so intensely…

No.  Holly.  Focus on Holly.

Feigning her usual coolness, Ella sauntered over to the toy wall and selected her instrument of torment.  The single-tail whip was a bit intense for Holly, but Ella had a point to prove.  And she would be very careful not to use too much force.  She was the best Domme at Dark Grove, after all; she knew how to handle a whip properly.

When she turned back to Holly, she could see that a small crowd had formed, eager to watch her perform.  She had a small sinking feeling in her chest as she saw Charlie looking on longingly, a touch of resentment in his expression as well as he stared at Holly.
  But Ella didn’t have time to think about him right now, so she forced him from her mind.  She would deal with that later.

She approached Holly, cracking the whip through the air as she did so.
  The sub
jumped slightly, and Ella
was pleased to hear her whimper in fearful anticipation.
  As she drew the whip back, she could suddenly feel his eyes on her, boring into her.  Her gaze shifted, and there he was.  Brandon was glaring at her so fiercely that her mind went blank in shock.