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Authors: Allyson Young

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BOOK: Vulnerable
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He opened the door and watched her walk through it and down the hall. She didn’t look back, and a part of him went with her. He had no idea how to reach her if she didn’t come tomorrow night, but he had established his expectations, and now it was up to Elise.

Chapter Two

 

Elise found Emily just where she had left her, curled up in the chair. She was getting tired of going along with her friend’s pursuit of whatever it was she was looking for, and this was the last time she was going anywhere social with her. Social. That was a laugh. This was a place where women, and probably men, too, seeing as there had been some members of the opposite sex in the waiting area, went off with some dominant person and did things. Things that involved sex. There was no familiar social aspect about it, although Elise didn’t have much to compare socialization to.

The idea of those sexual things Ross talked about made her panties damp and terrified her at the same time. Ross Lassiter drew her like absolutely no man had done before. The man oozed sex appeal with his tall, really large, muscular frame. She actually felt average sized in his presence, and he had made none of the usual cracks about her height. And he had checked her out with obvious interest and satisfaction, yet without making her feel sleazy. His light-blue eyes had been mesmerizing in his sun-darkened face. The way his shiny, brown hair was caught back in a tie at the nape of his neck was reminiscent of the pirates in her childhood books. She hadn’t been able to look at his hands without thinking about how they would feel on other parts of her body. She also hadn’t wanted him to release her when she pulled away from him, and that astonished her.

Elise rarely paid attention to men other than as students, friends, or potential danger. Ross didn’t fit any of those categories. He felt dangerous but not in a physical kind of way, and Elise found herself wanting to explore this thing, as bizarre as it sounded. Maybe it was like those desensitization treatments one got for allergies. Elise nearly laughed out loud at the idea of Ross Lassiter being compared to a such a thing, like a shot in the arm every month.

She had felt no serious concern when he had locked the door, even when she realized what the room was intended for. That should make no sense to her. She didn’t trust anyone and didn’t leave her safety to chance, but she hadn’t been afraid. Perhaps part of it was the fact that Emily had made it through the initial information sessions without dropping out. Her friend had spoken glowingly of all the fail safes and security, so different from the night clubs and parties she attended. Yet Emily had been the one to chicken out tonight. Elise wondered at that, but Em was the stereotypical flighty blonde, so maybe that explained it, except Elise had gotten the odd impression from time to time that Emily hid behind that stereotype. Elise herself was excellent at hiding, so she tended to notice it in other people. But Emily was well defended if that was the case.

On the other hand, Ross’s explanation, as streamlined as it had been, made total sense. She had become a strong, independent woman out of dire necessity, and there were times when she longed to let someone else shoulder that burden, and take care of her, even some of the time. She had been forced to become strong and independent to overcome her experiences with that crazy family she had married into. She had to change and be responsible for herself or simply give up and sink without a trace. She never let anyone, ever, see the vulnerable, anxious woman inside of her. That was why her inner self was so safe. Elise taught young adults, men and women not many years younger than she, at thirty-four, and held both their interest and respect because of her professionalism. The problem was, she could never relax and let anyone in. Not anyone, because she dare not leave herself open to be hurt once they learned about how damaged she was. They would either take advantage or turn away in disgust, she was certain. Instead she met her needs by becoming a helper, a caregiver for those she called her friends, like Emily, and volunteered, doing good deeds. Putting herself last kept her shit together and kept her out of the spotlight. She was also as celibate as a nun.

“Elise!” Emily exclaimed. “Where did you go? What happened?”

“I went with Mr. Lassiter and talked about this place, Emily,” Elise explained. “I’m not sure this is somewhere you’re going to meet that man of your dreams. Maybe you need to find a singles group or something at a church club.” Elise smiled to herself at the dichotomy, eliciting a sharp look from Em.

She urged Emily toward the exit, chatting about how nice Emily looked in her cute little leather outfit, hoping to distract her and avoid further questions. As usual, her strategy worked, because Emily was quite self-absorbed. Then the little woman pouted and whined all the way home, with Elise paying attention to the road and nodding and making small noises to pretend her interest. She pulled up in front of Emily’s place with relief. She would never abandon Emily, because she sensed the survivor in the other woman, a match for the one in her, and knew the anxious, bitchy, almost narcissistic behavior was a strong, well-honed defense mechanism that sometimes reeked of desperation. It was the opposite of the blonde persona. Emily was searching for something, while Elise had abandoned the search over fourteen years ago. Except something had just appeared to find her.

“So, how about hitting some of the dance clubs tomorrow night?” Emily suggested as she got out of the car.

Elise shook her head. “No thanks, Em. Once a week is my limit. See you.” She hardly waited for Emily to slam the door before she put the car in drive and accelerated away, ignoring the prick of her conscience. She had just lied to Emily. She was pretty sure she was going back to see Ross tomorrow night. Normally not an impulsive person, she felt she had to see how this played out, and he had been refreshingly honest with her. She knew that going to that club was complying and only a small part of the real surrender he would want from her. She wouldn’t think about the rest but take it a step at a time, and at her pace if possible. She felt alive and realized she was experiencing sexual attraction, something she hadn’t felt since her teen years. Her solitary self-pleasuring was infrequent and random, and in response to an inability to sleep, a nameless frustration.

 

* * * *

 

Elise checked her look in the mirror one more time before snatching up her keys. She had tossed and turned for the initial part of the previous night before getting up and researching BDSM on the Net. After reading for some time, she accepted it was her choice to make and that she would have the power in the D/s relationship, although it wasn’t the kind of power that would burden her. It felt like a life ring thrown to a drowning man. She had then had slept like a log. She cleaned her apartment and graded papers the next day, and the hours had flown by. It was only after she showered and faced her nonexistent out-on-a-date clothing choices that Elise started to second-guess herself. She finally pulled on a lightweight dress over some pretty panties and stepped into the same sandals from the night before. She clipped her freshly washed hair back, adding a pair of simple hoops to her ears. She swiped a mascara wand over her lashes and used a touch of lip gloss, and she was ready.

Her palms were a bit sweaty and her pussy seemed to thrum whenever she thought about Ross and remembered the pictures and captions from the research she had done. It was kinky and perverted in an arousing way, and she let herself respond with only a modicum of guilt and shame. Real perversions were far more familiar to her and didn’t take place in a club but in what should have been the privacy and safety of her own home.

The club doorman took her name and ushered her inside. He raised an eyebrow slightly, and Elise realized that he had known she’d slipped in with the group the night before. She smiled at him, and he beamed back at her. Elise wondered if she had just made a friend. Too strange. She had a possible boyfriend who just happened to be a Dom, and had made friends with a bouncer at a BDSM club. All extraneous thoughts fled when she saw Ross coming toward her. He was intent on her, focused, and she shivered, her underwear suddenly chafing between her legs. He was huge in his dark shirt and leather pants, and he had a whip tied around his waist. Elise’s stomach hit the floor and she involuntarily backed up.

“Hello, Elise. Having second thoughts?” he nearly purred.

“No, Ross,” she answered. “At least not until I saw your belt.”

Ross laughed and Elise loved the dark, velvety sound.

“Mostly for show, honey,” he said. “Although I am accomplished with it. And you will call me Sir.”

Elise took his outstretched hand and followed him into the same room where they had met the night before, trying to ignore the dark thrill of his command and keep her wits about her. This time the bed was stripped, with the exception of the bottom sheet. The restraints were still evident. Her breathing hastened, her heart began to pump harder, and her pussy began to weep. Ross was nothing but honest, that was clear. He had warned her, and still she had come.

“You look beautiful in that dress, Elise,” he said. “Now remove it.”

Elise felt the blood roaring in her ears. She thought her legs would fold under her and fought to answer him.

“There is no answer required, Elise. Simply compliance.”

Elise reached down for the hem and pulled the dress over her head and stood there uncertainly. Ross motioned to the hall tree in the corner and she numbly walked over and hung the garment up. The built-in shelf bra in the dress had negated wearing her usual staid choice of that article of clothing, so now she was wearing only her lace briefs and her sandals. She felt both exposed and incredibly sexy and wondered if he could read her. Of course he could. That was his role, and he had said he was good at what he did. She believed him.

“Come here, Elise. Your safe word is
journey
.”

She forced herself to turn and face him, and the look of intense desire on his features nearly had her reaching for her clothing before she saw another expression in his eyes. He somehow knew what this was costing her and was proud of her for taking the chance. She walked to him. He had removed his shirt, and his cut torso and muscled arms spoke to her. Ross motioned for her to stop just in front of him and reached out to touch her nipples, just a brief graze on each with his forefinger. They instantly hardened even more and actually ached. Elise closed her eyes and held back a whimper.

“Open your eyes and keep them open and on me, Elise.” Ross’s voice cracked like the whip he wore around his waist.

Elise instantly complied and met his gaze. Those light-blue eyes now shone with passion and something else she couldn’t identify. He looked so dominant and determined, and Elise wanted to touch him. She tentatively lifted a hand.

“I didn’t give you permission to touch me, Elise. You will wait until I do.”

For a brief moment, Elise rebelled and felt her mouth set in a thin line. All dissenting thoughts fled, however, when Ross leaned into her, dipping his head, and closed his mouth over her left nipple and bit down, just to the point of pain. Elise couldn’t contain her whimper this time, and Ross used his tongue and teeth to greater impact. Elise wondered if her knees would hold her and actually swayed when he switched his attentions to her other breast. His hands came up to her waist and held her steady, and Elise gave herself up to the sensations, her head lolling on her shoulders. She moaned in protest when he stopped. She felt him slide her briefs down and willingly stepped out of them.

“Kneel.”

Elise dropped to her knees before him without giving it a thought. It just felt like the right thing to do.

“Knees apart, shoulders back, hands on your thighs, palms up.”

Elise held the position while Ross walked around her, making minute corrections to her posture with gentle taps. She was surprised at how natural it felt and how sexy and proud it made her feel.

“This is the position you will take every time we meet in a situation like this, Elise, regardless of who is in the room with us. Am I clear?”

Elise took a deep breath. She wanted to believe that Ross would never embarrass her or put her at risk, but she really didn’t know him. She was pushing every boundary right now, actually, he was, and she couldn’t process what it would mean if someone else were with him.

“Elise?”

“I want to agree…” she began.

“I am not asking for your agreement. This is not about negotiating. This is about putting your trust in me and accepting that I won’t put you in a position you can’t handle or one that will humiliate you.” Ross’s voice was like a cold January morning, and Elise shivered.

“Yes,” she said, hearing the arousal and anxiety mixing in her voice.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Ross’s voice softened. “You are doing very well, Elise. Now go and sit on the end of the bed, feet on the floor, knees apart.”

Elise did as she was told, taking his offered hand to help her stand, then perching on the high bed, and allowing her knees to drift apart. Ross knelt between them.

“Lie back and spread your legs as far apart as is comfortable. I want to see your pussy,” he ordered.

Moisture flowed from her, dampening her folds, and Elise wondered at how her body responded to his assertive demands. She never got aroused like this, not in forever. She should be embarrassed and uncomfortable, but the look on his face told her how special this was.

BOOK: Vulnerable
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