A Dominant Man (21 page)

The ride up has an awkward vibe, arousal mixed with a nervous energy. I know where we’re about to go, and even
though I should be scared, I’m not. I feel electrified and curious. I imagine it to be like the Artemis with sex swings hanging from the ceiling and every device to cause pleasure and pain. Who knows what to expect from a torture chamber.

I catch Damian peering down at me, an anxious gleam in his eyes, yet his body remains calm, collected as always. I squeeze his hand to reassure and let him know it’s ok, we’re ok.

“I don’t know what you’re so nervous about. Whatever lies behind the door isn’t going to make me run,” I assure.

“I wish I could believe that,” Hunt replies grimly, with an incredulous stare.

“I wish you could, too.”

The car stops, and the doors part to reveal an exquisite entryway with cherry wood paneling and black marble floors. A spectacular chandelier casts the small room in a soft glow.

We reach a single ominous, cherry wood door. He extracts a key from his coat pocket and unlocks it. I hear the click and inhale a long, deep breath to steady myself.

“I don’t know what you’re so nervous about,” Hunt repeats back to me, and I softly smack him on the arm. “So violent, Hyde.”

“Oh, shut up and open the door.”

He pushes on
the door, and it sluggishly creeps open to expose an inviting atmosphere decorated with mahogany wood furniture and fireplace. The floors are polished mahogany garnished by a shaggy, white area rug. Large bouquets of white lilies are arranged in crystal vases scattered throughout the living room.
I wonder if he had them put here for me.

A
n antique, Georgian sofa sits in front of the fireplace to our left. It has an arched back with downswept armrests and mahogany detailing, upholstered in a white silky fabric. Large black curtains hang on either side of a large window overlooking the buzzing city below. I love it from the moment I step inside the opulent space. I don’t care who has been here before me, I want him to take me.

“Well?” he asks, trying to convey a confident demeanor, but I know better.

“It’s extraordinary. I love what I’ve seen this far.”

“Let me give you a tour.”

“There’s only one room I wish to see.”

“Follow me,” he softly orders with a sexy smirk.

Damian disappears down a shadowy hallway to our right, and I follow him to the last door where he hesitates. His breathing is rugged, head slumped a little.

“It’s ok, Damian.
” I rub his back, attempting to calm his nerves. “Let me see.”

H
e takes a deep breath and opens the door wide, stepping aside. My heart pounds as I step through, stunned by what I discover.

Testing Limits

I
’m dumfounded by the beautiful elegance of the room. I was expecting…well, a dungeon with devices hanging from the walls and ceiling, but this is comfortable, inviting. A giant four-post bed sits against the wall straight ahead of us, placed between two tall, narrow windows with black curtains.

The bed has a massive, intricately carved headboard with black satin sheets and an ombré, faux fur comforter adorning the enormous mattress. There are gorgeous, antique pieces about the room, a dresser, side tables, chest, and a cabinet, all mahogany like the bed frame.

The walls are covered in a dark grey wallpaper with a stunning, hidden, ornamental pattern, only revealed when the sunlight graces it just right. The floor is a dark polished wood with a huge white rug covering a majority.

But what
grabs my attention are the B&W photographs displayed proudly on the wall, more of the naked, female form. Except this time, a strapping, virile male joins them. These are far more graphic in nature, of masked slaves bound, gagged, and subdued, tied up intricately in various bondage positions, while the well-formed male performs disciplinary acts upon them.

I take a closer look at the male’s familiar physique and realize the Dominant in question is Hunt, my Hunt, my Dominant. I spot a few
less suggestive photos scattered amongst the others. One in particular catches my eye, a profile of the impassioned lovers. The back of Hunt’s head is covering a woman’s face as he attacks her neck. Her torso’s arched, ass and upper back pressed against Hunt’s naked, statuesque form. His arms are strategically wrapped about her breasts and womb, as her hands cling desperately to the top forearm.

“That’s you?”

“Yes, it is. Does that bother you?”

“The thought doesn’t thrill me, but I’m alright with it, with them.
They certainly shock, but they’re art, that’s what they’re supposed to do.” I shrug.

I’m curio
us about the toys, and why they aren’t displayed. I’m not oblivious to his lifestyle. I know what type of instruments they use on one another. I want to ask him, but I decide to wait, allow him to present them to me. Another thought pops into my head.

“Did they sleep in here?”

“No. They had their own quarters at the beginning of the hall, near the living room.”

“Did you ever sleep here with them?”

“Yes, I would sleep here after a late night at the office, but they were never allowed in my bed…to sleep anyway.”

“How close is your office from here?”

“You can see it from here, just across the street.”

I cross the room to the wall
opposite of us and gaze out the left side window. There is a monstrous, very sleek, very modern glass building towering over us.

“Nice. That’s where I’ll be working.”

“Yes, on the floor just below mine. In fact, your office is right where my desk is positioned.”

I spin around to meet his calm gaze. “My office?”

“Yes, your office. I feel it appropriate for your new position.”

“Which position might that be?” I ask with an arched brow, and he smiles devilishly.

“I’m referring to your new position as Assistant Editor. You’ve been promoted. I was going to tell you last night, but with everything that has occurred, it slipped my mind.”

“Is this because I’m currently bedding the boss?”

His expression shows disgust for my shitty comment. “First and foremost, you are my girlfriend, not some whore. Second, I am your boyfriend not just your boss. The fact that you think we’re a flash in the bucket pisses me off. You’re mine. You belong to me, forever.”

“You want me,
forever?”

“Yes, I know perfection when I find it. You don’t give that up…not easily anyway.”

“You’re a little intense. You’re indecisive one week, and the next you’re positive I’m the one. You don’t even know if I can give you what you need.”

“I need you, Gabrielle.
I thought you understood this. Really, babe, try to keep up.”

“Being with you is like riding the teacups at Disneyland, f
un, but you start seeing double and you’re dizzy as hell.”

He chuckles and saunters over to me in
a few magnificent, animalistic strides, grasping me in his arms and laying his cheek on my head. I nuzzle it against his chest. He smells heavenly.

“Take a deep breath
and hold on tight,” he replies, running his hand along my back. “I care about you to the point my heart actually aches.”

Hunt’s words are always filled with love for me. He loves me. It radiates off him.

“I care more for you than I can comprehend. My hearts moving faster than my head, and it’s befuddling.”

He squeeze’s
me tighter. “I know I can be overwhelming, but I want you to promise me you won’t leave me,” he says, anguished.

“I promise I won’t leave you.” That isn’t something I can honestly guarantee, but I yearn for it to be true, and he needs it. “What about you?” I ask.

“I promise never to leave you.”

There’s a softness to his voice, and I allow myself to believe
wholeheartedly. I have to get off the subject. I pull back and look up into his eyes.

“So, I’ve been promoted?”

“Yes, but you won’t start the position until you’ve made the move to corporate on Wednesday.”

“Good
. Only a few more days of working closely with Olivia.”

“No, not exactly. You know longer work directly under her. You have the first half of the week off. I found out she was making you miserable this past week, and you don’t deserve that.”

“Hunt, I don’t want you to fight my battles for me. You can’t protect me from everyone. That being said, thank you. Now the question is, what am I supposed to do with myself for the next few days?”

“
I have a business trip I’ll be on for the next couple of days…”

I stare down at my feet. “Oh,” I mutter, disappointed.

“I want you to come with me.”

“That’s a very nice offer, but I don’t want to smother you.”

“Please do. I want you to smother me. I wouldn’t have invited you to join me if I didn’t want you around.”

“Ca
n we discuss this further, tonight? Right now, I really want to see your equipment.” A devilish grin slowly creeps across his sultry lips. “You know what I meant.”

He
releases his hold on me and amble’s to the dark cabinet to my right and unlocks it. He opens the doors to present a red silk lined closet with his pieces hanging neatly. There are paddles, floggers, handcuffs, whips, riding crops, collars, leashes, ball gags, and blindfolds.

While I’m scan
ning the contents of his stash, I spot a black mask sitting on the top shelf. It’s not a leather
/
pleather S&M mask, but an intimidating masquerade mask that hides the face from hairline to the upper lip. It’s hypnotic with a menacing undertone.

“Your mask is incredible.”
I comment, and Hunt laughs uproariously. “What’s funny about that?”

“Out of every toy in here you focus on the mask.”

“It’s the piece most representative of you.”

Damian’s smi
le fades, and he’s replaced with serious faced Hunt. “You see through mine like no one else.”

“Yes, I see the cracks you try to hide,” I reply gently and then ask as if none of this fazes me, “Is this it, or is there more?”

“Aren’t you disgusted or scared by any of this?”

“Anxious or curious are more what I’m leaning towards.”

“You amaze me.”

I smile at him with my horny grin and lick my
bottom lip. He lets out a groan and walks over to the chest sitting at the foot of the bed, lifting the lid. It’s lined in red silk as well. When he pulls on the top shelf, it brings out the others hidden below  like stairs.

“Where do you acquire all this stuff?”

“The SoMa district has a huge underground BDSM culture. The Folsom street fair is a massive event held every year for my kind. Though, I’ve never been. I’d prefer not to expose my private life when my public one is constantly under a microscope.”

“I know what you mean,” I sigh.

“Do you know what any of these objects are?” he inquires, attempting to change the subject when he notices the sorrowful look on my face.

“Yes, I do,
” I reply with a small voice.

“Ok. Tell me what you know.”

I list them off. “Vibrators, butt plugs, clamps…”

“Now the cabinet.
” I go through those, too, with the exception of a few I don’t know. “I don’t know whether I should be impressed or terrified.”

“You should be petrified.
I’m actually a Dominatrix planning to bring you to your knees.”

He chortles and shakes his head.

“I can’t say I hate the idea.”

“You want to be my sub?” I giggle.

“I would get immense satisfaction from being dominated by you.”

“
Wait. Really? You would let me?”

“Well, if you’re the Dominator, I don’t see how I could let you do anything.” He licks his lips slowly. “I would definitely let you do what you will to me. Not all the time, but I would like to see what you’ve got. Who knows
, maybe it could help you gain a sense of control over your past.”

“You always surprise me. You aren’t what I expected you to be.”

“What did you expect?”

“I expected a stubborn, serious, control freak, who treats everyone as if they were beneath him, but you aren’t at all. You’re an amazing man, who takes really good care of me and treats me like a princess. You have a beautiful heart, great sense of h
umor, and brilliant mind. Still a tad on the controlling side, but I consider myself incredibly lucky.”

Hunt’s face is grieved as if everything I just said cut him to the bone.

“No, you were right. I am a stubborn, stern, control freak who hardly smiled prior to you. I’ve never behaved like this before, and it’s all very new to me. I’m not whom you think I am.”

“You are exactly
whom
I think you are. You just can’t see it.” I don’t like the turn this conversation has taken and change the subject back to why we’re here. “Will you give me an example of what you do?”

He appears hesitant, but I can tell he really wants to.

“Please, Mr. Hunt.”

Darkness and desire washes over his eyes, a sexy smile crawls onto his li
ps. “With pleasure, Miss Hyde.”

He saunters back to the cabinet, exuding sex.

“Mask, Mr. Hunt?”

“Of course, Miss Hyde.”

With his wide back turned to me, he slips the mask over his head and casually removes his jacket, hanging it on a hook on the door.

“
When I give you an order or require an answer, I want you to acknowledge my command or query with a reply and my surname. Clear?”

“Yes, Mr. Hunt,”

“Very good, Gabrielle. Now remove your shoes.”

“Yes, Mr. Hunt.”
I kick them off, and they go flying in different directions.

“And
the dress.”

He’s still facing the cabinet
, pondering what kinky devices he’s going to use on me. I slide my dress off anxiously. I stand quietly, in only my garter and underwear, anticipating, waiting patiently for his next command.

“
I want you to stand at the end of the bed and face the door.” I stride over to the end and face the door as ordered.

“That’s my girl,
” he proudly commends.

The anticipation is killing me.

I hear the slapping of leather and the high-pitch clanking of metal as he selects his mystery items from the cabinet. I hear the firm sound of the doors latching closed, his heavy footsteps muffled by the carpet. I hear noises behind me as he tosses the objects onto the bed and the sound of the curtains closing, immersing us in darkness for an instant before muted lights bring back my sight.

Suddenly,
the slow strum of a guitar twangs throughout the room, accompanying a smooth male voice sensually tempting, persuading his lover to give in. Then a sluggish beat begins to set the tone, a darker tone, gradually picking up the pace. An aloof female voice joins in, convincing him she can’t surrender to his desires. A whipping noise repeatedly snaps throughout the room as the beat builds and heightens, playing into my red-hot desire to be taken and possessed by Hunt.

The anticipation causes the n
erves to work overtime, twisting my stomach into knots, drumming my heart against my chest plate, causing my sensitive skin to vibrate with a tingling numbness. My cleft pines for his mouth, his hands, his cock. I hear a click on my right, then a few seconds later, a click to my left.