Goal Line (The Dartmouth Cobras Book 7) (30 page)

Chuckling, he lifted her off his lap, rising smoothly above her and holding out his hand. She offered her hand, but he took hold of her wrist instead. Drawing her to her feet, he swiftly spun her around, pinning her against him with her back to his chest.

His breath caressed the flesh of her neck as he brushed his lips along her throat. Then he whispered in her ear, “I’ll regret nothing, Sahara. But you might.”

She shook her head, absolutely positive anything he did to her would be perfect.

“We shall see.” He released her and stepped back, leaving her to steady herself as he strode toward the bedroom.

Her brow furrowed, she followed him. Wasn’t he going to give her an order? Restrain her, maybe spank her? Something?

Standing in the doorway, she stared at him as he swiftly dressed in a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt. “Sir?”

“This room will be tidy when I return. And you will be wearing the red dress, waiting for me.” He glanced around the room, shaking his head. “You will learn to take better care of your things.”

“Okay…” She wrinkled her nose. They were starting her submission with chores? And he was leaving. “When will you be back?”

“Shortly.” He stepped up to her, tapping her under the chin when she scowled at her feet. “Have you forgotten what you asked for already, pet?”

“I can’t submit to you if you’re not here.”

His lips twitched with amusement. “You can, and you will. That will be your first lesson.”

“What’s the second one?”

He kissed her forehead, then headed toward the door, not answering until he was halfway out.

“Patience.”

A little more than an hour passed before Dominik was on his way back to the hotel, carrying a bag full of fruit and a black paper bag with black ribbon handles. His strides were long and he’d worked up a bit of a sweat in the trek to the fruit stand, the kink shop, and back. In New York, with a quick Google search, finding the stores that suited his needs hadn’t been difficult. Resisting the urge to take a cab and cut the travel time in half had been the real challenge.

The lesson of patience wouldn’t be taught if he rushed though. They’d reached another level, and his heart swelled as he envisioned the beauty in Sahara’s triumph, the moment when she owned her strength without a slip of doubt. Neither her mother nor Grant could take that strength from her if she continued to nurture it. And he would help her in every way he knew how.

That she’d slacked on her self-defense training, despite how much it empowered her, concerned him. Was she trying to please her mother by not being too tough? After meeting the woman, it wasn’t a stretch to believe Sahara had very skewed ideas of how a “lady” should behave. Her upbringing could have a lot to do with how long she’d tolerated Grant’s abuse. Grant was the kind of man her mother would approve of. The right earning bracket. The right family.

The right color.

Her mother’s ignorance had stung, but he wouldn’t allow the woman to take up space in his mind. Whether or not Sahara chose to train simply for an outlet, or because she was damn good at it and wanted to explore competing or eventually training others, he would make her see the benefits. Dealing with the memories of her abuse was much like dealing with the death of a loved one. In a way, the young, innocent woman she’d once been had died during her suffering. And time didn’t erase what she’d lost.

But time would teach her how to keep living. To close that chapter in her life and learn how to manage when her book fell open on those dark pages. If sparring with him, or with those she trained with, gave her a sense of peace, then they had the master key to all the doors she needed to open to move on.

And it was having that key within reach that had him willing to accept her complete submission.

He was eager to explore Sahara’s needs and discover how well they aligned with his own, but she needed some space from him to fully absorb what it was she’d offered. Her comment about not being able to submit if he wasn’t there made it very clear that she expected him to take her submission from her.

He would, but only once she was able to hand it to him, fully committed to everything the gift entailed. She had been spoiled with Pischlar, receiving instant gratification for the barest act of surrender. There had been no true power exchange between them, and yet that was what she asked of—and what she
needed
from—Dominik.

To reach that point, they would need to go back to the basics. Negotiations had been done, trust was established, but neither of them really knew how deep her submissive nature ran.

After today, they’d have a much better idea.

In the hall on the way to the hotel room, he spotted an elderly cleaning lady with pure white hair in a bun under a hairnet, slight in her pristine uniform, but something in the way she moved and the bright sparkle in her brown eyes showed energy that belied her age. She stopped pushing the card and smiled at him.

“Good morning, sir.”

He glanced at her name tag. “Good morning, Ethel.”

Her gaze followed him as he stepped up to his door, pulling out his key card. “Very sweet girl you have, sir. Not at all like the others.”

“Others?” Dominik frowned, wondering if some of the guys had picked up chicks and left them in the rooms for housekeeping to deal with. He didn’t see any of the rookies pulling that kind of crap, but he wouldn’t tolerate any of his men making the hotel staff’s job more difficult.

“Oh, don’t you worry yourself, young man. I raised twelve children, I can handle a few rowdy boys and their women. But she was so polite and tipped me just for letting her have a few things to clean with.” The skin around her eyes and lips crinkled as she laughed. “I’ve never heard someone apologize so much for not letting me do my job, but it seemed so important to her, I didn’t have the heart to insist. Please let me know if either of you needs anything else.”

Dominik grinned, even more eager to see how Sahara was doing. He inclined his head. “I will. Thank you.”

He opened the door to the hotel room quietly and stepped inside. The fresh scent of lemon cleaner filled the room. The carpet looked like it had been vacuumed and everything in the sitting room shone.

After pulling the door shut, he moved into the bedroom. The bed was made and the suitcases were nowhere to be seen. Leaving the bags on the bed, he continued to the bathroom and met Sahara’s eyes in the mirror as she ran a soft bristle brush through her silky, golden blond hair.

She gave a little start and spun around to face him. “I was almost ready for you, Sir. I was going to kneel by the bed and wait and—”

“And you did everything I asked of you.” He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe, taking a moment to admire the way the red dress caressed her sweet curves. Her heels made her legs look incredibly long. The dip of her neckline showed a tantalizing amount of cleavage but left plenty to the imagination. She was so well put together it was hard to believe she’d spent most of the last hour cleaning, but she was so desperate to please him she’d probably scurried around from the second he stepped out, needing to follow his orders as perfectly as humanly possible.

“You did very well. I believe you’ve earned your reward.” He backed into the bedroom with a crook of his finger for her to join him. Then he pointed to the floor by his side. “Now you may kneel.”

She knelt gracefully, looking relieved. He had a feeling she considered kneeling a true act of submission and had been waiting for the chance to do it for him. A plus, considering he planned to have her in this position a lot today.

“Close your eyes. I will give you your first gift.” He waited until she pressed her eyes shut, then reached into the black bag for the thick, red velvet blindfold he’d bought for her. He stood, moving behind her to pull it over her face and tie the red ribbons over her hair. “I will take everything from you before the day is done, Sahara. Your sight, your ability to speak, then lastly, what you will be able to hear. I will control all you feel, what you taste, and every movement you make.”

Drawing in a sharp breath, she nodded.

“You will always have the ability to express your limits. I will respect them, but I will constantly be easing you toward them until I have a better understanding of each and every one. You will be observing high protocol until I release you from it. Do you understand?”

A tiny tremor shook her, but she gave another nod. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. Now, I have one last question.” He paused, the edge of his lip twitching when her brow furrowed. She was probably thinking very hard about what else he might expect from her. No need to keep her guessing. “Do you object to having another Dom involved in our scenes?”

He didn’t share, but he did have plans that would involve the assistance of another Master. Not something she’d expect from him, which meant she would be kept slightly off-balance.

Exactly where he wanted her.

* * * *

What’s the right answer?
Sahara tried to shake off the light-headedness that had come over her from the moment Dominik had left. She’d quickly ditched her irritation over having to clean and focused on how pleased he would be when he saw the room. Asking housekeeping for rags and spray cleaner and the vacuum had been a little embarrassing, but Ethel had been so nice about it Sahara had actually felt pretty damn good knowing she’d taken some of the burden off the old woman’s shoulders. Yes, cleaning the rooms was Ethel’s job. The rest of the players had given her plenty to do though, and she’d already looked worn out.

Sahara had also been rather proud of how well she’d done. She kept her own apartment pretty clean, but only by her own standards. Ten minutes rushing around, and she never had to be embarrassed having guests over.

Cleaning to impress Dominik meant so much more. She’d thought back on how well he cared for his things and knew Olivia had probably kept a very tidy house. He’d be uncomfortable in a messy room and Sahara wanted to show him she could easily meet his standards. Every surface she polished, every bit of clutter she straightened up, was a small gesture of her willingness to serve him.

And, strangely enough, she found she didn’t want him to thank her or act like she’d done anything special. He’d been right when he’d said he didn’t have to be there for her to submit to him. Simply knowing he’d be pleased was all she’d needed.

His question still hung between them, though. Was this a test? Did he need some assurance that she didn’t need another man in their relationship to be happy?

No. This was Dominik. He wouldn’t suggest another Dom being involved just to make sure she’d say no. She didn’t understand his motivations, but only one answer felt right.

“I won’t object to anything you choose to do to me, Sir.” She wet her bottom lip with her tongue, knowing she’d just left the door wide open for so many scenarios she wasn’t sure she was ready for. But she trusted him completely, so there was no need to deny him anything. “While you were gone, I realized how fulfilling everything I do for you can be. I need to continue with you close. I’m not sure if that makes sense.”

“It does. You’re embracing your submission beautifully, and I’m happy to be the focus of what you need to give. The housekeeper actually spoke to me, and I was very proud of you.” His voice sounded more resonant now that she was shrouded in darkness, almost like he was all around her, his deep tone sinking straight into her like tremors vibrating from the floor beneath her knees. His words settled over her, a blanket of soft, warm approval that she could curl up in like a contented little kitten.

He chuckled and touched her cheek. “I love that little smile. Your need to please goes beyond submission. It’s too soon to say if we can delve into a 24/7 lifestyle, but I think something close to that would suit you.”

Yes, please!
When she’d first gotten interested in BDSM, her only interest had been spicing up things in the bedroom. With Dominik, she couldn’t see those limits applying. She would still give her all to being an Ice Girl. To being a much better friend than she’d been in the past, but she needed him to be part of every aspect of her life. To sense him with her even when he wasn’t. Or couldn’t be.

Like he’d been this morning.

“Open your mouth, pet. You’ll need your strength.” He touched her bottom lip with his thumb, then pressed something cold into her mouth.

She bit down and the sour sweetness of the orange slice burst on her tongue. She chewed, swallowed, and then parted her lips for another. Once she’d finished the orange, he fed her some strawberries. Raspberries. And a kiwi.

Once she was done, he made her drink from a bottle of water. He used his thumb to dry her lips, then bent down to kiss her. “I enjoy having you eat from my hand. Unless we are in public, or have company, this is how you will eat from now on.”

Intense, but she loved the idea. They weren’t playing with the concept of a power exchange anymore. Instead of wading in the shallow end, he’d swum in deep with her hand in his, guiding her beyond the rough current until they were floating in the gentle waves together. She didn’t need to feel the earth beneath her feet to hold steady. All she needed was to know he’d never be too far to keep her from being pulled under.

There was silence for what seemed like a long time. She relaxed back on her heels, for once not feeling the least bit impatient. She’d never felt so content. So at peace.

“Give me your wrists. I’d like to see how these look with the dress.” Dominik wrapped a soft cuff around one of her wrists, then the other. He didn’t clip them together, but he moved them around her wrists gently as though testing the fit. “A deep red in tooled leather. They suit you.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She wanted to touch them, but how still was she supposed to be?

Dominik touched her cheek, letting out a soft laugh. “You’re overthinking again, pet. If it makes you feel better, ask for permission to move or speak, but remember what I told you about guessing.”

“Well, I’m guessing you wouldn’t take off the blindfold to let me see the cuffs.”

“That’s a good guess.”

“But may I touch them? And am I allowed to touch you?” She wasn’t sure their scenes today would be much fun if she wasn’t allowed to reach out to him. If she couldn’t see him, then she needed some other way to know if he smiled or frowned. Which seemed very important right now.

Latching on to her wrists, Dominik brought her hand up to his face and kissed her fingertips. “Unless you’re bound, or I’ve asked you to hold a position, you’re always allowed to touch me.”

He released her wrist and stayed close to her. She hesitated for a few seconds, then traced her fingers over his lips. She could picture his broad smile so clearly it was as though the blindfold had been ripped away. Without her vision though, his skin seemed smoother, hotter. His beard was prickly against her fingertips at first, but the thickness along his jaw was soft.