Re/Paired (Doms of the FBI Book 2) (16 page)

Scott had been Darcy’s Master for years. Investigating his murder had brought Darcy and Malcolm together.

Katrina blushed. Keith had tried to steer her in this direction. “What if I just said I wanted to learn his rules and his preferences, but I didn’t tell him any of mine because I’m not sure what they are?”

This was maybe a little more revealing than she had intended, but Darcy seemed so willing to talk. She turned and studied Katrina, who tried not to squirm under the scrutiny. “Do you trust him?”

More than she’d ever trusted a lover. “With my life.”

Darcy seemed to accept that. “Still talk about everything. After a scene, talk about what you liked and didn’t like. Tell him what worked for you and offer suggestions. It’s not topping from the bottom to ask for what you want. You just can’t necessarily expect to get it on your terms or your timetable.”

While she found a parking space, Katrina took some time to digest Darcy’s advice. She shot her brother’s fiancée a glance. “You won’t tell Malcolm we talked about this, will you? He’ll flip out.”

“I don’t think he’ll flip out. I just don’t think he wants to know the details of your sex life.” Darcy laughed. “Besides, you didn’t really tell me anything.”

On the way back, Darcy put her hand on Katrina’s arm. “Is your Dom upset because you were supposed to scene today and that fucking stalker ruined everything? Because that’s not your fault.”

Katrina shook her head. “It’s something else. One of those if-you-do-this-I’ll-paddle-your-ass things. And I went ahead and did it anyway. I don’t know that I’m okay with him trying to control my behavior outside the bedroom.”

“Then set that boundary.” Darcy squeezed her arm. “I know you said you agreed to go by his rules, but maybe you need to have a conversation about how your limits will evolve as your relationship grows. Nothing is static. With Malcolm, we both started off with some hard limits that have become flexible, and we’ve put other limits in place where there didn’t used to be a rule. It’s a relationship, Trina. Things change. Communication and flexibility are key.”

Beginning that dialogue wasn’t going to be easy. Katrina had thought she could approach this like a fling, whether or not she intended for it to last longer, and that she could put up with little things she didn’t like. Not having a plan for dealing with those things long-term was already proving to be a problem.

“One more thing.” They’d arrived back at the condo. Darcy undid her seat belt and turned to regard Katrina regretfully. “You did misbehave. If he told you not to do something, whether or not you agree with him, you’re the submissive. You willfully disobeyed, and you do have a punishment coming. Take it with grace and dignity. Don’t hide your emotions, even if you’re not comfortable showing them. He needs to see your tears, your guilt, your misery. Otherwise he won’t know if the punishment has been effective.”

Though she didn’t agree with Keith, she did feel guilty for defying him and flouting it in his face. He had given that order out of concern for her safety, and he’d offered alternatives to her plan. In retrospect, she realized he’d been very flexible. She was the one who hadn’t reacted responsibly or respectfully. For so long, she’d called the shots in all her relationships. Assuming a submissive role was going to be a tough transition. Now she understood a little better why Keith had originally refused to train her.

What if she wasn’t cut out for this lifestyle? She’d lose her chance to be with Keith. Over the course of dinner, as the four of them sat at her small dining room table and chatted while they ate, Katrina renewed her internal commitment to exploring her submissive side. It was there. She’d found the majority of their scene the night before intensely enjoyable, and part of that came from the fact that Keith was calling the shots. It had made her feel more
herself
.

After dinner, Darcy yawned and stretched. “Trina, I’m sorry. I missed my nap, and it looks like I’m in for an early bedtime. If you don’t feel comfortable staying here tonight, you’re more than welcome to stay with us. I have a very nice guest room.”

Malcolm seconded the invitation. Keith watched the exchange silently.

Katrina declined. “Thanks, but I’m not going to let this jerk scare me away from my life. I’ll be fine.”

Malcolm pursed his lips together, but one glance at Keith had him relaxing. Keith stood and took his plate to the sink. “I’ll stay with Kat tonight. Fucker comes near her, and he won’t know what hit him.”

Keith walked Malcolm and Darcy to the door. Kat had stayed upstairs to tidy the kitchen. He liked that she never left the dishes for the next day. A dirty sink bothered him first thing in the morning. It went against his need for order.
Kat
went against his need for order. He was going to need to adjust his expectations, because she wasn’t his usual submissive. He wasn’t sure she had it in her to be as submissive as he required, and that could seriously derail his plan to keep distance between them.

Last night and this morning, he’d caught glimpses of submissiveness. He’d tapped into it, but he didn’t know how to keep her there. He didn’t know if it was possible, only that he needed his submissive to behave.

Mal stopped just outside the door. Darcy paused a few feet away, her gaze demurely averted to give them some privacy. He liked Darcy. He thought she was good for Mal. But that didn’t mean he knew what role she could play in his life. In the past, Mal’s girlfriends had been inconsequential to Keith. He’d known those relationships wouldn’t last. Darcy, he knew, was permanent. She was The One. He was going to have to figure out how to integrate her into his tiny inner circle.

Malcolm stifled a yawn. “Thanks for staying with her. Call me tomorrow before you leave. Trina will blow her top if we’re all hovering around, but we can’t leave her alone for long. We have to catch this bastard, and soon.”

Keith shook his head. “I’m not leaving her alone. I’ll call to check in with you tomorrow, but I can guarantee she won’t be alone for a second.” Whether she liked it or not.

They hugged, a macho, manly display of affection that involved pounding each other on the back. Without waiting for permission, Darcy rose to her toes and kissed Keith’s prickly cheek, and then the couple left. There went another woman who didn’t find him intimidating.

Keith ascended the stairs slowly, not sure what he’d find at the top. Kat had already been upset with him before this whole mess. As the stress of the day wore on them both, she’d become increasingly obstinate.

Silence greeted him. A quick sweep of the place nearly stopped his heart. She knelt on the floor in the middle of the living room, naked, with her hands linked behind her neck in the pose he’d required the night before.

He approached, but she never lifted her gaze. Last night she hadn’t been nearly this disciplined. Her eyes had darted anywhere she detected movement. That was a natural reaction. Good submissives had a tight rein on those impulses. They were controlled when they needed to be, and they ceded control when their Dominant required it.

Right now, he was both relieved and proud of her. He stopped at her side and ran his hand over her hair. He’d never grow tired of touching her silky dark tresses. Her eyelids fell to half-mast, and she swayed slightly, but she corrected her position without being told.

“Permission to speak, Master?”

He wanted to laugh at her military tone, but he schooled his features. Normally he would begin the conversation. Not answering immediately allowed his unspoken point to penetrate. While she could ask questions, she needed to learn to wait until he gave her permission to speak. She held her position, not fidgeting, though he knew she was growing anxious.

After almost a full minute, he relented. “Slave, I know you have something to say. Given everything that’s happened today and the expression on your face, I’d have to be an idiot to miss that. In the future, you must wait for me to verbally acknowledge you first. Only then can you ask to speak.”

Her eyes flicked up quickly before she remembered to keep her gaze on the floor. She opened her mouth to apologize but closed it without speaking. He read the contrition in every line of her body, and the shell around his heart cracked a little more.

He gave her time to put this information together, and then he grazed his fingertips along her cheek, urging her to look up at him. “What’s on your mind, Kitty Kat?”

A brilliant smile curved her lips and lit her eyes. The smile vanished, a concession to the serious nature of what she had to say, but the light in her eyes didn’t dim. “I’m sorry, Master. I’ll try to do better next time.”

He nodded, a gesture of his benevolence and a signal of his forgiveness for her slight transgression.

“Earlier today, I disobeyed you. More than that, I thought only about myself, and I failed to take into account your concerns for my safety. I didn’t like the dictatorial way you told me I couldn’t leave the condo. I should have told you that, but instead I got mad and openly defied you. Even after you explained yourself and offered alternatives, I refused to listen. I’m sorry for all of that, not just because you’re my Master, but because you’re my friend. I dismissed your concerns and I disrespected you. I accept my punishment.”

In all the years he’d known Kat, she never failed to impress him.

“I accept your apology.” He spoke softly, but he had no intention of forgoing her punishment. In the past, he’d made his submissives apologize because he didn’t care enough to take the time and energy to physically punish them, and he liked to practice humiliation. He didn’t need a psychiatrist to know why it appealed to him.

For the first time in his life, he felt the need to physically punish his slave, and it had nothing to do with humiliation. This had become about Kat and earning her respect, not about him. The desire to do right by her burned deep, a foreign feeling that unsettled him more than a little. She made him believe he could expect more from a woman than a warm body and a place to park his dick. He would never find lasting happiness with anyone, but she offered the only respite he knew he’d ever find.

She inhaled, a sign of relief, and her shoulders relaxed. “Thank you, Master.”

He sank down in the center of the sofa. “Lie down across my lap.”

She crawled the short distance to him and draped herself elegantly over his lap. Voluntarily getting into position was a wonderful act of submission, and it really turned him on. Kat had a great ass, and he was definitely an ass man. While she would find little about this experience to like, he hoped to introduce her to an erotic spanking soon.

Submission aside, he needed to deal with the mechanics of the situation. “Scoot up a little bit, Kitty Kat. Arms above you.” Reaching up forced a slight curve to her lower back, which fully exposed her vulva. “Turn your face to the back of the couch. Good. Now spread your legs a little wider.”

She responded to his instructions beautifully. Now that she was in the perfect position, he spent some time caressing her ass. Not only did he enjoy spending the time touching her, but it increased anticipation.

The scent of her arousal reached his nose. “Are you turned on, Kitty Kat?”

She cleared her throat twice. “Yes, Master.”

“Tell me what turns you on about this situation.” He kept his tone gentle. It was an honest query, not an attempt to find something about which to deliver a reprimand.

“I like… I like when you touch me. I like being completely in your hands, knowing that nothing that happens tonight is up to me.” Her voice came out soft, with a hint of breathlessness.

In that, she was wrong. Everything that happened was up to her. She could stop it with a single word. “Remind us of your colors.”

“Red, yellow, green.”

“Excellent. I’m not going to lie to you. This is going to hurt.” With that, he cupped his hand and delivered a firm swat to her left cheek.

She sucked in a breath and held it.

“Breathe, Kitty Kat. You’re going to count for me. That was one.” Forcing her to count would force her to breathe. He hadn’t made her count before because he hadn’t hit her very hard. The spanking he’d delivered that morning had been a punishment, yes, but it had mostly been for his pleasure, not because she’d climaxed in the shower without permission.

“One.” She barely croaked the word, but the air in her lungs whooshed out. “That really hurt, Master.”

He chuckled at the wryness of her tone. “The proper response is ‘One. Thank you, Master.’” He smoothed his palm over the red handprint blooming on her ass.

She inhaled again. “One. Thank you, Master.”

In a perfect world, he would tell her how many she could expect. But this wasn’t a perfect world, and he didn’t know what she could take. Three might break her. Fifteen might elicit nothing more than a grunt or two.

He smacked again, this time aiming for her right cheek. She flinched, but the movement was concentrated mostly in her shoulders.

“Two. Thank you, Master.” The tone of her voice had changed, softened a bit. She’d resigned herself to this punishment.

He delivered two more in quick succession, centering them on the same places he’d hit before. She counted them out, her voice steady and accepting. Three more introduced the first tenuous note to her tone. He watched her face and the lines of her body to see how much more she could take. It wouldn’t be long now.