ONE week later, Caera decided her body would spontaneously combust if no one touched her. She’d kept her word and started over at Crack the Whip; to her great shock, she’d actually come to enjoy the work, the complexity of it, and looked forward to spending her working hours with two of the nicest people Mac could have stuck her with.
Petra and Skye were older than Caera by a good six years. They reminded her a lot of her relationship with Jennifer, without the age gap. Barely three months between them, they’d gone through school together and attended the same courses at college.
When Petra’s scholarship had fallen through and she hadn’t been able to raise the money to finish, Skye had convinced her parents to pay for the rest of the tuition. They’d put that investment to excellent use, building a company and keeping it running for the past three years.
Caera found it hilarious that the girls designed, produced, and marketed their own line of erotic lingerie. Lingerotica. She’d seen some of their work, fancy concoctions of frilly lace and latex masterpieces. They experimented with fabrics and colors and cuts.
As a way to blow off steam—and get a staff pass for Fothergill House—the pair tended bar at the Whip several times a week, working in tandem as a practiced duo, almost turning it into an act for the customers.
Mac had called them in for Caera’s first week; she must remember to thank him for it.
In the meantime, Saul had not only kept his word and enforced his week-long celibacy rule—she wore a pretty red leather chastity belt complete with the torturous butt plug—but he also had banned her from stepping foot on the playroom floors.
Caera was convinced he was a closet sadist.
To make things even worse, he’d made a pillow divider in the middle of their bed. A divider of all things! He’d offered her an explanation of how he didn’t want to tempt her, blah, blah, but he refused to leave her alone while she slept. As much as the sentiment pulled her heart strings, her sexual frustration had lashed out, resulting in a barrage of profanity and her black, low-heeled pump being launched violently at his head.
She’d missed, of course. Anger gave her disastrous aim.
“Jackass,” she muttered, swiping a cloth over a martini spillage on the bar top. “Who does he think he is?”
Someone cleared their throat from the other side of the bar as Caera turned to rinse the cloth out. “Excuse me?”
“One second,” she called out, completing the little job and drying her hands. She faced the bar again and came face to face with a young Asian man in a business suit. Nothing unusual there, she thought, unless you counted the all-consuming dread filling the pit of her stomach. “What can I get for you?”
“You are Ms. Hillcock? Ms. Caera Hillcock?”
“Yes,” she said slowly. “That’s me. I’m afraid I don’t know you.”
“You wouldn’t,” the dark-haired man replied in a way that set her nerve ends into meltdown. “My employer would like to speak to you, Ms. Hillcock. If you’ll come with me?”
“No. No, I’m afraid I won’t.”
His head tilted as if comprehending the word no. “My employer does not take kindly to being kept waiting. He is not in the best of moods as it is; are you sure you wish to anger him further?”
She backed up against the rows of bottles and stared into his weird eyes. They were flat, lifeless against the pallor of his skin. He might only have been in his twenties, but his flesh wore the scars of a warrior from centuries ago. “Look, I don’t know who your employer is, but I’m not interested. Now you either order a drink or I’m going to call security in to escort you, and your employer, out the door.”
Something resembling a smile flashed over his face. It brought to mind the wide maw of a shark, with all its rows of sharp teeth, bearing down on its prey. Sentinel of death. Messenger of doom.
He gave her a half bow and stepped back. “This shall not be the last time we meet, Ms. Hillcock. My card, should you wish to arrange a meeting with my employer before he comes looking for you.” A white rectangle slid onto the gleaming oak, and then the freaky little man was dancing in and out of the shadows.
Hand shaking, she reached out and picked up the card.
Daiki Hagiwara
Chief of Acquisitions
Okazaki Industries
She studied the phone number, recognized it as an American cell number. Whomever this Daiki Hagiwara was, he was based in the States. And that meant the nightmare her mother had started hadn’t ended. It had come back with a vengeance.
Madeline hadn’t told Caera the name of the Japanese business to whom she’d sold her daughter. It hadn’t come up between the exchange of blows and the vicious fight that happened when Dee stood up for Caera against Madeline.
She had a terrible feeling that name would be Okazaki.
Petra and Skye, as alike as twins, bounced behind the bar with boxes in their arms. The glass bottles inside clanked together when the girls dropped their cargo on the shelf beneath the mirror running along the back wall.
“Someone been giving you shit, sweetie?” Petra flicked a lock of spiraling brown hair, as glossy as the coat of a racehorse, away from her face and scanned the room with eyes the same color.
An inch taller than Petra, Skye set her hands on her hips and glared at a rambunctious stag party. “Was it that bunch of jerks over there? I swear to God, they get worse the older they get. Want me to go have a word with them?”
How did they know? Caera shook her head and slipped the card into the pocket of her slacks. She swore she could feel it burning through the material, branding the writing on it into her thigh. “What? No, no. They haven’t been any trouble, I promise. They’ve been quite polite, considering.” Considering the subtle once-overs and flirtatious wolf whistles.
“So what has you looking like death?” Skye demanded.
“You were fine when we left for the stockroom,” Petra added suspiciously.
“Nothing. Nothing,” she repeated firmly when the twins narrowed their eyes at her. Jesus, they were spooky when they acted like one person. “I just thought I saw someone I knew, that’s all. Between the shadows and the light…wrong person, though, so all’s good.”
“Smells like bullshit, P,” Skye said.
“I second that,” Petra agreed.
Her saving grace arrived in the form of a few members of the stag party wobbling over to the bar and ordering enough alcohol to put them all over the legal driving limit for a week.
They got to work, and for the first time, came together as a team. Glasses whipped down the oak top, back along as each tender added whatever was needed from their station. Vodka, gin, Scotch, Sambuca…the concoctions of alcohol still amazed Caera.
Within seven minutes, the full order of forty-three drinks was served, they had a happy stag party, and Caera rode on the high of a job well done. She’d been part of a team, and that gave her a warm rush.
“Nice job, rookie.” Skye grinned, obviously riding the same high, and offered her hand for a high-five.
Awkwardly, Caera slapped her hand against Skye’s and then Petra’s.
For the moment, Hagiwara and Okazaki were tucked away to the back of her mind as she got back to her job. She smiled to herself and cleared the bar of empties, served the odd client who popped up while the twins returned to the stockroom.
Unaware of the eyes watching her from a shadowed booth.
* * * *
“Have you told Caera where we’re all headed tonight?”
Saul peered at his computer, scanning the stock sheet on the screen, making an incredibly long list of what he needed to reorder and how much. “Unless the girls have broken code, it’s still one big secret.”
Mac’s laugh echoed through the loudspeaker. “Dee’s a triple-code fireproof safe, you know that. Tess, well, she likes to talk and she loves Caera. I think I’ve given her enough incentive to keep quiet this time.”
“If she talks, I’ll give her the spanking of a lifetime,” Saul muttered distractedly. How the fuck could they go through thirty-six bottles of one of their top shelf vodkas in under a week? That shit was prime, running two thousand dollars a bottle. Swarovski Studded Alize wasn’t something they sold every day, and the order that should have lasted them at least six months had come in the week before.
Time to search through the CCTV, Saul thought with a snarl. Fucking thieves. Time to overhaul the staff records as well, too many abnormalities slipping through the cracks—Annabelle and her obsessive, borderline psychotic tendencies, and now a thief with a taste, ha ha, for top-of-the-line vodka.
“She’d love you for it,” Mac argued. “If she needs punishing, I have just the way in mind. Something I’ve been thinking about trying for a while but she hasn’t done anything bad enough to deserve it yet.”
“Oh, do tell.”
“It so happens I was reading an article on a certain Dom’s blog about figging,” Mac said casually. Dirty humor stained his voice. “Very interesting piece, I have to admit. Figging has never been a method of discipline I’ve thought about, but this Dom put together a highly informative list of pros and cons.”
Saul sighed heavily. “You know I like to be thorough in my research, Mac. No point steering the uninformed masses in the wrong direction. The whole point of the blog is to inform and to guide.”
“And to give us brilliant ideas on how to keep our subs on their toes.”
He laughed. “A strong pair of eyelet hooks in the ceiling, a good set of wrist cuffs and chains will do the same thing. I saw the set up in your old office, Mac.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t make them squirm the way a plug of ginger up the ass does. Anyway, I’m holding that in reserve for when she’s been deliciously naughty.” Mac paused for a beat. “Or when I’m feeling on the sadistic side, maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”
“You’re a tyrant,” Saul replied dryly. “Tess quivers in fear when she sees you coming.”
“There’s definitely quivering and most certainly coming.”
“Horny bastard.”
“Always. Don’t tell me you’re not the same when it comes to your little one.” Mac cleared his throat. “Have you thought about whether you’ll ask her to go the whole way tonight?”
“Hmmm. I want to see what her reaction is first. If there’s excitement there, arousal, eagerness, then yes, I’ll pull the Dom card. If not, we just watch and learn.” Saul flicked down to the next page on his computer. “Tess’ first time too, right?”
“Yes, and so far, she’s exhibited all those positives you’ve named. That could change once we get there. The scars still bother her in public; any public scenes in the House we do, she always requests she be covered. Can’t blame her, but I want her to find pride in her scars, not fear judgement.”
“They’re a reminder of a horrible time for her. She doesn’t see her strength or resilience in them because all she remembers is how she got them. She survived hell. Maybe tonight will shift her into purgatory instead.”
“Perhaps.” It was Mac’s turn to sigh. “Right, the limo is booked for nine. The event doesn’t begin until ten, so we should have plenty of time to socialize and check out the scene.”
“Dee’s coming?”
“Not sure. She dislikes going to things like this by herself.”
“Find her company for the evening.”
Mac’s laugh was dark and dangerous. “Lad, if you want to try to set her up on a blind date, you’re more than welcome to. She’d send you home with your balls wrapped around your neck like a bow tie.”
His testicles shriveled slightly at the warning. “Yeah, won’t be doing that anytime soon. What’s the dress code?”
“Sexiest lingerie you can find, topped by as many layers of clothing as she can wear. It’s a competition after all. And don’t forget your collar; this is the night all the single studs wait for, stalking hapless, collarless young subs and dragging them off to the private rooms on the second floor.”
“We haven’t discussed collaring yet.”
There was shocked silence for thirty seconds. “Are you insane?”
“Not yet,” Saul muttered as the words and figures on the screen began to blur. “We’re in a good place right now. I think Caera will be open to the concept, but I don’t want to push it.”
“For fuck’s sake, Saul. For tonight at least, promise me you’ll collar her. House rules are if someone claims an uncollared sub tonight, the sub has to go with the Dom, be it hers or not. Not my rules,” Mac reminded him. “We’re playing in the competition’s territory tonight.”
“I know, I know. Best behavior, no lamping any fellow Dominants or bringing shame down on the House of Fothergill. Not my first party, Mac.”
“Your first with your own submissive. A submissive you intend to keep. Perspectives change, lad, when your heart’s as sunk as your cock.”
“Clever,” Saul noted wryly and tried not to grimace. It had been seven days too long since his cock had been sunk in anything resembling Caera. He’d even foregone jacking off to keep things equal, and his dick was more than ready to perform. “But not helping.”
“Heard you were joining your love in her period of celibacy. Might want to rectify that before tonight,” Mac advised. “Or take a change of trousers. Just make sure you’re both ready by nine.”
“Got it,” Saul grumbled and cut the call on his boss’ laughter.
He checked the time, noted he had a couple hours before he had to set his mind onto tonight’s festivities, and stuck his hands into the dirty work of finding a thief.
* * * *
By seven thirty, Caera was showered and wandering around the bedroom in only the chastity belt, wondering what she was supposed to dress in. She eyed the pile of clothes on the bed and picked up a top that was obscenely transparent. Everything from the shape of her breasts to the color and size of her areolas would be visible.
Nerves tingled in her belly. No matter how hard she’d tried to wheedle information out of Tess and Deanna, the two women stayed shtum. They hadn’t divulged even a single detail of what was happening tonight, and the secrecy was driving her insane.
As was the freaking chastity belt. Every night, Saul took it off before her shower and then stood guard and watched as she cleaned herself thoroughly. He gave her no chance to take any pleasure from touching herself, and as soon as she was out and dried, he replaced the belt after he’d sanitized it himself.
But tonight…she scowled as she tugged at the restriction. Tonight, he’d told her to shower with it on. Told her he’d take it off when he got in. This past week had been a study in frustration and sexual hunger.
At seven forty-three, he strolled in, looking deliciously edible in a pair of black dress pants, a white long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled past his elbows to reveal his strong forearms, and the row of buttons down the front undone, exposing the slight indent that ran between his pecs and down through his abs.
His feet were bare and his skin carried the faded tan that covered the rest of him. A black bow tie hung around his neck, yet to be tied. And in his hand, he held a long black box.
Caera didn’t hesitate. She’d been aroused for a week, her ass stimulated constantly by the butt plug with no means to relieve the ache. Seeing him like this, her Dominant in black tie, pushed her over the edge. Now she was ready to beg. She would prostrate herself in front of him if needs be, her pride no match for the desperation she felt.
She presented herself in front of him, exactly how he liked. She knew she’d done it right when he cupped the side of her head. “Master.”
His fingers tightened against her scalp. “Do you know what you’re saying, Caera, when you call me that?”
It was the next step. She’d spoken in confidence to Deanna about it, and she knew the consequences of the word. What it meant to her, and what it would mean to Saul. She was prepared for those consequences and replied instantly. “Yes, Master.”
“Tell me,” he crooned, pride in every syllable.
“It means you are my all. You are my Dominant, you are my heart and soul. You are my life. Calling you Master acknowledges the fact that I will not answer to anyone but you unless you order me to. You own me. You guide me. You define me.”
“Look at me.”
She raised her head enough to meet his eyes. The love and desire in them made her damp within a second.
“Baby, you render me speechless. For a submissive to submit so perfectly to her Dom…you’re perfect.” Something flickered in his eyes. “I can’t take this gift from you yet. It’s nothing you’ve done, Caera. I would never lie to you about something as important as this.”
The crack started in the top of her heart, worming down through muscle and vein. Wedging the two broken halves apart bit by agonizing bit. “Then why?”
He crouched in front of her, kissed away the solitary tear sliding down her cheek. “Because I haven’t fully earned the right to call myself your Master, Caera. Do you understand? When I have, when I can stand in the community without a shred of doubt and call myself your Master, I will proudly accept this gift if you still want to offer it.”
The crack stopped its progress as she took a moment to digest the information. She nodded thoughtfully. “I can’t take back what’s already been given, Sir.”
Relief blossomed over his face, replacing the worry. He kissed her then, as thoroughly and authoritatively as he’d ever been. “You’re too fucking good for me, Caera, you know that? I must have done something epic in a previous life to deserve you now.”
She smiled, eyes fluttering half shut as his taste invaded her. “Maybe you’re just a good man, Saul.”
The grin that controlled his lush mouth was anything but good. Wicked, dirty, wolfish, predatory…pick one or just roll them all into one, Caera thought. “I’m anything but a good man, baby. You should know that by now.” He straightened and offered his hand out, pulling her to her feet when she accepted. “We’re visiting another club tonight, and other Doms are likely to ogle you. Covet you. Lust after what’s mine. So we’re going to give them something to remind them who you belong to.”
Excitement weakened her knees. The chastity belt suddenly felt tight and too constricting, as though her body was about to burst free like a butterfly from a chrysalis.
Saul held the box in both hands, flicked open the lid with a flourish. Her eyes rounded as she took a step back from the opulent surprise laid quietly on blue velvet. “Do you like it?”
Her mouth worked but nothing came out. Blinded by the sparkle of beauty, her hand came to rest around her throat where the gold choker would sit. She knew nothing of jewelry, but somehow, he’d found gold to almost match the color of her hair. The choker was plaited with Celtic knots, leading to a Trinity knot in the center. Delicate, intricate work she immediately loved.
From the middle of the Trinity knot, an emerald shone. The size of her thumbnail and polished to a gleam. The same green as her eyes, she realized as tears fell. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life.”
“Happy tears, thank Christ.” Saul blew out a breath and laughed quietly. “Does that mean you’ll wear it for me? As a gift from a man ridiculously infatuated with his woman, and as a symbol of a Dominant obsessed with his submissive?”
Her lips twitched. “This is a twofer?”
He took the choker from the box, which he then tossed over his shoulder with a clatter. The gold work looked fantastically fragile in his big hands, as though the strands holding it together would snap if he moved wrong. “Definitely a twofer. Just like me with you. I’m one man, Caera, but you possess both parts of me.”
A nervous laugh escaped her. “I want to say yes but I’m petrified I’m going to end up breaking it.”
He unclasped it gently, draped it around her throat, and fastened it with a tiny click. He took a step back, admiration clear as day in his eyes. “Fucking perfect. It’s stronger than it looks, baby.”
Warmth circled her neck where it lay. Hesitantly, she allowed her fingertips to trace each knot, every tiny detail. “Thank you, Sir.”
“My pleasure, Caera, absolutely. My only wish is that you wear this collar every time we play in public, here or away from home. I have another one for everyday play.” His hands slipped down to the chastity belt, released it. “Hands and knees, baby. This one’s going to be quick and rough as fuck.”
She dropped her hand from the masterpiece of a collar. Her collar, she thought, almost giddy with pride. She wore the collar of her Dominant and she would wear it boldly. Saul might take responsibility for her and her safety, but she was determined he wouldn’t ever regret putting his collar on her.
The moment she stepped toward the bed, the belt crashed to the floor. Air touched her damp pussy, caressed the openness between her cheeks. She’d seen the size of the plug he’d used, knew it was no bigger than his little finger in both width and length, yet her ass was adamant it was stretched wide.
Crawling on the bed, avoiding the small mountain of clothes, she sashayed her hips, taunted him with what he wanted most. The sound of his fly ripping open made her shiver in delight. Moisture trickled slowly down the inside of her thigh.
His heat enveloped her first, touching her buttocks and the backs of her thighs. Then came the brush of his shirt over her back, followed by his weight. He covered her, his cock lined along her crack, his chest pressed against her back. His hands gripped hers on the spread.
“Nobody else touches you tonight,” he growled, rocking his hips. “The collar around your neck would usually suffice, but I’m in no mood to take the chance.” His cock slipped, notched into her pussy, and he moaned. “So fucking wet, baby. Always wet and ready for me.”
Her breath caught when he thrust, speared into her with an audible squelch that shocked her. He drove deep, parting her flesh until there was nowhere untouched by him. “Always you. Only you.”
“Mine,” he snapped, capturing her lobe between his teeth and nipping. He withdrew completely, leaving her shaking and empty.
On instinct, Caera dropped her hips a fraction so the crown of his cock dragged between her buttocks. She flinched when he tapped the sensitive orifice, screamed as he surged forward with deadly precision. The crown breached her, starting the lovely burn she’d missed so much. Her hands fisted under his when he hammered into her, every glorious inch of his thick shaft filling the satin glove of her ass.
“God, Saul.” The voice she heard wasn’t hers at all. This voice belonged to a woman under a spell, deep and seductive, carnal and powerful. “Fuck me. Mark me, Sir. Let them all know I’m untouchable to anyone but you.”
The sound he made was that of an alpha male staking his territory. He pounded into her so hard, her arms couldn’t hold her weight any longer. She dropped face first into the bedspread with a thrilled groan, taking everything he gave her and demanding more. “You have to come, Caera. Can’t…can’t hold back.”
Her pelvis canted, altered the angle at which he entered her. She grunted with every thrust, the breath knocked out of her. Stars circled her vision as he struck a place inside her over and over again.
The orgasm ripped through her, brutal and spontaneous. No time to prepare, to ride the wave, just an onslaught of extreme pleasure intertwined with pain. A second scream, one that scorched her throat and died down to whimpers.
Saul’s cock rammed home, pulsing in the confines of her tightness, and his exclamation of climax sounded more like the dominant roar of a beast. Liquid heat filled her, tipped her into another, smaller but no less potent release.
Saul shifted, rested his head between her shoulder blades. Sweat sheened their skin, their breaths came hard and fast and in tandem. Caera could feel his heart bouncing against her back.
“Jesus, we’ll end up killing ourselves this way,” he mumbled, kissing her spine. “Did I hurt you?”
“Hmm?” Caera didn’t know if there was pain; she drifted happily on the peaceful cloud of endorphins.
“Did I hurt you?” Saul repeated, slower this time.
“Don’t think so?” She blinked and thought how soft the bed beneath her face was. If she just closed her eyes, she could float away for a while, bask in the wonderful sensation of being fucked boneless. “You did give me fair warning.”
His chuckle vibrated through her. “I did indeed.”
“I’m just gonna…” The rest of the sentence trailed off. She stiffened, winced against the tug of discomfort as he pulled away from her. Her pussy clenched, envying the slow trickle of semen that followed his withdrawal.
Saul’s fingers gently probed her, and even though she knew he was just assessing the aftermath of their violent joining, she decided if he wanted to go again, she wouldn’t protest. “I never get over how sexy it is, seeing my cum inside you.”
“Almost as sexy as how it gets in there,” she replied absently and then covered her traitorous mouth with her hand. She forgot her brain-to-mouth filter disintegrated for a while after sex with Saul.
Saul laughed and kissed her ass, touching his lips to either cheek. “As much as I’d love to sit here and watch before doing it all over again, we have an appointment to keep. Mac will spank us both if we’re late.”
With a disgruntled groan, she rolled onto her back. “I think I’d pay to see that.” She opened her sleepy eyes to find Saul staring at her, paused in the motion of tucking his cock back inside his pants. “What?”
“That turns you on? The idea of Mac spanking me?”
Curiosity filled her with mischief. “Maybe.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe not, baby. Nothing on earth would possess me.” He finished returning his pride and joy to its safe place and started on his shirt. “Not even for you.”
“Aw, chicken.” She said it lightly, teasingly.
“Get up and get dressed, sweetheart.” Saul tapped his watch.
“Or else what?” she asked sweetly. She was aware she was on the road to trouble. Her boundaries were down and she wanted to play.
He stalked toward her, braced his hands on either side of her limp body, and leaned down to reward her with a quick, sharp bite to each nipple. “Deanna still has me over a barrel with you, Caera. Playing with you is something she desperately wants, and I had to promise her a night with you, remember?”
Caera nodded slowly.
“Behave or that night will come a lot sooner than I had planned. Keep teasing me,” he added and licked a trail from her sternum to the choker around her neck, “and I’ll give her the freedom to do what she wants to you, no limits, no protest from me. Just Deanna and you, with you completely at her mercy.”
Her mouth curved. She tried hard to stop the grin from spreading but couldn’t. Even when his mouth took hers viciously, teeth sinking into her bottom lip and then into her tongue, the thrill remained. The brief stab of pain was nothing, only whetted her appetite. “Promise?”
“Minx.” Saul hissed the word between clenched teeth and then stood straight and attempted to subtly adjust his cock in his pants. “Just for that, I’ll schedule your playdate with Dee for this week.”
When he turned and walked to the closet, Caera realized what had just happened. The haze of sex disappeared and left her with a sense of foreboding. A playdate with Dee…“Oh shit.”