“Me?”
Z rose. “She’s in the dungeon waiting for you, Jacob. This might be a good time to get some answers.”
As Z walked away, Jake stood…and sat back down.
She had to serve him. To trust him—although she obviously didn’t or he’d know her background. She’d been reluctant to tell Bart about living with a drug dealer. Jennifer had mentioned the streets. Foster care. Running away.
Most people were happy to confide their pasts, ugly or not. If Rainie was so reticent, was she…ashamed? He needed to know.
And goals. The assholes the other night had really bothered her. And she wanted to be more.
Jake stared at the wall. Z’s bet gave him one night—and there would be a lot to accomplish in only a few hours.
Planning came first.
And then he’d get some answers.
* * * *
Her knees hurt. Head down, Rainie shifted her weight from side to side. Behind her, someone used a paddle on their submissive, and the slapping of flesh was loud in the rock-walled dungeon room.
How long had she been in here, anyway? Had Master Z forgotten her?
No, he never forgot anything…except maybe a grocery-list item. Jessica’s report that the Master could be occasionally absent-minded had been a surprise.
Because he was never inattentive in the Shadowlands.
Maybe Jake didn’t want to see Rainie. At the dismal thought, she blinked back tears. Determinedly she turned her attention to the sounds around her—the moaning from the other side of the dungeon, the clip of a Domme’s heels. A sigh. A laugh.
Boots appeared in her field of vision. Black, scuffed at the toes. Black jeans.
Her heart lifted and actually bounced like a beach ball as her gaze rose. A heavy leather belt around trim hips. Broad shoulders under a black collared shirt—one of the slim-fit kind that showed off hard pectoral muscles and his narrow waist. Jake. My Jake.
Only he isn’t. Why did she have to keep reminding herself of the fact? Why did each repetition hurt more?
His top shirt buttons were open to show the tanned skin of his chest. His shadowed jaw was tight; he looked angry. Did he even want to be here?
She dropped her eyes before meeting his gaze. Unhappiness was a solid lump under her sternum. Don’t cry. She dug her fingers into her thighs so the pain would drive her tears back.
The bare skin dented under her nails. Bare legs, bare ass, bare everything. When Master Z had led her into the dungeon, he’d pointed to the corner and ordered, “Strip completely, kneel, and wait for Master Jake’s directions.”
And now Master Jake was here.
“So, you’re to serve me tonight with total trust and total submission,” Jake said. She got nothing from his voice—not sarcasm, not surprise, not enthusiasm.
He didn’t sound like her Jake at all…because she’d hurt him more than she’d realized. More than she’d thought possible. The last thing she’d ever wanted to do was cause him harm. She bit her lip, wanting to beg him to understand that she wasn’t the right person for him.
But he’d sent the perfect Nadia away. And come back and touched Rainie.
She swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good enough.” He offered his hand to help her rise. “I’m in the mood to work you over hard, so this is fine timing.”
A quiver of anxiety and longing lodged low in her belly. How pitiful that she’d let him do…anything…just to have him touch her.
She followed him to the back corner. The wax play area was set up with a disposable covering on the bondage table. The heavy stone table next to it held a lit candle.
Wax could feel wonderful—or hurt like hell if the Dom was in a sadistic mood. How angry was Jake? But he’d never take out his anger on a submissive. He’d call off a scene first…wouldn’t he?
“Rainie.”
She dragged her gaze from the flame to look up into intent eyes. “Yes, Sir?”
“Total trust?”
She winced and let go of her doubts. “I’m sorry, Sir. I do trust you.”
“You trust me with your body.” He helped her onto the table and positioned her on her back with firm, impersonal hands. “But not with your emotions. Or your past. Or your future.” His baritone had chilled to be as emotionless as his expression.
I don’t like him this way.
Yet his quiet accusation hit the bull’s-eye. The realization she’d deliberately hidden herself from him—from her Dom—was a blow severe enough to make her tremble.
With deliberate movements, he pushed a wedge under her ass to tilt her hips up and wrapped cuffs around each thigh before clipping them to the side table hooks. As he tightened the straps, her knees were forced up and out to the sides—giving him an open pussy playground, especially after he positioned her butt on the table’s edge.
Another band across her low abdomen ensured she couldn’t wiggle away from whatever he had planned.
When he applied a forehead strap, she barely kept from whining. Not being able to move her head made everything seem far too restrictive. More straps went over her arms, crossing both above and below her breasts.
He walked around the table, tightening or loosening the fastenings to an even snugness. “Your safeword is red. For cramping, numbness, tingling, or discomfort you can’t handle, use yellow. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.” Her heart grieved for the affection missing from his voice.
“Excellent.” He stood close, filling her vision and blocking out the room. “You’re a beautiful, intelligent, loving woman, Rainie. Why do you think you’re not good enough for me?”
The question dropped out of nowhere, a tornado ripping up her internal landscape and stealing her breath.
She had no answer for him.
He gave her time to respond and then shook his head, letting his disappointment in her silence show.
Tears prickled her eyes.
“If you don’t want to talk to me, I might as well use this.” After placing a squeaky toy in her fist, he gagged her with a black silicone pacifier. It wasn’t as gag inducing as the huge penis ones, but the soft roundness filled her mouth completely.
Inhaling through her nose, she could smell Master Jake’s evergreen-forest cologne. It was like a hint of freshness in the rock and leather scent of the dungeon.
“Bite down on the gag, if you need to,” he said calmly. “Use the squeaky toy to safeword—or when you’re ready to speak.”
When. Not if.
His palm was warm against her cheek as he bent. “You’re going to talk to me, sweetling. The only question is how much you’ll subject yourself to before that point.”
At the terrifying determination in his voice, she involuntarily pulled at her straps, but she was completely restrained.
He leaned his forearm on the table, his face inches from hers. The stern set of his jaw reminded her of the steely core beneath his usual charm. “I don’t know what’s happening in that head of yours, Rainie. But before this evening is over, we’re going to explore it, even if we journey back to your birth.”
She bit down on the gag. No way would she talk about her horrendous childhood.
“Total trust. Total submission. You’re one of the most honest people I know, Rainie. You wouldn’t renege on the bet.”
Her mind went blank as she realized the depth of Master Z’s trap.
When he paused, giving her a chance to respond, she told her fingers to squeak the toy, to talk to him. And everything in her stayed immobile.
He waited another second before brushing his lips against hers. “Don’t worry, Rainie. You’re going to tell me everything.” His face was expressionless as he put a pair of sunglasses on her.
The room turned dark. Even worse, the lenses curved like magnifying glasses, distorting the surroundings like funhouse mirrors, enlarging objects and people.
“I’m going to fuck you eventually,” he said softly, “but first I’ll ensure the sensation is increased for both of us.”
What did he mean? Was he planning to do chemical play?
He positioned a rubbery-feeling circle above her clit, extending almost to her anus. He held it in place with one hand. With his other hand…
The circle dug into her skin even as something seemed to pull on her clit and labia. There was another surge. The drawing sensation increased. And increased. And increased.
Unsure if the device hurt her—or just scared her—she whimpered.
“All right, I’ll leave it at this pressure for a while and see how you do.”
Pressure. Her eyes widened. He had a pussy pump on her—a suction device. Now she recognized the feeling. It didn’t really quite hurt, but was extremely disconcerting, as if a giant mouth kept sucking on her entire pussy.
She looked up at his looming presence in her shadowy world and couldn’t make out the features of his face.
His hands were warm as he massaged a light oil into her stomach and breasts. “You have the softest skin,” he murmured. “Like silk.” His callused fingers scraped lightly as he rolled her nipple, making it peak.
A sultry hunger flowed to her core, adding to the sensations. Having his hands on her again was the most bittersweet of pleasures.
Jake idly caressed Rainie’s full breasts as he contemplated her response. Her color had heightened. Her nipples beaded tightly.