The Dom's Dungeon

Chapter Eight

I got off.

Mac picked up a floppy-eared elephant and threw it across the yard. With a happy bark, Butler flew in pursuit, snatching it up before it had a chance to bounce, and pranced back to her, the elephant honking whenever his teeth pressed on the rubber nose.

She still couldn't get past the fact that she'd been horny and wet on Saturday night. God knew she'd tried before—okay, maybe not much—but she'd forced herself to accept dates in college. She'd gone out with men, had kissed men, and had even let them touch her until she couldn't stand having their hands on her any longer. No interest, no arousal, nothing.

But with Alex. She blew out an exasperated breath and pressed a hand over her quivering stomach. How had he done that to her? And he had accomplished it, not her. Surely not because he'd spanked her? Her automatic denial faded when she remembered how he'd held her down, how his hard hand had slapped her bottom, and how…strange…she'd felt.

Okay, maybe the spanking had something to do with how she reacted to him.

But the way he treated her had something to do with it also. He'd shown perfect control over himself—and her.

Bouncing with his excitement, Butler dropped the prize at her feet.

“What a good dog.” She chose a duck from the toy box and let fly. Butler looked at the elephant on the ground—his favorite, she knew—and at the duck soaring across the yard. The duck won.

Mac leaned against the patio post, feeling like she'd aged about fifty years. Too much had happened over the past few days. Today—she'd spent today interviewing. Yesterday, Sunday, she'd escaped the house early and spent the day and evening sightseeing anywhere and everywhere she could think of. Anything to avoid talking with Alex.

Saturday? Well. She'd made an enemy, been attacked, been kissed. And had her first orgasm in well over twelve years. Her first one since she was a teenager and got herself there. She wrapped her arms around herself. Even the memory made her feel strange, as if she had turned into a stranger to herself.

Whores don't get off.

I'm not a whore.

But would that self-image ever go away? She'd only walked the streets of Des Moines for a year, and although feeling like an eternity, that time was just a small portion of her life. Then again, after the people in Jim's tiny town of Oak Hollow had discovered her past, they'd looked at her with revulsion. So, in a way, that one year had lasted many. Was it true that a person became what others thought of them?

Thud. Dancing a little, Butler acted like he'd brought her the stars and the moon. What a cutie. She hugged the stocky body and received a cursory lick on her neck before he stepped back, head lifted as if to say, I'm busy here. Stay on task.

She laughed and treated him to his elephant again. Later, when he'd worn out her throwing arm, she might be able to get him to snuggle against her.

Much as she'd snuggled against Alex Saturday night after he'd helped her off the table. He'd studied her face for a second, then picked her up and carried her to a quiet corner and just held her. He'd talked to her, but she didn't remember a word he'd said, just the sound of his deep voice.

Later that night, she'd sat up in her bed and stared at the flowery wall illumined by the nightlight she'd taken from the bathroom. And remembered again. Alex hadn't gotten off.

That still seemed the most unreal part of the event.

Butler barked sharply, and Mac jumped. The Lab gave her an exasperated look and pointed his nose at the elephant lying on her shoes.

“Sorry, baby.” She took the elephant from Butler and put it into the toy box. “I'm done. Can I bribe you with a dog cookie?” she asked, bending to stroke his head.

At the club, Alex had concentrated on giving her pleasure. That just wasn't normal. What kind of a man was he? She straightened, shook her head, and ran right into Alex, bouncing off a chest as solid as a concrete wall.

He chuckled as he grabbed her upper arms to steady her. “Sorry, pet. I didn't realize you hadn't heard me.”

She looked up into his blue eyes. The ocean sounds from Saturday night seemed to fill her ears, and this time she felt caught in a riptide, pulled helplessly…somewhere. “Um. Right. We…we were just playing.”

He smiled, took her face between his hands, and kissed her gently. His lips still held that tantalizing, velvety firmness.

When he stepped back, she knew her heart had sped up.

Alex stroked his thumb over her soft lips. Pretty little sub, all flushed and confused. If she were anyone else, were a normal submissive living in his household, he'd strip her down and take her right now. Maybe lash her hands to the unobtrusive rings he'd bolted into the pillars, lift her legs, and…

He smiled down into her big brown eyes and squeezed her shoulders instead, enjoying the tremor that ran through her at his touch. He'd pushed her hard at the club, taking advantage of how the attack had lowered her defenses and, even better, her unexpected bout of jealousy. She'd responded beyond his expectations, but he could see she was shaken to the core. The little sub had pain buried in her, deep hurts and scars. His job as a Dom was to expose and help her deal with them, but she—

“Why didn't you stay with Cynthia?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts. “She's beautiful.”

“A good question, but first let's find something to eat.” He took her hand and pulled her into the kitchen. “Margaret should have restocked the refrigerator today.” And she had. The refrigerator held a pan of lasagna. Alex set the oven and tucked the dish in, looking forward to the meal. Margaret made a fine lasagna.

Showing a pleasing stubborn streak, MacKensie insisted they make a fruit salad to tide them over until the lasagna could bake. She shoved an apple and knife over to his half of the island and then started cutting up strawberries. Her delicate hands handled the knife with terrifying competence, reminding him that a veterinarian was also a surgeon.

Mac was skillful, stubborn, assertive, and so insecure that she'd stayed away from the house all of yesterday, coming in late enough that she could merely nod at him without meeting his gaze. He'd given her the space and time to think things out, and obviously she felt more on an even keel today.

“Cynthia?” she reminded him, scooping her pile into the salad bowl.

“Cynthia is beautiful,” he agreed. “Clever, rich, and charming when she wants to be. She's also self-centered and”—he waggled the apple—“rotten on the inside.” Her indifference to anyone's pain and problems disgusted him.

“But you were together?”

“'Together' isn't the correct term.” He held a piece of apple to MacKensie's mouth and grinned when she gave the fruit a suspicious glance before accepting it. Did she realize how much a Dom enjoyed hand-feeding his sub?

He continued. “She knows that I don't get involved with anyone. As for dating her, I topped her once at the club and served as her Dom at a few parties. She never spent the night here; I've never entered her apartment.”

“Oh.” Mac accepted another bite. “Considering how much she wants you, she surely put her best foot forward. But you didn't date her long, so how did you know she's a bad apple?”

Alex smiled. Even a Dom could be blinded to a person's motivations, at least at first, and in trying to avoid women just after his money, he'd ended up with Cynthia. In escaping from Cynthia, he got this little cat with all sorts of problems, but who considered taking his money to be an affront to her pride. Definitely a leap up.

He watched her cut up another strawberry, the blade flashing. Tiny hands, fragile wrists, yet he could see the muscles in her bare arms. Her breasts were well concealed under a white button-down shirt, her legs hidden under a tailored skirt. Interview clothes. So very tidy. Time to muss her up a little and remind her she could be aroused.

After she tossed the last fruit slices into the bowl, he grasped her around the waist, enjoying the tiny gasp, and set her on a clean place on the island. Pushing her skirt up, he edged between her legs.

“What are you doing?” The pupils in her brown eyes had dilated, and her voice turned husky.

He ran his hands along her legs, over her firm ass, up her waist, and stopped just under her breasts. “I wanted to remember how your body feels under my hands,” he murmured.

“Alex.” She caught his hands and held them in front of her. Her mouth firmed into a straight line, showing the stubborn line of her jaw.

“More worries, little sub?” he asked, expecting to hear the “no sex” objection.

“You don't know me. Not at all.” Her small body tightened. “I'm not a nice person either. You wouldn't like me once… Um, you wouldn't like me.”

So many fears. How did someone so competent and caring acquire such self-doubt? “MacKensie.”

She stilled at his growl.

“Let me tell you what I see, sweetheart. Your core”—he pressed his open palm between her breasts, felt her rapid breathing—“the heart of you is sweet. Loving. Tender.” He smiled. Did she realize he'd watched Butler suck her into throwing the chew toys for far longer than most people would have tolerated? He'd seen the hugs and kisses and seen Butler's adoration. Butler liked anyone who got past his guard and petted him. But he reserved his adoration for a very few special people.

“I, of course, checked your recommendations and records. You're incredibly intelligent, with a fine education and a solid reputation as a vet.”

Her fingers relaxed, and her eyes widened. Surprise and…pleasure. Did no one in her life compliment her? He no longer wondered if she'd experienced abuse in the past; he just wanted to know what kind.

Childhood pain seemed likely. But that business with arousal… Had she been raped? The way her body had tensed on the bench when he'd put a finger into her vagina… Had she expected pain or humiliation?

No matter right now. He'd pushed her at the club. Time to go easy. He pulled her shirt loose from the skirt and slid his hands under the shirt and up her back.

She inhaled, her muscles tensing, her spine straightening. Her hands gripped his shoulders, her fingers digging into his muscles in her instinctive reaction to a man's hands on her body. “We're not… This isn't a club or party,” she said, her voice unsteady.

“You're very observant,” he said. He was observant as well; she hadn't said no, and her protest had been more for form's sake. She wanted his touch—and feared it at the same time. So he ignored the rigidity of her muscles and simply pleased himself, running his hands over her bared skin in a subtle reminder that her body was available to him. Those toned muscles under silky-soft skin were a delight to a Dom's hands. He continued, keeping his touch only on her waist, never venturing near her breasts or under her skirt.

The tiny hands on his shoulders relaxed, and her breathing slowed as the lack of threat let her enjoy his touch.

Then, with a smothered sigh of regret, he removed his hands, pulled her shirt down, and set her on her feet. “Let's eat on the patio.”

A week of interviews. Could there be anything more stressful in the entire world than having strangers grill you about anything and everything? Too tired to climb the stairs to her room, Mac went through the house to the back. She stepped out onto the patio and stretched, trying to relieve the knots in her shoulders.

No one had offered her a position yet. She huffed a laugh. She'd actually had this vague hope that she'd walk into a clinic and they'd jump up from behind a desk and give her a job. Maybe even a partnership. Apparently they hadn't read that script. The vets who had interviewed her had been polite, but they had others to interview and credentials to check.

Sad to say, she didn't have a huge number of references to wave in front of them. Aside from the vet who'd bought Jim's clinic, the only names on her list came from college. But they were glowing recommendations at least. Since her instructors hadn't known her past, they'd judged her only on competence. And I'm damned competent.

A scramble of feet came from inside the house, and Butler charged out, a good eighty-or-so pounds of enthusiasm. Turning in circles so he could lick and get petted both, he knocked her back a step. Bracing herself, she giggled. How could she stay unhappy with this bundle of joy around?

“He missed you,” Alex said, stepping out the door.

God, just look at him. Dark tailored slacks, silky white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to display strong arms and lean hands. The top few buttons were undone, and her gaze caught on the hollow at the base of his throat surrounded by corded muscles.

Each night this week they'd had supper together, talked, watched TV. He'd kissed her and touched her, but never intimately. She'd changed the bandages on his back and tried to ignore how…pleasant…his bare skin felt under her fingers. She couldn't help but remember how his fingers had stroked her…entered her.

And now her fingers tingled with the need to touch him. To be touched. And wasn't that a bizarre feeling? When she met his gaze, she could see the amusement in his eyes, so she bent over to pet Butler some more and get her body under control.

He found this so simple. Women undoubtedly threw themselves at his feet—literally, she thought, thinking of Cynthia. But for her… The first time she'd really looked at a man in years and he had to be some all-powerful Dom. Rich, handsome, exuding confidence. If she'd actually planned to try a man-woman relationship, she'd have chosen someone nice. Kind. Easy. Not someone who—

Firm hands closed around her wrists, anchoring them behind her back as Alex pulled her up against him. He kissed her, teasing, lazy kisses, his mouth gentle, his body hard, and his grip ruthless. The mixture made her head spin. Her insides seemed to melt into a pool, and her balance disappeared as he coaxed her into more: into deeper, into wetter, into hotter. When he pulled back, her nipples ached, and her pussy felt as swollen as her lips.

He brushed his lips over hers, then nipped her chin, and the tiny pain awakened more urgency inside her. “I missed you too, pet,” he murmured.

With a whine, Butler stepped on her feet, trying to get closer.

Alex let her go and leaned against the patio table. “Do you have any interviews this weekend?”

“No.” Unnerved by the heaviness in her limbs, she knelt to scratch Butler's sides, sending him into a frenzy of delight.

“The newscasters predict sunny skies tomorrow, although there's no guarantee with Washington weather. I thought we'd host a few people at the Vashon Island house.”

“Vashon Island?”

“In the center of Puget Sound, just a ferry ride away.” He smiled. “Don't worry, little Midwesterner, you'll like it. You haven't even visited the beach yet, have you?”

The thrill of seeing an island diminished as the rest of his plans registered. Host.Few people. “What kind of people?” she asked suspiciously.

“Those kind of people. A few whips, a chain or two. A house party tends to be more casual than the club, although we'll undoubtedly indulge in some evil play with our subs.” He chuckled at her flinch. “Yes, that will include you, pet. We won't leave until noon, so you can sleep in.”

She swallowed and nodded, wrapping her arms around Butler, although who comforted whom, she wasn't sure.

“Relax, little cat. That's tomorrow. Not here yet.” Bending down, Alex tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled at her, his eyes crinkling. “Tonight, you deserve a reward for surviving all those interviews. I ordered us a pizza with everything on it.”

“Really?” When they'd shopped for her clothes, they'd wandered past a pizza place, fragrant with tomato sauce and melted cheese. She'd mentioned that she'd always rewarded herself for good grades with a fully loaded pizza.

Just an off-the-cuff comment…but he'd remembered.