Dom Wars - Round One Read online

  And fuck how my angel sang for me. She fucking sang the song of my soul. She made it rain fire down my spine, tingling, hard, licking into my balls and cock. My hips moved to its urgent demand.

  The fire was beyond me, made me its beast. I threw my head back with a roar, my thrusts matching our heartbeats. The glorious orgasm gripped me in its relentless clutch and I jerked Tara against me, wanting her tight in my arms for my first plunge into that one way abyss of This.

  “Oh God. Oh God.” Tara’s was right behind me. Still in orbit, I grabbed her waist, needing to see her sweet body meeting mine. I watched her in rapture as she fucking came undone, arcing with the shatter of walls inside her. “Lucian!”

  Oh fuck, she’d screamed it. I pressed her face to mine and Tara let out a sob in my ear and I gasped at the sound, what it meant. Free. My baby was free. Fuck, yes. Chills ran over my body as the last shudder of orgasm rippled through me. We’d made the jump. Together. Lost ourselves in each other. God, I loved her.

  I panted in ecstasy’s aftermath, my soul on fire from the binding. I couldn’t see it but I could feel it. That Formal Collar. That ultimate bondage. A tidal wave of holy fuck slammed me as I tasted what this ultimate collar really was. It wasn’t the ultimate prison, as so many thought. Or the final game. It was the ultimate freedom. The ultimate game.

  And we’d just christened the playing field.

  ****

  Midafternoon. The buzzer sounded followed by an announcement directing the contestants to the dining room again. Tara and I had packed our belongings, ready to depart the mansion. No doubt we were disqualified, after I injured Duff. It didn’t matter. I’d have done it all over again.

  I paced near the door, waiting for Tara. Anticipation of seeing her in a formal gown had my hands shaking. What would she wear? Something opulent? Or simply elegant? My vote was for simple and elegant. Her natural beauty would overshadow anything else and make it look like a rag.

  Some sense alerted me and I turned in time to catch her standing still, staring at me with an odd look in those hazel eyes. She stood there in a ruby red silk sheath that left her shoulders bare and clung to every curve.

  I felt like I’d been punched in the gut, blindsided by her beauty. I stood there like a dumbstruck fool, just staring at her.

  The buzzer woke me, calling us to the dining room. I offered her my hand and she moved forward to take it. Before we left the room, I paused and turned her to me. “I can’t go out there without knowing.”

  “What?”

  I slid my thumb along her cheek. “That no matter how this turns out… you’re mine.”

  She swallowed with a small smile. “Maybe.”

  Excitement erupted in my stomach and groin at the sweet challenge in her warm gaze.

  “If you let me.” I lowered and kissed along her neck. “I have things planned.”

  Her breath hit my cheek as I worked along her jaw. “Tell me.”

  I shuddered. “I really liked the way you screamed my name.”

  A gasp escaped her and I stroked my fingers along the pulse in her neck.

  “I need that from you, baby. Every day. Your pleasure. I have so many toys I want to use on you so many roles to play. Will you let me?”

  She answered with a whimpered yes that lit me on fire.

  I made her look at me. “As far as I’m concerned, we both won. I’ll help you find a way to get your grandmother home. Okay?”

  She nodded and fanned her eyes when they teared up.

  I kissed her forehead and held my arm out to her. She smiled with a blush and I led her to the dining room, hand in hand, lost in some kind of haze that isolated us from the rest of the world.

  At the door of the dining room, a maître de in a black tux showed us to our seats. This time each couple had a small, intimate table. We took our seats and as soon as all the couples were in place, the waiters approached laden with plates.

  The moment everyone was served, the wait-staff disappeared, leaving us to sit and wait for things to get underway. To my surprise, Duff came in wearing a pirate style eye-patch, led carefully by the woman he’d so abused the day before.

  The blonde announcer came in as we ate, again dressed to the hilt in her executive mistress attire. The only thing that really hinted at her lifestyle, was the narrow straps of studded leather that laced Roman-style up her shapely calves. “We’d like to encourage you to mix and interact following your meal. But I’m sure you’re very anxious to know who won, and why, so we’ll get that part out of the way. We also have some further surprises for you.”

  She strolled around through the tables, her wireless microphone occasionally squealing with feedback. “First, we must thank Gladiator, Inc. for sponsoring this competition. Dom World dot com and Submit dot com joined together to provide this lavish setting for us.” A murmur of surprise went through the contestants.

  “And without further ado… the moment you’ve all been waiting for…” The screen behind her illuminated, displaying Gladiator, Inc.‘s corporate logo again. She pressed a button on the control device in her hand and the screen changed. “Contestants were judged on various things. As you knew, every item on the assignments list came with point values, as did the various toys you could implement in those assignments. What you didn’t know you were being judged for was your ability to dominate in every aspect of the lifestyle.” She turned to the contestants. “Many people confuse a Dom personality with a Dom’s position of authority. The two are not exactly the same or interchangeable. A true Dom dominates. Plain and simple. And by dominate, we mean does what it takes to get a job done. Even if that means submit.”

  She turned back to the screen. “The third thing you were judged on is interaction. How well you worked with your partner in each role you chose. During the assignments, after, and between. All of this matters in the real world of BDSM. And that is the criteria by which we judged.”

  Again she turned to the screen and clicked her little button. “I’ll announce the scores and then I’ll announce the demerits. There were quite a few, sorry to say.” She signaled to somebody in the room and the lights dimmed. “Team One accumulated a total of 354.” Another click. “Team Two: 734.” Click. “Team Three made 1,768.” My heart hammered my chest and I squeezed Tara’s hand. “Team Four: 1,550.”

  I gasped in relief and Tara clapped happily. They’d given her the bonus.

  “And Team Five: 421 points.”

  “We lost?” Tara whispered.

  I shook my head with an I’m not sure look.

  “The next announcement is the demerits. Starting with Team One: -75. Team two. -0. Team Three. -250.” My heart slammed my chest and Tara’s nails dug in my palm. “Team Four:” She searched us out with a look of regret. “-1,550. And finally, Team 5: -421 points.

  “We lost all our points?” Tara shrilled in small voice.

  I pulled her hand to my lips and kissed it. “I’m sorry, love.”

  “As I’ve said we have a surprise.” She turned off the monitor and faced us. “What you also didn’t know about this competition, is that it’s not over. This was a competition of elimination. And we’ve eliminated all but one team who will go on…” she paused for emphasis, “to represent our country in a GLOBAL DOM WARS.”

  She grinned and clapped and everybody followed suit. I put my arm around Tara who sat there, head down on the table.

  “But before you get excited, I have one more announcement. As you know, this entire thing was broadcast live online. Well… we decided early on that we’d let our audience participate in the judging. And so they were given the ability to vote. We also decided that each vote would represent a point.”

  Tara’s head popped up at hearing this.

  “Team Three.” She faced them. “You guys dominated the first two days. But something happened on day three that changed that. A particular couple did something that apparently the audience really liked. And they earned over a million points. In three hours.�
��

  She turned to us next. “Tara Reese and Lucian Bane. You dominated. Then you failed. And then you dominated the hearts of the viewers on day three. You will represent our country in the global DOM WARS.”

  Oh holy fuck. She ended with clapping and everybody slowly followed suit while Tara jumped on me, nearly knocking me out of the chair. “We won! We won! Oh my God, we won!”

  I crushed her to me in a rush of relief and shock. “Yes, love. We fucking did.”

  When the noise settled down, the woman said, “The two of you will be up against nineteen other couples from all over the world that won the Dom Wars segment for their geographical region.”

  Jase Duff growled. “This was rigged from the start! Those two don’t know anything about the lifestyle, don’t have any connections. Hell, they could pass for store clerks!”

  The announcer smiled and approached him. “You fail to understand Gladiator, Inc.‘s goal with this competition. We want to bring the BDSM lifestyle into every soccer mom’s bedroom around the world. By showing that someone can look completely normal and still have a fulfilling kink life, we’re making it acceptable for the lady with the white picket fence and two point five kids to enjoy the flogger and being bound. Her husband will no longer be considered a deviant because he wants to have her trust and have control over their sexual pleasure.”

  The announcer continued. “You, sir, and others like you, will scare average people away from the lifestyle like rats off a sinking ship, and lure varmints to the scene of that crime.”

  She turned back to Tara and me. “The next phase starts in seventy-two hours. We’ll fill you in on what you need to know before the competition starts. But I’ll tell you this much. In the upcoming challenges, you’ll be judged individually and as a team.” She looked at Tara. “And let me just say, honey. You might really want to work on your submissiveness because if your team’s sub fails to perform as specified in the events, the Dom will be punished for his lack of effectiveness. Which includes having to auction his sub to the top ranking Dom based on daily scores for the temporary training from a more qualified Dom.”

  Oh fuck.

  Tara’s brows went higher with each bit of information. “But wait, why does Lucian have to be the Dom? I’m a Dom too, maybe even better than he is. Right, babe?”

  My stomach was in knots with this news. Especially with knowing how fucking fantastic a sub Tara wasn’t. “We might want to talk about this, Tara.”

  “Talk about what?”

  “Who is more qualified.”

  “But I’m not good at subbing, cant’ you?”

  “We’ll talk about it later.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. But if you think about it, you’ll recall how well I did with Domming. I—”

  “Tara!” I glared at her with raised brows. “Can we talk about it later?”

  She stared at me, her mouth open, looking from me to the woman standing there with a huge knowing grin.

  “Ohhh, she gone get sold! Watch!” This from the phlegm woman followed by loud laughter. “Who wants to bet?” Chatter and laughter immediately erupted in the room in agreement.

  “Fine. Fine, I’ll be quiet. I’ll talk later, we’ll talk later. And make the right decision. Tara’s mouth finally shut as she stared at me and I could only assume she’d gotten the message I’d been telepathically screaming at her.

  “What?” she nearly mouthed.

  Dear God was there ever a more perfect picture of un-submissiveness?

  She flicked her finger between the two of us. “We need to talk about this.”

  All the joy and rapture I’d felt five minutes earlier when we were announced the winners, slowly fizzled away. We’d gone from the fun and rush of the Pony Express to the fear and complexity of a runaway train full of horse shit.