Dom Wars - Round One Page 8

The woman’s lips curved like a snake as she opened the envelope and pulled out a card. Her eyebrows raised. “Tara from team four is to be auctioned—”

  “Mother fuck.” Lucian slumped a little like he’d been holding his breath.

  “And the contestant who gets his bonus time with our lovely Tara is…”

  Lucian was back to rigid and I held my breath.

  “Burt Mathers from team three.”

  Again Lucian slumped in relief, I hoped, before bringing his mouth to my ear. “If he selects anything sexual, or physically painful, you’re done.”

  “I can handle it Lucian.” I made my whisper harsh so he wouldn’t know how nervous I was. “I’ll quit if I can’t.” He sat back and I turned his face to me. “I’ll quit myself if I can’t handle it. I know what I can handle. You have to trust me on this one. Lots of years of therapy, okay? Degree in psychology.”

  He stared at me, his eyes calculating. “Remember what I said.”

  His hard voice and the brutal look in his eyes were entirely new to me, and sent a shiver up my spine. I nodded and he went back to brooding.

  “Will the contestants come up please?”

  ****

  The second Tara left the couch, a surge of energy bolted through me, leaving every muscle locked with a new domination whose middle name was Rage. I could barely breathe as the crushing power held me in a vice, burning like demonic acid in my bones. I stood behind the couch needing a barrier for the moment, something to prevent me from throttling someone.

  If that man did one thing to Tara, he would die. Locked and loaded, I eyed the man called Burt as he strolled like Mr. Normal and stood to the right of the woman in red. I suddenly realized not knowing the man might be more dangerous. The only thing I’d gotten from supper about him was that he knew Duff. That in itself didn’t speak well for the man.

  They walked to the stage and I followed, stopping at the very edge of the allowed perimeter, leaving maybe twenty feet between myself and him. I’d need the momentum of speed if I had to step in. My heart thundered in my chest and I struggled to bring it under control.

  The man leaned his head toward Tara and talked in her ear. I couldn’t see her face and I walked along the perimeter for a better angle, straining to hear the low mumbling. She nodded rapidly, mumbled something and I tensed as he nodded as well. They’d agreed to something.

  The man finally stepped away and circled her until he stood at her shoulder. He remained there for nearly a minute, looking down at her like a predator sniffing his meal. What the fuck did he have planned? She’d made a lot of button-pressing remarks at supper the night before, but I couldn’t be sure if any of his had been selected. Maybe all. And I didn’t know what monster lurked behind the door leading to that dungeon in his soul.

  Tara stood with her eyes closed. The fact that I could see her chest moving from where I stood said she was scared. What was he fucking doing? God I wished he’d do it. Just…do it. Put your fucking hands on her. I silently willed him to cross a line, any line. I took mental note of where bodies were that might try to stop me, calculating several scenarios.

  I froze as he slid a hand up Tara’s arm furthest from me. His hand made it to her shoulder, and she slowly raised it in a cringe. Was he just going to intimidate her? I could handle that.

  He finally made his move. The wrong move. His hand wrapped in her hair and he jerked her head back. It was like lighting an extremely short fuse and Tara exploded like dynamite, slamming the man on the floor much the way she’d done with me, sending my adrenalin into overdrive and the audience behind me to their feet.

  “You can’t. Fucking pull. My hair. I just told you that.”

  The man grunted in pain with his face smashed to the floor, arm pulled up and back in a painful hold.

  Tara looked at me and gave me an I got it baby nod, while panting.

  “I’m sorry,” the man gasped.

  “You’re sorry?” Tara gave a light chuckle and pulled his arm harder, making him scream. “Ohhh, now that sounds a little more like sorry.”

  A new energy mixed with my fear as I watched her. Hope. Pride.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The man’s voice broke like a boy in puberty.

  “You gonna let a girl take you?” Duff sneered from somewhere behind me. “I’d fucking kill that bitch.”

  I gritted my teeth, resisting the temptation to unleash my pent up rage on that Berlin wall behind me.

  “I’m going to let you up.” Tara adjusted her grip. “And you can try again, okay?”

  “Okay.” Little spineless prick.

  Tara let him go, and he grabbed and flipped her. Before I could react, Tara escaped and grappling ensued as he tried to get an advantage.

  It nearly killed me, not stepping in, but she was handling it. I went back to the invisible track I paced on the floor, and watched.

  The guy gained a second of leverage and whooped in celebration. Then Tara flipped him hard and wrapped herself in his legs. The guy screamed and banged his hand on the floor.

  “Woohoo,” Tara yelled then laughed. “Didn’t see that coming, huh?”

  He thrashed in agony as she put more pressure on his knee. Fuck, was she going to break it? That would cost her. Oh God, I’d pay her. I couldn’t pay her enough to snap it, just snap his fucking knee baby and let’s walk the fuck out of here.

  What a fucking thrill. I got to watch her nearly break both legs and even his back before the timer went up. When it did, the Dungeon Managers came in to ensure everything was okay. They took the man to triage and Tara hurried to me.

  Duff came out of fucking nowhere to her right. “I got your party, bitch.”

  I didn’t make it in time. I didn’t fucking make it. He slammed his head into hers and she dropped limp to the floor.

  My heart stopped and before it started back, I was running and Duff’s face was getting closer.

  Rage screamed like a tornado in my ears. Then I was airborne, train-wrecking into Duff, praying I could take him apart before they stopped me.

  Knowing I wouldn’t get a second chance, I aimed for his face, fingers like ready daggers. My right thumb found treasure and I dug in.

  His scream erupted as I was yanked off of him. But I’d got him. He thrashed beneath the men tending him, holding his eye. At the sight of blood on his hand, I smiled, so fucking happy. So. Fucking. Happy.

  “She’s coming around.”

  I jerked to see Tara sitting up and fought to go to her. “Let me go. Let me go to her, fucking let me go!”

  She struggled to get to her feet, reaching a hand to me. The look on her face fucking broke me. She was sorry. She was sorry.

  And I was fucking in love. I was so. Fucking. In love with her.

  Chapter Ten

  I sat on the couch back in our room, my body once again coiled and tight. But now it was with other things. Needs. Too many. Too strange. It was my turn to Dom and I was beside myself with how exactly I would do that. I had Tara cooking for me. Still clothed. I was terrified to scare her. Terrified with the need to take her in a way that might get my ass handed to me. Terrified that I might actually want that. Need it.

  She’d touched something in me that day I got pinned by her. That thing in me. That odd hunger that sent me running out of the BDSM community and into a soul search. Beneath the initial shock of her strength, it was there, that reckless energy deep inside, wanting something, something to do with her, something to do with…something. I needed to figure out what.

  I mean, was I not a true Dom? Was she actually more of a Dom than I was? What the fuck was a Dom anyway? Who wrote these definitions into the manual? Who decided who I was? No fucking body. I did. I decided.

  Now I had a more pressing and immediate decision to make. We didn’t know what would come of the little circus we’d just left. We didn’t even know if she earned the bonus points and if she did, whether or not I’d lost them for her. I didn’t know what she was thinking because she wouldn�
��t fucking look me in the eyes since we got back to the room. So, my guess was, nothing good.

  How was I supposed to play Dom for points while she was upset with me? I didn’t want to play Dom with her and I especially didn’t want to do it for points.

  My tongue moved restlessly in my mouth, watching her in the kitchen, fantasizing. Not about how many ways I wanted to fuck her, or taste her, but about having her entirely. While I fucked her and tasted her.

  And what was it with me and eyes lately? Since when did it bother me for a woman not to look me in the eyes? Never. But with her, I needed her to. I needed to see what I did to her, what I caused in her. I wanted to be on her mouth, in her mind, I wanted to bind her the way she bound me with just one kiss.

  God no. It was one look. I saw it when our gazes first locked, picking up change on the ground. It was right there, this… fucking heaven. And it sank its beautiful nails into my heart until I ached for the mystery of it. The something amazing. The something I needed to get lost in. Get found in.

  “Tara.”

  “Uh, yes?”

  “Can we talk?”

  “Sure.”

  Her light answer told me she was in that mode. Hell, she was always in it. Problem was, I needed to get around it. She sat across from me, letting me know we were back to somewhat friends. A pressure gathered in my chest and I took a deep breath around it. “You said you’d tell me.”

  “Oh. Yeah.” She angled her gaze up and clasped her hands in her lap, posture erect. “Well…” Her tone was light, like she were about to take a walk down memory lane in a casual omniscient voice. “When I was nineteen. I was gang raped in college.”

  She actually met my gaze with a little smile and nod and I thought I’d be sick. I stared at her then finally lowered my gaze, unable to take the look in her eyes. I shook my head a little trying to understand why I couldn’t stand it.

  “How do you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Pretend.”

  She narrowed her gaze a bit. “Pretend what?”

  “That you’re not in a prison.”

  She gave a little laugh and stared at me, almost guarded. “I don’t pretend.” She shook her head a little, looking offended. “Why would you say that? I know who I am. I know what I feel. I know I have issues, I deal with them the best I can.” She dusted off something from her legs as if to demonstrate. “I have OCD because of the trauma, PTSD, I have an endless list of phobias that I’ve inherited from the event.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “I should have been more sensitive.”

  “Pfft. How would you know?”

  “There are plenty of signs.”

  “Ohhh, I imagine there are. But to assume they lead to that would take a mind reader.”

  I stared at her, that pressure in my chest nearly hurting. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that? No, don’t. Don’t look away. Look at me. Please.”

  She kept her eyes down, her brows furrowed.

  “You can’t pretend with me. I guess I’m glad, I hate pretenders. But I can’t tell you how much it kills me to think your mind sees me as a threat.”

  She nodded, still not meeting my gaze then finally pointed at me. “Ah yes. You hate to hurt women. I have to wonder what happened to you to set you so vehemently against that.”

  “You think it’s unnatural to not want to hurt women?”

  She looked at me finally, her professional mask on. I suddenly wanted to crush it into a million pieces so she couldn’t hide from me. “Of course it’s not unnatural. But I think you display an unnatural amount of anguish over it. Have you noticed?”

  It was my turn to look away. Yes I knew, I noticed. If anybody else had, they’d never said it. “I think it was from having to paddle my little sister once.”

  She didn’t say anything and I took a deep breath. If I told her, would she open up to me? It was worth a shot. “I was twelve and…my little sister was told not to play by the creek by the house. I was told to watch her. She was only four. Well, being an average twelve year old, I got distracted, and Rachel did as she was told not to do and…” I shrugged, fingering the hem on my pants. “My father came home and discovered it and she was punished. And I was made to paddle her.” I slowly scraped my teeth over my lower lip. “I’d never been so… fucking hurt by something. It wasn’t her fault, it was mine. I should have been the one punished and I begged for him to punish me not her, told him he could give me as many paddles as he liked. No, he’d said. This is the better punishment. This way you will never forget again. And he was right. I never forgot.” I couldn’t look up at her, the weight of that shame burning through me fresh.

  “What… did she think?”

  Pain speared my chest and I gasped. “She cried and begged me to stop. I was too scared of my father doing it instead though, so I did it. He made me give her ten spankings with the paddle. She was only four.” I grit my teeth as tears burned in my eyes “She… she wanted to comfort me after,” I whispered. “She was such… a sweetheart. I’d cried more than she did and she wanted to comfort me.” I shook my head in eternal fucking regret. “And the fucking bastard wouldn’t let her.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  I nodded. “Me too. I’ve never told anybody that. Too fucking ashamed.”

  “I understand.”

  I wiped my face and looked at her. “You understand shame? For something you didn’t really deserve?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I do. I feel it from what happened, there’s nothing really I can do about it.” She shrugged a little and smiled.

  “That,” I said.

  “That?”

  “That pretense. That it doesn’t hurt.”

  “Hurt? Not so much. Angry, yes.”

  She was in denial. That’s what it was. And until she dealt with the pain, she’d never get past it. It was the same for me, but I never had a reason to deal with it. Her pain needed dealing with because it kept her from living. It kept her from feeling. And it kept her from me.

  “I’m the Dom tonight.”

  Her walls shot up and pain hit me. It didn’t matter how much that hurt. It didn’t matter that it was like having my baby sister afraid of me. I had promises to keep. I had chains to break. And I had a woman to free.

  And pleasure was my rod of iron.

  “You remember what I promised to do to you love?”

  She clasped her hands together and cleared her throat a little. “Yep. I do.” She scraped at her fingernails. “I do.”

  “Say it for me.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “I’m the Dom tonight, love. That means you do as I say. And call me master. Unless of course you’re ready to quit.”

  She shook her head while looking off to the right. “No. No quitting. Just… tell me what to do. Master.”

  I didn’t know what ached more. My heart or my cock. “I want you to say it. Tell me what I’m going to do to you.”

  “Forced orgasm.” She tossed the word out.

  “Yes. Forced orgasm. I’m going to tie you up. And I’m going to worship every inch of your body. With my lips. My tongue. My fingers. And my cock. Now, stand up. And undress for me. Slowly.”

  My detailed description had shaken her. Not as much as it had me. To say the words out loud got me so hard.

  “Right now?”

  “Right now.”

  She hesitated briefly. “Can I pay you extra to get out of this?”

  “You forget I’m willing to pay to be able to do it.” And that was still true.

  “Fine.” There was that anger she’d encased her pain in. The one I needed to crush. She stood and began to undress.

  “Slower.”

  She huffed and slowed down and I watched her ass come into view only to clench my eyes shut at seeing red welts. God damn.

  “Turn to me.” I waited a few seconds and opened my eyes. She stood completely nude hands covering h
erself.

  I looked at her. “Can you guess what I’m going to tell you next?”

  She took a deep breath and looked up with only her eyeballs then dropped her arms.

  “Very good. So very good. Now come here.” I stood and waited for her to obey, my eyes locked on her breasts. The need to adore them took the strength from my legs. She stopped before me, her gaze on my chest. “Undress me now.”

  She rolled her eyes slowly up to meet mine with a really look. She shook her head a little and began shoving my shirt up over my abs. I leaned a little so she could pull it over my head.

  “Get on your knees. And take off my pants.”

  She dropped to her knees and did as I said, her movements still jerky and pissed. That was okay. For now.

  When all of my clothes were off I whispered, “Touch me.”

  “Where?”

  “Everywhere.”

  “Starting from?”

  “My feet. With your lips.”

  She gave a snort and mumbled as she lowered to the floor and began kissing my feet with hard loud smacks, working her way up my legs. It was difficult not to smile but I really needed to make this count.

  “You missed a spot.” I pushed her back down to her knees, my hand on her head. “I hope you know I’m being a very kind master right now. And while your ass may be too sore for spanking, your pretty pussy isn’t.”

  I held my cock and waved it at her. “Here, love.”

  “I know where it is, Jesus, it’s not like I can miss it.”

  “That was my thought. And yet you did.”

  “I didn’t miss it.”

  “So you disobeyed?”

  “I guess you can call it that.”

  “Now I have to punish you.”

  “More than you are?”

  Fuck. Too bad I wasn’t into masochism because her words and cold tone would be giving me a fucking orgasm. I let more of my Dom surface. “Lay on the couch Tara. On your back.”

  Like a two year old, she got up and stomped to the couch and laid down like a person in a coffin.

  I went over and stood next to her. “Look at me.”

  She looked at me.

  “Open your legs wide for me.”

  She shut her eyes and opened her legs about half of what I needed.