Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(46)

“What?”

His lips twitched, but his face held no laughter. “The correct response is: Yes, Sir.” And he waited, not for her argument but for her to comply.

“Right. Yes, Sir.” Come to think of it, Zuri and Linda had discussed barefoot submissives. She toed off her boots, removed her socks, and set everything on an under-bar shelf. She was instantly another inch shorter…and this Dom already loomed over her.

“Good.” He studied her for a second. “My subbie, you’re still over-dressed. Let me fix that for you.”

“What?”

His arched eyebrow reminded her there were rules to the game. This was a game, right? “Uh, yessir.”

“Better.” He pulled her tucked-in shirt out of her jeans and unbuttoned it, pushing her hands out of his way. Rolling up the shirttail, he tied the ends beneath her breasts, snugly enough her breasts were forced half out of her bra. When he ran a finger over the plumped-up curves, her nipples bunched with excitement.

“Holt,” she protested.

“You have beautiful breasts, Josie.” His gaze held hers. “If I want to share the sight with others, that’s my prerogative for the next couple of hours. You think about that before we start. Because I intend for you to be wearing a lot less than this.”

The entire room had heated to that of a sauna, and with every brush of his fingertip over her skin, the temperature went up another degree. She swallowed hard. “Yes, Sir.”

He nodded approval and curled his hand around her nape, his grip not painful, but…firm. The heat of his hand seemed to sear her skin as he guided her toward the back of the room. “Let’s talk for a minute.”

Foliage plants in tall planters divided the sitting areas, lending privacy and muting the sound of the music and various scenes. When he sat on a couch, she moved to sit beside him.

“No, sweetheart.” He pointed to the floor directly in front of him. “Let’s start with the basics. Kneel, please.”

She closed her eyes. Years of not buckling under to a man warred with the bewildering need to obey. “That’s so wrong.”

“I understand,” he said evenly. “Josie, submissiveness has nothing to do with being male or female. You’ve been here long enough to see men kneeling as well.”

She had. And there were female Dominants. In all reality, female equality was perhaps honored even more in the Shadowlands than outside its doors.

And when it came to her and Holt, there was sure no question of who was the Dominant.

She knelt.

“Very nice.” He leaned forward, muscular forearms resting on his knees. “Straighten your spine and lace your hands together behind your back.”

The posture arched her spine, pushed her breasts outward, and made her shirt gape.

“Good.” He brushed his knuckles over her collarbone and between her breasts. “Some Doms prefer their submissives to look down. I’d rather have your eyes on me. Always on me. Clear?”

Her lips were dry. “Yes, Sir.”

“For this scene, I’m not planning on having anyone else involved. It’ll be just you and me for an hour or two. Nothing terrifying. I’d like to give you a taste of bondage and see how you like various impact toys. On a pain scale of 1 to 10 where 10 is bad, I don’t plan to go over a 3 to 5, and any red marks will disappear within a few hours.”

In rehab, Oma’s nurses had used a pain scale like this. Hadn’t Carson mentioned Holt worked in a hospital as well as the fire station? The knowledge was reassuring. “Okay.”

“And, as I warned you, the amount of clothing you’ll wear is up to me.”

She pulled in a breath. Submissives here were often stripped down to briefs…or nothing. Oh, God. But skin didn’t…really…bother her. Mostly.

“I need a verbal yes or no, pet.”

“Okay. Yes, Sir.”

“Brave girl.”

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek and the knot of worry relaxed…slightly.

“I looked at your application file. You have no medical problems, no triggers, no phobias that you know of, right?”

Oh, God, he’d actually looked at that embarrassing Limits List. Her stomach felt as if she’d swigged an entire bottle of fizzy water. Answer him, Josie. “No problems, right, Sir.” The words were coming easier the longer she was on her knees.

“We’ll use the club safewords. Yellow means you’re uncomfortable, emotionally or physically, and you want me to pause and fix the problem. Red means everything stops, and the scene is over.” He smiled. “But tonight, because you’re new, I’ll also quit if you say no. However, ouch isn’t a safeword in any way, shape, or form.”

She snickered—and made a mental note. Use red and yellow.

“Good. Next, let’s come to agreement on sexual contact.” He smiled into her eyes and ran his fingers over the top of her breasts. “This, by the way, is considered sexual contact. If you’re comfortable with my touch, I’d like to be able to play with your breasts and your pussy—outside and inside, with toys and fingers only.”

A flush scorched its way from her breasts to her face. Her heart had sped up…and his palm was pressed against her sternum. Maybe she could tell him she didn’t want him to touch her.