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Chapter 6
Well, this was certainly an interesting turn of events. He had planned to do the basic visitor stuff this weekend and take the time to really get acquainted with the Ranch. At the last minute, he had changed his mind. He had been nursing a case of blue balls all week long and Miss Emily Vaughn had him all tied up in knots and twisted sideways. He needed a release, and not the kind you get with a locked bathroom door and a bottle of lotion. He needed to dominate, to master, to punish. He needed a sub to bring to her knees. He wanted to tease and torture and mind fuck until his submissive was just as desperate as he was, and then he wanted to bend her over and fuck her into oblivion, until she screamed his name and begged him to stop.
The fact that that submissive would be Emily was going to make it all the sweeter, and a hell of a lot more complicated.
When it came to Emily, he wanted to do all the dirty, filthy, depraved things, but he also had an overwhelming urge to protect, cherish and nurture. That was not what this weekend was supposed to be about. Shaking his head, he cleared it of those thoughts. There would be time for that later, after this weekend was over, when he was Professor Rogers and she was again Miss Vaughn. Right now, he was Master Cole and she was simply his sub.
"On your knees, sub," he commanded sharply, narrowing his eyes to a squint.
There was a sharp intake of breath as she noted the change. Her eyes shuttered, and with a decisive nod, she sank to her knees on the floor in front of him.
"Well, it looks like you two have got this. Have a lovely weekend." He had forgotten Derek was still there and did not acknowledge his presence as the Ranch owner walked off.
Master Cole pulled a simple black collar and thin leash from his pocket and, without asking for consent, stooped to fasten the collar around her neck before attaching the leash.
"Take off your robe. I want everyone here to see what a beautiful little slut you are."
Beautiful little slut… a contradiction of compliments that only certain doms and submissives understood. He’d known from the start his Emily was one and her reaction to that command sealed how tonight would be played for them both. He saw the flinch of her belly, the tightening of her nipples beneath her robe, the race of goosebumps that shivered up her back before she could steel herself against it. Still on her knees, she kept her gaze on him as she slowly untied the satin sash holding her robe closed and shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor around her.
"Pick it up," he snapped, his pulse racing, the heating in his blood heading straight for his cock. "Hold it in your mouth and look at the floor. You haven't earned the right to gaze upon your Master."
She obeyed, slowly and with quiet deliberance. She was testing him. A righteous determination boiled in his veins. There was a bit of a power struggle happening, and if left unchecked, it would worsen. His submissive needed to be taught a lesson. He had hoped they would stay in the dungeon for a while and maybe scene in public while they got used to each other, but that wasn't going to happen.
"Get on all fours and crawl, sub. We’re going to my room. When we get there, I'm going to teach you a lesson about obeying without delay. I'm going to show you who is in charge here, in a way that you won’t soon forget."
There was a yip of surprise and her obedience was faster this time. She crawled at a rapid pace and he walked quickly behind her, barking commands at her as they made their way from the dungeon to the main floor.
When they returned to the part of the main building where the hotel was, with her on all fours in front of him, crawling like an animal, he called out the directions to his suite.
"Up the stairs. To the end of the hall. My room is the last one at the end. Nice and private, so no one will hear you scream."
It felt like the longest walk he’d ever taken. By the time they reached his room, his cock was rock hard and he was ready to play.
Mentally, he inventoried the things he had bought for the weekend, plotting out exactly what he wanted to do to her. Once the door closed behind them, though, he had a moment of indecision so sharp that it felt almost like panic. Now out of the dungeon, it was harder to stay in character. He ached to be strict with her, and yet there was a side of him that wanted to scoop her up and spank her senseless for agreeing to play with virtually no limits and with a Dom she didn't even know. Why would Derek have even agreed to that? Had she ever done this before? Either way, she was lucky her Dom for tonight had turned out to be him.
Or was she?
The jealous rush that came over him was difficult to swallow. He stalked across the room with her on the leash, rushing on her knees to keep up. Without a word, he looped the end of the leash around the post of his four poster bed, and when he was certain she was secure, he stomped around to stand in front of her, bending to take the silk robe from her mouth, before crossing his arms and leaning back to gaze at her. She was more beautiful than he could have imagined and just looking at her made him hard and horny, but he couldn't let her know that.
That part could wait. He wanted to hear her cries first.
His jaw set, he examined her. Her nipples strained against the black lace of her bra and the thin scrap of fabric between her legs was noticeably damp. They hadn't done much, but she’d liked it. He loved that his naughty librarian had a dark and dirty side to her. He was going to enjoy bringing it out and making both of their darkest and dirtiest desires come true, but there was one little matter that had to be taken care of first, before he could truly be comfortable in his Master persona.
"Limits and safeword?" he asked gruffly, raising a brow in question.
Emily's blue eyes shone as she looked up at him. "Bodily fluids, including blood, and electricity play."
He nodded. His were the same.
"Sex?" he asked.
Her pulse fluttered so hard; he saw it against the paleness of her throat. Her nipples tightened that much more; he saw that too.
"Not off the table,” she admitted. “If I'm not okay, that's what a safe word is for."
"That's right. And yours is?"
"Papaya."
