“Marcie.” He pushed her head to his chest, curving his hand over the side of her face to hold her there, shelter her. “We’ll deal with that later. Right now, just be easy. Easy, darlin’.”

A little sigh went out of her, a hiccup. “I love it when you sound Cajun.”

Her hands were folded in between them, so he tightened his grip, cocooning her. He wanted her to stop shaking, but that was going to take some doing. “Where’d you put your things? Purse, girly stuff?”

She straightened, holding on to him to steady herself, but determined to show him she could do it. When what little color she had drained out of her face, he anticipated the faint. She hadn’t had lunch, hadn’t hydrated herself at all, because her skin was too cool and dry, despite the fact she looked as if she’d perspired quite a bit. She really needed to work on that bad habit of locking her knees.

“Okay, here we go.” He’d lifted her, carried her to the reception couch. The mere pressure of the seat cushion on her ass was enough to keep her from full unconsciousness. She swayed inside his grip, her brown eyes seeking his face.

“I messed up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did. But not as bad as I did. Stay here just a second.” He made sure he was back fast, bringing her a bottle of water from his office fridge, and a pack of peanut butter crackers. “Okay, drink some of this. Slow, just sip it. There you go. Ease back on the couch if you can.”

It was difficult, her body too stiff, her ass too sore. She was starting to shiver. He was functional, brisk, sliding his hands under the skirt, along her thighs, locating the straps to the two phalluses he’d left inside her. Coiling an arm around her waist, he lifted her enough to work all of it free, then set it aside. She made a small sound as his fingers brushed her pussy, her upper thighs, the rim of her ass, a different kind of shudder going through her.

Her cheeks colored over it, but he wasn’t surprised. Given what he knew of her already, the pain and stress wouldn’t have completely overwhelmed the arousal caused by being under a Master’s command, his direction. Being as much of a Dom as she was a sub, he of course couldn’t stop his dumbass cock from hardening.

Shrugging out of his coat, he put it around her shoulders. Then he lifted her in his arms and took her spot on the couch. When he put her in his lap, he kept her abused ass in the open area between his splayed thighs, bracing her lower back and upper thighs against that vee so she made only nominal contact with the firm cushion—and his groin. Then he brought the water back to her mouth.

Cupping her hands over his, she met his eyes before her lashes lowered, suggesting that she’d felt his arousal against her hip, but she focused on drinking. For the next fifteen minutes, he didn’t let her speak, just worked on calming her down, getting crackers and fluid into her. At length, she let out a little sigh, rested her head against his chest. Her fingers were curled loosely in his open collar, because he’d pulled off his tie in the limo. Her French manicure was making teasing little scratches against his flesh as she continued to shake.

“Why did you say that? That you’d messed up?” she whispered.

“Figures you’d latch on to that.” He was relieved to feel her lips curve in a slight smile against him, but he tipped up her face, held her chin, made her see the serious reproof in his gaze.

“A hardcore submissive like you, an inexperienced one, tends to go to extremes. You have to be trained to understand a Master’s nature, to respond to it. You don’t know the difference between anticipatory service to a Master and destructive overcompensation. Part of being a Master is knowing how far to push a sub, uncovering what they really need. It’s never about causing them true, lasting physical harm. You were too green for me to leave you unsupervised like that. I knew better.

“Now, that said, there’s your side of things.” He gave her delicate jaw a firm squeeze. “A sub’s devotion is shown through obedience, not pushing past the edges of good sense. You have a responsibility to care for yourself. How can you serve a Master if he’s forever having to tend to your injuries?”

He was angry. Marcie knew his logic was sound, and more than that, she could tell he was angrier with himself than with her. It shamed her, that she’d caused that, but it also revealed a side of him she’d never seen before. It mattered to him, deeply, that she’d hurt herself. She wanted to tell him she understood what he was telling her, that she wouldn’t make the same error twice, but there was something reckless in her when it came to him. She wanted to give him everything. She wanted him to know her soul was his, every part of her. The more it had hurt, the more determined she’d become, until the agony and the yearning were the same thing.

He tightened his arms around her, letting out a sigh as if he could read her thoughts. “It was stupid of me to leave you alone. You’re too deep in your head on it. It’s irresistible, but it also means a Master really has to be on his toes with you, to make sure you don’t go overboard.”

No other Master would ever have to worry about that, because she didn’t feel that way about any other one. She wisely held that thought to herself. For now.

He told her they were leaving, but not where they were going. He didn’t let her take her laptop with her, making it clear she wasn’t going to be permitted to do any work tonight. Thank goodness she’d finished most of his task list, though it bugged her she hadn’t completed it all, as he’d demanded.

He had her step out of her shoes and picked them up, looping them over his wrist as they walked to the elevator. He kept his arm around her, holding her steady. They didn’t take his car, the small sports car whose bucket seat she was sure would have been agony to her. Instead, they took a limo from the limo pool. Fortunately, the driver stayed in the car, Ben holding the door for her. When she got in, she saw the privacy screen was raised.

As she tried to determine how not to sit on her ass, Ben curled his fingers around her upper arm and guided her down onto her stomach on the comfortably long seat. Fortunately, he sat next to her, so she could put her cheek on his thigh and slide one hand under his knee. He smelled good. Heated male, aftershave, soap, dry cleaning for his suit.

He stroked her back, playing with her bra strap through the thin turtleneck. That intimate touch made her hold her breath. It also stirred things up inside her, crazy as that was in her current condition. But doing what he’d ordered her to do, having that vibrator inside her, had kept arousal a big part of the equation. She could imagine going to her knees in this limo, wrapping her hands around him, putting her mouth on his cock.

Her fingers inched up his leg, doing a circle on his inner thigh. She’d give so much to serve him that way, feel him climax, know she’d given him pleasure. It’s irresistible, but it also means a Master really has to be on his toes with you… She wanted to work harder on the irresistible part.

“Hey.” A soft reproof as he laid his hand over hers. “Be still.”

“I don’t want to. I want to touch you.” This time she was merely telling him what was in her head, not sassing him. When she stopped, he stroked her hair, a reward for her obedience. She let that be enough, though her body was running hot and cold. It was like being in shock, floating and yet so wired, everything out of control. She couldn’t get her mind around it, but it was okay. He was her Master. He was in control.

At length, she realized they were outside the city. When they turned off a quiet rural road into a private driveway, she realized where they were. Jon’s house. It was a lot like his second home in Baton Rouge. His driveway was a quarter mile long, winding through a hushed pine forest skirted with thick foliage, so it was never unusual to see wildlife crossing a car’s path. Deer, possum, raccoons, armadillo. The occasional alligator or long, slithering snake.

While she loved visiting Jon’s, being here now alarmed her. Not as much as if Ben had brought her back to Cass’, but still. She wasn’t sure of his intent. Easing gingerly to her hip, she propped her elbow on his leg to peer through the windows. His face had a set expression, the solid planes shadowed by the night closing in outside and the dim light thrown by the limo’s interior. “Why are we here?”

“Didn’t I tell you to use sir? And do you have permission to ask me a question?”

“I don’t know. I can’t tell when you’re being…Ben and when you’re being a Master.” But that question had its own answer, and she knew it. In her mind, he was always a Master. She treated him as Ben when she was trying to direct things, control them. His sidelong glance told her he already knew that, but it was the first time she’d figured it out. So she wasn’t surprised that he didn’t answer, only waited on her. It was more difficult than she expected. She’d engineered so much of everything that had happened until now. She was afraid if she stopped fighting for what she wanted, let go of the reins, he wouldn’t pick them up. He’d just walk away and she’d lose ground.

“May I ask…why are we at Jon’s, sir?”

His lips pressed together. When he shifted, that heat in her lower belly kindled further. Whether or not he wanted it to happen, her subservience had pleased him. She could tell. “Rachel has nurse training in addition to her physical therapy certification. I want her to check you over, make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine. I—” She bit her lip as he shifted that steady stare to her. She nodded, laid her cheek back down on his leg.

“Yes sir.” But her fingers curled into balls, uncertain.

The porch light was turned on as they pulled up. Ben had probably told the limo driver to call ahead. She was hoping he’d let her walk, because she’d feel utterly foolish if he carried her. He did let her walk up the stairs, though he carried her to the deck steps since he wouldn’t let her put her shoes back on.

As she ascended, he was right behind her, hand on the small of her back, fingers grazing the upper rise of her ass until she reached the door. Fortunately, it was Rachel who met them there, her expression warm and welcoming. Though Jon was the most deceptively gentle of the K&A men, she wasn’t sure she could handle the intense scrutiny of two Doms right now.