Chapter Ten
When morning came, Cassia wanted to pretend like she was still asleep. But of course, her infuriatingly too-observant no-strings-attached, just-friends Dom saw right through her.
“You ain’t fooling me, Sleeping Beauty,” he said, sounding way too freaking awake.
“Call me in an hour,” she said, shifting onto her other side.
Quinton’s big, warm body followed. “Nuh uh. I’ve been awake for thirty minutes. I require the attention of one incredibly beautiful, adventurous submissive. I’m needy like that.”
She chuckled at the self-deprecation in his tone, and nearly glowed from the compliment, too. “Is that right?”
“Yup. How ya like me now?” He kissed her ear.
And even though she very easily could’ve followed this banter where it was leading them, like into round two of the best sex any two human beings had ever had, Cassia decided to woman up before she let that too-perfect segue get away.
Turning in his arms, she met his gaze. “Actually…I like you a lot.”
His smile changed, as if he’d caught on to the shift in her own demeanor. “We need to talk, don’t we?” Quinton asked.
“I was hoping we might,” she said, a tendril of nervous anticipation stirring up butterflies in her belly. Had he wanted to talk, too?
“I know we said—” she began, just as he said, “I’ve been thinking—”
They chuckled, laying so close together that she had no way to hide from him. And she didn’t want to, either. Cassia was done hiding—from herself, from the dark, from the world. So she took a leap and let the words fly. “I know I said I didn’t want a relationship, and that we agreed to keep things no-strings attached, but I…” She shook her head. “I didn’t know everything our time together was going to make me feel.” She forced herself to look him in the eyes. “For you.”
He cupped her face in his big hand. “Fuck, baby. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Her chest filled with a funny pressure that threatened to consume her. “That I’m kinda feeling some strings? And I’m hoping you might be open to exploring where they lead? If that’s what you’re thinking, then yeah.” She nearly held her breath.
Or maybe it was just that he stole it. Because Quinton’s mouth came down on hers in a searing, soul-scorching, life-giving kiss. He moaned low in his throat as he rolled her under him, and then finally, slowly, he pulled his mouth away. “I want that, too. Christ, I’ve been feeling it for a little while now. Yesterday, I knew I wanted to talk to you about it, and then after last night… Shit, Cassia, I feel like we’re pretty fucking perfect together. So, yeah, I’m open. And I’m feeling those strings, too.”
“Oh, my God. Really?” she said, unable to hold back a smile. She had to blink away the happy tears that surprised her when they flooded her eyes. “I was scared I was going to ruin everything.”
“Never,” he said, brushing away the stray wetness with his thumbs. “But there’s one thing I need if we’re going to give this a go.”
“Of course,” she said, peering up into his dark eyes. God, he was gorgeous, the morning light falling over his sleep-mussed hair, a little growth of scruff on his face.
“I want us to be exclusive, Cassia.” Grasping her hand, he brought it to his mouth. “In case this helps make my intentions clear…” He licked her palm and straight up her middle finger.
Cass laughed, utterly tickled about how this conversation was going after everything she’d feared. “Did you just lick me to claim me?”
“Damn straight.”
“So do I get to lick you back?” she asked.
“Baby, I really wish you would.” He made a big show of rolling onto his back and pushing off the covers, baring himself to her gaze.
And damn, her bed had never looked better than it did at that very moment, with his ink, cut muscles, and hard cock laid out on display. Just for her.
She undressed and crawled toward him, then settled on her knees between his spread thighs. But before she got lost in his body, she had to know for sure. “What about the demonstration you have to do?”
Quinton folded his arm beneath his head and peered up at her. “That’s what upset you the other night, isn’t it? Why you left so fast?”
“I didn’t like the idea of you playing with someone else, but I know you have to do stuff like that for the club,” she said.
“I don’t do anything I don’t want to do, Cassia. The next demonstration I’ll do, if you’re open to it, will be with you.”
The sheer relief she felt would’ve taken her to her knees if she hadn’t already been there.
Releasing a shaky breath, Cass smiled. “Good. Then consider this my claiming.” Leaning down so that the dark hair on his thighs tickled her breasts, she tongued him from the base of his cock to the fat tip.
His body surged beneath her, his hips thrusting closer, his back arching. And it drove Cassia on to claim more of him. With a fist around his root, she sucked him deeply, taking his cock to the back of her throat again and again, just like she already knew he liked.
But as good as it was, it wasn’t enough. She wanted to claim more of him. All of him, if he’d let her. So Cass crawled up his body until her legs straddled his hips. Reaching into the nightstand, she retrieved a condom from a new box she’d bought when she started back at Blasphemy. Not that she’d ever imagined all this. Cassia held the little square package up.
He laced his hands behind his head, the picture of relaxation. Except for the hard cock jutting up between them, of course. “Whatever you want, Cassia, you are welcome to have,” he said in a low tight voice.
Holding his gaze, she rolled on the latex, and then, bracing a hand against his hard chest, she centered herself over his cock and lowered herself until she’d taken every thick inch. “This is claiming you, too.”
His hands flew to her hips, gripping and tugging as she rode him. The façade of relaxation quickly melted away, unmasking Quinton’s commanding dominance. “Fuck, Cass. Ride me. Use me. Take everything I’ve got.”
She gave herself over to the pursuit of pleasure, grinding, fucking, faster, harder. Long, pleasure-drenched minutes passed where they spoke only with their bodies, the sounds of their movements filling the room. Her skin slapping against his, the mattress shifting beneath them, their labored breaths and his throaty groans. “Quinton, oh God.”
“Want you to come on me, Cass. I want you to come on me now.” His fingers dug into her hips, a silent, stinging command.
It was exactly what she needed. Just three more aggressive strokes and she was coming, crying out, collapsing against his chest as the sensations wrung her out and left her raw.
And then she was on her back, all that dominance pinning her down. He drew her wrists above her head and pressed them into the mattress, and then Quinton was riding her, slow and deep and relentless.
“Feel like I’ve been looking for you, Cassia. For so damn long. And now that I’ve finally found you, I don’t want to let you go.”
That might’ve been the moment she fell in love with Quinton Ross. “Good. Don’t. Not ever.”
He dropped his head against hers, and his breaths rasped across her lips. Eyes open. Watching. Looking. Even with everything they’d already done, it was one of the most intimate moments of her life.
“Come in me, please,” she whispered. “I want to feel it.”
Immediately, his hips hammered harder, and then his eyes clenched shut as the orgasm rocked through him. “Aw, God, Cass,” he growled, his cock jerking inside her. If nothing else ever worked to help her tolerate the darkness, the memory of how his gorgeous face looked in that moment, shattered by the pleasure he’d found in her, just might’ve done the trick. Because, damn.
When his body eased, he released her hands, and she immediately brought them around his big shoulders. “Don’t go yet. I like the way you feel on top of me.”
On an appreciative moan, he settled his face against the side of her neck and let her have his weight. “Keep saying things like that and we’ll never get out of this bed.”
Cassia chuckled. “That wouldn’t be so bad.”
“No, it would not,” Quinton said in a low rumble.
It was after eleven when they awakened again, and their growling stomachs made food a dire necessity. The night before, she hadn’t known what to expect when she’d invited Quinton to stay, but the day turned out to be perfect. They followed up the mind-blowing declarations and sex with an amazing lunch at Quinton’s favorite diner, over which they discussed more about their relationship. Namely, they agreed that neither was interested in a twenty-four/seven arrangement. They would follow D/s protocol when at Blasphemy, other clubs, or play parties, and during all scenes. And, finally, that Quinton could initiate a scene outside of Blasphemy with her consent. With each agreement, Cassia felt nearly giddy with the realization that this was really happening between them.
That there was really, truly a them.
And even though she hadn’t expected that, or even thought she’d wanted it, back at the start of all this, it felt good. Right. Like she was finally all the way out of that cave and living again.
After lunch, they played tourists, browsing the Inner Harbor and the funky boutiques in Fells Point. As darkness fell, they enjoyed a fantastic dinner in Little Italy, only to come full circle when they fell into her bed again that night and explored one another’s bodies until neither of them could stay awake for one more minute.
It was the second night she’d slept in the dark.
On Monday morning, it was hard to say good-bye. They stood kissing for long minutes by her door, and she didn’t want to let him go. But at least he didn’t seem eager to leave, either.
“I’m tending bar every night but Tuesday and Thursday this week,” Quinton said, his arms around her waist, “but I’ll save you a seat at the bar in case you ever find yourself wanting to drop in and keep me company.” He waggled his brows, and it made her laugh.
“Ooh, will my reserved seat have, like, a little black velvet rope across it?” she asked.
“Is that more likely to make you want to come visit me?”
Chuckling, she shrugged. “Well, it couldn’t hurt.”
“I’ll see what I can do about some rope for you then, little one.” He arched a brow that told her he had more in mind for that rope than just reserving a chair.
Annnd now she really didn’t want him to go. “I’ll keep the invitation in mind, then.”
Shaking his head, he kissed her. “So, scenes on Tuesday and Thursday nights sound good to you?”
With him? Always. And even better was the knowledge that they weren’t just about those scenes, or about her phobia, or about the sex. Not anymore. “Sounds amazing. I’ll see you tomorrow night at the club then?”
He tilted his head. “Feels like forever, doesn’t it?”
Man, she adored him for being the one to say it. “Kinda.”
“I know, but I close tonight. Depending on how busy it is, the earliest I’d probably get out of there is two A.M. With how early you have to get up for work, it doesn’t make any sense for me to come over.”
Begrudgingly, she nodded. “Okay, well, text me when you have a minute and let me know how your day is going.”
“You, too.” Quinton gave her another long, deep kiss. The kind that was a promise of so much more. “Have a good day, baby.”
She was still smiling as he jogged down the steps and out the front door.
What she wanted to do was curl into sheets that still smelled of him and them and sleep the day away but, alas, duty called. She grabbed a quick shower and threw on work clothes, and then she was out the door herself.
Still, it was the best Monday morning she’d had in years. Cassia felt happy and hopeful, like being with Quinton had plugged her back into the rest of the world after a long, lonely time away.
And those feelings meant so much to her. They meant everything. And they were all because of Quinton.
* * *
Tuesday night had taken about fifty-two years to arrive. At least, that’s how Quinton felt as he sat with a couple of the other Masters at a grouping of couches near the bar waiting for Cassia to arrive.
“You doing all right tonight, Quinton?” Master Jonathan asked.
“What?” he asked distractedly, his gaze pinging between his friends and the locker room door, his knee bouncing in anticipation. “Oh, yeah, great.”
“Dude,” Master Cruz said. “What is your deal? You are wound tight as shit.”
Quinton chuffed out a laugh. Sometimes, being friends with a bunch of Dominants could be a pain in the ass. The fuckers were too damned observant and good at reading people. Jonathan and Cruz were long-time best friends who’d served in the Navy together, and they often shared women in menage scenes the submissives here raved about, from what Quinton had heard. It was hard to get anything by these two. What one didn’t pick up, the other always did.
“I’m good,” he finally said. “Just waiting for Cassia to get here.”
“Cassia? That another new sub?” Cruz asked, raking a hand through his short, dark hair. “Haven’t heard that name before.”
A flash of possessiveness swept through Quinton. Which just proved that Cruz was right—he was wound a little tight. But apparently that’s what happened to him the first time he was going public with an exclusive relationship. “She used to belong to the club a few years back, and she’s been coming again the past few weeks.” He eyed Cruz, and then his blond-haired friend, too. “I’m seeing her.”
“No shit?” Cruz said, an incredulous expression on his face.
Jonathan’s face split into an easy smile. “For real? Good for you, Q.”
Making that admission got easier the next time, when Griffin and Kenna joined them a few minutes later. Being a former Marine meant that Kenna traded regular barbs with Jonathan and Cruz over their naval service, which allowed Griffin to grill him about Cassia.
“Finally settling down with someone,” Griffin said, the smug smile on his face making it clear he was busting his chops. Just a little.
Not that Quinton really minded. “It’s all new, but it looks that way.”
“Good,” Griffin said. “About damn time, Q. Personally, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Hope it works out for you two. Life’s too fucking short to live it alone.”
He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but Quinton agreed. Now that he was walking down this path, he didn’t want to have to turn back. Not when he’d never been convinced he’d find someone who matched all his needs and interests as well as Cassia did.
Just then, he saw her across the club. She wore a black sheath dress that plunged low in the front and had a flowing, uneven short skirt. As always, she was sexy and beautiful, but it was the smile that lit up her face when she finally noticed him that was the real punch to the gut. Man, that one look took his breath away.
Quinton rose from his seat as Cassia approached. When she finally reached him, she bowed her head. “Good evening, Master Quinton.”
He lifted her chin with his fingers. “Good evening, Cass. You look great.”
“Thank you, Sir,” she said, gifting him with a pretty smile.
And even though he could tell she was glad to see him, he sensed some nerves from her, too. It brought out his need to take care of her. So despite being eager for the scene he’d planned, they could take their time. “Sit with me,” he said, sinking back down into the couch.
“Would it please you for me to sit next to you on the floor or the couch, Sir?” she asked.
Just the question had his cock stirring in his jeans. Possessing a sub of his own took the experience of being a Dom to a whole new level. “At my knee, little one.”
Gracefully, she lowered herself into a kneeling position on the floor, her warmth pressed against his calf, her eyes on him. Jesus, her submission was beautiful to him. And the fact that the other men were looking on with approval—and interest—heightened the whole experience and made him start to realize how much he’d been missing.
But Quinton kept his attention on her. “Did you have a good day?”
She rested her chin on his knee. “Yes, Sir. My team finished a draft of a big water quality report, two days ahead of schedule. So it was a very good day.”
He stroked her hair, pride flooding through him. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Her smile faded a little. “May I tell you something, Master Quinton?”
The seriousness of her tone had him sitting forward, getting closer to her. “Of course. Are you all right?”
“Yes. I just feel like I should tell you. I tried to sleep with the lamp off again last night, but I couldn’t do it. Not without you there.”
He stroked his knuckles against her cheek, her admission pleasing him because he could tell it hadn’t been easy for her to make. “Thank you for telling me, Cassia. One day at a time, you know? And you’re going to have good days and bad days, too. But you’ve already come a long way.”
“I know, Sir.” She brushed her cheek against his thigh, as if touching him comforted her. And damn if that wasn’t a heady thought.
“Next time something like that happens, please text or call me. Understand?” he asked, regretting their very different work schedules. “Even if we can’t be together in the moment, I still want to be there for you.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He nodded, enjoying that their conversation seemed to be relaxing her. “Good. And little one?”
“Sir?”
“You may call me Master alone,” he said, eager to hear her claim him that way, too. The way a submissive referred to the Dominant who owned her.
A gorgeous pink bloomed across her cheeks, and a satisfied smile shaped her lips. “Yes, Master.”
Raw masculine need seared his blood to hear her say it, and he had to shift in his seat to accommodate his growing hard-on. Her gaze tracked his movements, settling on the bulge filling out the front of his jeans. Staring, she licked her lips.
“Cassia,” he said in warning.
“Sorry, Master,” she said, though her eyes belied the words. He arched a brow, a silent promise to remember this later.
For a few moments, the other Doms pulled Quinton into a conversation about some renovations they’d been considering for Blasphemy. The church that formed the main part of their structure had been built in the 1910s and in a state of some ruin when they’d first acquired it, so it pretty much always needed something. While he spoke, he enjoyed Cassia’s quiet, attentive presence at his side. He reveled in it, in fact.
Her hand settled on his thigh. And that was the first time he noticed it—her wrist cuff had changed. Of course it had. He’d made the arrangements for it himself. But in the excitement of seeing her and being with her in public, he’d momentarily forgotten. Gone was the white unattached submissive cuff with its colorful ribbons indicating her interests and limits, and in its place was the dark red cuff of an owned submissive.
Quinton’s submissive.
He’d never before put that cuff on someone’s arm.
And it made him suddenly eager to get Cassia alone. He threaded his fingers between hers, holding her hand on his thigh so he could see that cuff. When he finished speaking to the other Doms, he pulled her fingers to his mouth and pressed a kiss to them. “It’s time to play, Cassia. Are you ready?”
The banked heat in her eyes suddenly flared. “Very, Sir.”
“Good. Then rise.” Once again, she moved with grace.
And he just watched. When she was standing before him, he smoothed his fingertips up her thighs and under her short skirt. His fingers encountered the thin straps of a thong.
“From now on, no more panties when we’re at the club,” he said, peering up at her.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Take them off.” He held out his hand.
She didn’t hesitate for even a second. Despite the audience they had, Cassia reached under her skirt, bent at the waist as she removed and stepped out of them, and placed the scrap of black in his hand.
Her obedience cut the last strings of his restraint. Tucking the panties in his pocket, he rose, well aware of the attention of the other men, but paying it absolutely no mind. As was only right. Someday, Cass would be ready for a public demonstration. Given her reaction to what they’d done on the dance floor and behind that rest stop, Quinton suspected she’d even enjoy being watched by a crowd. But not tonight. Tonight, she was his and his alone.
“The minute we walk through the door of the sense-dep room, I want you naked and kneeling,” Quinton said, peering up at her. She nodded. “Good. Let’s go.”