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Training Sasha (Club Zodiac Book 1) by Becca Jameson (24)

Chapter 23

Sasha blinked up into her Dom’s eyes.

He was her Dom. No doubt about it. Sure, he felt bad. His tail was currently between his legs. He was groveling. And well he should be. But that didn’t change the fact that in the end, he was her Dom.

If she had walked into his office and found him surly and demanding she strip and stand in front of the window, she would have done it. He’d already won her heart over Sunday night. He’d already paid a hefty price for treating her with the same disrespect he insisted she not give him. He recognized the double standard. She could have easily turned over that night, faced him, and accepted his apology.

But she’d also recognized his need to extend a longer olive branch, and she’d granted him that play, even though she would bet her life her brother had figuratively beaten the living hell out of Lincoln until he’d suffered enough.

Today was today. A new day.

She let her gaze roam down his body. Did he know how much it turned her on every time she saw him dressed like he was tonight? It was his usual work attire, nothing special. Professional by club standards. But seeing him in those tight black jeans with that black cotton T-shirt stretched across his chest always lit her on fire.

With his black hair, dark eyes, and dark skin, he turned heads everywhere he went. Right now his brow was furrowed.

Lincoln had concerns. They needed to put those fires out before they could move forward. She was confident she could separate herself from his role as a sadist. She seriously doubted watching him perform was going to bother her as much as he feared.

He was right about one thing, she needed to see him in action. Was he truly able to separate sexually from the masochists who came to him? Because watching him or even knowing he was doing a scene when she wasn’t around wasn’t likely to bother her, but if she thought he had sexual interests outside of her relationship with him, that would be a deal breaker.

Trust was crucial. They couldn’t move forward until she proved to both herself and Lincoln that his sadism wouldn’t affect their relationship. “I need you to keep your schedule tonight,” she told him.

He frowned. “Sasha, I don’t think

“I know. I know. You don’t think you’re in the right frame of mind. So, what do we need to do to get you in the right frame of mind? This is important.”

He nodded slowly and took a deep breath. “You really want to watch me work tonight?”

“Yes.”

He glanced at his watch. “We have another two hours before my first appointment.”

“Then I guess we better use our time wisely.”

He lifted his brows again in question. “You know this isn’t a deal breaker, baby. You don’t have to prove anything to me. You don’t ever have to prove anything to me. I realize that now. You’re perfect the way you are. In every respect. If you don’t like watching me, I won’t perform in front of you. If you don’t even like knowing I’m topping people, I’ll stop altogether. At some point in the middle of this new self-awareness of mine I realized you mean more to me than anything else, even sadism.”

Her chest seized. “I believe you. Now, I need you to believe it’s not a deal breaker for me either. I need to witness you doing what you do for myself too. It will help me understand the dynamic.”

He licked his lips. Nervous. So much so that he was willing to put it off just to enjoy one more day with her before she left him. She could see that in his eyes. He was leery.

She took a step closer and tipped her head back. “You’re worried I won’t be able to accept you for who you are. I get that. But you have to understand I have a far different concern you have not considered.”

He flinched. “What’s that?”

“Sex. You say sadism isn’t about sex for you, while frankly I can’t wrap my head around any aspect of BDSM not being about sex. It’s going to take me some time and education to grasp that.”

He nodded. “That’s because you’re a sexual submissive. For you everything in the lifestyle is about sex.” He gave a half smile. “Thank God. It’s what makes my cock so hard I can’t think around you.”

A flush rushed up her cheeks. How could he so thoroughly distract her in the middle of this important discussion? She shook her head to clear it. “Even if you don’t get off dominating other people, you can’t control whether or not they get aroused.”

He nodded. “That’s true. But does it matter? I disassociate from that aspect. Sometimes a submissive does get aroused, whether he or she intended to or not. I always make it clear I’m not interested in a sexual encounter. If they want to have sex with someone else after our scene, that’s great. It’s not going to happen with me.”

She tried to absorb everything he was saying. It was complicated.

He held out a finger. “In fact, let me present this from another angle. The entire reason you and I are in this predicament is because in my twisted head I thought I needed to find a masochist for a life partner in order to be fulfilled. I not only turned my back on you for that reason, but I turned my back on all women before you. Since I didn’t believe I could ever find a woman who could fulfill both my sadistic needs and my sexual needs, I decided I was destined to be alone. They don’t cross paths. I have mistakenly believed I would never be able to have a serious relationship with anyone because I couldn’t see how anyone would be able to accept my darker side as a separate entity.”

She was starting to understand how his mind worked. It was warped, but she was catching on. “And Carter and my brother slapped you around a bit about this issue until you saw it more rationally?”

“Yes.” He grinned. “They did more than that. I had several screws loose apparently. I’ve spent the last few days wrapping my head around the idea that anyone—especially you—could possibly get on board with my proposal.”

She cocked her head to one side, confused again. “Especially me?”

He tapped her nose. “Well, you’re the only woman I ever cared enough about to broach the subject. And, as I’ve said, I still have my doubts. I’ve never been this nervous. The level of trust and commitment it would take to make my world perfect is more than I’ve ever been willing to ask of anyone.”

She set her palms on his chest and leaned into him, needing the contact. His willingness to so openly discuss this issue demanded her respect. “I’m here. I’m offering to try.”

He set one of his hands on top of hers over his heart and squeezed. His voice was lower when he whispered. “And you have no idea what this means to me.”

She had more questions. “Explain why you could never forge a relationship with a masochist? You’ve met so many over the years. Why none of them?”

“I’ve tried with several women. I simply don’t get off when I’m topping someone. I can’t. I need to concentrate. I could seriously injure someone if I were dealing with a hard-on while I flogged them. So, when the scene ends, even if I’m currently romantically interested in the woman I just topped, we’re in different head spaces. She might be primed and ready to go. Maybe other men can drop the whip and get it on, but I can’t switch gears that fast. I need some transition time.”

Wow. He was serious about this. It had been a problem forever. Not to mention his explanation went a long way toward endearing her to him even further and eliminating any doubts she might have about trusting him with other women.

She constructed her next question in her mind. “What if orgasm is the goal of the person you’re with? Surely that happens a lot. You can’t stop them from getting aroused.”

“True. I’d say my bottom derives pleasure from pain often. I usually negotiate what their goals are ahead of time. If they want to come, that’s fine with me. It’s just not going to end with my dick inside them. Or my tongue for that matter.”

She cringed slightly.

He gripped her hand tighter. “This is new territory for me, baby. A totally new world. I promise you I would never do anything that made you uncomfortable. If you agree to be mine, we’ll negotiate the fuck out of every detail of this until you’re comfortable with everything I do with other submissives.” He leaned forward, his face inches from hers. “And let me remind you, this entire thing is negotiable. If you watch me perform and realize you can’t stand it, I’ll walk away.”

She swallowed her emotions. “I’m confident it won’t come to that. I trust you.”

“It’s not just trust I need from you. I need you to be comfortable with everything I do, or I won’t do it. Anything that makes you cringe is off the table. If I found out you withheld concerns, I would lose my shit. Then I would have trust issues with you. You have to be an open book when it comes to your reactions to my sadism, or you’re likely to find yourself on the receiving end, strapped to my table with a very sore ass.”

She sucked in a breath, gripping her pussy at his threat. She might not enjoy most of the aspects of sadomasochism, but the idea of him strapping her down and spanking her made her knees buckle. It was irrational since the only time he’d spanked her had been for punishment, and she hadn’t liked it. But, somehow the way his eyes were narrowed at her now implied something entirely different. Having his hand on her bare ass didn’t sound like a punishment at all at the moment.

He moaned, rolling his eyes. “I’ve created a monster.” As if he needed space for self-preservation, he set his hands on her shoulders and stepped back, putting a few feet between them.

They needed to get out of his office. She took another step back and glanced at the door. “How about if we go downstairs to the club together and you show me around? Start with a tour. Pretend I have no idea what the inside looks like.” She grinned. They both knew she was well-acquainted with the layout of the club.

He glanced down at her chest and then lower. “Okay, see, there’s just one problem.”

“What?”

“I’ve come to acknowledge that I have a possessive, jealous streak when it comes to you.”

No sweeter words had ever been spoken to her. But she also intended to play this hand to her advantage.

He continued, “Half of me has been distracted ever since you stepped into my office, worrying and wondering about who saw you in that nonexistent outfit between your apartment and my office.” He winced. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s sexy as hell. My cock jumped to attention immediately, but it’s… lacking material.”

Laughter bubbled out. “Seriously?” She glanced down. “I’m totally covered. Nothing important is showing.”

“Sasha…”

“Are you saying you don’t think I’m sexy? Are you embarrassed to show me off?” She was totally needling him.

He shot her a glare. “Of course not. You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and twice as fucking sexy in that dress thingy.”

He squeezed his eyes almost shut. His expression was comical. Not quite a wince. More like a grimace. Tinged with a nervous energy.

“See, like I said—and believe me, I’m new to this feeling—but, a possessive streak has raised its ugly head and taken over my body.”

She worked hard to keep a straight face while he kept talking, curious to see how many words it would take him to explain himself sufficiently.

“I mean, I know I’ve been going to fetish clubs for over ten years now, and I’m clear that people attend in every state of dress and undress, but… What I’m trying to say is that I don’t care how people dress. It totally doesn’t faze me. I’m desensitized to nudity or any public display of affection. But…” He took a deep breath.

She bit the inside of her cheek to continue to hold a straight face. Her only movement was to lift one eyebrow to encourage him to continue with his four-page thesis paper on why she needed to be completely covered in public. What else could she do? It was too comical for words.

He groaned, tipping his head back and forth in order to work out imaginary kinks. “I don’t want you to think I’m overly domineering or anything. It’s not like I intend to start telling you how to dress or whatever. It’s just that…”

And it kept getting thicker.

He lifted both hands, ran them through his hair, tousling it so that it fell in a sexy disarray across his forehead. “Fuck. Sasha, you can’t wear that outfit in my club,” he rushed to say, his words suddenly spewing out in rapid succession. “Every man would be leering at you, and I’d have to hurt a few people, and I really don’t want to do that. Not today. My blood pressure can’t take it. Could you put on a sweater or something?”

“A sweater.” She cocked her head to one side, fighting hard to keep from laughing outright.

“Yes. Something. Anything.” His voice rose. He waved a hand around in front of her, indicating whatever imaginary vision he had about her state of undress. “I’m fucking serious, baby. I don’t care what other people wear or what other Doms let their subs wear. I don’t even care what other subs I’ve worked with wear. But you’re different. I’m not interested in sharing you.”

“Different.” She tried hard to repeat the word as blandly as possible.

“Yes, different.” His voice rose higher. “Mine.” He grabbed her arms and hauled her against his body. He was heaving for oxygen, but he slowly calmed down and swallowed. His next words were gentler, controlled. “You’re mine, Sasha. I don’t want to share you.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?” she teased.

“Woman…” he warned.

She set her hands on his chest. “First of all, it’s super cute and kinda hot that you took ten minutes of stammering to tell me that you aren’t comfortable with other people looking at me, which I might point out is seriously hilarious. Second of all, my brother is part owner of your club if you’ll recall. I have no interest in him ever seeing any inch of my private parts. Gross. And third, I’m totally decent, so no, I’m not going to change. Not today. Get over yourself. I spent a lot of time picking out the perfect outfit to seduce you in, and I intend to wear it all night—unless you demand I take it off entirely at some point.”

He gulped.

Cute.

She continued, “Lucky for you, I don’t like to be naked in public, so this is a win-win for me. I was worried that being submissive to you was going to mean we went head-to-head on that topic soon. Obviously I don’t have to fight that battle. The extent of my public nudity happened last Friday night when Master Colin lifted my skirt two inches. Don’t ask me to do it. It makes me uncomfortable. Hard limit.”

He exhaled. “Thank God.”

“If you’re really bothered by this outfit, I won’t wear it out of the house again, but for tonight, let me enjoy one single evening in this rather conservative fetish wear. I feel sexy in it. Don’t make me feel dirty.”

His eyes widened. “Done.”

“That’s it? You’re going to drop it?”

“Yes. You’re right.” He lifted a finger between them. “But only tonight. I’ll buy you all the fetish wear you want, but after tonight, keep it in the bedroom.”

“You didn’t seem to mind having me totally naked in the living room, the kitchen, and even the backyard over the weekend.”

“The bedroom is figurative.” He grinned.

She rolled her eyes.

“And on that note, I officially declare this conversation closed. Put bossy, insolent Sasha away and trade her for demure, submissive Sasha for the next few hours, okay?”

At least he sort of asked. “Yes, Sir.”

“That includes eye rolling, cussing, and disrespect.”

“Yes, Sir.” And just like that, the tiny strip of floss that constituted her thong was wet.

* * *

Lincoln had his hand on Sasha’s back as he led her into the club. It was just opening when they got downstairs. Carter lifted a brow and smirked as they walked past him. Rowen was nowhere to be found. Probably for the best.

Sasha was shivering. She had one arm crossed under her chest, that hand grasping the elbow of her other straight arm. “You cold, baby?” he whispered into her ear.

“You wish,” she muttered in response.

He chuckled. “Nervous then.”

“A little.”

The club itself had once been a living space. It took up the second floor above a strip mall, and the layout included a great room—where they were standing now—and a hallway that contained what would have once been bedrooms that were now reserved by members for privacy.

The lighting was dim and perfect. The walls and flooring dark. Blackout curtains covered the windows. Lincoln loved the feel, and he glanced around now, taking in the various apparatus spread out around the main space. There were few people in the main room yet, but in a few hours, it would be crowded with members and guests.

He led her to a darker corner, backed her against the wall, and loomed over her, blocking them both from anyone who might glance their direction. “I don’t want you to be nervous. It’s just me. We’ll define this thing between us as we go along.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Sir.”

He shook his head. “It’s going to be so much fun training you.”

“You don’t think you’ve trained me enough? Sir.” Snarky and insolent.

His smile grew wide. “Sweetheart, we’re just getting started. And just so you know, there are plenty of private rooms in my club. No one will see your naked bottom if I take you into one of them to spank you into submission.” He lifted a brow.

She bit the corner of her bottom lip, eyes wider. “Yes, Sir.” And then she gave him exactly what he was hoping for. She fidgeted. She pressed her thighs together and squeezed her arm across her chest. She was aroused.

Thank God.

“I’m pretty good at taking cues from subs, baby. I have years of experience. And you’re an open book. So, don’t even try to hide anything from me. You will fail. Safeword?”

“Red, Sir.”

“You want to change it?”

“No, Sir. Red is fine, Sir.”

He inched closer, crowding her space until she had to back into the corner. He set both hands on the wall above her head, caging her. “You’re mine.” If he said it enough, maybe he could will it into truth. Just because Sasha thought his sadism was no big deal, until he proved that, there were no guarantees.

Until he performed for her while she watched, there were no guarantees.

Until he saw her face and held her in his arms after working with a masochist, there were no guarantees.

Her breathing came in sharp pants. “I’m yours, Sir.” God, he hoped she still believed that in a few hours.

“Trust me to take care of you.”

“I do, Sir.”

“I fucked up. It won’t happen again. You have my word.”

She nodded. “I know, Sir.”

He lowered one hand slowly until he cupped the side of her face, and then he angled it to the left and lowered his lips to hers. He moaned into her mouth as she eagerly opened for him.

The kiss was deep and powerful. It made his cock stir again. But he needed to put an end to it before he got carried away. If she wanted to watch him in action later, he needed to get in the right mind frame. Thinking about what he might do to Sasha’s sweet body later wouldn’t serve his scheduled subs well.

He reluctantly ended the kiss, nibbling a path to her ear before whispering into it, “Hot. Sweet. Innocent. Pure. Mine.”

She moaned.

He smiled. “She likes that.”

“She loves that, Sir.” Her hands went to his waist, grabbing on to his T-shirt and fisting it.

He loved that too. Keeping her slightly off-kilter was going to be fun.

He pulled back to meet her gaze. “You intend to test me all evening? I’m just asking so I can go ahead and reserve a room.”

“No, Sir.”

He lifted a brow. “You sure?”

She shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t mind if you got a room. It might be fun to try that other kind of spanking you told me about.”

His dick was not going to survive the night.

She must have thought he didn’t understand her meaning. “You know, the kind where the sub gets off on it. Not the kind where it hurts.”

He smiled slowly. “I know the kind. You ready for that?”

“Yes. I mean, I’d like to try but not with an audience.” More squirming. She was ready.

“I’ll reserve the room. But it’s up to you what it gets used for. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” Her face flushed. Beautiful.

“Come on. I’ll show you around a bit, and then I need to get ready. I’ll need a few minutes to meditate a bit, clear my head of the sexy vixen tempting me with her eye rolling, and concentrate on my job.”

“Okay, Sir.”

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