Free In the Den by Sierra Cartwright Page B

Damien?” a house sub enquired.
    “No. Thank you, Mary.”
    She was a relatively new employee, having been hired to replace Brandy, whom Master Niles had stolen away and never returned. Even though Mary was tall, willowy, available and agreeable, the idea of taking care of his needs with anyone other than Catrina vanished. Truth was, even if she hadn’t shown up, he wouldn’t have beat another sub. No one but her would do for him.
    She watched him over the rim of her glass, tracking his every move.
    “May I join you?” he asked as he neared her table.
    “Please.”
    Though he’d seen her on numerous occasions over the years, the more he knew her, the more there was to uncover. Tonight, no pretty man knelt by her side. In fact, there wasn’t a leash in sight.
    As usual at the Den, her makeup was startling. Her eyes appeared enormous, more luminous, thanks to false lashes. Her red-colored lips were full and pouty.
    She’d left her hair loose, though a large clip held a chunk of it back from her face and showcased her stunning cheekbones.
    By any standard, her black dress was demure, but fabulous. The square-cut neckline covered her breasts, but revealed her collarbone and an alluring glimpse of her cleavage. Previously he hadn’t played with her nipples much, but now he itched to explore all of her.
    “Nice event,” she said as he sat.
    “Quite,” he agreed.
    “I heard last night was a little different.”
    “I looked on the dessert table when I was upstairs. There isn’t a single orange cupcake in sight.”
    “Orange?”
    “They were a complement to the neon pink ones, I’m told.”
    “Sounds like fun. I love big hair and hoop earrings. I’ll be here for the next eighties night.” She moved her straw through the ice cubes in her glass. Her filmy shirtsleeve fell back, and he noticed her white wristband.
    Gutted, he stared.
    Any hint of ease between them vanished. Her smile, and her hand, froze.
    To avoid confusion, when a guest checked in for the night, they were issued wristbands. Doms and Dommes wore red ones. Tonight, she wore white, which meant she was heterosexual and looking to scene.
    He took hold of her hand. He kept his voice low and well-modulated as he said, “You’re full of surprises.”
    “I decided to accept your challenge and try to submit,” she said, meeting his gaze.
    Damien rubbed his thumb pad against the flutter of her pulse.
    “To you,” she clarified.
    “Of course it would be to me. This is my domain.” No way would he stand by and watch her interact with anyone else.
    She sighed. “You know you’re arrogant, don’t you?”
    “Not usually, no.” Confident, convinced of what he wanted, determined to get it…yes. But she brought out intense reactions in him that he wasn’t sure he liked. “I’m not interested in a scene.” He wanted so much more.
    “I understand. That’s why it took me so long to reach a decision.”
    “What convinced you?”
    As if hypnotized, she stared at the small circles he made with his thumb.
    He stopped rubbing and captured her chin and tipped her head back slightly. “No hiding.”
    “Maybe you can help me learn to be a better Domme. Maybe the experience will leave me unchanged. But there’s only one way to know. And…”
    He waited.
    “I’m curious.” She shrugged. “I liked what happened at your house. And the fact I enjoyed it scared me, shook me up. Worse, it made me question everything I’ve assumed over the last few years. Part of me wants to pretend it never happened. But the truth is, I’m also intrigued. It took me a long time to reconcile the different thoughts and feelings. How can I be a strong, independent woman, but then enjoy being in your arms after you spank me? I’ve spent years depending on only myself. The bigger question to me is…do I even want to consider a change? I’ve never met a man who was worthy of trust.” She stared into the bottom of her glass. “And I like my life.”
    He waited, allowing