Part 8 (1/2)

It was nearing midnight, when Bethany headed down the dark hall to Deacon's office. As the manager of the bar, she rarely stayed until closing leaving that dubious ch.o.r.e to Deacon or his younger-then-him-by five-minutes twin, Steven. She kept her expression blank as she edged the door open. She didn't expect a repeat of the last time, but Deacon had been cooped up most the night with his brother, going over what had happened in the week they'd been gone.

She gave a brisk knock on the wooden frame, drawing her Master's attention. ”Hey, I'm getting ready to head out. Tim's got the bar under control, and Louie just came on to help deal with the closing crowd.”

Deacon, who had been conversing with Steven, turned to look at her. Seeing the two of them so close together, she was once again struck by the difference in the twins. While Deacon was dark, Steven was light. Where Deacon was broad, his younger brother was slim. But despite all of their outer physical differences, there was a strong determined will that both brothers shared. Along with a special twins' bond that being abandoned by their father had only made stronger.

Deacon gathered up the receipts in front of him. ”Just give me a minute, little one, and we'll go.”

Surprise, even shock, flowed through her. Deacon leave on Friday night before closing? That never happened before. He always stuck around to count the till and help Tim restock the bar. While the sub inside her melted at the idea of him wanting to make sure she got home, the independent businesswoman protested. Deacon was needed at Spurs and Chaps not playing escort. ”There's no need. I can see myself home, Deacon. I've been doing it for years. Stay and do your usual. I'll see you in the morning for our weekly management meeting.” She moved to leave.

”Stop right there.”

The cold bark of his voice clawed up her back to settle at the base of her neck. She would've s.h.i.+vered in apprehension if her body didn't recognize that tone, and the resulting painful pleasure that usually followed it. She froze with her hand on the doork.n.o.b, then glanced over her shoulder.

”What?” She barely managed to force the world past the sudden lump in her throat.

Next to Deacon, Steven shook his head. ”Why do they always do that? That's some magnetic pull you have there, brother.”

”Leave.”

If she hadn't been looking at Deacon, she'd have thought he was talking to her, but when Steven stood with a resigned sigh, a small spark of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. Nervously, she wet her lips when Steven brushed past her to exit the room. ”Sir?”

Deacon narrowed his gaze. ”So now the little submissive comes out.” He drummed his fingers on the scarred desk. ”I was wondering how long you were going to keep her buried under the guise of my manager.”

She flushed she'd thought she'd done a good job of resuming her role as Deacon's manager of hiding her new inner submissive. ”I have a bar to run, Sir. It can't be all games and play.”

His jaw clenched. Then he stood, loosening the wide leather belt at his waist. It made a low raspy sound as it cleared his belt loops. ”Come here.”

Her heart leapt. ”I...”

He gave her the look the same one he'd given her the last time she'd baulked at an order. ”Do we need a repeat of what happened the last time?”

His blatant reminder of her punishment over the kitchen table made her weak in the knees. She bit her lower lip, then shook her head. ”No, Sir. But you promised...”

”This isn't the bar, Bethany. It's my office. If I want to spank your little a.s.s for being high-handed, or f.u.c.k you blind across my desk, I will.” The gleam in his eye sent a spiraling wave of l.u.s.t through her. It was the same heated look he'd given her before f.u.c.king her until she couldn't walk. She glanced at the unlocked door.

”Pleasure or pain.” Deacon's words broke through her mental dilemma.

”Excuse me?” She s.h.i.+fted her weight.

”It's your choice. Either come over here willingly, so I can remind you who you belong to, or don't. But if I have to come after you, your a.s.s will be hot and I'll still f.u.c.k you.” His eyes glittered. ”Your choice.”

Even as her inner sub begged her to obey to give him what he wanted, the independent woman in her rebelled. She wet her lips, then shook her head. ”No. I don't think so.”

The pure determination and antic.i.p.ation in his gaze should've scared her, but instead it made her thighs wet with desire.

”We'll see about that.”

She gave a small squeal and darted for the door only to be caught up tight against him before her hand could touch its hard surface.

”Gotcha.” His breath teased her ear. ”Now, I think it's time to show you how much I'm not playing...”

She groaned, when his hands slid under her top to squeeze both her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, as he slowly backed them toward the desk. To where his belt waited. Her p.u.s.s.y gushed. Punishment or bondage no matter how he wielded the leather, she was about to be conquered and her inner sub couldn't wait.

Chapter Twelve.

Two Months Later ”That's perfect, little one. Take it for me. I've dreamt of doing this for weeks.”

The approval in Deacon's tone only increased Bethany's discomfort. She panted as she clung to the polished wood under her. She couldn't believe she was doing this. She should've never fallen for his 'I need to stop by the bar for something' act. True on a Sunday afternoon, the bar was closed, but she figured he'd forgotten his laptop again. But instead of sending her in to retrieve the missing computer, she found herself bent over her Sir's desk as he worked the slender a.n.a.l plug, ever so slowly an inch at a time into her a.s.s.

”Sir!” She gritted her teeth as the tapered tip breached her a.n.a.l ring for the first time. Since they'd returned from Puerto Rico, Deacon had slowly been opening her eyes to things she didn't think she'd have ever allowed a man to do until him.

”Quit tensing up. Let me in.” He stroked his hand down her back, but never letting up on the pressure against her a.n.u.s.

”I'm....trying....” She groaned as he eased more of the silicone into her tight rear end with the aid of a generous amount of slippery lubricant.

It seemed to take forever, but he finally seated the toy. ”Good girl.” His palm brushed over the curve of her bottom, before giving it a playful slap. Then he tugged her thong back into place and smoothed down her skirt. ”Give me five minutes, then we'll be on our way. I can't wait to show you the club.”

She gasped when the plug s.h.i.+fted as she straightened. Taking two steps away from the desk, she stopped. Her earlier unease about going to the Cattail Club was obscured by the thick presence of the toy lodged in her a.s.s. Standing, the plug felt huge...and it fricken' moved each time she did. She thought the d.a.m.ned Ben Wa b.a.l.l.s had been bad. She bit her lip as Deacon moved around behind her, putting away the lube he'd pulled from his desk drawer, and shutting off the lamp on the far side of the room. As he placed a hand on the small of her back, she knew she'd be lucky to make it to his SUV without coming. Even with the collar at her throat, she'd never felt so owned.

After all it wasn't every day that a girl lets her man shove a s.e.x toy up her a.s.s and then go out for an evening of s.e.xual depravity.

”One step at a time, sweetheart.” Deacon breathed his encouragement against her ear. ”I know you can do it.” He pulled the door open. ”Just walk that s.e.xy a.s.s out to the truck, so we can be on our way.”

She bit her lower lip. ”I don't know if I can keep from coming, Sir.”

He gave her a.s.s a gentle tap while urging her down the hall. ”You can. We've been working on your endurance. A short walk to the parking lot will be a breeze compared to the gauntlet you'll be enduring once we get to the club.”

Her p.u.s.s.y moistened at his reminder. Would he really strip her down to nothing but her thong and make her walk through the club with nothing more than a plug up her a.s.s and his collar around her neck? Her stomach rolled a bit at the thought, even as the rest of her body namely the traitorous flesh between her legs screamed for the experience. Every part of her wanted to please him. Which is why I agreed to this. But heaven help him if his uncle or someone else we known makes light of my submission. I'll kick his a.s.s Dom or not.

”Hmmm, something tells me that the wheels are turning in that pretty head of yours.” Deacon brought her to a halt at the entry of the bar to cup her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with both hands. She didn't even attempt to stop her soft sound of pleasure when he gave them a squeeze. d.a.m.n the man was good with his hands.

”So what it is? Are you having second doubts?” He pulled her back against his hard chest. ”I know you don't think you're ready for this, but I do.”

She sighed and relaxed against him, trusting him to hold her weight. ”You just want to show off your newest sub, Sir.”

He gave her another squeeze. ”d.a.m.n straight. I'm proud to call you mine, Bethany. Going to the club will only cement your place in my life. The other members won't look down at you in fact, the other Dominants will respect you even more.”

She turned her head to look up at him. In the shadows of the doorway, his gaze seemed shuttered, but she sought out his a.s.surance anyways. ”Because it takes a strong woman to submit?”

He brushed his lips over hers. ”Exactly. No matter what happens tonight, I want you to always remember that you are so tenacious and determined you can do anything.”

”I will.” She promised, but couldn't help but tease him. ”No matter how rough it gets.”