Make Me, Sir

caught her with a powerful grip before she did a face-plant. Chuckling, he wrapped a blanket around her and sat her in a chair to one side while he cleaned the room.

He pulled on his suit jacket and stood in front of her for a second, then shook his head and scooped her into his arms.

“Jesus, wait, you can’t carry me,” she gasped. What if lifting her strained his back? What if he dropped her?

He only laughed. Hell, he wasn’t even watching where he walked.

She struggled to get out of the confining blanket, and he said in a firm voice, “Lie still, li’l subbie, or you’ll have a different type of lesson.”

Oh, that definitely sounded like a threat. She stilled. As he carried her out of the hallway and into the club, she stared at the distant floor, cringed, and looked up at his face instead. He had a stern jawline. His white shirt was opened a couple of buttons, displaying his corded neck. Against her shoulder, his rock-hard bicep bunched, yet he didn’t act as if he carried anything heavier than a…a poodle or something.

She tried to relax, unsure if she liked the sensation of being cared for-whether she wanted to be or not.

At a small sitting area hidden from the main room by a row of plants, he settled into an oversize leather chair. She glanced around. Completely private…she wouldn’t have to perform right now.

He tipped her against his chest, settling her head into the hollow of his shoulder. “There we go,” he murmured. “Are you comfortable, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered. He was being so nice. Unexpected and unwelcome tears prickled her eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

He pushed her hair back behind her ear, then put a finger under her chin, lifting her face. “What do you mean by ‘this’? Holding you?”

“Yes. And…and getting me off when you didn’t…and shaving me…and-”

“You are very inexperienced in true dom-sub relationships, aren’t you?” With her head against him, she could hear the laugh rumbling in his chest. “Many reasons, sugar. First, I’m holding you now because you needed to be held.” He kissed her lips softly. “As your trainer and dom, it’s my job to see that you get what you need.”

“But I wanted down.”

His mouth turned up in a faint smile. “What you need, sugar, not what you want.”

Why did that send a tremor through her yet make her snuggle closer? Why did an iron-hard arm behind her back feel like safety?

But as her parents complained, a more argumentative person than Gabrielle had never lived. “I didn’t need to get off.” Hadn’t even thought about it.

“You need to learn that pleasure as well as pain comes from your dom’s hands.” His eyes met her, level and confident. “And you need to know, right down to the bone, that I have access to every part of your body.”

He’d shaved her, such an intimate task, and touched her, controlled her, forced an orgasm from her. He’d put his finger into her bottom and made her come again. Even now, his arms held her so firmly that she realized she remained under his control.

Her whole body started to shake as if she’d been sitting in the snow, and her breath thickened, forcing her to work for air. This wasn’t what she’d signed on for. He kept taking…more, like with a Monopoly game, seeing her hotels and land disappear piece by piece until the banker owned her. I don’t want him to own me.

I don’t…

She tried to get up. His arms caged her.

He rubbed his chin on the top of her head, enjoying the light feminine scent. He’d discovered the lingering fragrance in the crease of her hip and in the hollow of her neck. Her lotion matched her shampoo. Her clothing today was coordinated, and yesterday her toenails had been the same blue as her hair. She liked pushing against rules, but in her own life, she liked…consistency? Order?

So maybe her need to rebel wasn’t to reject rules entirely, but just those imposed by another.

Her reaction to his control-the way she trembled now-worried him. So new to domination. She shouldn’t be a trainee. What the hell are you doing, Z? Her fetish club visits had probably given her a few thrills. A sub’s first time under command, no matter how lightweight, could be a revelation for her. But she had no experience with surrendering not only her body but her emotions as well.

Is that why she kept defying everyone? She wanted to submit, yet it frightened her? No. Maybe. He frowned. Sometimes she appeared uncomfortable with her own behavior, as if she didn’t want to disobey. Other times her sassiness seemed true to her personality.

And right about the time he wanted to write her off, she’d respond so sweetly she’d rouse every dominant instinct in him.

He tightened his arms around her for both control and comfort and simply held her. Because that’s what she needed now-and so did he. The memory of spanking her didn’t sit well with him.

A man didn’t hurt a woman, not where he came from. In BDSM, he’d learned many submissives loved being given pain to heighten their pleasure. It had taken him longer to understand that pain dispensed for punishment could often fill a submissive’s emotional needs.

Other aspects of BDSM had proven easier to accept. Domination. Bondage… He definitely enjoyed bondage, watching a little sub squirm, then give him…everything.

How long before Gabrielle reached that point?

Probably a while. She was quite the piece of work.

At the sound of soft footsteps, he looked up to see Celine mosey past the sitting area. Although he’d dated the lovely blonde a few times and occasionally topped her here, he hadn’t called her in a month or so. Not since he’d realized his income and his status in the club interested her more than his personality.

She glanced over, pretended surprise at seeing him, and came to kneel at his feet. “Can I get you a drink, Master?”

Dammit, her use of master grated on him. The title, used without his name, implied he was her master, a relationship encompassing far more than a few scenes.

Gabrielle stirred. She stared at Celine, then squirmed, trying to rise.

“Stop, Gabrielle,” Marcus said. He frowned at Celine and jerked his head in a way that left no chance for her to misunderstand. An experienced sub, she knew better than to interrupt obvious aftercare.

Pouting, she rose and moved away.

Gabrielle had stilled, but her uncomfortable expression said the quiet moment had passed. And it was indeed time for him to return to check on the other trainees. He ignored his reluctance to let her go and set her on her feet. Her balance stayed good. Her eyes were clear and alert, although her tear-streaked mascara tugged at his heart.

But she was back to normal. He had no excuse to sit and hold her longer, no matter how much he’d enjoyed it. How content he’d been.

She started to adjust her skirt from where he’d tucked it under the waistband.

“Leave it as it is, Gabrielle. People should get a chance to admire my handiwork.” When she glared, he smothered his laugh. Definitely back to normal. “Follow one step behind me and speak only when addressed. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Chapter Six

As Gabi followed Marcus around the room like a pet, she tried to summon up her bratty sub, but it felt as if he had an invisible leash hooked deep within her. And each time he gave her an order, instead of getting angry, she melted inside.

He wandered through the room, checking on his other trainees, stopping to chat with members in his quiet drawl. He liked people, she could see, and got along well with everyone. A charmer, always knowing the right words to use. Like her father.