Lean on Me
Page 4
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He ran a warm hand down her back. “You have a beautiful body, Andrea. As a trainee, you will be expected to strip on command, quickly and without the attitude. Is that clear?”
“Yes, S-Señor.”
“Señor?” He chuckled low and deep. “Well, that's a nice alternative to 'Sir.' You may use that if you wish.” He stroked down her bottom and her thighs. His touch might have actually comforted her…if she had more clothing on, and if he hadn't threatened her with a paddle.
“Why are you being punished?”
Her first answer included a nasty name for him, and she bit it back. Look, Master Cullen, I can be taught. “Because I was rude.”
“Very good.” He patted her bottom. “Count for me now. Since I don't encourage subs to lie, I won't expect a thank you afterward.” A second later, the paddle slapped against her bottom.
“One.” It stung but not too badly.
Smack. “Two.”
Smack. “Three.”
The stinging turned to hard burning. Dios, it hurt.
Smack. “Four.”
Smack. “Five.” With the last one, her bottom felt like he'd poured gasoline on it and set her skin on fire. She felt tears pool in her eyes and blinked furiously, hating him with all her heart. Madre de Dios, could she really do this? Was this what being a trainee would be like?
His hands gripped her waist, and he helped her to her feet. Breathing fast and hard, she dropped her gaze so he wouldn't see the anger.
He chuckled. “You're a stubborn little thing, aren't you?” Before she could back up, he pulled her into his arms.
“Hey!” She tried to shove him away.
He snapped, “Be still.”
She stopped, standing stiff within his embrace.
Huffing a laugh, he set his back to the couch, pulling her against him. She realized her nose came only to the top of his shoulder. Another shock.
“Relax, little sub,” he murmured. “Here's another lesson that apparently no one taught you—after discipline, you get cuddled.”
Despite her nakedness, he didn't take advantage but simply held her. His warm hand stroked slowly up and down her back.
As her muscles eased, she started to tremble. Undoubtedly he could feel it, but he didn't say anything. He just pressed her head into the hollow of his shoulder. One arm kept her against him, firmly enough she couldn't get away but not enough to disquiet her. The smooth vest under her cheek felt soft but couldn't mask the rock-hard muscles beneath. He wore no cloying aftershave, and his scent of leather, soap, and man smelled just right.
His chest rose and fell slowly, and he seemed capable of standing with her in his arms all evening.
Her anger faded along with the shaking. She had definitely disrespected him, after all. She knew the rules. And he hadn't punished her cruelly. Just five swats, and with all his muscles, he could have hurt her badly. He hadn't. She sighed and leaned fully against him, somewhat bewildered at the unfamiliar sensation of someone bigger and stronger offering her comfort.
“There we go,” he murmured. “All better.”
Just as she started to enjoy being held, the door at the end of the room creaked open and footsteps thudded on the wooden floor.
“Back to business,” Master Cullen said and released her.
Dios, someone had come in. Her hands flew up to cover her breasts.
With a snort of laughter, Master Cullen gripped her fingers, his knuckles brushing her breasts in the process. “Trainee, this is my body to bare or cover.” His hard lips curved. “But you may put on your dress now if you want.”
Oh, yes, she wanted. She darted over to the bar, snatched the garment up, and turned her back to the door, which left her facing Master Cullen, but at least he'd already seen everything.
His flashing grin startled her, but then he ruined it by saying, “That modesty is something we'll work on also.”
Oh, mierda. She hurriedly stepped into the dress. Glancing down, she realized the hem stopped barely below her butt and the bust pushed her breasts up to an immodest level. Rather sexy. But the rest… Two lace-up panels the width of a hand ran all the way down the dress with only a too-small vinyl panel in the middle to cover her crotch. Hopefully. If she didn't move too much.
Having taken a seat on a bar stool, Master Cullen took her hand and pulled her between his outstretched legs. “I'll lace you up.”
With a disquieting competence, he tightened the laces on each side until the dress fit more snugly than even her skin. Finished, he turned her from side-to-side like a doll to admire his work. Apparently she looked all right, for he grinned. As the lines beside his eyes crinkled and his cheek creased, her whole body felt like it had risen onto tiptoes, although she hadn't moved at all.
She took a step back and concentrated on regaining her breath. Madre de Dios, the man had an unholy effect on her.
His eyes narrowed, but whoever had come in walked up to the bar, breaking Master Cullen's focus on her.
The new person looked innocuous enough in a black silk shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black tailored slacks, but she hadn't survived the slums without the ability able to recognize a man who could be lethal.
She edged back a little and eyed the two men. Master Cullen looked just as deadly, in fact, but the smooth one would probably kill silently, whereas the trainer wouldn't probably enjoy making a mess.
“Master Cullen,” the man said as his dark gray eyes assessed Andrea. “Is this our new trainee?”
“This is Andrea,” Master Cullen said. “Andrea, Master Z owns the club.”
The man's black hair gleamed silver at the temples, so he was perhaps a few years older than Cullen. A faint smile touched his lips as he held out his hand.
She gave him hers.
Rather than shaking her hand, he curled his warm fingers around her cold ones. He regarded her a minute without speaking, then glanced at Cullen. “An interesting challenge for you, I'd say.” The gray eyes switched back to her, the impact like a punch to her chest. “Andrea, I'll speak with you tomorrow if you return.” His lips quirked. “Good luck to you.”
Good luck?
Chapter Three
Cullen rolled his shoulders. Almost midnight. At least Fridays were slower than Saturdays, probably because Z had only recently added Friday to the Shadowlands' BDSM schedule. Weariness pulled at him and slowed his movements, making him irritable. And unobservant. That new trainee had something going on with her, more than appeared on the surface, and he hadn't pursued it.
Part of him still wanted her to quit, but she'd taken everything he'd done and had worked hard tonight without complaint. And so, he had a Dom's duty to her.
The crowd around the bar had decreased, leaving only three Shadowlands Masters discussing the various scenes and a few others unwinding from their play. Wearing a black motorcycle outfit, Cat stalked up, trailed by her curvy sub. Cullen slid a Guinness down to the Domme and followed it with bottled water for her sub, whose red hair was matted with sweat. Cat nodded her thanks and waited until her sub drank before sipping her own beer.
Cullen glanced around and checked that he'd tended to everyone. Good enough. He needed to give some time to his other duty now. Pulling up Andrea's limit list in his memory, he considered his choices. A couple of the milder ones might do.
After lining up the remainder of Andrea's order on the bartop, he interrupted the Masters. “Raoul, your turn at the bar. I have a new trainee to harass.”
The swarthy Dom grinned. “The Amazon? She's a beauty.”
“She is, isn't she?” Cullen glanced across the room where Andrea handed out the first half of her drink order to a group of younger Doms and their subs. Finished playing, they'd kicked back to enjoy their second drink of the evening…and the scenery.
Definitely worth enjoying, Cullen thought. The dress he'd chosen fit her gorgeous body like a second skin. Of course, if her brain worked in the same way as his sisters, she probably considered herself overweight and hated every jiggle. But it happened that a soft, jiggling ass turned him on, and those lush breasts looked just the right size to fill his big hands.
She was definitely a large woman, another point in her favor. With her, he wouldn't have to bend like a pretzel to find her lips. He smiled. In an embrace, his cock would press against the softest part of her stomach. Nice.
But his personal plans didn't include getting involved. Nor was it appropriate for a trainer. The trainees came here to experience the various aspects of BDSM and submission but also to meet potential Doms. He wouldn't do them any favors by letting them attach to him. So although some intimacy went with being master over them, he set firm limits on the amount.
He watched as one of the Doms ran a hand down Andrea's thigh. She stiffened, frowned, and then pulled her lips into a smile. Cullen grinned. That looked like a good place to start. Under the bar, he located a couple of pieces of chain, one short, one long.
When he reached the Doms, he nodded and turned his attention to Andrea.
She smiled at him, then looked uncertain. “Master Cullen? Did I—” She obviously smothered the rest: “…do something wrong?”
Taking the tray from her, he set it on the coffee table and answered what she hadn't asked. “I've been watching you tonight, Andrea. You're doing a wonderful job.”
Her eyes lit. He rubbed his knuckles over her soft cheek. A sub's need to please; how could a Dom resist? “Now I'm going to make your job harder and give the club members some enjoyment.”
“Yes, S-Señor.”
“Señor?” He chuckled low and deep. “Well, that's a nice alternative to 'Sir.' You may use that if you wish.” He stroked down her bottom and her thighs. His touch might have actually comforted her…if she had more clothing on, and if he hadn't threatened her with a paddle.
“Why are you being punished?”
Her first answer included a nasty name for him, and she bit it back. Look, Master Cullen, I can be taught. “Because I was rude.”
“Very good.” He patted her bottom. “Count for me now. Since I don't encourage subs to lie, I won't expect a thank you afterward.” A second later, the paddle slapped against her bottom.
“One.” It stung but not too badly.
Smack. “Two.”
Smack. “Three.”
The stinging turned to hard burning. Dios, it hurt.
Smack. “Four.”
Smack. “Five.” With the last one, her bottom felt like he'd poured gasoline on it and set her skin on fire. She felt tears pool in her eyes and blinked furiously, hating him with all her heart. Madre de Dios, could she really do this? Was this what being a trainee would be like?
His hands gripped her waist, and he helped her to her feet. Breathing fast and hard, she dropped her gaze so he wouldn't see the anger.
He chuckled. “You're a stubborn little thing, aren't you?” Before she could back up, he pulled her into his arms.
“Hey!” She tried to shove him away.
He snapped, “Be still.”
She stopped, standing stiff within his embrace.
Huffing a laugh, he set his back to the couch, pulling her against him. She realized her nose came only to the top of his shoulder. Another shock.
“Relax, little sub,” he murmured. “Here's another lesson that apparently no one taught you—after discipline, you get cuddled.”
Despite her nakedness, he didn't take advantage but simply held her. His warm hand stroked slowly up and down her back.
As her muscles eased, she started to tremble. Undoubtedly he could feel it, but he didn't say anything. He just pressed her head into the hollow of his shoulder. One arm kept her against him, firmly enough she couldn't get away but not enough to disquiet her. The smooth vest under her cheek felt soft but couldn't mask the rock-hard muscles beneath. He wore no cloying aftershave, and his scent of leather, soap, and man smelled just right.
His chest rose and fell slowly, and he seemed capable of standing with her in his arms all evening.
Her anger faded along with the shaking. She had definitely disrespected him, after all. She knew the rules. And he hadn't punished her cruelly. Just five swats, and with all his muscles, he could have hurt her badly. He hadn't. She sighed and leaned fully against him, somewhat bewildered at the unfamiliar sensation of someone bigger and stronger offering her comfort.
“There we go,” he murmured. “All better.”
Just as she started to enjoy being held, the door at the end of the room creaked open and footsteps thudded on the wooden floor.
“Back to business,” Master Cullen said and released her.
Dios, someone had come in. Her hands flew up to cover her breasts.
With a snort of laughter, Master Cullen gripped her fingers, his knuckles brushing her breasts in the process. “Trainee, this is my body to bare or cover.” His hard lips curved. “But you may put on your dress now if you want.”
Oh, yes, she wanted. She darted over to the bar, snatched the garment up, and turned her back to the door, which left her facing Master Cullen, but at least he'd already seen everything.
His flashing grin startled her, but then he ruined it by saying, “That modesty is something we'll work on also.”
Oh, mierda. She hurriedly stepped into the dress. Glancing down, she realized the hem stopped barely below her butt and the bust pushed her breasts up to an immodest level. Rather sexy. But the rest… Two lace-up panels the width of a hand ran all the way down the dress with only a too-small vinyl panel in the middle to cover her crotch. Hopefully. If she didn't move too much.
Having taken a seat on a bar stool, Master Cullen took her hand and pulled her between his outstretched legs. “I'll lace you up.”
With a disquieting competence, he tightened the laces on each side until the dress fit more snugly than even her skin. Finished, he turned her from side-to-side like a doll to admire his work. Apparently she looked all right, for he grinned. As the lines beside his eyes crinkled and his cheek creased, her whole body felt like it had risen onto tiptoes, although she hadn't moved at all.
She took a step back and concentrated on regaining her breath. Madre de Dios, the man had an unholy effect on her.
His eyes narrowed, but whoever had come in walked up to the bar, breaking Master Cullen's focus on her.
The new person looked innocuous enough in a black silk shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black tailored slacks, but she hadn't survived the slums without the ability able to recognize a man who could be lethal.
She edged back a little and eyed the two men. Master Cullen looked just as deadly, in fact, but the smooth one would probably kill silently, whereas the trainer wouldn't probably enjoy making a mess.
“Master Cullen,” the man said as his dark gray eyes assessed Andrea. “Is this our new trainee?”
“This is Andrea,” Master Cullen said. “Andrea, Master Z owns the club.”
The man's black hair gleamed silver at the temples, so he was perhaps a few years older than Cullen. A faint smile touched his lips as he held out his hand.
She gave him hers.
Rather than shaking her hand, he curled his warm fingers around her cold ones. He regarded her a minute without speaking, then glanced at Cullen. “An interesting challenge for you, I'd say.” The gray eyes switched back to her, the impact like a punch to her chest. “Andrea, I'll speak with you tomorrow if you return.” His lips quirked. “Good luck to you.”
Good luck?
Chapter Three
Cullen rolled his shoulders. Almost midnight. At least Fridays were slower than Saturdays, probably because Z had only recently added Friday to the Shadowlands' BDSM schedule. Weariness pulled at him and slowed his movements, making him irritable. And unobservant. That new trainee had something going on with her, more than appeared on the surface, and he hadn't pursued it.
Part of him still wanted her to quit, but she'd taken everything he'd done and had worked hard tonight without complaint. And so, he had a Dom's duty to her.
The crowd around the bar had decreased, leaving only three Shadowlands Masters discussing the various scenes and a few others unwinding from their play. Wearing a black motorcycle outfit, Cat stalked up, trailed by her curvy sub. Cullen slid a Guinness down to the Domme and followed it with bottled water for her sub, whose red hair was matted with sweat. Cat nodded her thanks and waited until her sub drank before sipping her own beer.
Cullen glanced around and checked that he'd tended to everyone. Good enough. He needed to give some time to his other duty now. Pulling up Andrea's limit list in his memory, he considered his choices. A couple of the milder ones might do.
After lining up the remainder of Andrea's order on the bartop, he interrupted the Masters. “Raoul, your turn at the bar. I have a new trainee to harass.”
The swarthy Dom grinned. “The Amazon? She's a beauty.”
“She is, isn't she?” Cullen glanced across the room where Andrea handed out the first half of her drink order to a group of younger Doms and their subs. Finished playing, they'd kicked back to enjoy their second drink of the evening…and the scenery.
Definitely worth enjoying, Cullen thought. The dress he'd chosen fit her gorgeous body like a second skin. Of course, if her brain worked in the same way as his sisters, she probably considered herself overweight and hated every jiggle. But it happened that a soft, jiggling ass turned him on, and those lush breasts looked just the right size to fill his big hands.
She was definitely a large woman, another point in her favor. With her, he wouldn't have to bend like a pretzel to find her lips. He smiled. In an embrace, his cock would press against the softest part of her stomach. Nice.
But his personal plans didn't include getting involved. Nor was it appropriate for a trainer. The trainees came here to experience the various aspects of BDSM and submission but also to meet potential Doms. He wouldn't do them any favors by letting them attach to him. So although some intimacy went with being master over them, he set firm limits on the amount.
He watched as one of the Doms ran a hand down Andrea's thigh. She stiffened, frowned, and then pulled her lips into a smile. Cullen grinned. That looked like a good place to start. Under the bar, he located a couple of pieces of chain, one short, one long.
When he reached the Doms, he nodded and turned his attention to Andrea.
She smiled at him, then looked uncertain. “Master Cullen? Did I—” She obviously smothered the rest: “…do something wrong?”
Taking the tray from her, he set it on the coffee table and answered what she hadn't asked. “I've been watching you tonight, Andrea. You're doing a wonderful job.”
Her eyes lit. He rubbed his knuckles over her soft cheek. A sub's need to please; how could a Dom resist? “Now I'm going to make your job harder and give the club members some enjoyment.”