Read Online In the Den by Sierra Cartwright - Free Book Online

Dom, your Dom…when you come, I am pleased. Giving is more important than receiving.”
    Although her ideas of domination were similar to Damien’s, the execution of their scenes were different. Before one of her boys arrived, she would chat with him on the phone. She would find out what he wanted, and they would discuss their mutual expectations. After a scene, she would soothe her sub, dry any of his tears, tell him how proud she was of him, allow him as much time as he needed to dress in street-legal clothes, but she didn’t sit in patient silence for this long while he made sense of the physical experience. Maybe Damien was right. Maybe she did need to experience this for herself.
    “How are you doing?”
    She was shattered. No matter how much time he gave her, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to comprehend the emotional implications of them being together. “I need to go,” she said, pressing away from him.
    Surprising her, he helped her up. “Let’s get your clothes.”
    She made small talk while they went into the kitchen. “Remain there,” he said. “Don’t get dressed.”
    He excused himself and went into the bathroom, and she heard water running.
    This was awkward, standing in the middle of the kitchen, half-naked. She supposed it shouldn’t bother her as he’d eaten her while she was spread on his countertop. He had a way of demolishing her inhibitions.
    A moment later, he returned with a damp cloth. “Spread your legs, Milady.”
    She knew better than to argue.
    He crouched to bathe her pussy and ass. She appreciated the attention, but was becoming more and more desperate to make her escape. “Thank you,” she said, when he nodded his satisfaction.
    Aware of his gaze and wondering if her buttocks were bright red, she first pulled on her thong, then her jeans before tugging on her socks and stuffing her feet into her boots. She knew he noticed how much her hands trembled.
    When she started to pull off his T-shirt, he said, “Keep it.”
    Back in the foyer, she gathered her discarded clothing, wadded it all up then shoved it into her purse. With a half-smile that felt as fragile as her control, she dug out her keys.
    “I’ll take those.”
    “Uh…”
    “Milady, I’m not going to try to keep you here. I wish you would stay. And you’re welcome to. But if you’re intent on leaving, then I’ll warm up your car while you finish getting dressed.”
    Put that way, how could she refuse, even if it prolonged the goodbye? She dropped the keys into his palm.
    He pulled on a fleece jacket over his bare chest. Damn. No matter what he wore, he was a good-looking man. After turning up the collar, he headed outside.
    Catrina shivered when she closed the door behind him. And it had nothing to do with the sudden gust of cold air that had swirled around her.
    She heard the car engine start, and she shrugged into her coat before she could change her mind about leaving.
    When he returned, a few snowflakes clung to his midnight-colored hair.
    “I’ll walk you out,” he said.
    Survival instinct warned her to run…now.
    “Send me a text when you arrive home,” he said.
    “I’ll be fine. The drive is short and the roads aren’t all that—”
    “Don’t push your luck, Catrina.” His words were tight with tension. He captured her chin and tipped back her head. “I didn’t ask for a call. Just common courtesy. I’d prefer to tie you to the foot of my bed and keep you there until morning. So I think a text is a hell of a compromise.”
    She sucked in a breath. The image that kaleidoscoped through her mind terrified her. “You wouldn’t do that.”
    “Of course not. That’s far too uncivilized.”
    She exhaled.
    “I’m not an ogre. I’d handcuff you to the headboard.”
    He gave her one of those wicked smiles that made it impossible to know whether or not he was joking.
    “I need to go.”
    He walked her to the car. As she slid into the driver’s seat, he leaned in and said, “You’ll think