Page 17 of Under His Control

“I mean,” she hastened to add, “both of them were good guys. But neither one really had that”—she paused a moment, trying to get the words right—“that intensity, that full-on, 24/7 masterful, dominant control that I require.”

And which you seem to possess. In spades.

Master Damon arched a brow, his expression at once amused and a little challenging. “That you require, eh? Isn’t that topping from the bottom?”

“What?” Heat slashed across Ellen’s cheeks. “No. Oh, no, Sir. I didn’t mean—”

“Chill,” he interrupted with a laugh. “I’m just messing with you. I understand what you’re saying. The concept of a total exchange of power is very intriguing, though I’m not sure it’s really sustainable in the long run.”

Ellen frowned. Why had he signed up for the binding auction if he didn’t think it was sustainable? It would be up to her to prove that it was.

“I mean,” he continued, “I get that it works at The Enclave, where the whole place is dedicated to the lifestyle and funded from apparently unlimited resources. But in the real world—where we go to work and have to pay the bills and handle daily life—I’m not sure it’s realistic.”

“It could be, though, Sir. I’m sure of it. With the right connection and dedication.”

With the right Master.

He shrugged. “Maybe.” He took a long sip of his wine and then set down his glass. “I have to say, this whole no safeword scenario is pretty intriguing. I’m more of a scene Dom, at least up until now. I might take a woman home for a weekend or whatever, but I’ve never taken it much past that, at least not in quite a while. I’m all about very intense BDSM and power exchanges, but up until this little experiment, I’ve never had carte blanche full control over another human being.”

He reached across the table and stroked her cheek with his thumb. His touch sent a shiver of desire over her skin. “Are you sure that’s what you want, Ellen?” His voice deepened to a dangerous caress. “A complete power exchange?”

Ellen instantly slipped into full-on sub mode at his sudden change in demeanor and intent. Every nerve in her body tingled with nervous anticipation and nearly desperate longing.

“Yes, Sir,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

Those cool sea-green eyes bored into her. “It’s just you and me now, all alone in this secluded cabin. There’s no one to run to, no one to hear you scream. You are completely at my mercy, little girl.”

Ellen’s mouth went dry, her heart beating high in her throat. She had to remind herself that Master Damon had been vetted by The Enclave Doms and personally invited to the auction by Master Anthony himself. This was just classic Dom mind-fuckery. But it was working. She could barely catch her breath.

You wanted this. You’ve waited your whole life for this.

All at once, he reached across the small table and caught her left nipple in his fingers. He rolled it lightly as he continued, “I’ve never been with a sub girl who has so completely and eagerly relinquished the right to say no.” He twisted her nipple, the sharp pain making her gasp.

“You have abdicated the right of refusal. No matter what I ask of you—demand of you—you will obey. Isn’t that right, cunt?”

Ellen’s heart pounded as her gaze slid from his. She hated being called a cunt, even as she recognized it was his right to do so if it pleased him.

Perhaps sensing her discomfort, he barked, “Eyes on me when I’m talking to you, cunt.”

She forced her gaze back to his handsome face. His eyes had darkened, his lids hooded. He twisted her throbbing nipple again, even more sharply than before. Unable to stop herself, she hissed her pain, tears springing to her eyes.

Abruptly, he let her go and sat back. “You don’t like being called a cunt, do you, cunt?”

“No, Sir,” she admitted, willing herself to keep her eyes on his face as she blinked away her tears.

But that wasn’t entirely true, was it? A part of her—the secret dirty girl—reveled in the erotic degradation.

“But you wish to please me, your Master, in all things. Is that correct?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“So, by your logic, if it pleases me to call you a dirty little cunt, then that should please you as well, no?”

“Yes, Sir,” she agreed, thrilled deep in her soul that he understood what she needed, even if it wasn’t necessarily what she wanted.

His smile was both knowing and cruel. “Good girl.”

He pushed back from the table. “Would you like to come, cunt? You were so close back there on the spanking bench.”

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