Page 3 of Under His Control

“No, you’re right,” Lucia agreed with a serene smile. “It’s not a classical auction where money changes hands. But it is an auction in the sense that the Doms are all vying for a limited number of subs. We call it a binding auction to distinguish it from our charity auctions, and also because the pairings are binding for the one-week term of the contract. The participating Doms are able to rank their choices but, in the end, it’s up to our Enclave Masters to decide.”

“It’s way better that way,” Danielle added. “When you think about it, even one week can be a very long time with the wrong Master. This way it’s less random and more controlled.”

“And you know we subs are all about control,” Jaime added with a laugh.

They headed toward the communal bathroom to freshen up before joining the Doms upstairs. As Ellen was washing her face, Juliette, facing the mirror as she applied dark red lipstick to her mouth, said conspiratorially, “I don’t care if we’re not supposed to rank the Doms. I did it anyway, at least in my head. Just based on the profiles, I picked Master Tom, Master Jake and Master Damon. Tom and Jake are local, which is a definite plus, and they both checked a lot of my submissive boxes. Master Damon lives in Charlotte, which isn’t impossible, but who wants to commute to play? Still, not even taking into account how fucking gorgeous he is, Master Damon intrigued me because of his professional background—special ops military and all that. I like the cool biceps tat, too. A guy like that has to be physically and mentally tough, which is a definite turn-on. And that scar on his cheek. That’s proof he’s seen combat. Sexy.”

Ellen wasn’t sure she agreed combat was sexy, but she couldn’t deny she was intrigued as well by Master Damon’s military service. And she did wonder just how he’d gotten that scar.

“But after sceneing with Damon, I think I’ve changed my mind,” Juliette continued. She hugged herself and shivered melodramatically. “There was something, I don’t know, dangerous about that guy.”

“Dangerous?” Ellen echoed, her hand fluttering to her cheek, the memory of Master Damon’s hard palm sending a rush of desire through her core. Those cool sea-green eyes looking directly into her secrets, those muscular thighs, the scent of leather and lust, the heady pleasure of that intense spanking.

“Yeah,” Juliette said. “Like, I could totally see him keeping you in a cage when he’s not using you or giving you away to his friends or something.” She licked her lips, her eyes shining, her nipples stiff, despite her protests. “No way would I want to be at that dude’s mercy for seven days without a break.”

Amira, apparently listening to their conversation, interjected, “I don’t know about dangerous. I mean, I heard that Master Anthony personally invited him to participate in this auction. So, obviously he’s been properly vetted. Still, though. I know what you mean. He’s definitely intense. But I like that. I don’t want some touchy-feely guy. I want a Master. And he was terrific with a single tail.” She twisted to show them the welts on her ass and the backs of her thighs. “I’d happily spend a week with him, if I get that kind of intense impact play every day.”

Ellen was startled by a sudden stab of jealousy. Which was ridiculous, as she’d already ruled Master Damon out as a potential partner. She did want a touchy-feely Master, thank you, if that meant interest in a real relationship.

“So, what about you, Ellen?” Juliette asked. “How was your scene with the dark, mysterious Master Damon?”

Despite the unexpected connection she’d felt with Master Damon during their brief but intense scene, Ellen reminded herself for the umpteenth time that she was looking for a long-term Master, someone to whom she could devote herself fully and completely.

Four of the six competing Doms had stated they were actively seeking a relationship, and those were the only four she should be focusing on. Though at that precise moment she was damned if she could remember any of their names.

“Can you see yourself spending a week with the guy?” Juliette persisted.

“No,” Ellen asserted staunchly. “Absolutely not.”

Chapter 2

“Anything.”

It was, quite simply, the perfect answer. The only answer.

There had been such pure conviction in her statement, and Damon couldn’t get it out of his head. He couldn’t get her out of his head.

There had been no guile or coquettishness in those clear blue eyes. The quiet strength and openness in her gaze appealed to him. Though she wasn’t his usual physical type, he couldn’t deny the utterly feminine beauty of her curvaceous form, with those full breasts and that ass that was totally made for spanking.

Then there was her rich brown hair, which fell in a thick tumble down her back. Copper strands ran through it, catching the light as they blended with brighter blond filaments. His fingers curled into a fist on his knee as he imagined wrapping his hand in that hair, gripping it hard as her eyes widened with that powerful combination of erotic fear and desire.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was falling for a girl he’d spent fifteen minutes with. Damon snorted softly at the ridiculous idea. He took a sip of very fine Cognac as he recalibrated his thoughts.

He revisited his scene with Amira, initially his top choice for this week-long BDSM experiment. Like him, she had also ranked a long-term relationship at the end of her list of goals and desires. First and foremost, she stated she was seeking “intensity of experience.” It was that even more than her looks or other attributes that had made the choice a no-brainer.

Their scene had been good. Amira’s ability to handle a single tail had been admirable. She’d behaved with grace and eagerness. He’d had a sense she could have taken far more than he’d given her, and it would be fun to find out.

The odds were only fifty-fifty he’d even win one of the subs, he reminded himself. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with taking an entire week off from his business, so if it didn’t happen, that was fine too.

A hand was suddenly thrust into Damon’s line of vision. “Tom Jenkins.”

Damon looked up at a thirtysomething guy with blond hair and warm brown eyes. He held a bottle of beer in his free hand. Damon reflexively accepted the offered hand and gave it a firm shake.

“Damon Miller,” he replied.

Tom sank into a chair kitty-corner to Damon. “That was some intense sceneing, right? I thought I’d be frustrated during the times I only got to watch, but it was almost as cool observing as it was participating. My dick’s about to explode from all the stimulation. I honestly can’t say which one of those lovelies I want more.”

Damon nodded without comment.

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