Page 30 of Rebellion

“Sir what?”

“Just Sir.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to agree to calling him anything. “I don’t like it.”

“Why not?”

I sighed. What could I do, but be honest? “It feels so... so subservient.”

He took my hand and stroked the back with his thumb. “Then Sir it is.”

“I hate it.” I was no shy flower and this simple act of deference rankled.

“Maybe you do, but you will call me Sir, Angelina. You will be subservient to me, submissive for me.”

I swallowed hard. That tone of voice and the absolute demand from him surrounded me like a sensual haze. There went another zing to my girly bits. I didn’t expect or want to be turned on like this. Only Gray had affected me this way before or since.

He stroked his thumb across the small of my neck and bent his head to my ear. “Because in that submission, you will learn what true control and power is. Better than anyone else.”

This was bad. I couldn’t let him get to me. I couldn’t allow someone into my heart again. That wasn’t what he was asking for.

He might not be Gray, and he wasn’t what I wanted, but to allow my mind the time to grieve and heal, he was what I needed.

I could give him my body while taking from him, learning. That was why I was here. I would be his sub so that I could become a Domme.

“Okay,” I said. Yes, I was giving in, but I fully expected everything in return.

“No. Not okay.” He cupped my chin and forced me to look up at him, tilting my head and exposing my throat. His grasp slipped down, and his fingers wrapped around.

I didn’t pretend not to understand. I knew what he wanted and while I would always struggle to get the words out, they were a smaller pain compared to not moving toward my goal.

“Yes, Sir.”

He closed his eyes as if the words were a cool breeze washing over him on a hot sultry night. “Say it again and be mine,” he stroked my neck sending shivers over my skin, “at least for now, Angelina.”

I didn’t know if he was pushing me to make me uncomfortable or because he simply liked hearing the words. It never meant that much to me when the guys called me mistress. They’d never truly been my submissives either.

If I was truly going to be a Domme studying his wants, needs, and reactions would help me identify why he was a natural Dominant. Everything I’d wanted to understand about Gray.

But not right now. I shoved my questions to the back of my mind for later. This was a test of my submission, and I’d already learned the hard lesson of what happens when I didn’t truly submit.

“Yes, Sir.”

“That’s my girl.” He let go of my neck and kissed the pulse point. “Now, let’s find someplace more private. This first phase of the training is between you and me and we need to talk terms and negotiate limits.”

My hand in his, we walked away from Hawk and Lilly, but I don’t think either noticed. If I had the chance I definitely wanted to see how that relationship developed.

Anon Dom signaled to one of the staff who excused himself from the group of members he’d been entertaining and met us at a set of double doors.

Sir indicated to the bedroom designed for the club’s high-rolling members. Ten-thousand dollars a night for exclusive use. “If no one else is booked in the Master suite tonight, we’ll be using it.”

I hadn’t been in yet and here was Anon Dom simply demanding use of it. The staff guy glanced and me, checking to see if I was on board. I nodded and tried to smile. My nerves at spending alone time with my new Dominant kept me from doing more than a grimace. But the man seemed to understand.

“Of course.” He pulled the keys from the lanyard at his waist and unlocked the private suite.

Not sure what I thought would be on the other side of the doors, but if someone had said sumptuous hotel suite decorated in French boudoir meets BDSM they would have nailed it, in all the right ways.

A massage table, a seating area with plush chairs, a cabinet full of naughty goodies, a basket of multi-colored rope, were all dwarfed by the oversized bed with hooks in the ceiling above it and in multiple places along the bed frame, all accented with a wall of paddles, whips, and floggers.

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