Page 7 of Master Cordell

When Sir opened the door to their cottage, then stepped aside, Tiffany entered and snatched up Eastwood before the fat cat could make a beeline outside—thankfully, his size made him a little on the slow side. Once the door closed behind them, she set him back down and smiled when he meowed indignantly. He’d been an indoor cat ever since Sir had rescued him as a kitten from the middle of a highway and wouldn’t know what to do if he actually managed to get outside for the first time in years. However, he still kept trying to escape. “Sorry, Eastwood. You know the rules.”

The cat turned, flicked his tail, and then strode away as if he couldn’t be bothered with either of them.

Tiffany was about to head to the bedroom when Sir’s hands grasped her upper arms and pulled her back against his hard chest. A rush of desire coursed through her when he lowered his mouth to her ear. The warmth of his breath sent goose bumps skittering across her skin. “Strip right here, Pet. Use the bathroom if you need to, then present in front of the couch while I go change and call Mitch back.” Her cousin’s fiancé had texted Sir just as they were pulling up to the cottage.

She swallowed hard as her heart rate sped up and a shiver went down her spine. Her response was barely above a whisper. “Yes, Sir.”

Sir pressed his lips to the back of her head for a moment before leaving her there and walking toward their bedroom. Her hungry gaze roamed his broad shoulders, trim waist, and sculpted ass, and her mouth watered. It took her a few moments before realizing he’d disappeared into the other room and she was still standing there, frozen in place in anticipation of what was to come.

When they’d arrived at the barbecue earlier, Tiffany had been worried about being around Masters Reed, Jared, and Troy, even though Dante had assured her it would be a relaxed evening without needing to follow most D/s protocols. But then Sir had kissed her silly by the car. The man made her feel like putty whenever he devoured her like that. He’d managed to give her something else to think about until they’d join the others, but just the sight of the three tall, strong Dominants had caused her legs to start shaking. It’d been a while since she’d been in a D/s setting, with Doms other than just Sir, and it’d taken every inch of her backbone to not drop to her knees when the men had looked at her. It was as if all the work Sir had done with her had gone down the tubes, and the last thing she wanted was to disappoint him and make him look like a failure in the presence of other Doms. Somehow, she’d managed to stay on her feet, and as soon as she’d had a chance, she’d joined Sasha and Sloan, squeezing in between the two women. She felt less conspicuous there, even though Sir had given her a long look, as if trying to see into her psyche. Tiffany knew he was aware of what she’d done and why, but surprisingly, he hadn’t called her out on it.

It wasn’t until after dinner, when he’d put the pillow at her feet and silently ordered her to sit there, that she’d finally relaxed all the way, and she doubted it had anything to do with the glass and a half of wine she’d enjoyed. No, it had everything to do with Sir. Even though Master Reed hadn’t required the protocol, Tiffany had needed it and had been grateful Sir had recognized the fact. Once her head had settled on his thigh, and he’d stroked her hair as he spoke to the others, the last of her anxiety had fled her body. Pleasing her Dom is what she craved. Not to the point of being a slave but having a connection with him that she didn’t have with anyone else was what she needed.

Throughout the conversations taking place around her, which she didn’t participate in, she knew Sir had been aware of her at all times. If she tensed for a moment for some reason, the pressure of his hand on her head increased, then eased as she relaxed again. Every once in a while, he’d asked if she was still comfortable and made sure she drank water to stay hydrated. Those were things Bruce never would’ve thought of doing. Her former Master would have had her waiting on him hand and foot for the entire evening, telling the others she needed to feel needed. In a way, he’d been right—but she’d yearned for so much more than that. Yes, she wanted to serve her Dom, but she also wanted what came with that. Sir’s smiles, his praise, his touch, and his obvious gratitude when she’d pleased him was what fulfilled her. That was what sheneeded.

She wasn’t a slave—she was a submissive. She knew that now, thanks to Sir. The education he’d given her, over the months they’d been together, had shown her the difference between the two. So why was she falling back on some of the misgivings and anxieties she’d experienced as a slave? Sir wasn’t Bruce—not by a long shot—and he didn’t want a slave, yet Tiffany had needed him to pick out her clothes today. That was something she hadn’t asked him to do in months. He must be disappointed by her actions, but for some reason he hadn’t pushed her into making her own decision about what to wear.

Not realizing how long she’d been standing there staring at the door to the bedroom, Tiffany gave herself a mental shake, quickly stripped out of her clothing, and made a fast trip to the half bath off the kitchen. While the air-conditioning was on in the cottage, it was set at a comfortable temperature, so she didn’t feel cold. When she returned to the great room, she pushed the small coffee table out of her way, grabbed one of the large throw pillows from the couch, and dropped it onto the floor. Having done that numerous times before, she no longer needed a full explanation from Sir of what he expected from her which hadn’t been the case when they’d first entered into their contract.

She’d just gotten on her knees when Sir sneezed a moment before exiting the bedroom. If it hadn’t been for that, she probably wouldn’t have heard him coming since he had light feet for such a big man. She had just enough time to place her hands palms up on her thighs, rest back on her heels, and bow her head before she saw him out of the corner of her eye. He stopped at the counter separating the kitchen from the rest of the great room and grabbed a tissue from a box she kept there. After blowing his nose, he washed his hands at the sink before striding toward her.

Keeping her head down, she asked, “Are you feeling okay, Sir?” She hoped he wasn’t getting sick.

Sir sat on the couch in front of her and used his fingers to lift her chin until her gaze met his. He was wearing a pair of lightweight, black sweatpants and nothing else. She was happy to see him smiling at her. “I’m fine, Pet. Thank you for asking. It was just some dust tickling my nose.”

Tiffany knew what that was like. More than once, dust from all the work the contractors were doing at the resort had resulted in her having brief sneezing fits during the day. She and Sir both tried to keep their cottage clean, wiping down the furniture and vacuuming often. Thankfully, the heavy construction would be over soon, and it would no longer be a constant battle between them and the extra layers of dust particles that invaded their home.

That was another difference between Sir and Bruce. The latter had never helped her clean anything. In fact, he’d had a housekeeper, who’d come in bi-weekly, when Tiffany had first started seeing him, but he’d gotten rid of her after putting in their D/s contract that Tiffany would do the cleaning for him—for free. God, she’d been such a fool.

“Did you enjoy yourself this evening?” Sir asked.

“Yes, I did, Sir. Master Reed is very nice.”

“Yes, he is. So, why don’t you explain to me why you were so nervous around him and Masters Jared and Troy, hmm?”

Tiffany licked her suddenly dry lips. She should have known he wasn’t going to completely let that go. At least he’d waited until they were alone before calling her out on it. It had taken her months to be completely comfortable with telling Sir what she was thinking and feeling, but with his encouragement and patience, it’d gotten easier each time. He no longer had to play twenty questions to drag things out of her—at least, most of the time. She knew it pleased him when she took a moment to really think about her answers before giving him an honest one. “I-I tried not to be, Sir, but ... but it’s been a while since I’ve been around other Doms like that. I know there are several Doms here throughout the day, like Masters Jared and Troy, but I’ve only seen them while everyone is working. They’ve never demanded I follow protocol while I’m doing my job, so it was different seeing them tonight in a D/s setting at the barbecue.”

Sir leaned back against the couch and patted his thighs. “Come up here, Pet.”

She quickly got to her feet, sat on his lap, making sure she put her ass down on his good hip and thigh, and curled up against his bare chest, resting her head on his shoulder. She placed a hand over his heart, letting the smattering of dark, coarse hair that covered his muscular pecs slip between her fingers. His powerful arms wrapped around her, and she sighed in contentment, loving when he held her like that.

“I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to interact with Dominants while on the job, but it’s my fault for not recognizing you still need to work on that in a D/s setting.”

“It’s—” She wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but he squeezed her, cutting off her words.

“Don’t say what I know you were about to say. I’m your Dom, Pet. I’m supposed to notice these things. While communication between us is key, I should have recognized something was wrong and sat you down like this to discuss it. We’ve been so busy, I didn’t realize until today that not being in a public D/s setting in a while has caused you to fall back on a few old habits.

“Not this coming weekend, but the next one, Master Reed has invited us to stay with him and Dante in Miami for a night.” Apparently, she’d missed that part of the conversation earlier at the barbecue, and Sir knew it. “It’ll be the last chance we have to get away for a while, so think of it as a mini vacation. Reed also offered us the use of his helicopter, so we don’t have to drive. We’ll be joining them at Edge, the exclusive club they belong to there. While it’s similar to The Covenant and Club Domain in that, as guests, we won’t be able to play, you’ll still be required to follow protocol. I think it would do you good to be surrounded by Doms in a D/s setting again before the resort opens. What do you think?”

Another thing she’d needed to get used to—Sir asking for her opinion on certain things. While he’d made the plans without her, he still wanted her input or at least to know how she felt about them. Bruce hadn’t given two shits about what her opinions were on any subject. He’d expected her to follow his orders without complaint, and she’d done it because she’d thought that’s what a D/s relationship was all about. Oh, how wrong she’d been. She’d served and obeyed him, and he’d taken everything from her without giving anything back.

“I’d like that very much, Sir. And you’re right—I think I do need it.”

“Good. I’ll also be pushing your limits while we’re at the club—it’s been a while since I’ve done that too. Again, I’m sorry that getting the resort up and running interfered with our D/s relationship. I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t happen again. If we’re ever going to get you to the point we can start looking for a permanent Dom for you, you’ll need to be at ease with interacting with them.”

Tiffany stiffened in his arms as his words slashed deep wounds into her heart. She hated having any reminders that her relationship with Sir was only temporary, despite the fact they’d been together for over a year now. She didn’t want another Dom—she wanted Sir, but it was clear he didn’t feel the same way.

“What’s wrong, Pet?”

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