Cherise Sinclair - The Dom's Dungeon

After tossing their coats on the entry table, the others headed into the kitchen. Tess said she'd make some hot chocolate and asked Alex where he kept the Baileys Irish Cream. Sounded like everyone felt better.

Oblivious to the subdued mood, Butler had spent his time running in happy circles on the moonlit beach, and now he trotted up to the house, sides heaving and tongue lolling out.

Before he could escape, Mac grabbed his collar. As she pulled the dog toward the back room to dry him off, she heard Peter's voice in the kitchen. “Push her?”

Alex answered, “Exactly.”

Push her? Push who and where and why? Those Doms could be pretty inscrutable sometimes. With a shrug, Mac concentrated on getting the seawater and sand off Butler and not on herself.

“I do not want to smell like fish and dog,” she told him, receiving wiggles of delight at the attention. She put out some more dry food, checked his water, and left him tromping down imaginary grasses to make his dog bed more comfy.

Mac stopped in the hall to remove her long coat, then entered the living room. Everyone had returned to their favorite locations: Zachary and Tess in front of the fire, Peter and Hope at the large picture window, watching the water. Alex appeared from the kitchen with a large tray of appetizers. “Ah, my favorite French maid. Serve our guests, please.” He handed her the tray.

She glanced down at her costume and sighed. She'd actually forgotten what she wore, and now she knew why he'd wanted her to wear it. With a soft laugh, she walked over to Hope and Peter. “Would you care for something to eat?”

Peter's brows drew together, and his light brown eyes chilled. “Has Alex not taught you how to address a Dom?”

Oh frak . Where'd all the friendly atmosphere go? “Ah. Sir. Would you care for something to eat, Sir?”

“Better.” Peter picked up tidbits, one by one, and popped them into Hope's mouth while Mac stood as if she'd turned into a table or something. After a few minutes, Peter finished feeding his sub and took a miniature quiche for himself. As he ate it, he looked Mac up and down, making her very aware of the scantiness of her costume. She tried to think of a way to edge away, but that would be too obvious. Instead she turned her gaze to the water. I'm a table. Just a table.

Knuckles caressed the top of Mac's pushed-up breasts, and she jumped, almost spilling the appetizers. She tried to step away, but Peter grasped her arm, holding her in place. He ran his hand over her cleavage again. When she glared at him, he smiled slowly. “If maids don't pay attention, they get in trouble. Didn't your master mention that?”

She frowned at him, getting a feeling there was no right answer.

“At this party—at most of our parties—we grant permission for the other Doms to touch our subs. Within reason.” The back of his hand stroked over her neck and bare shoulders.

Alex hadn't, had he? She looked over her shoulder to where he stood by the fireplace, his arm resting on the thick oak mantel. His blue gaze met hers. After glancing at Peter, he returned to his conversation. Dammit. An ugly burn ignited in her stomach, and it sure wasn't arousal. Obviously Peter had permission to touch her. How far could he and the other Dom go? “What is considered within reason?” she asked and hastily added, “Sir.”

He tugged on her hair. “Well, now, that changes with each party. Right now, I think I'll improve the view.” His fingers slid inside her corset, and she tried to jerk away. “Don't move, sub,” he snapped. His eyes, so light a brown they were almost gold, seemed to glow.

She froze, and the tray she held started to shake. He took the tray and set it onto the table, then, watching her with a steady gaze, undid a few of her corset hooks, exposing her breasts down to the nipples. Her hands fisted at her sides in an effort not to push him away.

With an amused smile that reminded her of Alex's, he handed her the tray. “Off with you now, pet. I'm sure Master Zachary is hungry. Ranchers like their food.”

She stopped halfway across the room, trying to get her composure back. Somehow, when she'd been a whore, she'd managed to turn off her sense of outrage. Not tonight. Peter's touch hadn't roused her like Alex's; instead he'd made her angry. What a jerk.

She eyed her gaping corset and tried to decide whether to set the tray down and do the hooks back up or continue serving. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Peter's steady gaze on her, so she gripped the tray firmly and soldiered on. Hopefully the rancher would be more polite.

Zachary sat on the couch. Feet tucked under her long skirt, Tess curled up against him. The Dom had a craggy, weathered face with darkly tanned skin like a man who'd spent his life outdoors. When Mac offered him the tray, rather than sitting up and selecting something, he remained leaning back, one arm along the back of the couch.

Mac held the tray forward.

“Down here, where I can see what I'm getting,” he ordered, pointing toward his lap.

Well, good grief. Does Alex know what voyeurs his friends are? She bent over, all too aware of how the weight of her breasts made the corset gape farther open.

He did the exact same as Peter, picking out appetizers and feeding them to Tess. While Mac remained bent over.

“You know, that corset looks mighty uncomfortable.” Zachary ran a finger along the top. “Don't move,” he cautioned. He reached over the tray and undid hooks until only three remaining clasps at the bottom and the two thin shoulder straps kept it on her body. “There, that should feel better.”

She glared at him.

He smiled slowly, but no humor showed. From the corner of her eye, Mac saw his sub ease away from him. With one finger, Zachary lifted Mac's chin, forcing her gaze to stay on him. “MacKensie. I don't like that look.”

She yanked her face away and stepped back. “Well, I don't like—”

He rose so fast, she didn't have time to move. Yanked from her hands, the tray hit the table with a clatter, and Mac landed facedown on the couch with a hard hand keeping her in place. A second later, he'd stripped her of the corset entirely, leaving her in only a thong, garter belt, and fishnet stockings.

Before she could think what to do, Zachary set her on her feet and took his place back on the couch. He wasn't even breathing fast. “I realize you're a beginner, so I let you off lightly.” He handed her the tray. “You may take that to your master and explain why you're not in uniform any longer.”

She stared at him, her heart hammering in her chest. He'd taken her clothing. But he hadn't tried to cop a feel, not like most men would have. And although his eyes showed appreciation for her nakedness, he made no move to touch her further. He was totally in control. She took a step back, caught a sympathetic look from Tess, and kept retreating. Damn him.

No way…no way was she going to walk essentially naked all evening. Especially with everyone else fully dressed. She looked around for Alex. His back to the room, he pointed out something on the water to Peter. Mac glanced at Zachary. He'd pulled Tess into his lap to kiss her. No one watched Mac. And the door was right there.

She might not surrender, but she'd definitely retreat.

After setting the tray down, Mac hastened up the stairs to the master bedroom. And there she paced, caught in a quandary. Should she return back downstairs for the rest of the party? Damned if she would do that without clothing. But if she put on clothes, what would Zachary do? Even scarier, what would Alex do? Her heart squeezed at the thought of his displeasure, and wasn't that totally bizarre? In the last twelve years, aside from Jim and Mary, she'd never changed her behavior for anyone, no matter what they might think.