Cherise Sinclair - The Dom's Dungeon

“No closet,” he agreed. He stroked her shoulder.

“I hate locked doors, you know,” she confided, still muzzy with sleep. “I have to open them.”

“Do you now?” And there, in two little sentences, she'd given him the answer to his unlocked dungeon. “How did you learn to do that?”

“Jenny taught me. She was a lot older, at least thirteen, and her dad taught her to pick locks. That's why they put her in foster care. She carried her picks everywhere. I do too. I can open almost anything.” Eyes half closed, his little sub smiled up at him sweetly.

His little master of locked doors. Huffing a laugh, Alex ran a hand down her arm, and she settled, sighing softly. Her body trusted him instinctively, or she'd never allow herself to sleep in his arms, but her subconscious, holder of all her secrets?

He'd made progress. But he wanted more. He wanted the rest of her story, the reason she'd not had sex for twelve years, the reason she stiffened whenever a man touched her unexpectedly. Rape… He'd thought rape at first, but it didn't quite fit. Her attitude toward sex hadn't been fear as much as revulsion and coldness at the thought of being intimate. Her emotions would shunt away to somewhere else. No, he didn't see violence during sex in her past…but perhaps abuse?

Pulling her closer, he rubbed his cheek against her silky, golden hair. Somehow he needed to get her to talk. As her lover, he wanted to know; as her Dom, he needed to know. But for tonight, he'd take the little confidence she'd just shared with him.

Mac eyed her evening gown, which she needed to somehow don without ripping off her fancy nails or messing up her hair. She held out her hand and grinned at the sparkling colors of her perfectly rounded fingernails. Amazing.

Earlier in the day, Hope had arrived and dragged Mac right out of the house. “ The guys are treating us ,” she'd said, obviously delighted to have company at the ritzy spa she took Mac to.

Sadly inexperienced in all the girl rituals, Mac had thought she'd have been intimidated by the staff and have a terrible time. But with Hope chattering away, the afternoon went quickly as they giggled and indulged in facials, soaks, scrubs, and massages. Now Mac ran her hand over her arm. Her skin had never felt so smooth and soft.

Other places were smooth also, and hadn't that just been fun? No one had told Mac all of what Alex had ordered and paid for. Like the horrendous thing called waxing , where they'd ripped the hair right off her legs. Frak, that hurt…but then they'd moved higher. Oh. My. God . Well, her pussy was now bare and smooth.

And she planned to kill Alex dead when she got the chance.

After a glass of wine, she'd managed to stop whimpering as she and Hope went on to get their hair styled, manicures, pedicures—someone had even done her makeup.

And now…with infinite care, she put on her gown. As she pulled the straps up over her arms, she glanced in the mirror and stared. God, she looked…fantastic. Elegant. The beautician had French braided her hair in a deceptively simple style, weaving in tiny strands of diamond-laced pink ribbon that matched Mac's gown. I sparkle.

“Very nice.” Alex appeared in the mirror behind her and zipped up the back of the gown. Or maybe it should be called the butt of the dress, considering the absence of any material from her shoulders to her hips. She jumped when Alex's hand slid down her spine and stopped just above her bottom. On bare skin. “Dancing with you will be a pleasure,” he murmured. Moving closer, he bent his head and kissed her in the hollow below her ear, making a humming sound when he smelled the exotic perfume one of the women had insisted was her fragrance.

His approval made her glow more than all the pampering. She glanced in the mirror again and smiled. Of course, she did look nice. Really, really nice. And he'd arranged it all.

All . She raised her chin, scowling into Alex's eyes in the mirror. “You sadist,” she snapped. “You told them to…” She felt her face turning red and sputtered out, “Do you know how much that hurts?”

Her move away from him was forestalled when he put one unyielding arm around her waist. His other hand slid down her gown to press against her groin. The feel of silky fabric, then the warmth of his hand penetrating to her poor bare pussy made her shiver, and he chuckled.

“I'll make amends later,” he murmured in her ear, and she could feel his cock hardening where he pressed against her from behind.

She thought about what his mouth would feel like on all that newly bare, sensitive skin, and her breathing hitched. “Mmmmh.” She cleared her throat against the constriction. “You do that, then.”

“Oh I intend to.” With a low laugh, he nipped the top of her shoulder, and her nipples puckered so tightly, they ached.

She pulled in a breath. Enough, or they'd spend the evening in bed. She moved far enough away to turn. Getting a good look at him, she blinked. “Wow. You clean up pretty nice, Mr. Fontaine.”

His eyes crinkled, only adding to the devastating effect of all that masculinity in a black tuxedo. “Thank you. Now you may tell Butler the same.” He nodded at the door.

She followed his gaze and burst out laughing. Sitting politely by the door, Butler had on a dog-style tux and bow tie. Rather than appearing chagrined by the costume, he looked quite proud of himself.

“You look stunning, Butler. I'm going to be with the two most gorgeous males there tonight.”

Butler's muzzle rose a little in acknowledgment of this truth.

Well, the evening couldn't be all bad if people brought their pets. She took a deep breath as Alex draped her cape over her shoulders.

Now if she only didn't do anything stupid…

The black-tie event of the fall, one newspaper had called it. Mac gaped like a hick as they walked through a hotel lobby filled with the elite of Seattle society, many of whom had pet escorts ranging from Chihuahuas in chiffon tutus to Great Danes in diamond-studded collars.

One German shepherd paraded around in a crown and kingly robes. “Oh my, just look at him.” After a second, Mac recalled herself. “Butler, you're the best-looking dog here.”

Butler gave her a dignified tail wave in answer.

Holding Butler's leash, Alex chuckled. “The pet stores do a brisk business before the ball.” He set his hand on her lower back, and his thumb stroked over her bare skin.

Giving him an exasperated look, she saw the amusement in his eyes. He definitely liked her backless gown. As he guided her through the crowd, exchanging greetings with people here and there, Mac tried not to enjoy the protective feeling of his arm around her. Don't get used to it, MacKensie. Nothing like this lasts.

Although she wouldn't lose him for at least two more weeks.

Really, she shouldn't have let him talk her into staying, but her common sense and her own desire had overcome her pride. But once she had a job, then her common sense would be satisfied, and she'd leave.

Frak, I'll miss him.

When the hotel manager cornered Alex with questions about the auction, Mac watched the people milling around and realized she didn't know any of them. Good . No one to point fingers or whisper behind her back. And yet loneliness created a little hollow in her chest. After the hotel manager bustled away, she asked, “Will Hope and Peter be here?”

Alex brushed his knuckles over her cheek, his look so tender, she couldn't move. “We'll find them in the auction area. Peter volunteered to oversee one of the tables.”

They made it at least twenty feet before they were stopped again. Alex performed introductions, talked briefly, and moved on. Ten feet. Introductions. Chatting as Butler politely exchanged sniffs with each leashed pet. Ten more feet. “Do you know everyone here?” Mac finally asked.