Becoming Theirs (Dominion Trust Book 1) Read Free Page A

moisture escaped from between her labia, wetting the curls of her sex. Punishment always did that to her, the anticipation and dread becoming all mixed up, confusing her. Soon the pain would clear her mind, simplify everything into nothing but sensation and reaction.
    The waiting was as bad as the punishment (okay, maybe it wasn’t quite as bad), and she knew Blaine took great joy in making her wait. He never told her how long she’d have to stew until he'd carry out the sentence. He’d make her lie there for two minutes, or twenty. She never knew, and that uncertainty was itself a cruel certainty of any punishment. Blaine believed that punishment needn’t just be physical — it could be psychological as well. Getting into, and messing with, a sub’s head was a favorite technique of his… and in that, he wasn’t alone.
    Shivers coursed through her body at the thought of what Kathryn would do were she to walk into the room and see a bare-bottomed Erica laid out like this for punishment. Though Blaine could be scary when he wanted to be, it was her Mistress who truly terrified Erica.
    The fact that such terror held more than a slight undercurrent of excitement to it disturbed Erica. Was it normal to be turned on by fear? She knew the answer to that — and it didn’t lend her any comfort. She wasn’t sure she knew how it was possible to be both scared to death of the woman, and yet have her pussy be soaked at the thought of being under her thumb.
    It made no sense, but Erica had long since passed trying to sort out her desires. Things were just too tangled up, her sexual motivations so convoluted as to make any determination of the whys of whom and what she was, impossible. She’d just learned to accept it — mostly. Someday she would examine those motivations more closely, but right now, all she cared to do was surrender to sensation, surrender to her Sir, to her Mistress. Nothing else mattered.
    The door opened again, and she heard his heavy footfalls draw near. Something solid hit the mattress near her head, the air current disturbing a strand of her hair.
    “No, not there. Other side, Erica. I want that ass facing the windows. Better light.”
    She gulped, nodding. Erica had hoped he’d let it go, but as usual he didn’t. Why did she hope for something she didn’t really want? Leniency wasn’t what she wanted. Quite the opposite, actually.
    As she moved around to the other side of the bed, her eyes alighted on what he’d dropped on the mattress.
    The paddle.
    It was a broad rectangular piece of dark leather; flexible enough not to cut her with harsh edges, but with enough stiffness to give her what she knew he intended — a roasted ass.
    He took up the paddle, swinging it a few times through the air, practicing his form. He brought the leather to her face, the smell of it strong and clean. “Kiss it.”
    She pressed her lips to the cold leather, her face burning with a deep blush. He took away the leather and presented his fingers to her lips. She gently kissed those too, his hand leaving her with a caress of her blushing cheek.
    It was a well-practiced ritual, but it didn’t make it any easier. Her Sir liked to draw out a punishment, luxuriate in her embarrassment, strip away any last vestiges of her dignity, and finally, enjoy her pain. it sounded crueler than she really thought it was; he was quite open about enjoying inflicting pain — but only if the person receiving it wanted it too. She was ashamed to admit she was very much that person, disturbing to her though it had been when she'd finally come to grips with that fact.
    His hand stroked her hip. “Legs together.”
    She complied, squeezing her thighs in a vain effort to hide her sex from his gaze. She knew that with her height, bending over the bed would blatantly display the swollen folds of her pussy.
    As if to confirm this, his palm patted her labia. “I love the way your pussy peeks back at me this way.” Hands smoothed over her