I shamed my name. I am a whore. I am a disgrace. I’m all the things my mother made me. I wear my badge with pride because I know the truth, and only those worth a damn see me for who I am, not the label I choose to hide behind.
I am a Domme. I would still rather be a whore than a hypocrite like my mother, or a victim like the daughter she raised me to be.
As Mistress Selina, I can bring a grown man to his knees without so much as a crack of my handmade whip. I love the power and control—what’s not to love? I must be mad to even consider Dominant club owner and King of Kink Jason Sinclair’s proposition.
Two Doms don’t make a right.
Self-preservation has kept me at a safe distance from the one man who could change all that. The only man who wields power like a sensual sword and keeps me balanced on that knife’s edge. My choice is simple: He wants me to switch for him. But if I do, will I bleed or will I fall?
“I’m not sure it had anything to do with it being a wedding.” I laugh lightly.
“No…You might be right. It had much more to do with you looking hot as hell, a convenient store cupboard and a lockable door.” He tips his glass and nods for a refill. I do the same suddenly feeling I need the liquid courage to play with the inferno sitting next to me. “After though…You didn’t return my call?” His gaze darkens.
“That would be because there would be no point.” I quickly down the sweet coffee liqueur and mouth a large ice cube, I take my time playing with it in my mouth. Relishing the effect I am now having on the implacable Mr Sinclair. He swallows thickly, his eyes never leaving my mouth. I know I am playing with fire but it feels so good.
“And why is that?” His casual tone betrays the heat in his eyes and the intensity of his glare. “Did you not have fun…because I seem to recall you had a great deal of fun.” He leans forward and pushes his hands between my legs and grabs the edge of the bar stool. My legs spread of their on volition just enough before I try to rectify their wanton error. Clamping tight against his wrist he pulls my seat closer to him. His muscular thighs trap me, his hand wedged between my legs, heavy lidded eyes bore into me with a fierceness that burns through my veins like wildfire. His thumb languidly stroking my inner thigh.
I take a moment, relish the utter pleasure these strange erotic feelings coursing through me evoke. My heart is beating a hypnotic pattern in my chest, hard and fierce. I am acutely aware the precarious balance of control that I hold so dear begin to slip. I feel the shift like a physical change and it is alarmingly seductive how natural it feels to give over to someone so absolutely Dominant as Jason…It is too seductive. I raises a brow, my calm facade, a mask to my traitorous emotions. I use the tips of my fingers to pick up the remaining ice cube from my glass, I quickly palm it and stretch out to hold it flat and hard against Jason’s rock solid erection. The ice water socking his trousers but not diminishing the heat in my palm one bit.
“Fuck Sam!” He barks out but doesn’t move, if anything he grinds into my hand and releases a deep moan. I can’t help laugh, that was not the reaction I was anticipating but then I should’ve known he wasn’t likely to run. He was much more likely to rise to the challenge he obviously thinks I am.
“Jason.” I sigh reluctantly removing my hand. “Two Doms don’t make a right. We would not play well together. The wedding was an exception… I will give you that it was an amazing exception but-”
“But nothing.” He growls his interruption.
“See that is exactly why I didn’t return your call. I’m not one of your little submissives Jason and you sure as shit aren’t going to kneel for me anytime soon…although…” My index finger lightly taps my lips which carve a wicked grin at the very notion.
“Yeah keep dreaming beautiful, because that is all that’s ever going to be.” He sniffs derisively but his eyes narrow while he slowly sips his drink. “But you weren’t always a Domme Selina?” His serious tone and leading question instantly kills my flirtatious mood.
“Oh you have been busy.” I straighten myself creating a cool noticeable distance.
“Daniel was just as much my wing man as I was his before Bethany and you know that. I’m not being intrusive. I am stating a fact. You weren’t always a Domme.” His dismissive tone is doing little to calm my irritation.
“I doubt Daniel would’ve disclosed any details but if he did he would’ve informed you it was one time and it was the very last part of my training. My instructor insisted I understand both ends of the whip as it were.” I clarify stiffly.
“Quite right too-” He nods in agreement.
“But that doesn’t make me a sub Jason.”
“No Samantha it doesn’t but you enjoyed it so that does in fact make you a switch.” His gaze seems to sear right through me with fire and so much desire I am starting to melt. What exactly I am struggling with? Is it that I actually like the turn this conversation is heading. No…I can’t… I can’t let it go there.
“And your point is?” My attempt at annoyance seems to amuse him. He moves his hand from his drink to lightly pinch my chin making sure he holds my eye contact. Not that I could look anywhere else…not that I’d want to.
“My point Selina… is I want you to switch for me.” His lethal glare scorches my breath from my lungs as I let out an inaudible gasp. “So tell me Selina, what is it going to take?” His assured cockiness is interrupted by my incredulous laugh.
“Oh Jason…that is sweet and I’m flattered, really I am.” His instant scowl darkens at my flippancy and condescending tone.
“What is it about me that your think is sweet exactly?…Do I look like a man that doesn’t get everything he wants?” He slips his hand around the back of my head and grabs a tight hold of my long sleek pony tail. I don’t flinch but my heart does feel like it is trying to beat its way through my chest.
“Do I?” I retort and hold his fiery gaze.
“Damnit Selina…you most definitely do not look like a man.” He sniffs out a laugh and his lips bite back a grin. “Give me one day.” He pauses to let the words sink in but the evident confusion must be etched on my face because it makes him clarify further. “Give me one day to change your mind. Spend the whole day with me and if I can’t convince you to submit to me…then…”
“Then?” I tip my chin for his answer but my movement is still restricted by his hold.
“Then it will be the first time I do not get what I want.” He grumbles and I laugh loudly shaking free from his grip.
“And if I do agree to submit… it will be a miracle.” I taunt.
He stands stepping into my personal space, putting pressure enough to widen my legs to accommodate him just that little bit closer. “I’ll pick you up first thing in the morning.” He leans down, his words kiss my neck like a tempting promise.
“Tomorrow? It’s Christmas Day?” I sag a little when he moves away, fighting the moan at his sudden loss of heat.
“Perfect day for a miracle.” He pauses at the doorway, holding my gaze for long seconds before stepping through the curtain leaving me a mess of heat and confus
One lucky person will win a Buckley (London) “Air” necklace and earrings.
Dee Palmer hates talking about herself in the third person so I won’t. My husband had my iPod engraved one Christmas with ‘sing like no-one’s listening’ and I know my family actually wish they weren’t listening because I am, in fact, tone deaf but it doesn’t stop me and this gentle support has enabled me to fulfil a dream. This has been a truly brilliant experience, I wrote The Choices Trilogy back to back and released them this year just one month apart...Don't you hate waiting for the next book in a series? The entire process has undoubtedly been made possible by my incredibly supportive family. I know this is very much an acknowledgment but I know I wouldn’t be writing even this single paragraph if it wasn’t for them so this is about who I am, I am because they let me be.