SwitchingControl Read online

Page 2


  * * * * *

  The hot Dom who’d just walked in took her breath away. Selina Harrison paused mid-stroke in flogging the air. It was a slow night at the club, and not a single promising male had crawled into the playroom looking for a Domme to take him in hand. Too bad Selina had cut off her most recent needy sub months ago. Now she feasted her eyes on the tall, lanky guy with a dimple in his chin and a twinkle in his eye. She wondered at the surgical scrubs he had on. Leather was the usual club attire for most of the male Doms. Still, those blue scrubs draped nicely over his broad shoulders…and hinted at an impressive sex beneath the string that kept the pants from slipping down and giving her a clear, unimpeded view.

  For him she’d almost get on her knees and take his orders. Hell, forget the almost. She’d do it in a New York minute if he ever gave her the time of day. Which was highly unlikely.

  He made her want to submit, something she hadn’t thought about for five long years since she’d vowed never again to set herself up for mistreatment by a cruel Dom. Maybe it was the scrubs, or the kind look on his handsome face that wasn’t quite overshadowed by his obvious lust.

  Quit with the fantasies. This is the kind of guy who comes here for his jollies and then goes home and crawls into bed with a size-four society princess. Just like most of the members of this club.

  Her mouth watered when she watched him claim Snake Woman, the only club submissive who hadn’t been taken when he came in. With an arousing economy of motion, he secured her to a St. Andrew’s Cross not three feet from where Selina stood. God, but the guy moved as gracefully as a mountain lion.

  He obviously wasn’t turned off by major kink, because Snake Woman certainly qualified as kinky—in spades. She probably was a size four, that is if she ever put on clothes—but nothing else about her would remind her Dom of the moment of his gorgeous vanilla wife or girlfriend.

  Not many women had the balls to shave their heads. Snake Woman had gone that one step further, and had a wicked-looking reticulated python tattooed, its head staring down at her face, its body coiling around and around her neck, breasts and belly, over her pussy and down her left thigh to her ankle. From what she’d heard in the dressing room, Snake Woman had maintained the look long after the Master who’d commanded it had become ancient history. Just looking at the creature’s broad head staring down at Snake Woman’s face gave Selina the creeps.

  The Dom started out by stroking the head of the serpent, his touch gentle, sensuous, as if his purpose was to give pleasure, not take it. From the ecstatic sounds the serpent made, Selina guessed his touch to her tattooed scalp must have been a real turn-on. Now he was tracing the snake’s body that slithered around the woman’s small breasts on its way down her torso, moving slowly, his fingers teasing by sliding off the tattooed flesh to stroke pale, human skin. With one finger, he caught and tugged at the silver chain that joined dainty rings dangling from her distended nipples, and when she moaned he clamped first one nipple then the other as she wriggled in apparent ecstasy.

  Selina’s own pierced nipples tingled, the weight of the large rings she wore in them a constant turn-on when, like tonight, she was without a partner, amusing herself by limbering up her whipping arm. When he ran the tip of his tongue over the tips of the sub’s nipples until she writhed orgasmically on the cross, Selina imagined him licking her that way, biting her own needy flesh as her pussy clenched and sent hot fluid dribbling along her slit and down her thigh.

  Omigod. She had to bite her own tongue to keep from yelling, begging him to leave Snake Woman and sample her honey. The musky smell of sex that swirled all around them had Selina caught up in the scene, savoring the role of voyeur. She couldn’t help reaching down and playing with her own ringed clit when he started to lick his partner’s hairless, tattooed mound. He caught her clit ring and held it between his gleaming white teeth. Snake Woman moaned then, and when he caught the chain between her breasts and pulled it taut she writhed with pleasure and let out an orgasmic howl.

  Selina was so hot, she couldn’t suppress a deep moan, and that apparently drew the Dom’s attention. “Come join us,” he said, his voice a deep, irresistibly sexy rumble. “And give me that flogger.”

  When she met his gaze, she sensed he was testing her, gently demanding her to do something submissive. In that moment Snake Woman faded into the background of Selina’s mind. There was only the Dom…and her, being drawn back into her long-ago dream that she’d find a man who could compel her submission. It wasn’t just the physical pleasure she craved, but the emotional surrender she wanted to give him. A gift, not his due. Unfortunately her childish dream had blazed very briefly before it had become a nightmare.

  This is not a good idea, Selina. The voice in her head spoke in a whisper, as if it had to warn her but didn’t expect her to heed its advice. As if it didn’t want her to say no, but to embrace her deepest feelings, dispel the fear. The Dom must have read her mind because the look in his eyes darkened, commanded her to step toward him, offering her flogger—and herself.

  “Good girl,” he murmured, feathering a knuckle across her cheek before taking the metal-tipped leather she held out to him, a hesitant offer of surrender.

  When he took the flogger, she steeled herself to feel its sting on her breasts or cunt, since the rest of her was mostly encased inside a leather cat suit. But the touch of the leather on her ringed nipples was more of a caress, as soft yet confident on her body as the Dom’s voice sounded to her ears. “On your knees and suck my cock. Use your tongue.” He adjusted the cross, bringing the sub’s cunt level with his mouth while Selina went to her knees.

  It was probably her imagination—her fantasy—but it seemed when he turned his attention back to the woman on the cross that he wished it were just the two of them. To keep her fantasy alive, she told herself he was a gentleman who knew it wasn’t right to tie up a girl and leave her unfulfilled.

  His long fingers nimble, he untied the waistband of his scrubs and slid them and his underwear down and off with one efficient motion. Selina gasped. He was awesome. Hard-muscled thighs, taut belly, evidence that he was no couch potato. For a moment she did nothing but look, savor his well-conditioned lower body.

  Then she focused on his big, gently curving cock. The silver Prince Albert ring was thick and heavy—titanium if she didn’t miss her guess. When she looked closer and cupped his heavy testicles in both hands she realized he also had a guiche piercing adorned with a small, thick ring. “Oh.”

  “Like it?” His words were muffled against the lucky sub’s pussy, but Selina could tell he liked having the hardware played with. Catching the guiche ring on her little finger, she took his cock in her mouth and swirled her tongue around the plum-shaped head. The ring in his PA tickled her throat. Could she take it? God but she wanted to consume him, make him writhe and moan the way he was torturing Snake Woman. Making herself relax, she tilted her head back.

  It wasn’t easy, but she managed to control her gag reflex while she swallowed against his satiny shaft. She squeezed his balls firmly in both hands as she deep-throated him. Her pussy creamed, clenched. Her asshole twitched. She wanted to submit to him, have him claim all her needy holes.

  She had to be crazy, getting off on being on her knees, sucking off a Dom she didn’t know from Adam. Worse, she was imagining how it would feel if she were the one secured to that cross, writhing with climax after climax, totally under the control of a Dominant lover whose goal was apparently to give as well as receive pleasure.

  His hips thrust in and out, and when she sucked hard, he moaned against Snake Woman’s pussy. She felt his cock swell further against her throat, gently demanding more. The salty taste of him, the sheen of sweat on his taut belly, made her want to draw out his climax. Take it for herself rather than let him save it for someone else. She started to swallow convulsively, move her lips harder against the base of his cock. As he started coming, feeding her spurt after spurt of steamy ejaculate, she gently squeezed his sac, wanting al
l he had to give.

  He must have read her mind because he stopped licking Snake Woman’s cunt, released her from the cross, and drew Selina to her feet. This was a big man all over, with more of a swimmer’s body than a weightlifter’s or football player’s. She liked that he was strong enough to heft her substantial weight without any obvious effort—and nice enough not to comment that inside the cat suit was a “cat” her last sub had described as fat while they’d been breaking up.

  That was okay. The worm, as she’d called him, had been a hundred-fifty-pound weakling in addition to being a sniveling, groveling sub who couldn’t get it up without being flogged until his ass cheeks bled and having his balls stretched until they nearly fell off. Selina figured she was a lot better off without him.

  Right now the Dom’s eyes bored into her. Lifting his hands from her waist, he cupped her breasts then hooked his forefingers through the rings in her nipples and drew her to him until his strong heartbeat pounded against her flesh and his still-hard cock prodded her leather-covered belly. “I’d like to get to know you, Mistress. Somewhere away from here.”

  Mistress? Selina had almost forgotten she was here at Club Rio Brava, dressed and acting the part of a Domme. But he remembered and apparently chose to make use of the club rule that allowed two Dominants to reveal their identities to each other and interact outside the dungeon. “I’d like that, too, Master. My name is Selina Harrison.”

  “I’m Tom Latimore. Meet you outside. My car’s the black Lexus parked right by the door.”

  Tom Latimore. The name rang bells somewhere deep in her head. Of course! He’d been the hot guy she and all of her girlfriends had drooled over when he’d come to his cousin’s sweet-sixteen party. He’d been a college man, home for a visit from some Ivy League school out East. She wouldn’t expect that he’d remember her. After all, she’d been a shy, overweight fifteen-year-old who’d spent most of that party hiding behind a potted palm, sharing her loneliness with a plate of rich snacks.

  But she had no trouble remembering how he’d stopped to talk with her as if he’d been interested in what a gawky wallflower had to say. Or the warmth of his hand when he held it out and asked her to dance. For years she’d held on to the memory of her first dance, of the prince singling her out of a crowd full of older, prettier, skinnier girls. Girls with self-confidence to spare. After that party, her favorite fantasy had been that he’d come home again once she grew up and ask her for a date.

  She should have recognized him right away, she supposed, since he hadn’t been masked. After all, other than picking up a few character lines on his handsome face, he hadn’t changed all that much.

  Her heart beat faster, and her pulse raced as she hurried to shower and change, thinking all the time that when she went outside to meet him, she’d see a pumpkin instead of that Lexus he’d mentioned.

  Chapter Two

  Tom leaned back against the supple leather seat, amazed at how eager he was to spend time with Selina outside the club. His cock hardened, as though remembering the delicious feel of her full lips, her soft fingers. The memories were indelibly etched in his mind, along with those of her dominating subs yet not seeming quite comfortable about doing it.

  What would she be like outside the club? And what would she be wearing in place of the black leather? He had a sneaking suspicion she might not be a Domme by nature, found himself hoping she was up for making a switch.

  When he’d asked her to join him and Snake Woman she’d hesitated, almost as if she wanted to but was afraid. Of what? It was damn unusual for a Domme to switch, in his considerable experience. Most seemed not to have much interest in a man who didn’t crawl on his knees before them. But Selina? He couldn’t quite figure what it was about her, but he’d almost have sworn she was only pretending…or possibly escaping from a submissive role that had once caused her pain.

  He liked her roundish face, full lips and even features, what he could see of them in the cutout face section of her leather mask. No sane man could have failed to notice her generous breasts, creamy skin peeking from the holes in the cat suit, rouged nipples sporting thick silver rings big enough for him to hook two fingers through. The rest of her—well, other than most of her face, her nipples and her inviting, cleanly shaved cunt—had been encased head to toe in the form-fitting black leather costume for her play at the club. From the unnaturally firm way her waist had felt when he brought her to her feet, he guessed she had on a corset underneath. She was no reed-thin lightweight. As a matter of fact he was certain his fashion-conscious mother would call her hefty.

  That is if the two should ever meet, which he doubted. But then Selina wasn’t Snake Woman. Tom cringed when he considered how often he’d played sex scenes with the submissive serpent, but then, he had no reason to believe Selina would fit in a whole lot better with his social and professional acquaintances than the bald, tattooed woman who got off on significant pain.

  Hefty didn’t bother him. But he preferred to think of Selina being generously curved, could hardly wait to sample the naked woman beneath all that leather. Too many women these days killed off all their natural curves with crazy diets and liposuction, leaving nothing but bones for a man to hold on to. Given the choice, Tom liked a happy medium.

  Then he saw her coming through the door, standing on the porch. Backlit by Club Rio Brava’s soft incandescent porch lights, she looked more like a suburban matron than the hard-core Domme she portrayed in the club. In tailored black slacks and a loose-fitting soft gray sweater, her face framed with short, wavy sable hair, Selina had a look about her that even his mother could appreciate. Tom managed to untangle his legs and get out of the car, succeeding in reaching her in time to open the passenger door and seat her inside.

  * * * * *

  Tom obviously belonged to the upper class San Antonio society Selina had deserted some ten years earlier. Of course almost every member of Club Rio Brava did, except for a few newcomers who’d been recommended for membership, and a few favored subs like Snake Woman whose memberships had been sponsored by their former Masters. Still, Selina didn’t realize just how upper class Tom was until she saw the discreet sticker on his window that identified him as a member of the oldest and most prestigious of the clubs that sponsored Fiesta.

  Not that a socialite couldn’t be a pervert, of course. Her ex had been a poster boy for Perverts-with-a-Pedigree, if indeed such an organization existed. But instinct told her Tom Latimore was no pervert, just a hot Dom she could hardly wait to serve. She wanted to be confident he’d never harm her. Trying to think of him as that nice college boy who’d made it a point to dance with her, she pushed aside the hurtful memories that had made her decide once her marriage was over that she’d never submit to any man again. “What?” she asked, belatedly realizing Tom had asked her a question.

  “I asked if you’d like to go to your place or mine. Or someplace neutral like an all-night restaurant.” He sounded amused at having caught her napping, so to speak.

  Well, she wanted him to fuck her, and she didn’t think a restaurant was the ideal place for that. Besides, the last thing she needed was to feed her face at this time of night if she wanted the latest diet she’d started to work. “Yours.”

  She’d have invited him to the condo she’d bought after her divorce, but she wanted to see where he lived, find out how far he went toward bowing to convention beyond the conservative khaki slacks and subtly hidden western boots he’d switched into from those blue scrubs he’d worn for the club scene. Besides, her bed was mussed, and she had things strewn all over the place. It wasn’t as though she’d expected to bring a lover home.

  He drove expertly, no extra motion expended until after he turned off the outer loop and stopped at a stoplight. As if he sensed her nervousness he reached over and brushed her cheek then pulled her to him for a kiss. No more than a brushing of lips to lips, it pleased her more than the strictly carnal touches she’d experienced from a string of faceless subs.

  “Y
ou know, Selina, I want you in my bed, but that’s not all. I have this feeling…the feeling I want to get to know not just your body but you.”

  Men liked to fuck her, but they’d never wooed her. Until now. She resisted the urge to pinch herself, see if he was real or only a dream that would end as soon as they’d slaked their mutual lust.

  “We’re here,” he told her, shutting off the engine when he’d pulled into a reserved parking space on the first story of the parking garage. She was about to let herself out when he opened the passenger door and helped her out.

  As they walked around to his building, she imagined she was glowing, basking in his consideration, the manners she’d never before experienced from a sexual Dominant.

  * * * * *

  “Be it ever so humble…and all that.” Tom led her off the elevator and fit a key card into the door of one of the penthouse condos a few blocks from University Hospital, where he’d mentioned he worked. “Come on in and make yourself at home.”