Lean on Me
Page 44
But her Señor wouldn't say no. The certainty welled up in her with the memory of his anger when she'd needed help and hadn't called him. All he'd ever wanted to do was to care for her.
Cullen's dark green eyes met hers. Steady. Level. Controlled. Her father'd possessed physical courage, but not the bravery to dare emotional fire. He'd retreated from everyone. Especially her. But Master Cullen would never crawl into a bottle to escape life. And she'd never seen him let anyone down, not his friends or the trainees or his family.
He wouldn't let her down. All she had to do was ask.
His gaze hadn't left hers.
Against the roaring in her ears, she couldn't hear her own voice as the words punched through the tightness in her throat, free at last, “Master, please buy me.”
Pleasure and approval filled his eyes. “That's my girl,” he said to her alone, his voice rough. Unsteady as she'd never heard it before. His big voice filled the room. “One thousand for my courageous sub.”
The relief filling Andrea almost took her to her knees.
Z chuckled. “Going once, going twice… Sold to Master Cullen. Finally.” He put a hand under her arm, and helped her down the steps and off the stage.
And there she stood, holding the edge of the platform, feeling as if the floor undulated beneath her feet. Her breath shuddered through her chest as fear unhooked its claws. She'd asked him for help, and he'd given it. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
Suddenly hard hands on her shoulders turned her, and Master Cullen yanked her into his arms. When her legs sagged, his grip tightened, molding her against his huge body.
Surrounded by his embrace and his scent of leather and man, the feeling of safety rose like a wave through her, crumbling all her resolve. A sob shook her ribs and broke free. And then she was crying, horrible, ugly sounds that she couldn't stop.
“You're safe, sweetie,” he rumbled, rubbing his cheek on her hair. “Poor baby.”
She cried until she felt empty inside, and his chest was wet with her tears. Her voice hitched as she whispered against his skin, “Thank you.”
His arms tightened and even though her bones ached, it felt as if he'd pressed some of his strength back into her. When he released her, she could stand on her own.
His finger nudged her chin up. “Let's see the damage,” he murmured.
Dios, she must look a mess. He handed her a paper towel. “Blow.”
She blew her nose and dropped the makeshift handkerchief into the wastebasket by the stage. Then he used another to wipe her face, even under her eyes where the mascara had undoubtedly run. A man who knew how to clean a woman's makeup?
His eyes crinkled. “I've been a Dom a long time, sweetie.” He turned her face, side to side, and grunted in approval. “All better.”
With a shaky hand, she took another towel. As she wiped her tears from his chest, touching the crisp hair, the hard curve of his muscles, the hollow of his shoulder that had always seemed just designed for her, she let the small task fill her mind and push all her doubts aside for the moment.
When she finished, she looked up slowly, gazing up over the muscular corded neck, his jaw, the firm lips that held no smile. The lines beside his mouth had deepened, and her finger traced one. His cheekbones seemed more prominent as if he'd lost weight. Green eyes, darker than a forest at dusk, focused on her. Dom eyes.
Caught in his gaze, she stilled, and her heart started to pound. He leaned forward, one arm on each side of her, bracing his hands on the stage and trapping her inside. “Ready to talk?”
“Yes, Señor.” She looked down.
He set a finger under her chin and lifted, studying her face for a long moment. “Did you wonder if I'd buy you?”
“No.” She hesitated and revised, “No, Señor. Not once I managed to ask. You”—she swallowed hard—“you care too much to let me down like that.”
“There we go,” he murmured. The back of his fingers brushed her cheek. “I'm very proud of you, love. I know it wasn't easy.”
Her chest felt tight, as if he was hugging her, although his arms hadn't moved.
“It will get easier.” His gaze intensified. “If we continue. Do you want me as your Dom—your master?”
The question, the offer felt like a big wave under her, hurtling her toward the shore. “Oh, yes. Please, mi Señor.” Please, please, please.
His mouth curved. “I'll make sure you get lots of practice in asking for help.” His hand threaded through her hair, and he pulled her head back until he could capture her lips. A hard possessive kiss, not kind, and the very lack of gentleness told her how much her answer had meant. He bit her lips, sucked the lower one into his mouth. Then his tongue swept in again. Heat flared through her, burning her fears away. When he pulled back, her arms were around his neck and her body plastered against his.
He felt so good. So right.
“Come, sweetheart,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “You need some water, and I really need a beer.”
The auction had apparently concluded, for the stage had emptied and people were moving chairs back to the usual places. Halfway across the room, the big blond who'd bid on her called out to Cullen. “Did she wipe out your Dom Dollars?”
Cullen laughed and said, “You ran that up pretty high, asshole.”
The man smiled before looking at Andrea. “I'm rather sorry you won. I'd started to think I'd be enjoying myself.” A look from eyes the color of blue ice made her shiver, and she edged closer to Cullen.
Her Master laughed and simply tightened his arm. Safe. Protected. “Dream on, Karl,” Cullen said mildly. “But I appreciate the help.”
Help?
At the bar, Raoul and Marcus were serving drinks. Raoul looked up, grinned. “Beer and water?”
“Definitely.” Master Cullen pulled Andrea over to join Nolan and Beth.
Nolan nodded, then growled, “You almost lost her to that youngster. For a moment there, I thought I'd have to deck him, but he decided to see reason.”
Andrea's mouth dropped open. Nolan had kept the young Dom from bidding? And the sadistic Dom had been…helping Cullen? Hijo de puta, he'd terrified her into begging him to buy her? She scowled.
“Look at that face.” Cullen rubbed his knuckles over her cheek. “Yes, it was a set-up. But the choice was yours. You didn't have to ask for help.”
“And if I hadn't?”
“Then Master Marcus would have bought you.”
A warm feeling grew in her stomach. “Even if I hadn't done what you wanted, you'd still protect me?”
His thumb caressed her cheek. “A master protects his sub. Anytime and anywhere. Always.”
His. The surge of joy almost hurt. Am I really?
As if in answer, he lifted her arm and unbuckled her gold leather trainee cuff.
The stab of disappointment took her breath. He didn't want her?
But then he looked up. “Nolan.” He held his hand up and caught a pair of leather cuffs from out of the air. Unclipping them, he buckled them on in place of the trainee cuffs. She stared down at them. Incredibly soft fleece lining. The rich brown leather matched the color of Cullen's vest and each cuff was engraved with Cullen's initials.
Master Dan walked up. Kari, still wearing the auction apron, danced with excitement beside him. Her smile at Cullen and Andrea brimmed with pleasure…and satisfaction.
Well, carajo. Andrea's mouth dropped open. Both Kari and Jessica had taken part in the scheme. They'd pushed her to enter the auction and deliberately not set a time limit. Those sneaky brats. But her anger slid right away as her fingers ran over the cuffs. Soft. His.
Señor chuckled and squeezed her hand.
Dan nudged Nolan with a shoulder. “Why do I get the impression that he's not going to share his submissive?”
Cullen growled, “You touch her, buddy, and I'll break your face.”
Nolan barked a laugh. “She doesn't get to play, and you do, oh, Master of the trainees?”
Andrea took a step away. As the trainer, Cullen touched the subs all the time. She smoothed her expression out so maybe he wouldn't see her unhappiness.
Cullen looked down. The pinched look around Andrea's mouth and the furrow between her eyes plainly showed her unhappiness. He almost laughed. The little tiger didn't want to share him; she considered him hers.
He'd spent years going from sub to sub, now he'd settled on one, and he felt damned pleased about it. She was his, problems and all. He'd have to make sure he stayed on top of that asking for help problem.
In fact… He pulled her back against his chest and cupped her breasts, enjoying her muffled gasp. “I think we'll practice having you ask for help some more,” he murmured into her ear. “Tonight, I'll find out how prettily you can beg for release. Over and over and over.”
In his palms, her nipples puckered, and he could feel her heart rate increase.
He pressed a kiss to her curly head, then called, “Master Marcus, I need you, buddy.”
Marcus walked down to the end of the bar. His glance took in the location of Cullen's hands, flickered over Andrea's cuffs. He smiled. “I do congratulate you, Master Cullen. She is a prize.”
“She is that,” Cullen said. “But since I don't want to wake up with my throat cut some night, I think you'd better take charge of these.” He nodded at the gold trainee cuffs lying on top of the bar.
Cullen's dark green eyes met hers. Steady. Level. Controlled. Her father'd possessed physical courage, but not the bravery to dare emotional fire. He'd retreated from everyone. Especially her. But Master Cullen would never crawl into a bottle to escape life. And she'd never seen him let anyone down, not his friends or the trainees or his family.
He wouldn't let her down. All she had to do was ask.
His gaze hadn't left hers.
Against the roaring in her ears, she couldn't hear her own voice as the words punched through the tightness in her throat, free at last, “Master, please buy me.”
Pleasure and approval filled his eyes. “That's my girl,” he said to her alone, his voice rough. Unsteady as she'd never heard it before. His big voice filled the room. “One thousand for my courageous sub.”
The relief filling Andrea almost took her to her knees.
Z chuckled. “Going once, going twice… Sold to Master Cullen. Finally.” He put a hand under her arm, and helped her down the steps and off the stage.
And there she stood, holding the edge of the platform, feeling as if the floor undulated beneath her feet. Her breath shuddered through her chest as fear unhooked its claws. She'd asked him for help, and he'd given it. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
Suddenly hard hands on her shoulders turned her, and Master Cullen yanked her into his arms. When her legs sagged, his grip tightened, molding her against his huge body.
Surrounded by his embrace and his scent of leather and man, the feeling of safety rose like a wave through her, crumbling all her resolve. A sob shook her ribs and broke free. And then she was crying, horrible, ugly sounds that she couldn't stop.
“You're safe, sweetie,” he rumbled, rubbing his cheek on her hair. “Poor baby.”
She cried until she felt empty inside, and his chest was wet with her tears. Her voice hitched as she whispered against his skin, “Thank you.”
His arms tightened and even though her bones ached, it felt as if he'd pressed some of his strength back into her. When he released her, she could stand on her own.
His finger nudged her chin up. “Let's see the damage,” he murmured.
Dios, she must look a mess. He handed her a paper towel. “Blow.”
She blew her nose and dropped the makeshift handkerchief into the wastebasket by the stage. Then he used another to wipe her face, even under her eyes where the mascara had undoubtedly run. A man who knew how to clean a woman's makeup?
His eyes crinkled. “I've been a Dom a long time, sweetie.” He turned her face, side to side, and grunted in approval. “All better.”
With a shaky hand, she took another towel. As she wiped her tears from his chest, touching the crisp hair, the hard curve of his muscles, the hollow of his shoulder that had always seemed just designed for her, she let the small task fill her mind and push all her doubts aside for the moment.
When she finished, she looked up slowly, gazing up over the muscular corded neck, his jaw, the firm lips that held no smile. The lines beside his mouth had deepened, and her finger traced one. His cheekbones seemed more prominent as if he'd lost weight. Green eyes, darker than a forest at dusk, focused on her. Dom eyes.
Caught in his gaze, she stilled, and her heart started to pound. He leaned forward, one arm on each side of her, bracing his hands on the stage and trapping her inside. “Ready to talk?”
“Yes, Señor.” She looked down.
He set a finger under her chin and lifted, studying her face for a long moment. “Did you wonder if I'd buy you?”
“No.” She hesitated and revised, “No, Señor. Not once I managed to ask. You”—she swallowed hard—“you care too much to let me down like that.”
“There we go,” he murmured. The back of his fingers brushed her cheek. “I'm very proud of you, love. I know it wasn't easy.”
Her chest felt tight, as if he was hugging her, although his arms hadn't moved.
“It will get easier.” His gaze intensified. “If we continue. Do you want me as your Dom—your master?”
The question, the offer felt like a big wave under her, hurtling her toward the shore. “Oh, yes. Please, mi Señor.” Please, please, please.
His mouth curved. “I'll make sure you get lots of practice in asking for help.” His hand threaded through her hair, and he pulled her head back until he could capture her lips. A hard possessive kiss, not kind, and the very lack of gentleness told her how much her answer had meant. He bit her lips, sucked the lower one into his mouth. Then his tongue swept in again. Heat flared through her, burning her fears away. When he pulled back, her arms were around his neck and her body plastered against his.
He felt so good. So right.
“Come, sweetheart,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “You need some water, and I really need a beer.”
The auction had apparently concluded, for the stage had emptied and people were moving chairs back to the usual places. Halfway across the room, the big blond who'd bid on her called out to Cullen. “Did she wipe out your Dom Dollars?”
Cullen laughed and said, “You ran that up pretty high, asshole.”
The man smiled before looking at Andrea. “I'm rather sorry you won. I'd started to think I'd be enjoying myself.” A look from eyes the color of blue ice made her shiver, and she edged closer to Cullen.
Her Master laughed and simply tightened his arm. Safe. Protected. “Dream on, Karl,” Cullen said mildly. “But I appreciate the help.”
Help?
At the bar, Raoul and Marcus were serving drinks. Raoul looked up, grinned. “Beer and water?”
“Definitely.” Master Cullen pulled Andrea over to join Nolan and Beth.
Nolan nodded, then growled, “You almost lost her to that youngster. For a moment there, I thought I'd have to deck him, but he decided to see reason.”
Andrea's mouth dropped open. Nolan had kept the young Dom from bidding? And the sadistic Dom had been…helping Cullen? Hijo de puta, he'd terrified her into begging him to buy her? She scowled.
“Look at that face.” Cullen rubbed his knuckles over her cheek. “Yes, it was a set-up. But the choice was yours. You didn't have to ask for help.”
“And if I hadn't?”
“Then Master Marcus would have bought you.”
A warm feeling grew in her stomach. “Even if I hadn't done what you wanted, you'd still protect me?”
His thumb caressed her cheek. “A master protects his sub. Anytime and anywhere. Always.”
His. The surge of joy almost hurt. Am I really?
As if in answer, he lifted her arm and unbuckled her gold leather trainee cuff.
The stab of disappointment took her breath. He didn't want her?
But then he looked up. “Nolan.” He held his hand up and caught a pair of leather cuffs from out of the air. Unclipping them, he buckled them on in place of the trainee cuffs. She stared down at them. Incredibly soft fleece lining. The rich brown leather matched the color of Cullen's vest and each cuff was engraved with Cullen's initials.
Master Dan walked up. Kari, still wearing the auction apron, danced with excitement beside him. Her smile at Cullen and Andrea brimmed with pleasure…and satisfaction.
Well, carajo. Andrea's mouth dropped open. Both Kari and Jessica had taken part in the scheme. They'd pushed her to enter the auction and deliberately not set a time limit. Those sneaky brats. But her anger slid right away as her fingers ran over the cuffs. Soft. His.
Señor chuckled and squeezed her hand.
Dan nudged Nolan with a shoulder. “Why do I get the impression that he's not going to share his submissive?”
Cullen growled, “You touch her, buddy, and I'll break your face.”
Nolan barked a laugh. “She doesn't get to play, and you do, oh, Master of the trainees?”
Andrea took a step away. As the trainer, Cullen touched the subs all the time. She smoothed her expression out so maybe he wouldn't see her unhappiness.
Cullen looked down. The pinched look around Andrea's mouth and the furrow between her eyes plainly showed her unhappiness. He almost laughed. The little tiger didn't want to share him; she considered him hers.
He'd spent years going from sub to sub, now he'd settled on one, and he felt damned pleased about it. She was his, problems and all. He'd have to make sure he stayed on top of that asking for help problem.
In fact… He pulled her back against his chest and cupped her breasts, enjoying her muffled gasp. “I think we'll practice having you ask for help some more,” he murmured into her ear. “Tonight, I'll find out how prettily you can beg for release. Over and over and over.”
In his palms, her nipples puckered, and he could feel her heart rate increase.
He pressed a kiss to her curly head, then called, “Master Marcus, I need you, buddy.”
Marcus walked down to the end of the bar. His glance took in the location of Cullen's hands, flickered over Andrea's cuffs. He smiled. “I do congratulate you, Master Cullen. She is a prize.”
“She is that,” Cullen said. “But since I don't want to wake up with my throat cut some night, I think you'd better take charge of these.” He nodded at the gold trainee cuffs lying on top of the bar.
