Raw Ch. 07

For some God-forsaken reason, I obeyed.

The couch springs squeaked as Jesse adjusted his position. I felt the heat of his body as he leaned closer. Smelled the warm scent of butterscotch on his breath as his lips brushed my jawline. I loved butterscotch. God help me, I wanted him to kiss me so I could taste him.

"It is all about giving up your will," he whispered against my ear. "Letting go so that even the lightest touch brings the greatest response."

I gasped as he brushed a strand of meticulously-curled hair off my shoulder. It felt like a slow current was being pumped through my veins. When his fingers moved further back behind my neck, I tilted my head away, sighing.

"Yes, just like that. Do not fight it."

His hand was on my right thigh now. Skimming over the material of my pants. Pulling my leg up to his hip. His touch made my nipples harden for what seemed like the dozenth time that night. Or maybe it had just been one long, ongoing nipple-perking session since I'd stepped foot in this house.

My breathing grew more shallow. I shivered. Then a moan escaped as his fingers danced under the curve of my knee, his thumb stroking the side.

"Mmm. That is a beautiful sound."

I arched my back, conforming to the arm of the couch, as his chest brushed mine.

"The next step is feeling but not instinctively reacting."

No shit. But every minute I'd had with Malcolm about not reacting had gone down the drain with just one touch from this man. Maybe I was getting soft. Complacent. No man could be that good to make someone forget two years of teachings. Right?

"Becca?" Daphne called.

Her voice broke the spell Jesse had put over me. My leg dropped suddenly, and my eyes flew open. I was sitting by myself on the couch. Jesse was standing at the open doorway to the stage, his eyes trained in my direction but definitely not on my face.

"It is time to go."

I wanted to scream. To hit him. But my heart was beating so fast and loud in my head that I couldn't form the words to spew at him. Ultimately, I wanted to crawl into a hole for falling for his seduction.

Somehow, I managed to get up and make it to the door. I flinched as he put his hand on the small of my back and gently ushered me through to the stage. My top was so thin, I could feel the heat of his touch straight through to my skin. And it was no longer welcome.

I tried to be casual about putting my jacket on, but my arm got stuck and he had to help me. Then I couldn't find the opening in the curtain. When he finally showed me the way, I hurried through ahead of him, a fake smile pasted to my face.

"There you are. I was getting worried," Daphne said, glancing between us.

"I was just giving Lady Becca a tour of the aftercare room," Jesse said. "I am sorry you had to miss it. Perhaps another time."

His voice was calm and sickeningly sweet. As if nothing had just happened between us. What an ass.

I managed a brief "goodnight" and started upstairs. I barely heard him as he thanked Daphne and I for visiting. The first floor was empty except for a couple of stragglers, the rest of the guests gone or retired to their assigned rooms for private play and eventual sleep.

As soon as we were standing outside, a tear slipped down my cheek. Then another. And another.

"Becca?"

"Take me home."

I heard her call for a ride on her phone. I shrugged away when she tried to hug me. I didn't want anyone to touch me right now. I could still feel his hands on me. His lips. Hear his voice. My insides curled in disgust. I'd been such a fool.

Once the cab arrived, I stared blindly out the window. Despite the constant pressure in my chest and head, I refused to break down here. I told myself to hang on until I was alone. When I could escape to my bedroom and give into the pain that was setting in. The confusion. The guilt.

But the scenery didn't look right once we reached the city. We were heading downtown when I lived uptown. Or where the condo was, at least, because I had to remind myself that I didn't live here anymore. I turned to yell at Daphne for forcing me to continue with her party when the cab stopped and my door opened.

I let out a sob when Malcolm's face appeared. I grabbed his outstretched hand and practically fell out of the car into his arms.

"What's wrong?"

My thoughts swirled around in my head like a tornado. I couldn't put them into words. Although his arm circled my shoulders, it did little to calm me down. Then I noticed where we were. I hissed through clenched teeth, "I need you. Now. Please."

His embrace tightened for only a moment before he took just my hand. He whispered something to Daphne, then we were moving. Entering the non-descript building. Hurrying down the dark hallway. Pausing only to show his identity card.

The sounds and lights inside were a muffled blur as he ushered me past dancing couples and flashes of red, green, and yellow neon bracelets. I roughly pushed the beaded curtain aside when we reached the hall that led to the stairway to the private rooms. Unfortunately, we had to go up another flight to the third floor to find an empty one. Everyone must have had sex on the brain tonight.

My pants were off before he'd locked the door.

"Becca?"

"Fuck first. Talk later." I caught myself and added softly, "Please, Sir?"

He didn't speak but pulled his shirt over his head. I gulped and froze, staring at his toned abs. The V that defined his hips and revealed where it pointed as his pants lowered. I bit my lower lip as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxer briefs. Then he lifted his eyes to me, and the spell broke.

I started to lift my top.

"Leave it on," he growled.

I shoved my thong down instead and walked backwards toward the bed, licking my lips as I watched him stroke his thickening cock as he followed me.

"Get on the bed. On your knees."

I crawled up and faced away from him. I tucked my arms under my chest and had just taken a shuddering breath as my tears dispersed when he slammed into me. I choked and shook from the impact. It only took a couple of strokes before I came, screaming his name.

He did not relent, and I relished the forcefulness he took with me. He eventually flipped me over onto my back. I rubbed my clit as he changed angles, his hands holding my thighs up and apart. My other hand kneaded one breast through my top, easing the ache there.

By the time that Malcolm found release, I'd had two more orgasms. My top had found its way to the floor when it got in the way of him grabbing my breasts. I preferred us this way, skin to skin.

As I lay panting in his arms, his lips nuzzling my neck, I was reminded that I wasn't just a partner for Malcolm. I was his girlfriend. We had a relationship that went beyond just fuck buddies in a scene. I knew he wasn't going to set me aside on a whim to be with another submissive to do some other kinky trick I wasn't into. Or neglect my needs to meet his own.

Regardless of what Jesse thought of submissives—of me, or my Dominant partner for that matter—Malcolm and I were not merely skimming the surface. He wasn't in it just for the control, and I didn't obey just to get sex or pleasure. Our feelings went down to the core for us. Part of me was saddened that no matter how many partners Jesse or Juliet had, they would never find what Malcolm and I shared. That I was certain.

###

"So are you ready to talk?"

I battled with wanting to turn to face Malcolm or staying where I was, his naked body still curved around mine. We'd rested for only a few minutes. I felt like I could just fall asleep for hours despite the fact that the bed was just a covered mattress with no sheets and no pillows. But sleep would allow me to escape, though I knew it was just temporary relief. Fleeting. Like those feelings tonight after—

"It was the show." His voice was quiet. Knowing.

I nodded against his arm under my head.

"I should have gone with you." His free hand caressed my hip, which made me wiggle against him. "I should have at least warned you."

His cock pressed against my ass cheeks, and I moaned. My hand covered his, sliding it inward and further south. His fingers danced over nerves so sensitive I gasped and flung my head back against his shoulder. He turned my chin so that our lips could meet as his fingers pressed between my thighs. Then he paused.

"Tell me."

I groaned, rolling backwards just enough that I could part my legs. "About what?"

"The show. What did he do?"

As long as I spoke, he slowly stroked one finger against my clit. If I stopped to catch my breath, he stopped as well. By the time I'd relayed what I could remember of the show, I had been on the brink at least half a dozen times without falling over. It was maddening.

"Did you come?"

"Not yet," I panted.

He removed his hand, and I clutched at air trying to put it back.

"Did you come at the show?" His growl was so deep I barely heard the words.

I whimpered.

"Lady Becca, it's a simple question. Did you or didn't you—"

"No!"

His hand returned, delving deeper and thrusting upwards. My thighs clamped around his wrist, my hands clinging to his arm as his fingers moved inside me. I shook so hard, my screams were silent. All I could hear was the thumping base from the music of the club beneath us. Or maybe that was my blood pumping through my head.

"Good girl." He kissed my shoulder and wrapped his arms around me as the shudders waned. "Did you enjoy the show?"

I nodded weakly.

"They can be so arousing that the people in the audience have the same reactions as those on stage."

After what I'd experienced tonight, I was sure that was entirely possible.

He got up and pulled on his boxer briefs. "We need to go. Drake and Daphne will wonder what's become of us. I don't want to worry them any more than they already are."

"I'm sorry."

Malcolm squatted down beside the bed. His eyes were still dark and glossy from our session, but the seriousness in them made my breath catch. "Don't be sorry. You have done nothing wrong. It's only natural to have the unbridled desire built up like that and feel frustrated when it's not released."

"Okay." I pressed my cheek into his palm when he rested his hand there.

"And don't ever apologize for wanting me." He stood again and tossed me my shirt. "You can have me wherever and whenever you want. I hope you know that."

"But not at school." God, where did that come from?

He growled. "Oh, honey, I'd find a way."

I stared at him, my shirt pressed to my sweaty breasts, as he pulled on the rest of his clothes and walked to the door.

"Get dressed and meet me downstairs. You have ten minutes."

It took almost half of the time he gave me to get my pants back on. Unfortunately, there was no mirror in the room—it was intended for sex, not for primping—so I had to resort to using a compact mirror in my purse as I ran my fingers through my hair. Men had it so easy. They could just fuck and go.

I glanced at my watch and saw that I had two minutes to spare. Hoping I looked somewhat presentable but not overly concerned since it was dark downstairs, I took a deep breath and opened the door. Despite my emotional rollercoaster during the past hour, I was getting a second wind. I was ready for some drinking and dancing. Time to get this belated bachelorette party going for real.

But something seemed off. I didn't realize what it was until I had descended to the main level: it was quiet. So quiet I could actually hear talking further down the hall. As I got closer, I could see the silhouettes of three people under the red glow of the overhead lights.

"She's going to hate us," one of them said with a soft sob. Daphne.

"So be it. My decision is final." That was Drake. "Please respect that."

"Is this how you want to leave? She won't understand. Not after—"

"I'll explain it to her," I heard Malcolm say.

I was still a couple of feet away from the group when I said, "You'll explain what?"

"Oh, Becca!" Daphne cried, running towards me.

"Stop!" Drake barked.

Both Daphne and I froze in our tracks. I stared at my brother. Never had I heard him so...demanding.

"I'm so sorry, Becca." Daphne put her hand over her heart. "I never meant to deceive you."

"What do you mean?" I crossed my arms. "What is going on?"

"Come, Daphne," Drake said. "We must get ready. We've delayed long enough."

His voice was hard. Cold. Not at all like the brother I knew.

Daphne dipped her head and turned around. She took my brother's hand and followed him down the hallway towards the main club area. The echo of her heels clicking on the cement floor sounded so forlorn. The red beaded-barrier that separated the private rooms from the rest of the club tinkled into place as they pushed through. Then it was silent again.

Before I could speak, Malcolm guided me back down the hall. Once we were in the stairwell, he gripped my chin. His other hand was still on my upper-arm.

"Don't say a word until I am done." He stared into my eyes as he added, "Nod if you understand."

I obeyed, which was a little difficult with him holding my chin like he was.

"Drake and Daphne are preparing for a collaring ceremony."

I gasped, trying to pull free. A mantra of "No! No! No!" ran through my head as he pressed my back against the wall. I whimpered but stopped struggling. I lost my grip on my jacket and purse. I knew my whole body would follow them to the floor if he and the wall weren't holding me upright.

"I know this is difficult for you with what happened this summer. I didn't agree with letting you know. They should have done it after they had moved. I told them their timing sucks, too. You're still dealing with them leaving."

I closed my eyes. It was the only way I could retreat at the moment.

"But Drake wanted you here. You are his sister. You are the only family he has that knows of his involvement in this lifestyle. He wanted you to share in this celebration. Because that's what this is, even though you may not agree with the concept."

The coppery taste of blood touched my tongue as I bit my lip too hard. A hot tear trickled down my cheek. Was the rest of the evening just a ploy to get me here? Is that what Daphne had meant?

"Do you understand?"

I managed a weak nod.

"We will discuss this later between the two of us. You can pout. You can be angry. You can take it out on me even though it's not my decision. But right now, you are going to put a smile on your face and walk out there with me."

He pulled me into his arms, kissed my lips, and held my head to his shoulder. When he finally released me, I faltered. My hand managed to find the railing of the stairs, which helped, but my legs were still wobbly. I flinched as his fingers grazed my cheek while he arranged my hair over my shoulders. When I was apparently suitable, he picked up my jacket, offered me his other arm, and led me down the hall.

The once bouncing, multi-colored main room was dark. People were seated in folding chairs on the dance floor, facing the stage where the DJ was usually set up. An arrangement of candles lit up said stage instead. And standing amongst them was my brother, Drake, dressed in a loose black shirt and black pants.

Malcolm deposited my jacket and purse on an empty chair and guided me up the aisle between the two groupings of guests. Once we had reached a set of stairs leading up to the stage, he assisted me to two empty chairs situated just within the edge of the candlelight's reach.

I let out a soft whimper as he gestured for me to sit.

He squeezed my hand and waited until I had taken a seat before descending the stairs again.

I tried to glare at Drake, but his eye contact was focused out into the crowd. My heart was beating so fast and loud I was sure everyone there could hear it. I clenched my jaw and wrung my hands in my lap.

Why was he doing this? Wasn't his marriage enough? Was this what I had to look forward to with Malcolm if I stayed with him?

Slow, instrumental music with a heavy base filled the room suddenly. It was difficult to see with the lights so low, but I heard the audience stand up en masse. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to as well, but I caught the slight nod from my brother who had finally looked at me. I stood reluctantly.

After a very awkward moment—during which I regretted having come into the city at all—I saw my boyfriend walking my brother's wife down the aisle as if they were at a wedding.

Daphne had changed into a white strapless, flowing, knee-length dress and matching flats. As she got closer, I saw that she had pulled her hair up into a braided bun, revealing her neck, and her smile was wider than usual. In her right hand, she clutched something black to her chest like a bride carrying a bouquet, but I could not tell what the object was.

Malcolm escorted Daphne up the stairs to the stage and brought her to my brother's side. Drake bowed to Malcolm, and Malcom bowed to Drake. Malcolm put Daphne's free hand in Drake's, then he retrieved me and brought me to the middle of the stage where we faced the crowd.

"We would like to thank everyone for providing your support to Master Drake and Lady Daphne. For joining myself, Master Malcolm, and my partner and Master Drake's sister, Lady Becca, as witnesses to this collaring ceremony."

It took every ounce of strength to not cross my arms or scowl.

"Drake first met Daphne here at this club over two years ago during a munch when he was a guest of mine. They officially became a D/s couple a month later, and have only grown fuller within their relationship and the scene since then. Therefore, it is only fitting that they take the next step together here as well."

I swallowed the desire to object—could I even do that?—and concentrated instead on not doing anything like fainting or throwing up that would embarrass not only myself, but also my brother, as much as I despised him right now.

Malcolm continued to speak—relaying how he had met both Drake and Daphne, and his understanding of their commitments in regards to BDSM—but I didn't catch all of his words. My mind was still reeling from my knowledge of what being collared meant. My brother was proclaiming he would now own Daphne. That she would be his slave. She definitely 'belonged' to him now.

What had happened to "submission is mostly in the bedroom for us," as she had insisted all those times we'd talked? To most D/s couples, being a slave meant full-time obedience, both in and out of the bedroom as well as the house. Doing whatever the Dominant partner said without question. No longer having a matter of opinion. It was Jesse's world. Definitely not mine. And not my big brother's. Or so I had thought.

I blinked as Malcolm tugged on my arm so I would follow him to sit down. He grasped my hand in his once we were seated and held our intertwined fingers in his lap. My mouth was dry. My ears were ringing. It was surreal as I dragged my eyes back up to see that Daphne had removed her shoes, and my brother had helped her kneel before him on a white pillow.

After what must have been the kinky version of vows based on the few words they said that had slipped through the haze in my head, Drake retrieved an item from a small table. He held it up, facing Daphne. The candlelight glinted off the polished silver of the choker and attached ring.

"I present this collar to you, Lady Daphne. It symbolizes your willingness to accept a lifetime of complete submission and servitude to me."

A sudden wave of nausea crept up my throat as my brother bent down and fastened the collar around Daphne's neck.

She gave the object in her right hand to Drake, who held it up with both hands.

Malcolm stroked his thumb over the back of my hand, but it did nothing to quell the memories that flooded in. Of being chained to a wall. Led around like a dog. Tethered to a bed for hours so some sadistic man could dope me up and fuck me at his will.