Chapter 10

CHAPTER10

Started? Did that mean they hadn’t started yet? The idea that what they’d already done was only a prequel sent a pleasant shiver through her body.

He frowned. “Are you cold?”

“What? Oh, no. Actually it’s a lot warmer now. Did you turn up the heat?”

“Something like that.” His hand slid down her arm and caught her elbow. “Come, let me show you the closet.”

This whole place to show off and he was taking her to the closet? But closet didn’t really describe the full-size room he pulled her into. It looked more like a fancy store than a bedroom closet. There were no words.

“What do you think? All the best designers, even some original pieces. The drawers have accessories and jewelry. I’m—” He paused. “Well, I’m not actually sure what else is in here, but I’m sure it’s everything you need.”

She took a few steps forward and his hand dropped away to let her move. Everything sparkled and shimmered. There were gowns of every color and style. Rows of matching shoes and bags too. “Um… are we going to a lot of fancy parties where you need arm candy?”

“Parties? No. To be honest human events are a little overwhelming and it will be a while before I can take you back to the mortal world anyway.” He looked a bit evasive when he said the last part.

She filed that away to think about later when she had time. “So, why all the expensive gowns?” She moved over to the nearest rack and grabbed a floor-length dress in pure white to show him. “I mean, where am I meant to wear this?”

A flash of discomfort, she might almost have called it embarrassment if he didn’t seem so completely self-assured all the time, crossed his face. “I thought you might just enjoy having them. I promised you the best of everything and these are the best.”

She drew in a deep breath and slowly counted to ten. “They’re wonderful, and gorgeous, but they aren’t the kinds of things you wear to sit around and watch tv, Krampus dude.”

His eyes narrowed. “Krampus is my title. Master is what you will call me. Dude is never acceptable.”

She was still having trouble with the Master thing and had mostly gotten by with not calling him anything at all. “Okay, ‘Master’ then. You can’t give me a closet full of impractical clothes, valued at… I honestly don’t even know, and then expect me to sit around in them.”

He seemed confused and a little miffed. “You don’t like them then?” It was like he’d been smacked in the face by a reality that didn’t match his expectations.

She kind of understood how that felt because her reality had crashed into his fantasy world, and it was pretty disorienting on her end too. “I love them. I just have no place to wear them. These are for dressing up and going out to exciting events. Where are the regular clothes?”

She’d noticed the same problem with the suitcase he’d left her. She hadn’t been able to resist trying everything on, but other than that, most had been too expensive to do anything with. They’d sat in her drawers. Master was… out of touch with how the world worked.

“I—oh.” He sounded off-center. “You don’t have to worry about ruining them. I’ll buy you more.”

She stared at him. “Does this look even remotely comfortable to wear casually?” She waved the dress in his face and the diaphanous layers fluttered around him. “Am I going to fry bacon wearing it? Swim maybe? What movies have you been watching anyway?”

He took the dress from her and put it back on the rack with a little more emphasis than necessary. “I see your point.” The tone was stiff and formal. “I assumed you’d enjoy having them. I’ll replace it all.”

It occurred to her that she might have hurt his feelings. He didn’t show it in his expression, but there was an undertone. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be difficult. These clothes are more beautiful than anything I’ve ever owned, but—”

She hesitated, trying to think of a way to explain it better. “Designers only tend to care about how things look. So fancy clothes like this are usually really uncomfortable and impractical. You’re not supposed to do anything except stand around when you wear them.”

His brow was still furrowed. “I’ve seen women in similar clothes, and they always looked like they were enjoying it.”

Aline shrugged. “They were probably enjoying being looked at. Here, let me show you something.” She hunted through the racks, shoving expensive fabric left and right until she pulled out a deep blue gown of velvet. It was sprinkled with diamonds—real for all she knew.

“Look how heavy this is.” She shoved it into his arms. “That’s like twenty pounds of fabric and it’s so stiff you won’t even be able to sit easily. See the corset waist? You’re supposed to cinch that tight to give yourself an hourglass figure, but that restricts your moving, even your breathing sometimes.”

She only knew all of that from watching design shows. She’d never held such an expensive dress in her hands before. But she knew fashion triumphed over function every time with designers.

Master just stared at her. “Then why does anyone buy them?”

She shrugged. “They’re pretty.”

Two fingers rubbed his temples on each side of his face. “Okay, obviously I’m not quite as aware of human fashions as I thought. I’ll get rid of all of it and replace it with…” He trailed off, frowning. “You’ll have to tell me what you want.”

“I’ll make you a list, but um… don’t get rid of all of this.”

“But I thought you said—”

“I know. They aren’t for lounging around in, but a girl does like to feel pretty now and then. Maybe we could have date nights sometimes, and I can dress up.” She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks and she looked away. “I mean you said you wanted me to be your wife. So, there should be romance, not just sex. That means dates right?”

Master struggled to keep a neutral expression. “Oh.” He cleared his throat and hurried to add, “I mean, yes, of course. Dates are essential for building affection. We’ll definitely be planning some of those.” It sounded like he was quoting some old book on courtship, but she doubted dates had been part of his original plan.

“I know it won’t be the same as going out, but I’m sure you’ve got a fancy dining room around here somewhere. We can pretend,” she suggested.

He pulled himself together. “You won’t need to pretend. Once you understand my—our home a little better, you’ll see that date nights won’t be an issue.” He looked around the closet. “Since you want to keep these, I’ll just make space for more comfortable clothing.”

The closet, already big enough to hold a small party in, suddenly wavered and then seemed to stretch. The rippling movement made her queasy and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the walls had moved much further back, and it appeared to have doubled in size.

Drugs or magic, it had to be one or the other.

“Is that enough room?”

“Um. Yeah. You could house three whole families from my building in here and they wouldn’t even have to talk to each other, so I think you’ll be able to fit in some jeans and t-shirts.”

“Excellent. I’ll stock the extra space with whatever you need tomorrow, and you can give me a list of anything else you need.” He didn’t seem to have understood her sarcasm. A second later he turned and moved over to the wall, saying, “Come look at these.”

He pulled open a drawer. Inside it was lined with black velvet, and gems of all colors sparkled in an array of jewelry. She’d been on a tour of the Kremlin once, to see the crown jewels with her class, and this collection wouldn’t have been out of place in that exhibit.

Her hands trembled as she reached out to touch, and then couldn’t quite make herself do it. “Are these… real?”

“Of course. I wasn’t sure if you had a color or style preference so it’s just an assortment.” It was so casual, as if he hadn’t just presented her with a fortune.

“I—” She stopped and took a deep breath to calm herself. “I can honestly say I don’t have a preference for jewelry.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll develop some over time. You have lots of choices anyway.”

He looked at her expectantly, and she realized he was trying really hard to make her happy. The fact that he was clueless about what she wanted and needed was beside the point. He didn’t have to make any of this as nice as he had, and she was grateful.

She smiled. “Thank you. I mean you’ve already done way more than I had expected. Really, it’s all… wonderful.” It was actually starting to make her uncomfortable at this point. She just wasn’t used to such ostentatious displays of wealth.

There was a loosening of his shoulders and his expression relaxed. “I want you to be happy here.” He said want, but his tone made it clear that this was a need.

“I appreciate that, but um, why?”

He blinked. “Why?”

“Yeah, I mean, we made a deal. You’re keeping your part of it, so I have to stay whether I like it or not. You can’t make a deal with the devil and then change your mind, right? My happiness wasn’t part of the agreement, but you’re going out of your way to make everything perfect for me. I just want to know why.”

The silence stretched out between them until she wondered if he was going to answer at all. “Is it so odd that I’d want my mate to be happy? Isn’t that what relationships are about?”

She snorted. “You don’t know much about marriage, do you?”

“I suppose I don’t. I’ve never had a mate before.” He slid the jewelry drawer shut, and changed the subject. “Why don’t we do the rest of the tour tomorrow,” he suggested. “You must be tired.”

As soon as he said it, she yawned. Come to think of it, she was pretty exhausted, both mentally and physically. It had been a long day full of too many surprises. “Okay, but don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re hiding things from me. I want to know everything and I’m not going to forget.”

His mouth quirked up at one corner. “I’m sure you won’t. You’re nothing if not tenacious, but that’s part of a longer conversation and I’d like to wait until you settle in.” He left the closet, and she followed him back into the bedroom.

It really was a beautiful setting. The bed was huge, a king at least, and old-fashioned with a canopy. The polished wood posts gleamed against the heavy velvet curtains, and she couldn’t resist running her palm over the smooth wood, until she felt something cold brush against her hand. She pushed the curtain back to see.

She tilted her head and then half-turned to look at him. “What are the hooks for?”

“Can’t you guess?” One eyebrow went up, as if daring her.

It was his expression, more than anything, that clued her in. “Oh.” Bondage. Right, of course. Why wouldn’t a sadist with a punishment kink have eyebolts in the bedpost for bondage.

He laughed and moved over to the foot of the bed. There was a matching cushioned bench there and he pointed to it. “Kneel here.”

She squinted, and then slowly moved over. One minute he was suggesting she was tired, the next he was… what? Wanting to tie her up?

But she was curious in spite of herself, and her clit, which had finally given up on getting any action while they were in the closet, suddenly came to life with a demanding pulse. It occurred to her that if she obeyed, he might change his mind on the orgasm issue, so she knelt on the bench as directed. “Like this?”

He stepped behind her, his hands went around her waist, and he gently guided her to the left, and forward a couple of inches. His hands slid down to her thighs and tapped. “Spread your legs a little more.”

She inched her knees apart, and then some more when he tapped again. She wished the robe would disappear. She wanted to feel his hands on her skin, wanted to feel his fingers between her thighs. If he knew how wet she was, maybe he’d give her what she needed.

“Now reach up. See where the hooks are? You can put your hands right there.”

It was a bit of a stretch, but she managed. As she leaned forward and settled her palms flat on the posts, he moved a hand under the robe, lightly stroking her ass. A soft whimper escaped as she pushed back into his hands.

“How does this position make you feel? Can you imagine your hands being cuffed there, leaving you helpless?” His palms coasted around to the front and down to the nest of damp curls that covered her pussy lips.

“Y-yes. What would you do to me?” she asked, waiting breathlessly for details.

“Anything I like. Maybe I’ll fuck you from behind. Maybe I’ll whip your ass until you sob and plead for me to stop. Maybe… I’ll just leave you there as a decoration, while I lie on the bed and watch you. So many possibilities.”

A finger pressed between her lower lips, parting them as the pad found her clit and began to circle. She cried out and her hips canted, pushing her pussy into his hand. “Please… that feels so good. Please don’t stop.”

He chuckled, and she knew what he was going to do.

She held back the curse and begged instead, promising not to be stubborn, to be good, if he would only…

But just as she was about to reach her peak, just as all the warmth coiling low inside of her was about to explode and send her floating… he stopped. “Bad girls don’t get to come. Tomorrow, maybe.” He pulled his hand away and patted the side of her thigh.

She couldn’t help the frustrated shriek that exploded from her. The fact that it made him laugh didn’t help at all. “You’re so mean,” she said, dropping her arms and turning to glare at him.

“I can be, but you haven’t seen mean yet. This… this is just foreplay. When I do finally let you come, it will be worth the wait. You can get down now.”

Maybe he was right about the delayed gratification, but if he thought she wasn’t going to wait until he was asleep so she could take care of the problem herself, he was crazy. She’d been brought right to the edge at least three times, maybe four and then not allowed to come. At this point she didn’t care what the punishment was, she was going to get there no matter what.

He left her there and moved to open the door of a large armoire next to the bed. She didn’t remember seeing it there before, but the bed had taken most of her attention. She watched with interest and then, when she couldn’t see what was inside, she followed him over.

Her eyes widened as she saw row after row of spanking, whipping, and flogging implements all hanging neatly from hooks. “Wow, you have a whole dungeon in here,” she blurted.

He snorted. “The real dungeon has harsher tools. You wouldn’t enjoy them. I do have a playroom set up for us to explore later though. These are just for fun and light discipline.”

She looked closer and winced. His idea of light discipline and hers seemed very different. Some of the paddles looked like they’d leave her standing for days. There were leather pieces that made her cringe just to see them. She couldn’t even imagine what they’d feel like.

“Are we going to um…” she trailed off, not quite able to make herself ask.

“Am I going to play with you some more? No, I like your eagerness, but you look tired. I’m going to put you to bed so you can be well rested for tomorrow.” He dug around in a box and pulled out an odd-looking pair of padded gloves—mittens really, since there were no fingers.

“Then what’s that for?” She jerked her chin at what he was holding.

The grin that spread across his face made her very nervous, and she was right to be.

A few minutes later she was settled naked in the bed, with a pout on her lips. Her hands were encased in the mittens and locked together at the wrists. The padding was too bulky to allow her to get the slightest bit of friction to where she needed it the most.

Worst of all her clit was throbbing frantically, as if actually enjoying more denial. It was ridiculous and she mumbled a lot of angry things under her breath. He was awful. She hated everything. She wished she hadn’t made the deal.

Of course, she didn’t mean any of it, and he didn’t seem to take it seriously. In fact, he looked amused. “I’m doing this for your own good. You really won’t like the punishment, and I’m saving you from yourself, so you can get some lighter experience before you decide to jump in over your head.

“This sucks,” she grumbled.

“Mhm.” He pulled the covers over her. “Goodnight, zaychik. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She sat up. “Wait! You’re not staying? But…”

“Krampus doesn’t sleep much. We can, but it’s really not necessary. Since we wouldn’t be doing anything but resting, there’s really no point to—”

“I want—” She cut herself off, frowned, and tried again. “I want you to stay though. I thought I was your wife, mate, I mean. Whatever.”

“You are, or at least you will be.”

“Well, couples sleep together, usually. So, you should stay and sleep with me.” She didn’t want to be alone in this scary new place. There was also a slight chance that maybe if they were in bed together, he would give in and fuck her.

He sighed, hesitated, and then nodded. “Fine, I’ll stay. Move over.” He started to get in, on top of the covers.

“No, underneath with me,” she said, flipping the heavy coverings back to make a space for him.

His eyes narrowed, but he slid in between the silk sheets. “Happy?”

“No, I want to snuggle.”

“Snuggle.” He repeated the word in a flat tone.

“Yes, like couples do. It’s a way to bond, and uh—” How had he phrased it? “—grow affection.”

He stared at her for several long seconds and then he held out his arms to her. The cuddling was stiff and awkward at first. Both of them shifted and turned until finally things just clicked, and they fit together.

She was curled on her side, with her backside nestled against his crotch. It wasn’t perfect. He was still dressed, while she was naked, so it wasn’t as comfortable as it might have been, but it felt… nice. Safe.

It also became obvious that she wasn’t the only one turned on. The hot bulge she was pressed against proved that. She wiggled back into him purposely, and he groaned. “Stop.”

“Stop what?” she asked in her most innocent voice.

He rewarded her with a sharp slap to her thigh. “Stop moving, or do you want me to take your mouth again, before you sleep? I have no intention of suffering just because you’re being punished.”

Aline made a small hmph-ing sound but stopped moving. She was tired and had no doubt he meant exactly what he said. At least she could feel somewhat satisfied knowing that he was equally frustrated by her punishment.

It didn’t do much to soothe her raging hormones. Her clit demanded attention with the occasional hungry pulse. The insides of her thighs were still slick too, and none of that made it easy to sleep.

But he couldn’t have been all that comfortable with a raging hardon either. It was something anyway.