The Mask She Wears Read online

  "He was one of your mother's boyfriends?"

  Shocked, she met his calm gaze. “How did you know?"

  He shrugged. “It sounds like something a raping piece of shit would say. That's what it was, Catherine. Rape. Some people are into that, but not you. How old were you?"

  "Twelve."

  "Jesus.” It slipped out. He knew he shouldn't react, but his gut churned at the thought of twelve year old Catherine being raped.

  "He always touched my face.” She grimaced. “My mom thought he was the best substitute daddy ever.” Bitterness sliced through her tone. “I wanted to tell her, but..."

  "But your mom loved the guy?"

  She shrugged. “For a while. Then, after he was gone, it seemed pointless."

  "When did the mask come into it?"

  For the first time since she started to talk, her gaze met his. “I'm not a dom."

  "I know that."

  "But I won't be controlled like most subs. I set my own boundaries. No talking. No face touching. My hands bound so I can appease the sub in me. The mask made it easier to keep it from getting ... personal."

  "So you could disassociate from your partner and still get off.” Was he really that different? Hadn't he always kept emotional distance in his encounters too? Perhaps that's why he was so “talented” with anonymous submissives.

  "I want to be desired. That first guy told me I was undesirable. All the men in the last four years have been proving that wrong. But on my terms."

  "Until now."

  With a firm tug, she removed her fingers from his and dropped her head in her hands. “Yes."

  "So you used the mask to hide from the fear? That's not how it works, Catherine.” He wanted to touch her, reassure her somehow in contrast to his words, but he realized she didn't need that.

  "That's what David told me.” Her smile was weak.

  Justin had a moment where a red haze dropped over his eyes. He was jealous of David and angry at the man who damaged Catherine. His hands clenched into fists, and he hid them in his lap. Her gaze dropped to the table top again, and she continued. “He allowed me to practice my fetish with strict rules and suggested therapy, which I tried. It did help, but..."

  "But you still needed the mask."

  "I thought maybe it was like a shoe fetish or a rubber fetish. I didn't realize I was dependent on the mask.” Her golden brown gaze lifted from the barely eaten food on her plate and pinned him with a look that made his chest tighten. “Then we had sex, and you smashed through the barriers that protected me from risk of pain. And when I realized it was you, it frightened me to death.” She sat up straight and still. “I've lived for a long time believing I couldn't be close to a man, be intimate. I've protected myself from being hurt by keeping my distance. I couldn't keep my distance with you."

  "I wasn't trying to hurt you."

  "I know that. How could you have known?"

  "I want you. With or without the mask."

  Her eyes widened. “I'm not sure which it will be."

  "What do you want?"

  Her face twisted in pain, and she brushed her quivering lip with her hand. “I don't know."

  She didn't say she wanted him, but it was clear she wasn't sure what she wanted. “Catherine—” He covered her hand that rested on the table with his. He wanted physical contact to let her know he understood.

  A small sob escaped her as she wrenched her hand from under his and ran from the kitchen into her bedroom. He stared at that door a long time and fought the urge to kick it open. But wasn't that what started her withdrawal in the first place?

  Lack of choice had chased her into a mask and emotional isolation. If he tried to force her to want him, to be with him, he was no better than the man who hurt her in the first place. She had to come to him on her own terms. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. Her needs had become more important to him than his own.

  And wasn't that interesting.

  Pain ripped through his chest as Justin turned his back on her bedroom door and strode toward the exit. Shutting the front door behind him, he wondered if he was ruined for any other woman.

  Chapter Seven

  Justin stood outside David's front door, pondering his situation. Everything in him wanted to turn and walk away. Catherine hadn't called. She hadn't shown up at the café. Her silence was deafening.

  If he admitted the truth, he was deeply wounded, but he couldn't figure out why. He'd been rejected before. Had he said the wrong thing when she told him her story? Had he been too forceful?

  This was the first time in years he'd felt unsure of himself. In a dom, that was deadly. Worse was, when David called, requesting he attend the upcoming party, he hadn't thought twice about coming. How pathetic.

  He didn't want another sub. He didn't want to play tonight. Yet, here he was, hoping Catherine would be here, too. And then what? Would he stand by, helpless as David chose another anonymous partner for her? Could he do it? He shook his head. He knew he wouldn't. But the need to see her was greater than his fear of her rejection.

  He knocked on the door and squared his shoulders. He couldn't shake the depressing feeling that he was in for a boring evening. Or worse, a painful and devastating night.

  The party was jumping, and there were more guests than the previous two weeks. Two subs made eye contact with him. With resignation, he turned his back to leave when out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of hazel eyes, wild black hair and fabulous cleavage.

  Catherine. No mask. No hiding. No David anywhere in sight. At his direct glance, she lowered her eyes and assumed the submissive stance with clasped hands in front and bowed head.

  Justin blinked. She was offering herself as a sub. To him. She had to know what that meant. He would be in control. He could touch her face, force her to touch him. The gift she handed him was tremendous.

  Rather than touch her cheek, his usual indication of acceptance, he held out his hand. He saw a flash of green and brown as she peeked through her lashes up at him. Then her hand rested in his, and he led her toward the stairs.

  Stopping at the first step, he tipped her head up so he could meet her eyes. She needed a choice, but he wasn't going to settle for something less with her. He was the dom. She was the sub.

  "Catherine, are you sure?” He hardened his voice to give her a taste of what was to come.

  "Yes."

  "Yes what?” he demanded.

  Her eyes widened and then darkened as if his order turned her on. “Yes, Master."

  "Go to the bedroom we've used before.” He lifted her chin higher. “No restraints tonight, Catherine. Go there and wait for me.” Her pupils dilated, in fear this time, but the strength he admired glimmered there as well. Would she rely on the mask to maintain control? Would she truly play the sub?

  "Yes, Master."

  Her voice. Jesus, her voice. It was husky and sexy. He got hard just hearing her call him Master. And those eyes. He smiled. Maintaining control was going to be difficult. A challenge he was going to enjoy.

  His eyes were riveted to that sweet ass of hers swaying in the black leather miniskirt. She had on high heels that he wanted to see by her ears. She glanced back over her shoulder, and the fire in the depths of her eyes almost made him chase her down the hall. But he had to keep the upper hand. She wanted to play the sub but had always kept total control. Now, he would take that control from her. At least until she realized the joy that complete submission could bring. Then he would be at her mercy. He couldn't wait.

  A hand touched his elbow. “Don't prove me wrong."

  Justin tore his eyes away from her seductive, retreating figure. “What is she doing, David? She's not protected by the mask."

  "She's letting it go. I meant to do this slowly, but she wanted to jump in with both feet. Do you know what that means?"

  Justin nodded. “She doesn't know her own limits yet. Before she's ready, she'll have crossed them, and that could hurt her."

  "Very good. Psy
ch 101."

  Justin glanced back to the upper stairs. Catherine was risking so much to be with him, and he had to treat the gift with the reverence it deserved. This wasn't a sub to be broken. This was a sub to be cherished.

  Laughing, he laid a hand on David's shoulder. “She's the one for me, David. I'm not out to have a good time and walk away. I know what I'm getting into."

  The tension in David's muscles relaxed under Justin's hand, and his eyes grew suspiciously moist. “Make sure you get a safe word from her.” And the older man turned abruptly away.

  Still, as Justin climbed the stairs, he didn't know what he'd find. Obedience was one thing. Acceptance was something different. If he pushed her into a corner, it would only add to the damage she and others had done.

  He opened the bedroom door and found her just as he asked her to be. She was naked, unrestrained and unmasked. Her eyes were tightly closed, and she seemed anxious. He approached the bed before he made his first demand. Maybe the first and the last. It was up to her. “Open your eyes."

  Her eyes flew open. Fear clouded them until they were a muddy green, and she blinked rapidly. She stared at him, the heat between them flaring up as always.

  "What's your safe word, Catherine?"

  A quick glance at the two way mirror and back to Justin told him she hadn't thought about it. She'd come in here with no shields. The thought both angered him and excited him. She needed to know her limits. He waited patiently.

  "My safe word is mask."

  He nodded. “Come here and undress me.” Demand number two. These were huge steps for her, but she had to take them.

  Touch. She would have to hear and see and touch him. Reluctance was in every twist of her body when she rose off the bed and stood in front of him. Her hands shook as she undid the buttons of his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. She knelt down and undid his pants, awkwardly yanking them to the carpet.

  His breath hissed when she brushed her hand over his engorged cock as she slid his blue briefs down his thighs. Her hot breath caressed his penis.

  She looked up at him. “May I?” A whisper.

  Fuck yeah! Do it. Suck me. Damn it. Do it. “Yes, you may."

  Her eyes locked with his as she encircled the head of his cock with her mouth. She ran her tongue up and down the length. She moaned, and the vibrations almost had him coming in her mouth. With one hand, he shoved against her shoulder and broke contact.

  On her knees, she waited. The sweet mouth that had been denied him was his. All his.

  "Kiss me,” he growled, the desire to have her, all of her, almost overwhelming.

  She stood, and her breasts brushed his chest. Her hands cupped his face, and she pressed her lips to his. He stayed still while she explored his lips with hers. Then, he opened his mouth and stroked her lips with his tongue. She jerked in response and wrapped her arms around him to get closer.

  When their tongues touched, she moaned and rubbed her body along his, seeking the touch she long denied them both. He obliged, his hands kneading her sweet bottom. He groaned against her mouth. Her hands tangled in his hair, and she hung on, causing his scalp to tingle.

  He broke the kiss, breathing heavily. “Slow down, honey. We need to take this slow."

  The last word was a groan as one of her hands let go of his hair to grip his cock and stroke him with a strong tug. He maneuvered her to the side of the bed and gritted his teeth against the need to plunge into her, to brand her.

  As gently as he could, he pressed her down onto the mattress until she was laid out in front of him like a tasty treat. There was no fear in her eyes now, only desperate need. He grasped her wandering fingers and held them over her head with one hand around her wrists. He kissed her cheeks, her ears, her neck, and she arched against him.

  "You're so beautiful. There's no one as sexy as you are. You drive me crazy.” His whispered words poured from him against her ear, and she twisted beneath him, sliding her wetness along his thigh.

  Her own whispers penetrated his clouded brain. “I want you. I need you. Please, touch me. Please."

  He went still. “Where? Tell me where to touch you."

  Her eyes met his. Trust, need, desire all swirled in their green depths. “Pull my hair. Kiss me. Touch me everywhere. And don't stop talking. Please."

  The permission to do all the things she'd kept from him sent him over the edge of reason. He released her wrists and plunged his hands in her hair, lifting her face to his. Covering her with his body, every point of contact a raging fire, he kissed her hard.

  Justin dominated her, demanded her response and to his joy, she gave it. Arching her back, she scraped along the length of his cock, trailing her sticky response over him. The smell of her juices and the softness of her hair combined to unleash his passion until he was crushing her against him, pressing his cock against her entrance. She gushed over him and groaned.

  Who was in control at that point, he didn't know or care. He planted his feet on the floor, and his hands still dug into her hips as he gazed at her. Her eyes were half open, glazed over with a sexy, burning desire. A flush covered her neck and breasts.

  He released her long enough to slide on a condom with trembling fingers, and then he grabbed her, cupping her neck with his hand and kissing her long and deep. She was wild in his arms, twisting and writhing.

  With her hips on the edge of the bed, he plunged inside her hot, tight channel and kept his eyes on her face as she screamed with pleasure. He stroked her sensitive walls, and she strained to meet every thrust. With one hand twisted in her hair so he could see every emotion on her face, his other hand sought her clit and stroked that nub until her muscles clenched around him. She cried out louder, but he gave her no respite.

  "Again. Again. Again.” He chanted as he slammed into her. He couldn't get enough.

  This time, her orgasm rushed over him, the ecstatic expression on her face and her keening cry sent him into oblivion. He buried himself deep within her one last time and found his own release.

  As his world righted itself, he lowered his forehead to rest upon hers. Her fingers brushed his face like feathers. He stroked her hair, reveling in the sensation of touching her smooth cheek.

  "I wasn't afraid of you.” Her eyes were wide and dark green. The wonder in her voice was almost innocent.

  "Were you before?"

  "I was terrified of everyone. You talked to me, and it only made me want you more. You touched me, and I wasn't afraid."

  "I care about you. You know that somehow."

  She nodded. “Yes, I do."

  "Then you know I'm not out for a quick fuck."

  For the first time since he entered the room, she seemed uncertain. “I do, but I—"

  He laid two fingers over her lips. “Don't say any more. This is all strange to you. You need time to get used to it.” God, he hated what he had to do next, but for her sake, he had to do it.

  Rolling off of her before he changed his mind, he began picking up his clothes. “I'm going to San Francisco for a while. I'll be back in two weeks. If you're here the Saturday night I return, you'll know what I'm looking for. If you want to try it, you can present yourself to me then."

  She stood in front of him, naked, confused. He placed his hand beneath her chin. “You've just discovered something amazing about yourself, but I want more than a good time, Catherine. I won't share you. In two weeks, you'll know whether I'm enough for you."

  It was the only way. He knew what he wanted, but she needed to know what she wanted. He wanted all or nothing.

  Chapter Eight

  The next two weeks seemed to go on forever. Catherine was filled with happiness that she had broken through her own barriers. She was so excited that she wanted to share it with everyone, but mostly with Justin. Jealousy reared its ugly head when she thought about him with another woman in San Francisco. She knew there were BDSM clubs there and willing subs with much less baggage.

  Adjusting to her new sexuality without the one p
artner she wanted was intolerable. Then, three days before the two weeks were over, it hit her.

  She loved him. Passionately, without question, without reservation.

  Did he love her?

  She alternately thought he might and plunged into despair when she convinced herself he didn't.

  David was a good friend, mostly just listening. Finally, he said, “He knows what this meant for you, honey. You've discovered your true sexuality, not one dominated by fear and a horrible sexual experience. He wants you to feel comfortable with it."

  Frustration seared her brain. “I still don't understand. I took the mask off. I became the submissive I truly am."

  "But you don't know your limits. What kind of submissive are you? How far are you willing to go? These are things you haven't had to deal with. Wearing the mask gave you protection from having to stand up and say ‘Enough!'” He thrust his hand through his hair. “In a way, I did you no favors by helping you do this."

  She reached out and touched his arm. “I had to start this way, David. I would have gone crazy if you hadn't helped me back then."

  "He gave you no requirements, you realize that. He essentially gave you permission to sleep with someone else if that's what you have to do.” He shook his head. “That's an amazing gift from a dom of his type."

  "Because he thinks I belong to him?"

  "No, kiddo, because he completely belongs to you."

  * * * *

  It was no challenge for Catherine at all. She wasn't going to sleep with another dom. She loved Justin and she wanted to figure out her limits with him and no one else.

  On Saturday night, she dressed a little differently. Instead of the black leather and sexy stockings, she wore a soft green silk mini skirt and a matching blouse with a plunging neckline. She still wore the high heels, but her outfit and her demeanor would indicate she was a taken sub and not up for grabs. It was a subtle message, but one most of the party goers would understand.

  She knew the moment he entered the room. Her breath caught, and she drank him in. God, he was gorgeous. Black hair, blue eyes, tall, big hands and a gorgeous body. But she also registered the dark shadows under his eyes and the tension around his mouth. Relief flooded her system. He'd missed her.