Claiming Cleo (Masters Club 2)

During the spanking, Cleo went through the various phases of coping. First the thrill of erotic suffering, then the mounting difficulty as she struggled to control herself, the temporary loss of that control as she wriggled and yelped, and finally, true submissive acceptance.

Jack continued until every muscle in her body had loosened, her breath now coming slow and even, her surrender complete. Only then did he ease the intensity. He sensed that her spirit was now soaring somewhere in submissive space. Leaving her to drift, he lightly stroked and soothed her heated skin with a butterfly wing’s touch. Even in the midst of his uncertainty, he couldn’t help but be in awe of her submissive grace.

Eventually, he lifted her from his lap and laid her gently on her back against the pillows. She kept her eyes closed, which gave him a chance to study her face. She now wore a peaceful, dreamy expression, her sensual mouth curved in a small, secret smile.

Leaning over her, he stroked a long tendril of silky hair from her cheek, tucking it gently behind one perfect seashell ear. “Cleo, can you hear me?” he asked softly.

“Mhm,” she murmured, not opening her eyes.

“There are some things I need to tell you.”

He felt her stiffen, just a little, though she kept her eyes closed. He placed a hand lightly on her collarbone to keep her centered, his fingers just grazing her throat. He could feel the slow, even beat of her heart. The spanking had definitely calmed her, which was a good thing.

Gathering his thoughts, Jack said, “True confession time on my part. I didn’t come to the States on business. I came expressly to see you, Cleo.”

Cleo’s large, expressive blue eyes popped open, fixing on him.

He nodded at her unspoken question. “I only said that about business so I wouldn’t freak you out. I wanted to find out if there was anything between us, or if I’d just made it up in my loneliness. I should have been more direct. That stupid letter was supposed to be a test of the waters. When you didn’t answer, I suppose I should have taken that as my dismissal.”

He offered a sheepish grin. “I’ve never been good at taking hints. And the truth was, I didn’t want to give up.” He paused a moment, girding his courage.“I need to be honest here—full disclosure. When I came back to the Masters Club after my long hiatus, I wasn’t just looking to have my dominant itch scratched. Even in the middle of my darkest grief, you, Cleo, were this small, bright light inside my soul.”

He hurried on, not giving her a chance to speak; afraid he’d lose his nerve. “While Annette was alive, I couldn’t give that light a chance to burn brighter. My love and allegiance were for my wife. But I can’t deny the strong feelings I had for you, even when she was alive.”

Cleo’s lips parted, as if she wanted to speak. Jack shook his head, placing two fingers lightly over her lips. “Shh,” he said. “Don’t say anything. Not yet.”

With a minute nod, she pressed her lips together beneath his fingers. Resisting the urge to bend down and kiss her, Jack continued, “When we scened again, this time without Annette, I had expected to feel a hole where she had been. But it wasn’t there, Cleo. While I’ll always love Annette, I sensed then that her spirit was gone. In a way, it made me grieve all over again. Then I felt guilty. How could I, less than a year after Annette’s passing, feel so attracted, so connected to another woman—to you?”

He sighed, thinking how badly he’d bungled everything. He’d been so focused on his own grief and guilt that he didn’t properly take into account how his actions might have affected Cleo.

But he’d promised full disclosure, and he wasn’t going to stop now. “That’s why I scened with the other pleasure subs. I felt disloyal to the memory of Annette, because of my growing feelings for you. Instead of dealing with it like a grown-up, I denied what I was feeling, or deliberately ignored it.”

He ran his hands through his hair and rubbed his face, as if he could wash away the regret. “I told myself that all I could handle at that point was the physical connection between Dom and sub. That was the whole point of the club for me when we first joined. It was a way to further indulge in my dominant needs without any emotional entanglements getting in the way. The setup was obviously ideal when Annette was part of the equation, as it allowed us to scene with people who understood the predetermined limits of a Masters Club scene. Once I returned alone, I figured I’d continue with that behavior. I’d keep things light and impersonal until I felt ready, at some indeterminate point in the future, to kindle an emotional connection with another woman. But before I could get my stupid act together, you had vanished. Gone, without a trace.”