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“Ah, Damon,” he said with a smile. “Please, come in. Sit down.”
As Damon came into the room, Anthony rose and stepped from behind his desk. He was elegantly dressed as usual, in a black cashmere sweater over gray trousers, Italian loafers on his feet. He waved Damon toward a conversational seating area that consisted of several chairs and a sofa. As Anthony slid into a chair, Damon took the seat across from him.
“Can I send for anything?” Anthony asked. “Coffee? Something to eat?”
“No, thanks,” Damon said. “I can’t stay long. I just wanted to stop by and thank you again for this amazing opportunity. Beyond your incredible hospitality, the past week has definitely been the most intense BDSM experience of my life. Ellen was amazing. She exceeded my expectations as a submissive. She taught me things I didn’t know I needed to learn.”
Anthony smiled. “I’m delighted to hear it. If I may ask, what did she teach you, exactly?”
“This whole no safeword thing. I didn’t get it at first.” Damon glanced away, still remorseful for how he’d missed Ellen’s cues that first time he had her in the stockade. Forcing his gaze back to Anthony, he continued, “I had this idea that, as a Dom, I could do whatever I wanted within negotiated limits. I always figured it was up to the sub to let me know if things got too intense by using her safeword.”
Anthony nodded. “Safewords are definitely useful, even essential, during casual scene play.” He fixed Damon with a penetrating gaze. “Reading between the lines, I’m guessing something might have happened, something that would have triggered a safeword in someone not trained as an Enclave slave?”
“Yeah,” Damon admitted. “I put her in a situation that pressed her boundaries. I knew she was having a hard time but I figured she’d stop the action with her safeword if things got too intense.”
“And that didn’t happen,” Anthony said, not asking but confirming.
“Right,” Damon admitted. “She was white-knuckling her way through it when it finally dawned on me that she wasn’t going to use her safeword, period. At first, I was pissed off that she’d let it go so far. But I’ve come to understand that removing that safety net isn’t just about the slave, but about the Master, too. Especially about the Master, if you get down to it. It puts the onus where it should be—squarely on his shoulders. It’s up to him to really pay attention—to be in tune with his submissive in a way I never experienced during scene play in the past. I think it has made me a better Dom. At least, I hope so.”
Anthony smiled. “I’m sure so.” He lifted a brow. “Where is Ellen now?”
“Oh, uh,” Damon said, looking around the office as if she might suddenly appear. “We said our goodbyes already. She disappeared down a set of stairs.”
“The slave quarters,” Anthony supplied. “That’s where our unattached staff slaves and trainees have their rooms.” He pulled out his cell from his trousers pocket. “I’ll let Jaime know she’s here. The two of them developed a rapport during Ellen’s time as a trainee.”
After tapping out a message, Anthony slipped the phone back into his pocket. “If it’s not too personal, what are your plans now? I mean, regarding Ellen?” There was definitely something fatherly in Anthony’s tone, reminding Damon uncomfortably of the dad of a girl he’d dated in high school who liked to pull him aside and drill him about “his intentions.”
“We left it kind of open-ended,” he replied vaguely. “Like I told you before, I’m super busy with my work right now. I haven’t taken an entire week off like this in… I don’t know how long.”
“I get it,” Anthony replied. “I did the same thing when I was young. I was way too busy and important to think about things like relationships,” he added with an ironic smile. “I was in finance. Working sixteen-hour days was standard practice. I made an obscene amount of money but had no time to enjoy it. Not to mention, I had no time for anything else, for what really matters—for love. I didn’t marry until later in life, and even then, I spent more time away from my wife than with her. We only had nine years together before she died, far too young, from ovarian cancer. I vowed then, if I ever found love again, that I wouldn’t take it for granted, not ever.”
He stroked the gold band on his ring finger and gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Even with such lofty promises to myself, it took me a while to figure out I was in love with Lucia, and she with me. I know I’m generalizing here, but we men tend to fear love because we’re not as brave as women, not as willing to open our hearts. Which is the ultimate travesty, since in the end, love is all there is.”
Anthony shook his head, chuckling. “Men can be incredibly dense when it comes to matters of the heart. Just ask any woman.”
“I’d rather not,” Damon said with a laugh. “Some questions are better left unanswered.”
Chapter 25
Thank goodness she made it down the stairs before she started to cry. There appeared to be no one in the slave quarters at the moment, for which she was glad. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this. Ellen had always prided herself on her self-control. All the other trainees in her group had broken down at least once over the course of the intensive Enclave training, but not Ellen. She knew how to handle her emotions. She could take whatever the Masters had dished out, bringing all her submissive grace to the fore.
But now that self-control was rapidly slipping away. She fell onto a sofa in the rest area and dropped her head into her hands as the dam broke. She sobbed in great, gulping breaths, shoulders heaving, tears and snot running down her face.
She’d thought something real was happening between them. Had she only been fooling herself all along?
His patronizing words in the car replayed in a loop in her head as she wept.
You deserve a Master who can dedicate himself to you, 24/7, and I sincerely hope you find him.”
He might as well have said, “Catch ya later. Have a nice life.” Because, clearly, that’s what he meant.
“Who knows? Maybe we’ll meet up at Lair Sade some time.”
“Well, fuck that, and fuck you, Damon Miller,” she blurted aloud between sobs.
The spurt of righteous anger felt better than the aching sorrow and she seized it like a lifeline.
Right up to the last minute, she’d actually believed, foolishly, stupidly, that Master Damon would realize that he’d made a terrible mistake. A week was a ridiculously short time together, especially given their powerful connection. Pulling her into his arms, he would explain between passionate kisses that he’d been a fool—nothing was more important than her and their burgeoning love…
