Page 108 of Axe Marks the Spot

“What about it excites you?”

“I—” She stops and thinks for a second. “I like the idea of being owned by you.”

“I already own you, Lindsey.” I pull her necklace gently and seal my lips over hers. She squeaks in surprise, and I dominate her mouth, tangling our tongues together. She submits to the kiss easily. My pulse bangs in my throat at the fact that I just told her I own her, that it truly feels like I do. She is my submissive, we do have an agreement, but owning her, truly owning her—that’s much more. It goes beyond a training collar and doing a scene with a leash. We will have to talk about it later, but for now, the idea of it clearly excites us both.

I rest my forehead against hers, my fingers still gripping the chain. Her breath puffs against my lips, and eventually, I lean away from the intoxicating scent of her floral perfume and the sweat of her skin. Her eyes stare up, wide and no longer glassy.

I release the necklace and inhale a breath before barking my next command. “On your hands and knees, baby. Then follow me like the good girl I know you are.”

33

Lindsey

FOR THE SECOND TIME tonight, I’m crawling. It’s easier than the first time but different. This time, I’m following him like a pet follows its owner. And not only did I ask to use my mouth to make him come as my reward, but I admitted I’d accept a training collar and maybe a leash, too?

Who am I, and where did Lindsey Clark go?

The only thing I can think of right now is that I’ve changed. Or maybe this is who I’ve always wanted to be, and I needed to meet Dane to open my eyes.

For years now, I’ve simply gone through the motions, and in the last year, I’ve been trying to keep my head above water. I’ve been so focused on work, caring for Kas, and dealing with Jeremy’s bullshit that I’ve lost me—or maybe I’ve never been able to find out who I was in the first place.

Jeremy and I got together when we were in our twenties, and during that time, I was focusing on my career and him. Then after we had Kas, my attention was on raising her and my career, plus always trying to please Jeremy, who was unpleasable. Not like Dane, my Sir. He makes me feel like the smallest things I do make him happy, and I haven’t even known him for a month.

Sir stops walking, and I’m so focused on my thoughts, I almost run into the backs of his legs. He turns and takes a seat in his recliner, the one I recognize from our video calls. My stomach jumps in anticipation of what’s to come. I’ve been wanting this, to please him in this way—so much so that I chose it over my own reward.

It’s once again an interesting realization, because I would have never offered something like this to Jeremy. He might have liked it, but I would have pretended I had cramps or sickness to avoid giving him a blow job. Not with Dane.

“Get in your kneeling position,” he commands as he takes a pillow from behind his back and places it in front of him on the floor. “But place your hands palms down on my knees.”

I do as he asks, moving so my knees are on the pillow before I sit back on my haunches and spread my legs the way he showed me. When my ass smarts from the sore skin touching the backs of my legs, I must give myself away somehow, because Sir grins. I bite the inside of my cheek, not giving him the satisfaction of cringing. He must realize what I’m doing because his chest gently shakes, but I stay strong.

When I’m settled, his gaze drops down my body, over my clamped nipples to my stomach with my dress still rucked around it, then to my spread legs. There’s no underwear to hide my pussy from him now—or should I say his cunt. It’s a vulnerable position, but not any more vulnerable than the other positions he’s had me in already.

He’s also touched me intimately; his finger has been inside me. Trying to close my legs now would be silly. Not that I’d want to, because he’s eyeing me as if he wants to devour me.

He’s done it all night, and while it’s intense, I like it. It makes me feel desired and wanted, a feeling that’s foreign to me. In a lot of ways, it reminds me how Fox looks at Morgan and Nathan, as if they’re his. As if they’re treasured. And I know they both are.

Dane did say he owns you. He also mentioned a training collar, which I said I’d accept. From my research and our brief talk, I know it can be a big deal for some, and when we’re not in a scene, I want to ask him what that means for our future.

I swallow to wet my dry mouth and place my hands on his knees, knowing I have time to think about that later. I want to be in this scene with him now. Completely.

“Comfortable?” his deep voice asks with a lilt of playfulness.

“Yes, Sir.” As comfortable as I can be on my knees with my dress around my waist, nipples pinched and weighted by the clamps, and my ass on fire. But I really am fine. I’m finding I like the pain, more than I imagined I would. I see why all the submissive forums I looked at online often talked fondly of being spanked or reprimanded. How they like the pain their Dom inflicts because it reminds them not only of their Dom but also to be good. To submit.

Sir places his forearms on the arms of his recliner, leaning back with ease. Somehow, his aura remains strong even though he’s relaxed, as if he’s the king and I am his servant at his feet—and a willing one, at that.

“Tell me, Lindsey: How many times have you imagined being in this position?”

“Many, Sir,” I reply.

“And in that imagination of yours, what did you do?”

I clear my throat. I’m not used to talking this much before a blow job. Jeremy didn’t like talking while we were having sex. During oral, he’d just sort of lay there, and oftentimes, he’d take so long to come, it felt like a chore. It left me feeling unattractive and useless, like I was bad at them.

The confidence I was feeling a moment ago evaporates. “Lindsey.”

My name draws my gaze up, and I realize I was looking down during my gross memory. “Yes, Sir?”