Page 117 of Their Famous Dominant (Office Intrigue Duet 4)
“You’re looking for a submissive you can punish,” I told him. “Is that it? You want me to defy you so you can punish me? Well, I’m not that submissive. I will never do anything to earn your punishment.”
“You already have, sunshine.”
My eyes widened. It wasn’t what he said but the way he said it. “What does that mean?”
“You’ve defied me all night long.”
“What?” I tried to pull away, but he didn’t let me get far. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Tell me one of your hard limits, Clarissa,” he commanded, his voice dropping another octave.
The man was going to give me whiplash with his constant subject changes. “I don’t have any,” I admitted.
“None whatsoever?”
“No.”
“Not a single one?”
“No.” God, was he dense? “I trust the Doms I play with.”
He barked a laugh. “You trust me implicitly? You trust that I know everything that goes on in your pretty little head? All your worries, your fears? That I just know what not to do when it comes to playing with you?”
“It’s about pushing boundaries,” I told him. “I don’t expect it to always be comfortable.”
“All right.” He relaxed slightly, leaning back on the sofa.
How could he be so calm? I was fuming from the inside out and he seemed unfazed.
“I’ve actually got several Doms waiting downstairs,” he continued. “I told them we were going to share you tonight. Since it’s not one of your hard limits, you won’t mind if I have them take turns with you then?”
The thought was horrifying and this time I did jump up from his lap, desperate to put several feet between us. “That’s disgusting,” I hissed. “I don’t have any desire to be fucked by a bunch of Doms.”
“No?” He didn’t seem convinced. “It’s not one of your hard limits. I figured it was a safe bet.”
This man was crazy. “I’m looking for a Dom who wants me. Not one who shares with his friends. Clearly, we don’t want the same thing.”
“How would I know that? You didn’t list it and you damn sure don’t talk to me.” He spoke as though he wasn’t at all affected by my outburst. “After that, I’ve asked a couple of submissives to stay behind because I want to watch you fuck them with a strap-on.”
That was even worse. “You’re disgusting. That’s not what a Dom does.”
Trent was suddenly on his feet, his hand in my hair as he tugged my head back and forced me to look up into his face. He wasn’t hurting me, per se, but for a moment, I was stunned silent. His eyes were so hard, so intent it was all I could do to maintain eye contact.
His voice was significantly lower when he spoke. “So, as long as you’re not ordered to do something you don’t want to do, there are no hard limits? Is that how it works?”
I couldn’t speak. The sheer disappointment on his face stole my breath. “I didn’t say that.”
“But you did. If I wanted to share you with every fucking Dom in this place, you would defy me. Because it isn’t what you want. And if I asked you to strap on a fake dick and fuck some submissives, you would run out the door.”
“I don’t want those things,” I admitted.
“Neither do I. But I would’ve never known because you claim you have no hard limits. There’s no one downstairs, Clarissa. And the thought of sharing you with anyone who isn’t Troy has never crossed my mind. But I think you get my point.”
I swallowed hard as the reality of what he was saying hit me.
I wasn’t a submissive. I was a failure. It was the reason no Dom had ever truly wanted me. They’d played with me because I was convenient, but none had ever wanted anything other than to share a couple of scenes at the club.
Was that why he didn’t stay in bed with me? Had I failed him on those occasions, too? Was he eager to put distance between us?
What was I even doing? I shouldn’t be here.
When Trent released my hair, I stood up straight. “I need to go home,” I insisted.
“Clarissa…”
“No,” I snapped. It was that or cry. And I would not cry. “We’re done here. Clearly, I can’t be what you need; therefore I see no reason in continuing this.”
For a second, I thought he would argue, tell me I was wrong, but his expression went blank instead. “Fine. Go get dressed and I’ll have Troy take you home.”
“Zeke can take me home,” I demanded.
His face pinched. “I said I would have Troy take you home. Quit fucking arguing with me, Clarissa.”
I stared at him, my heart breaking in two. I should’ve known it was too good to be true. When I needed it the most, the man wasn’t even going to fight for me.
