On Your Knees Read online

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  On Your Knees

  ISBN 9781419912450

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  On Your Knees Copyright © 2007 Brynn Paulin

  Edited by Helen Woodall.

  Cover art by Syneca.

  Electronic book Publication September 2007

  This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  On Your Knees

  Brynn Paulin

  Dedication

  To all the women who have to be in control but don’t want to be.

  Author Note

  This book portrays some aspects of Domination/submission and BDSM but is not intended as a true-to-life account of this lifestyle.

  Trademark Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  7-11: 7-Eleven, Inc.

  Barbie: Mattel, Inc.

  Hotel California: composed of Mike Dimoulas, Roger Lapointe, and Andre Lapointe

  Lone Ranger, The: Classic Media, Inc.

  Princess Bride: Act III Communications, Screenplay and book by William Goldman

  Three of Wands

  When I chose the Three of Wands for On Your Knees I had a plethora of paths to explore. The focus of this card is on new and beneficial partnerships, successful conclusions, fantasies coming to fruition, exploration, having faith and even finding peace with the past. The shadow aspects of the card include wasted efforts and being overwhelmed in delays. Goals are difficult to reach because of failure to work cooperatively with others.

  Whew! I could have focused on just one of these but all applied to my heroine, Jessica, who has struggled with her past and as a result, has become a woman obsessed with being in control and proving herself. She feels she must do everything herself. She’s swamped in the shadow side of the Three of Wands. Jessica needs the partnership foretold by this card. She needs to explore her fantasies and discover there’s more to life than work. Most of all she needs to have faith and trust in someone outside herself. The pressure she puts on herself is eating her alive.

  Ryan, the story’s hero, recognizes this. In disguise as a dungeon master at Pleasure Palace, he offers Jessica a new partnership in which he will be her Dom and she his submissive. For a long time, Jessica has had fantasies about submitting to a man who would take the power she’s felt forced to wield. This seems the perfect opportunity to explore her lurid dreams and exorcise a few demons. At Ryan’s hands, Jessica will finally find a happily ever after she’s never imagined.

  On Your Knees portrays some aspects of Domination/submission and BDSM but is not intended as a true-to-life account of this lifestyle.

  Chapter One

  Please Cum…

  Crass. Jessica Rush wrinkled her nose as she tossed the invitation onto the corner of her desk. A sex toy demonstration.

  “No,” she told her friend Keera.

  “Please,” Keera pleaded. “It’ll be fun. The whole place is set up for parties like this. I went to one last month. Very erotic. You’ll love it.”

  Erotic. Jess almost snorted as she pulled the latest construction schedule toward her. She’d find it very erotic if her crew could bring in the mall project on time. Until then she didn’t have time for anything, not even a diversion like the party Keera had been invited to.

  Keera picked up the invitation and dropped it in the middle of the paperwork. “Come on. You need to think about something besides work.”

  That was easy for her to say. Her job overseeing the administrative personnel wasn’t, by her own admission, as stressful as Jess’ as Project Manager for Cress Construction. Plenty of people thought Jess couldn’t do the job and that she shouldn’t have been given the assignment. She was out to prove every one of them wrong, which meant no time for play.

  She glanced down at the square of light blue cardboard in the middle of her work. She flipped it over. “Pleasure Palace, Giving Single Women What They Want Most. Hmph. It’s at Pleasure Palace?” she asked incredulously. She’d heard of that place—and stayed far from it. A sex resort, that’s what it was.

  “Some of the guys who will be there are hot and available. You could hook up. Blow off some steam.”

  “Right. You know what I want most? Someone to clean my house.”

  Keera sighed. “When did you get so boring?”

  “Look, let’s just go to dinner so I can get home in time to finish my budget updates and get to bed early so I can get here early tomorrow. I’m still recovering from the last party you dragged me to.”

  “The psychic bridal shower? It was fun.”

  “Watching the drunk bride-to-be model lingerie? Or that tarot card reader who was a total fraud. I know more about readings than she did.” The woman’s mystic-tinged voice filled her mind along with the ethereal image of the Three of Wands card. The reader had said it signified Jessica’s future. Alliance, exploration and happily ever after, the woman had promised. Past hurts would be healed, she’d learn to trust and her dreams would come to pass.

  Right. So far she didn’t see a sign of any of that happening and the likelihood of forgetting what screwups her parents had been was nil. Being forced to be the only grownup in the family had a way of shaping one’s life and future.

  And her dreams?

  More like nightmares lately. Good God, she didn’t want some of them to occur. That woman at the party had been a charlatan at best.

  “Let’s just go to a movie or something.”

  Keera rolled her eyes and snatched away the invitation. “Nope. I’m going. Seriously, I think it’s a much better way to spend Thursday night than that.” She swept a hand toward Jess’ desk. “You’ve got five minutes to change your mind, then I’m on my way. The party starts at six.”

  “Party?”

  “Hi Ryan, bye Ryan,” Keera chirped as she headed out the door.

  Jess almost groaned as Ryan Cress, second son of the Cress Construction family, strolled into her office. Not only did his family own the company but he was her boss and frequently in the middle of her business. And her dreams.

  Heat flooded up her back as she remembered last night’s erotic dream. She desperately tried to focus on him in a strictly work-sense instead. Business. Keep your thoughts on business.

  At least once a day, he stopped by to check her progress—well, actually the progress on the mall. Still it felt like he was checking on her. She would have liked it better if he were checking out her. She supposed it was his right. This was his family’s company. Rights aside though, she needed space and she didn’t need a micro-manager breathing over her shoulder.

  She wasn’t being fair. Ryan didn’t micro-manage. It was just her perception brought on by her need to constantly prove herself.

  Still, she didn’t doubt he was here to check up on her. While he folded his long frame into the chair across from her, she mentally readied herself to give a quick update of the project. A lock of his wavy black hair drooped over his forehead while he studied her.

  She stifled an appreciative sigh. She’d never seen any man wear business clothes as well and as comfortably as Ryan wore his dark razor creased slacks and starched white shirt. They hugged his body as if they’d been specifically made for his lean figure—and they probably had. He was perfection walking.

  “What p
arty?” he asked again.

  She shrugged dismissively. “A thing Keera’s going to.”

  “You’re not going?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve got things to do.”

  His gray eyes narrowed at her. “Work?”

  “Well—”

  “Jessica.”

  A shiver snaked down her spine at his tone. No one except Ryan called her Jessica. To everyone else she was plain old Jess, one of the guys.

  He leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re working yourself to death. As far as our client is concerned you’re ahead of schedule. Yet you insist on acting as if you’re behind—”

  “I am.”

  “You don’t have to prove yourself.” He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. He knew her too well and that bugged her. “Anyone who had doubts is long convinced that you’re the right person for the job.”

  She bit back a protest. “Thank you.”

  “Do yourself a favor,” he suggested. “Go do something fun tonight.”

  “I have too much to do.”

  He stood and leaned on her desk, bending toward her. His warm, minty breath brushed her skin. “Take the night off. If you don’t, I’ll reassign you. I will not have you killing yourself.”

  “You wouldn’t!” Fighting the image of being reassigned to a position beneath his thrusting body, she glared at him. Her thoughts had gone berserk.

  “Try me.”

  “You can’t. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  He simply watched her, letting her come to her own conclusions. The authority in his gaze set her back in her chair. “Go with Keera. Where is she going tonight?”

  “Some party at Pleasure Palace.”

  Ryan tried to breathe as he realized where he’d ordered Jessica to go. His older brother Theo owned Pleasure Palace and he and Ryan had spent plenty of time there with their submissives. It wasn’t exactly the place where he’d expect to find Jessica, as much as he wanted to. He’d stopped fucking other women because every time he did, he saw her face. The disappointment and guilt was too much after a while. Not a good mix for a Dom.

  Abstaining until he cleared himself of the obsession seemed the smart thing to do. Until now, he hadn’t found the means for striking the fixation from his mind.

  He watched Jessica turn away from him to grab her purse from her bottom desk drawer and imagined her on her knees, presenting her ass to him. His cock sprang to attention. He swore under his breath. What the hell was wrong with him? Learning to control his reactions was one of the first things he’d learned as a Dom, still every time he was in the same room with her, he got hard.

  If Jessica didn’t submit to him soon, he might go nuts.

  Of course, she didn’t seem to notice any man at the office. She was so driven. Her need to control everything and to prove herself colored everything she did from her prim power suits and upswept brown hair to her hard-as-nails attitude. He watched her drive herself into the ground until the wee hours of every night. She left after everyone else, taking home a briefcase full of paperwork which she lugged back into work the next morning. Dark crescents lived beneath her tired green eyes. She never cut herself a break.

  No matter how many times he told her not to do it, she continued. He wanted to see her pale skin free of fatigue almost as much as he wanted to fuck her until her slim body collapsed beneath him and they both struggled to breathe again. Actually, he realized, he wanted it more.

  Last month, she’d stopped smiling.

  As she sat up, she pushed a strand of her long brown hair back into her twist. Her blouse pulled tight against her arm, showing how slim she’d become. It was past time to stop this.

  “Did you stop to eat lunch today?”

  Gathering papers from her desk, she shook her head without looking at him and missed his pissed off expression. Good thing. He might have scared her to death.

  “I was in back to back meetings all day. I grabbed a cola an hour ago.”

  It sat unopened on her desk. “It tastes better if you open it,” he grated and her head snapped up. Ignoring the instant argument in her eyes, he forged ahead, his knuckles against the top of the desk as he leaned forward. “I am giving you two minutes to get your butt out of that chair and get out the door. And I swear if you take one scrap of paper with you—one bit of work—I will fire you before you hit the parking lot. Get moving. Your time started thirty seconds ago.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “Try me. Get in gear and go meet Keera. I want a report tomorrow.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks turning them bright pink. It was the most life he’d seen in her in weeks. If this is what it took to get a reaction he’d sure as hell keep on. The thought gave him another idea and another reason to hurry her out the door.

  He’d bet Theo would be interested in knowing where Keera was planning to spend her evening. Nearly as interested as Ryan was at the prospect of finding Jessica there.

  He looked at his watch. “Less than a minute. How much do you value your job?

  * * * * *

  Okay, Madam Zelda or what ever that psychic’s name had been might have been right about her exploring-new-things prediction. Visiting Pleasure Palace certainly qualified as a new experience. If that fraud had been right it was a complete fluke.

  Jessica parked in the curved drive in front of Pleasure Palace and surveyed the sprawling structure. Though she’d never been here, she’d always pictured it like Cinderella’s castle. There would be towering turrets, a drawbridge and a moat. A dungeon. The very name “Pleasure Palace” spoke of dungeons. Her skin warmed, despite the bite in the fall air and she imagined herself chained and waiting.

  “Jessica, you’re a pervert.” She pushed the thought of dungeons and erotic fantasies from her mind. This was an old-world mansion with double doors and three-story pillars. Definitely no dungeon. What was wrong with her, anyway? Getting all hot and bothered over the thought of being tied up. Damn, next thing she knew she’d be getting off on the thought of being spanked. Her pelvic muscles tightened, sending a tingle through her cleft.

  She was a lost cause. She didn’t understand it. BDSM was the last thing in the world she wanted, yet she got aroused just considering the scenario. She should just turn around and go home before she got herself into trouble. The parties here were by invitation only. Since she hadn’t arrived with Keera, she wasn’t even sure she would be admitted. Besides, they’d probably be demonstrating bondage tools inside. Sure she was interested in it but she certainly didn’t want anyone else knowing her secret fantasies.

  Smoothing her hands down her black slacks, she fought back her nerves. This was only a demonstration. She’d kick back, look at the toys—maybe buy one—and be home in time to finish her project budget. This would just be a bunch of giddy women giggling over huge purple dildos or the like.

  It could be fun.

  Or it could be as excruciating as a migraine.

  Powered by that lovely thought, she dragged herself from her car and headed up the steps to the double doors. She pressed the button on the intercom beside them.

  “Name?”

  “I’m not sure I’m on the list—”

  “Name?”

  They weren’t exactly cordial here.

  “Jessica Rush,” she answered. Please, please, please don’t let me be on the list.

  The attendant didn’t speak again. The lock on the door clicked. Jessica dove for it before the lock re-engaged. Inside, stood a woman in medieval wench garb. Actually, to be more accurate, it was the gothest, briefest wench outfit Jessica had ever seen, rounded out with jagged-cut black hair and black lipstick. Jessica tried her best not to stare at the excessive cleavage. Her gaze flitted about the entry with an eye for the construction and decoration. Pretty standard old money. Several doors, all closed. Expensive wall treatments. Highly polished marble floors. Recently remodeled or exceptionally well-maintained.

  “This way,” the attendant said. She
sighed and shook her head, visibly unimpressed with her duties.

  Oh, I see. Miss Personality here was the one who answered the buzzer. So far Jessica wasn’t thrilled by the service here. Maybe the woman was irritated because she was a latecomer. Jessica thought about turning around and leaving but remembered Ryan’s order. He’d probably ask her about this tomorrow and she’d better have answers.

  She caught her breath when she stepped through the door leading to the inner portion of the house. The modern façade fell away and she was deep inside a medieval castle complete with wall torches—thankfully an electric simulation she noted—and rough stone walls. Just like a dungeon.

  Oh shut up! she told her inner voice. There is no dungeon.

  She jumped as several screams erupted around her, echoing down the hall. Pleasure? Pain? Holy crap! Where the hell was the exit?

  Her guide turned and rolled her eyes. “Exhibitionists,” she muttered in disgust. “Most of the other rooms are soundproofed. Would you like to check in on what they’re doing? They won’t mind.”

  “Um, no.”

  “Okay. This way.” She turned the corner and Jessica considered turning around and running for the door. She had a feeling she’d just entered the Hotel California.

  The woman huffed and grabbed, her elbow. “You’re going to get lost. I’ll be in big trouble if you wander in to the wrong room.”

  She hustled Jessica down a winding hallway and ushered her into another dimly lit room.

  Jessica pulled her arm free. “I think there’s been some mistake.”

  “You are Jessica Rush, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “No mistake. This is the package your, uh, friend requested for you. Wait here and the, uh, servants will be in to prepare you for your evening.” She frowned at a paper on a rough-hewn table beside the door, sighed and shoved it in her pocket. She turned to Jessica with a fake smile. “Happy fucking.”