"It's what I want, too," he said, his voice husky with pleasure. That he was so vocal about being turned on increased her arousal.

"Do me, Sir," she pleaded.

"My pleasure."

He thrust into her repeatedly, making her body jerk from the force. She played with her breasts and pinched her nipples. From the way he'd used her earlier, the tips were still swollen and sensitive, and that only heightened her need.

When she was on the verge of an orgasm, he stopped.

"Knees over my shoulders," he instructed.

Damn, how could he read her so well?

He helped her into the position he wanted. "Perfect," Master Alexander said. He leant forward, letting her body take his weight. It stretched her hamstrings unbelievably, and it permitted him in so deep she couldn't draw a full breath.

"Sir..."

"All of me, girl. Take all of me."

"Yes," she whispered.

He held her ankles tenderly, but pistoned his hips, and she screamed.

The discomfort of being impaled so forcefully made her come. She hadn't asked permission-she hadn't been capable of it. The climax had claimed her so hard and fast, she was helpless.

"Beautiful, my horny little cock slut," he said, but the words held no threat of retribution. "There's more." After he released the grip he'd had on her ankles, he brushed her hands aside and pinched her nipples as he continued to ride her.

"I apologise, Sir. I-" Her scream swallowed the rest of the words. The exquisite agony he inflicted, combined with the relentless, deep pounding, made her come again.

Chelsea was lost.

He groaned as he fucked her. It felt impossibly hard to her, and so very sexy. Their gazes collided and she saw raw desire there. Then he closed his eyes and gave a deep guttural moan. That she had that kind of power over him intoxicated her. As he ejaculated, his dick got bigger, and the penetration was deeper than ever. It hurt, but it felt good at the same time.

More considerate than any lover she'd been with, he released her breasts and played with her clit to bring her off one more time. She came so hard that she forced out his semi-hard penis.

"Stay there," he said.

As if she could move, even if he ordered her to.

Realising she was panting, she took a steadying breath.

He removed the condom and quickly cleaned up, then returned with a cool washcloth to soothe and cleanse her pussy. "Thank you, Sir." She'd never had a man do this before. And she liked it.

He offered his hand to help her up. "You've made this a memorable birthday. Thank you."

She was satiated. And more determined than ever to get this man to agree to train her. She just needed a plan.

Chapter Four.

"Chelsea did what?" Alex asked, sitting back in his chair and looking out of the window towards the foothills. Damien's call had surprised Alex, but his gut-twisting reaction to the news stunned him.

"She called Niles," Damien repeated unnecessarily.

On the surface, that wasn't a bad idea. At one time, Niles had been as well-known as he was respected in the community. Since the death of his wife, he'd become reclusive. He participated in some scenes filmed at the Den, but he saw no one beyond professional models and actresses. Just like Alex, Niles had an edge to him. But Niles was rougher, more remote. Some wondered if he was capable of emotional attachment. Alex shoved away the unwelcome idea that the same description could apply to him.

"Niles turned her down," Damien continued. "But he gave her several recommendations."

She wouldn't be deterred. Alex should have realised that and not ended the evening the way he had, by wishing her well in her endeavours. She wanted to snag Evan C, and so would recklessly pursue any path that got her there. It didn't matter that he'd refused to train her, she would find someone, anyone who would. And not everyone could be trusted. Foolish girl. "Thanks for the heads-up," he said.

Before ending the call, he updated Damien on a couple of their investments, one that was doing as well as expected, one that was performing better than anticipated. They didn't make up for the colossal failure of the Bartholomew deal, but it was a start. He was pursuing other opportunities, but before he said anything, he and Gavin would be triple-checking all the details.

Alex slid his cell phone onto the desktop and stared at the sunset. At least this was one good thing about their recent move to the less expensive address. Their Cherry Creek offices had lacked the view that the Denver West area provided.

He thought about Chelsea, just like he had done every night this week. He'd enjoyed playing with her, introducing her to things she'd never tried before, seeing what made her nervous, then pushing her past those apprehensions.

Since Liz, he'd spent his nights alone. Until Chelsea, he'd had no desire to change that.

The idea of her going through all the Doms in Denver pissed him off. She could be hurt. And damn it, he wanted to be the one to watch her green eyes open wide, to soothe her brow when she was frightened, to teach her proper decorum. If she was so desperate to be trained, he would be the one to do it.

He picked up his phone and scrolled through the contacts list until he found the number for Sara's Dom. Within five minutes he had Chelsea on the line. "Round one to you."

"Excuse me?"

"You win," he conceded.

"Does this mean you're agreeable to training me?"

He heard excitement in her tone. Not just triumph, but honest enthusiasm. She might have won, but if she was gloating, she was disguising it well. "I'll give you two weeks. Are you available in the evenings and on the weekends?"

"There are a couple of events that I need to attend, but mostly I can rearrange my schedule, Sir."

"I recommend we start tomorrow."

"That works."

"Dinner? Six o'clock."

"That works," she said.

He named a restaurant near his office. "Wear a short skirt, heels, no undergarments. And pack an overnight bag in case you decide to stay. Any questions?"

There was silence. "How much will this cost me?"

"I don't charge."

"In that case, I'll make a charitable donation in the name of Monahan Capital."

He exhaled. She might not be a masochist like Liz had been, but that didn't mean he would have the patience he needed to deal with her annoying persistence. "Don't be late."

"Yes, Sir."

He half expected her to call and try to change the arrangements, and he was pleasantly surprised when she didn't. He arrived at the restaurant five minutes early, and she was already there. Impressive. She was sitting on a bench, her impossibly long legs crossed. Her back was hunched slightly, as if she were trying to hide the fact her breasts were bare beneath the loose-knit sweater. Her beauty was startling, and he was man enough to notice and appreciate it.

He'd prefer to see her present her body more proudly, and they'd be working on that. The next time they dined in public, her behaviour would be different.

With the artificial, calculating smile he recognised from the first time she approached him at the Den, she stood and offered her hand, as if he were a business associate. He ignored her hand and said, "I'd prefer you to kiss my cheek."

She blinked. "Of course," she said, leaning towards him.

"Of course, Sir," he corrected.

"Of course, Sir," she repeated, then kissed his cheek.

"Please," he said, indicating she should precede him. When she did, he placed his fingers as the small of her back. "Stand up straighter." He heard her draw a sharp breath, but she did so. "Reservations for Monahan," he told the hostess.

After they were seated, with menus in hand, he asked Chelsea, "Any preference?"

She looked at the entrees. "Probably just a salad. With sirloin. Maybe some wine."

"How do you like your steak cooked?"

Over the top of the menu, she scowled at him.

"I'll be ordering your food," he told her.

"I'm capable of doing that myself."

"Of course you are, but this is about your willingness to allow me to handle the details."

She put down the menu.

"A good Dom always takes his sub's desires into account. A good sub in turn trusts he will make good decisions on her behalf. If you have any preferences, now is a good time to express them."

"I don't like this," she admitted.

"Over the next two weeks, there will be plenty of things you don't like. You have a choice to deal with it or end your training."

She drummed her fingers on the table.

"This isn't as easy as you'd anticipated, is it?"

The waiter stopped by, and Alex ordered them each a glass of red wine. She set her chin mutinously, but said nothing.

"You may find my dominance irritating. Or you could decide it's nice to have someone take care of you for a change. It can be a struggle, or not. But understand this, bad behaviour will be corrected and perhaps punished. So, Chelsea, shall we proceed, or just have dinner as friends?"

"Do you expect me to address you as Sir, even in public?"

"When we are out as a Dom and sub, yes. If we were at a business event, that would be discussed and rules agreed to beforehand."

She was silent for so long he wasn't sure if she was going to answer. Finally she said, "I like my steak medium-rare, Sir."

He nodded. "Now sit up straight. I like that you dressed according to my desires."

"I am, Sir. It feels weird not wearing a bra."

"I like to see your nipples. And visualising them with clamps on."

She sipped from her water. "I'm not sure I've recovered from last weekend."

"Poor thing."

"I'm not hearing any sympathy, Sir."

"No. You're not." The waiter returned with the wine, and Alex ordered their meals and remembered to say, "Please ensure there is no parsley anywhere near the lady's plate."

The man nodded.

She smiled.

When they were alone again, Alex asked her, "Rather painless, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Sir. It wasn't nearly as bad as I'd made it in my mind."

"Did it take away from your empowerment?"

She sank against the back of her chair. "No." She picked up her wine. "It didn't change who I am, Sir, or the fact I'm capable of ordering my own food at any other time."

He nodded. "First lesson. Being submissive doesn't take away anything from you as a person or as a woman. You'll enjoy the meal you wanted, cooked the way you like, and you delighted me in the process."

"Yes, Sir."

"Not all Doms order for their subs, but many do. Take your lead from him, or her, and don't argue in the process."

"I understand," she said.

As they drank wine, she told him about her desire to succeed.

"My father abandoned us when I was ten. Mom forced me to go to college so that I wouldn't end up struggling like she had. She made sure I knew I couldn't count on anyone except myself." She toyed with her knife and fork. "She worked her ass off at two jobs so I could go to community college, then on to university."

"And taught you never to take no for an answer."

"True. It just means I need to find another way of asking the question," she said. "And you? When are you going to let me organise a charity function for Monahan Capital?"