Talk For Me: Club Avalon Book 3

by Kay Elle Parker

  A battle of wills ensued between their eyes. Thane's were determined, but calm and full of confidence. Connie had no doubt hers were the complete opposite. This wasn't something she could brat her way out of—he wouldn't let her—and while she could try talking him into something more…energetic, she realized she'd just be wasting her time.

  There was something she could do, however, that would speed things up considerably.

  “As you wish, Master Thane.” She sat up and leaned forward, crawling down the bed to situate herself between his thighs. Ever the gentleman, he spread them wider, and she gave him a pleasant, hopefully submissive smile in return.

  Her fingers gripped him firmly at the base, and she got a real understanding of just how much girth he possessed. There was more than an inch gap between her thumb and fingertips. He felt like an iron rod sheathed in silk, his skin warm and soft. Dragging the noose of her fingers up towards the tip, she found he didn't lose much circumference, even as she reached the plum-like crown.

  He wasn't as long as some of the others she'd seen in Avalon, but by God, he didn't need to be.

  Bending forward, she ran her tongue over the purplish-red head, tightening her fingers around it to sensitize the flesh. She tasted the saltiness of his cum, the fresh muskiness of pre-cum leaking from the delicate hole in the center. She had a lot of tricks up her sleeves to make male subs squirm and cry, just from that alone. But that wasn't what she was aiming for.

  Closing her lips over the head, Connie sucked lightly. Gauging how much she could take, how much she was prepared to take without causing her jaw damage, or worse, nicking him with her teeth. Though she shielded them with her lips, she didn't dare risk his wrath. Another inch, another, before her body went rigid at the idea of suffocating on his dick.

  We've done this plenty of times before. He's thicker, that's all. Just take a deep breath in through your nose. See, we can breathe.

  Her airways weren't compromised. He wasn't forcing her head down on him, he was simply sitting back and letting her direct how deeply she took him, which she appreciated. Normally, blowjobs were her version of a sub's reward after a long and pleasing scene. She hadn't sucked a cock in submission in a long time.

  “You have the best mouth, sugar.” Thane groaned, low and deep, shifting his hips. “Take more of me.”

  Drool puddled in her mouth, leaking from the corners of her stretched lips. More? She was struggling with the few inches she already had. But she tried, urging herself down another inch before her brain sent up warning flares for a possible choking hazard.

  Glancing up with watering eyes, she watched him arch into the mattress, muscles standing out in high definition. Any other Dom would have taken her by the hair, but not Thane. His hands were fisted in the sheets, twisting them as he pulled. While his hips rocked, he controlled them enough he didn't thrust completely into her full mouth.

  Connie reached between her thighs, pushing two fingers inside herself. Slick, wet, hot. She moaned around Thane's cock, using her tongue to flutter and rub the underside, taking more than a little pleasure at the feel of the thick vein pulsing quickly. Not that she'd admit it, but it felt…productive? No, that wasn't it. Thrilling? Okay, maybe it was thrilling to know she could kick his heart rate up, to have the proof of it literally on her tongue.

  “Christ, when you moan, it ripples down my fucking cock.” Thane growled, the sound dark and gritty.

  If he liked that, he was going to love what came next. Bobbing her head slightly, Connie slid her hand down to the heavy sac beneath his cock, toying gently with his balls. A man was most vulnerable during a blowjob, to her mind. All the most sensitive goodies at a woman's disposal. Her lips twitched, letting a rivulet of warm saliva drip down his shaft.

  With her other hand, she reached between his ass cheeks, finding the ticklish spot of his perineum, and then his anus. She felt him jerk in shock, and sucked harder to distract him from her fingertip circling that weak point. Oh, she understood perfectly well why men loved fucking ass so much. As she pushed in, she felt the spread of his muscles and heard his almost pained groan devolve into a harsh grunt.

  “Connie…fuck, woman!”

  Yeah, that was why. Invading the most private place, sneaking into tight, hot flesh and drawing wanton sounds from someone's throat without them realizing they were making them…it was a heady sensation. As a Domme, she enjoyed listening to her subs groan and whisper her name, but as a submissive, she knew how easy it was to turn those groans into screams.

  Complete control.

  Carefully, aware of how even the smallest cut inside could cause him pain, she pushed and twisted her finger up inside him, thrusting gently until she felt his muscles clamp down on her. She said, “Ah-ah,” but all that came out was a mmmph-mmmph that made his hips buck. Ooops, she needed to remember he liked vocal vibration on his cock.

  “I swear to God, sugar,” Thane's head bowed back, exposing his throat and the cords down either side of his neck, “payback for this will be astronomical.” He ground out another fuck, then the sheets ripped in his hands. “Goddamn it!”

  His dick swelled when her fingertip brushed over his prostrate. Well, at least she hadn't lost her touch. Waggling her finger, she felt the pulse on her tongue quicken, and his shaft grow impossibly more. It seemed to lengthen and thicken and become…all-consuming. In her other hand, his testicles drew up towards his body, ready to deliver what she was waiting for.

  Because she could, she stopped.

  Sucking, stroking, fondling. Everything stopped in an instant. Tears streamed down her face, saliva trailed over her chin onto his lap. Messy, she hated being messy, but in this case, it was worth it to see the big, strong Dominant unravel. Thread by thread, he came apart.

  “Connie,” he snarled.

  Oh, he was getting cranky. She blinked up at him, meeting his gaze along the length of his body. Sweat dotted his neck and chest, glistened on the arc of his ribs and the ridged plane of his stomach. His ragged breaths lifted his chest, the lights catching the silver hairs cast throughout the dark ones scattered over his pecs.

  Amber eyes, almost black, promised penance.

  She started sucking again, slowly, as her finger tapped on the tender surface of his prostrate. She wasn't surprised when his hands latched onto her head, his fingers digging deep into her hair, and could only brace herself for the fast, hard yank down onto his cock. Her throat clenched shut in anticipation of the bruising thrust; she managed to loosen it as Thane gritted out, “I'm coming, sugar. Fuck, yes. Take every…last…fucking…drop of cum down your throat…ah, fuck me!”

  He didn't use her head as leverage to sink his cock to the back of her throat as she expected. On the contrary, he dragged her up until only her lips encased the slick crown, holding her there as he bucked. Salt and musk assaulted her taste buds, her tongue swamped by stream after stream of hot cum.

  He made the most primal sounds when he came. She wondered what it would take to make him roar.

  She wanted to swallow, but she'd been taught not to do anything without express permission. What was a mouthful of cum compared to a beating with a cane? Lightening her touch, she mouthed the plush head as the last drops of semen pumped out of the slit. The hand on his balls let go; the finger inside him stilled, enveloped in the rhythmic squeezes of his body's release. When he finally relaxed, his fingers going limp in her hair, she slipped her mouth off him, and her finger free.

  Assuming the nadu position, she waited for him to shake off the orgasm. Ignoring the puddle of her own juices on the sheets, she watched his face with trepidation, uncertain whether he'd be happy about the liberty she'd taken. Probably not—fingerfucking a Dom without his permission was a huge no-no. `

  “Well,” he said after a few minutes, his eyes still closed. “You sure know what to do with a prostate gland, sugar.”

  More than he could appreciate, she thought. She lowered her gaze respectfully, although the respect part was about ten minutes too la
te. God, her ass was going to take such a thrashing, she could already feel the sting of the fronds on her flesh.

  “Cat got your tongue?” Thane asked, peering at her with one eye, then he sat up, scowling. “What's wrong?”

  Sheepishly, she opened her mouth, then shrugged.

  “Someone trained you well,” he murmured, then his scowl deepened as he likely remembered who had probably done that training. He reached out and brushed his thumb over her lips. “Beautiful, Connie. Thank you. For future reference, if I want you to hold my cum, I'll tell you. I do believe I told you to swallow it all, did I not?”

  Oh, fuck. Had he? Eyes wide, she flicked through the last few minutes, and realized that yes, he had actually ordered her to swallow. She gulped hastily, lifting her hands up in defense. Her instinctual flinch when he cupped his around hers, folding her fingers into her palms, was humiliating.

  “Hmmm. Think so little of me, do you, sugar?” Using her hands, he yanked her forward so she sprawled over him. Before she hit his chest, his arms were already curling around her, clutching her tight. “I don't punish honest mistakes, Constance. Ever. I don't train through fear, I don't enjoy seeing terror in your eyes. If I ever give you a genuine reason to look at me that way again, I'll hand myself over to the Masters.”

  Trembling, she snuggled into him, determined to banish that moment of insanity. Reflex, that was all. It was bound to happen if they continued down this road, and Thane seemed content to keep on going with the exercise. She rested her cheek against his heart, letting the steady thump work as a guide for her own. “It won't happen again.”

  “Of course it will. When it does, we'll deal with it. For now, I can honestly say I've never been fingered that well in…well, forever.” When Connie laughed softly, he rubbed her back. “That's my girl. Ready for a nap now, sugar?”

  Yeah, she supposed she could take a nap, just like this.

  Chapter Eight

  Thane followed Connie from the private room an hour later, feeling just a tad smug about his night's work. They'd had a good, intense scene. She was learning to trust him, and he intended to build on that in the future. He wanted to take the desensitization toward blindfolds further now he knew how she reacted, and anal play wasn't completely off the table. That, he would definitely pursue, even if it was only once. If he could show her the benefits, the pleasure she could gain, he hoped she wouldn't fear it so much.

  The woman had one hell of a mouth on her. Couldn't fault that, or the sneaky finger she'd eased up his ass.

  His lips twitched into a satisfied smile as they passed a gay couple making their way into the next barn, then spread into a grin as he met the eyes of an unfamiliar Domme leading her own sub past. He hooked a finger into Connie's waistband—grateful someone had had the foresight to gather her clothes and leave them outside the door—and tagged along behind, admiring her tangle of hair. The lights gleamed through all the colors, highlighting its beauty, and the absolute travesty he'd made of it.

  Did it bother him that everyone glanced to see who the Mistress was with? That was a simple answer: no, not in the slightest. There was truth in it, after all. He was eager to swap places with her and see what she was truly capable of when the Domme was let loose.

  She stopped on the threshold between the walkway and the social area, her shoulders straightening, spine turning to a steel rod, and her armor clicking back into place, piece by piece. He imagined she looked delectably just-fucked, but everyone not in the loop would assume she'd been her usual authoritative self and bossed the hell out of him.

  He leaned forward, close enough for his lips to brush the shell of her ear. “Would you like a drink, Mistress?”

  The fact she shivered made him hard. Damn, that was getting to be a bad habit around her. At forty-six, he shouldn't be ready to mount a female for a third time so soon, but something about Connie made his dick enthusiastic about throwing itself into the fray.

  “White wine, please.” She turned her head enough he could see one gray eye. “Liam knows which label I prefer.”

  Eyes and ears all around. Thane grinned and nipped her lobe. “I'll see to that right away, Mistress.” In an undertone for her ears only, he added, “I'll meet you in the pit. One drink only tonight, sugar, after your escapades last night.”

  He saw the twitch in her cheek as her lip curled into a snarl. “Just you wait, Thane.”

  “Mistress, I'm so excited, I can hardly contain myself.” Straightening, he nudged her toward the pit, pleased to note Atticus and Jasper were there. Braun wasn't, but Thane assumed he'd returned home to be with the pregnant Bodie, and Loki was likely off playing with some besotted sub. Jasper, however, had his pretty blonde woman kneeling at his feet.

  When Connie strode off toward them, Thane watched her. Hmm, she was walking with the slightest limp, he thought, and he felt a flush of concern as he worried over whether he'd bruised her. Easily done with his girth. Perhaps he shouldn't have rutted into her so hard at the end. Damn it, he'd have to pin her down and check her over once he got her home.

  That was an argument brewing, he mused as he strolled over to the bar and waited patiently for Liam to come down the line. He wasn't happy leaving her alone for the night after what he'd put her through, and subdrop could happen hours after the event. Presuming either Braun or Atticus would hold guardianship over the young girl, Alicia, for the night, there was nothing left for Connie to go home for.

  “Thane.” Pale gray eyes pinned him across the bar, then searched the area for Connie. Relief washed over Liam's face as he found her. “I take it all went well?”

  Thane shrugged his shoulder, aware there was more than just Liam's attention on him. “I think we had a good scene. An improvement on the first, but there's more trust there now.” Thinking of the clever finger manipulating his prostrate, he grinned. “She's certainly well-educated on how to please a man. It's been a long time since I found a Mistress with innovative fingers.”

  Liam's eyebrows shot up. “I see. Well, what can I get you?”

  “Two waters and a glass of white wine. Mistress Connie said you know her preference.”

  “I thought I did,” Liam muttered, moving down the bar and ducking beneath the wooden top for a moment. When he re-emerged, he plunked two cold bottles down and grabbed a glass from a line hanging across the back wall. He selected a bottle, poured a quarter of a glass, then frowned. “Should she—”

  “It's fine, I'm driving her home. I think she only wanted a half glass after the migraine attack earlier.” Hell, was she safe to be drinking after he'd shot that stuff up her nose? Fuck, he hadn't read the instructions. “On second thoughts, that'll do fine. That medication is strong shit.”

  Their eyes met in agreement, then Liam shoved the glass down toward him, followed by the bottles. “I'll stick it on your tab. If she has any complaints, don't take the heat for it. She can see me or Atticus if she gets her panties in a twist.”

  “I'll tell her that. Thank you, Master Liam.” With a nod, Thane hooked the three drinks into a triangle in his hands and made his way to the seating pit. He nearly laughed when he saw Connie tucked against the padded backing, her eyes on Jasper, but the expression in them distant. She would be asleep before he got her home, by his calculation.

  He took the steps down into the pit and offered her the water first, giving her a subtle glare when she opened her mouth to protest. Sulking, yet acting as regally as a queen, she snatched the bottle and wrenched the cap off, drinking quickly and quietly. She drank the whole bottle while he stood and waited, then he exchanged the empty container for the glass.

  Her eyes turned to wildfire smoke. “Seriously?”

  Setting the two bottles on the floor, Thane winced as he folded himself onto his knees beside her, leaning his arm against her leg. Contentment shimmered over him as he allowed the submissive out for a leg stretch. “Master Liam said if you had an issue with it, speak to him or Master Atticus. We weren't sure you should be drinking at all after you
r migraine,” he tossed in quietly, opening his bottle and sipping.

  “She shouldn't,” the Master in question replied with a fierce scowl of displeasure. “And she knows it.”

  Connie flipped up her middle finger. “Sit and swivel, Atticus. I understand my limitations better than you, even if I choose to break them every now and then.” She lifted the glass and sipped defiantly, but Thane caught an edge of uncertainty. She'd lost her solid footing in dominance, and was trying to regain her balance. “I have work in the morning. I'll be fine.”

  “I'm taking her home, Atticus. I'll make sure she's okay.” Thane drank deeply this time as he listened to Connie splutter in her wine. “No arguments, Mistress. We came in my truck, we'll leave in it. We can stop by your place, or stay there if you need clothes for tomorrow, but you'll have company tonight. Just in case.”

  “Just in case what?” she hissed.

  Oh, without their agreement in place, he'd have her bare-assed over his knees and spanked simply for the bitchy tone. Instead, he drank again, meeting the eyes of the other Masters. Keeping his voice low, he said, “Subdrop isn't uncommon after an intense scene. Limits were pushed, which means there's a chance nightmares or panic attacks will occur. So unless one of these gentlemen or Anarchy are spending the night with you, you're stuck with me.”

  She flicked that finger up again. “Now you can sit and swivel, Thane. I'm capable of handling myself—”

  “And isn't it lucky you won't have to tonight?” he interrupted, more sharply than he'd intended. “Take the help when it's offered, Mistress. If you're shy, I can always crash on the couch.” He glanced up at her and saw she had the faintest flush sheening her cheeks. “Or you can strap me down and continue where you left off in there.” He tilted his head toward the private room.

  With a sniff, she jerked her head away and gazed at something across the room. But, he thought with amusement, she didn't take another sip of wine. Score one for the Doms' side of the room.