The Last Good Knight (The Original Sinners Pulp Library)

by Tiffany Reisz

Nora smiled at him. “Acting strong even when afraid impresses me. It’s not courage if you’re not scared.” She leaned forward and they clinked their beer bottles together.

  “I’m just glad you’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

  “You were with me. Of course I’m okay.”

  Lance leaned forward to set his beer on the coffee table. Nora lifted the back of his shirt.

  “Hey, you, what are you doing?” he asked, looking back over his shoulder.

  “Relax. I like seeing the souvenirs. My clients rarely book back-to-back sessions with me. I never get to see the aftermath.”

  Lance grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked. He bent forward and let her have full access to his back.

  “Damn. I do good work. You still have some nice bruises. Want me to get the mouthwash?”

  “Mouthwash?”

  “Little trick Kingsley taught me. Applying mouthwash to bruises makes them fade faster. They’ll be gone in two days if you want.”

  “I think I’ll keep them,” he said. “You’re keeping yours, aren’t you?”

  “I always keep mine,” she confessed. “You like your bruises?”

  “I love them. They’re a turn-on.”

  Nora traced a few of the red welts with her fingertips. Lance closed his eyes and inhaled.

  “Next time I’ll leave some marks on the front of your body,” Nora said into his ear. “On your hips…your stomach…front of your thighs…I’ll make sure you can see them. Would you like that?”

  “Yes, Mistress,” he whispered.

  “Do you get aroused when you look at the welts and bruises the day after a scene?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you masturbate the day after when you look at them?”

  “Every day until they heal completely.”

  “Wish I could watch that.”

  “I’d love for you to watch me.”

  Nora could feel the muscles in his back tensing under her touch. “Do it for me now.”

  “Nora, you know I can’t.”

  “Oh, I think we both know you can. And I think we both know you want to. Kingsley said no sex. He said nothing about masturbation.”

  “We’re splitting hairs a little.”

  “I have turned finding loopholes in rules into a high art. If it were an Olympic sport I’d medal in it. And don’t pretend you don’t want to. You know you want to come for me while I watch. I know you want to show me how much our night together turned you on.”

  “God, yes…”

  “I’m not ordering you to do it because that would be kinky. King said no sex, no kink. We’re not going to have sex. We’re not going to do kink. We’re just going to hang out on the couch. And if the spirit moves you…then it moves you.”

  The spirit moved him.

  Nora turned sideways and leaned back against the sofa arm. She got nice and comfy as Lance faced her on the couch, a look of desire shining in his dark blue eyes.

  He scooted down so that he was half laying on the couch, half sitting, the sofa arm as his pillow. On the extra-long sofa, their feet barely touched.

  Lance unbuttoned his jeans and slowly pulled down the zipper.

  “You men are such fucking teases,” Nora said, shaking her head. Lance was as bad as Søren.

  “Give me some time. I might be shy.”

  “The man who was naked on the floor of my dungeon with his wrists cuffed behind his back and his face buried in my pussy is shy?”

  “I said I might be shy. I didn’t say I was shy.”

  “Tease,” she repeated.

  “Guilty.”

  He pulled his erection from his pants and slowly started to stroke himself. “I’m so going to get fired for this,” Lance sighed.

  “Don’t worry about it. If Kingsley asked if we had sex the answer is an honest ‘no.’ If asked if we did kink, the answer is…”

  “No.”

  “Good boy. I mean…right answer.”

  “Thank you. I did go to MIT. I should be able to answer simple yes and no questions even with a painful erection.”

  “It might be painful but it’s sexy as hell. You have a gorgeous cock,” Nora said with an approving nod.

  “Thank you, I think.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m a cock connoisseur.”

  Lance’s head fell back as he made another pass down and up again. “What makes a cock gorgeous?”

  “Hmm…” Nora tapped her chin. “Good size. Too big looks comical. Too small is, well, a bit disappointing. Although what women consider small and what men consider small is very different. We’re much more into girth than length, and you have very impressive girth.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Definitely. A pencil might be nine inches long, but you don’t want a pencil poking your cervix.”

  “Good point.”

  Nora bit back a laugh. “I can’t believe you made a pun while jacking off on my couch. Remind me to kill Kingsley the next time I see him. I want to fuck you so much right now it hurts.”

  “That much?”

  “I really like puns.”

  Lance stroked again and Nora couldn’t stop staring at his hardening inches, at his roaming hand, at the veins in his strong arms, the flat plane of his stomach.

  “I really like you,” Lance said, smiling through half-closed eyes.

  “I like you, too,” she said, watching as his fingers teased the head. What she wouldn’t give to roll forward and lick that little drop of semen off the tip just to make him moan. “More than I want to.”

  “You don’t want to like me?”

  “Not as much as I do, no. I’m not one of those angst-ridden types who constantly worries about whether or not she’s doing the right thing, making the right choices or God forbid, pissing someone off. I piss off more people before 10 a.m. than most people do all day.”

  “Good for you. That takes effort.”

  “I’m a natural. But to be like me, to do the job I do, live the life I live…I need it to be complication-free. You, Lance, are a complication.”

  “I’m a complication?”

  “You could be. I’m a dominatrix. So I’m not a prostitute, but let’s not quibble. I work in the sex trade. My clients don’t get to fuck me, but the kink is their version of sex. They take their clothes off, I whip their testicles, they come all over my nice rug which I have to get cleaned five times a week.”

  “You might have to get your couch cleaned after I’m done,” he said with a wink.

  “It’s my couch. Trust me, it’s Scotch-guarded. Keep rubbing.”

  “I’m rubbing. So you’re a dominatrix. I can live with that. Any other problems?”

  “No problems.” She shook her head. “I said complications, not problems. A few of the professional dominatrixes I know end up dating clients. There’s a lot of heat in those sessions. Husbands and boyfriends aren’t thrilled at the idea of having a wife or a girlfriend who spends a lot of time alone with naked, horny, kinky men.”

  “I can see how that would be a complication. I can handle it, though.”

  “Can you handle these?” She pointed to her back. “I’m a switch, remember? You’re not. If and when I need or want pain or domination, I couldn’t get that from you, right?”

  “I can’t hit a woman,” he said. “Not for love or money.”

  Nora nodded. “Thought so. So that means when my switch-side comes out, and trust me, it comes out, I’d take it elsewhere.”

  Lance wrapped his hand around his cock. Nora had never wanted to be a man’s right hand so much in her life.

  “I could live with that. I wouldn’t like it…but as long as it didn’t happen all the time.”

  “About once every couple of months, he calls me and I go to him.”

  Lance seemed to think about that. “Once every couple of months is tolerable.”

  “This might not be—I don’t want kids,” she said, giving him a “take that” stare.

  “I already have a kid,�
�� Lance countered.

  “I don’t want to get married,” Nora shot back.

  “I’ve already been married.” Lance raised his eyebrow in a two-can-play-this-game taunt.

  “You keep this up and I’m going to start masturbating on the couch, too.”

  “Was that supposed to be a threat?”

  “It was,” Nora said with a sigh. “I think I need to work on my threatening skills.”

  “I think I need to come.”

  “I think you need to come too as much as I need to watch you come.” Nora rolled up onto her knees and scooted closer to Lance. “Will you come for me? Just a request, not an order.”

  “Since you asked so nicely…” He turned his head and smiled at her, a lazy, sexy, seductive smile with a glinting twinkle in his eyes that made her feel like she’d just eased into a hot bath. And like a woman soaking in a hot bath, she was undeniably wet.

  “I wish I could help,” she said as his hand started to move faster.

  “You are helping. Just being around you makes me hard.”

  “I know I’m cute but that’s quite a compliment.”

  “It’s not the way you look,” he said, his voice getting breathless. She raised her eyebrow at him. “Okay, not entirely. The world is full of beautiful women, but there are so few of them like you.”

  “And what am I like?”

  “You’re like a queen. You’re strong and fearless. Men serve you. They want to serve you. Hell, they should serve you. You don’t answer to anybody. You don’t apologize to anyone. You walked into that judge’s house like you owned it. You beat the shit out of a billionaire. You put the moves on me faster, harder, and smoother than any soldier, sailor, or Marine ever put on any girl in any bar in the history of the world. You make me wish we lived a thousand years ago. I’d slay dragons for you, Mistress.”

  “I like dragons.”

  “Then I’d tame one and bring it to you as tribute, complete with collar.”

  “Do you want to wear my collar, Lance?” Nora asked, the question coming out before she even realized what she was saying.

  “I’d wear it with pride, Mistress. Every night of my life.”

  Nora reached out and laid a hand on his neck, pressing lightly into his throat, making a collar out of her fingers. Lance closed his eyes, let his head fall back.

  “Are you fantasizing?” Nora asked, pulsing her hand against his neck.

  “Yes and no. It’s just images right now.”

  “Tell me.”

  “You…naked.”

  “Good image.”

  “And on top of me. I love being tied down,” Lance confessed, his hand moving faster on himself.

  “You look amazing in leather wrist and ankle cuffs. I bet with your body you’d look incredible in a black leather chest harness. Maybe some armbands for those amazing biceps of yours.”

  “I’m fantasizing about you fucking me, and you’re fantasizing about dressing me up?”

  “It’s a girl thing. You have a great body. I’d love to show it off to the world. Or at least my kinky little corner of it.”

  “Gorgeous body? You’ve forgotten the scars.”

  “Scars are sexy. Scars mean you’ve lived.”

  Nora felt Lance’s pulse beating against her hand, growing harder every second. “What else do you see, Lance?”

  He opened his eyes and looked at her. “A future with you. Maybe.”

  Nora swallowed and whispered, “Big maybe. Now come for me.”

  With a soft gasp, he came, semen shooting out and landing on his stomach.

  “God, I needed that,” he said, his body relaxing deep into the couch.

  “I could tell.”

  “And I think I need a tissue. Maybe three…” He glanced down at the semen decorating his stomach and laughed. She adored him for the laugh because it meant he had no shame, no embarrassment about his body, about his sexuality. Many of her submissive clients were ashamed, embarrassed, and scared to come out of the closet. Not Lance. Not at all.

  “Let me,” she said, dipping her head. With a quick flick of her tongue she lapped up a small patch of semen. Lance groaned as he slid a hand into her hair.

  “You’re a sadist, Mistress Nora.”

  She looked up at him with a wicked grin on her face. “You’re like the perfect male submissive. How did that happen? I want twelve of you.”

  Lance gave her a half-smile. “I have this drive to be perfect at things,” he said. “Always have. I was the five-year-old kid who made Lego houses you could live in. I wanted to be the perfect Navy SEAL, and I was until I got wounded. I tried to be the perfect husband and then the perfect father. That blew up in my face. Now, at least I can be the perfect sub. With you anyway. With you and for you, Mistress.”

  Nora grabbed a box of tissues off the end table.

  “Here. Clean up. We’ll go get some lunch or something. If we don’t get you out of this house soon, I won’t be held accountable for the things I do to you.”

  She slid across him and headed to her bathroom. Halfway there she heard the klaxon tone of her hotline phone blaring from her kitchen. She took a detour and grabbed the phone.

  “King?” Nora asked as she answered the phone. “Any news?”

  “Bad news first.”

  “What’s the bad news?”

  “The man who attacked Natasha?”

  “What about him?”

  “Elle...he broke into your dungeon.”

  Part IV: Fit to be Tied

  “What? He was in my dungeon?” Nora demanded.

  “That’s also the good news.”

  “Please tell me someone caught him in the act.”

  “Let’s just say you owe our friend Griffin Fiske a debt of gratitude. I can guess in what form he’ll take repayment.”

  “Griffin?”

  “I underestimated Griffin. He’d make an excellent bodyguard. I should apologize to the man.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “Let’s just say you’re going to need a new rug, Maîtresse. Yours is…bloody. And the culprit is in the hospital.”

  Nora listened for a few minutes as Kingsley told her the story. They hung up and Nora returned to the living room and found Lance picking his shirt up off the floor.

  “You’re not going to need that,” she said, nodding at the shirt in his hands.

  “Why not?”

  “They caught him. And by ‘they,’ I mean my friend Griffin caught him breaking into my dungeon. Griffin beat the shit out of the guy.”

  “Thank God you weren’t there.” Lance sounded genuinely relieved.

  “I know. I wouldn’t have been nearly as merciful as Griffin. I would have killed him and then gotten arrested. Again. If he laid a finger on my red-and-black riding crop, I swear to God I’ll rip his heart out.”

  “This is the guy who beat up Mistress Natasha? They’re sure?”

  “Natasha came to a couple of hours ago. She knew the guy—a client of hers with money trouble. King was right. Just a robbery. He got five-thousand dollars off Natasha. Decided to see if the other dominatrixes in the city also kept cash on them. Has a nasty drug problem apparently. Owed a lot of money.”

  “I want to beat the shit out of him, too. Why does this Griffin guy get to have all the fun?”

  “Speaking of having all the fun…you know what this means, right?”

  “Tell me,” Lance said, a smiling forming on his lips.

  “You’re not my bodyguard anymore.”

  Lance let his shirt drop from his fingers. This time he didn’t bother to fold the damn thing.

  “Good boy.”

  Lance followed her up the stairs. The second he stepped into her bedroom, Nora shoved him hard against the wall and kissed him with everything in her.

  “This is what’s going to happen,” she said, between soft bites of his lips. “I’m going to cuff you to my bed. Then I’m going to decorate the front of your body with a set of welts and bruises to match the set on you
r back. And then I’m going to climb on your cock and ride it until it breaks off. You have any objections to that plan?”

  “Only the part about my cock breaking off, Mistress.” He started to reach for her but Nora caught his hands and pressed them into the wall.

  “That was erotic hyperbole.”

  “Then no, I have no objections.”

  “Good. Not that I would have changed my plans if you did. You’re mine today.”

  “All yours. Every part of me.”

  Nora’s heart clenched at the solemn tone of his pledge. If only she could believe that, if only she could keep him. Then again…maybe he meant it. Maybe she could keep him. Maybe she would keep him.

  “Get rid of the clothes. Pull the covers back. Lay in the center of the bed. Say hello to my ceiling. Now.” She snapped her fingers and Lance immediately unzipped his pants. He’d just come a few minutes ago but she could see that he was already getting aroused again.

  As Lance moved to follow her orders—naked, covers back, center of bed, hello ceiling—Nora threw open her closet and dug for supplies. Playing on the front of the body required a bit more finesse than the back did. With the thicker skin on the back of the body, one had to work very hard to do real damage back there. But the front of the body had all those pesky internal organs to deal with.

  Nora found her smallest, thinnest cane—a white plastic little beauty no bigger than a conductor’s baton. She also found her smallest flogger with the thin, sharp tails. She didn’t know if Lance liked CBT or not. Guess she’d find out.

  “Comfortable there?” she asked, emerging from her closet with all the necessary supplies.

  “I want to die in this bed.” Lance stretched out, luxuriating on her black sheets. Goddamn, the man should be legally required to be naked constantly.

  “I’m not into necrophilia,” Nora said.

  “I want to live in this bed.”

  “Better,” she said as she opened the side table drawer. She pushed aside her vibrator collection and dug until she found the wrist and ankle cuffs she kept in a box. “Keep enjoying the bed. I’m not planning on letting you out of it for a few hours.”

  “Can’t think of any better way to spend a Sunday.”

  “Helluva a lot better than church anyway. Now give me your wrist.”