Salt Kissed Love (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 1)

by Kailee Reese Samuels

  The vast assortment of apparatus and gear make even the best of Doms at Juliet jealous. Every sub wants to be under her, every Dom needs to wield her power. I believe Jack comes the closest, on both notes, but I have listened to the wrong song all along.

  Because none of it belongs to Serene.

  Cool and controlled, Jack leads me to the St. Andrew’s cross, tethering my arms up and spreading my legs. “How are you, Precious?”

  Smiling, I nod, “I am good, Sir. Thank you for asking. How are you?”

  “Honestly, Iris, I am thrilled you took my offer.” I smirk knowing otherwise as he finishes buckling my feet into the clips. “Hard limits?”

  “Only my husband,” I say, not wanting Chance to come into play and suddenly realizing—this is the biggest mistake I can make.

  Running his hand along my cheek, Jack replies, “You got it. Any soft ones?”

  My lips twitch. “I think you already know who my soft limit is.”

  He cackles and brushes his mouth against mine as he pulls everything taut. Taking a knife, he slits the sisal collar, replacing it with a cool silver collar and harness clipped around my breasts. In addition, he attaches a brilliantly sharp weighted charm to each nipple causing a gasp to fall from my lips. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Sir, if it pleases you.”

  “Have you had that gorgeous corset on your puss locked up yet?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Then I’m going to be the first.” Walking to the large workbench with drawers, he opens one, studying the leather lacing and replacing it hastily. “Iris, will you be good?” He grins with a glance in my direction. “Or do I need to weave something indestructible through the hoops?”

  “I’m going to behave,” I properly answer, and then add, “Duh, Sir.”

  Chuckling quietly, he cuts about eighteen inches of wide silken ribbon as his blue eyes blink up. “Smartass.”

  “Yes, Sir. Always.”

  Lacing up the dozen silver hoops is the easy part. Tightening it is slightly uncomfortable. My tender bits are moshed and pushed together. Ironically, the act of being laced turns me on as my fold’s slick together. “Sir?”

  He breathes, “Yes?”

  “Um,” I say, tilting my head one way and then the other.

  “If necessary, you’ll piss through it, doll. We’ll clean you up tomorrow.”

  His lips brush against my puss as if sealing it with a kiss. I don’t realize I am being prepped as he lifts up, biting my lower lip rather painfully and causing it to swell. “Iris, you look simply stunning.”

  I embrace it, not having felt this sexy in gear since HLO. The silver collar and nipple chain glimmer against my creamy porcelain skin. The weight of the silver chain with a single magnetic ball attaches at the end, and more could be added, too. The silken ribbon draws attention with its deep, sensual pink color tied into a bow at my apex. The thickness of the bow rubs against the clitoral hood piercing, causing even further arousal. With every precise move by Jack, the ribbon dampens further in my splendor.

  I never anticipate my body becoming so eager and willing. Something in my psyche clicks underneath the touch of a Master. I give them my trust and in doing so, I learn to fly.

  With my willingness to try anything, I approach every scene as an opportunity for personal growth. I have yet to curtail any activity, and that makes me highly sought after on the Juliet training grounds.

  Standing in front of my trapped body, Jack paces in circles around me as he carries a flogger and scans over my skin shimmering in the dim lights. I lower my lashes and notice my ink peeking out from between the slats of the cross—the mural of the ocean with stark white doves—peacefully awaiting reckoning.

  Abruptly with much haste, the tails of the flogger swish against the back of my upper thigh. Jack moans contently as I gather in his aroma walking past, always clean. I want him to do it again. And again. I pray he will, but not knowing when only adds to the anticipation.

  The tails grace the other thigh, so benign in his strokes, he drives my senses wild. I like it rough. While it isn’t necessarily the pain I seek, the rush of being in subspace offers the greatest mind-altering substance ever. Much like my friends and professors warned, once having a tiny taste, I would find addiction—craving more and more.

  Sex is not a requirement for a good scene. I love a good orgasm as much as anyone, but BDSM and sex separate early on for me. Sometimes, they merge, but that is rare. I suspect after this scene with Jack, he will undoubtedly end up inside of my aching walls, pushing harder with every hip thrust. A trust exists in that act alone—sex in sub heaven. To have that kind of intimacy in the subspace requires a deep level of responsibility and trust, one I am aware Jack is more than capable of handling. If he will just hurry up and let go…

  “Hi!” her voice warms, surprising and catching me off guard. My body stiffens and panics.

  “Relax, girl. Relax.” Jack’s fingers twirl the ends of my hair. “Evening, Steph.”

  Her hand caresses my cheek. “How are you doing?”

  “We’re good,” he replies with a smirk. “You?”

  Immediately, my thoughts focus to Sal. And how I left him that day—drunk and broken-hearted—struggling to keep his emotional balance. Although I cradled his fragile state this morning at the cemetery, I cannot forget how misaligned we were in our passion.

  I desperately want to ask Serene if he is doing better now, but to do so reveals our secret—kept among three—Serene, Sal, and I. Her hand drifts to my inner thigh as she lowers and says, “You healed up nice. The corset is beautiful. I wish I would have been there.”

  Holy. Shit.

  Her words entangle me, knowing that she doctored the wounds from across the pond. After my initiation video made its way around campus, I took to nightly face chats with the Mistress of Mayhem. But I play the role, acting like Serene doesn’t even know about the corset as I stutter, “Thank you, Ma’am.”

  Some slaves never say a word, but unless told otherwise I engage in conversation if a Master speaks to me. Anything else would have been impolite and disrespectful in my eyes.

  “Would you like her for the evening?” Jack asks as a silence came over the room. By the expressive smirk on Serene’s face, I know she is actually considering it.

  “Would you join me if I said yes, Jack?”

  “Absolutely, gorgeous!”

  I want to scream with excitement. I have never been truly topped by Serene, and the opportunity presents as both an honor and a privilege.

  Kicking off her shoes, she heads to the cabinet. “Safeword?”

  “Dandelion, Ma’am.”

  She smiles and tosses her strawberry blonde locks over her shoulder. “Limits?”

  “None,” I answer as Jack cocks a brow at me.

  “Quite a find you have here Jack. I think I am jealous.”

  Oh, my God. Wow.

  Apprehensive about what the night could bring, my hands tremble with an anxious sweat. A compliment from Serene holds weight like no other. One of the best Dominas in the world, she is neither quick to praise or to give a personal opinion. She has done both, and the butterflies swim double time in my belly. Having grown accustom to long sessions, I can typically control the nerves and keep them at bay, but Serene brings her own swarm with her presence.

  Carefully, she pulls the weights off my nipples—now vibrant, reddened points. A slight moan escapes my lips as the pain from having them removed surges through my body. Serene touches her chin with her finger, rubbing slightly and contemplating her next move for which nothing could prepare me for.

  “Tell me, Iris, do you like Sal?”

  Immediately, I contort, struggling with my emotions and the tethers of my confinement. Soft limit pushed. It is no secret that I developed an enormous crush on Sal over the last months.

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  She smiles, pulling the clip out of my hair and fluffing it up. “This is gorgeous.”

/>   “Thank you, Mistress.”

  Serene moves closer, easing her way into my space. I inhale an air full of her cinnamon breath as she whispers, “You are fucking gorgeous.”

  Her assessment means I am right to have believed she never paid much attention to me. She hasn’t despite being on cam. And now that she has, I freak with trembling, sweaty palms.

  Circling around the cross, she proposes the unimaginable. “I’d really like to whip you, but it’s a little chilly for a proper whipping outside…at least for a girl unaccustomed to it.”

  High on the moment and her words, I gaze quizzical, wanting and wishing she would take me outside. Please imbue me with the stokes you give to him. Grant me this one request. I study her though, and I know—she much like Jack—reigns in her urges. Briefly, I once again feel unworthy of Masters such as them.

  “Ask me anything,” Serene says, pulling up a chair like we are about to engage in high tea.

  Biting my lip, I eye the woman. “Who taught you?”

  Crossing her legs, she clasps her hands together and speaks in a calm, casual—friendly—manner. Not at all like I expect her hard-hitting Dom reputation to bring, more like the friend I found across the wire. “A lot of wonderful Masters were great teachers. Some of them are dead and gone now. Though, I actually got my whip skills from my father. He was everything a man should be.”

  Taking a silken black blindfold emblazoned with an S out of a box, Jack listens in. His former Mistress holds her own as he beams with a proudness like a strange sense of completion in a job well done with me—a well-trained submissive. Covering my eyes, Jack smiles, and then I hear the door shut as he leaves me alone with the woman that is Dominatrix Serene.

  SAL

  The Farmhouse property consists of seven hundred acres of mostly uncultivated, raw lands. There is plenty of livestock, including long horned cattle, horses, a couple of pet pigs, and chickens. While it can easily become a working farm, it is far too picturesque with the old farmhouse, outbuildings, and windmill to be anything other than a tranquil dream space.

  Originally, Serene’s father bought and restored the house for his beloved wife and their children. Though built in the 1800’s, the Victorian estate provides the most modern amenities inside. On the outside, the dungeon and stables embrace a love of wood crafting.

  I designed and constructed them both hands-on. I hired help, but everything completed under my watchful eye. Though I was the son of generations worth of fisherman, my grandfather dabbled in construction his entire life. The architectural drawings for Raniero Fisheries’ main buildings were done by him when I was no more than knee-high. With my grandfather’s approach to being involved in every piece of lumber to the bolts that held it all together, I learned quickly.

  When I first started working for Serene, I wanted to provide her a suitable outbuilding for a dungeon. Together we designed the space, insuring everything was done according to our specifications, but it was literally the dungeon I built. Now, as I stand in the waiting room, I know all too well that it will also be the dungeon I seek shelter in. Of course, I never knew I would end up the solitary owner of it all.

  With bare feet, jeans, and white t-shirt, I pace anxiously for Serene to call me from the staging area. The door opens and I expect Serene to be dolled up like any other night, but this isn’t any other night. Tonight is special as she assures me I will receive my present. I just don’t know how special.

  “Evening, Raniero,” Serene says, casually dressed.

  “Good evening, Ma’am,” I reply, my expression breaks my composure as I am stunned by her attire.

  I have no idea what is going on as Jack steps in from outside. My heart rate speeds up and my body tenses with fear. I am not in the mood for doubles with the terrible two—Serene and Jack—both flanking me.

  I hastily curtail the thought with an objection. “Steph…”

  “Here are the keys. Lock us out,” she replies, leaning closer and kissing me on the cheek. Giggling like a giddy schoolgirl, she takes the arm of Jack and opens the main door. “Happy Belated Christmas, Kid. Have fun!”

  “Be good, son,” Jack warns with a shake of my hand. “That is still contractually mine—despite your request. Don’t you dare harm her, or I will make sure you never see her again.”

  Stunned by things actually going according to plan, I mutter, “How long?”

  “She is yours…do with her as you see fit,” Jack relays, laying his hand on my shoulder. “Just don’t harm.”

  His warning sounds more like a father to a boyfriend on his daughter’s first date—something I have never actually encountered. Sweat beads up quick on my neck as I realize my angel awaits just behind the dungeon door.

  “Sal, her safeword, as always, is dandelion and you should know, she broke into your shrine,” Jack says solemnly as he shuts the door. I try to breathe, locking the door behind them. Only two sets of keys exist for the playroom. Without any warning, I suddenly have both of them in my possession. And even more importantly, I have her.

  Drying my sweaty, shaking hands on my jeans, I notice my knuckles still swollen. I crack open the door slow as my mouth falls to the floor at the sight of her suspended on the cross.

  Blindfolded with those fucking bright pink ear buds in that attach to her phone strapped to the cross. She cannot hear. She cannot see. She damn sure cannot touch.

  Taking her in at my own pace, I smirk gloatingly.

  Walking closer, I swing a wide circle around her several times. Her tiny hands fist into balls and bounce along with the music. Her red painted fingernails cup as her wrists remain shackled by the wide leather bands. Her long red hair splays everywhere, indented only by the black blindfold. Her perfect pink lips twitch as she sings along to the song.

  I grin again and cannot restrain my slight giggle. She has no clue I am here. This is perfection. My Masters did good.

  Stepping closer, I pull the silver cross off my neck and touch her skin. Startling her with a brush of my hand, I tuck my hands beneath her hair and fasten it closed. I wonder if she knows who just collared her pretty self.

  Iris tries to not smile, but the corner of her lips perk up with a curious delight. Her day of reckoning, she is mine to do with as I please. I blow on her lips and cause her to smile. Her perfectly sweet giggle fills the air. No doubt she believes it is either Serene or Jack.

  Approaching even closer, her nose flutters as she smells the air and recognizes the scent.

  Oh, fuck me.

  “Sal, is that you?” she speaks barely hearing her own voice with the blare of music in her ears.

  Face to face, my fingers touch hers with gentle, sensuous caresses. She gasps, and I kiss her lightly on the lips.

  “Sal? Sal?” she begs excitedly.

  The music stops as I unplug the phone from the brace. Pulling her ear buds out, I am quiet. Breathing slow, she bites her lip and dares to ask, “Sal? Come on, who is it?”

  The blindfold tumbles and the brightness of the candles burning in the room sting her eyes as she blinks repeatedly.

  Propping against the side of the cross, I smirk mischievously and ask, “Let’s be more than this, shall we?”

  “Oh, my God, you’re here!”

  “That’s not how you should respond. You’re better trained than that,” I reprimand.

  Turning inward, I face her with my best sexy glare. Inhaling deep, she closes her eyes and smiles as she squeals, “Yes, Sir.”

  Looking her up and down, I pace methodically slow around her as our eyes lock upon each other. “Since we are going to do this, I want you to see and hear me.”

  “You collared me.”

  Standing before the giant pegboard full of toys, I examine several in my hand by their weight and swing. “Unfortunately, it is temporary. But I assure you one day,” I say, glancing at her with a strict looking riding crop in my hand. “You will be mine.”

  “I already am.”

  I grin, arrogant and cocky as I rest
my hands up on the bar. “Tell me, what do you really want, out of anything here? Tell me…”

  Lowering her lashes, she stares at the ground as she is suspended about six inches up. “You. I want you.”

  I catapult down with a thud in front of her and abruptly swat her sweet ass with my hand. “You have me all to yourself, so pick your poisons, princess.”

  IRIS

  “Get me down from here and show me your world,” I plead with a bat of my lashes. “Bring me the broken man I witnessed this morning, and let him love me.”

  “That was before I knew you wanted to kill me,” he replies, bounding back to the rack again. His monkeying abilities do nothing but fluster me. His white dress shirt hangs open, teasing my eyes with hard, chiseled muscles covered in ink. He is gorgeous underneath those clothes, more so underneath his flesh. “Besides, you know my feelings on that. I cannot until you are mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

  His.

  God, I want to be his.

  “So, make me yours and don’t let me go,” I negotiate the deal on the spot.

  Swinging from the bar, he says, “I can’t.”

  “You can do whatever you want,” I argue. “You put me here in this castle for a reason.”

  “I put you here to keep you breathing. Technically, the contractual obligation is under Jack. Privately, I did it. I asked him to get you here for me,” he informs with a big swing, landing even closer to me.

  “Because I am in danger…”

  “Exactly…”

  “Mr. Raniero, if I am so much danger, aren’t I best kept safe with you?”

  “You’re best hidden. Why?” he says, stripping off his shirt and revealing skin I want to devour. “You want to take a field trip on my past and compare notes, Ms. Kettles?”

  “You mean…leave Sugargrove?”

  “Ya, well, for a bit,” he suggests, cracking his neck and knuckles. “I mean if you want to go with me.”

  “Lucas…” I whisper slow. “I am not going to hurt you.”