by L. DuBois
A sob exploded from her, helped along by a hard spank that thrust her shoulders against the stocks.
Her gaze met his. Her Master.
He was there. He was watching. She’d known, deep down, that he would be there. That he wouldn’t leave her to suffer alone.
She watched his arm flex as he pushed Luscious’s head down, his cock disappearing into her mouth.
Strangers were spanking her and putting their mouths on her while she was helpless, and her Master was watching it all happen while another woman sucked his cock.
She was heartbroken.
She was aroused.
She’d never felt more submissive.
Rosa held his gaze, then let her lids lower. He was here, he was watching. He wanted her to suffer like this, so she would. For him. For herself. Because maybe if they could really be master and submissive they could save their relationship outside of this place.
Maybe he would listen to her and need her. Maybe he would love her again.
Liam couldn’t look away. He’d positioned himself so he was at an angle to the stocks, able to see Rosa’s face and her nearly naked body. His view was periodically obstructed by the people who gathered around her, laying their hands on her.
He couldn’t forget the way Rosa had fought to get to him, and had been forced to bite down on his objection when Master Khan had ordered the punishment. She needed Master Khan; someone like him could satisfy her as a Dom.
Maybe she hadn’t been fighting for him. Maybe she’d been objecting to him selecting Luscious because she just wanted to be touched. He’d checked in with Master Khan several times over the past two days and he knew that after some girl-on-girl action with Luscious, which Liam had watched, Rosa hadn’t had any direct sexual stimulation.
Hard as he might try and convince himself of that, his heart was sure that she’d been jealous because she wanted to be with him.
Even if that was true, what did it mean? It didn’t change the fact that they were terrible for each other.
He’d pulled Luscious to the back of the crowd, put her on her knees and then settled in to watch, his pants firmly zipped. But then…
But then as he’d watched Rosa scanning the crowd, he’d known she was looking for him. Every time her gaze swept past where he’d been, he’d ducked behind someone else.
He saw the play of emotion over her face. Desire, sadness, embarrassment, arousal. All those emotions had flickered over her familiar features, yet it was as if he was seeing her for the first time. He watched other men touch her, their hands spanking her ass, reaching under her to fondle her breasts, their mouths biting down on her skin.
He’d watched them, and though he’d been jealous, he’d also been wildly aroused. He liked watching her being used. He hadn’t know that about himself.
He was a voyeur.
His cock had started aching to the point of pain, so he’d unzipped his pants. Luscious had dashed away, leaving him momentarily confused, only to come back with a thick pad that allowed her to kneel and suck his cock.
The crowd had thinned out, and soon there was nowhere to hide. He’d had a reprieve, because Rosa lowered her head, her hair held in place by the strap of the gag so he had a relatively unobstructed view of her face.
He fisted his hand in Luscious’s hair, and pressed her down on his cock, until the head hit the back of her throat.
He felt like an asshole, but the woman who was currently sucking his cock didn’t matter. She was just a form of temporary relief, a tool in this scene he was having with Rosa.
For the first time in a long time, he felt like a Master. It was as if he understood how to be a Dom in a new way.
That made no sense, because he hadn’t been the one to orchestrate this. He was only incidental and, if he was wrong about Rosa looking for him, then he really was just a voyeur.
The calm, rational part of him kept throwing up these thoughts, kept insisting that he was being ridiculous and, worse, overly emotional. Maybe it was some sort of weird post-relationship-death-euphoria.
Rosa looked up and, for the first time, she spotted him.
Her eyes widened and her lips, which had been pulled back from her teeth, relaxed.
She looked relieved.
His heart thumped hard in his chest. Damn, he loved her. But loving her, and her loving him, wasn’t enough.
He tightened his grip on Luscious’s hair and pushed her head down onto his cock. She’d been upset when he’d chosen Luscious.
This would be the end of them—her watching another woman, a woman he’d chosen over her, suck his cock.
Rosa stared unflinchingly, even as her body jerked as she was spanked. When his cock was deep in Luscious’s mouth, Rosa met his gaze, held it, and then very deliberately lowered her eyes.
Mine. She’s mine. She’s always been mine and will always be mine.
Liam surged to his feet, barely controlling himself long enough to pull Luscious gently off his cock.
Dick wet and hard, he walked across the courtyard. As he passed Master Khan he said, “She’s mine.”
Master Khan nodded and smiled, holding out one arm so Luscious could slide into his embrace.
Liam took Rosa’s head in his hands, dropping into a squat so he could easily meet her gaze.
Her eyes widened when she saw him. Her body jerked and she made a small noise of pain.
Part of him wanted to race around and start throwing punches, punishing those who had dared to hurt her.
He didn’t. Instead he held on to that newly discovered feeling of being a master. Her Master.
There was a darkness inside him, a shadow far at the back of his mind. It was the part of him that in a different place and time would have killed without remorse to get what he wanted. The instinct of a dominant predator, repressed by manners and a sense of decency.
“You deserve to be punished,” he told her quietly.
Rosa’s eyes widened, and then she lowered her gaze and nodded slightly, her head moving in his hands.
Liam rose and unbuckled her gag, letting it fall.
She twisted her head, trying to look up at him, but couldn’t.
He fisted both hands in her hair and brought her mouth to his cock. For a moment she balked. The decent man in him told him to pause, if not stop, and ask her if she was okay. He paused only long enough to look at her hands and make sure she wasn’t giving her non-verbal safe word. She wasn’t.
He let the darkness of his base nature take charge.
He braced one foot on the platform, the head of his cock hitting her cheek, then forced it into her mouth.
She closed her lips around him and sucked hard. He was close, so close that he was about to come, one touch of her mouth doing more than ten minutes of Luscious’s ministrations.
“Pinch her nipples,” he snarled at the people still gathered around her on the other side of the stocks. It was two men and a woman. The woman glanced at one of the men, who nodded. Then she disappeared from view. A second later Rosa moaned around his cock. One of the men raised his hand to spank her again, but Liam shook his head. The man nodded in acknowledgement, stepping down and away. That left only the Dom of the kneeling woman, who stood with his arms crossed, attention on his sub.
Liam couldn’t hold on much longer, but their relative heights, and the angle of her head due to the stocks prevented him from pushing in as deep as she wanted. He pulled out of her mouth, savagely satisfied at the popping noise his cock made.
He circled around behind her, looking at the other Dom. He nodded, then bent and touched his sub’s shoulder. She was crouched down under Rosa, arms raised, fingers clenched on bright pink nipples.
Once the Dom and his sub walked away, Liam stepped up onto the platform. They were alone in the Iron Court. The wind blew, washing cool air over them, and carrying the faint sound of a whip against flesh, coming from some other scene happening elsewhere in Las Palmas. None of that mattered.
Everything he’d ever wan
ted or needed was right here in front of him.
He ran his hands over her ass, which was visibly pink even in the dim light of the courtyard. He could just barely see a few uneven ovals that would darken to hickeys.
“Spread,” he ordered.
She heel-toed her legs apart, lowering her ass to the perfect level. He pressed the heel of his left hand on the small of her back, forcing her to arch, tipping her pussy towards him, and grabbed his cock with his right hand.
He leaned forward, angled his cock into place, and slid deep. Being in her was like coming home, as ridiculous as that seemed. Even as his softer side thought that, sighing in relief that he had her, that he hadn’t lost her, his darker side, the part that seemed to understand something about being a Dom that he hadn’t until now, roared that she wasn’t home.
She was his.
Liam came, harder than he had since he’d been a teenager and sex had been a novelty, each ejaculation a life-changing level of pleasure. He ground himself into her, pressing his pelvis hard against her.
“Master, please, please!” She was screaming with need. “Master. Master.”
Every time she said it another bolt of pleasure shot through him. Normally he would pull out enough to reach between their bodies and touch her clit, but not this time. He pressed her lower back, forcing her into an even deeper arch, until he could rub his balls against her pussy. He knew when he’d gotten it right, when he was on her clit, because she screamed, a genuine scream, not a little startled sound of pleasure, which he might have called a scream before now.
Before he knew what it really meant to make a woman scream as if her life was in danger from the force of her orgasm.
Rosa’s body clenched tight around his cock, milking him, pulling on him.
She was like a vise, trying to keep him, hold him in place, even though he was her master and she belonged to him. To remind her of that he pulled out, and then thrust into her orgasm tight body once more.
This time it wasn’t a scream but a sob and her knees started to buckle. He braced his feet and slid an arm under her, holding her up.
Their panting breaths drowned out the sounds of the night, seeming to fill the darkness, even as cool air chilled their sweat-slicked skin.
Liam wanted to stay like this, deep inside her, but he had to take care of her.
After all, she was his.
Five
The drive home was silent. It started out comfortable, but as her submissive euphoria vanished, her body began to ache, and she started to fidget. As her physical discomfort increased, the silence in the car started to wear on her nerves. Seeking to alleviate the feeling, and seeking comfort from her aches and pains, she rested her hand on the center console, fingers dangling over onto his side, an invitation for him to hold her hand.
He glanced briefly at her, then at the clock on the dash, and frowned. They’d stayed at Las Palmas later than they should have—it was now technically Monday and they both had to be at work in the morning. Her job was more flexible than his, so she could go in at noon if she wanted. Lately she’d been doing that, and not coming home until nine at night. That had minimized the amount of time they spent together. He was usually gone in the morning before she woke up, preferring to be at work by six a.m., and ending his day at four p.m., then going either to the gym, or to the co-working space he rented to work on his own projects and proposals. He was usually almost ready for bed by the time she walked in the door.
She wouldn’t do that anymore. She’d go in early, and be home by five or six. They could stop eating separately, and either go out or cook together. Maybe they’d get one of those meal-in-a-box delivery services that came with ingredients and instructions.
He stroked the back of her hand with one finger, then put his hand on the wheel, handling the car with ease on the twisting roads out of Malibu. The good thing about the late hour was that they made it back to their condo in Century City in record time.
He pulled into the underground parking, then came around to open her door. For all the distance that had existed between them, he’d always had scrupulous manners. He almost always opened her door when they were together, but it felt different this time. It felt caring, instead of habitual.
She put her hand in his, and wished she were wearing something flowing and feminine instead of the jeans and t-shirt she’d worn to work on Friday and put back on before leaving the club.
She put her hand in his, allowing him to draw her out of the car. Once she was standing she went onto her toes, put a hand on his cheek, and kissed him.
He hesitated for a moment, as if surprised, then his arms slid around her, crossing then at the small of her back. Oh, how she’d missed this.
His hand slid down to cup her ass and she jerked back, hissing out a breath as pain zinged through her.
Liam immediately released her, worry lines etched in his face.
Rosalicia laughed softly and took his hand. “I’m okay. Just a little sore.”
His expression didn’t change. Pulling his hand from hers, he grabbed their overnight bags out of the car, then motioned for her to precede him to the elevator.
Rosalicia’s stomach knotted, but she told herself not to panic. What they’d done had been intense. He was probably just processing it all. He wasn’t pulling away. Things weren’t going back to the way they had been.
Once in the elevator, as if he could hear what she was thinking, Liam leaned in at an angle and kissed her, making sure no part of their bodies touched except their lips.
She cradled his beloved face, stroking his cheekbones with her thumbs.
When the elevator door opened, she wrapped her hand around his, so they were both holding one of the bags, and pulled him out. Their front door had never seemed so welcoming, or so much like home.
He set down the bags and opened the door.
They’d sunk every penny and bit of credit they had into buying the condo ten years ago. It had been a financially lean few years while they both struggled to make the mortgage payment, but luckily their careers had taken off and that financial pressure had eased. Other pressures and stresses had reared their ugly heads.
They’d talked, in the good times, about remodeling. Because cash had been tight when they bought, everything inside was cheap builder grade.
She looked around after they’d stepped inside, seeing not the condo as it was, but as it could be. She had an idea for how to remodel the kitchen, taking out a useless half wall, expanding it a bit so there was a large island with seating space on one side. With just a few changes it would be the perfect entertaining space. Maybe if she had the perfect space they’d actually entertain.
There had been other remodel plans that hadn’t focused so much on entertaining, but on being homey.
For the first time in a long time she dared think about the future. Not that future she’d spent years envisioning, a future that had died several years ago. It was a different future, but a good one.
He came up behind her, laying his hands gently on her shoulders. She leaned back against him, twisting to kiss his jaw.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Thank you?”
“Yes. Thank you. For…for everything.”
He rubbed his stubbly chin on her temple. “I wish it wasn’t so late. I have to go in tomorrow, and I’m leaving for Seattle at four.”
“You’re going out of town tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t tell me.” She swallowed her irritation. She hated it when he didn’t tell her things like this. Over the years they’d tried a million different systems—paper and digital calendars, alerts, even project management software.
He kissed her temple again. “We should get to bed. I can sleep in the spare room so I don’t wake you up when I leave.”
“No, no. I want you in bed with me.”
He made a rumbling sound that vibrated her back where she leaned against him. “I want that too.”
“
But I think we need to shower.”
He chuckled. “I’ll get it warmed up for you.” He took a few steps then paused, looking back. “I need to take care of you.”
“You are,” she assured him. “This is perfect.”
She followed him into the master bedroom, taking time to unpack her bag while he went into the master bath. The panties went into the hamper, her corsets she laid in a special box in the closet.
“It’s ready,” Liam stood in the closet doorway, looking solid and so familiar her chest ached.
She was kneeling, the lid of the corset box still open. He stepped closer, looking over her shoulder at the contents of the box.
“I don’t remember that red one.” His voice had lowered an octave, and seemed to rumble through her.
Rosalicia leaned back against his leg, for no particular reason except that she wanted to touch him. “I haven’t had a chance to wear it yet.”
“Next time.” It wasn’t a question. It was a command.
She tipped her head back against his thigh, looking up at him. “Yes…”
She’d almost said Master, but that word was hard to say here, in the closet where she got dressed every morning.
He grinned at her, teeth flashing white. “Good.”
He reached down, hooked his hands under her armpits, and hauled her to her feet.
Placing another kiss on his jaw, she went to the bathroom. Warm steam enveloped her, fogging the mirror. She took a deep breath and stripped, wincing a little as her body let her know that she would be feeling every swat and bite in the morning.
Not wanting to waste any more water, she stepped into the glass shower. The hot water hurt a bit as it sluiced over her nipples, which had been plucked and pulled more than she was used too, and her well-spanked ass, which was plenty warm without the hot water.
She washed her hair and shaved her legs, twisting and turning to examine the hickeys that dotted her legs, particularly the sides and back of her thighs.
The bathroom door opened “’Licia?”
She smiled to hear him using the familiar nickname. They were home. She was ’Licia, he was Liam. Master Liam—Master Bland no more—and Rosa were left at the club, a healthy separation that she didn’t mind now that she knew what it could be like between them. She dipped once more under the shower head, then stepped out onto the mat, not bothering to turn off the water, since he’d probably be getting in.