Mischief and the Masters

by Cherise Sinclair

  Under his hard hand, fiery pain spread over her bottom, and she was gasping and kicking and squirming.

  Yet, somehow, the heat flared elsewhere, as well. Her pussy throbbed and tingled.

  When he stopped to slide his fingers through her drenched folds, a delicious thrill flared to life. He pressed one finger inside her, igniting a storm of excitement, and her urgent moan was humiliating.

  “It appears someone should have pushed you before.” He deliberately rubbed over her clit, firmly, far too expertly.

  When she squirmed, he simply pressed harder on her shoulders, and continued to stroke, driving her up and up and up.

  Everything inside her coiled into a hard knot, every sense focused on those expert fingers. Her legs trembled as she hovered on the edge of orgasm and could only whimper.

  “Oh, you’re a definite pleasure.” Moving his hand, he smacked her three more times, shockingly hard, before his finger returned to glide right over the top of her clit. Once. Twice.

  She came.

  Overwhelming, terrifying pleasure broke over her and shook her like a doll. When he thrust two hard fingers inside her, she fell into an ocean of sensation, tumbling over and over.

  With his merciless touch, he drew out every iota of her orgasm until she lay over his thighs as limp as a rain-soaked shirt.

  Even his hand rubbing over her tender bottom only elicited a whispered whine.

  “Up you come, sweetheart.” When he lifted her and arranged her on his lap, she buried her face against his neck. Each breath brought her his aftershave, a clean scent like walking through a summer meadow. When he tangled his fingers in her hair, tugging at the ends, she sighed happily, pleased she’d worn it in a style he could play with.

  Eventually, reality slid back into focus, and she stiffened.

  “What’s bothering you, love?”

  She lifted her head and met his gaze. His eyes were amazing. Never the same color twice. The tawny golden brown around the pupil somehow transformed into a wide dark green rim.

  “Uzuri?”

  “Oh. Um.” What had she been worried about? “It’s that I…”

  When he rubbed her back, she realized she was completely naked and sitting on his lap. He was still dressed.

  His full lips twitched with his amusement. “Go on.”

  “How could you get me off? You spanked me, and it hurt, but it felt…exciting, too. No one ever…” When Jarvis had hit her, all she’d felt was pain. What she’d felt with other Doms had been a far cry from this.

  “Ah.” He tucked her head back against his chest, and she cuddled into him. The sense of safety was like being wrapped in a soft, sun-warmed blanket. “I can only guess, pet.”

  She smiled against his shirt. Such a careful doctor. No wild guesses for hm.

  “I doubt that you’re a masochist who enjoys pain for pain’s sake. However, if you are already aroused, that can be a different matter. Pain often adds to erotic sensations, feeding into what’s already going on. In other instances, possibly you weren’t excited. Or…”

  When he paused, she frowned. “Or what?”

  “Possibly you didn’t trust the other Doms enough to let yourself enjoy anything?”

  “Um. Maybe.” She trusted Holt, but he didn’t make her all hot and bothered. He felt too much like the brother she’d never had. With other Doms, many had been sexy, but she hadn’t truly trusted them.

  WHEN TALKING, WHEN being punished, when coming—and afterward, the little submissive was simply delightful. Alastair rubbed his cheek on her springy mass of black hair. He never knew how she’d wear it from one day to the next, and he was learning the style might offer a clue as to her mood. Tonight, she’d felt free enough to wear it loose.

  The confusion in her voice when she asked him why she’d come after receiving a spanking had been interesting. She had no idea of the splendid compliment she’d given him. What Dom wouldn’t rejoice in knowing a submissive was both aroused and trusting?

  Time to continue with the lesson. No reason that learning had to be only from a book, eh? He rose with her in his arms and chuckled when she grabbed his shirt with both hands. “Relax, pet. I won’t drop you.”

  Her lovely eyes were huge. Tempted beyond his will, Alastair bent his head and took her lips. So sweet.

  When he looked around, he spotted the door to her bedroom and headed that way.

  In subdued blues and creams, her feminine bedroom was a serene retreat. The ruffled blue bed skirt, elaborate Florentine Baroque mirror, and Venetian headboard said she was a romantic at heart. As a doctor, he did enjoy how she kept her world so tidy.

  After laying her on the floral bedspread, he smiled when she struggled to sit up. “No, little miss. On your back. Hands over your head. Legs spread.

  A shiver ran through her, making her full breasts jiggle nicely. The dark nipples were bunched into tight peaks that begged for his mouth.

  For her comfort, he lit the candles on the dresser and turned off the overhead light. Her skin glowed in the soft candlelight, her curves creating tantalizing shadows. The soft music from the living room drifted in.

  Taking his time, he stripped completely and sheathed himself. The spanking and watching her orgasm had left him incredibly hard.

  On the bed, she watched his every move with big eyes, and he realized she’d never seen him unclothed. During their scene together in the Shadowlands, he had cut the session short due to her anxiety.

  The growing heat in her eyes pleased him, although she was also biting her lip nervously as she regarded his cock.

  Monitoring her for any increase in fear, he moved onto the bed and knelt between her open thighs. Leaning forward, he cradled her face and enjoyed a deep, wet kiss, one slow enough to let her know there would be no rushing tonight.

  Her muscles relaxed, her mouth softened. He took—and she gave, generously. Beautifully. Even nicer, she’d been good and kept her arms over her head.

  “You are such a good girl,” he murmured and enjoyed the way her eyes brightened. Could there be anything more appealing than a submissive’s need to please?

  Sitting back, he used his palms and fingertips to explore her neck, the hollow at the base, her sternum, her soft belly. Spreading his hands apart, he moved up, over her ribs, and took possession of her breasts. Warm and soft, heavy in his palms as he pressed them together. Lovely. Unable to resist, he bent and tongued a tight, hard nipple.

  Her chest lifted with her sudden inhalation, and he smiled.

  What male didn’t like a reaction like that? “Do you know how beautiful you are, woman?”

  The stunned pleasure in her eyes said she didn’t.

  Her hands remained over her head, and as he licked around her nipple, he laid his palm over her right upper arm to monitor her response. Carefully, he closed his teeth on the areola, bearing down slowly until, under his hand, her muscles tightened in protest.

  There. “Easy, sweetheart.” Lifting his head, he licked over the tender nipple.

  She was panting for breath.

  He reached down to fondle her pussy and smiled at the increased slickness. For his own pleasure, he inserted a finger as he bent to her other breast.

  He licked, nibbled, and teased until her breast swelled, then he bit that nipple gently. Before reaching her pain limit, he stopped.

  Her cunt had tightened around his finger like a vise.

  “It seems you like that. Don’t you?”

  She shook her head.

  Still not being completely honest with herself, was she? He merely smiled as he studied her face. Her eyes were glazed with passion, lips and cheeks darkly flushed.

  To increase her sense of surrender, he pinned her wrists above her head with one hand and teased her breasts with the other. It didn’t take much to have her squirming in need.

  It seemed that with Uzuri, arousal mixed with the right amount of pain would drive her to the edge of orgasm. By God, she was perfect.

  When she was whimper
ing, he released her wrists and kissed his way down her body. Slowly. Savoring every inch. Her belly was softly rounded, her ribs nicely padded. Her pussy was bare, the dark outer labia sweetly plump. Her scent was rich and womanly, the taste appealing.

  It didn’t take much time at all to have her glistening clit engorged and poking out from the hood.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Oh, please… I want you inside me.” Her hands were on his head, and she was straining her hips upward despite the forearm he’d put across her pelvis.

  “All right, sweetheart.” In serious discomfort and need himself, he rose up on his knees and fitted himself to her slick entrance.

  Definitely tight. As her fingernails dug into his shoulders, he slowly worked his way into her wet sheath. Her eyes widened as he continued in by increments, trying to let her adjust as he went. Although the heat engulfing him was shaking his control, he didn’t let himself hurry. He’d take the time she needed.

  “There, pet. All in.”

  Her sigh was equal parts relief and pleasure.

  Slowly, he eased out and back in. Stretching out on top of her, he planted a forearm beside her head—and continued to monitor her responses. Her eyes were still worried, her mouth still slightly tight. Her palms were on his shoulders, not…quite…pushing him away.

  “Shhh, baby. It will be all right now.”

  In, out. In, out.

  When her hips started to lift to his, and her lips parted with pleasure, he smiled and increased his speed. Her arms slid around his neck. She was a joy to fuck—and he was looking forward to sandwiching her between him and Max and driving her past everything she’d ever known.

  He kept his movements slow until she started to tremble and clutch his shoulders. A fine sheen of sweat appeared on her skin. When her pussy tightened around him, he bent to kiss her—and changed his angle so his pelvis rubbed over her clit.

  As if plugged into an electric socket, her whole body tensed under him. “Omigod.” Her voice was low, throaty. Beautiful.

  Chuckling, he continued, plunging forcefully while nailing her clit with every stroke. Her core tightened around his cock. Lifting her trembling legs around his waist, he drove deeper.

  Her tiny breaths bathed the base of his neck—and stopped. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders even as her cunt fisted around him.

  As her neck arched, her lovely keening echoed in the room. Her core spasmed around him hard, over and over, and he groaned in pleasure.

  Abandoning his control, he thrust short and fast, feeling everything inside him draw up. With a low groan, he plunged in to the hilt and came so hard he could swear he heard the angels sing.

  When the choir finished and he’d recovered enough to locate a few working brain cells, he gathered her close and rolled with her in his arms. “Thank you, pet, for not allowing me to cancel tonight.”

  Her husky gurgle of a laugh made him grin. “You’re very welcome, Sir.” With a happy sigh, she snuggled against him, cheek against his chest, and one leg over his thighs. Soft and warm and loving.

  Breathing in her sultry, rich scent, Alastair ran his hand up and down her back, feeling the sweetness of the moment. He’d never found it difficult to find intelligent women to date—or to bed. But to find an intelligent, independent submissive who was also devastatingly compassionate and generous?

  The universe didn’t hand them out in large numbers.

  He kissed the top of her head and smiled. “Sleep, love. While you can.”

  Chapter Twelve

  IN THE SMALL coffee shop across from the karate studio, Uzuri listened as her friends did a catch-up of the past week. There were only seven of them this week: Jessica, Sally, Beth, Gabi, Andrea, Kim, and Uzuri.

  Kim was talking about a recent firefighter benefit dinner where she and her Master had run into Holt and his date. Raoul apparently hadn’t been impressed with the redhead, which was a concern.

  Uzuri frowned. Hopefully, Holt wasn’t serious about this one.

  When Kim finished up, Jessica asked, “Who’s next?”

  Stalling, Uzuri drank her coffee. Where would she even begin? So much had happened since she’d seen them two weeks ago.

  Like…she’d had sex with Alastair last Friday. Omigod, she’d never felt so overwhelmed in her entire life. He’d been so in control and careful and…

  Had she actually thought Max was the scary one?

  Alastair had hurt her—deliberately—and she still didn’t know exactly when the pain had turned into a hot, roiling pleasure. Everything he’d done had become more and more intense until her whole world had…blown apart. And afterward, when she was shaking in his arms, he’d held her and murmured to her in that deep accented voice.

  They’d gotten up eventually to eat the neglected dinner. Afterward, he’d taken her back to bed and held her all night long. She’d never slept so well. Ever.

  At dawn, she’d barely woken up when he had rolled her onto her belly and taken her hard and fast. Honestly, she’d always hated morning sex, but he’d found her clit with those magic fingers, and she’d been coming before she was even fully awake.

  “Very nice, sweetheart,” he’d said, patted her ass, grabbed a slow, tender kiss, and tucked the covers around her. He’d been gone before she could even offer him breakfast.

  He was amazing.

  She sighed and realized Sally was watching her, her brow puckered with concern. “Zuri?”

  Uzuri wasn’t ready to talk. She turned. “How are the wedding plans going, ’Drea?”

  Andrea closed her eyes and shook her head. “Dios, I need a few drinks before talking about it.”

  Gabi frowned. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Everything. The reception gets bigger and bigger because mi abuelita and tía keep inviting more people, and Cullen’s mama does the same, even though they’re flying here from Chicago. When my aunt called yesterday, I started crying.

  Uzuri gasped. Andrea wasn’t the sort to cry. She wasn’t.

  Jessica took her hand. “What can we do to help?”

  “Nada. Really.” Andrea gave a wry smile. “At this point, I don’t care what the reception looks like. I simply want it over. Cullen feels the same. It’ll be all right.”

  Maybe. But a reception wasn’t enough to make Andrea this unhappy. “Is something else wrong?”

  Gabi flicked her a look of agreement. “Tell us what’s bothering you, girlfriend.”

  Andrea’s golden eyes filled with tears. “It’s stupid.”

  Beth snorted. “My Master told me that”—she lowered her voice to imitate Master Nolan’s harsh voice—“ ‘feelings are feelings. They don’t have dumb or smart labels.’ ”

  “So true.” Gabi smiled. “Tell us, ’Drea.”

  “I miss Papa.” Andrea wiped away a tear. “You know how you dream about when you’ll get married? In my dream, my papa always walked me down the aisle, and he’d be all proud of me and everything.” She half-laughed. “That’s what’s silly. He’s been gone for years and years, and before he died, he was…drinking and got…mean. Still”—her breathing hitched—“I guess I feel l-lonely or something.”

  Uzuri was the first to jump up to hug and hold her, and the others immediately followed.

  Within the huddle of females, Andrea shed a few tears and then laughed. “Thank you.” She took a deep breath. “I didn’t realize what was bothering me so much. Maybe I can let it go now.”

  Maybe she could, but Uzuri couldn’t. Surely, there was a way she could help.

  As they resumed their chairs, Andrea frowned at Uzuri. “It’s your turn, now. Sure, you called us about your parking lot battle—Zuri versus car; car wins—but I can see there’s more. Don’t think we haven’t noticed.”

  On the spot. Woman up. “I want to tell you about…about…why I moved to Florida.” Uzuri took her own deep breath and stepped through the door she’d cracked open with Max. “It’s like this…”

  Master Z had been right. It was easier the second
time.

  As Uzuri shared, she stared at the tabletop to avoid seeing what would surely be reproach in her friends’ eyes. Halfway through, Sally took her hand on one side, Kim on the other. “…And then I managed to tell Max everything, and he told Master Z, and so all the Masters know, and I wanted you to know, too.”

  She stared at the maroon napkins, really a poor choice of hue in the coffee shop’s orange color scheme. “It’s not that I didn’t trust you—I do—but I didn’t want to ever think about the past. I’d left it behind.”

  “Uh-huh.” A snort from Jessica made her look up. “I thought it was something like that.”

  Beth nodded, “We knew you’d tell us someday. I’d thought you had an abusive husband or boyfriend. A stalker is a whole different ball of nastiness, but you’d already dumped his ass before he hit you. I’m proud of you.”

  Proud. “You’re not mad?” She looked around the table at her friends and saw sympathy on every face.

  “Why would we be mad? Although we’d like to have kicked his ass.” Looking like a Hispanic Wonder Woman, Andrea gave her a fierce look, then smiled. “No, chica. We’re friends whether we share all of our pasts or not.”

  “Speak for yourself. Me? I expect to get all the dirt.” Sally’s eyes narrowed. “No wonder you avoid big guys. Or retreat if a Dom comes on too strong.”

  “Or she pranks them.” Andrea grinned at Uzuri. “Cullen still talks about the doll you tied to his bar for a ‘bar ornament’.”

  In her soft Georgia drawl, Kim said, “That explains why you’re crazy fun at our all-women parties, but get quiet when there’re guys around.”

  “Actually, Jarvis can’t take all the blame for me being more comfortable with women than men.” Uzuri grimaced. “My mother is the one who sent me to a Catholic all-girls school.”

  Having been raised Catholic herself, Andrea burst out laughing.

  “Seriously? They still have all-girls schools around?” California-raised Beth stared. “But what does that have to do with your reaction to men?”

  “Girl, I didn’t even know about male anatomy until I got out of high school. First kiss? I was twenty. You probably flirted and dated from kindergarten on, right?”