by Roni Loren
My throat tightened at the thought. I hadn’t seen much of what lay outside these doors. Andre had introduced me to his friend, Master Colby, and had set up the plan, but then Colby had led me straight here through a bunch of hallways. Now that I’d raced here to try this with Foster, my nerves at the unknown were catching up. Here, between four walls, just me and Foster was comfortable. But I knew there was a whole other world outside—a world I knew nothing about, really. “What exactly do you have planned?”
Foster’s brows lowered as his hand closed around mine. “First lesson. When we’re here or in this mode at home, you don’t get to question every move I make. You have to learn to trust me. If something truly frightens you or goes to a place you don’t want, you use your safe word. But other than that, I’m in charge. Do you understand?”
I bit my lip at his gentle admonishment. “Yes . . . sir. Wait, am I supposed to call you master?”
Somehow the word didn’t sound right in my mouth. It made it seem like a game, and that’s not what this felt like.
He considered me a moment, his blue eyes evaluating. “Everyone here calls me Master Ian.”
“Oh, right,” I said, looking down at our linked hands. “The other women here.”
The last part was out before I realized I’d spoken the thought. And I hated that it came out sounding so petulant. Grow up, Cela.
He sighed. “No, not just the women. It’s how doms are addressed here. But I also can’t stand here and say that I’ve never been with other submissives here.”
My stomach felt like it was made of knotted rubber bands, snapping and popping. “I know.”
“Look at me,” he said. Reluctantly, I did. “While we’re together, you have my absolute word that I won’t touch another woman. And I expect the same faithfulness from you. But I can’t pretend that I don’t have a past. I’m not a kid, Cela.”
“Right,” I said, irritation welling in me. “Like me, you mean.”
Displeasure shadowed his features. “Don’t put words in my mouth. All I’m saying is getting jealous over people I was with before I knew you is a waste of energy. If they were that spectacular, I’d be with them now, right?”
Logically, I knew that. But it didn’t stop the ugly emotion from brewing in me like some poison. I tried to tamp it down. “So why Ian and not Foster?”
“Because it gives me some sense of privacy. No one in my everyday life calls me Ian. But I don’t want you calling me what other submissives have. You are going to be part of my life outside of here. So call me what you’ve always called me. Foster.”
Something relaxed in me at that. I was different than those other women. I needed to hear that, needed to believe it. “So no ‘master’?”
He smirked. “You hate that idea, don’t you?”
I tried to fight my smile—to no avail. “Honestly, I think I’d have trouble keeping a straight face. It makes me think of a hunchbacked Igor. Yessss, Masssster.”
He shook his head, but I could tell he was amused. “Well, we can’t have that. Though after you’re exposed to the lifestyle for a while, it may begin to take on a different connotation for you. But like I said, call me by name. And if sir feels natural to you, use it. If it doesn’t, then don’t. I’m not that concerned about semantics.”
Sir did come surprisingly easy to me, even that first night. I blew out a breath. “Thank you.”
His eyebrow lifted. “You seem surprised.”
I pushed an escaped lock of hair behind my ear. “I guess I’m not sure what to expect yet, how much say I have in . . . this kind of thing.”
“Which is exactly why you need to come with me,” he said, opening the door. “If we’re going to do this. Let’s get those eyes wide open.”
Oh, boy.
Chapter 23
After a long morning at The Ranch, Foster and I were standing inside my doorway. He handed me the thick binder he’d gotten from Colby. Foster had made me sit in on a new members class but had warned me that the introductory session had only scratched the surface. My mind was still whirling with all the information on pre-scene negotiations, contracts, and hard limits—all mixing in with my epic lack of sleep last night, it made for a foggy brain. I hugged the binder to my chest.
Foster crossed his arms and looked down at me, the professor to the student. “Here’s what you’re going to do. I have some things to take care of tomorrow, and Monday I’m out of town. If I’d realized this was going to happen, I wouldn’t have scheduled all of that, but now it’s too late to get out of it. So you have the next two days to study the binder and call me or email me with any questions that come up. Anything you’re not sure about, ask. When we get together next time, I want you to have a working knowledge of the basics.”
My jaw went slack. “You want me to learn all of this in two days?”
He smirked. “Cela, all you’ve done these last few years is study and cram; you’re a pro. And, of course, you won’t learn everything in two days. This will give you a foundation. We’ll work on the rest together through direct instruction. That’s the fun part.”
I wet my lips, the image of exactly how he would instruct me making warmth stir low and fast. “Yes, sir.”
“What’s your schedule like this week?”
“I’m off. I was supposed to be going home, so they’d scheduled someone else in my place. And I can’t tell Dr. Pelham that I’m accepting the new position until next week. She’s on a cruise.”
He reached out and shut my front door, not allowing the empty hallway to eavesdrop on us. “Perfect. That will give you time to focus on this. And until I see you again on Tuesday, you aren’t allowed to get off—by any means.”
My cheeks went hot. “I think I can restrain myself for two days.”
“That confident, huh?” His lips curled as he slowly backed me up against the wall, the binder trapped between us. “Reading about all those illicit things, imagining me doing them to you, is going to get you hot, angel.” His hand slid down my hip and cupped my ass, pulling me tight against his erection. “You’re going to get flushed like you are right now. And wet. And suddenly it’s going to be very tempting to relieve all that tension.”
I swallowed hard, the words making everything go needy and desperate inside me. Even after our night and morning at The Ranch, I couldn’t seem to get enough of his touch. He was creating some sort of weird, addictive response in me. I thought of all those animal experiments I’d had to learn about in school—mice hitting levers for pellets. Maybe he was right. At the moment, I was ready to smack that lever again and was finding it hard to imagine not having an orgasm in the next five minutes, much less the next few days. “I’ll manage.”
He kissed the spot behind my ear, sending goose bumps down my shoulder and along my back. “Is that right? Well, I was going to give you a little something to get you through the next few days. But if you can manage . . .”
He tried to step back, and I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt. The binder thumped on the floor between us. “Wait, please.”
His low laugh sent a ripple of anticipation through me. “Stay against the wall and take off your panties. Now.”
Guh. I shivered. What was that? Why did my body go tingly and hot the minute he got bossy? Even after finding out about this whole submission thing, I still couldn’t wrap my head around the thought that I really fit that label. But I wasn’t going to question my responses right now. Not when he was looking at me like that. I pressed my back against the wall and let him go this time when he extracted himself from my grip. I quickly slid my underwear off and tossed them to the side, ready for whatever he was about to do as long as it meant him relieving this throbbing need inside me.
He walked over to the black bag he’d carried back with him from The Ranch and dug through an outside pocket. His back was to me and blocked the view of whatever he was getting. But when he turned
around, he had some kind of dark purple silicone toy in his hand. My gaze darted from it to him then back to the toy. My knees went a little weak.
He stepped in front of me and shoved my skirt up to my hips, exposing everything. Cool air kissed my damp skin. “Spread your legs.”
“Yes, sir.” Pressing my palms to the wall behind me, I followed his instructions, my high heels wobbling a bit beneath me as I widened my stance.
He braced a hand next to my head against the wall and leaned into my space, his breath hot against my cheek. Then he was rubbing the cool silicone against my cleft. A little moan escaped. I was so wound up already, even such gentle stroking had my body tightening. “You’re so very wet, angel. The challenge for you is going to be to keep this in place. Because this is the only way you’ll get what you want.”
Before I could respond, the tip of the toy was pushing inside me, stretching me and sliding deep. I closed my eyes to breathe through the sensation, but then Foster settled the other curved part of the device against my clit and turned it on. Everything began to hum. “Oh, God.”
He sucked on the lobe of my ear before whispering. “Don’t you dare come before I do or there will be consequences. Now, on your knees, Cela.”
My eyelids snapped open, but his gaze was dead serious. He guided my legs back together to make sure I held on to the vibrator, then he was pressing down on my shoulder to push me to my knees. I landed on the little flowered rug I had bought at a thrift store. Never had I imagined it’d be used for this purpose. But where I’d gotten my decor soon fled from my mind as Foster’s belt buckle filled my vision. His erection was outlined by the leather, and I’m not sure I’d ever seen a more erotic sight. I wanted to lick him through it.
“I expect you know what to do, Cela,” Foster said, his gaze heavy on me.
The vibrator was making my thoughts knock into each other, but as if my body caught up before my mind did, I lifted my hands and unfastened his buckle and pants. There was nothing beneath but skin—flat belly, a smattering of hair, and unrepentant arousal. God, he was beautiful. Every part of him so potent and masculine. My inner muscles clenched around the toy, and I had to take a long breath to pull myself back from the edge.
“Good girl,” Foster said, sliding his fingers into my hair and taking his cock in his other hand to stroke it. “You’ll learn to channel your focus. Your pleasure will be dependent on mine, and your own release will not be your end goal—pleasing me will be. That will be where you’ll find your satisfaction.”
In the light of day, that statement might’ve sounded ludicrous, sexist, and misogynistic. But in that moment, as he slid his cock into my mouth, his taste gliding over my tongue and my body riding the vibrator, I wanted nothing more than to do exactly that—please the ever-loving shit out of him.
I relaxed my throat and moved forward, bringing him as far back as I could, then swirled my tongue around him as I pulled backward again. I laved around the head. He groaned with appreciation, and I felt it all the way to my bone marrow. “You’re better at this than you realize.”
I smiled inwardly. The A-plus, perfectionistic student in me had actually researched technique on the Internet the other night, but no amount of torture would make me admit that information out loud. So instead I went to work on demonstrating what I’d learned and driving him into oblivion. Nothing was hotter than hearing the gruff sounds he made, tasting him on my tongue, and inhaling his scent—clean sweat and leather and something uniquely his. Falling into that moment almost took my mind away from the relentless, coaxing stimulation between my thighs—the climbing urge to come.
“That’s right, angel,” Foster said, his voice going a little hoarse as he begin to rock into me faster. “Show me how bad you want me to fuck that pretty mouth of yours. You have no idea how hard it’s been not to take you like this at The Ranch this afternoon—to show everyone what a sexy little sub I have, to stake my claim of you in public.”
I moaned around his cock, the hot images and his rough tone nearly pushing me over the cliff. My nails dug into his thighs as I held onto the last threads of my self-control.
“Ah, you like that idea,” he said, his grip on my hair tightening. “My sweet, innocent girl, I can’t wait to uncover all those secret sides of you.”
I whimpered, the coil of pressure building in me too much to hold back. I lifted my eyes to his, pleading.
His gaze branded me with its intensity. “Not yet, Cela. I’m not fucking done with you.”
I breathed deeply through my nose, fighting the need, and focused on him. I didn’t want to come before him. I didn’t want to leave him unsatisfied. I needed to feel him lose his own control. That alone helped me push back the oncoming tide. I pulled away for a moment and dipped lower, gliding my tongue along his sac and taking one of the globes in my mouth to suck gently.
“Fuck . . .” Foster’s groan rattled through him, and he pressed the back of my head against the wall, securing me in place. “Open.”
I did and he was back pushing between my lips with a ferocity that had my will obliterating. I couldn’t move my head. All I could do was take him and work my tongue around him as he ruthlessly ravaged my mouth. Everything began to blur, my body revving. Then his cock jerked against my tongue and lovely, hot fluid hit the back of my throat, Foster’s loud groan sending off trails of sparkling desire inside me.
And that was the final switch. My body clenched hard around the vibrator and I tilted my hips forward, riding the soft, humming nub pressed against my clit until everything burst open inside me. A muffled cry ripped past my throat as Foster continued to pump inside me.
I bucked against the force of my own orgasm, the power rocking me, and held on to him like he was the life raft keeping me from drowning. He pulled out of my mouth and grabbed my wrists, then slid to his knees in front of me. I pitched forward automatically and pressed my face into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around my convulsing body, holding on to me.
“I can’t—please, take it out,” I panted, the intensity of sensation getting past the sanity point, but he held on tight, not allowing me to remove the vibrator.
“Shh, angel. You can. Come for me, again. You’re not done.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, water leaking from the corners. “Foster, please.”
But even as the begging word passed my lips, my body charged up another hill, and this time the orgasm was so intense, so breath stealing, that only silence emerged when I opened my mouth to cry out. I swayed in his arms as he whispered sexy, coaxing things against my ear.
Finally, when every ounce of strength seemed to exit my system, Foster gently slid the toy from me. Not even caring where I was, I moved my legs from under me and lay down on the floor, my head against his thigh and my body curled up on the rug in the fetal position. My blouse clung to my sweat-slicked skin. I was done. Not sleeping for much of last night, all the emotional upheaval of the previous day, and two orgasms had pushed me past any sense of decency.
Foster combed my hair with his fingers, caressing my scalp with long, luxurious strokes. A soft sigh escaped me. Somehow, lying there on the floor half-naked, my knees rug burned, and my jaw aching from the rough use, I’d never felt more comfortable or cherished. I could’ve slept there and been happy about it.
Foster traced my eyebrow with his finger. “You want me to run you a bath, or do you want to worry about that after you get some rest?”
“Rest,” I murmured.
“Good choice.” He extricated himself from under me and then turned me to lift me into his arms.
I didn’t fight it. If he wanted to lift me, so be it. He carried me into my bedroom and laid me on my unmade bed. I reached for my blouse, but he gently pushed my hands away.
“Let me.” He unbuttoned my blouse and took off my bra, brushing soft fingers against my still-beaded nipples. Then, he guided me down to my pillows and pulled the
sheet and blanket over me.
“Are you staying?” I asked sleepily.
He rubbed a thumb over my cheekbone. “No, angel. I can’t. But come Tuesday, we’ll be spending a lot of time together. Take the next few days to enjoy the solitude . . . and the freedom.”
“If this is what captivity feels like, I think I’m becoming a fan.”
He chuckled softly, a warm, masculine sound that made me want to crawl back into his lap. “We’ll see what you think when you’re not high on post-orgasm, subspace bliss.”
“Mmm,” I murmured, fighting to keep my lids open.
He kissed my forehead. “Get some rest, angel.”
Then he was gone.
And so was I.
Chapter 24
“Marcela, this better be a joke,” my father warned. “If it is, it’s a particularly unfunny one.”
The acid in my stomach churned, and I shot Bailey an I’m dying here look. She gave me a weak double thumbs-up for me to keep at it. “Papá, the clinic needs me right now. It would be bad to leave them in a lurch.”
Lie. Lie. Lie. But somehow, even though I’d had the best of intentions when I dialed his number, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth yet.
“I know of another clinic in a lurch,” my father said through what sounded like clenched teeth. “Mine. Tu familia.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, and Bailey poured me a second glass of wine in sympathy. “I know. But you’ve managed this long without me, surely—”
“How long do they need you for?” he asked, his tone clipped.
Indefinitely. “Uh, I’m not sure. They’re looking for a replacement. A couple more weeks?”
He muttered a slew of something I couldn’t understand. “You’ve put me in a bad spot, Marcela. The house is ready and sitting there, and I’ve been setting things up at the clinic, too. You better be here for your birthday. Your mamá has been planning a big family dinner, and I will not see her disappointed. Comprendes?”