She threw her arms around his shoulders, ready to mount him. Mercifully, the dominant took control. Joe removed his fingers from her sheath, then cupped her face, easing the madness.
“Hmmm, you’re so delicious,” he murmured, lowering the hem of her dress. “We both need to cool down.” He winked. “We got a little nuts there.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Want food?”
“I’m starving.” She panted softly.
“Okay. Brad is outside dealing with the mob. As soon as he returns, I’ll ask for menus. Although, I’ve tried pretty much everything in here, so I can suggest a couple of items.”
“Sure.”
“If you like soup, their potato leek is out of this world. And their burgers…”
As Joe enumerated his menu favorites, she squirmed with unspent sexual tension. She pressed her thighs together and subtly shifted back and forth against the seat. Maybe the pressure and movement would help her climax. Meanwhile, from some distant place, Joe’s voice droned. She shook her head in complete bewilderment. How could he act this way? Cool and casual as if nothing had happened between them? She was so needful, so ready to explode, she wanted to cry. Was that the difference between a sub and a dom?
Desperate to calm down, she grasped her whisky glass and downed half the liquid in one gulp.
“Wow. Easy.” Joe’s knuckles rubbed her cheek. Her tension subsided a little. “You’ve no idea what I was saying.” He laughed with ease. “Would you tell me where you were?”
“Goodness, in a place of my own creation.”
“Can you give me a little more information?”
Time to improvise. She held up the Glencairn glass. “It’s tied to this. My dad painted a beautiful image of Scotland in my mind. Although I’ve never seen it, I daydream of being there.”
He circled her wrist. “You’ll see it, kitten. I promise.” A stomping sound from the front door interrupted the conversation. A harried Brad, balancing two tall stacks of dirty pint glasses, rushed to the bar.
“Dude, need help?” Joe asked.
“Thanks, Joe. Looks worse than it really is.”
Hunter had to give Brad credit. He placed each stack in the sink without a single break. Even with all her experience, she might not be able to do the same.
“When you get a free moment, would you give us menus?” Joe asked.
“Be right there,” Brad answered.
Brad never came to their booth. Instead, a pretty young blonde, staring at Joe with adoring eyes, handed them the menus. “Hi. I’m Nancy. Would you like another beer?” She fluttered her eyelashes. Her much too sweet tone made Hunter’s teeth ache.
Joe, bless his heart, either didn’t notice or wasn’t interested. He spoke to Hunter instead. “How’s your Scotch?”
“Still good.” She held the glass up briefly. The remaining dark-gold liquid swirled a little. An aromatic wave wafted out.
He shook his head, reading the menu. “Thanks, no. My lady and I are good for now.”
Nancy’s face drooped with disappointment before she left.
As Hunter focused on her menu, a slow-moving shadow appeared in the periphery of her vision and came closer to them. At the same time, Joe stiffened, hard as a board. Displeasure radiated in waves from him. She peered above her menu but couldn’t discern a face or sex. Brad had wedged the front door open, and the light streaming from the street made it difficult to see.
“Well, fancy meeting you here.” A man spoke in a deep voice.
Mystery solved. In the next moment, his face and salt-and-pepper hair became clearer. He walked with a cane, explaining the slow stride.
Joe released a full breath and stood.
“Master Kurt,” Joe said.
Hunter frowned. The tension between the two men was solid; she could touch it, even hammer it. Her female intuition went to full alert and refused to come down. Something was off.
“Hunter Giordano.” Joe turned to her. “This is Master Sergeant Kurt Allendorf. We served in Afghanistan together.”
Okay, the master title made sense. Still… that niggling feeling remained.
“It’s very nice to meet you.” She extended her hand.
“The pleasure is mine, Hunter Giordano. He grasped her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Beautiful name, same as the owner.”
“Would you like to join us?” Joe asked, holding his palm out toward the empty side.
Noooo. Go away. They were having so much fun. The stranger’s presence wouldn’t allow any more passion play.
“I’ll stay for a moment. I’m waiting for Marcus. He should be here any minute. I’m early as usual.” Wedging his cane within the backrest seam, Kurt took his time slipping his lanky form onto the bench.
Hunter studied the handsome, gray-haired man. “Silver fox” came to mind. He seemed older than Joe, or perhaps the war had been much harder on him, as evidenced by the cane and his laborious pace.
Joe held up his fingers. Brad, still fussing with glasses, nodded.
“Want a beer, something else? I’m buying. I insist,” Joe said.
“No, I’m okay. Really. I’ll have a beer when Marcus arrives. I don’t want to interrupt you guys.” Kurt spoke to Joe, but his dark, steely demeanor fell on her with an intensity that was too familiar not to recognize. Kurt Allendorf was also a dominant. Her curiosity was piqued. Why would Joe call him master? Was it a military or a lifestyle pecking order thing?
Should she be impressed?
Nope.
But hold on, she could learn much by watching this unexpected encounter between two bulls.
“You’re not interrupting, Master Kurt. We haven’t even ordered our food yet,” Joe argued.
“In that case, I’ll have a small beer when Brad comes.” Kurt steepled his fingers, gaze glued to the Glencairn glass on the table. “Joe, I didn’t know you were a Scotch lover.”
“Ha!” Joe chuckled. “Another one bites the dust. It ain’t me. It’s my lovely companion, who has a taste for the more sophisticated spirits.”
“Goodness. She’s beautiful and a revelation.” Kurt leaned forward to study her more carefully. “Why, I can’t believe this. I’m actually jealous, Joe.”
“Don’t you even think about it,” Joe grated as his expression darkened.
She had a vision of a bull huffing and pawing the ground, horns lowered and ready to charge.
Kurt’s comfortable laughter disarmed the tension. “Would I do that to you, my friend? ’Sides, I’d be wasting my time, Hunter isn’t interested in me at all. Right, sweetheart?”
Hunter didn’t move a muscle for fear of revealing a single emotion. But her effort didn’t work. A knowing smile curved Kurt’s lips. He’d read her nonetheless.
“She’s into you, Joe.” Kurt nodded. “Oh, yeah…she’s all in.”
“Hmmm,” Joe grumbled.
“Ah, and so are you.” Kurt slapped the table, roaring with laughter. “Karma’s got a wicked sense of humor.”
Feeling left out, she sought refuge in her Scotch. She sipped as her gaze darted from man to man from under lowered eyelids. Kurt’s last comment was packed with hidden meaning—a previous conversation…about her? Oh yeah, she wasn’t born yesterday, and she could detect the flimsiest of clues. And how was karma involved? Unfortunately, Joe’s expression was closed off. She’d find no hints there. And Kurt’s enigmatic face offered even less information.
Patience. Truth can’t be suppressed for long.
Hunter’s entire body quivered with anticipation and excitement. Thin rivulets of perspiration ran down her forearms, swirled around the pit of her elbows and fell in heavy droplets on the floor. Her skin was burning. The long strands of hair plastered to her neck didn’t improve her situation. She was covered in sweat, everywhere. A tiny liquid pool had gathered in her navel.
Who knew the diabolical contraption Joe liked so much could change into so many bizarre positions and angles or that a human body could adapt to fit all? The frame was the lau
nching pad for his entertainment, as it had all sorts of attachments, chains, and hooks.
She wasn’t uncomfortable, and still she felt twisted like a pretzel. He’d cuffed her wrists at a height that wouldn’t cut off her circulation. The padded bed-like bench had several moving parts, and Joe had raised the top piece to use as a headrest for her. From this position, she could see everything he did, unless he blindfolded her—which he hadn’t so far. Then he’d lifted the bottom segment, curving her hips and ass up. Next, he secured the edges, ensuring her butt support would remain in place. The final touch came when he cuffed her ankles and hooked them up to each end of the frame. In essence, her legs formed a wide V.
Once she was restrained, he sat at the edge with a spray bottle full of a yellow liquid that looked like oil, a small paintbrush, a magic wand vibrator, and a thin riding crop. During long, seemingly unending minutes, he proceeded to tease, brush, and vibrate her clit to the edge of climax and back down without mercy.
She huffed and breathed with desperation. Her mouth dried, and her throat ached. She clasped the chains above the cuffs, pulled them down—a useless effort—when she’d been right at her release, but he’d denied her again, and again.
“I thought this was supposed to be a room of beauty and tranquility,” she grated through her teeth. “Sir.”
The benign expression on his face riled her to the max. Had her feet been free, she would have kicked him.
“But it is, kitten. Look around. Nothing’s changed. The agitation is within you. You’re allowing your body’s impulses to rule you. Breathe into the climax wave. Allow it to pass over you.”
And with that bit of advice, he tickled the tip of her clit with the brush.
“You’re an evil man,” she hissed.
His riding crop flew across her butt cheeks twice. The stinging sensation felt odd. Her skin hurt, but from somewhere inside, a wave of pleasure floated up and out, overtaking the superficial pain. She squirmed as much as her fastenings would allow.
“Protocol,” he snapped.
“Sir, please.” She panted now. “I need, I want—”
“I know what you need and want.” He stood to check her wrists. “When the time comes, you’ll hit the moon with pleasure. Not yet. Move your fingers, kitten. Where are you?”
“I’m sweet, Sir. Sweet.”
“Good.” He stepped down from the platform, opened the armoire, and returned with two cloths. “Hmm, you’re sopping wet.” He patted her face, arms, and belly, then, grasping her hair, he twisted the full mass away from her neck. She cooled right away.
“It’s a little warm in here, but nothing we can’t handle, and it’s better for your muscles.” He removed his T-shirt and eye patch. This was Joe Reid in the raw, exposing all his scars to her. Stunned, Hunter exhaled. They’d taken a step toward complete intimacy. A potent, indescribable emotion filled her chest.
He wiped his glistening torso and arms dry with the other cloth. The loose waistband of his jeans slipped down a little. The head of his large cock pushed against the zipper. Her sheath convulsed, aching to be filled. He was the sexiest man she’d ever seen in her life.
“How are your feet? Can you wiggle your toes? Feel any numbness?”
“No, Sir.” She moved her toes. “I’m all good, except—”
“Stop. You’re going to ask, and that’ll get you in trouble. In fact…” He pulled a cotton sash out of the bench drawer. He twisted it into a band and gagged her before she could protest.
“This is softer than a ball. Trust me.” He smiled. “You can still say your safeword. A little garbled, but I can understand what it is.”
He sat in his previous position and resumed his devilish edging as if nothing important was going on or as if she wasn’t losing her mind. The brush was the worst. Soft and oily smooth, ticklish and sensuous against her tissues, it had caused her to roll her eyes, balancing on the brink of pleasure. Instinctively, she attempted to open her mouth to gasp, the gag didn’t allow it. She had to adapt and breathe through her nose.
He was all business, focused on brushing her clit. Adding to her torture, he squeezed the folds surrounding her nub, and the little hood stood out. He exchanged the brush for the magic wand, pressed down, and a wail escaped her throat.
Joe leaned close to her eyes. “Not yet.”
Hunter managed a shallow breath. Fuck his nonsense about deep breaths; soon, her body would take over her last bit of control.
Closing her eyes, she began a silent mantra: hold on, hold on, hold on…
He removed the magic wand, and a sharp pinch on her nipples ended all thought. She glanced at her breasts. In the dim amber light, the citrines squeezing her nipples twinkled at her. He moved his palm down, caressing her damp skin on his way to her engorged clit. He settled the open clamp around it, and, watching her closely, he let it go.
She winced.
“Tell me.”
Hunter exhaled. This was tighter than the last time, more painful, and, to her utter bewilderment, more stimulating. She only had to say the word and he’d loosen it. A stubborn streak rose in her. She could do this. As she grew accustomed to the pain, her arousal escalated. The peaceful floating place opened its door, inviting her in. In the midst of the trance, she remembered, he waits for an answer. She fought with the gag, her tongue struggled, and a trickle of saliva dribbled to her jaw.
“S-sweet, Sir.”
Joe frowned; an intense expression she hadn’t seen yet crossed his face. Moving quickly, he yanked the gag loose. He released the ankle cuffs, and her legs lowered of their own accord, but he kept the butt support lifted so her hips and ass remained angled up. Still silent, he removed his jeans and shorts and kicked out of his way. Holding on to her hips, he thrust his cock inside her core as far as he could go.
“Wrap your legs around my waist. Give it all to me.”
He pumped into her with a ferocity that bordered on yesterday’s wildness. She only wished her hands were free so she could rake her fingernails along his back, making him scream with pleasure and pain, reciprocating bite for bite and blow for blow. So she did what she could. Squeezing her thighs around his body, she tilted her pelvis up, seeking the pressure of his flesh against her clamped clit.
Releasing her hips, he curved forward and cupped both breasts. He plumped them together as his hungry mouth descended on her nipples.
“Fuck. I can’t get enough of you,” he groaned, now moving to her mouth. He probed, searching for her tongue. Once he found it, he drew it deep into his, sucking side to side. He released her tongue and one breast, reached down, and yanked her clit clamp. She jerked and bucked.
“Do you want me to fuck you? Tell me.”
“Yes, Sir. Take me.”
He drove slow and deep. When he changed the angle of his hips, his balls slapped her ass with his pumps. His fingers were all over her; he wiggled the clit clamp with his thumb as he reached up to her face with his free hand.
“Uh, give me you mouth.” He grunted. His clear blue eye bore into her as his hot breath washed her face and his fingers parted her lips. “Mine.” In a relentless invasion of body, mind, and heart, he tugged her jaw down, holding her mouth open. The gesture was pure seductive domination. She surrendered to his mastery, and that threw her over the edge. Her vagina contracted and released, embracing his cock, returning the same excitement he’d aroused in her. She needed the joint orgasm, the supreme climax.
“Yes, squeeze my cock with your pussy. Hold me. That’s it.”
Settling deep inside her, Joe stopped driving as her sheath spasmed around his thick cock. He smiled as her orgasm rolled on, her muscles vibrated, and her clit twitched wildly.
But he wasn’t done with her yet. Just as her heartbeat began to slow, he renewed his assault into her, and she lost any sanity she had left. Her Dom took over, she was taken into his domain, and her emotions exploded. He demanded, and she offered herself to him in ways she never thought were possible. Here was her huge awakening
. She was all his, and with the giving, her scars faded and healing began. He guided her, and she followed desperately, arching and bucking against his hard, sweaty body. Closer, closer… Hold him, tighter. Go into him… Press him deeper. She needed… She needed to be one with him, no distance, no separation, and he answered her call. He moved inside her as if he could hear her thoughts, and she exhaled with pure delight. He pushed her rising want. She reached the top, and he extracted yet another orgasmic wave out of her.
“Delicious,” he groaned. Dropping his forehead between her breasts he allowed his climax to explode.
Except for the raspy sounds of their breaths, minutes passed in silence. After his last spasm subsided, he caressed the sides of her torso and hips. He kissed her belly and raised his head. “Are you okay?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she answered in her dreamy postorgasmic state.
Hunter hated the cold emptiness when Joe’s cock slipped out of her body. She almost asked him to stay on top of her, warming her a little longer, then decided to maintain the sub mode. She remained in passive silence as he stepped into his shorts and moved quickly to open the leather wrist cuffs and lower the bench to its original flat position.
He scooped her into his arms, strode to a comfortable-looking leather sofa next to the armoire, and sat down, settling her on his lap. He picked up a folded blanket draped over the arm of his leather sofa and wrapped it gently around her body.
Holding her close, he kissed her head. She curled up against his chest, enjoying the sensation of Joe’s protective arms enfolding her.
“Feeling okay? Are you achy? Hurt anywhere?” he murmured.
“I’m fine, Sir.”
“Thirsty? You must be.” He reached toward the side table. She hadn’t noticed the line of water bottles on top. He opened one for her.
“This is so nice.” She wiggled within his arms. “I feel cared for, pampered, important.”
“You are important to me.” He rubbed his jaw on her hair as his hand caressed her shoulder. “Aftercare is necessary. You released a lot of energy during our play. This intimacy helps you recover, come back down. We can also discuss any questions you may have, if anything felt wrong. There’s a difference between discomfort and pain targeted for sexual pleasure versus abusive pain or discomfort.”
Deception Page 23