To Command and Collar

by Cherise Sinclair

  He hadn’t given up at all. Oh God. Her eyes widened as he moved the wine and the remotes to one side, then lifted her and stood her in the middle of the walnut coffee table. “Master!”

  “Yes, sumisa?” He sat in front of her, almost on her toes. “Open for me.” He mercilessly pushed her legs apart until her feet were at the edges of the square table. He moved closer, his face right…oh God, right at her groin level. After pulling one of the remotes closer, he turned the bullet vibrator on. The buzz hit inside her, and she moaned.

  “Master R, I don’t think—” She bit her lip, feeling like an idiot, feeling the thing buzzing inside her. “I can’t. This isn’t going to work.”

  He laughed, actually laughed. “Then I’ll simply enjoy myself with my little sumisa’s body.” His thumbs parted her labia as his fingers curled around her hips, anchoring his hands…and her as well. The feeling of his thumbs pulling her open sent heat spiraling through her again.

  “If you start to lose your balance, you may put your hands on my shoulders as you did before.” He looked up at her, his lips curving, “I thought of asking for a number, but I can see fear isn’t what’s on your mind at this moment. “

  Fear? Embarrassment, maybe, but this was so far from what any of the slavers had done it held no comparison. It was Master R touching her.

  As he leaned forward and blew a stream of warm air onto her exposed clit, the sensation shot across the nerve endings, making her toes curl. Before she got used to that, his mouth closed loosely over her.

  “Oh, God.” Hot, oh so very hot. His lips pressed and released, creating a circle of heat and pressure around the nub—so, so soft yet tightening more with each repetition until her clit was trapped. A flicker of his tongue over the top weakened her knees, and she grabbed his shoulders, bending over slightly to keep from falling.

  “That’s right, cariño, hang on tight.” His breath teased her pussy, and then his tongue slid up and down one side of her clit, flickering over the very top, before moving to the other side. Blood swelled her tissues until they felt too tight. Bursting tight.

  A whine escaped her, and his only response was to let go one hand and turn up the vibrator.

  “No…” It shook her from deep inside. He put his hand back, fingers curving around her hip, thumb opening her labia even more firmly. As if trying to match the vibrator, his tongue rubbed at the edge of her clit, moving the looser hood back and forth, no longer teasing but demanding a response.

  The pressure grew inside her, her climax approaching as inexorably as a rising tide. Her toes tingled, and the muscles of her thighs trembled until she wondered if she’d fall. She couldn’t seem to care. Everything in her tuned to the movements of his tongue as it rubbed one side of the bundle of nerves, then the other. His lips closed around her, trapping her clit in heat, tightening.

  Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, her hips giving little jerks, needing…more. She wanted to pull him closer, needed to, but he held her ruthlessly, doing exactly as he wanted.

  Slowly his lips tightened, pinching the nub. He sucked lightly, and his tongue butterflywinged over the very top, and everything in her tightened, tightened. The roaring of surf sounded in her ears.

  He sucked—oh, God—sucked strongly, and sensation gripped her spine like a fist until it exploded; everything spasmed in massive waves around the humming thing at her center, shaking her in an earthquake of sensation.

  His thumbs released her, and his hands curved under her ass, holding her up—holding her against his mouth as he flicked her gently again, making it last. Her legs gave out entirely, and his rumbling laugh against her clit made her come again. Without any effort at all, he lifted her. “Put your legs around me,” he said in a firm voice. She was shaking too hard to fight him.

  She’d had orgasms. She’d been afraid that part of her life was over. But he’d done what she asked and gone further even. Aroused her—pleasured her.

  His eyes had darkened to almost black; satisfaction filled his smile. “You taste very nice, cariño. Since we’ve crossed over this bridge, and several days remain where you are still under my command, I will enjoy having my mouth on you often.”

  A shudder of anticipation ran through her, and his firm lips curved up.

  As he set her on the sofa, pushing her back, she realized the vibrator inside her was off. He pushed her legs apart. She was so wet, his fingers slid inside easily, despite the way she clenched around him. He removed the bullet and laid it on the end table. Then he sat beside her, pulled her against his side, and kissed the top of her head. “You did very well, sumisita mía. I’m proud of you.”

  The joy of pleasing him mingled with her own satisfaction.

  “Do you want to continue?” He moved to see her face, his eyes intent, waiting for her answer…and expecting an honest one.

  Continue. That meant he would… Her mouth went dry. “No. Yes. I don’t know.”

  “Do you trust me, Kimberly?” he asked softly.

  She’d never trusted a man the way she trusted him. When had that happened? “Yes, Sir.” She tilted her head up, reached to touch his stern jaw, feeling the slight scrape of his five o’clock shadow. “I do.”

  “Let’s see how far we can go.”

  Oh God. No. Her breathing sped up, and then he asked, “What’s your safe word?”

  Safe word. He’d stop if she panicked. She swallowed and said firmly, “Cramp.”

  “Very good.” He stood and started to unbuckle his belt.

  Fear turned her cold as memories drowned her: men surrounding her, undoing their pants, pulling out… Her feet drew up, and she scrambled into a corner of the couch.

  His hands stilled, and he watched her. So silent. After a long minute, he held his arms away from his sides. “I would like your pretty hands to unclothe me, gatita.”

  Me?

  Not moving, he waited, his gaze never leaving her face. Patient. After a minute, he prompted, “It will be my pleasure, Master. Is this not what you say?”

  He can hardly do anything with clothes on, she told herself, the sweet sense of satiation gone completely. I wanted to do this. I can. She swallowed and whispered, “It will be my pleasure, Master.” So, so not true.

  It felt as if it took her an hour to stand up, naked in front of him. Another hour before she touched him. She’d seen him before, she told herself. They showered together, after all.

  His lips curved when her hand reached his belt. “You smell like flowers, cariño. I like the shampoo you brought with you. What do I smell like?”

  She blinked, diverted from the icy terror surging up and down her spine. The end of his belt slipped loose. She unzipped his pants. “Um. Clean. Not flowery, more like a—the ocean. Not sweet.”

  His hand cupped her cheek; his thumb touched her lips lightly, a gentle kiss of skin. “And I am not sweet, mi pequeña sumisa.” His eyes caught hers, dark and intent. Determined.

  A shiver of fear—of heat—went through her at the thought of him inside her. His cock sprang free, and she realized he’d gone commando. This was it. She felt like a statue, frozen in stone.

  “You have a choice, sumisa,” he said gently. “We have both been tested, and your birth control is still active. Do you wish a condom or not?”

  No longer a question of if they’d have sex, but just what way. It felt as if she was being pulled into a whirlpool. “Um.” Memories spinned into the circle with her…the plastic, slick horrible feel of the…others. They’d worn condoms. Their…they hadn’t felt real, just evil. “No. No condom.”

  He looked surprised but simply took hold of her and moved her so he could sit in the center of the couch. “Kneel on the sofa. Straddle me, Kimberly,” he said, his voice so very gentle.

  Her hands had gone numb; her lips tingled like she’d been sucking on ice. She put a knee on each side of his thighs, trying to not see the thick erection raised between them, the piercing glinting in the light. He gripped her behind her thighs and pulled her for
ward until her pelvis pressed against his erection. “Look at me, little one,” he said softly. “Who am I? My title, my name.”

  Her mind blanked, until his intent gaze captured hers again. “Master R.”

  “Bueno. Whose cock are you rubbing against?” A smile curved his lips. “Whose cock have you washed in the shower every morning?”

  She had. She’d touched him, washed him. The words came easier under his dark brown gaze. “Master R’s.”

  “Good. Kimberly, are you afraid of Master R?”

  “Sometimes.”

  His laugh rang out, the darkly male one she loved that meant she’d surprised him— delighted him. His grin flashed at her. “There’s an answer to warm a dom’s heart.” With his eyes still dancing with laughter, he nodded at her. “Time’s up. Lower yourself on me, chiquita. You may go as slow as you want…as long as you don’t stop.”

  His hands were still curled around her thighs, not moving except for his thumbs stroking her skin gently. She was shaking uncontrollably, but his laughter had freed her mind. He’d put her on top. Pulled her into position, because he’d known she wouldn’t be able to force herself. But now, he’d let her set her own pace. Her fears of being held down, tearing, ripping—she shuddered.

  “Eyes on me, Kimberly.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered. She reached down, between their bodies, and gripped his shaft, touched the piercing, and frowned. “Why couldn’t you be little or without this…thing?”

  His laugh burst out again, heartening her enough that she raised up and set him at her entrance. She was very slick, still sensitive from his mouth and lips, and a quiver ran through her…not of fear.

  “As slow as you want—”

  As long as I don’t stop. She let herself down, feeling the stretch. His piercing caught for a second. Then he was in. The metal pressed on her as it passed in, the sensation strange, and the rest of him followed, hot, velvet covered, sliding into her, increment by increment. The stretch, the feeling was—she froze, skin going cold.

  He cleared his throat, breaking into her thoughts, and she nodded. Master R. She lowered farther. “You’re so damn big,” she whispered.

  “Why, thank you, cariño,” he said. He moved his hands then, massaging her bottom in a way that sent a quiver through her as it added to the sensations. She took more of him in.

  Her mouth was even with his, and his hand curved over her nape, pulling her closer for a kiss. A real kiss, and he pushed his tongue inside as aggressive with his mouth as he wasn’t with his cock.

  Her head swirled, trying to take in everything: his hands on her bottom, his shaft in her, his mouth on hers. She lost focus and dropped down faster. Her cry of surprise let him deeper into her mouth, and he possessed it totally, then lifted his hips, filling her completely with his cock.

  No! Tearing her mouth from his, she pulled up instinctively until she was almost off his shaft.

  He gave her a half-lidded, lazy look. “That’s very nice. You may continue doing that.”

  “You…” Evil monster. She held there, trembling. But it was impossible to hold her anger—or even her fear—when seeing the satisfaction in his face, the humor in his eyes. She gripped his shoulders and lowered herself down again. God, he was so big.

  And she was very slick. Up and down, emptiness to overwhelmingly full, and about the third or fourth time, he felt…good. She went a little faster.

  He hummed his approval and moved his hands between them to fondle her breasts and tease her nipples. A slow pinch sent a shock of heat to her pussy, and she clenched around him.

  “Very nice. Do that—squeeze me—as you’re lifting,” he instructed. His resonant voice had slowed into a winding warm river of sound, smoothing the last jagged crests of fear.

  She tightened herself around him and rose. Lowered slowly. God, she could feel the metal. The piercing slid over an area that made her shiver. Like it was rubbing at her clit from inside her.

  “Again.”

  No pain, and the unexpected sensation of pleasure kept increasing.

  “Slow up, faster coming down,” he murmured. He leaned his head against the couch back, his gaze wandering over her eyes, her mouth, her body, the intent look at odds with his obvious enjoyment. He didn’t want to lose control enough to stop caring for her well-being.

  But he liked what she was doing. The realization thrilled through her. She had something to offer—something to give. And she wanted to. She lifted, then dropped onto him hard, the sudden penetration making her vagina spasm around him.

  His pupils dilated, turning his eyes almost black. “Exactly that, cariño. Ride me.”

  Her voice came out husky. “Yes, Master.” She gripped his shoulders and obeyed, working for his climax, wanting his pleasure, and with each slide down onto his shaft, arousal began unfurling again in her own body. That piercing was too…too… Her inner thighs quivered as heat punched low in her belly and sweat moistened her skin.

  The little sub was incredibly tight, hot, and wet. Her small hands on his shoulders felt…just right. He saw how his orders took precedence over her fears and found the knowledge even more erotic than the way her pussy worked his cock with soft sucking sounds. She watched him with a woman’s desire to share a connection during lovemaking, and her eyes held as much vulnerability and need to please as any submissive he’d met. She didn’t serve from fear, but because the giving fulfilled her.

  She’d grown wetter, and his groin hair was matted with her juices. Her face was flushed, and—so telling—an occasional shiver ran through her when her clit bumped against his pelvis.

  He smiled slightly, pleased. “I didn’t plan to push you, but if you want to join me…” Then you’re going to come again, gatita.

  She looked at him blankly, and he sighed. She was so out of touch with her own body.

  Needing space in which to work, he slid down on the couch until he was half-lying, and she stayed upright. He released her ass and moved his fingers to her front, touching the wetness around the base of his shaft, then her swollen pussy. Her spine went rigid, as if he’d used electrostim on her rather than just his hand. With his fingers covered in her juices, he edged up toward her clit. The thickness of his erection had forced the nub completely out of hiding. He swirled one finger around it.

  Her breathing stopped, then went totally erratic, and she dug tiny fingernails into his shoulders. Her trust in him—to let him rouse her at all—shook him to the bone…but he didn’t stop the slow slide of his finger over her clit. Someday she might like erotic surprises, but today, she’d had enough. He stayed with a steady rhythm, rubbing the right side of her clit as she rose off his dick, the left when she lowered.

  That worked well until she got too excited. Wiggling replaced the rise and fall as her rhythm totally disintegrated.

  He grinned. But her squirming was making his balls feel as if they were going to explode, so he’d better stop stalling. With a palm under her ass, he raised her up, almost off him, then yanked her down as he thrust his hips up.

  She moaned. Her breasts wobbled with the impact. And his cock hardened to the danger point.

  The next time, he held her high, barely on his shaft, and used his fingers on her clit to push her toward her climax. She was panting with little moans. When she started to convulsively grip his shoulders, he dropped her down onto his shaft and had to grit his teeth as his own climax surged near breaking. She was right on the edge when he pushed her up and teased her clit with rhythmic strokes.

  Then, tilting to get the most pressure on her G-spot from his piercing, he slammed her down.

  Her back arched. Her head tipped. Her breathing stopped.

  He murmured to her, “It’s time to come, sumisita,” and as if given permission, her cunt contracted around him like a hot fist; the walls battered at his cock as she climaxed violently. She didn’t scream, not this little abused slave, but a tiny mewl escaped her as she rubbed harder against his fingers, took him deeper, obviously not wa
nting it to end.

  He gave her more, until she loosened her hands on his shoulders, until she was gasping for breath. Por Dios, she was beautiful.

  “My turn now, gatita.” Her eyes were still glazed when he took her hips between his hands to lift her, then yank her down. Up, down. Her vagina contracted around him with each thrust, giving her aftershocks of pleasure that he saw reflected in her flushed face.

  Up, down. His balls contracted against his groin; his erection swelled, ready to burst. He rode the edge, unwilling to release as the pressure at the base of his spine grew and then blasted out of his control, ripping through his cock in hard spasms. The feeling of his hot seed filling her soft cunt shook him.

  When his mind cleared, he managed to move, lifting and turning on the couch so he could flatten out. He puffed a pillow under his head, brought his leg up onto the cushions. Still sitting on his dick, she sagged, her eyes closed, only her arms holding her upright as if she’d frozen into that position.

  Or feared to lie on him?

  “Come here, cariño,” he murmured, pulling her hands from his shoulders and letting her drop down on his chest. She started to push up again.

  “Shhh.” He placed one hand on her ass, keeping them pinned together so his softening cock remained in her cunt as he coaxed her to put her legs between his. Finally she lay flat on top of him. Yes, he could have withdrawn and arranged them more easily, but he wanted to stay inside her, reminding her of their connection—one of pleasure, not pain.

  He curved his hand at the back of her head, nudging it onto his shoulder. When he put his arms around her and held her firmly, her last bit of resistance fled, and she lay quietly. Hot and sweaty and slick, this soft woman whose curves fit him in all the right places. He couldn’t have designed such a fine melding.

  He lifted his head. Her eyes were closed, worries gone. “I like being in you, Kimberly,” he said softly. “You’re warm and soft, inside and out.”