Lured By My Master

by Jenna Jacob

  His gaze held me with a look so bold and daring he seemed to steal my soul. Then he tenderly brushed the hair from my face and cocked his head. “You’re not in charge here, sweetheart. I’ll give you everything you ache for…eventually. So just relax, and let me take care of you.”

  I licked my lips and trembled as I nodded ever so slightly.

  “That’s my girl.”

  He picked me up, cradling me against his naked chest as he walked toward the bed. With an intense stare that stripped me to the bone, he lowered me to the mattress. I wanted to believe that nothing, not even his dark desires, and or no one, namely Destiny, could tear Sam and me apart.

  With rapt attention, I watched as he toed off his shoes and kicked out of his slacks. I drank in the perfection of his body, the rippling muscles bunching and flexing, and the golden hue of his flesh.

  Suddenly Sam launched to the bed. Unceremoniously, he gripped my thighs, spreading my legs wide open. Parting my folds with the pads of his thumbs, he let out a raspy growl before bending in close to draw a flat tongue up my center.

  Crying out, I arched at the sinful swipe. My stomach muscles bunched and quivered as Sam focused on my clit. Laving and lashing my sensitive button, Sam wrapped his lips around the nub and pulled as if striving to suck the pleasure from me. Gone was his usual slow, methodical seduction, replaced by a seemingly harsh and primitive need. With each stab of his tongue, I could feel his urgency to conquer, claim, own. And when he filled me with his fingers, strumming my g-spot with the perfect stroke of pressure, stars pulsed and flickered behind my eyes.

  Holding tight to his scalp, I cried out for more. Every ending sang in bliss while ecstasy hummed and ricocheted inside me. In a matter of minutes, Sam soared me to the heavens—fast and hard.

  I was more than desperate to hurl myself into the dazzling abyss, and keening cries of need tore from the back of my throat.

  Sam lifted from my cunt, his eyes narrow, his mouth and chin shimmering in my slickness, a feral smile curled on his lips. “Beg for me, Allisinda.”

  Shivers slid up my spine. Demand pressed in around me. Sam had used that same command dozens of times. But knowing the significance of his request, I wasn’t sure I had the courage to degrade my dignity and give him the power to control me now.

  “Say it, sweetheart,” he instructed, then gently scraped his teeth over my clit.

  With a jerk and a gasp, I writhed and whimpered. “Please, Sam. Please.” Despite my reservations, the words tumbled effortlessly off my lips.

  Triumph blazed in his eyes. Blinking rapidly, I fought the tears of defeat and focused on the slow velvet stroke of his fingers still buried inside me.

  “Not yet, gorgeous,” he denied on a raspy growl before clasping his mouth over my sex once more.

  I was drowning in desire. Sam obliterated my defiance and fears while I began to slip past the point of no return.

  “I…I can’t hold back. It’s too…too much,” I panted, gripping his scalp in desperation.

  Inching from my pussy, Sam gazed up at me. “Yes. That’s it. Suffer for me, sweetheart.”

  The satisfaction illuminating his face was all but blinding. “I am,” I mewled.

  “More, baby.” His voice dipped, sliding over my flesh like warm caramel. “I want all you can endure.”

  “I can’t…hold back,” I gasped, writhing beneath his masterful touch.

  “You can…you will,” he challenged in a buttery-soft whisper.

  Forcing down the quickening tide, I panted and whimpered as Sam resumed his blissful onslaught. Sliding one hand beneath me, he lifted my hips off the bed, ravenously feasting on me.

  My body bowed in search of more friction. More suction. More…everything.

  Pressure built as my soul lifted to the heavens. The decadent sensations Sam compelled set my nerve endings to swell. Tighten. Desperate to burst beneath his onslaught of pleasure.

  “Sam!” I screamed. I was going to come with or without his command.

  The motion of his body blurred as he clamored to his hands and knees. Hoisting my legs even higher, he drove his cock inside me with one feral thrust. Incoherent words spilled from my lips as he angled in deeper to drag his swollen crest over my g-spot as demand spiked and surged. Consumed in an annihilating white and blinding light, I issued a helpless moan, then screamed his name and shattered. Spasming around his cock, I gripped his arms as ripples of rapture engulfed me.

  Sam hissed, then grunted. His body grew taut. His muscles strained and quivered as he gripped my hips in a vice-like hold. As he plowed through my clasping tunnel, his face contorted. Then, with a rumbling shout, he followed me over.

  His hot seed splattering my wall only intensified my release. And after several long minutes floating in sublime liquid peace, Sam gently lowered my hips to the mattress before crumpling over me.

  With his head nestled in the crook of my neck, our ragged breathing filled the air, while my tunnel involuntarily fluttered and throbbed around him. Lifting a heavy arm, I softly scraped my fingernails through the sweat-soaked hair at his nape, boneless and quivering in sated perfection.

  My sluggish brain slowly stirred back to life, and I realized he hadn’t verbally told me to come like he always did. Yes, he’d asked me to beg, like usual, but before he could sanction my release, I had already come. Even more confusing was that Sam hadn’t pinned my arms above my head this time, either. Was there some underlying message he wanted to convey? I didn’t know.

  I also didn’t know why he hadn’t stopped to sheath himself with a condom. Sam had always gloved up in the past. Because I was on the pill, I was unconcerned about pregnancy, and we were both clean. Had he been so caught up in the moment he’d simply forgotten? Or was Sam pulling some alpha caveman shit to ensure our relationship remained locked up nice and tight.

  Tinges of guilt wormed their way into my brain. I struggled to analyze my feelings of regret and the notion that I’d somehow failed him.

  “I can hear your thoughts swirling, Cin.” He lifted his head and stared at me with a crooked smile. “Tell me. What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

  “I’m sorry I came so fast…before you could tell me to.”

  A slow smile crept over his lips. “No apology needed. I wasn’t going to tell you to come for me this time.”

  “Why not?” I blinked, more confused than ever.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy the hell out of controlling your release. But I wanted you to grasp that you’re always going to be your own woman. In charge of your own body. BDSM isn’t about me trying to steal your identity or spirit or any of your self-esteem. It’s not about whips and chains and pain. It’s simply the willingness to trust…to put yourself in my hands with the belief and faith that I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe, both physically and emotionally. That’s the kind of freedom I ache to show you.”

  Sam’s words painted a dreamy illusion, like the soothing muted colors in a work by Monet. But I’d seen the various implements of torture in the dungeon with my own eyes—everything in that room screamed imprisonment instead of freedom.

  “I’m not sure I can do that,” I whispered.

  “Listen, I don’t expect you to comprehend all you’ve been exposed to tonight in a matter of minutes. But dammit, Cin, I don’t want to lose you. I want to own you.”

  Own me? Every muscle in my body turned to granite, but my eyes nearly popped out of my skull.

  Sam scowled and shook his head at the sight of my mortification. “Not like an object. Dammit. That’s not what I meant. I want to cherish you…treasure you, because that’s what you are to me…a treasure.”

  Cherish…treasure? His words were nothing but oxymorons. It was as if he wanted me to believe owning me was somehow romantic.

  “You can’t own anyone, Sam. Christ, that’s…that’s insane.”

  With an exasperated sigh, he scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Look, all I want you to do is open your mind. Giv
e me a chance and taste my Dominance before you decide that the power exchange isn’t for you.”

  “What if I can’t do that?”

  “You’ll never know until you try, Allisinda,” he murmured in a whiskey-soft drawl.

  Then he brushed a kiss to my lips, as if he could magically wipe away my fears. I wasn’t going to let that happen, but when his kiss grew urgent and hot, they began to lift. I wanted to stay mad at the man, fight for my morals. But most of all, I wanted to convince him that he wasn’t a Dominant. Sam was loving and kind.

  You seriously think you can change this man? my conscience mocked.

  Blocking out the tide of uncertainty rising inside me, I nibbled the plump flesh of his lip. Sam sucked in a hiss of approval before claiming my mouth with another arduous kiss. His cock grew hard inside me once again as our tongues dueled for supremacy.

  “I want you, Cin…I want your surrender, but most of all, I just want you.”

  Before I could respond to his heartfelt plea, a knock came from the door.

  “Someone better be dead,” Sam grumbled as he begrudgingly eased from inside me.

  As he stood and snagged his trousers off the floor, a second knock—louder and more impatient—sounded.

  “I’m coming. Give me a damn minute to get my clothes on,” he barked, tucking his erection beneath the fabric and carefully drawing up the zipper.

  Sam yanked the door open with such force I thought it might fly off its hinges. Clutching the comforter around me, I sucked in a gasp. Tony Delvaggio—the highly respected psychologist who gave regular lectures at the hospital—was standing in Sam’s doorway.

  “Sorry to disturb you, man. But we’ve got an emergency. Kerr’s been shot.”

  “What? Where?” Sam barked, jerking on his shirt.

  “Someone outside shot him. He staggered into the club and collapsed when he reached the dungeon,” Tony explained grimly. “Sammie’s calling an ambulance, but Kerr’s in pretty bad shape. We could use your help.”

  “Yes, of course. Cin and I will be right there,” Sam assured.

  As if suddenly realizing Sam wasn’t alone, Tony glanced my way. His eyes grew wide as recognition set in. “Nurse Noland,” he greeted tightly before pinning Sam with an unhappy expression. “She knows the rules, right?”

  “I hadn’t gotten around to that yet,” Sam replied. “I’ll tell her now.”

  “Make sure she signs a waiver,” Tony grumbled as he turned and stomped away.

  “What waiver? What rules?” I asked.

  Sam hastily tossed my clothes on the bed. I flipped back the covers and began to quickly get dressed.

  “There are a number of rules here, but one is vital to the safety of the members.”

  “Go on,” I pressed as I slid on my shoes.

  “What you see here, but more importantly who you see, doesn’t leave the club. Anonymity is paramount. Outing a member is…well, it can ruin people’s lives. Protecting each other’s identities is a must.”

  “I understand.” I nodded, rising from the bed and walking toward him. “My lips are sealed about this club and any people I happen to see here. I promise.”

  “Thank you.” Sam gripped the knob and opened the door. “Let’s go see if we can help Kerr…the slimy motherfucker.”

  “I take it you don’t like the man.”

  “No. I don’t. He’s a player. And if the circumstances were different, I’d tell you to steer clear of him,” Sam snarled as we made our way against the flow of members streaming into the hallway from the dungeon.

  “A player? You mean, like, a man-whore?”

  “No. A player, as in someone who doesn’t take the lifestyle seriously. Pretends at it. Thinks it’s a game. Kerr tries to slap his collar on every unowned sub, not because he wants to help them grow in their submission but because he wants to put another notch in his bedpost.”

  More members poured into the hallway and began entering the numerous rooms. Sam and I fought our way through the surge of bodies as anxious voices filled the air. Once we entered the dungeon, the buzz of loud voices and movement charged the air around me. Doms were hurriedly releasing their subs from the equipment and wrapping them in blankets or their arms before guiding them away from the commotion near the big red curtain.

  Someone bumped into my shoulder, nearly knocking me off my feet. As my body twisted, I caught sight of Drake, a big, burly biker-looking dude, and his young, thin, blond-haired lover, Trevor—a former patient of the ER. Drake held Trevor, who wore a look of total panic, in his arms as he charged toward the private rooms.

  Sam jerked to a halt so suddenly that I nearly plowed into his back. Peeking around his body, I saw Destiny. Terror marred her flawless face as she gripped Sam by the arm.

  “Help him, Master Sam,” she begged with tears in her eyes.

  “I’ll do all I can for him, girl,” Sam answered in soft reassurance.

  A jolt of jealousy seized me. The tender exchange between the two was a visceral slap to the face. Even if they weren’t sexually involved—which I still wasn’t completely convinced—Destiny and Sam shared a visible, intimate bond that excluded me altogether. Even if I somehow managed to accept his Dominant desires, I suspected that Sam would still feel obligated to help the subs here. The idea of him touching any other woman made me see red, while my heart ripped in two.

  “Make some room,” Sam barked before tucking his arm around my waist and drawing me in close beside him.

  Dragging me with him, he shouldered his way through the crowd hovering over the victim. Focused on Kerr and the copious amount of blood oozing from beneath his prone body, I could tell the man’s injuries were critical. Someone was applying pressure to his chest and abdomen. The cloths being used were turning crimson far too rapidly. We’d be lucky if we were able to save him. Dragging my gaze to the woman aiding the man, I nearly swallowed my tongue.

  It was Liz kneeling beside Kerr, trying to stem the flow of blood.

  A startled look flashed across her face when our eyes met, before she turned her attention on Sam. “I feel like I’m losing the battle here,” she mumbled.

  Ian and James stood behind Liz, watching over her like a couple of bodyguards. I was still reeling with the onslaught of jealousy prickling my veins, when a new wave of emotions poured over me, mixing with the already bubbling cauldron within. I didn’t have the luxury to process my feelings of jealousy, anger, betrayal, disbelief, and sadness invading me. Kerr needed help. The kind of help that Liz, Sam, and I could provide. Welcoming the professional instinct that suddenly kicked in, I prayed it would be enough to keep my messy emotions at bay.

  Dropping to the floor, I grabbed a couple of clean towels stacked near the victim before moving in alongside Liz.

  Jerking her head up, she issued a tight smile. “Thanks. Grab some gloves.”

  Liz shoved at a box of latex gloves with her knee. I grabbed two pair, handing off a set to Sam as he settled on the floor opposite Liz and me.

  “Vitals?” he prompted as he rolled up his sleeves and donned the protective gloves.

  That calm, controlled professional voice of his seemed to center me as I, too, covered my hands.

  “Pulse is thread, but he still has one. Blunt trauma to the head and face. It looks like someone worked him over with a crowbar,” Liz stated grimly. “Bullet wound to the abdomen, another to the chest.”

  She didn’t have to say more. The amount of blood growing beneath Kerr’s body proved it wouldn’t be long before he’d code. Another stack of towels was placed on the floor beside Sam. I glanced up to find Destiny staring at him with a look of worry and devotion.

  “Thank you, girl,” Sam replied in a tone suffused in affection.

  What the fuck am I doing here? Doing with Sam? I didn’t belong in a BDSM club, and I certainly didn’t belong with him. I had nothing to offer him, at least not the kind of things he obviously craved. But his spank slut or pain whore or whatever the hell he called her did. The bitch was
right by his side, catering to his every need, just like a proper submissive should.

  If it hadn’t been for Kerr, bleeding out in front of me, I would have walked out the fucking door.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I mentally shoved my insecurities and everyone—especially Destiny—from my mind and focused on the victim. Shutting off all emotion, I flipped into autopilot and found the familiar rhythm Liz and I shared at work. As Sam assessed Kerr’s wounds more thoroughly, I kept a finger pressed against his carotid. His pulse was weakening at an alarming rate. A pall of death hung heavy in the air, and the tight line on Sam’s lips confirmed what I’d already known—Kerr was running on borrowed time.

  “Where’s the fucking ambulance?” Sam snarled to no one in particular.

  “It’s on the way,” Sammie called back, visibly distraught.

  “That’s not soon enough,” he murmured grimly.

  Kerr’s heartbeat fluttered twice on my fingertips, then stopped.

  “I’ve lost his pulse,” I stated quietly.

  “Fuck,” Sam hissed. Rising to his knees, he began chest compressions.

  The crowd gathered around us fell deathly still.

  “Shit,” Liz mumbled. “We’ve got to get him back.”

  “I’m working on it,” Sam grunted.

  Grabbing one of the clean towels Destiny had delivered, I pried open Kerr’s jaw and sopped the blood from inside his mouth. Just as I tilted his head back to begin resuscitations, a man cried out that the ambulance had arrived.

  “About fucking time,” Sam spat.

  Staring off over my shoulder, Sam curled his lips. A wry look of resignation settled over his face. When I glanced over my shoulder, my mouth went dry as I watched Jeb and Freddy—EMTs who regularly delivered patients to the ER—hurry toward us with a gurney. When they saw Sam, Liz, and me working on Kerr, both Jeb’s and Freddy’s brows rose in surprise.

  My face grew hot in embarrassment for being caught inside a BDSM kink club. To my surprise and relief, both men slid on a professional veneer without any awkward comments. I prayed they’d remain as tight-lipped once back at the hospital. If not…I could kiss my career good-bye. I closed my eyes and exhaled a long-suffering sigh.