by Jenna Jacob
He softly chuckled. “So you want me to stop? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No!” I shrieked, unable to contain any semblance of submission. Did he really think I wanted him to leave me hanging in this ungodly desperate state?
“Then tell me what you want, girl,” he demanded, then pressed the crest of his cock against my throbbing pussy.
“I want you to fuck me. Please. Fuck me hard and fast.”
“And who do you want fucking you, sweet slut? Your Sir or your Master?”
As his question slowly penetrated my fervid fog, the air caught in my lungs.
“My Master,” I whimpered.
Pride suffused his face.
“Then beg your Master to fuck you, sweetheart,” he roared.
“Fuck me, Master. Please. Fuck me like you’ve never fucked me before. I need you…need everything about you.”
Sam’s image blurred as tears spilled down my cheeks. I blinked so I could see his face clearly. Pride glowed, yet his jaw ticked. He didn’t move, as if he were locked in place, struggling to gain a semblance of control…control over us both.
“Take your Master’s cock, girl,” he hissed as he drove himself inside me to the hilt.
Ecstasy and pain shot through me like a locomotive. Tossing my head back, I screamed as pleasure and fire ripped through my system. Sam gripped my hips, digging his fingers into my flesh, while my cunt fluttered around him.
“That’s it, baby. Suck the come from my balls, like a good little slave,” Sam choked.
A fine sheen of sweat broke out over his face as he held still inside me.
Bucking and writhing, to escape the burn engulfing my sex, I pressed my feet against the wooden slats and rocked my hips.
“Stop,” he growled. “You don’t decide when I start sliding in and out of your silky, tight pussy. I told you I’d make it better…and I will. In my own sweet time.”
Using his thumb, Sam circled my enflamed clit. Pulses of pleasure zipped and sputtered. My tunnel relaxed. The burning subsided. With a slow drag, Sam pulled back, then pressed past my narrow walls. Over and over, with an achingly slow tempo, as if meant to make me feel every fat inch and distended vein. Intermittent flecks of light flickered and faded behind my eyes as I strained for control.
My control.
Swamped in sensation, the synapses in my brain misfired. Unable to string together the importance or meaning of that realization, too focused on the magic spell Sam had cast upon me.
Friction and pressure increased as did his thrusts while he urged me higher and higher toward that elusive release. Sam’s heavy balls slapped against my puckered rim, sending the nerve endings there to spark and sizzle.
Like a snake ready to strike, release coiled tight.
My whimpers grew frantic.
My limbs trembled.
My fingers and toes grew numb.
The sublime and rabid pressure was crushing my will. I couldn’t stave off the massive orgasm much longer.
“Master…” I whimpered in warning.
“You do not have my permission, girl.” Sam shook his head. Sweat dripped from his face, and his lips thinned in a tight line.
“But I…I can’t hold—”
“You can…and you will,” he insisted in a gruff voice.
“I…I don’t want to…to fail you,” I panted.
My pulse thrummed in my ears, swelling like a cacophony of cymbals, vibrating through my entire body. Squeezing my hips tighter, Sam plowed in and out of my pussy. He stabbed deep, slammed hard, and grunted with every stroke. With a curse, he impaled me with one last savage thrust, then stilled, buried to his balls inside me. Every muscle in his body tensed…turned to stone, while his face contorted from the strain bearing down on him. Still, he held my gaze…showing me the demand and need churning for freedom inside him, too.
“Come, sweet slut. Come for me. Now!”
The roar of his command merged with the thunder of release crashing through me. As I fragmented into a million shards of bending light, my muscles seized. I arched my hips as the most violent orgasm of my life completely and totally annihilated every cell in my body. My screams of rapture filled the room. Sam gritted his teeth as he shoved past my clutching passage and splattered my walls with his hot, slick seed. And with a deafening howl, he cried…
“Mine!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sweating and panting, our chests heaved as we struggled to draw in air. My body hummed as aftershocks quaked and rippled through us both. After several long minutes, Sam released my hips, then slowly crumpled over me. He dropped his head to the crook of my neck, and I wanted to wrap my arms around him and stroke my fingers through his wet hair. But my arms were still bound. I couldn’t move. And for some strange reason, I felt more secure than ever before.
His warm breath caressed my neck as he cupped a hand around my cheek. “Where are you now, little one?” he asked in a low, sated tone.
“I need a different color to choose, because I flew past green about two hours ago. Right now, I just feel…golden,” I explained on a blissful sigh.
Sam’s shoulders shook in silent laughter. “You are golden, sweetheart…my beautiful golden slave.”
He raised his head and studied me. I knew he was trying to discern if the term still held negative connotations. It did, a little. I knew the weight it levied in Sam’s heart. Maybe someday I’d grow to feel the same.
With a nod of understanding, Sam tugged the rope and released me from bondage. Threading his fingers through mine, he gently massaged my hands and wrists. I closed my eyes and drank in his benevolent care. Savored the heat of his naked body against mine and floated on the clouds of golden sunshine that had settled in my head.
As he eased off me and slowly pulled from my core, I mourned the loss of his warmth and safety but couldn’t pull myself away from the pristine peace that hovered within. Even when Sam lifted me off the table, cradled me in his arms, and carried me to his bed, my eyes refused to open. It was as if I didn’t have the energy to lift my heavy lids. I’d never experienced such profound serenity and contentment. It was as if my entire being suddenly fell silent. I didn’t want to do or say anything to break the wonderful spell.
“That’s it,” Sam softly cooed as he slid into bed beside me and drew the covers over us. “You just keep floating for me, sweetheart. I’ll be right here beside you.”
With a passive hum, I curled on my side. Slinging one arm over his chest and my calf over his thigh, I snuggled in with my head on his shoulder. Sam stroked my hair and murmured softly as the enchanting haze lulled me toward darkness.
The sound of a buzzing, annoying alarm woke me from a heavy sleep. Tangled in a heap of arms and legs, Sam cursed as he tried to get free and silence the grating noise. I couldn’t help but laugh when he slammed the clock down on his nightstand with a grunt.
Turning, he narrowed his eyes, but the grin twitching the corners of his mouth told me he was only teasing. “And what’s so funny, girl?”
“Oh, nothing, Sir.”
“Uh-huh. Come on. Let’s take a shower, my saucy little wench. I would have taken you to the spa tub last night, but I wanted my seed branding you while you slept.”
A shiver slid through my system, and I realized that tinges of the fog still remained, clouding my brain.
Stretching, I yawned, then rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “What time is it?”
“Five. An ungodly hour to be awake, but we have to run by your place so you can change, and we have to stop by Ian’s house and pick up your car. That is, unless you want me to drive you to work instead? We can always pick it up later tonight.”
“You’re allowing me to decide, Sir?” I taunted.
“About your vehicle, yes. But not about the spanking you’ll be receiving after work, girl.”
I couldn’t keep the grin from my face. “Then I vote we leave my car there for a day or two. That way, we can come straight back here tonight.”
“If you’re that anxious for me to redden your ass, I can do it now for you. But you’ll have a hard time sitting down to do charts. I promise.”
The thought of wearing a pink hue on my ass cheeks all day flipped some kinky little switch inside me. But I feared once I proffered myself over his knees, I’d end up begging for more than just a spanking.
“The shower might be safer, Sir.”
“Master,” Sam reminded, pointedly, before a wicked smile played across his face. “And safer for who, girl? Certainly not safer for you.”
I felt immersed in this strange and unfamiliar waltz. A dance of anticipation, curiosity, and desire that swelled within, bubbling and tickling my imagination. I held no illusions—Sam had the knowledge and experience to put me through my submissive paces, but I knew he’d do so with love and patience. I couldn’t wait for him to teach me more.
Inside the shower, Sam pampered me like a princess. He washed my hair, massaging my scalp with his skilled fingers before soaping up my body and showing me how incredibly talented his digits could be. As he pressed my chest against the tile, he placed the pulsating hand-held showerhead between my legs and entered me from behind. And while he didn’t edge me, the way he’d done last night, Sam made me wait for his command until I was panting and pleading for relief.
He lent me a T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts so I wouldn’t have to make the walk of shame up to my apartment in a corset and thong. Even when I cinched up the drawstring as tightly as I could, his shorts still barely clung to my hips.
“It’s going to be nice when you move in and take over half my closet, girl.”
“Half? I only get half?” I teased with a feigned gasp. “Do you know how many clothes I own?”
Sam laughed and shook his head. “There are plenty of guest rooms. You can appropriate all the closet space you need.”
“Thank you, Master.” I flashed him a cheeky grin and kissed his lips. “Can I fix you some breakfast before we head to work?”
“I’d like that, sweetheart. And some coffee.”
In the kitchen, Sam sat at the table sipping his coffee while I fried bacon, scrambled eggs, and made toast. Our conversation was light, with lots of playful banter. The idea of living with him, spending our mornings like this, no longer frightened or threatened me. Instead, I was actually looking forward to us sharing more time together. It simply felt right.
As I carried our plates to the table, Sam held up his hand. “Don’t sit down yet, girl. I want you to go to the living room and bring me one of the throw pillows from the couch, please.”
“Yes, Master.” I nodded, wondering what he was up to.
After I retrieved the pillow for him, Sam placed it on the floor beside his chair.
“Kneel,” he instructed.
I wanted to argue that my breakfast was going to get cold but forced the debate down and complied.
“Very nice,” he softly praised as he filled his fork with a clump of fluffy eggs, then drew it down to my lips. “Eat, Allisinda.”
This is certainly different…and awkward, my conscience confirmed.
Still, I wasn’t going to refuse his instructions simply because they made me feel uncomfortable and prickly. Timidly, I opened my mouth, and Sam gently slid the fork over my tongue. A proud smile spread across his lips before he turned and took a bite himself.
“Feeding you is my way of saying thank you for preparing my meal. I believe a good Dom should never take a submissive’s gifts for granted.”
While the way Sam displayed his gratitude was foreign, if not wholly unorthodox, I relaxed and let him indulge us both.
After breakfast was through, he helped me to my feet. Sam even insisted he clean up the kitchen with me before we headed to my apartment and on to the hospital. Escorting me to the unit, he kissed me outside the double doors and told me to have a good day before heading upstairs to his office.
I felt as if I were floating on cloud nine as I began my usual morning routine. Liz came rushing in, eyes wide in question as she held up her hand.
“Let me clock in before you fill me in.” I laughed and shook my head.
A wry smile curled on her lips. “Well, well. Now look who’s wearing that just-fucked glow, sister.”
I laughed as she gave a fist pump and raced away. When she returned, we each grabbed a cup of coffee. Since the unit was unusually quiet—a sure sign all hell would be breaking loose soon—we sat down, and I quickly filled her in on the night’s events.
Pure, unadulterated happiness danced in her eyes, and it almost seemed as if she couldn’t wipe the smile from her lips.
“Oh, my god, Cin. I’m so flipping happy for you. This is exactly how Masters and I hoped it would turn out.”
“Don’t get so excited yet,” I warned. “Sam’s a little ticked off at Ian right now.”
Liz’s smile finally fell away. “Why? Because Ian set him up to find you at the house last night?”
I blinked and giggled. “He did?”
“You bet your ass.” She laughed. “You two were about the saddest little kicked puppies he’d seen in a long time. And of course, being the control freak he is—and if you tell him I said that, I’ll beat your ass, hard,” she warned, narrowing her eyes, “Ian orchestrated the whole damn thing.”
“Well, when you get home tonight, tell him I said thank you. But that’s not what Sam’s upset about. He’s mad because Ian didn’t tell him that Matti never showed up.”
Liz snorted and shook her head. “No. As soon as Ian explains, Sam won’t be upset. In fact, he’ll probably fall all over the place thanking him.”
“What do you mean, thanking him?” I was totally lost.
“Duh,” Liz chided. “The guys own a detective agency. James had been tailing you for days.”
“What?” I gasped before slapping my hand over my mouth. “When? Where?”
“All the time…everywhere.” She laughed. “He staked out your apartment, then followed you to work.”
“Where was he when Darnell-dipshit came pounding on my door, drunk as a skunk?”
She cringed. “He…well, he followed you home, made sure you were inside safely, then left for a few minutes to come by the house for a—”
“A booty call?” I smirked.
“Yeah,” she blushed. “James was beside himself. Oh, my god, I’ve never seen him so upset. I’m sorry he wasn’t there to help you, Cin.”
Waving away her apology with my hand, I shook my head. “Don’t be. I’m a big girl. I called the cops, well, after I called Sam—which at the time I thought was a good idea, but not so much when he found out Matti wasn’t there.”
“The important thing is that Darnell won’t be bothering you anymore now that they hauled his ass back to New York. Everything has turned out the way it was supposed to. She smiled.
“Yes. So far, so good…for now.”
“Stop that,” she scolded. “You and I we’ve been through feast and famine when it comes to men. We both are going to live happily ever after.”
“Sure we are.” I grinned and rolled my eyes. “You’ve been reading too many fairy tales, girl.”
Her mouth dropped open, mockingly affronted. “Just wait and see. Then I’ll get to say those four words you despise.”
“What words are those?”
“I. Told. You. So.” She beamed with a victorious smile.
“Don’t hold your breath,” I chided. “Sam and I are going to start living together. That’s light-years away from white lace and promises and choking on. ‘I do,’ and you know it. Besides, I don’t see a ring on your finger, Miss Thang.”
“That’s because Ian and James are still arguing about who gets to be my legal owner.”
“Christ, that sounds awful, like you’re a dog or something.” I held up my hand as Liz opened her mouth to challenge my words. “I know…I know, it means something completely different. I’m just sayin’.”
Liz glanced at something over my shoulder. “Looks li
ke our vacation here is over,” she announced, nodding toward the hall.
Turning, I saw Dixie scurrying our way, followed by several other nurses. “Incoming,” she stated in a grim drawl. “Elementary School bus rolled over. ETA four to six minutes.”
“How awful,” I murmured as a lump caught in my throat.
Dixie shot me a knowing wounded expression. “Metcalf has implemented the mass casualty protocol. The entire staff is being notified as we speak. Monica is bringing in reinforcements from Social Services to give legal consent if we need it. They’ll be working with the school administrators to track down parents.”
I glanced at my watch. “Make sure all ancillary personnel are within earshot along with housekeeping, too,” I instructed, darting a glance to the somber nurses gathered. “We’ve all been trained for this. We know what to do.”
Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed my keys. “I’ll be right back.”
I turned and raced to the supply room and quickly unlocked a drawer. Reaching in, I grabbed all the stuffed animals I could carry, then raced back to the nurses’ station.
“Hand these to any child you think might need a little extra comfort.”
I didn’t have to tell the ladies—most mothers themselves—that the children were going to be terrified. After the plush toys had been tucked in the pockets of our scrubs, I gave a resolute nod.
“Let’s make sure the trauma rooms are stocked and ready to go,” I directed before leading them down the hall.
Tension hummed in the air, like strings of a violin being twisted tighter and tighter. The minutes ticked by interminably slow.
“EMTs are pulling up now,” Dixie called from the communication room.
I sucked in a steely breath as the double doors exploded open. Jeb and Freddy both wore haunted, grim expressions as they wheeled in a little boy—maybe seven or eight—who was screaming in pain and terror. I knew by the look the two EMTs wore I didn’t want details of the accident site. Gripping my notepad tighter, I shoved my empathy away and led the trio into trauma one.
“Broken leg, possible broken ribs, distended belly,” Jeb recited from his run sheet.
The boy had probable internal injuries. A glance at Metcalf said he knew that as well. Two nurses were already moving the portable x-ray machine in place before the doctor was even able to give the order. The staff was well trained and dedicated. I knew in my heart we would weather this storm no matter what.