Master of the Dark Side: A Novella

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Master of the Dark Side: A Novella Page 5

by Cherise Sinclair


  After kneeling on the foot of the bed, he let himself down onto an elbow where he could look at her pussy to his heart’s content. The soft light showed her puffy outer lips glistening with her juices. Her legs were wide enough to open her inner folds, exposing her entrance as well. When he touched her, slickness coated his fingers, the finest compliment a man could get.

  “You’re all swollen and wet, sweetheart,” he murmured. When he opened her labia farther, her thighs tensed.

  With a finger, he stroked wetness from her entrance upward, making her legs jerk with each light brush over her clit. Her breathing changed, deepened, and he saw the muscles in her forearms tighten as she forced herself not to move.

  Fuck, he could play with her all day, and he’d still want more. When she’d climaxed so hard before, it had been better than scoring a tie-breaking touchdown, than making a bull’s-eye, than reaching a mountain peak. And he damned well wanted to make her come again. He bent his head and licked her, teasing with his pointed tongue. Under his mouth, her clit engorged, and the hood pulled back, leaving it totally vulnerable to his attentions.

  She tasted like a day in July, hot and lightly musky, and when he grazed his lips over the crease between her hip and thigh, he breathed in vanilla and peaches. So very female, making him feel even more male. More dominant. Trapped in his jeans, his rigid cock strained to be free.

  “Mmmm, you even taste like summer.” He slid his tongue across her entrance and pushed his tongue into her. She half gasped, half moaned, and her legs jerked but were held fast. He’d dreamed of having a woman in this kind of helpless position where he could tease without her trying to distract him. He’d told himself he was a sicko.

  But if he was, so was everyone else in this place.

  She wanted what he had to offer; she trusted him with her body, her emotions. He’d give her everything he had…but damned if he’d hurry.

  He set a hand just above her mound, pinning her down as he thrust his tongue into her cunt, then out to run over her clit. As her breathing turned erratic, the fragrance of her excitement increased. So did that…connection between them. It was like riding a wild mustang, forcing it to go where he wanted; reading its ears, its breathing, its muscles, and shifting his weight in response…enjoying the heady victory when it conceded he was the master. Right now, he could almost feel the sensations she was experiencing—and how her arousal was spiraling out of her control.

  Summer felt as if she’d fallen into an inferno of need. Her fingernails bit into her thighs as she tried to keep from grabbing his hair and yanking him closer. “Please, please don’t stop.”

  “You, little sub, don’t have permission to speak, except for your safe word.” He idly licked over her clit, then added, “I’m not a cruel man, so you can scream or moan if you must.” He thrust his tongue inside her again and wiggled it.

  Her eyes rolled back, and she whispered, “Oh God.”

  He rose up enough to shake his head at her in disapproval, and then studied her for a minute. “Dammit,” he said to himself and lightly slapped the top of her mound, just missing her clit.

  The abrupt sting shot down into her core, swelling every nerve until her entire pussy throbbed. She barely managed to close her mouth so only an “uhhhh” escaped.

  He made a thoughtful noise, and she felt his finger pressing against her opening where her vagina was spasming from the pain…and the pleasure.

  “Hell of a response,” he muttered. “You got wetter.” She heard a packet rip, rustling noises. Then his tongue came down on her clit, just her clit, flickering and circling. Pressure clenched inside her, and her muscles tightened. Every stroke of his tongue, hot and wet and determined, brought her closer…

  Something pressed against her anus. No. “No. You—”

  Another slap to her mound, and the sharp pain almost sent her over. Her head spun. Her pussy seemed caught in a vise of throbbing sensation.

  “This won’t be my large cock, honey.” His chuckle was low as he added, “Just my finger.” He didn’t wait for her answer, but ruthlessly pushed harder until his slick finger slid past the ring of muscle.

  He felt huge. A tremor ran through her at the feeling of him inside her, pressing deeper into the forbidden place. “I—”

  His head lifted.

  She hastily clamped her mouth shut and saw his lips quirk before he resumed.

  Nerves sparked to life around the intrusion, joining the ones in her pussy, until her entire core pulsed with sensation.

  Slowly his finger moved in and out of her back hole—and his tongue thrust roughly into her pussy in an entirely different rhythm. She trembled, unable to process anything as each touch demanded her attention. His tongue moved upward and onto her clit, stroke after stroke, until she moaned.

  He gently tugged at the sensitive nub with his teeth, and sensation blasted through her. She gasped.

  A rumble of laughter, and then his finger in her ass drove in deeper, and her hips jerked up, trying for more, trying for less. She had no control anymore.

  He kept thrusting, hard and fast, and then closed his mouth over her clit, sucking in the same rhythm.

  Every nerve in her body fired at once, and the massive explosion of sensation ripped through her, hot pleasure searing its way upward. She screamed. “Aaaa, aaa, aaah.”

  When the waves slowed and she could breathe, he sucked her clit into his mouth again. Her back arched, her pussy clenched harder than a fist. Her anus constricted around his invasive finger.

  He didn’t stop, and she moaned and wiggled and then broke into almost hysterical giggles. “Stop. Oh God, please stop.”

  Oh, oh, goddammit. She’d spoken. He lifted his head, amusement glinting in his eyes as he raised the hand he’d been leaning on.

  He smacked her mound sharply, and this time he hit her swollen clit…and at the same moment, he pushed a second finger inside her asshole.

  “Noooooooo.” Everything spasmed into a paroxysm of pleasure, and she came again, brutally intense.

  A minute later, when he slid his fingers from her, her body clenched again, and she moaned. As she stared at the canopy above, it seemed to shimmer with every violent heartbeat. Sweat dampened her neck and breasts, and she couldn’t stop gasping.

  Note to self—don’t talk without permission.

  After sitting back on his heels, he disposed of the glove, then opened his jeans and rolled on a condom. Oh Lord, his cock was built like him, solid and big. Nicely long, but thick, thick, thick. He lowered himself between her legs, his body covering hers, his heavy weight erotic. His crisp chest hair teased her still-sensitive nipples to peaks, and she rubbed her breasts against him, wanting more.

  He smiled into her eyes. “Every time you squirm, all I want to do is take you hard.” He put his weight on his elbow and set one big hand on her breast. His thumb teased over the nipple and sent streams of sensation to her pussy.

  The head of his cock rubbed against her entrance.

  What was he waiting for? She tilted her hips up, trying to urge him on. He didn’t move.

  She frowned and met his eyes to see heat mixing with determination and authority. He had control.

  “When I want to.” He ran his finger over her lips. “You don’t get a vote, honey.”

  The knowledge that she didn’t have to try to decide what to do to please him was heady. Freeing. His will surrounded her, his eyes watched her, removing any chance of hiding her response to his touch. “Yes, Sir.” Take what you will. Take me.

  He smiled approval and leaned down. His hand lightly curved over her throat, not cutting off her air, but it still sent hot shivers rippling through her. His fingers were strong, warm, and then he took her mouth roughly. His hand on her neck kept her from moving, holding her in a totally submissive space as he dominated the kiss.

  He didn’t move away until her entire body lay limp under him. He nodded, satisfaction a gold color in his eyes. “Good. Put your hands on my shoulders,” he said, his
voice lower and rougher, vibrating against her bones. “Don’t move them from there, is that clear?”

  Oh God, he made her so hot. So wet. “Yes, Sir.” Calling him that sounded right. She curled her fingers over his shoulders, feeling how his skin stretched over iron-hard muscles. She ran her hand down his deltoid, over the hollow in his triceps, and around to the curve of his biceps. He could do anything he wanted to her, she realized; he was just that strong. She stiffened, her fingernails digging into him in momentary fear.

  His eyes narrowed, and just looking into them—at his face with his determined jaw, the laugh lines beside his mouth—her worry seeped away.

  His slow smile warmed her. “Better. Now I want you perfectly still.” His eyes crinkled as he whispered, “I’m going to fill you full, and you’re not going to move as I do.”

  Oh God.

  Before she had a chance to react, he was pushing into her. The head of his cock breached her entrance, so wide he had to slide in and out in increments before her muscles stretched to accommodate him. “Fuck, you’re tight, baby.”

  The effort of holding still sent tremors up and down her body as he surged in farther. Wonderful, painful, thrilling stretching, more and more until his pelvis finally pressed firmly against hers. Every nerve throbbed, waiting for the delicious friction—

  He pulled back, then thrust again, and she groaned at the exhilarating surge of sensation. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, and he looked at her, eyes glowing with heat—and warning. “Don’t move, Summer.”

  The need to control herself made everything so much more intense. Holding her breath, keeping so very still…

  “That’s a girl.” His grin flashed.

  Supporting himself on one arm, he used the other to lift her ass so he could rub his groin on her pussy with every stroke. The pressure, the brush of his hair over her sensitive clit, and the glide of his erection between her folds drove her mad, pushing her higher and higher until she couldn’t help it and tried to grind against him.

  “Summer,” he warned.

  “Oh please,” she whispered, the size of him stretching her with each thrust. Her clit tightened, hardened, needing more, until her moans were almost constant.

  When her head rolled on the pillow, he moved the hand bearing his weight up higher to tangle his fingers in her hair, trapping her. His weight pinned her body, she couldn’t move her head, could only stare at his rugged face, feel his hand under her ass moving her to his own satisfaction.

  As if he’d taken away her last barrier, a violent tremor ran through her. And then everything inside her clenched and burst outward. Hot pleasure engulfed her as her core spasmed around his intrusion.

  He started a hard, fast rhythm, and the hammering of his shaft kept her orgasm going, drawing out the pleasure until the room lost focus. His hand pulled her hair painfully as he pressed deep, deeper. Under her fingers, his shoulders hardened, and he made a guttural sound. His cock jerked inside her as he came.

  After a moment, he rested his forehead against hers, the movement so friendly and intimate that she sighed with happiness. He loosened his hand in her hair and nuzzled the damp strands at her temple. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, his voice deep with satisfaction. “You’d be a delight in bed in normal circumstances, but when you”—he hesitated, as if uncomfortable with the word—“submit, the pleasure almost takes my head off. You’re beautiful, Summer.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” she whispered. As if he knew how comforting his closeness was, he stayed inside her a satisfyingly long time. Stroking his hand over her breasts and stomach, he kissed her now and then, letting her come back to reality surrounded by his warmth.

  When she took a long shuddering breath, he gave her his slow smile and moved off, pulling his cock out with a sigh. After disposing of the condom, he released her legs, helping her work the kinks out. Then he lay down and pulled her against his side.

  He smelled of sex and man and a hint of outdoorsy aftershave, and she sighed and settled her head in the hollow of his shoulder. She ruffled her fingers through his chest hair, tracing out the indentations of his nipples hidden within, and tried to think when she’d felt so satisfied. So content, as if every empty space in her body and soul had been filled to overflowing.

  Eventually he kissed her forehead. “You sure you don’t want to go back to my hotel room for a couple of hours?”

  God. His unexpected question hit her hard, like he’d taken her lungs and squeezed the air out of them. She pushed up on her elbow. When he lifted her hand to his lips, she saw the tiny scars on her forearm where Dirk’s cane had split her skin. Other scars decorated her back. Nothing too noticeable—perhaps she should be grateful for having pale skin—but always there. “No. I’m sorry, but no.”

  “All right.” He opened her hand and laid it against his cheek. His light brown stubble scraped her palm, and his cheekbone was hard under her fingertip. Heavy bones, like the man, solid and unmovable. “Then will you meet me for breakfast? You can pick the place. I’ve got to return home tomorrow, but I want to see you before I leave.” His brow creased. “There’s… something… between us. I’d like to come back and visit you.”

  She shook her head.

  He gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, but his eyes had changed, golden brown to green, and already she knew the signs of his disappointment. Anger too? She tensed and examined his face carefully. He was a dom, used to getting his own way. Her gaze dropped to his hand as an echo of Dirk sounded in her head: “Fucking bitch, you’ll do it my way or else.”

  “I realize you don’t know me well,” Virgil said in an even voice, “but it bothers me when you look at me as if you believe I might hit you.”

  Her eyes flashed up to his, and she realized she’d been staring at his hand. Waiting for his anger. “I-I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “I think I get it. Did he beat you up more than once?”

  “No,” she said without thinking. “I mean—”

  “Do not lie to me, Summer.” Under her palm, the muscles of his face turned to steel. “That does piss me off, and considering your lack of clothing and your position, it would be easy to spank your ass again.”

  She stiffened, despite the wave of heat.

  “Now, just so you know, I punched a girl once.” His eyes narrowed in thought. “We had an all-out brawl, in fact.”

  The heat turned cold, and she started to pull away, but he laid his hand over hers, keeping it on his face. “She wanted only her friends on the merry-go-round, and I didn’t think that was right. My brothers and I wanted to play too. She pushed me down and—”

  Wait a minute. Merry-go-round? “Exactly how old were you?”

  “About four.” The sun lines at the corners of his eyes deepened. “Morgan told on me—the rat—and my father had a discussion with me about the Masterson philosophy of how a man treats a lady. It didn’t matter how short the man was. Only a few things got Pa riled enough to wallop us, and I’d run square into that one.”

  “You were four.” She stared at him, and laughter bubbled up, catching her by surprise. “You’re such a jerk.”

  “Very true. But, Summer, that was the last time I hit a woman.” His mouth turned up into a wry smile. “At least until recently.”

  Her muscles tightened again, and then she realized what he meant. “For BDSM.”

  He nodded. “My cousin fell in love with a dom, so I checked into it to see if I needed to kill him before they got married.”

  “And you liked it.”

  He sighed. “Yeah. Can’t say I’m comfortable about the notion.”

  He massaged her fingers, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles. His hand felt so warm, she knew hers must be icy cold. She felt cold, in fact. I’m not ready to be with a real dom. He might be new, but he was damned well dominant.

  “Does anything I’ve said change your mind about seeing me, Summer?” he asked softly.

  She shook her head, the fear deeper than the unhappiness sweepi
ng through her. I want to… “I c-can’t. I’m sorry.”

  “And I’m sorry that I can’t convince you to trust me, at least that far.”

  A discreet tap on the door made him look up, and he frowned. “We’ve hogged this room long enough, apparently.” He rolled off the bed, picked her up around the waist, and set her on her feet. His strength still stole her breath.

  He dressed faster than she did, nudged her hands away, and finished lacing up her vest. The feel of his sure fingers made her nipples harden, and he ran his finger over one, then kissed the top of her head. “Pretty Summer.”

  She didn’t have any words to give him back.

  After slinging his toy bag over his shoulder, he led the way out of the room. In the dungeon, he stopped. “Thank you for the evening,” he said, his eyes shadowed by his hat. Looming over her, he tilted her chin up and gave her a kiss. A gentle, lingering, good-bye kiss.

  She watched him walk away, saw how people automatically moved out of his path. So very dominant…and she wanted him back so badly her chest ached.

  Chapter Five

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  Virgil’s drive home to Bear Flat seemed to last forever. In the quiet of his truck, he couldn’t evade the memories of the previous night and the beauty of Summer’s responses. He had to face his own reactions and the unsettling realization that he’d known what to do to push her and how to take her further until she was aware of only him and the pain and pleasure he gave her.

  With Summer, he’d learned what Logan meant by breaking down a submissive’s barriers, opening her to the moment and to sheer pleasure.

  He’d felt the joy in the exchange—they’d been so connected that he could almost hear her thoughts and feel the sensations she was experiencing. Knowing she’d willingly given him such power over her had been headier than drinking a bottle of scotch.

  It felt good, but did that make it right? Fucking-A. He’d tied her up, taken her choices away from her, and dammit, that was wrong. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He might be a tad overprotective when it came to women, but he damned well believed women were equal to men in everything except pure, dumb muscle. Hell, if he’d thought differently, his little cousin would have kicked his balls into his throat.

 

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