by Anya Summers
And then he held her tight as he pumped his shaft in hard, brutal strokes. “Please, I need to touch you,” she said. “My hands, Sir.”
He undid the Velcro, never stopping his thrusts, pounding into her again and again. With her hands free, she slid them over his wide back, loving the way his muscles bunched and flexed beneath her fingertips.
“Look at me,” he growled.
She lifted her lids.
“Say it again.”
“I love you!” she cried. He rammed his cock deep.
“Again,” he demanded.
“I love you. Oh god!” She keened as the orgasm struck her blind, battered all her defenses, and left her shattered. He strained, his cock jerked, and he poured his climax into her spasming sheath.
“I fucking love you,” he declared, and then buried his face in her neck.
She sighed. Her limbs grew heavy, her body sliding toward sleep. She felt his lips brush against hers.
“Sleep. You need it,” he murmured. And she felt him undo the restraints on her legs.
She floated, and held a hand out toward him. “Don’t leave me.”
“Never,” he said, pulling her against him, until she was spooned against him. He pulled the covers up over them. And Sabrina surrendered to the need to sleep, feeling safe and loved.
If only Michael would love her too, then her life, her world, would be perfect.
Chapter 19
On Saturday night, when the clock struck nine that evening, Sabrina checked out her appearance in the bathroom mirror. As instructed, she had pulled her hair up into a high ponytail and, because she wanted to make an impression for Michael’s sake, she had added curls to it. She was pleased with the end result. Her hand had been heavier with her makeup, and she was proud of the sultry look the smokey eye created. It made her green eyes appear luminous.
Still, she wasn’t sure about the black lace babydoll with scalloped edges over her breasts, and sheer lacy material that left little to the imagination. At least there was a hint of black satin that covered her nipples, and then the satin triangle covering her pussy. But she didn’t even want to think about the back side. She turned and glanced over her shoulder at the seductive tie-back that allowed the small strip of the thong to be fully visible—along with the rest of her bottom.
On the bright side, she was getting used to wearing heels, and the three-inch black stilettos complemented her outfit—or lack of one, however one chose to look at it. It was the whole glass half full or empty type of scenario, and she chose to look at it as half full. The heels did make her legs look fabulous.
“You look edible.” Michael came up behind her, his deep blue gaze caressing her from head to toe.
“Good enough for the club?” she asked, hopeful that she passed muster.
Looking at their reflection in the mirror, Michael put his hands on her waist, sending tendrils of heat through her at his touch. “You’ll be the most sought after submissive in the club. Every Dom will be green with envy that I’m the one who gets to enjoy your bounty. Now, there are two things I want to add.”
She glanced down at her outfit. “I don’t know where you’re going to fit it.”
“Sweet merciful Christ. I’m going to be walking around the club hard all night,” Dante said, joining them. He studied her, lust darkening his chocolate eyes. “If we didn’t have to make an appearance downstairs, I’d have you in bed and bound for our pleasure already.”
Sabrina had rarely used her feminine power. But then again, she was just getting used to being wanted by these men, her Doms, her loves—even though Michael didn’t know it yet. She’d not been able to bring herself to tell him yet. She said, saucily, “If we didn’t have to go down there, I would let you. Promise me we will when we get back.”
Dante said, “You’ve got two hours, tops, in the club. Do your scene and get up here. I will join you thirty minutes or so afterwards. And then you,” he addressed Sabrina, “will be trussed up on the sawhorse, wearing this little number, with my cock filling your sweet cunt.”
She smiled seductively. “Whatever you say, Sir. I’m yours to command.”
“And what about me?” Michael said darkly, turning her around so that she faced them both.
She glanced up at him through her lashes with a demure expression. “You know I belong to you as well, Master.”
“Someone’s getting a little sure of herself,” Michael said with a simmering stare.
“And why wouldn’t she, when she’s not wrong?” Dante commented.
“We should go before I agree with Dante and we end up keeping you to ourselves,” Michael directed with a sigh, like he really was put out that they had to go to the club.
“Lead the way, Sir.”
“In a moment. Dante, if you would?”
“You distracted me, love. This is our collar that you will wear any time you attend the club with us. It says that you belong to us, and keeps all other Doms at bay.” Dante held up a delicate platinum band choker. At the center was a large canary yellow diamond in a teardrop shape.
Stunned, Sabrina gasped. “It’s gorgeous.”
“And engraved on the band underneath on one side are Michael’s initials, and on the other are mine,” Dante said, sliding the necklace around her throat.
The diamond was heavier than it looked. And connected near the clasp was a delicate chain that trailed down to her mid-back. They had turned her into a woman who wore diamonds.
“Next order of business; hold out your wrists,” Michael ordered.
When she did it without question, she basked in the approval in both their gazes as they affixed the leather cuffs around each wrist.
“Now you look perfect,” Michael murmured, and held out his arm for her to take.
“Thank you for this, and the cuffs, both of you,” she said, biting her tongue to keep herself from saying she loved them. It wasn’t the time to tell Michael her feelings. Not when he was bestowing expensive jewelry on her.
She threaded her hand around Michael’s arm, and they headed to the elevator and Club Underworld on the second level of the warehouse. This was only the second time Sabrina had ever been to this level. When she’d cleaned for them, they’d had her stick to the top three floors of the building: their penthouse, the offices and gym on four, and then the private rooms on the third floor every other week—unless requested sooner by the owner of the private room, in which case the owner of the room paid her an extra fee to clean the space.
The elevator opened and a wealth of sound filled the space, with some dark, heavy metal song pumping through hidden speakers. The music competed for dominance with the surfeit of moans from scenes already in progress. The club had heavy, sturdy brick walls, with glossy black floors, and a sleek wood and steel wall bar along the far wall. Leather and spandex appeared to be the couture for the place and, if truth be told, Sabrina realized her outfit was tame by comparison. It made her feel a hundred times better to know that she wasn’t going to stick out like a sore thumb.
Even so, heads turned as they entered, both Doms and subs alike. Eyebrows rose at spying Sabrina on Michael’s arm. And why wouldn’t they? He was a handsome man in his slacks and dress shirt. No leather for her sexy Dom, but then, his choice of slacks made him stand out amongst the crowd of leather.
There were leather couches for seating in the center. Along the walls were scene areas with BDSM furniture, which were cordoned off. There were quite a few scenes going on that made Sabrina blush and glance away, only to have her gaze trail back over and be entranced by the eroticism of it all.
Michael escorted her toward one of the couches facing a few of the scenes.
“We’re going to watch a few of the scenes first before our session. Give people a chance to see you with me. Not to mention, it will heighten the experience for you. And then we will do it like we practiced this week.”
“Yes, Master,” she replied, loudly enough for people to hear as they passed by.
Da
nte had already left them and headed to the bar. Tonight, it was about her and Michael. She couldn’t deny that Michael still tied her up in knots. But it was more that she didn’t know how he felt. He wanted to keep her past the time limit, yet she wasn’t certain of his affections, and whether he was doing it because he cared for her, or if he just enjoyed screwing her.
She set the thought aside and compartmentalized it. There would be time later—once they figured out who was leaking information to his board, which board member had it out for Michael, and whom in his private club they were using to glean that information. And if it came down to it, Sabrina would be the one to leave. It hurt her heart to consider it even for a second. But she wouldn’t be the one to cause a rift between her two men. She refused to be the reason.
The couch Michael selected had a few other couples seated near them, with the sofas set out in a U formation. Michael took the time and made introductions. “Sabrina, this is Master Ram and his wife Sadie, Master Graham and his wife Phoebe, and Master Quinten with his wife Becca. This is my Sabrina.”
Master Ram, with his tousled, dirty blond hair and stubble lining his jaw, had his arm around Sadie. He dwarfed the petite blond in her black spandex dress. Master Graham held his wife’s hand, their fingers laced together, with her willowy form situated on his lap. And then there was Master Quinten, with short black hair, with a busty, auburn-haired woman. He had his arm covetously around her slim waist. Each couple was a unit, and their love for each other made Sabrina ache. It was what she wanted, with both her guys.
“Hello. It’s nice to meet you,” Sabrina said, feeling marginally better about her clothing—or lack thereof—since all the women were dressed in a similar fashion.
Quinten leaned forward and, in a low voice, said, “I know who has been leaking info. The eight of us need to meet tomorrow morning and formulate a plan.”
With his arm around her shoulders, Michael tensed at Sabrina’s, side. “Do you, now? Not here. I don’t want to discuss the matter in the club. We need the founders to meet at my place tomorrow. Say ten in the morning?”
“I can be there,” Ram agreed with a nod.
“Me as well,” Graham added.
“Sir, I would be happy to prepare brunch for you and the rest of the Masters,” Sabrina stated, hoping to ease the tension a bit.
Michael acknowledged her with a warm smile. “That would be much appreciated, babe.”
“I’d be happy to contribute, send some muffins along too,” Phoebe added.
“Then it’s settled. We only stopped in to see you and get this set up. I’ll send out an SOS email to the rest of the gang from my room upstairs,” Quinten said, rising, pulling Becca up with him.
“We’re not staying. I swear, the man drags me out, makes me dress like a hooker, and we’re here for ten minutes,” Becca said sarcastically.
Quinten slanted his wife a steely glance. “Unless you plan on fucking me in front of your brother, babe, you might want to change your tone.”
Becca rolled her eyes, lifted her hand, and saluted him. “Sir, yes, Sir.”
“I’d be fine if you wanted to tan her hide right here. With that mouth, she deserves it,” Ram commented, with disapproval directed at Becca.
“He won’t, because he tends to screw me senseless after,” Becca said with a knowing smirk at her husband.
“You understand you are not going to be able to sit comfortably for the rest of the week,” Quinten murmured darkly.
Becca snorted. “So what’s new? It was nice meeting you, Sabrina. The next time we have a girls’ day with all the subs, you should come. It’s where we talk about these guys and how to manage them without squashing their manly Dom egos.”
Sabrina laughed, and ended up getting a sharp look from Michael that she ignored. “I would love that. Just let me know when.”
Becca waved with a cheeky grin as Quinten towed her away toward the elevator.
Ram shook his head. “I apologize for my sister’s behavior, Sabrina. I know that you’re new, but that’s not how a submissive is supposed to act.”
His wife Sadie snorted and shook her head. Ram turned his head and quirked a brow at her. “Something you would like to add, babe?”
“Yeah, don’t scare her away. You’re going to make her think all Doms think about is corporal punishment.”
“And who says we don’t?” Ram stated, his face stern.
“He’s just put out since he can’t use his normal methods of punishment for the next seven months,” Sadie explained with a laugh.
“You’re expecting? Congratulations are in order then,” Michael replied.
“We are, this December,” Ram said, his features softening. “I can still discipline you, babe. I just have to be more creative.”
Phoebe and Graham exchanged a look. Graham said, “Well, we’ve been finding it interesting ourselves, but only have until November.”
“You both as well?” Michael said, and Sabrina heard the yearning in his voice. Michael wanted a kid. If he only realized that all he had to do was ask her, and she would toss out her birth control in a heartbeat.
“Yes, we’re only telling our friends for now,” Phoebe explained.
“We’ll have to talk babies, Phoebe. There’s so much to learn. We should do lunch next week sometime,” Sadie said.
“Absolutely. You should come to the bed and breakfast one day,” Phoebe offered, and the two mommas-to-be shared excited grins.
Dante appeared beside Sabrina and sat on the couch arm. “What’s this I hear about babies?”
Michael explained, “Ram and Sadie are expecting in December. Phoebe and Graham in November.”
“Way to go. Happy for you.” Dante lowered his voice. “And I hear we have the culprit, and are meeting tomorrow?”
“Yes, we are.”
“Might as well do your scene, if you’ve a mind to still do so. May not need to now,” Dante said with a shrug.
“Well, I did get all dressed up,” Sabrina offered.
The corners of Michael’s lips twitched. “That you did. Congratulations to you both. We’ll have a celebration at the mansion for both sets of soon-to-be parents, say July fourth, and make it PG so you can bring the kids, Ram. As for me, right now I’m going to show our sub what it’s like to scene before a crowd.”
Michael rose and held out his hand for Sabrina. She could say no. Cry off for another night. But she knew it would be the coward’s way out. Besides, what better way to show Michael that she loved him than by gifting him the ultimate submission?
She placed her hand in his and said to the remaining group, “It was nice to meet you all.”
“I’ll get your number from Dante and give you a call,” Sadie replied.
“Looking forward to it,” Sabrina responded. It had been so long since she had had girlfriends to talk to, that the open invitation and acceptance by this group of subs pleased her to no end.
“You’ll do great, love. And then we’ll reward you with lots of orgasms upstairs,” Dante murmured with a wink.
She nodded as Michael led her to the empty scene area. And she hoped that she wouldn’t let him down.
Michael drew Sabrina over to the padded bench. “Eyes on me. As we discussed earlier, I want you to disrobe, and then I want you up on this bench.”
“Yes, Master,” she whispered, and he could feel her fear radiating off her.
He cupped her chin and lifted her face. Searching her eyes, he lowered his mouth and took her lips in a heated exchange. She moaned in the back of her throat but she kissed him back, unmindful of the club goers.
She really was the most giving woman. Anything he or Dante asked for, she gave. She was passionate, sweet, with a desperate need to please, and a desire to be with them past the agreed upon time. Michael had tender feelings for her. But things had been so chaotic, and there was the simple fact that it had begun as a business transaction where the lines had been blurred.
Perhaps once they were beyond the sit
uation with his board, he would be able to focus on Sabrina and what it was he did feel for her.
He kissed her until she sighed against him, and he felt that moment of her surrender.
Lifting his mouth, he thrilled at the way her gaze was filled with desire, and the way she looked at him, like he was her own personal superhero. It puffed up his pride a bit. And all his protective urges, the need to shelter her, provide for her, rushed to the forefront.
No matter where this relationship was headed, he would ensure she was cared for, for the rest of her life.
“As much as I love the outfit, I love seeing you in nothing but your skin, too.”
“Yes, Sir.” She disrobed while he went and grabbed a flogger from the nearby armoire.
Sabrina removed everything but their cuffs and collar, and Michael had rarely seen such a lovely sight. He shot a glance at Dante, who was now reclining on the couch, facing their scene area, and spied the possessiveness on his features, and even… son of a bitch, Dante was in love with her. Not just falling, or considering loving her, but completely gone over the edge in love with her. Why had he not shared that bit of information with Michael?
Maybe it was because Michael was being a daft prick, who had been so immersed in his own problems that he hadn’t seen his best friend do the full swan dive into love with Sabrina. Yes, they had argued over her, and he had worried that Dante was living in a fantasy instead of reality where the relationship was concerned. But that wasn’t the case at all.
They’d had relationships with other submissives over the years, but not once had Dante fallen for them. He’d enjoyed them, and gone to great lengths to care for them because of what happened to his mom all those years ago. But never had Dante loved one of them before—not even Lisa, whom he had told himself that he loved, but had in truth only loved the idea of her.
And Dante was letting Michael be the first to scene with her at their club.
Michael didn’t deserve them, either of them. But he was going to appreciate them more, starting now. He rolled up his sleeves, and helped Sabrina onto the bench. Then he set about securing her to it, attaching her cuffs in the front, and then putting her ankles in the leather straps.