Reclaimed in Ecstasy

by Nina Pierce

  “Me, I’m sure I initiated it.”

  “Are you? Had you ever done anything like that together during office hours before?”

  “It wasn’t during office hours, we were both working late and…”

  She watched the understanding dawn.

  “Did you even know your father was meeting a client after hours?” she asked.

  “Well, no, but…”

  “Did you keep seeing her after that night?”

  He laughed, a bitter sound that ripped at her heart. “Of course not. I’d just lost her a very good job and her father kicked her out of the family mansion.”

  “She come to live with you?

  “Moved in with an old boyfriend.”

  “She find a new job?”

  “Got one a couple months later with the firm that got her father’s contracts. She…”

  He looked at her, his mouth working, but no words coming out. Sara stepped closer, lifting her eyebrows and nodding, waiting him out.

  “You don’t think…” He plowed his fingers through his hair. “No, she wouldn’t…”

  “I’m just saying. Women sometimes have their own agendas and sometimes we use a man to accomplish them.” Sara leaned into him, her breasts pressed against his warm biceps. “Derek, I suspect if you look at the circumstances, I mean really go over every detail of how she ended up in your office in a compromising situation just coincidentally as her father saunters through the door, you’re going to discover it doesn’t quite add up.” She smiled. “We submissives aren’t blind to the fact of just how much power we wield over our Masters.”

  She dropped to her knees in front him, her wrists clasped behind her back. “And sometimes we just can’t help ourselves when the attraction burns in our hearts.” With her back ramrod straight and her shoulders thrown back, her naked breasts—that ached for Derek’s hands—were prominently displayed. “I humbly ask my Master to take me to the dungeon at the Masters’ lodge and use me for your pleasure.” She kept her chin up, but her gaze locked on Derek’s boots. Her lungs burned with the nervous breath she held.

  She was sure her heart would never survive his rejection.

  Chapter Seven

  Derek walked in front of Sara, his heavy biker boots rapping out a steady tempo as they approached the Masters’ lodge. It was amazing he could even hear the beat over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. If someone had told him this is where he’d end the evening he would have laughed in their face. Yet here he was, lifting the erotic brass knocker on the wooden door, his blood boiling with the anticipation of having Sara bound and at the mercy of his pleasure.

  Despite the blue jeans and button-down shirt Derek wore, his natural Dom persona had slipped into place the moment Sara dropped to her knees. He had only this night with her, and now that he’d made the decision to go through with it, he had every intention of making sure she would never forget him.

  Impatience had him lifting the knocker again, but the heavy wooden door swung open before he could let it fall.

  “I wasn’t sure how much longer to wait for you two.” Ethan stepped aside, allowing Derek and Sara entry into the spacious foyer. Sensual black marble statues sat in well-lit alcoves, surrounded by large potted plants, their thick foliage a stark contrast to the white walls and cathedral ceiling hanging with an elegant crystal chandelier. “The invitation read eight, my friends. Thirty minutes is considered fashionably late.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “But an hour certainly makes a statement, doesn’t it?”

  “I always find it best not to carry excess baggage into the dungeon,” said Derek.

  “A wise decision.” Ethan turned to Sara, who stood mutely behind Derek. “You look ravishing tonight, Sara.”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  Though Ethan and Sara were no more than friends, the hot spike of jealousy at the Dom’s frank appraisal and Sara’s flushed cheeks took Derek by surprise. He’d thought the afternoon had been about helping Sara. Obviously this alluring submissive had revived something in him he hadn’t realized had been lying dormant all these months.

  “I’m truly sorry about the scene at the bungalow. I—”

  “Forget it, man.” Derek took the hand Ethan offered and pulled him into a fierce hug. “When a woman’s involved, boys sulk, men react and Dom’s protect.”

  “Amen to that.” Ethan laughed and squeezed his shoulder. “Seriously, it seems Sara was the only one with her eyes wide open.”

  Color flooded Sara’s cheeks as her full lips curled in a smile that stole his breath.

  “Any submissive would count herself fortunate to have two Masters who cared so much,” she said.

  “I’m the lucky one, Sara.” Derek brushed his hand possessively down her braid.

  Ethan cleared his throat. “The others are already downstairs. Shall we join them?” He turned and walked down a long hallway to their left. Derek invited Sara to walk between them, her posture both confident and submissive—so different from the arrogant challenge she’d offered him last night or the apprehensive demeanor she’d displayed earlier in the afternoon.

  The hall they walked had recessed lighting on their right, highlighting more erotic statues in black marble, each depicting a stunning scene of Master and slave. Through the wall of windows on their left, the manicured lawn and colorful garden, illuminated by tasteful landscaping lights, stretched out to the edge of the pool they’d seen from the bridge. The water rippled tranquilly in the tropical breeze, the moon’s glow shimmering along its ebony surface. All these details his architect’s eye picked up in seconds even as the Dom in him kept a protective eye on Sara.

  Five hours ago she’d been coming undone in his arms. Three hours ago Derek had been sure he’d done her irreparable harm. Shit, an hour ago he’d been ready to say goodbye. Now, everything was changed. Their relationship had found solid ground, both of them needing what only the other could give. A symbiotic push and pull that went down to the very marrow of who they were—a Dom and his submissive.

  “Here we are.” Ethan raised his arm and stepped back, offering Derek his first glimpse of the Masters’ dungeon.

  The large room before him was a tasteful blending of modern architecture and old-world castle charm. The white walls had been accented with bricks and inlaid stone rising up to a vaulted ceiling that allowed Doms to suspend their submissives in elaborate systems of cages, pulleys and ropes. Wooden racks of floggers, whips and various tools were set back in recessed alcoves lit by decorative torch sconces that camouflaged modern lighting fixtures. Red leather couches for relaxing and viewing were interspersed with large pieces of bondage furniture, some of them already in use.

  “Please make yourself comfortable in my home.” Ethan left them, joining a small group watching a naked sub being artfully bound in ropes. Derek would like to see Sara bound and suspended and completely at his mercy, but he didn’t have that kind of patience at the moment.

  With his hand on her low back, Derek guided Sara into the room, pleased when several people stopped what they were doing to admire her, their eyes quietly seeking an invitation to join them. Derek had no intention of extending it. If he only had one last night with her, even in this public dungeon, this night would be about only them.

  He stopped in the center of the room, a simple bondage frame before them. “Sara, I intend to bind you and use your body for my pleasure tonight. Remove your corset and thong, but leave the jewelry and the stockings and heels. I rather like the way they show off those endless legs of yours.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Christ, Sara was a fucking wet dream in the flesh. Derek had all he could do to remain focused as blood pooled in his groin. “I’m going to find some equipment we both can enjoy. When I return, I want your clothes gone and you standing spread eagle, displayed for everyone to admire. I want the rest of the room drooling over my alluring submissive.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Derek walked away, adrenaline kicking up his hea
rt rate. Never had he felt so much riding on a scene. He thought Sara’s suspicions may be right about the situation in his office. Though he still held some culpability, it was perfectly plausible that the woman had manipulated the circumstances. As Sara pointed out, too many things had come together and created the perfect storm of consequences. He would never know if the woman had intended for him to lose his job, but over the last year and a half, Derek had realized his business philosophy was much different from his father’s and he could now take his architect business into a greener, more environmentally friendly future.

  And Sara. He turned to admire her just as the corset fell away, his heart aching that her flawless body would belong to another Master after tonight. Hell, he didn’t even know where she lived. They could be in opposite corners of the continent, for all he knew. And long-distance relationships, especially one as unique as theirs, would be difficult to nurture. He figured he should be grateful she’d allowed him into her heart long enough to help her heal.

  Sara spread her legs and lifted her arms above her head, her ankles and palms resting on the frame. He’d done a quick calculation as he’d stewed in the club of the years she’d spent caring for her deceased parents, added the years of nursing school and her marriage and figured she was somewhere in her mid-thirties. Not even a decade between them.

  With her petite stature, perky breasts and flat stomach, she had the body of someone in her late twenties. No one would know there was even a difference in their ages. He shook the thought away. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but this moment and the woman who so willingly offered herself to him.

  Stunning. Alluring. Gorgeous. Enticing. Bewitching.

  Sara was certainly all that and more. He would spend hours in the quiet nights of his apartment finding adjectives to describe her heart-stopping beauty. Beautiful would never again be part of his vocabulary.

  He wondered after this night, if it would even matter.

  He turned back to the wall of equipment, his heart racing.

  Sounds of bliss came from every corner of the room as slaves submitted to their Masters and pain and pleasure were offered in equal measure.

  In her peripheral vision, Sara could see two Mistresses on her right sitting on a couch chatting, a male sub buried in each of their laps. She suspected the squeaky turn of a pulley and quiet grunts behind her meant they were suspending the woman who’d been lying naked in the corner of the room, lengths of ropes laid out on the floor around her. Two St. Andrew’s Crosses leaned against each other to her left, two male submissives, bound at wrists and ankles, facing one another, their Masters each wielding a bullwhip that snapped wickedly each time they hit the men’s backs.

  But none of that held any appeal. There was only one man who’d captured her attention. And it took all her training not to lift her head and search for her Master. Derek had been gone longer than it took to walk across the room and gather the tools he would use on her. Perhaps he’d joined the group binding the woman behind her. Rope work was an art many Doms eagerly sought to learn. There was nothing submissives coveted more than leaving a dungeon proudly wearing the marks of their Master.

  She’d purposefully pulled her hair back, blatantly displaying Derek’s bite marks on her shoulder. Though she wore the collar of a submissive, she really had no desire to be dominated by anyone but the man who’d freed her heart—ever again.

  Sara wasn’t sure when she’d come to that realization. But if Derek was willing, she’d like to continue seeing him after this weekend was over.

  “Do you have any idea how everyone is admiring you?”

  Her Master’s velvet voice slid over her ear, his heated breath feathering across her cheek. He pressed close, the clean scent of him filling her nose. With her eyes cast down, she could see that he’d stripped off his shirt and boots, the warmth of his body surrounding her, centering her in the presence of him.

  “Every Master and Mistress in this room wants to dominate you.” He gently took her hands from the frame and snugged a leather cuff around each wrist. “Every submissive is hoping they will be asked to grovel at your feet.” He lifted them above her head, threading a chain through a loop between the cuffs. “But they can’t have you. Tonight you belong to only me.” He pulled on the chain, stretching her hands up high until she was slightly off balance on her toes. “What’s your safe word, Sara?”

  “I don’t need one, Master.”

  His hands slid down the inside of her arms, raising gooseflesh. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you.” He pinched her nipples, rolling them between his fingers, the pain drawing a sigh of pleasure from her lips.

  “I’m safe with you. I don’t need one. There’s nothing you could do to me that would make me say it. I trust you implicitly, Master.”

  His finger came up under her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his. Sara’s stomach clenched with hope at what she saw reflected in his eyes. Hunger and passion had dilated his pupils, but a longing deep and raw sparked in the emerald pools of them. Could it be possible he wanted more beyond this night?

  “Sara, you can’t trust that a Master will know when to stop.”

  “I’m not going to be with another Master. I’m going to be with you. You understand me like no one else ever has. Ever.”

  “How have I been so lucky to find you?” His hands snaked around her neck, his lips brushing hers without demand. Still, she quivered under his barely contained power. His tongue ran along her bottom lip, seeking entrance. When Sara complied, the familiar taste of him burst on her tongue. With a softness that melted her heart, his mouth made love to hers. Derek’s tongue delved in, dancing with hers in breath-stealing sensations of satin and heat. His hands fisted in her hair, pulling at the roots, her body responding to his desperation. Of their own accord, her hips tilted forward, her belly rubbing his growing erection, her breasts squashed against the solid wall of his chest.

  He pulled from her, his forehead pressed to hers, his heavy breaths buffeting her mouth. “I don’t deserve you.” Derek’s coarse words sounded as if they’d been dragged over sandpaper.

  “No, it’s me who’s won the Dom lottery.” Sara smiled, willing for the first time in years to bear open her heart, praying she hadn’t misread her Master. “I’m a sexual submissive. It’s who I am in the dungeon. It’s how I find my pleasure. But outside these walls, I’m an independent woman. I wasn’t sure I’d find someone who understood the difference. You do.”

  “God, you’re everything I didn’t know I was searching for and now that I’ve found you, I don’t want this to be the last time for us. I don’t want to leave here and never see you again, Sara.”

  “Planes fly in and out of Boston every day.”

  Derek’s head came up, his eyes searching her face. “Boston? You’re from Boston?”

  She nodded, her hope turning to confusion when Derek’s rich laugh rolled over her. He shot a look over her shoulder, and she wanted to turn and see what he found so humorous. But even in this relaxed conversation, Sara was still a submissive waiting for her Master’s commands.

  “My Italian grandmother has nothing on Ethan Jacob’s matchmaking skills.” Derek’s hands bracketed her cheeks, the smile splitting his face reached up to spark in his eyes. “I’m an architect in Boston, Sara. Ethan set us both up this weekend. There’s more of this if we want it.”

  She’d kill Ethan if she weren’t so happy. The man standing before her, with his heart shimmering in his hungry eyes, was devouring her with every sweep of his gaze over her body. “Just say the word, Master.”

  And just like that they found their rhythm.

  Derek didn’t bother with words—he simply let his actions speak for him. He slipped the ring off her nipple, bending to suck the tender flesh into the wet heat of his mouth, reveling in the now familiar taste of her skin. He removed the other ring with his hand, the chain dangling down to tickle her belly. Teeth grazed the sensitive pearl, her gasp of pleasure feeding his own greedy libido.


  Sara’s head fell back, her body bowing toward him and pressing her breasts against his face, urging him to take more. Derek feasted, his teeth and tongue alternately biting and sucking, dancing between the fleshy mounds. Her breath rasped from her chest.

  Derek owed her this. In the middle of the dungeon with the tangy odor of leather hanging in the air and the snap of whips behind him, he wanted Sara to feel the tenderness of his touch. To know she could find pleasure without having to please someone else. For the first time in a very long time, Derek wanted to give without asking anything in return. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he understood that’s what Ethan had wanted him to learn this weekend. Sometimes having the power meant letting go of selfishness to give without the thought of anything in return. His cock ached with need, but the pain was nothing compared to his raw desire to please Sara.

  He dropped to his knees, pressing kisses along the satin skin of her belly. His hands pushed up under the black garter belt, her stomach quivering beneath his fingers. Derek’s tongue circled her navel, smiling at her gasp of pleasure as he snapped one of the garters with his teeth. He kissed lower, drowning in the perfumed taste of her velvet flesh.

  She tensed beneath his hands as if just now understanding what he intended.

  “Master, no I—”

  “Sara.” Her name dragged out of his tight throat. He looked up into the confusion in her eyes. The denial in the shake of her head. “It’s what I want. Would you deny me?”

  “I would happily please you. But this—”

  He lifted her leg, setting it on his shoulder. “This is what pleases me.” Opened before him, her scent filled his nostrils, heating his blood. She had no idea the power she held over him.

  Placing open-mouthed kisses along the top the stocking, he kissed a path slowly up her milky thigh toward her core. He pulled her silken folds into his mouth, his tongue flicking the tender flesh. He was rewarded with a gasp as she lifted her hips and opened wider for him. His fingers dug into her ass as he trailed a leisurely path the length of her cleft and back again, drinking in the salty tang of her arousal. No submissive, trembling at his commands, had ever tasted so sweet.