“I was scared,” she managed. “You scare me. I can’t think when you touch me, and I have no control, and it’s too much like what happened...before.”
“You trusted him, and he betrayed you. Now you aren’t sure if you can trust anyone.”
That he could understand so well was a gift she didn’t deserve.
His thumb stroked her cheek gently. “Little rabbit, I can understand your worries. And we, you and I, will work through them. But I cannot condone how you avoided talking to me.”
He was going to hurt her. She knew it and didn’t know if she could take it. He wouldn’t be like the Dom earlier. The pain from being paddled had been intense, but this muscular man could do so, so much worse.
“I’ll try to...” She felt her lips quiver, firmed them immediately, and closed her eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears. Crying only made punishments worse.
“Look at me, sugar.” She lifted her eyes, and he wiped away the tear that spilled over. “I could tell you what I do and don’t do, but you wouldn’t believe a word I said. So let’s get this over with.” Still sitting, he pushed her to her feet. “Strip.”
She glanced at the spanking station and saw a Dom fastening his sub onto the bench. “But someone is already—”
“The only words that leave your mouth are, ‘Yes, Sir.’ Am I clear?”
“Yes, Sir.” She’d never stripped in the bar itself, only in a scene area. This felt all wrong. Totally humiliating even if the eyes on her were the same ones that would watch a scene. But it was playacting there, not real. Out here was real.
Master Nolan didn’t speak. Only his fingers tapping the arm of the couch showed that his patience might be limited.
She pressed her lips together to keep from saying anything and peeled off her dress, pathetically glad she hadn’t worn underwear. And there she stood, naked except for the thin black cuffs around her wrists.
His eyes ran up and down her body, and her breasts pebbled under his warm gaze. How could he rouse her with a look when others couldn’t with hands and mouths and cocks?
“You have a nice little body,” he said after far too long a pause. He rose and held out his hand. “Come then.”
Adding to her confusion, he led her away from the stations along the wall. At the end of the long oval bar, he stopped. “Cullen, I have a decoration for your bar. And can you spare a towel?”
The bartender barked out a laugh and tossed him a clean towel. “The scenery here has been boring. Go ahead.”
Bar decoration? Beth’s eyes widened, and her stomach clenched. She took a step back. He wouldn’t.
Flipping the towel open on the bar top, Master Nolan picked her up and set her on the bar.
“Sir. No, this—”
He shot her a cold look, and she bit back further protests, although more and more welled up inside her as she became aware of people watching, of their grins and murmured comments. Her cheeks flushed hot.
Sir stepped back and considered her for a moment. “Close, but not quite right. I’ve always liked the silhouettes on truckers’ mud flaps. Lean back onto your hands.” Setting a hand between her breasts, he pushed her back until her weight was on her arms.
Her breasts jutted upward, and he ran a hand over them. A jolt, then embarrassment ran through her at his casual touch. He treated her like a toy.
“Nolan, I prefer that my decorations face me,” Cullen yelled from down the bar.
Sir grunted. “Well, that’s reasonable. I wouldn’t want to annoy the bartender.” Lifting her slightly, he spun her around. Now her legs, rather than dangling off the end of the bar, lay on the bar top. He bent her knees and set her feet widely apart, exposing her pussy to every person sitting at the bar. She closed her eyes, and a tremor ran through her. She’d almost, almost rather have been whipped.
Master Raoul walked by, slowing to look at her, then Nolan. “I don’t suppose you’re serving appetizers, are you?”
“Sorry. I missed supper, so I’m going to keep this little dish for myself.”
Beth sighed in relief, then choked when Sir lowered his head to suck on the breast closest to him. She started to sit up, and he turned his head, just enough to look at her, his lips an inch from her breast, his breath warm on her wet nipple. “Do not move at all. Not one inch.”
Her fingers curled as she stilled. She kept her body stiff and unmoving as he licked her nipple and circled it with his tongue. Each stroke of his wet tongue sent sensation scorching through her, and moisture trickled down the folds of her pussy. Oh, God.
“Need your second beer, Nolan?” Cullen called as he concocted a drink.
Sir lifted his head. “That would go down well.” He turned and leaned against the bar, his elbow resting lightly on her hip. Almost carelessly, he stroked her inner thigh as he started talking to the man next to him.
The man said he was a fairly new club member... He’d joined with his wife... Beth lost track of the conversation as Sir’s warm hand moved over her leg, her waist, fingering the tender crease where her thigh met her hip.
Despite being naked, she felt as if heat waves were rising from her skin. When Sir laid his hand on the inside of her thigh and brushed his knuckles against the curls of her pussy, all Beth could do was close her eyes. Don’t move. Don’t move.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Nolan.”
Beth opened her eyes to see the man shake hands with Sir. The man glanced at Beth and the position of Sir’s hand. His face colored slightly before he hurried off.
Beth knew her face was probably just as red. Sir glanced back at her, his eyes crinkling. His fingers brushed against the swollen lips of her pussy, yanking her attention to his touch as if he’d pulled her on a leash. As his knuckles trailed back and forth, he watched her struggles to stay still, to breathe normally.
Cullen arrived with Sir’s beer. “Here you go, Nolan. Sorry about the wait.”
“No problem.” Sir took the beer from Cullen and then looked at Beth. His lips curved into the faintest of smiles, and she tensed. What was he—
He splashed some beer onto her breasts. She jerked as the icy liquid hit. Her nipples tightened into hard buds.
Arms resting on the bar, Master Nolan slowly licked the drops away, laving her nipples until she almost whimpered. His tongue followed the trail of cold beer to where it pooled in her belly button. He lapped it up like a dog. After a minute, he returned to lick one nipple lightly, then he bit down gently, repeating it over and over until fire shot from her breast to her clit, until she had to lock her teeth over a moan. Then he switched to the other breast.
“Nolan, I’ve been hoping you’d be here.”
Sir straightened as a hefty Domme in biker clothes walked over. A short, voluptuous sub in a tight latex dress with breast and pussy cutouts trailed behind her.
“Good to see you, Olivia.” As he turned to talk with the woman, his big hand closed firmly over Beth’s ankle. The Domme gave Beth an amused look, then ignored her as she asked Sir about remodeling her house to add a dungeon room.
All Sir’s attention appeared to be on Olivia, except his hand kept inching higher up Beth’s leg. His fingers traced little circles on her inner thigh, spiraling ever higher until he touched her pussy. Even then, he never looked at her, just moved enough to rest his forearm on her lower stomach. His fingers dangled right over her pussy. His dark bronze arm was a startling contrast to her pale skin, his hand so wide it covered her mound completely.
“How close are your neighbors?” he asked the Domme, even as his fingers curled, stroking through Beth’s betrayingly wet folds. Slowly, unpredictably, his fingers caressed her opening, then spread the dampness over her clit. Sensation sizzled through her nerves. Her folds and clit swelled, feeling too tight as if the skin couldn’t contain the blood rushing to the area.
He touched her clit again, rubbed briefly, and then dipped into her opening.
Her breath strangled in her throat. She tried to ignore what he was doing, tried to st
op the need rising within her. Dammit, why now? Any other Dom and she’d have been fine, not even slightly aroused.
This Dom... He didn’t seem to care about her response, wasn’t even looking at her. His wet finger traced over the sensitive edge between her clit and its hood, stroking it, over and over. Pressure built within her, the exquisite sensations bringing her almost to the peak. Almost. His conversation with the Domme buzzed in her ears, only the slide of his fingers was real. If he’d just touch her... She bit her lips. Her hips tilted only the slightest amount.
He slapped her thigh. The sharp sting stabbed through her like an electric current. “Stay still, sub.”
The Domme laughed, thanked him for his advice, and strolled away. Her sub gave Beth a sympathetic look before following.
Sir turned, his dark eyes cool as his gaze ran over Beth. She held perfectly still, tried to control her breathing, pleading with her eyes, Let me down, let me down.
He took a sip of his beer, another, started to set the bottle down, and stopped. He studied her again...and then he poured his cold beer right onto her overheated, sensitive clit. She gasped audibly, her legs jerking upward.
“Don’t move, sub.” She received another stinging slap onto her thigh that somehow only increased her need.
Her whole body was shaking now, her clit throbbing with need. Yet she was horrified when he lifted the leg closest to him and set her ankle onto his shoulder. He wouldn’t... No, no, no!
He scooted her hips toward him, bent, and started lapping the beer from her pussy. The first stroke of his tongue sent a blaze streaking through her; the next touch coiled the tension inside her higher. She heard her fingernails scratching the bar top. She tried to stay still and not move as his tongue circled her clit, the hood, the side, wiggling underneath, the other side, around and around. The tissue grew so engorged, so sensitive that every slide stopped her breath, shooting her closer and closer. The room faded. All she could feel was his tongue stroking over her, his unyielding grip on her leg.
Suddenly he thrust a rough finger into her, hard and fast, the invasion shocking. Overwhelming. Everything stretched and burst at once, exploding outward in waves of pleasure. She bucked against his face, her insides spasming around the thrusting finger. Somehow she managed to smother her scream so only muffled cries escaped.
Her arms shook, almost giving out. Master Nolan lifted his head, amusement flickering in his black eyes as he looked at her. He replaced her foot on the bar and adjusted her legs to the previous position. He patted her thigh, ignored her labored breathing, and said, “Don’t move, pet.”
Cullen walked over, shaking his head. “You know, if you didn’t want to drink from the bottle, I would have brought you a glass.”
Sir chuckled. “I like my way better.” He rested his forearm back on her stomach, his fingers trailing down against her pussy, and she barely suppressed a moan. Not again, please, not again.
Petal-soft touches danced over her clit, and her body sprang back to awareness.
“You know only a barbarian would refuse to use a glass.” The bartender glanced over Sir’s shoulder and grinned. “Like my new bar ornament, Z?”
Oh, dear sweet God. Beth stiffened, her humiliation complete as Master Z walked around Sir.
He turned and looked at her, his silver gaze mildly interested. “Very pretty, Cullen.” Looking at Sir with a faint smile, he lifted a brow. “I do believe I provide several well-equipped stations for scenes.”
Master Nolan patted her mound, making her jump. “I would never do a scene at the bar, Z. This was punishment.”
“Indeed.” Master Z tilted his head. “Did I not hear scenelike noises coming from this area?”
“Well, you know how I hate to drink from the bottle.” From the side, she could see Sir’s eyes crinkle. His finger started stroking through her wetness, relentlessly rubbing against her clit. As the inescapable pleasure surged through her, the muscles in her legs tensed, quivering uncontrollably as she strove not to move.
Sir continued. “Cullen didn’t give me a glass so I used what was available.”
“Don’t be blaming me, you bastard,” Cullen said.
“Well, that explains it.” Eyes lit with laughter, Master Z glanced at Beth, at where Sir’s hand lay, and he coughed. Another surge of heat ran through Beth, this time from pure embarrassment. “I do approve of punishment though. And I’ve noticed the submissives in the club are becoming extremely uppity.”
Cullen tapped his fingers on the bar. “That’s a serious problem. Are you planning a solution?”
“I am.” Z smiled slowly. “Some sales reps have been after me to let them demo their equipment. I’ve decided to have a machine day.”
Machine? Beth tried to ignore the insistent movement of Nolan’s fingers. What kind of machines would a BDSM club use? Winches?
“Machines?” Cullen asked. “You lost me.”
“Fucking machines, Cullen.” Master Z’s gaze drifted over Beth. “I intend, by the end of that evening, there won’t be a sub able to walk.”
Cullen barked a laugh.
Nolan chuckled, turning to run an assessing gaze over Beth, one that made her stomach knot. “Now that might be fun. I think she likes objects being inserted here and there.” His finger slid into her, and she gasped, her senses flaring.
“Switching to another subject,” Z said. “I plan to remodel upstairs and add another office, perhaps change the kitchen. Can you come by sometime and give me an estimate?”
“How about Tuesday? Maybe around four or so?”
“That will work well.”
As Master Z strolled away, Sir glanced at Cullen. “All that talking left me dry.” He picked up the beer bottle, and Beth could hear the swish of remaining liquid. He smiled at her.
Not again. Losing control on top of the bar, having no... “Please, Sir,” she whispered, and her voice trembled. “No. Please, Master.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Would you prefer to do this elsewhere? Upstairs?”
The private rooms. Alone with a Dom who could do anything. The rooms might not be monitored. Her stomach twisted.
“Not yet, I see.” Sir contemplated her for a minute, his fingers tapping her clit, never letting the excitement die. “You know, there is another bed in this place.”
She frowned, trying to think of where he meant.
“Hand me my toy bag, would you, Cullen?”
The bartender pulled a black bag from the shelves under the bar. “Sure you wouldn’t rather stay here? She sure is a pretty decoration.”
“I have a feeling she’ll be back someday.” After slinging the bag over his right shoulder, Sir plucked Beth off the bar and threw her over his other shoulder. She let out a startled yip, appalled to find herself head down, secured by his hands on her bare thighs.
A chorus of complaints came from the people around the bar.
“Hey, put her back.”
“Cullen, don’t let him walk away with your ornament.”
“It was just getting interesting.”
Her head spun as Sir carried her through the room. Just as she began to get her bearings, she felt one of his hands edge between her legs and rub against her pussy lips. Incredulity filled her as he walked through the crowd, her ass in the air and his fingers in her crotch. She wiggled, kicked a little. Maybe he’d put her down—at least he’d have to move his hand.
He turned his head and nipped her thigh, the sharp pain streaking straight to her clit. “Stay still,” he growled.
Chapter Six
When his little sub froze on his shoulder, Nolan smiled and slid his finger another inch into the tightness between her legs. She squirmed again, this time uncontrollably. The tantalizing scent of her arousal mingled with her light fragrance of strawberries. He nodded at the club members he knew and smiled at Mistress Anne who was followed by her sweat-streaked, exhausted...glowing...sub.
At the back of the club, he went down the long hallway. The windows on the right sho
wed the medical room where some lucky male sub was getting an enema. Then the dungeon. Nolan turned left and into the playroom.
The flickering sconces in the playroom illumined dark red walls covered with fancy ironwork. A very, very big bed covered with black satin filled the entire room leaving only two feet of walking room around the edges. Ropes and chains with cuffs were attached to the bed frame sides and dangled from the iron headboard and footboard. The dark music of Depeche Mode drowned out the sounds of the club. Two other couples were using the room and had apparently migrated together to make one happy foursome.
Nolan chose an empty corner near the head of the bed and dropped the little rabbit onto her back.
She sat up, looked around, and realized where they were. Some of the worry faded from her eyes, but the confusion remained. Apparently he’d found another place she hadn’t used before. Good enough.
“Wrists, please,” he said, holding his hand out. She set her wrists in them without a pause, a well-trained sub. He flattened her on her back and secured her cuffs to the headboard. Resting a hip on the bed, he enjoyed the sight of her in the dim light of the room. Big turquoise eyes. Red hair spilling out over the black satin cover. Her breasts had no sag, sitting up nicely on her rib cage. He slowly ran a hand over her erect nipples, watched them peak. Her arms and legs were slender, but muscles rippled under the soft female padding. Her ribs showed, her stomach concave with no fat there at all. She could use a few more pounds on her.
The hair of her pussy glinted a pretty red-brown that matched the freckles over her shoulders and cheeks. Of course, he preferred bare...something he’d deal with at a later time.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her nervousness overcoming her discipline.
He smiled. A sub shouldn’t be terrified, but a little anxiety was good. He ran a finger between her pretty breasts down the center of her stomach. “Just enjoying the view, sugar. I like to look at you.”
She blushed, the compliment confusing her more than anything he’d done yet.
He leaned down and pleased himself by taking her lips, easing into a demanding kiss. She tasted of orange juice with her own sweetness underneath. He pulled back and ran his finger over her wet lips. “I intend to put that mouth to a different use one of these days. Will that be a problem?”
Seduction in the Sun: Adult Romance Box Set (9 Sizzling Tales with BBW, Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males) Page 77