Mastered: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender

by Opal Carew

  “What I’m going to tell you to do will push the boundaries of our friendship and our new relationship. Do you trust me?”

  For a second her brain got stuck on the words “tell you to do”.

  Burton Khrys? Alpha boss to her alpha bitch. A different animal. Primal. Earthy. He seriously flipped her subby switch. So instead of calling him on his “tells” rather than “asks”, Solie answered his question.

  “Yes, I trust you.”

  “Do you believe that I’d never do anything to harm you?”

  She took a sip of lemon water. It was actually pretty refreshing. Good call on his part. Another swallow, then she said, “Burt, I trust you and I agree to whatever it is you’re going to ask me to do.” She’d deliberately said ask instead of tell and then bit back a smile when he gave her the raised eyebrow and stern look. “You don’t have to keep asking me that. I meant it when I answered you the first time.”

  “You giving me attitude, Sols?”

  “Nope. I’m just sayin’.” Besides, every woman had to push her boundaries every now and again. His fingers still stroked her palm, stoking a fire low in her belly that trickled clear down to her toes.

  “Do we need to negotiate, woman?”

  “Nope. Bring it.”

  Oh, she was really feeling her Wheaties just now, but she knew she wouldn’t regret it. From the stern set of his jaw, it appeared that nice Burton—oxymoron—was gone and Mr. Thuddy Paddle-hands was in attendance. Actually, now that she thought about, he was always present. Just not always quite so…

  “Well all-righty then.” He handed her a little black plastic bag. “Here you go. Off to the bathroom. You’ll know what to do with it. See you when you get back.”

  The bathroom? Oh my goodness.

  She rose on wobbly legs with a feeling of both excitement and impending doom. She must be crazy because the thought made her smile inside. When she opened the bag in the ladies room, boy was she glad she’d worn a pair of regular panties instead of a sexy thong or something.

  Back at the table, Solie sat gingerly and stared at the man across the table from her. Her yoga pants felt a bit more snug just now.

  “Give me the remote.” She wasn’t stupid enough to mistake it for anything other than what it was—an order.

  She handed it over, and watched closely as he fiddled with it in his lap, and then gave it right back to her.

  “Turn it on.”

  “But there are no batteries in it. I already che…” She flipped the switch and went still as the toy she’d inserted into her pussy fired up and her nerve endings went full tilt.

  So that’s what he was doing. Putting batteries in the thing.

  “Turn it half way up and let’s go get our food.”

  Then he winked and left her sitting there?

  Was he nucking futs? Go get food? They were at a Mongolian grill where she had to serve up her own veggies and meat, and then take it to the cook to grill it. How was she supposed to do that with a vibrator humming away in her pants?

  And Burton was over at the buffet filling his bowl. She sat and stared. The man didn’t even turn and look to see if she was coming.

  Oh, you’ll be coming, all right.

  Damn it, she could do this…quaking knees and all. Maybe it was her ego talking, but who knew? She wanted to pass this little test for two reasons—she wanted to prove she could keep her shit together while being totally distracted, and she wanted to please her guy.

  Solie sucked in a breath, rose from her seat, ever grateful she’d worn tennis shoes today, and hustled on over to the buffet.

  Just keep breathing, just keep breathing. You know, like the blue fish in that Nemo movie. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.

  By the time she made it back to her seat, her palms were sweaty and her hands were shaking about as fast as the little silver bullet stuffed up her pussy.

  Burt sat down, turned somewhat sideways in his chair and crossed his legs. Chopsticks in hand, he began to tuck in. “Turn it all the way up. Now talk to me.”

  Talk to him? Hell she could barely eat her…whatever it was she had in her bowl. Damn chopsticks hit the tabletop three times before he took mercy on her and handed her a fork.

  God, it felt like she had a sign propped on top of her head that said, “I have a vibrator stuffed up my hoo-haa. It’s flipped to high and I want to come SO bad!” On the other hand, she also wanted to kick Burton under the table for coming up with the idea, and then run for it. Maybe that would wipe the shit-eating grin off of his face…but somehow she doubted it.

  “Are you close to coming, Solie?” he asked, then popped a piece of grilled shrimp into his mouth. She wondered if it was delicious considering everything she had on her plate tasted the same—like out-of-reach-orgasm, if she had to give the flavor a name.

  Sitting back in her chair, Solie pushed away the food she’d been picking over, and gave up fighting the sensations coursing through her body.

  She could feel the hum everywhere. Her inner thighs quivered, ass cheeks clenched, knees locked tight. As her toes were prepared to curl inside her tennis shoes. Because an orgasm was coming. And it wasn’t sneaking up on her. No, it was chasing her, barreling down on her like a cargo train.

  Burt had said something. Had asked her a question.

  Her brain ran to catch up to the rest of her body. It was losing the race. Badly.

  “Solie, no coming without permission,” he whispered.

  “Huh?” She knew her eyes had begun to droop to half-mast. Didn’t care. At all.

  “Solie?” He reached under the table, grabbed her knee and squeezed hard.

  She jerked in her seat, but it wasn’t quite enough to bring her around. So he did it again.

  Three times must be the charm because finally she raised her gaze to meet his. Even her eyes felt…wobbly.

  “Baby, you look absolutely adorable and goofy.”

  Well that was enough to pull her back from the brink. Goofy? As if.

  He laughed out loud.

  Solie glanced around. Burton’s laugh had caught attention of a few diners. In fact, several women watched him as he watched her.

  A swift wind of anxiety kicked up and blew away a bit more of the fog in her horny brain. And just as quickly, she pushed back and chose to sink into the cocoon of need that Burton weaved around her with his words and wicked grin.

  After all, he wasn’t looking at those women, or returning their attention. This was her best friend, and he’d never been a cheater. He’d pledged himself to her a week ago. Had given her his unwavering friendship years ago. His toy hummed inside of her. And when they left, he’d be going with her.

  “Any plans for this afternoon, Sols?” he asked, chugging the last of his, uh, her cola.

  She shook her head. “Took the rest of the day off.”

  “Good. Leave your plate. By the time we get to TT, you’re going to beg me to come.”

  TT? He was taking her to Twilight Teahouse in the middle of the day? Well, they did have a light luncheon tea and menu. But they’d just eaten. Was he taking her to the upper floors? She knew they were available for play at this hour, but she’d just never taken the time to go up to Seattle at mid-day. The traffic alone was a total buzz kill.

  Would she have to sit through an agonizingly long bumper-to-bumper ride with a buzzing toy stuffed up her cooch? This gave a whole new meaning to crotch rocket. Ugh.

  Oh god, Solie wasn’t sure she could take it.

  Burton was on his feet staring at her with a receipt in his hand. When had he paid the bill? Holy hell, she really was drifting in and out of it, whatever “it” was. Just now she had no words.

  She grasped the hand extended to her.

  “Come along, my googly-eyed beauty.”

  She snorted, but didn’t even bother trying to talk. Googly eyed? Pffft.

  Her head said, “Fuck you.” But there was no denying that her body said, “Fuck me!”

  Chapter Six

&
nbsp; Solie handed over the remote when asked, then buckled herself in. She barely noticed the movement of the truck as they sped along, unless Burton hit a bump in the road. Those, she felt profoundly.

  God, her fingers trembled. Legs were restless. Skin felt stretched too tight. Pussy was on fire.

  Not being allowed to come was exquisite torture. The entire ride from their lunch spot to downtown Seattle, Solie experienced longing, rage and every emotion in between, courtesy of Burton and that fucking remote control.

  Every time she thought her mind was about to completely slip, Burton upped the ante.

  “A little added sensation, beautiful,” he drawled right before a thick fist delivered a thuddy blow to the thickest part of her thigh muscle. The impact of his hand combined with the sizzle of the nerve endings from the sensual sensation was, God, just delightful.

  She was going to come. Just couldn’t help it.

  Right before detonation, Burton dialed the vibrator down to the lowest setting and all the movement in her channel came to a halt.

  “Fuck!” She screamed. Yelled. Practically sobbed. Then he was slapping her thigh again, a lovely and calculated combination of thuddy and stingy blows.

  “I’ve been counting the days, Solie. My dick is about to burst thinking about that sweet pussy. Waking up to the scent of your arousal and not being able to have you has been killing me. So I want to drive you absolutely crazy. Promise I’ll join you there shortly after.”

  He steered his beast-of-a-truck with one hand, and the other was buried in her locs.

  “I love your hair. I love that I can pull on your dreads, yank them the way you like, and you won’t scream about how I mess up your hair-do.” Now his fingers drew circles on her scalp. Round and round. Up and down. Soft strokes followed by the easy scratch, scratch, scratch of short blunt nails.

  And then he pulled.

  Solie slammed her eyes shut, squeezed her thighs together and bit down on her lip to keep from yelling out her pleasure. He hadn’t told her to keep quiet. There was just a bit of stubborn in her that was still trying to hold it together.

  Finally, she gasped, “Oh God, please!”

  “Almost there, baby. Just hold on. Almost there, I promise.” Burt’s words were barely a whisper, yet the impact could be felt from eyebrows to baby toes.

  And she wasn’t the only one in sorry shape. Her man wasn’t immune to what he was doing to her. The evidence was in the barely-there hitch of his breath when she’d screamed. The dampness on his palm as he ran his free hand up and down her forearm.

  Knowing that his desire was being pushed and pummeled by hers only sent her trip higher.

  Crazy? Yes, that pretty much summed up where she was right now. She was in Loonyville. Tooty in the head. Brimming with bonkers. Coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs.

  By the time they pulled into the underground parking garage at Twilight Teahouse, Solie was damn near ready to pass out.

  Burton walked around to the passenger side and opened her door. Could her legs even support her weight? The better question was, did she care? Burton was big enough, and certainly strong enough to carry her without any problem so she decided to let him.

  He switched the vibrator back on for a split second, then turned it off again.

  Solie went still. Held her breath and waited to see if he would change his mind. Again. The last thing she needed was to think she was in the clear, step out of the car and then fall flat on her face when the sensation kicked back in.

  Hey, she’d made a rhyme. Such a talented lady at multi-tasking.

  Oh wait. Not a rhyme. Just her brain cells imploding.

  She laughed, cackled actually.

  “Need a second?” Burt asked as she swung her legs around so she could hop out of the car.

  A second passed. Then two. Solie made no move to actually get out.

  Burt grinned. “I’d offer to carry you, but even in your current sorry state—”

  “Sorry?” she hissed. “You put me in this state, by the way.”

  “—I still don’t think you’d let me carry you anywhere.”

  Well he had that right. It didn’t matter that she’d just told herself that she’d let him toss her over his shoulder if he wanted. Now that he’d pushed her particular “independent woman” button, she would walk on her own two feet until the moment that she couldn’t stand up any longer. And based on the experience so far, she just might reach that point pretty soon.

  She looked around the parking lot that was for private club members only. No public parking to be had—not even for those who came to enjoy the unique and delicious fare in Twilight Teahouse.

  “Quite a few more cars here than I’d expect for a mid-day romp. What are we doing here, Burton?”

  “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t invite anyone into our play unless we’d discussed. And honestly I’m not anxious to share you at all. As for today, you’ve done so well denying yourself multiple orgasms, I think you deserve a treat.”

  She eyeballed him but didn’t ask what kind of treat. Besides, he knew full well that she was curious, and if he wanted to tell her he would.

  “I asked Kuri to hold a play room for us, just in case we made it out here today. Fourth floor. Japanese baths.”

  An unfamiliar sound erupted out of Solie’s throat. It kind of sounded like a…squeal. Solie was sure she’d never made that sound before, but immediately didn’t care. Out of the car, not only were her legs steady, she practically ran Burton over trying to get to the elevator.

  Solie and Mac took advantage of the spa on the second floor at least once a month. Nothing kinky, just a slice of mani-pedi heaven. However, the fourth floor was couples only—no exceptions. She’d wanted to experience the Japanese themed play space forever, but the ex-dude hadn’t been interested. Solie learned later that one of the many women he’d slept around with worked up there—big surprise. Not!

  And now, thanks to Mr. Burton Khrys, here she was at last.

  This man is racking up some serious lucky points.

  Once inside the sleek elevator, Solie pushed the button for the fourth floor. Doors slid closed but the elevator didn’t move.

  Shit.

  She didn’t have her little magnetized access keycard to the club.

  Damn it, damn it, damn it.

  Burton reached past her, swiped his keycard and Solie let out a sigh of relief.

  Though her sex was heated and throbbing, her underwear was soaked and the damn things were beginning to cool against her skin. The only words in her head right were “clothes”, “off” and “now”.

  Relief. She needed it badly. But more than that, Solie needed Burton, the man, not just what he could give her, or do for her. She needed his special kind of tenderness. His own unique brand of care.

  Suddenly he was there, pressed against her even as her back was flush against the cool frosted glass of the elevator wall. She drank from his lips as if his kiss were her oasis in the dessert. He’d been raining life on her own particular parched heart for years. She just hadn’t realized the depth of it until now. All the love and care he’d shown in their platonic relationship was just as solid and sincere now that they’d decided on an intimate pairing.

  And now that she’d had a taste, Solie loved kissing Burt. The man put all his emotion and intention into every kiss, every time.

  He’d told her when he’d picked her up for lunch today that she would focus on nothing but the two of them. No work. No clients. The man had been so right—her concentration was on him, them. No one and nothing else. Not her past. Nor her future. Hell, not even the present, with the exception of where this elevator was headed.

  Burton broke the kiss, but Solie kept her eyes closed and waited to see, feel, what was next.

  Her man flipped her around, grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head sideways. Then he bit her on that spot—the one that made her unsteady and her entire body quiver. He bit her again, then sucked the skin just there. Solie’s knees buckled. Burton
caught her and lifted her into his strong, brawny arms with no effort. Barely a moment later, the elevator dinged.

  God help her, they’d reached the fourth floor already?

  Doors slid open and she felt Burton move. Head buried in his chest, she listened to the solid thump of a strong heart, heard him speak briefly to someone, and then they were off again.

  A traditional Japanese bath meant scrubbing down in the shower, and then soaking in a deep tub for relaxation. Images floated through her head of Burton’s lean and muscular body as she’d washed him in her own bath at home. All that deeply tanned skin, sprinkled with dark hair on ropey defined arms. The sculpted chest as she’d it over with ginger soap and played with the single nipple ring that graced his left pectoral. Solie almost smiled against his shirt just now as she remembered how the thick beautiful cock had tapped her forehead as she’d scrubbed his quads thoroughly. His groans of pleasure as her fingers glided over his perfect ass.

  Women would kill for an ass like Burton Khrys. Just…dayum.

  “Thank you,” Burt said with a hearty laugh.

  “Huh?”

  “You complimented my ass. Glad you like it.”

  “Wait, what? Oh, never mind. You must be the only man on Earth that makes me say things out loud when I don’t mean to.” Solie tried to sound grumpy, she really did. But his fingers were teasing the underside of her breast and she tried to bury her face even deeper into his chest as he hurried along.

  “Like I said earlier, adorably goofy.”

  Smart ass.

  “Really?” Burt snorted. “I think you’ve just earned yourself a spanking with your orgasms.”

  Yep. I’m definitely gone in the brain.

  Only she made sure to keep that particular thought to herself.

  * * * * *

  Solie found herself carried into an immaculate cream and lapis blue shower that was big enough for at least ten people. A little wooden stool sat in the middle of the space.