“My father is a hardheaded old man, and José is very much like him. I do send my brother a gift at Christmas and for his birthday, but I never get an acknowledgement, and I’ve kept tabs on him from afar. He’s twice married and divorced now, and still lives in Ayamonte. I know he has my number, because I’ve included it in all of my correspondence, but he’s certainly never used it. I doubt he ever will. Hence I don’t really celebrate my birthday. There seems no point in it. It’s just another day that passes.”
Pedro sought her gaze, and he smiled at the tears shimmering in her eyes again.
“What about Cisco?” she asked. “What happened to him?”
“We stayed together for a number of years. Both of us working odd jobs to stay afloat. When an opportunity presented itself to go the UK, we parted company. He didn’t want to leave Spain.”
“That’s sad,” Peyton said, and Pedro shrugged his shoulders.
“We had more or less fizzled out by then. The chef I was working under at the time was headhunted by a UK restaurant chain, and he offered to take me with him. I jumped at the chance.”
“Ah,” Peyton said and smiled. “That’s why you cook so well.”
Pedro grinned.
“Yes, well, I didn’t stay with them long. He seemed to think that I ought to be grateful to him and suck his dick whenever he demanded. By that time I had pretty much figured out that I didn’t have a submissive bone in my body, so I told him to take a fucking hike and took off on my own. I discovered I had a talent for selling, and so here I am, your resident estate agent, at your service.”
Peyton laughed at that.
“And there was me thinking it was me at your service, Sir.”
“Only as much you’re willing to give me, pequeñita, you know that. You set the rules here. My job is to make you bend them, and push you until you fly.”
He settled his hand on her nape and the other on her thigh, and he smiled at her.
“Now seems as good a time as any to revisit those limits of yours.”
Peyton swallowed hard, and he inched the hand on her leg higher. She opened up for him without having to be told and his grin deepened, when she shivered. Her nipples puckered into firm nubs under the shirt, and he wanted her naked.
“Take the shirt off, pequeñita.”
She complied with trembling fingers, and he let go of her nape to enable her to pull it over her head. He took it off her and deftly twisted it around her wrists at her back in makeshift handcuffs.
A shiver went through her when he pulled her back by the ends of the T-shirt in his fist, until she was bent over the side of the sofa’s padded armrest. The action pushed her breasts up, and he indulged himself by sucking first one, and then the other rosy peak into his mouth. Peyton moaned and squirmed underneath him, and he grazed his teeth along the nipple in his mouth. Wet from his tongue, it stood stiffly to attention, and he grinned and got off the settee.
“I know what we need for those. I’ve got my clamps upstairs, but I’ve got something even better we can use down here. Don’t move now.”
He grinned at her strangled, “yes, Sir,” and strolled across to the dining room. He found what he was looking for in the bottom drawer, and Peyton paled when she saw what he held in his hand.
Lifting her arms from behind her back, he raised them up and tied the ends of the shirt to the wooden leg of the settee.
Peyton moaned when he ran his hands up her arms, and adjusted the cushions behind her back.
“Comfy there?” he asked and she shook her head.
“Good.” he said, and he could tell she was itching to tell him what for. The fact that she didn’t showed how far she had come already.
“Good girl, you’re going to take this bit of discomfort for your Sir, aren’t you? Because if you’ll continue to be a good girl, I’ll fuck you again, just like you want me to.”
He tapped her knees and she opened up for him. Her pretty pink pussy was soaked with her arousal, her puffy labia glistening in her feminine juices, and he ran his fingers along her slit.
Peyton tensed and thrust her hips up, and he circled her rapidly swelling clit several times in slow motion until the fine sheen of arousal coated her body, and her breaths came in short gasps.
Her pussy clenched underneath him, trying to draw in his fingers, and he laughed and slapped her clit lightly.
Peyton groaned and bit her lip. The deep-throated sound shot straight to his cock, and he shrugged out of his joggers and pumped his aching shaft a few times.
Peyton’s passion-filled gaze zeroed in on the slow movement of his hand and she licked her lips.
“Hmm, si, my naughty little sub wants my cock rather badly I see, but she’ll have to earn it first. About those limits.”
Peyton shook her head and grunted her annoyance.
“Damn those limits. Please, Sir, I trust you. Just no cutting or breaking the skin, unless…”
Pedro smiled down at her.
“Unless what, pequeñita?” he asked.
Peyton blushed and he once again marveled at her ability to still do that. They would have to work on this problem. She had to voice her needs.
“Unless it’s with your teeth,” she whispered. “I rather like that.”
Pride surged through Pedro at her halting admission. Biting was one of his favorite ways to leave marks.
“Just not where others can see, please, Sir.”
Pedro bent to kiss her, and the eagerness with which she kissed him back meant he had to break away to get himself back under control. Pre-cum leaked from his aching shaft and he wanted to bury his dick balls-deep in her body, but first he had to push her a little more.
He nodded his agreement, and getting on his knees, took both of her breasts in his hands and squeezed. Peyton yanked on her restraints and arched her back to get closer to him, when he delivered little bites along her breasts, until he reached her nipple and bit down hard. Peyton screamed and thrashed her legs, until he straddled her, effectively stopping any of her movements.
She whimpered when he picked the packet of clothes pegs of the floor and held it so that she could see them. Her breathing grew erratic as he slowly peeled away the layers of see-through wrapping and tugged one off its cardboard anchoring. Pedro opened it and let it shut with a satisfying snap that made Peyton whimper again.
Her gaze seemed riveted on the peg in his hand, and she pulled in her tummy when he ran the wooden object round her tummy button. Delivering little nips with the peg, he let it trail south. Pedro lifted off her legs in the process, and then ran the closed peg repeatedly through her slit. He circled her clit and Peyton jumped, and then groaned when he lifted the wooden peg, darkened with her arousal up to his mouth and licked it clean.
He resumed the slow pace back up from her mound over her quivering belly to the valley of her breasts, and then circled each nipple in turn.
“This will hurt at first, pequeña. Breathe through the pain for me.”
“O–Okay?” Peyton bit her lip and tensed, and he walked the fingers of his free hand back down her body until he found her clit. She relaxed and thrust her hips up as far as she could with him on her knees between her legs now. Pedro thrust two fingers into her desperately clenching cunt as he attached the peg to her stiff nipple.
Peyton jerked and panted, and he kept up his finger fucking until she relaxed and pushed against him.
“That’s my girl.”
She swore softly when he withdrew his fingers and he thrust them into her open mouth while he attached the second peg. Peyton bit down on hard on his fingers and grunted. The sharp pain shot straight to his balls, and he gritted his teeth against the urge to fuck her right now.
Instead he picked up another peg, and Peyton shook her head and mouthed no around his fingers.
Pedro laughed, enjoying the way her breathing sped up, and she tried to scoot away from the approaching peg.
“No is not your safe word. You will take this for me.”
Without warning,
he attached the peg to her breast and Peyton cried out. She didn’t safe word, however, and Pedro kept up the onslaught on her tits, all too aware of her ever increasing scent.
“You’re so fucking wet for me, pequeña. Just a few more.”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond, just kept attaching the pegs until her breasts were decorated in rows of pegs. Peyton’s eyes had long since taken on that glassy sheen which meant she was happily floating, and Pedro sat back and simply allowed himself a moment to bathe in the beauty of her submission. Grabbing a condom out of the back pocket of his joggers, he sheathed himself and slid into her welcoming heat in one long stroke. The velvet heat of her pussy clenched around his length and Peyton made a sound between a growl and a shout at the back of her throat, and he grasped her hips and started thrusting in earnest.
Sweat dripped into his eyes, and Peyton’s eyes cleared as her orgasm built. Tiny tremors raced along his cock, threatening to send him over the edge too fast, but he wanted to see her fall apart first. He pulled out of her and shoving her legs over his shoulders, rammed into her faster. The sofa shook and Peyton moaned and whimpered, her little needy sounds getting faster and louder. When he took the last peg he had and clamped it onto her clit, Peyton screamed his name and exploded in a powerful orgasm that squeezed the shit out of his dick and sent him into bliss right after her.
With him still deeply lodged inside her body, he removed each peg slowly, starting with the one on her clit, and Peyton moaned and thrashed. By the time he’d taken the last one off, she was so close to coming again, that one last thrust into the deep clasp of her body was all it took for her to fly headlong into another orgasm.
Peyton burst into tears, and Pedro swore. He disposed of the condom by tying it off, and then released her from her bonds and drew her shivering form on his lap and into his arms.
“There, you did so very well, pequeña. Shhh, calm yourself now.”
Peyton snuggled into him, and when she eventually stopped crying, he tipped her head up. She gave him a watery smile, and he kissed her nose.
“Back with me?”
Peyton nodded and looked down on the myriad of tiny red marks the pegs had left behind. She traced some of them with her fingers, and when she finally looked up at him, her brilliant smile took his breath away.
“When can we do that again, Sir?”
Pedro laughed, and shook his head at her pretend sulk.
“Soon, pequeñita. We’ve got all weekend, after all.”
Chapter Ten
Peyton took a deep breath when she pulled into the car park of Club Spectrum. Had it really been a week since that night of her auction? She’d had similar nerves then. In fact, she’d felt so nauseous her first trip inside had been to the loos.
Shutting off the engine, she wiped her clammy hands on her trench coat and got out of her car. The car park wasn’t quite as full as it had been that night, but it was full enough to mean a busy club. Pedro’s car parked in his spot by the entrance made some of her nerves abate. Knowing he was in there, waiting for her, helped slightly, and she couldn’t help her grin.
After the most amazing weekend spent in his company, during which they had hashed out their particular protocol and Peyton had learned more about her body and her needs than she’d had in all of her previous sexual encounters combined, they had parted company Monday morning and hadn’t seen each other since. Peyton got involved in the reporting of the latest murder case to hit the newsstands—a harrowing account of domestic violence that left her in tears most nights and on the phone to Pedro. His soothing voice helped her sleep, together with the little tasks he’d set her. Peyton gladly complied with his wishes concerning her underwear and hair style. Small things really, but they made her feel closer to him, while he was busy working away at a conference.
The door to the club burst open and three giggly young women exited. They huddled in the corner for a smoke and an animated gossip. She recognized one of them. Lindsey was a busty blonde, who had been on locker room duty when Peyton had last been here, and she nudged her compatriots when Peyton slowly approached, pulling the sides of the all-encompassing trench coat tighter around herself. A cold breeze blew up her stockinged legs and across her bare mound. She had found tonight’s outfit on her doorstep, when she’d come from work with a note written in Pedro’s bold writing.
Look forward to seeing you in this later.
The box had held sheer hold-up stockings, a tiny leather skirt, and a velvet corset that had taken her breath away with its stunning elegance. Once she had managed to get the darn thing on, which had required rather a lot of interesting gyrations and the use of a coat hanger to get to the laces, she’d stood speechless in front of her mirror.
With her long black hair tumbling down her back, the woman staring back at her had curves to die for. The thing which had made her smile the most had been the tag attached to the front of her corset.
Discreet, yet unmistakable it simply read Master Pedro’s.
Even now, knowing it was there gave her an extra spring to her step, and she gritted her teeth against the laughing whispers about her outfit. Her ears perked up when she heard Pedro’s name mentioned, but she couldn’t catch what the girls were saying, so she kept her head high and pushed through the door.
“Hold up there, my break is over, and you’ll need me to take that anyway.” Lindsey sashayed past her, swinging her tiny ass from side to side and making Peyton feel far from glamorous. The slip of a girl wore skintight leggings that left nothing to the imagination and the tiny triangles of a bikini top barely held her overinflated boobs in. They had to be fake. Peyton narrowed her eyes and bit back the snarky retort bubbling on her tongue at the disparaging look the other woman gave her trench coat. So what if Peyton didn’t fancy showing her wear-with-alls while she was driving over here?
“What brings you back here then?” Lindsey asked and popped a big bubble of chewing gum. “I’d have thought Master Pedro would have put you off.”
“Oh, he’s dreamy.” One of the other giggling Gertrudes piped up.
“Scary, more like,” the other one chipped in, and Lindsey laughed.
“Ah, Master Pedro is a pussy cat really in the right hands.”
“Oh, yes, you’ve played with him, haven’t you? Is he really as fierce as his reputation?”
Lindsey popped another bubble and smirked.
“Like I said he’s a…oh.”
Whatever else the irritating blonde was going to say, seemed to have fled her brain when Peyton shrugged out of her coat and handed it to her, and Peyton straightened her spine and pushed her boobs out for extra measure. She didn’t miss the way Lindsey’s gaze zoomed to the tag, and the other woman’s eyes narrowed.
Hah, take that between your silicone-enhanced cleavage, and choke on it. He’s mine.
All three girls gasped when she turned round to enter the main club area, and Peyton had a moment of doubt. She had been proud of the marks on her back, exposed by the low-cut corset, but seeing the almost horrified expression on the other subs’ faces, she wasn’t so sure now. Especially as they had faded quite a bit. If they reacted like that, heaven help her if the outside world ever saw them. Suddenly, writing that article took on a new urgency in Peyton’s mind.
Pedro had said he’d spoken to Scarlett and Slade, but he hadn’t told her what the outcome of that discussion had been, and Peyton jumped when the door opened and Scarlett strolled in. She looked far from happy, and Peyton hastily dropped her gaze to the floor.
“There you are, girl,” she said, and used her whip handle to raise Peyton’s chin up. “Your Master is getting impatient waiting for you, so he’s sent me to fetch you. Too busy gossiping with these three, were you?”
Scarlett’s feline gaze took in her appearance, and a faint smile kicked up her lips when she saw Pedro’s tag.
“Cat got your tongue?” she asked, and Peyton swallowed nervously, when she used that damn handle to flick Peyton’s hair over her sh
oulder and slowly circled her. She whistled through her teeth, and Peyton had a hard time standing still when Scarlett traced the marks on her back with the tip of her whip handle.
“Now, this girls, is what I call some marks to be proud of, so you three can stop staring and get on with your work.”
“Yes, Mistress Scarlett, sorry, Mistress Scarlett.” There was a flurry of activity and then Peyton was on her own with Scarlett. The other woman stepped back into her vision, and smiled at her.
“Did they give you a hard time over those?” she asked, and stepping closer, she smoothed Peyton’s hair back and traced the bite mark on top of her breast with her fingertips. “Long time since I’ve seen Pedro doing that to anyone. You’re a lucky girl, so don’t let other folk’s perceptions take away from that.”
Peyton nodded, but she had to ask.
“How did you know they—”
“Were being bitchy?” Scarlett interrupted her and laughed. “Human nature, my dear. Master Pedro is a very sought after Dom here at the club. Most subs can’t take his particular brand of creative sadism, shall we say, so he always holds back when he plays. I knew you’d two suit. I’m glad to see my instincts were correct.” She briefly touched the tag on Peyton’s corset and grinned. “This is a particularly nice touch. Trust Pedro.”
Scarlett turned to walk back into the main room and Peyton cleared her throat.
“Erm, ma’am?”
Scarlett laughed and turned back round again. “Good grief, don’t call me that, that makes me sound ancient and I’m not the queen. Feel free to call me Scarlett when it’s just us. Lady or Mistress in the club for appearance’s sake.”
“Oh, okay.” This was a side of Scarlett Peyton hadn’t seen before, and it somehow made what she wanted to say to the formidable Domme easier.
“I just wanted to say sorry.”
Scarlett’s eyebrows rose, and she put her hand on her hips. The leather catsuits she wore at the club left nothing to the imagination, and even though Peyton was taller than her, she certainly felt at a disadvantage.
“For?” Scarlett asked.
Auctioned to the Spanish Dom [The Spectrum Auctions 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 10