Teach Me, Master (Neighbors, 3)

by Qwillia Rain

  “Ah, Treats, you do me so good. Come on, baby, suck me. Bring your master pleasure.”

  The grip of his hand became the tight, suctioning draw of her mouth around him, squeezing the last drops out of him. “Swallow it, Treats. Swallow all of it.” The guttural command echoed in the quiet of his bedroom.

  Her rough breathing sounded beside his ear. After disengaging the speaker function, he focused on slowing his breathing.

  Triss’s plea was achy and soft. “May I come, Master?”

  “No, pet.”

  “Please, Master. It hurts.”

  “No. You refused an instruction. You need to learn your lesson.” He watched her on the balcony, her body tense, breasts swollen and tempting. “Put the blanket on and go inside.”

  She pulled the slider closed behind her after following his instructions and sniped. “I guess the floor show is over?”

  “For now.”

  Treats flounced onto the sofa and frowned at him. “I don’t know if I like this game.”

  “You like it.”

  She stayed silent.

  “No coming, Treats.”

  “How did you -- ”

  “I know you, pet. If you disobey me and masturbate yourself to climax tonight you will not like the consequences.” It was a promise. A warning.

  “You’ll never know --”

  “I’ll know and I won’t like it.”

  She seemed to think about it, her gaze on him while he watched her. “It’s only a game, Vince.”

  “Are you sure about that?” He intended this be more than a game. From the way she responded he was pretty sure she was aware of his intentions. At least on a subconscious level.

  Triss stayed silent.

  “Tell me my name, pet,” Vince whispered.

  He could see her chewing her lip.

  He prompted even more softly. “Say it.”

  “Master.”

  Vince could feel himself smiling. “Well done, baby. Go take a shower. Keep your hands off my pussy, and I’ll see you soon.”

  Triss watched him roll out of his bed and head into the bathroom. Leaving the blanket on her sofa, she headed into her bedroom and dropped the phone on her nightstand. In the bathroom, she clipped her hair on top of her head and climbed into the shower as he’d instructed.

  Her body ached, throbbed for satisfaction, but instinct warned her Vince would know if she ignored his command. So what if she did ignore him? A strident voice argued. You’re a single, independent woman. There’s nothing between you and that man but phone sex.

  Common sense had her agreeing, but still she resisted defying Vince. She didn’t linger and only took a few minutes to dry off and brush out her hair. With all the lights out, she climbed into bed and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep from thinking about the throbbing low in her belly.

  Do it. You don’t need his permission.

  She’d done her research on BDSM, so Triss wasn’t ignorant about how things could play out. Vince would voice his disappointment, but she didn’t have to play the game if she didn’t want to.

  So stop playing.

  She pretended she hadn’t heard the thought and tried to process through the situation like she would a vexing plot point in one of her stories. Maybe then the good girl side of her brain would shut up and let her enjoy the fantasy for a bit. A snort of disbelief slipped free, the bad girl part of her equally sure that event wasn’t likely.

  According to Vince and her research, BDSM was about trust. She’d be foolish and disrespectful of his offer to teach her about the lifestyle by breaking his trust in her.

  It would be silly to lie to herself that she didn’t find his authoritative manner and brusque commands stimulating. Based on her current state of arousal, she obviously did. Add to that her curiosity about what other things he could show her. How much more would she be willing to deal with? Would his lessons be restricted to verbal only or would they actually have sex?

  That was a dangerous and tempting thought. Would she really go so far as to have sex with Vince? The fantasies were hot, but reality, could it be as good? Her hands strayed below her waist, but she stopped herself and shoved them under her pillow. Each time he asked it became more difficult to say no.

  She could see his straight black hair, long and loose around his shoulders, blue eyes flashing with dominance and hot with lusty intent as he directed her into his bedroom and bound her to his big king size bed. Clothes would melt away leaving his muscled body warm and firm, poised over hers, the golden tan of his skin looking dark against her creamy skin.

  With past observation and tonight as her proof, she knew his aroused body would leave her feeling both intimidated and excited. The nerves in her belly would jump, but the feminine core of her would bloom, growing moist and ready for him to take her. Like it was now.

  Triss groaned and grabbed the extra pillow on the bed beside her. Covering her face, she cursed the stirrings taking over her body. Her mind. What the hell was she doing playing naughty sex games with her neighbor? A sexy, hot neighbor who was virtually a stranger. None of the men she’d dated in the past had ever affected her like this. Was it the dominance that attracted her?

  Cognizant of the dangers some men posed, she’d done her homework about him. Before all of his sexy suggestions and directions, they’d chatted about their jobs and a few personal things. The nice girl her mama raised knew intellectual stimulation and mutual respect should form the basis of any relationship. She’d been taught that a couple should take time to get to know one another before making any decision about engaging in sex.

  Other than knowing he enjoyed mysteries and espionage novels, he hated the Mets and Yankees and always rooted for the Reds or Boston, and that he liked a woman who swallowed, the man was a puzzle to her. Every warning her mama, daddy, and brothers had ever voiced about men who didn’t respect loose women came rushing to mind whenever he asked her to let him into her home.

  On the other hand, if she didn’t get her ass in gear, she’d be using a walker before she ever experienced a climax with a man inside her. But shallow sex, sex for sex’s sake wasn’t what she wanted. She’d turned down at least a dozen offers for that in the past. Slapping the pillow back onto the bed, Triss rolled onto her side and glared out the window of her bedroom.

  Across the street, in the darkened confines of his bedroom, she watched Vince shift in his bed. He wasn’t the first man to attract her, but he was the first not to turn away when she rebuffed him. The fact that he never allowed her to take control; that he showed her how much more enjoyable letting someone else lead should have sent her running. She’d spent years establishing her independence, despite the presence of one of her older brothers in the same town as she. It should make her spitting mad that Vince wanted her to submit to him.

  Instead it stirred to life all the wicked fantasies she’d hidden away deep inside. The scenes and dreams of domination, of being forced to accept, to revel in the pleasure a man induced with the touch of his hand, the thrust of his cock. Even the idea of the snap and sting of a flogger, the hot slap of a hand across her ass made her wet with enthusiasm. The bad girl inside wanted to dress in black leather and lace, a collar around her throat, proudly displayed as a possession by her master. As long as that master was Vince.

  It went against everything she’d ever believed, and all that society decreed a modern woman should be, but Triss ached for it all while denying herself access to it. She had a feeling denying that craving would be the hardest thing to deal with no matter what Vince asked of her.

  And indulging in the phone calls with Vince only made the ache worse. Unless he was going to offer more that casual sex, she’d turn away from him too, but it would be one of the hardest decisions she’d ever made.

  Chapter Five

  Fate has it in for me, I just know it. Triss fought to keep from groaning. The second she pulled into her parking space at her apartment and turned off her truck, she spotted Vince, seated on the steps l
eading up to her building. Smoking.

  A suit and a tie made him look sexy. Slacks, shirt, and a leather coat on him hit the hot meter. Faded jeans that hugged his hips and thighs, a dark green tee-shirt emphasizing his muscular torso, topped with a lined denim jacket, pushed him way off the hawt scale into the “leaves ashes when he’s through” zone.

  Her gaze stayed on him while she gathered her tote bag and climbed out. From the back of her truck, she grabbed the plastic carrier with her cleaning supplies, all the time sneaking glances until Vince finished his cigarette and rose to his feet.

  He pinched the filter from the lit end and ground the smoldering tip out beneath his work boot before tucking the filter into his pocket when she approached.

  “You smoke.” Triss sniffed, expecting the acrid stench of tobacco but only the mild scent of cloves lingered in the air.

  “Occasionally,” he replied. He waited until she stood next to him to take the cleaning caddy from her hand.

  Shaken, not sure what to make of his appearance, Triss asked, “Why are you here?”

  His gaze met hers then examined her face, traveled down over her flannel shirt and the tank top beneath, to the worn and faded jeans she wore and the sneakers on her feet. “For you.”

  It took her a moment to realize he’d answered. Her heart was hammering so loudly in her chest; the blood rushing through her veins blocked any sound from getting through. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m here for you, pet.”

  Liquid heat pooled in her core, her thighs turned to jelly, her knees to mush, and common sense took a temporary vacation. “For? Why?”

  Vince chuckled and smiled down at her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her close. “The reasons are endless, Treats. But I’d rather discuss them in private.”

  Triss swallowed, the part he’d teased and tempted for the last six months excitedly urged her to go with him, while the saner, warier part splashed scenes of her mama and daddy shaking their heads at her through her mind.

  He dipped his head and the warm scent of his body, denim, and cloves filled her senses. “Invite me in, pet. I promise not to bite. Not even a nibble.” He eased back and teased, “At least not yet.”

  Here was the door, Triss decided. This was her opportunity, her chance to explore the things she’d always been curious about. And they could happen with a man who set her thighs on fire.

  Something in her expression must have hinted at her hesitation. The blue of his eyes went dark and the humor left his face. He let his arm drop from around her waist.

  The sudden loss of his warmth sent a shiver through her.

  “If you say no, I’ll never ask again. It ends here. Now.” He stepped back, away from her. “Decision is yours, Triss.”

  The sound of her name on his lips rather than the nicknames he’d used for the last year hurt more than she’d expected.

  A crush was one thing. She had no doubt she could survive heart whole if all she felt for Vince was a simple crush. But the wash of despair that coursed through her when he used her real name; that should have been warning enough that she had more at stake than just great sex. Ignoring the echoes of her mama’s teachings, and before she could chicken out, she held her hand out to him, palm up.

  Neither spoke as Triss led him up to her third floor apartment. She studiously avoided looking at the small gym-style bag Vince had collected from the porch before following her upstairs.

  Inside her apartment, she stored the caddy in a linen closet and slung her tote bag over the back of her desk chair.

  “I read your book about the construction worker and the accountant,” Vince told her.

  Her nerves were jumping like water drops on a hot skillet. Triss wondered how he could stay so relaxed. “How did you know it was my book? How did you know what I write?”

  He watched her prowl through the room. “I took one of your business cards when you dropped your bag the other day.”

  She blinked, trying to focus her swirling thoughts. “You did? Why?”

  “In all our conversations you never told me what you wrote when I’d see you on your computer.”

  “Oh.”

  “I googled your list of books and bought them.”

  The idea that this man would have read her books made her tingle. And worry. Would he expect her to be as sexually experienced as her characters? Would he be disappointed if she messed up and did something gauche?

  The phone sex had been fun. A game played at a distance with only her imagination to guide her along with his words, but enthusiasm and imagination could only take a person so far.

  Vince shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over the sofa, then relaxed against the foyer wall. “I only had time to read the one so far. It was hot. Very sexy.”

  The calm he exuded drew her closer. Her fingers worried the buttons open on her flannel shirt. “So you liked it?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.” He crooked his finger at her, drawing her forward until she stood in front of him. His voice was soft, sensual as he told her. “Although I’ve never considered the handle of a ball peen hammer as a sex toy. I was a bit surprised when Chelsea took it up the ass so well. Based on your description, Charlie did a good job reshaping the end.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh at the way he’d phrased it. Her laughter faded when Vince moved closer. His hands went to her waist, backing her up until she was pressed against the wall. Triss tried to sound in control despite the insane rate of her pulse, the pounding of her heart. “You -- you wanted to talk?”

  His hands moved upward, releasing the last few buttons holding her shirt together. “Do you remember what I told you before you went to bed?”

  No beating around the bush this time. “Yes.”

  The flannel drifted to the floor after he eased it from her shoulders. Vince leaned down, his lips a soft caress against her cheek, the warm wash of his breath teasing her ear. “And have you been good, pet?”

  Warmth spread through her. Starting with her breasts. He didn’t grope and squeeze. His hands simply cupped her breasts, smoothing over the curves before sliding lower, dealing quickly with the fastenings of her jeans. He pulled back to hold her gaze, tingles radiated outward from where his fingers circled her navel then slipped beneath the lacy trim on her pink cotton panties. “Have you kept your hands away from my pussy?”

  Fire flooded her cheeks. Whether it was from his words or the way her body reacted to the press of his fingers over her mound, she couldn’t say. “No -- I mean, yes,” she gasped. She rose onto her tiptoes as first one finger, then a second delved between the moist folds of her sex.

  “Which is it? Did you or did you not touch yourself in order to orgasm?” He nipped at her earlobe while zeroing in on her clit, circling and rubbing it.

  Triss could barely think. This wasn’t what she’d expected. Yes, she’d fantasized and dreamed of Vince taking the lead sexually; of demanding she submit to him, but she never imagined it would happen. Nor that she would give in so easily to his control.

  “Answer me, pet.”

  “Di -- di -- did not. I did not orgasm.” Her brain was telling her to push him away. Get him out of her home. But her body wasn’t listening. Instead of pulling his hands off her, Triss gripped his shoulders and arched into his touch. Absorbing how warm his chest was against hers. How the muscles in his shoulders felt under her fingertips as she tugged him closer, while his fingers worked magic between her thighs.

  “Do you want to? Shall I allow you to come?”

  Tingles rippled outward from where he teased her flesh. Arousal coiled inside. “Please.”

  His lips caressed her cheek. Nibbled at her ear. The thick length of one finger parted the puffy folds of her sex and skirted the entrance to her body, while his thumb rubbed and flicked the bud of nerves. “Do you want me to fuck you, Treats? Does your sweet pussy want my cock? Or shall I use my fingers?”

  Brain-melting need left Triss speechless, incapable of coherent discourse. Sh
e rocked against his touch. The slide of her jeans down her legs only registered because Vince’s touch left her clit to strip away her shoes and socks in order to remove her pants. Before she could form a protest at his desertion, he was back.

  Hands, hers and his, fought to pull off the tank top she wore. He didn’t bother removing her bra. The cups were shoved down, baring her breasts.

  “Decide, pet,” he warned before his mouth latched onto one breast. He suckled the puckered nipple to a painful point before releasing it and taking the other into his mouth.

  “Wha -- what? Oh, God, please.” Triss knew she was babbling and she didn’t care. The empty, aching void between her thighs was finally being filled. First one finger, then a second, stretching, stroking, rubbing against spots she’d never imagined could be so sensitive.

  “Fingers or cock, baby. Which do you want to come on first?” Vince lifted his head, his dark hair curled around his shoulders. Disheveled by her hands, she hadn’t been aware of stripping away the band that held it. The blue of his eyes nearly non-existent around his expanded pupils. “Choose.”

  No turning back. But did she really want to? “Cock.”

  The room spun around her.

  If she’d thought Vince would play the romantic knight, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her to her bedroom, she was wrong. He swept her up, but only to toss her over his shoulder. The gym bag he’d brought with him, banged against his thigh as he crossed the living room into her bedroom. Even upside down, Triss could appreciate the way the denim hugged his ass. Without consciously deciding to, she reached down and grabbed a cheek in each hand and squeezed.

  Vince didn’t break stride, but his teeth nipped her bare thigh, startling a cry out of her just before he dumped her onto her bed. Arousal still buzzed through her system, but reality was creeping in with the late afternoon sunlight spilling through her window. Heat spread up her chest into her face. She hastily pulled her legs together and started to sit up, watching Vince unlace his boots and strip them and his socks off.