by Marie Harte
She blinked at him. “Who are you and what have you done with Mac Jameson?” What he’d said stole her breath away. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?” he said gruffly. “I told you I don’t know art. I just know what I like. I like it a lot.” He pulled her into his lap. “Almost as much as I like you.”
She let him draw her down and kiss her. But she didn’t know what to think. Though he continued to remain aroused beneath her, the kisses he gave her were tender, heartfelt. Nothing erotic, but genuinely warm. And then he hugged her, putting her face right up against her heart.
“I love it, okay? You gave it to me, and it’s mine. No takebacks.”
She chuckled, her laughter muffled against his chest. “Don’t you want the rest of your present?”
“There’s more?” He pulled back to question her. “I only got you the earrings. Don’t tell me I have to go out and buy more.”
“Ass.”
He leered at her. “Keep those insults coming, sweetheart…until we enter our zone. Then it’s all about, ‘Yes, Sir. No, Sir.’ I fucking love that.”
Then he was going to be ecstatic about her next present.
“Okay. Wait here. I’ll bring it to you.”
“Fine.”
“No peeking. Turn down the lights and rev up that fire, will you? I want the mood to be just right.”
“Keep it up with the attitude and you’ll pay,” he taunted as he left the couch and turned to the fire.
She grabbed her bag and raced into the bathroom down the hall. There, she got naked and dug into the presents she’d wrapped to mask her gift. She pulled the silken corset out and put it on. The red material was laced in black. It barely covered her nipples and plumped her breasts to make them look fuller. Cinched at her waist, the flare that hit her hips ended at the sides but had a flap that narrowly covered her mons and buttoned behind her on her lower back, effectively shielding her crotch unless pulled aside or unbuttoned. The thin string between her ass cheeks made a thong look huge.
She hoped he’d like the outfit. She put on the shoes, then fiddled with her hair in the mirror. She decided to leave the earrings on and left her hair in the clip she wore. Then she donned the fuzzy heels and put a garter on her left thigh. After applying some eye liner, a hint of shadow, and deep red lipstick, she felt ready. Sexy. She fingered the velvet choker collar she’d bought but wondered if it would be too much.
Then she said to hell with hit and attached it around her throat. To the small loop on the collar, she fixed a thin velvet lead. Symbolic of ownership if not practical for use, the collar and chain would give Mac a thrill and not make him laugh…she hoped.
Maggie pushed the door open. “You ready?”
“I’m falling asleep in here. Come on.”
“Grouch.” She left the bathroom and remembered to walk slowly. A sexy sway of her hips, the tiny steps meant to enhance the view of her calves while she thrust her chest out slightly, to give emphasis to her breasts.
She reached the living room to see Mac with his head back on the couch, his eyes closed. He’d lowered the lighting to a few candles and the fire, and the flickering light did him real justice. He’d unbuttoned his shirt, and the sight of his bare chest in shadow turned her on more than her sexy getup.
“Merry Christmas, Master.” She handed the leash to him as he opened his eyes and looked at her.
She had to stand fairly close, because the leash wasn’t that long.
But that didn’t seem to matter.
“Holy fuck.” Mac’s eyes were wide, and he didn’t stop staring for a full minute.
She let him look his fill, hoping he liked what he saw.
He dropped the leash. “Move back.”
She would have been upset he’d let her go, except the look on his face and his guttural tone told her he definitely liked her gift.
Maggie stepped back.
“Stop. Turn around.”
She didn’t wear underwear, just the flap from the corset protecting her lower half from scrutiny. Well, her front. Nothing but a thin string nudged the crack of her ass.
“Motherfucker.” Mac’s hand on her hip forced her to remain still. He touched her where the corset didn’t, tracing her flank, her ass, and the smooth skin of her sex. “You shaved completely?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“For you, Master.”
“Little sub, you have earned one hell of a Christmas reward.” He turned her around and skated his fingers over the tops of her breasts. “I see nipples.” He leaned down to lick, and she sucked in a breath. “The collar and chain are a nice touch.” He gripped the leash again. “I like.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He nodded at the earrings. “You like the jewelry?”
“Very much, Sir.”
“Good.” He tugged on the corset and her nipples popped free. “Now stay still. Not a word until I tell you.”
She didn’t speak, caught up in the lust on his face. He kissed her neck and trailed his mouth to her ear. Then he skimmed his fingers over her belly and down to the bottom of the corset. He pulled at the strip hugging her pussy, so that it bit into her clit. In seconds it grew saturated from the arousal she couldn’t help.
He whispered against her ear, “I am so fucking turned on right now I’d come if you breathed across my dick. You please me, little sub. You really do.”
She melted against him, so in love.
“Now let Master have his way. Whatever I like.” He nipple her lobe, mindful of her earring, and kissed a trail down her neck to her chest. There he stopped and stared. “Take off my clothes. Slowly.”
She didn’t speak, as instructed, and stripped him with gentle fingers, caressing him with all the love she felt inside. Maggie had lusted after Mac. She’d been aggravated, amused, and at turns pleased with him. But she’d never experienced this tenderness for him before, and she wanted to show him what she felt, deep inside. Her fear of a relationship, of commitment, had no place between them, not when this affection felt so right.
With loving hands, she removed the very last piece of clothing, his shirt. His cock had been stiff the entire time, and he looked huge in the light of the fire.
“Good girl.” He picked up the leash and tugged her closer. To her disappointment, he took it off her collar. “Put your hands behind your back.”
She did, and when he tied her hands with the leash, she shivered.
“That’s it. Good girl. You’re in Master’s hands now.” He kissed her and tugged the corset strap between her legs, rubbing against her clit and snaking it between her ass cheeks. “Yeah, that’s nice. You’re wet, aren’t you? Mmm. So pretty.” He leaned down and took her nipple in his mouth.
He bit down and she gasped, close to coming.
“Tell me, sub. Do you need to come? Are you close?”
“I’m close, Sir,” she whispered. “But I don’t need to come. I need you.”
He stared at her. “What do you need?”
“You inside me. Just you, Sir.”
Mac nodded and stepped away. He lay down on his back before the fire. “Come sit on my face.” He glanced at her as she walked. “Man, those heels kill me.”
She smiled and straddled his body, then slowly knelt over his face.
Mac didn’t remove the strap. The canny devil pulled it aside and sucked her clit hard. She rocked over him, needing desperately to come but not given permission to.
“Fuck. You’re so good. So wet,” he moaned and continued to eat her, sliding his fingers through her cream to lube her ass. He sucked and licked while his finger crept closer to anus, then penetrated.
Maggie was out of her mind. She tensed, trying hard not to explode.
“Please, Sir. I’m too close…”
Mac pushed her off his face. “On my cock. Ride me until you come,” he ordered in a gravelly voice.
She hurried to kneel over him while he held himself for her. She eased over him and moaned as his thick girth filled her full.
“Fuck me.” He stared at her breasts before gripping her nipples. “Up and down, you little slut. Ride Master like you mean it.” He pinched her, and she knew it wouldn’t take long. “That’s it. Take my cum. You know you need it. Spreading your legs for a big man. No small cock for you. Right, little sub?”
She moaned and threw her head back as she slammed down over him again and again.
“That’s it. Oh shit. Come on, baby. Come all over me. Fuck.”
He let go of one nipple to pinch her clit, and she cried his name as she exploded and ground over him.
Mac let her go and gripped her waist while he pulled her harder against him, coming into her with a shudder. “Fuck me. Oh yeah. Take it, Maggie. All of me into that tight cunt.”
“Yes, God, yes.”
They remained locked, her over him, him inside her, as she caught her breath. The corset’s tail bit against her ass, making it uncomfortable to move, but Maggie couldn’t believe how amazing their night had been.
Mac blinked his eyes open and released his tight hold on her hips. He moaned when she shifted.
“Don’t move,” he panted. “Shit. That… You…” He tugged her down by the collar and hugged her tight. “That’s nothing, sub.” He kissed her and shoved his tongue into her mouth, sweeping her into another wave of mindless desire. “We’re just getting started.”
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, Mac covered his eyes with his forearm to block the sunlight, feeling drunk. He’d come three times last night, and though he’d wanted to come some more, he’d been bone tired. The physical and emotional wrenching of his heart had made it hard to process anything more than showing Maggie how much he fucking loved her.
God, that look in her eyes when she’d seen the earrings. The damn things cost close to a grand, but he’d wanted her to have them. And then to get that artwork. He knew she’d made it. It had the same look and feel as her other pieces, but this one was exceptional. Even he, a dipshit with no artistic talent, could tell it was beautiful. And she’d wanted him to have, something personal she’d made.
That would have been the perfect time to tell her how he felt about her. If he’d had the stones. But then he’d pussed out and decided to wait. Only to be blown away by the sexiest woman on the face of the planet.
Fuck if he’d been able to think past the throbbing in his dick, in lust with his entire being. That teddy, the way it cut into her ass and rubbed her pussy. Her flush tits popping out of the top. Her waist had looked impossibly small, making her curves seem more pronounced. And those heels.
He was raring and ready to fuck again. Man he’d been hard-pressed to last the previous night. Talk about a Christmas present to end all gifts.
Mac turned on his side and stared at the wonder of his life. Maggie fucking Doran. He’d fallen in love with her. She complemented everything about him. Her needs fit his, her desires became his. That collar and leash.
He wondered if he should wait this morning or give it to her.
He’d not only had that weird artsy guy make her a killer set of earrings, but a matching choker embedded with a sapphire as well. A decorative collar that he and Maggie would know about but would look like simple jewelry to everyone else.
Mac wanted to keep her. Fuck. To have her, hold her, own her.
Love her.
But he needed to be able to offer her something. He had money he’d saved, but no real path for the future. The gym was temporary. She had her art to pursue, but what did he have except a sexy slave he wanted to keep? For the first time he questioned his worth. He’d found a woman worth holding, but would she want to stay? Eventually the spice and dirty talk and D/s shit might get old. What would they have together? Aside from the obvious physical chemistry, he liked everything about her. But did she like him without the sex?
He hated that he didn’t understand women. If he had, he’d have reasoned out what the hell he’d done to scare away his mother and Julie. But he didn’t know, and he didn’t think he could handle it if Maggie left him too.
Maybe he’d do better to take it slow. Though they’d been battling this coming together for months, only recently had they started to see each other for more than sex, but a relationship.
He was startled to realize she stared back at him.
“Good morning,” she whispered.
“Morning.”
She kissed him, and he kissed her back, prepared for the morning-after bullshit. Would she take back all the tender crap she’d fed him? Now that the holiday had ended and she’d gotten her present, was her enthusiasm for him gone?
Her kiss left soon after the thought, but instead of moving away from him, she continued to kiss down his body.
He tensed. “Maggie?”
“Let me,” she murmured against his belly.
She continued down his frame to his hard-on. When she breathed over his shaft, he moaned. But she skirted his dick and sucked his balls instead.
“Yeah, baby. That’s so good.” He put his hand in her hair and petted the soft blond waves over his belly. He’d dreamed about this, but the reality was so much better. She stroked him while she sucked his balls, and then her mouth covered him, and he forgot everything but Maggie.
She drew him deep, all the way to the back of her throat, and then she skated her finger under his balls and back, where she rimmed his ass.
The gentle touch, followed by her finger pushing deeper, pushed him past reason. For once he was helpless to control himself, and he flexed and pumped, shouting her name as he released down her throat.
It wasn’t until he finished that he realized he’d been gripping her by the hair.
He let her go, hazy from coming so hard, and tried to shake free of his euphoria. “Sorry, baby. But shit. That was amazing.”
She smiled at him, her eyes so blue he wanted to drown in them. “You liked it.”
“You think? I forgot my own damn name.”
She laughed and kissed him, and he tasted himself on her lips. So fucking sexy.
“Now who’s the master?” she teased.
But he answered honestly. “You are.”
Later in the day, after Maggie left Mac’s and hurried to shower before her brother realized she’d been sexing it up with “that Marine,” Maggie dried off and dressed before noticing the message on her home phone.
After playing it, she had to sit down. She played the message again. And again. Then she raced out the door to the gallery.
She came back home later, in shock and awe that her life seemed to be changing at the speed of light. She’d fallen in love with Mac, and though still alarmed about how much she cared for him, she’d decided to let it happen. Her brother prepared to live close, in Seattle. Her best friend had plans to get married, and the art buyer— who’d arrived a month early—interested in displaying her work at several of the galleries he owned up and down the East Coast wanted not just some, but all of the Maggie’s work Kim had at the store.
With his contacts, Kim had informed her excitedly, Maggie could stop working as a retailer and focus on making her art, not selling other people’s. She could do what she loved for a living.
Maggie didn’t know what to think. She was so stunned she feared jinxing the good news, so she decided to keep it under her hat until she inked the deal in a few days, just before New Year’s, when she’d accompany Evan Stringer back to Philadelphia to see his main gallery and talk figures.
More exciting than just having her own show was having Evan back her. He bought art for high end corporations. Fancy hotel lobbies and boardrooms. And he liked her style. He was talking maybe six figures to commission her talents, and from what he’d said, she would have full control of what she designed as long as it adhered to the color schemes the clients wanted. According to Kim, the man was fantastic, honest, and a hell of a businessman.
When Mac called to see what she was doing in the evening, she invited him over to hang out with her and Trevor. She wanted the pair to
get along and see them interact.
Unfortunately, she’d chosen the night’s entertainment poorly. The Scrabble game nearly ended in a fistfight…between her and her brother. She should have remembered how competitive he could get. The following night she tried to be on her best behavior, except Mac insisted on a rematch of game night, this time over some stupid rummy game with tiles. When he beat her twice and rubbed her nose in it, she went for his throat. Trevor had to pull her back because Mac was laughing too hard.
He had the nerve to call her a sore loser.
So the next night she left Trevor at home and met Mac at the gym, where she tried to wear him down in her step class. All the hard-corps steppers joined in, but Mac refused to fade. He did flag a bit in the end, so she counted it a win. But the people in her class acted as if he’d done the impossible by keeping up with her, and he acted victorious, which made the point of all that strenuous exercise moot.
Mac was still laughing when he walked her back to his office and shut the door behind them. “You’re a sore loser. I never would have expected that out of Ms. Sweetness and Light. This is too funny.” He pulled a bottle of water out of his mini-fridge and tossed it to her before grabbing one for himself.
“You know, I’m just trying to show you that you’re not better than me at everything.”
He looked surprised. “Who said I’m better? I’m stronger, sure, but you’re probably quicker. You’re definitely prettier. Smarter… not sure there, but you’re no dim bulb.”
“Thanks, ever so much.”
“And I’d have to say you give better head than I do.”
She deliberately misunderstood. “You’ve blown guys? Really?”
He scowled. “No, blondie. I meant you get me off better than I do you, orally. Jesus.”
She started laughing at the look of disgust on his face and couldn’t stop.
He stepped around her and locked the door, then fixed the shades on the windows on either side of it. This late at night, not many were at the gym. So why would he…?
He had that look in his eye, the one that told her she was about to get fucked. Hard.