Enough [Club Pleasure 7] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Allyson Young

  A cap popped and a whole bunch of viscous lube filled Jordan’s palm, squeezed from an enormous bottle. She could only imagine the kinds of things people got up to in this room and damned if she didn’t want to experience some of them, but only because it was just her and her Master.

  He applied the substance, warmed by his palm, to her pussy lips where it dripped down to coat her anus. A thick, latex-covered digit followed the path, pressing against her puckered entrance with steadfast intent until it pushed past the tight rings of muscle guarding her there. As always, that was the most difficult part, forcing herself to relax and facilitate the entry of a foreign object, but once he was through, the shard of pain turned to heated pleasure. Jordan teased the nerve-rich endings of her passage, and she clenched.

  “Ah, so little miss likes a finger in her bottom.”

  His comment, and the sight of him leering up at her from between the V of her thighs, a lecherous look on his handsome face, made her giggle and she fruitlessly tried to choke it back.

  Jordan slipped out of character and gave her a sunny smile—and shoved another finger in to seat beside the first. Her giggle died, unborn, and she whined with the slight discomfort and burgeoning lust.

  “Keep your eyes on me, wench. Something much bigger is going in this worried little hole very soon.”

  Panting through the addition of yet another finger, Emily begged and pleaded as best she could in what she hoped was a virginal manner. In response, her Dom lowered his head and licked up through her folds to twirl around her clit, those damned digits stretching her wider, pushing ever deeper. Abandoning her attempt to stay in character, Emily pleaded for Jordan to allow her to come, begging so loudly her voice bounced off the walls. Despite his lack of response, two wide digits filled her pussy and rubbed devilishly against her G-spot and the fingers in her ass. A final suckle on her clit forced her body to dance in place, the clamps pinching cruelly to fuel the spike of her orgasm, and she shattered.

  Screaming his name, her front and back channel clamping down so hard on his fingers that she shuddered at the overly full sensation, she became vaguely aware of a press of lips against her abdomen as her throbbing clit was surrounded by cooler air. It took forever for her to fill her chest again with enough oxygen to return to earth, and for her vision to clear. As Jordan withdrew, easing first from her ass then her pussy, she mourned her lack, then settled to bask in the afterglow.

  Water ran, and she heard the sound of a pump on a container and assumed he was washing up.

  “There is the little matter of your correction for disobedience.”

  Holy crap. Yanked from her post orgasmic bliss, Emily pried her eyes open and stared at Jordan, who was back standing between her legs. Correction for what? Coming without permission? But she was a virginal captive and didn’t know the rules!

  “You defied me earlier, little miss. You’ll learn to obey me instantly.”

  “I won’t do it again,” she pleaded.

  “You won’t,” he replied, agreeably, then gave the chain a little tug. Yowser.

  A crinkle of foil and another snap of latex punctuated his statement as he sheathed his cock. After checking her binds—another example of how careful he was with her, assuring they weren’t cutting off her circulation, he moved in closer. Pressing against the back of her thighs, the slick feel of leather rapidly heating her skin, she felt a renewed pressure at her anus.

  “Big breath, Emily.”

  Her eyes on his, she did as he said, and the big head of his cock popped through the initial resistance. Eyes tearing up, she breathed through discomfort and took heart at the passion and tenderness in his gaze.

  “Relax, sweetheart. You can take me. You’re stretched and the hardest part is over. Okay?”

  Nodding, she choked out a whispered agreement and went lax as he pushed deeper, retreating and thrusting in further every time. When his sac caressed the globes of her ass, he pushed her knees up, stroking against her passage so deeply she cried out at the tender assault. He fucked her in measured increments, the drag against the walls of her channel lighting up her senses in ways she couldn’t describe, but the sensations pulled whimpers and tiny moans past her quivering lips. With each heightened breath the clamps pinched her nipples and she reached for something, anything, to break the erotic tension.

  “Ask me, wench.” The guttural command ground from Jordan, his features taut with lust, eyes burning with enough heat to fry her circuits.

  “Please, Sir.” At the shake of his head, she tried again. “Please, Master. I need…please.”

  The flurry of thrusts he unleashed both made her ache and spiral higher, nearing another mind-blowing climax, when he popped both clamps free, the shards of agony driving straight to her clit where it throbbed in vain. He somehow arched back and a digit inserted into her quivering pussy. A press of her little bundle of nerves between two of his fingers released the pressure as if from a wildly shaken bottle of soda, and Emily’s throat protested her screams of pleasure. Jordan roared out his own orgasm, shuddering against her, his cock jerking to batter deep within. He sagged for a moment before lifting up, easing out of her body. Emily was unable to contain a moan and heard him move quickly to dispose of the condom before returning to release her, massaging the long muscles of her thighs, stroking down to her calves.

  “Hang on, sweetheart.” He adjusted the stirrups to support her straightened legs, then stepped away, coming back with a warm cloth to clean her. A soft fabric was then drifted over her, and he scooped her up, holding her high against his chest where his steady heartbeat soothed her.

  A few steps later they were in that room with the big bed, not his quarters. Emily speculated, in the aftermath of two insane orgasms, if she would ever see her Master’s quarters. Jordan laid her down and then rummaged in the drawer of the nightstand.

  Turning her on her side, he urged her to draw her knees up to her chest, and she felt his rough hand spread her buttocks.

  “A little sting, Emily.”

  Something cool dripped over her bottom hole and inside, and she hissed at the sensation before it passed and became numb.

  “You’ll know you had my cock in here, little miss.” Jordan coaxed her to lie on her back and turned his attention to her breasts, as she smiled at his effort to complete the scene.

  “Did they have nipple clamps back then?”

  “They had things we’ve adapted for use in today’s world, sweetheart. And some we wouldn’t even use in a Club. Except for maybe the hard dungeon.”

  She quivered at the sober note in his tone, glad her Master’s sadistic side was limited to her suffering orgasm denial or sore nipples, maybe a stretched bottom hole. The gel he coated her tender buds with cooled the nagging discomfort, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You please me, Emily.”

  “Not such a hardship,” she murmured, and closed her eyes to let sleep take her.

  * * * *

  Not a hardship indeed. Jordan shucked his clothes and stretched out beside his submissive. It had been an amazing scene, and Emily responded to anal sex the way he hoped she would. He’d planned to fist her, introduce her to the immense pleasure of that particular sexual act, but wanted to see her face when he fucked her ass, so took advantage of her position on the table with its convenient stirrups. And he’d worn her out. He wasn’t feeling terribly energetic himself. The blow job was to have taken the edge off, not been so fulfilling, and he hadn’t expected to come so freaking hard in her ass. She undid him, and the feeling wasn’t as unsettling as he expected.

  Coasting on the edge of slumber, he decided to offer Emily the collar he’d purchased, a sign he wanted to extend their exclusivity and make her his permanent Club submissive. He thought she would agree and reflected on the convenience, pushing away the niggle of conscience suggesting it also reeked of selfishness. He’d be good to her, and for her, and give her no reason to regret their association. She was an intelligent, lovely sub who had come to u
nderstand her role in his life, and it suited him to collar her.

  She had a ways to go in her self-actualization, and he’d provide the stability, the predictability in her life, teach her how to maintain a solid relationship. When it came time for her to move on, her heart would be unfettered, and those less-than-agreeable behaviors negated and under control. Suddenly aware his future plans for Emily had taken on an unpalatable flavor, but unwilling to examine it, he turned his thoughts to the upcoming holidays. He had no intention of going home this year and wondered if his submissive had any plans.

  Emily murmured in her sleep and shuffled closer to cuddle against his chest. He looped an arm over her waist to hold her more tightly, breathing in the scent of her hair and enjoying the satin feel of her skin. Her slender little body was capable of amazing passion, and she received him with such openness. Jordan ruthlessly suppressed his arousal. She’d need a warm bath when she awoke, the reason he’d chosen this particular room with its huge attached bathroom and Jacuzzi tub, not more sexual attention.

  Pressing a kiss against the top of her head, he napped, aware they had hours before the Club opened and his services would be required.

  Chapter Five

  Her days flashed by. Emily enjoyed her job even more, celebrating her students’ successes, supporting them through the difficult times, and noticed how her colleagues treated her differently. They’d always been standoffish, no doubt a result of her mercurial mood swings and attitude, but more than one of them remarked on how happy she’d become. She didn’t put all her energy into teaching, but shared it with those around her—and with Jordan. The balance didn’t detract from her role as an educator. It enhanced it. But she longed for her evenings with her Master.

  Emily even replied to a few e-mails from her family, although she was careful to establish personal boundaries and hardly ready to confront her mother in particular with her angst from the past. But she no longer felt the need to hide behind the common name of Brown, her grandmother’s maiden name, and one she’d chosen to present an anonymous identity upon entering college. Oh, she wasn’t ready to return to Prentiss, but the fear of being recognized and treated as a victim diminished as she came to learn about herself separate from the binds of trauma and actually like the person she discovered.

  Her growth and change was definitely the result of her connection with Jordan—Master Jordan, and her willingness to trust him and try. With his guidance and support, combined with the unleashing of her sexuality, no matter it might be considered kinky, Emily had let go of the shadow of her past and was embracing the here and now.

  There was one disturbing fact she ignored to the best of her ability, refusing to take note of it unless it was too up in her face. She was falling for her Dom, falling in love with him. At first she tried to brush it off, thinking her possessiveness and desire for him was the result of how she ceded control and how he rewarded her because of that concession. But it went deeper the more time she spent with him, although she tried to fight it, because she intuited it could end badly.

  Of late, the scenes in the Club and visits to other members’ homes had broadened to include candlelight dinners, impromptu little trips to share things they found they had in common, and some other things couples did together. Jordan had cancelled one evening via Patrick, and the owner of the Club advised her that her Dom was down with the flu. Jordan was not pleased that his boss had told her, but Emily ignored his protests. She took vacation time and moved in with him with Master Patrick’s blessing, taking care of Jordan until he was back on his feet again.

  There wasn’t a whole lot of vocal appreciation shown, and she’d known how disgruntled he’d been, but he’d let her see his vulnerable side, allowed her to change his sheets, bathe his fevered brow, and bring him his medication and foods he could eat. It was enough to even be allowed in his quarters.

  Then there was the matter of the holidays. She had no inclination to return home this year, despite her softening toward her family, and it appeared Jordan, too, was at loose ends, because he suggested a trip to Galveston. By mutual accord they didn’t exchange gifts, but the walks along the winter ocean, bundled up against the chill, followed by lazy, vanilla sex in the evenings, made her season complete.

  They remained exclusive, although he worked with couples and Emily had to accept he laid hands on those other submissives. She just didn’t think about it much, other than to consider he was providing a service.

  Many things changed around Pleasure, too. Elise married Ross, and it made Emily’s heart ache with happiness for her friend—their relationship improved tenfold, and it paved the way for Emily to connect with other women. Master Jonathon made Lois his own, then rocked the Club with the addition of Master Trevor, who was apparently a bad boy third, into their relationship. A true ménage. Emily really liked Lois and saw the truth behind the formidable appearance of her Doms. They were nothing but big, tender sweeties for their submissive.

  A pair of brothers, fresh out of the service, had been hired to replace Master Jon, and were in big demand. Emily found Owyn and Rees nearly as scary as she’d initially found Master Jon, and the rumor was they worked individually, but preferred to share. As exciting as the idea of having two men pleasuring her might be, it was really only that—an idea. Jordan was more than enough for her.

  Master Patrick’s wife somehow took the initiative to get pregnant again, creating chaos, because of the fear Madi could die—her first two pregnancies had been terrible, and she’d tricked Patrick into the second one, too. All because she believed it was what he craved and needed, a big family. Emily could understand the other woman’s thinking, because she knew she’d do anything for Jordan, too. But it made Patrick crazy, and he took Madi and the children to her family where she could be better supported, leaving Jon to run the Club. Jordan carried a good part of the load, to help Jon, yet always had time for her.

  There was a rumor about a submissive being “detained” at Pleasure, with Masters Jon, Maurice, Owyn and Rees’s knowledge, as well as Jordan’s, but Emily hadn’t pressed for more details. She respected her Master, and knew he’d share with her what he felt necessary for her to know. That didn’t mean she wasn’t wildly curious however, and she saw some of the other submissives exchange inquisitive glances before subsiding when their Doms looked askance.

  Altogether it was like one big, somewhat dysfunctional family, yet a family who took care of its members, and Emily should have felt part of it. But she didn’t. Oh, all the submissives were nice to her, and the Doms would have her back without question, but it seemed everyone was living a happily ever after and she was so aware of her own temporary status. Because she had Jordan, even temporarily, she was mostly content, and watching and hoping for signs he might feel deeper emotions for her, taking heart when he looked at her in a certain way or said things to give her optimism.

  She wore his collar, a lovely thing he referenced as a training collar, although it didn’t look anything like the plainer collars other subs in training wore. He’d offered it after their holiday trip, informally, with no ceremony, and she understood her role clearly, although it didn’t change her feelings for him. Being a permanent Club submissive was definitely different than a permanent submissive. But still she dreamed. Until the night when Olivia and her Master came to visit Pleasure.

  “Hi. Can I sit with you?”

  A tall, slender brunette walked up to Emily and gestured at the empty space beside her. Jordan was completing a training session that had gone late, and so Emily was marking time in the lounge area, considering what sexual appetizers the evening might have in store. Her Master would be worked up from the scene he was supervising, and Emily had long ago decided to reap those benefits, secure in her awareness that his real interest would be in her.

  “Sure.” She shuffled over a little, tugging her short skirt down over her thighs.

  “I’m Olivia Fraser.”

  “Emily Brown.”

  “You’re Master J
ordan’s submissive.”

  Hearing the label pass the other woman’s lips made Emily feel warm all over. She belonged to Jordan for the time being, and it was apparent other people knew it, although she hadn’t met Olivia before. She said as much.

  “Oh, we don’t live in Austin anymore. But when my husband has business here—he and Master Trevor are partners—we always plan to stop by Pleasure.”

  Jordan hadn’t mentioned Master Trevor having a partner other than Jon and for a moment Emily had to regroup. “Oh, you mean business partner.”

  On a charming trill of laughter, Olivia replied, “Uh-huh. Cameron doesn’t share. Me either.”

  Emily smiled back then struggled for something to talk about. She wasn’t innately shy, but there was something about this beautiful woman that bothered her. Then it came to her. She’d seen her before, but without clothing—that night Master Jordan had introduced her to the flogger, a while ago.

  “Jordan trained me, too. He’s a wonderful Master.”

  Unable to read anything other than honest appreciation for her Dom’s skills in Olivia’s voice, Emily still wrestled with a niggling concern, but nodded her head in agreement. After all, Jordan had worked with many subs before her. “He is.”

  “How long—” Whatever Olivia was going to ask was cut off when Jordan loomed over them, that unforgettable look on his face, the one she’d noted the night she’d first seen Olivia. Then he scanned the room, and his features softened and relaxed into something very different, something that reached clear into Emily’s chest and squeezed her heart with savage indifference.

  “Olivia. So good to see you.” Jordan offered his hand, and Olivia placed her delicate one into it. Emily curled both of hers into two tight little balls and somehow didn’t tuck them under her thighs to hide her no nonsense manicure, wishing she’d taken the time to have her nails done professionally. She felt as though she needed every advantage.