by Abby Gordon
Francine woke in what was quickly becoming their customary position—she was tucked against him, his right bicep beneath her head and his left arm around her waist holding her to him. His left leg was usually over at least her right leg, if not both. As if he was afraid she’d slip out of bed and out of the room. As if! She snuggled back against his chest. And felt the butt plug when she shifted. He’d put in the largest one, telling her that the next thing in her ass would be his cock.
Preparing her, he’d pulled her to all fours on the bed and fucked her from the rear. Clutching the pillows, she closed her eyes and felt herself overcome by orgasms ripping through her. It had been the most erotic so far. And, she held her breath, he was still in her. Every other time, he’d pulled out before falling asleep. Ironically, after the brief argument, it was as if they’d gained a new level of trust between them. This time, saying he wanted to be inside her without barriers, he’d forgone the condom.
As if sensing the thought, he rolled to his back, his softened penis slipping free of her heat. His arm held her close to him. She smiled. It was as if even though his cock was out of her, he had to make sure she was near enough to possess.
Closing her eyes, she fought the emotions. He didn’t like emotions. She’d figured that out quickly. And, as he’d reminded her more than once, they were together only for sex. She would never know his name and if they did, by some wild coincidence, run into each other, she would have to pretend she didn’t know him. How the hell she was supposed to act like she didn’t know the man who’d possessed her body in every way possible was beyond her, but she knew she would have to. She would have to be the Ice Queen Kevin had called her. Otherwise, she would fall at his feet and beg him to fuck her where they were. She could imagine the look of horror on his face at such a display. He’d obviously had to deal with women like that and would hate any further publicity.
She nibbled her lower lip. There was something familiar about him, similar to someone she knew. She tried to remember, but couldn’t. She couldn’t remember seeing him in the papers the last few years, but then, she reminded herself, not every CEO courted publicity the way Trump did. She frowned. Why was she so sure he was a CEO or something?
Because of the way he acted, moved, thought and carried himself. She’d been around enough to know that there was something indefinable about men who had a certain power, money, breeding and education. Which left her out of his circle entirely. She’d had to spill the beans about not graduating from high school. Oh, that was smart! He’d probably already known and been testing her to see if she would make something up to impress him. At least he knew she wouldn’t lie to him, she sighed.
The chances of her ever running into him again were slim to none. Unless she turned stalker or something. She grinned. She could always ask Rose or Heather if they knew him. Although trying to find out about a man when she didn’t know his first name would be hard to explain. Rose was so focused on making Brody pay for his treatment of Lily, and Heather was so busy keeping Rose and Jasmine out of trouble that neither would be of much help. Certainly she couldn’t ask Jasmine.
Jasmine. Francine nearly groaned. Good lord, that girl could get into trouble just by walking across the street. Jasmine, Francine thought darkly, would benefit from someone like master. Not this man, but her own.
That brought her thoughts back to the man holding her. It didn’t make much sense. Barely twenty-four hours ago she had been convinced all men were worthless assholes and she’d be better off becoming a nun. One man had turned her world upside-down and broken her heart. Another had shown her a world she’d never dreamt of, and a hunger in herself that she’d never imagined. Erotic, dark and sweet.
She sighed, knowing that she only had a few more hours with him. The entire adventure would be nothing more than something to dream about as she played with her vibrator.
But she would make damn sure she got something from every minute left.
Reaching a hand down, she brushed his penis and smiled as it twitched to life.
“You remember what I said earlier?” a husky voice asked.
A shiver of delicious anticipation raced up and down her spine.
“Yes, master,” she whispered. “You said that next time I touched your cock without permission that you would spank me and…”
“Fuck your ass,” he growled as her fingers wrapped around the hard length now jutting up from its bed of dark hair. “While you were gagged, blindfolded, and had a dildo in your pussy.”
“Yes, master.” She swallowed. This was it. She would be at his complete sexual mercy. Her pussy clenched as moisture flooded it. Her nipples tightened. “I understand.”
“Get on the spanking bench, slave,” he ordered.
“Yes, master.”
He lifted his arm and leg and she scrambled off the bed.
Chapter Seven
Through the partially open door, Grant watched her drape her body over the upper support of the spanking bench in the middle of the room. Dylan had thought he was insane when he’d ordered a silk cover. As much as he’d used the apparatus, silk had been an excellent idea. The woman loved it! Leather would have been too much for her delicate skin. He hadn’t spanked her so hard that marks lasted more than half an hour, but the way she wriggled told him how hot it made her. Control and discipline with a sub were key. Slowly getting out of bed, he went to the bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet and saw the clock.
Only four hours left. He had her only four more hours. He couldn’t believe the time had gone so quickly. Once he fucked her ass he’d done everything he’d planned, But he wanted to do more. He wanted…
Flushing the toilet, he scowled and shook his head. No! He was not going to go down that road. This was a one-time thing. Fling. Affair. Whatever the term was. It would be over in four hours.
Soaking a washcloth, he grabbed a towel on his way out. Striding through the bedroom, he paused in the doorway. And felt his cock rise, ready to go again.
She turned her head to look at him and smiled. “Am I in the right position, master?”
Nodding, he went behind her and pulled the plug out.
She sighed as he cleaned her ass. “I never thought a man cleaning my ass before he fucked me there would be so…”
“So what?”
“It’s almost as intimate as the actual act,” she said softly. “I’m not sure how else to describe it.”
Tossing the washcloth and towel toward the door, he secured her ankles and wrists to the brackets. Smiling, he went to the cabinet and got the items he needed—blindfold, gag, dildo, harness, and lubricant. And the paddle.
“Such a sweet slave,” he whispered. “But you’ve been disobedient, haven’t you?” Her body trembled as he ran his hand down her back. “You’ve talked back, teased me, touched my cock when I told you not to, and argued with me.”
She shook her head.
“Yes, you did. I like a sub with spirit and intelligence, but that was going a bit too far. We’re almost out of time, sweetheart,” he murmured in her ear. “And there’s one thing left to do.” He held the dildo before her eyes.
She moaned, realizing it was nearly as large as his erection. And when he fucked her ass? She could see the anticipation in his eyes.
“It will be as close to two men fucking you as it can get,” he told her. His teeth nipped her ear. “But I’ll be the only one to hear your moans and screams of pleasure.”
He tapped her ass with the dildo. “I’m going to fuck your ass.”
She nodded.
“Do you remember the first thing I did to you on the bench?”
Another nod.
“Brace yourself, sweetheart. I’m going to spank you until you have four orgasms, then I’m fucking your ass.”
She pressed her cheek against the support. Instinct told her that this would be the last time he fucked her. She wanted to savor every second of it. She wanted to have it all so implanted in her mind that she could reenact it and relive every touch.
“Deep breath,” he told her. “Relax as you exhale. Push out slightly.”
Closing her eyes, she focused and did as he’d said. She felt her body resist under the steady pressure. Then the dildo slipped past the outer ring of muscle and was fully in her. In seconds, he secured it with the harness. She took a shuddering breath, marveling at how full she felt. And when his erection was there? And he was thrusting in and out of her? She moaned.
“Master?”
“Very good, sweetheart,” he said quietly, picking up the blindfold. She held her breath as he covered her eyes. When he pressed the ball against her lips, she opened her mouth and felt him fasten the strap against her hair. He was careful not to catch any stray strands in the catch.
“Now, don’t think of anything but what your body is feeling.”
The paddle smacked her right cheek, startling her out of the haze. Francine struggled to breathe as the spankings came harder and faster than anything he’d done in their time together. What was happening? Had she done something wrong after all? Unable to say her safe word, she wriggled her head, hoping he’d stop or change.
As if realizing what was happening, he changed the tempo and intensity. As she’d learned to do, she inhaled slowly, held it a few seconds and exhaled. He must have done that to make her focus, or to get her attention or to remind her just who was in charge. As if she could forget that! Her lips curved around the ball as she slipped back into the erotic haze.
The dildo in her pussy began to tremble and she tightened her muscles around it. She moaned as it heated up and vibrated more. She rubbed her clit against the silk, not caring if he saw and didn’t like it. She was just on the edge and…
A perfectly placed smack and she was soaring. Even as she saw stars beneath the blindfold, he was pushing her higher. Gasping, she fought for air. For sanity. For something real to hold onto. That was as impossible as unwanted. With a muffled cry, she felt the heat overwhelm her again. She trembled, sobbing at the adrenaline surging through her body.
To her overcharged brain, there seemed to be a brief respite. If there was, it was only a few seconds. Then he was working her body again. A hand caught her nipple and pinched. The new sensation jolted her mind and body and her pussy took over. Another orgasm swept through her and she struggled to breathe. A caress along her back, soft, soothing. Then the paddle came down just above her anus.
Francine’s body came off the bench as every muscle tightened. She landed, panting. Some part of her was aware of him pulling the dildo out of her ass. She heard him ripping open a condom packet. Covered with lube, his finger circled her small hole, then slid fully in before pulling out of her. This was it. She took the deep breaths as he’d told her to. His hands were on her hips and she felt the tip brush her anus.
As if from a distance, coming through a water-filled tunnel, she heard his voice.
“Mine, sweetheart. You’re fucking mine.”
He pushed his cock into her ass and she gasped. Thank God he’d prepared her using the plugs! Slowly, inch by filling inch, he stretched her. Instinctively, her muscles clamped around him to keep him out. She wanted him to do this, but couldn’t help her reaction.
“Another deep breath and push out,” he reminded her.
Obeying, she felt the muscles relax. She moaned as his cock pushed all the way in. For a long moment, he didn’t move as her body adjusted. Small spasms rippled through her. She felt his mouth on her shoulder and relaxed completely. This was her master. He wouldn’t hurt her. He would only give her pleasure even as he pushed her sexually.
“That’s my girl.” His deep voice wrapped around her.
Holding her hips still, he stroked in and out of her. With the dildo in her pussy, there wasn’t much wiggle room and she couldn’t believe how the sensations played off each other. She was stuffed like…her brain shut down, refusing to work, unable to process everything that was happening to the body. The body just accepted what he was doing, knowing it would feel good. No, it would feel greater than anything in paradise.
She hadn’t thought she could have an orgasm when fucked in the ass. Now, as his cock stretched and filled her, the dildo vibrating madly in her pussy, she knew she was going to. And the way things were building up, this was going to be the biggest one she’d ever had.
His heavy body rested on hers a moment.
“Baby, you are so damn sexy,” he groaned. “Your ass is as tight and sweet inside as it is outside.” The gag was pulled out of her mouth and tossed aside. “I want to hear you scream as you come, sweetheart. I want to hear your pleasure.”
She panted, trying to fill her lungs. He pulled out and rammed back in. She cried out, knowing she couldn’t handle much more, yet wanting everything he could give her. His hand went to her clit.
“What do you want?” he asked. “What do you want?”
“Fuck me,” she begged. “Please. Fuck my ass. My pussy. My mouth. Wherever you want. Please, master.”
“Oh, yes,” he growled. “My sweet slave.”
His fingers rubbed her clit and she gasped. It was coming. She was coming and… She felt as if she’d touch a live high voltage wire. From head to toe, her body tingled and her muscles suddenly clenched, then the massive energy was released. Throwing her head back, she screamed as the orgasm tore through her body. He wasn’t finished and with each stroke, new ripples rushed through her. With a final heave, his dick pulsed, filling the condom. He practically collapsed on top of her.
“Oh, yeah,” he murmured. “God, you are a sweet piece.”
Murmuring incoherently, she sighed and felt satisfied exhaustion take over.
She didn’t remember him working the buckles to free her wrists and ankles. Or the way he pulled the dildo from her pussy, teasing her clit and giving her another orgasm. In the haziness of a dream, she remembered him carrying her to the shower and carefully, almost tenderly, washing her from head-to-toe. He rubbed lotion all over her, gently combed out her long hair and held her as she drifted off to sleep.
****
Francine blinked, waking slowly. The first thing she noticed was that she was alone in bed. It was cold. She opened her eyes and looked towards the bathroom. The door was open and it was dark. Fighting back reality, she sat up. Seeing the two women from before, she bit back a protest, a denial. There was no point. It was over. In a daze, she stood and let them dress her. She stepped into her shoes and let them lead her down the hallway. Without a word, they put her in the elevator and entered a code.
Tears filled her eyes as she felt the elevator move. He hadn’t said goodbye. He hadn’t wanted to… Biting her lower lip, she struggled to hold back the sobs that threatened. She would not cry. She would not break down over a man whose name she didn’t even know.
The doors opened and she saw the Lexus, the passenger door open. Whimpering, wishing she could somehow go back to the two rooms where she’d found heaven, she forced her feet to move. The door closed behind her and the car moved forward.
When the car stopped, the door opened and she saw that they were in the hotel’s parking area. The driver extended his hand to help her out, and put her purse in her lifeless hands.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Take care of yourself, miss.”
Nodding, she went toward the elevator, feeling like she was sleepwalking.
Securing her room door, she stumbled to the bedroom. Pulling her dress off, she collapsed on the bed.
And the tears came. Great, big, huge, gasping sobs racked her body. Her fingers scrabbled at the bedspread, pulling it over her chilled body. She clutched the pillow to her chest and curved over it as the grief took over.
This hurt more than Kevin’s betrayal; this gutted her. She couldn’t imagine feeling more pain than what she was feeling at that moment.
&nbs
p; Chapter Eight
Monday afternoon, Grant fastened his seatbelt, opened his briefcase and stared at the folders inside. Around him, other first class passengers settled into their seats. Reviewing German contracts was about the last thing he wanted to do. He knew the importance of the deal he was about to close, but he sure as hell didn’t want to be doing it just then.
All he wanted to do was instruct Francine on being his submissive. He wanted to see her body draped over the spanking bench, or spread out on the St. Andrew’s cross, or his bed. He wanted to put her in the sling and play with the pulleys until she was just the right height for whatever he wanted to do to her. He wanted to see his cock disappear into her—mouth, pussy or ass, it didn’t matter. He’d fuck her until they were both satisfied, and then he’d curl around her sweet body and feel her relax in his arms as she slept. He wanted to talk to her about his business deal, about her next shoot, about…
He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
“You okay, there, buddy?” the man next to him asked, leaning forward slightly. “’Cause you don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine,” he managed to reply. “Fine, just a bit of a headache all of a sudden.”
“My wife gets those,” the older man offered. “Especially this time of year with the cold. The humidity drives her crazy.” He caught the attention of the first-class steward. “You have any mint tea? And honey? This man’s got a bit of a headache.”
“Of course, Mr. Nelson,” she nodded. “Mr. Franklin? Are you all right?”
“Fine,” he replied, wishing he could hear another voice worried about him.
Sipping the tea out of politeness, Grant watched the ground crew load the last suitcases. She would be worried about him. She would want to take care of him. Fix him something to eat or drink. Rub his temples or… He smiled, glad he wasn’t facing the cabin. She would rub something else to get his mind off his headache. That or distract him in some other way.