by Roz Lee
He was grateful to the woman. She’d given him insights he never would have found on his own, and she’d stepped in to help Brooke, too, when he’d been at a loss as to how to proceed with her. Their relationship had never been better. He owed a debt of gratitude to Mistress Lola. But that didn’t mean he owed her Brooke.
She’s mine.
Something Jason Holder had said to him after the dinner at their house weeks ago, came back to him. “I can’t believe you haven’t collared that woman, man.” The Mustangs’ catcher went on to say how he’d wasted no time slapping a collar and an engagement ring on his woman the minute he’d come to his senses and realized he couldn’t live without her.
Shit. He’d been so busy putting temporary marks on her, he’d ignored the one thing he considered permanent. He needed a collar and a ring—fast.
Todd stalked out to the field. Players dotted the diamond in various stages of warm-up. He scanned the familiar forms, looking for one in particular. Finding him, he jogged over.
“Jason.”
“Hey, Todd.” The man straightened from a stretching exercise. “What’s up?”
Todd glanced around, noted a few others nearby. He cocked his head toward a deserted area of the outfield. “Can we talk?”
“Sure.” Stretching his arms as he walked, he followed Todd out onto the grass. They stopped in shallow left field. “Everything okay?”
“Fuck, no, everything’s not okay.” Todd pawed the grass with the toe of his practice cleats. “I need a collar and a ring. Any idea where I can get them in this town?”
Jason slugged him on the arm. Smiling, he said, “Gonna take the plunge, huh, old man? It’s about time.”
“Yeah, well, I might have waited too long.”
“What the fuck, man? Don’t tell me you let another man get near your woman.”
Todd shook his head. He really didn’t want to get into this right now. “Not a man. A woman.”
“That Domme you’ve been seeing? The one who put those marks on Brooke?”
“That one. We’ve had some intense sessions with her. They’ve helped our relationship, but the last time, I swear, the bond between the two of them threw me. I’ve got to do something fast before I lose her.”
He would have killed Jason if he’d seen an ounce of pity on the man’s face. Thankfully, all he saw was understanding. “Brooke loves you. Everyone can see she’s devoted to you. A woman that endures what she did….” He shook his head. “She was proud of those marks, man, and rightfully so. She’ll accept your collar and your ring.”
God, he hoped Jason was knew what he was talking about. There would never be anyone else for him, only Brooke. “I hope you’re right. So you have any ideas?”
“Come on.” Todd fell in beside his friend as he headed toward the clubhouse. “I think I have a card in my wallet. The jeweler who made Carrie’s set keeps a bunch of stuff in stock. Maybe she can overnight you a collar. Phoenix has some good jewelry stores.”
“How do you pick out a ring?” He knew exactly what kind of collar he wanted, but he was ready to break out in a cold sweat just thinking about picking out a diamond.
“Want Carrie to go with you? She knows Brooke as well as anyone.”
Relief felt like a cool shower. “That would be great. You sure she won’t mind?”
Jason held the door for him then followed him into the cool interior. He smirked. “Believe me, the woman never turns down a chance to shop. At least this time, she’ll be spending your money instead of mine.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
He was dying. From the moment he’d walked in the door, his slave had done nothing but serve his needs. There was one, however, she couldn’t take care of. Not yet anyway. He needed to make her his forever, but until he had the collar and ring in hand, symbols to back up the words, he wouldn’t ask her.
Instead, he ached. When she met him at the door, offering him her body and her service, he took everything greedily. He unzipped and took her against the back of the door, fast and hard. She seemed as eager as he. Her slit was wet and ready, a fact he didn’t want to think too hard about. She’d spent time with Diane, Mistress Lola, today. Thinking Brooke’s arousal might have been for someone else besides him drove him to the brink. Their coupling had been anything but gentle. His fault, not hers.
Yet she served him dinner, the scent of their juices slicking her thighs overpowering the chef’s salad and crusty bread. Watching her clear the counter then plate the dessert—another experimental cake—he needed her again.
“I’ll try the cake later,” he said. “Come here.”
Setting the slices aside, she rounded the bar, going to her knees at his feet.
“How was your day? Did you see Diane?” Why he used the woman’s real name, he didn’t know. Perhaps thinking of her as Mistress Lola made the ladies’ lunch date seem sexual.
“Yes, Master. We had lunch downtown. Then I came home to bake and get ready for you.”
“It’s been a while since we had an evening at home, just the two of us.”
“It has, Sir. Is there anything you would like to do?”
He knew what he really wanted to do, but he’d already determined he’d wait until he had the symbols in hand for that. There were other ways to declare her as his. “I want to put my mark on you, slave.”
She shivered at his feet. “I want that, too, Sir.”
“Good.” He stood. “I’m going to put on my leathers. Clear the coffee table and lay down on it, face first.”
Oh, God.
Brooke removed the remote control, a magazine she’d picked up to read, and the decorative glass bowl. The heavy wood and glass coffee table was undoubtedly the sturdiest piece of furniture in the place next to the king-sized bed that took up nearly the entire Master bedroom. The table would easily hold her weight. That wasn’t the problem.
There had been an edge to her Master’s voice she hadn’t heard in a long time. She loved that edge. In the past, it’d signaled good things for her. The deepest scenes she’d ever experienced at her Master’s hands had come when he used that tone of voice with her.
Even though he’d provided her a satisfying release earlier, she was wet with anticipation. She tugged the piece of furniture to the center of the room before lying facedown on top. The wood edging was hard against her cheek, the glass cold as stone on her nipples. He’d chosen this surface instead of their soft bed for a reason. Focusing on her discomfort, she let it seep into her. It was all part and parcel of her subservience. If her Master wanted her to suffer, suffer she would—with as much dignity as she could muster.
He returned a few minutes later, silently securing her wrists and ankles to the corner posts. The restraints prevented her from relieving the pressure on her breasts. He wasn’t playing tonight. The thought both excited and frightened her. Her Master didn’t often lean toward sadistic scenes, and this one had Sadist written all over it.
She fought back her rising fear as he tied her hair back, using several bands along the length of her ponytail to keep stray strands from getting tangled with the toys he would use on her. When he knelt and pressed a ball gag to her lips, she choked back panic. Does he know what Mistress Lola and I talked about earlier today? Is that what this is all about?
Accepting the gag, she looked into his eyes, finding the reassurance she needed there. There was no rage, no madness, only love. He pressed a piece of cloth in each of her hands, closing her fingers over them.
“If you need me to stop, open your hands. I’ll see the flags.”
That was the only warning she received before leather rained down on her back. The first blows were to warm her skin, light but hard enough she felt them. She closed her eyes, absorbing the love behind each throw.
He must have talked to Mistress. How else would he know, tonight of all nights, she needed this demonstration of his love. That she needed him to mark her, to show the world she was his. How could he have known she needed to give herself to him in thi
s way?
The blows came faster and harder. At one point, he changed to another flogger, something with wicked points on the ends that bit into her skin. She couldn’t be sure, but she wouldn’t be surprised if she bled.
From shoulders to ankles, he claimed her. Blow after blow, she endured. She was beyond aroused. That came with the first stinging contact. At some point, she drifted past the pain to a place where all she felt was love and the need to give everything she was, body and soul, to her Master. It was the place she’d only been to one other time—when Mistress Lola had whipped her. Her submission shined, brilliant, in her mind. Master Todd loved her enough to take her to the place she needed to go, and at what cost to himself? Love for her Master swelled in her heart.
When the blows stopped, she felt as if she floated above the table. Every cell in her body was hyper-aware. Her pussy throbbed with the need to feel as much as the rest of her did. Then his hand was there, cupping her. His thumb slid into her. His finger found her clit. She lifted her hips, seeking closer contact. A heavy hand on the small of her back pressed her down while the other hand worked her pussy.
“Come for me, babe.”
God, his voice sounded like it had been dragged across broken glass. The sharp edges of the command slashed away any semblance of control she might have held onto. The tender endearment protected her heart when she shattered.
Todd released her bonds then lifted her into his arms. After laying her on her stomach on the bed, he stripped and crawled in with her. Carefully rolling her to her side, he propped pillows at her back then snuggled against her front, giving her his heat.
She murmured something that sounded like, “I love you,” before she tucked her head into his shoulder and slept.
He’d have to tend to her back as soon as she woke. He hadn’t broken the skin, but she would wear the evidence of his handiwork for a long time to come. Satisfaction warred with concern. God, he loved seeing his marks on her skin, but the crazy need to possess her that had been with him all day drove him to mark her like he’d never done before.
That she curled into him like a kitten seeking shelter afterward humbled him. With one arm tucked under her neck, he cradled her head with the other. He pressed his lips to the top of her head. There would be plenty of time later to castigate himself for needing to possess her in this way. For now, he would care for her with a tenderness that exceeded the violence he’d inflicted on her.
I don’t deserve you, baby, but I can’t let you go either. Whatever it takes to keep you, babe. Whatever it takes.
Brooke hurt all over, yet the dull ache in her bones was nothing in the face of the revelation she awoke to. Her Master had taken her to that place. Instantly, her thoughts turned to him. Was he dealing with what he’d done? Did he regret his actions?
Please, God, no. She struggled against whatever bindings held her.
“Shh, babe. I’ve got you.”
His smooth voice calmed her. “Master.” Wakening fully, she recognized the feel of him wrapped around her, protecting her.
“Is there anything you need before I see to your back?”
“Water, please, Sir.”
“I’ll get you some.” He continued to hold her head in the strong cradle of his arm. “I was brutal with you. Are you okay?”
“More than okay, Sir.” She noticed he didn’t apologize, just stated the facts. She hoped that meant he wasn’t sorry for what he’d done. She couldn’t bear it if he was when she had loved every stripe he’d placed on her. “Thank you.”
He placed a kiss on the top of her head and slipped out from under her. “Don’t move. I’ll get you something to drink then I’ll put some salve on your back.” Before he left, he pulled the sheet up to her shoulders.
She drifted again, only opening her eyes when the mattress dipped as he sat beside her. He offered her a sports drink through a straw, and she drank until he pulled it away. “Not too much all at one time.”
“I’m fine, Master.” She couldn’t help but smile at his coddling.
“You haven’t seen your back, or you wouldn’t be saying that.”
“I can feel it.” She rose to her forearms, flexing her shoulders so the sheet rode down past her shoulder blades. “Is it as wonderful as it feels?”
He lifted the sheet away, tossing it aside. “It’s beautiful. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, babe.” The reverence in his voice wrapped around her heart like a warm blanket. She wanted nothing more in that moment that to show him how much she loved him.
“Master?” She licked her lips as she eyed the erection he made no effort to conceal. “Can I?”
“You don’t have to do that, slave.”
“I want to, Sir. Please?” The need to show him her love through serving him was so strong she thought she might collapse into tears if he said no. She ducked her head, letting him see her subservience.
“Are you sure you’re up to it? I’ve put you through enough already.”
“I’m sure, Sir. I want to do this. I need to do this. For you. For me.” The last two words were no more than a whisper, but he heard them.
“Very well, slave. I think your need is greater than mine, but I’m also a selfish bastard.” He stood, pointed to the floor. “On your knees.”
She moved as fast as her thrashed backside would let her. Master Todd resumed his seat on the edge of the bed, throwing a pillow on the floor between his legs to cushion her. As she sank to her knees, he fisted his cock with one hand, cupping the back of her head with the other. He groaned as she took him into her mouth. A feeling of power stole over her like nothing she’d ever felt before. It was humbling and exciting at the same time.
Todd was a powerful man—over six feet with a muscular build that could power a baseball over the centerfield wall in every stadium in the country. Yet she’d brought him to this place where he couldn’t deny his need. He was hard for her. She smiled inside. She was his slave, but she was far from powerless in their relationship.
His big hand on her head might have felt like control to him, but, to her, it felt like a caress. She took him deep, swirling her tongue around his stiff member. Every hiss and curse from his lips encouraged her to do more, to prolong his pleasure and hers.
When he cursed loud and jerked her ponytail hard, she released him and sat back on her heels.
“Up here. Now.” He held his hand out to her, helping her to stand then tugging her forward. Hands on his shoulders to steady herself, she brought her knees up to the mattress, straddling his hips.
“I need your pussy.” How could she argue with that?
He guided the head of his cock to her center. His eyes glazed as she sank down on him as slowly as she could manage.
“Christ, woman.” He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. His gaze met hers then his hand returned to the back of her head, bringing her face down to his for a kiss that was every bit as carnal as having him inside her.
Breaking the kiss, he breathed against her lips. “I’m a slave to this, to you.”
“I love you, Master. My body is yours.”
“I love you, Brooke. Please don’t leave me. I couldn’t bear it.”
“I’m yours, Todd. Always yours.”
“God, I don’t deserve you.” His hands went to her breasts. She arched her back, longing to feel him there, to give him comfort. Her breasts ached from smashing them against the table, but the second his lips closed over her nipple, she forgot all about the pain. Throwing her head back in ecstasy, she wrapped her arms around his head and held him to her.
He rocked his hips, driving himself deeper inside her.
“Oh, God, that feels good.” She picked up his rhythm. It wasn’t long before his cock grew harder. That, coupled with his groaning against her breast, was all it took to push her over the edge. The orgasm held her in its fist, wringing everything out of her.
“Todd,” she shouted as she clung to him. He released her nipple. Then, burying his face
between her breasts, he drove into her with two short, hard thrusts before he filled her with his seed.
Still connected, she followed him as he fell back on the bed, his arms thrown over his head, an exhausted smile on his face. Pride and an overwhelming love warmed her. She pressed a kiss to his chest. “Master.”
He wrapped a hand around her head. She could feel his heartbeat under her cheek. “Slave.”
She wasn’t sure if he was acknowledging her or correcting her. Either way, she was content with it.
***
Holy shit! Todd could recognize a homerun hit when the ball left the bat as surely as he could recognize Brooke’s impending orgasm when he was buried inside her. This ball was going out of the park. His second homerun of the game. Not bad for an old guy. He accepted congratulations from the first base coach as he stepped on the base before continuing his leisurely jog around the diamond. Life was good.
He had Brooke’s collar in his bag in the clubhouse. He had it sent to the training facility, so she wouldn’t see it before he had a chance to ask her if she would wear it.
Last night had been incredible. Intense. The marks he’d put on her weren’t as uniform as the ones Mistress Lola had put on her, but they meant more. After she’d fucked him—yeah, he could admit she fucked him—she thanked him for taking her to the same place Mistress Lola had taken her. Her concern that doing so had been traumatic for him was like a spear to his heart.
In truth, he hadn’t set out to take her into deep subspace. He’d desperately needed to mark her, claim her, in a way he’d never needed to before. The need had been raw. Caveman crazy. My woman. Ugh.
He smiled at the memory. Stepping on home plate, he was instantly engulfed by a herd of Mustangs. How had he ever thought he could leave these guys behind? Their faces were as familiar as his own, their joy at his accomplishments as genuine as his own. He’d seen players come and go, but he’d been a part of this fraternity for over ten years. Accepting congratulations from his friends, he headed to the dugout. Outside, he accepted his bat from the bat boy, who added a congratulatory fist bump and a smile.