He swallowed hard, his eyes somehow finding mine through the camera. He struggled to stand and undid his pants and belt, letting them fall to his feet. He pushed his shoes off and kicked his pants aside, standing there in all his dark glory.
His cock was incredibly hard. His length mouthwatering and his girth thick. His head was taut and there were a cord of small veins running along his left side. His broad chest and abs led down to taut thighs and long lean legs with his large feet. I snapped one of only his cock and then two of his entire body, my hands shaking as I struggled to keep myself from tackling him.
He ran a hand through his hair and I snapped one last one of his hand mid-buried in his black locks.
“Make love to me now.”
I set his phone down on the coffee table and he took my hand, leading me through the cottage for the master bedroom, a beautiful room made up in deep red and beiges, showcasing the green and blue beauty of the Oregon Coast.
He dug a condom out of the bundle I packed and ripped it open as I laid on my back, thighs trembling in anticipation. It was the first time we’d be together since our implosion. I watched him roll the condom on effortlessly.
He came for me, kissing me soul touchingly deep. He pressed into me without warning, but I was so ready for him, there was no pain for the first time. I knew there never would be again. The feeling was soothing, to know we’d gotten over at least one hurdle, even this small. The pressure of his girth was still there, but I relished it, rocking my hips up to meet his.
My nails dug into his back the deeper he entered me, his thrusts not as rough as I’d been anticipating. I wasn’t having that. I found his sore ass and dug my nails into him, swallowing the growl of his argument and increasing my hips.
He knew what I wanted, and endured his pain, shoving his cock into me unapologetically hard. I felt my lower belly burning and my heart doing the same, my body tightening with the onset of my approaching orgasm.
He fucked me through it, letting my lips go to stare down at me. I met his eyes through my heavy lids, grasping his biceps as he pumped into me, the slickness of our bodies gliding where they touched.
Right before he came, he found my hands, wove our fingers, and brought them over my head, slamming into me mercilessly. I lifted my knees to take him deeper, more. The feeling was addicting. I could take him without hurting and now I wanted to keep going.
I gripped his fingers overhead, wanting to make his orgasm as strong as mine. I focused on his girth and tightened my inner pussy muscles around him, clamping down when he was deep inside and pushing him out when he slid free.
“Shit, Miya.” His eyes became two pools of obsidian, my monster coming out to play. He pulled out suddenly and grabbed my hips, flipping me over onto my stomach and grabbing up my waist so my ass was in the air. He plunged into me from behind. His thighs slapped off my ass. It was deeper this way. I planted my hands and looked over my shoulder, giving him the same look he’d asked for earlier. He came wildly looking into my eyes, his cock twitching from deep, deep inside of me before he collapsed onto my back. “Shit, Miya,” he repeated, his breath hot on my shoulder.
I relished his weight on my back, my eyes closing. I woke briefly when he pulled me into his arms, falling back asleep at the smell of his skin and body soap, and in the safety of my master’s arms.
19.
We both stared into the fridge, him in his boxers and me in his dress shirt. Everything was fresh produce and grass fed organic meat, when I thought we both wanted something dripping with fat and calories.
“Pizza sound good,” he purred, kissing at the skin below my ear. His hands bunched up his shirt in his fists, shoving his cock against my naked ass. “Extra cheese and peppers?”
“So does ice-cream with fudge sauce.” I let my head loll to the side as he kissed me there, nipping at my earlobe.
“We sound high.”
“Aren’t we?”
He chuckled knowingly, giving my ass a spank. “Let’s go shower. We’re going out on a dinner date.”
I ran in excitement ahead of him, smiling when he laughed richly behind me. The shower was large enough for us both to shower comfortably, although I still found excuses to touch him. Brushing his abs, his ass, rubbing my breasts across his back until my puckered nipples made me shiver.
At one point, I slid across him, rubbing my ass up and down the length of his slick cock.
He shot me an unamused look.
“I’m sorry, Master,” I said reproachfully, casting my eyes down with a knowing smile.
He grabbed my elbow and brought me against the shower wall. He spanked me with wet rough spanks of his hand repeatedly until I was gasping for breath beneath the water. He parted my cheeks and the head of his cock teased my hole. “I want you to repeat after me. I am a bad girl.”
“I am a bad girl.” I gasped when he eased inside of me, unprepared for him back there. I clamped down with my muscles.
“Shh,” he soothed. “Relax your anal muscles.” I tried. “A bad girl who wants her master’s cock buried deep in her tight virgin ass.”
“Can I make some corrections?” My fingertips slid on the wet wall when he fought my tightness. Being full down there was so different than in my pussy. It was a different kind of pressure.
His hands reached around to grab my breasts, pinching my nipples. “Yes.”
“I am your bad girl who needs my master’s cock buried deep inside of my tight virgin ass.”
He groaned, struggling to fight my barriers.
I lost my control. I pushed back on him, gasping in shock at the feeling of taking more of him. “Cum inside of me, Master.” In my lust-filled bubble, it sounded like giving one more part of my body to him.
I wanted him to own every inch.
He pinched my nipples as he delved into my asshole, sending shocks to my sex. “Rub your clit.”
My body relaxed with my pleasure. It was everywhere. Nasty, dark, consuming—complete and utter dominance.
The harder he entered me, the harder I wanted it. The more he took, the more I wanted to give him. My nipples grew in his hold. I pressed down hard on my clit and threw myself into one of the strangest orgasms of my life. The pressure in my ass grew uncomfortable, but he fought it as I climaxed, growling behind me, our bodies slapping together in the shower. Steam curled around our bodies like the smoke from his cigars.
“Clamp down on me,” he ordered, his nails digging into my waist.
I used my inner muscles to clench around him, moaning when I felt his semen fill me. I loved the rush of wet heat, the flood of warmth that spread through my entire body.
“Don’t move.”
I watched him through my wet hair clean his penis and then he came for me. He washed me and then turned me around, laying a long wet kiss on my lips.
When he pulled away, he held my face, gazing into my eyes as his mind and my mind entangled around each other.
I’d packed with dinner in mind. I pulled out a long black sheath dress I’d found in the closet. He dressed in a tight and fitted deep charcoal suit, shrugging on his suit coat over his black shirt and straightening his gray tie in the mirror, his hair pushed back with product. He looked like the suit wrapped his long lean body perfectly. He pulled a cigar out of his briefcase and clamped the end, sitting on the chair in the corner of the room and watching me as I dressed.
I pulled the black thong on slowly, giving him a show. I positioned it in-between my ass and patted it down over me, my skin tingling at his eyes on me and the pungent smell of cigar in the room.
My dress fit me like a glove. I left the bra off, loving the amount of cleavage and the bareness I felt without it, my nipples teasing the soft black fabric. I combed my hair until it flowed and put on a light layer of makeup, finishing it with my Louboutins.
I didn’t ask questions, not even when he parked in the downtown area of the beach town we were in. The scene was more my age, and I saw his distaste in the way he gazed at the wo
men wearing practically nothing, their drunken giggles penetrating the interior of his car.
He didn’t realize how easily he fit in. I was the one who stuck out. Not in looks or age, but in personality. He owned the place. I wanted him to own me.
The restaurant he chose was upscale and busy, teeming with people and laughter. I instantly hated it. I never had many people around me, most of which I didn’t want and didn’t want me in return. I preferred the warmth and solitude of Jaxon over the life and “normal” of everyone else. I wrapped my hands around his arm. My grip must’ve been tight, because he looked down curiously, his brows furrowed.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s loud.”
He surprised me by chuckling, leading me through the chaos like he always did. “You are so odd.”
“Why?”
“You should be in that nightclub down the road, teasing men with that ass and those eyes, not shying away from the world on my arm.”
I glared at the side of his face. “I can want whatever I want, Jaxon. I guess I like annoying old men.”
That really made him laugh, drawing the attention of every female around us. They took him in, eating up his dark charisma then shooting me envious looks I didn’t want. To envy was to desire and that pissed me off. My anxiety was winning out. I sank down gratefully at our table, but it was right in the middle of a group of women drinking drinks the color of antifreeze and a group of men drinking drinks the color of urine.
I hid behind my menu, trying not to panic. “I hate dinner dates.”
“Miya,” he muttered sternly. “Look at me.”
I lowered my menu, meeting his gaze petulantly. In public, he was simply a man and I was simply his date. He couldn’t wield his power over me without showing everyone else.
“Are you having a panic attack?” His eyes tightened in concern.
I tried to breathe evenly. I hated panic attacks too. But breathing evenly was hard when it was so loud.
“Hold your breath,” he coached, his deep voice my only comfort. “Close your eyes. Focus on a sound that is constant. Like your heartbeat or imagine the ticking of a clock. Something that’s not as loud.”
“I like your voice better. Keep talking.”
“Okay. Keep your eyes closed and listen to me. You’re in a room with a lot of people, but they’re just people. They’re not going to hurt you. I won’t let them. They’re here for dinner. Drinks. Just like we are. They don’t look half as tempting as you, but I don’t think we should rub that in their faces.”
I smiled, unable to help myself, eyes still closed, my ears closing in on his voice and only his voice.
“How often do you have these?”
I opened my eyes, gazing at him in barely contained sadness. “Every time I leave the house and I’m around a ton of loud people.” I glared at them all. They were so normal and self-involved.
“You can’t blame them. It isn’t their fault. I spent the first two decades of my life blaming everyone else for my frame of mind, for my past, for smiling when I didn’t know how. You know what it did?” His eyes leaked his sadness. “It only made it that much harder to ask for help.”
“I don’t want their help.” I opened my menu. “Can I order a beer?”
“I don’t know how I feel about that. Seems like a dangerous pattern to enable.” He reached across the table as the ladies beside us cheered and clapped, spiking my anxiety. “Baby, please. Let’s talk. Take your mind off it.”
I gripped his hand tightly. He was right. To want a beer to hide my fears—that wasn’t good for me. “Fine. How’s the ass?”
For once, he ignored my attitude. “Manageable right now. How’s yours?”
I let his hand go and met his eyes, lowering my voice. “I could go for a nice hard spanking right now.” I had never wanted to be naked and exposed than I did in that moment.
A spanking would ease my stress.
But all it did was make him sad. “You’re reminding me of myself at your age. It’s unsettling.”
I flipped my hair. “You weren’t even half as cool.”
He gave me a rueful smile. “I really wasn’t.”
A waitress arrived then, chipper, and even chipper when she spotted him. Her eyes sort of widened and her mouth popped open. It was the one thing I needed to make me feel better. Especially when he smiled at her, and she gasped quietly.
Tell me about it.
“Let me guess,” he said, charming in seconds. “You’re our waitress?”
She opened her mouth but I saw the mush her brain had become.
His grin widened. “And you’re here to know what we’d like to drink?”
She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Um, yeah, sorry. I, uh, thought you looked familiar. Um, yeah, drinks. They’re wet.”
I stifled a giggle. Aren’t we all around him?
He put two fingers over his sculpted lips to keep his smile at bay. “Interesting.”
She blushed, her deep olive skin turning the prettiest shade of rose.
“I’ll have a pint,” I ordered. “He’ll have a diet ginger ale.”
She wrote it down with shaking hands and took off. When I looked at him, he was grinning. “I hope you know you’re drinking that soda. Taking advantage of a poor girl and her state. I’ll have to give you that spanking later. With my belt.”
Jeez that sounded good. “Can I ask you something?”
“Please do.”
“Did you think she was pretty? Like, did you find her attractive enough to, you know, consider as a submissive? I know in your emails you said that you don’t have a type of physical preference the way Sam does, but what do you usually find attractive?”
“Take a deep breath,” he ordered, small smile on his lips.
The men beside us roared, slamming down beers and shouting like uncaged animals.
“I find submission attractive. I don’t have a type. At least I didn’t.”
“Do most have a preference?”
“I can only speak for myself. Sam’s desire for women with your features is rare. They must look like you, even if he’s training. I never asked why. But I’d guess someone who looked like you all destroyed what was left of his heart at one point.”
I looked down. “What about Vega? Did she have a type?”
“Young,” he admitted. “Her first husband was the last man she’d let in older than her.”
“What did he do to her?”
“He beat her. For a long time. She got free of him when she was in her early twenties, joined the lifestyle not soon after. I think she enjoys men beneath her, sexually, age, business, mentally—as long as she’s superior, she’s in control. Hence her fetish for degrading. It isn’t one I ever picked up.”
“Sam enjoys it, too.”
“That he does. You should have seen your face when he called you a slut for the first time.” He even had a hard time not smiling now.
“I was shocked. I’m not sure I took to that completely. It grew on me only because it was him. Any other man, I’d punch him right in the nuts.”
His eyes twinkled. “Remind me to keep that one to myself.”
Our waitress set the beer down in front of me and the ginger ale in front of him, much more composed, because she only looked at me when she spoke.
“Have you had a chance to look over your menu?”
No, I used it as a shield. “I’ll have the bacon cheeseburger.”
“How would you like that cooked?”
“Uh …” With grease and cheese?
“She’ll have it medium,” Jaxon spoke up. “I’ll have the same. Only, I’ll take onion rings instead of fries, and we’d like the fried crab balls and chicken salad for our appetizers.”
She left as soon as she could.
“You’d terrify her,” I said, taking a sip of the beer. It was cold and citrusy, really freaking good. “She’d never last a night with you.”
That made him glare. “She’d be no fun. She wouldn’
t even challenge me.”
“But you don’t like it when I challenge you.”
“Yes, I do. I love it. I love how even knowing what I’ll give you, you still say what’s on your mind. You feel what you want and care little for how I want you to feel. It makes your submission sweeter and it makes times like this … special.”
My lips rose and my cheeks heated. It was really easy to love him when he said stuff like that. “I’ll make a mental note of that. Right alongside Mistress Miya and pancakes.”
His answering smile chased away all my anxiety.
Our waitress brought the appetizers and fresh drinks. Into my second beer, I started to feel my bones soften and that drunken confidence come rushing in. Watching him eat was almost as entertaining as watching him eat me.
Almost.
The way he licked his lips and created not a single crumb when my side of the table was covered in little bits from the fried crab balls. He was competent in most things. Even eating.
“Try this.” I shoved the beer toward him, but he shook his head.
“I’ve got to drive. You drink it. I’ll take advantage of you later and you can pretend you didn’t want it.”
“I’m not much of a pretender around you.”
He smirked, licking the dressing from his lips. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes did. Showing me dark memories from his mind that involved me.
I wanted so badly to be in his mind in that moment, to see me the way he saw me. What did he think of us when we hurt, when we smiled?
“Is that any good?” I’d monopolized the crab balls. I wiped my fingers guiltily on my napkin.
He gathered salad onto his fork. “Open your mouth.” I did so, holding his gaze as he slid the mouthful between my lips. “Chew it completely and swallow it before you tell me what you think.”
I did as he told me, flashing him a look once I’d gotten it down. “I don’t like salads, but that’s actually really good. Nutty, salty, and sour.”
He didn’t comment, bringing his fork to his mouth to lick where my lips had been. He kept his eyes on the salad as he did so, as if he were trying to rile me up, get under my skin and my panties.
Dark Master (Dark Masters Book 1) Page 17