His to Love (Titans Quarter Book 2)

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His to Love (Titans Quarter Book 2) Page 4

by Sierra Cartwright


  Instantly, she blinked, then tipped her head to one side to study him.

  “We’re just beginning,” he promised.

  They had most of an hour still ahead of them, then days for him to awaken her senses.

  Suddenly that thought was all-consuming.

  Chapter Three

  Shelby tingled with the awareness of Trevor’s power. Beneath those terrifying but delicious spikes of metal, her nerve endings had lit up. Her nipples were harder than she ever remembered.

  When she agreed to be part of the wager, Shelby had no idea of what she was getting into.

  Even though she knew of Master Trevor’s reputation, she hadn’t been prepared for the effects he would have on her.

  Surprising her most, he was kinder than she’d anticipated. She expected him to waste little time getting to know her or her likes. Of course, he’d ask about limits and safe words. That much she expected.

  But he hadn’t stopped there.

  It was as if he wanted to know all of the things that pleased her. His probing questions broke down her defenses, stripping her bare. It wasn’t just physically, in the way he’d exposed her pussy to him; it was so much more. His firm gentleness chipped away at her emotions. Her fear crumbled beneath his patience. And that made him much more dangerous than any Dom she’d ever met. Any Dom? Any man.

  “We’ll play with this more later.” He walked toward the table to put down the wheel. His booted footsteps were loud on the floor. Unnaturally so, thundering in the silence.

  He returned to stand in front of her.

  She tipped back her head to look at him. His eyes were a shade or two lighter than when he’d won the bet. She saw keen interest there. Her heart ricocheted. It wasn’t just from fear. Now it was the tendrils of genuine excitement. Maybe he was capable of giving her what she wanted.

  “When you’re ready, I want you on the spanking bench.”

  His voice… God. The timbre was deep and resonant with command. Despite his tenderness, he was a Dom who expected to be obeyed. She shivered at the realization. “Yes, Sir.”

  Previous Doms had tied her to St. Andrew’s crosses, so the newness of this contraption left her uncertain.

  “Your head will be toward the far wall, and I want your knees on either side. You’ll rest your torso on the top plank.”

  Appreciating his very specific instructions, she took his hand. As she did, something glittered beneath the light. For the first time she really noticed the ring he wore. At first she assumed it was from the college he attended, but it was unlike anything she’d ever seen. The top was shaped like an owl, with piercing green eyes.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Your ring…it’s unusual.”

  “I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

  As she nodded, she climbed into place.

  “So beautiful. Exquisite,” he murmured when she lowered herself onto her stomach. “But stick your rear end out a little farther.”

  Embarrassment sent spirals of heat through her as she wiggled into position.

  “You’re sexy as hell, woman. I love having you in this position.”

  Over her panties, he rubbed between her legs. No other Dom had done this. Her scenes had been perfunctory, not…this. Pleasure made her clit ache.

  “Are you getting wet for me?”

  “Yes.” She moaned.

  He pushed the material aside, and his calloused skin abraded her tender flesh, rough against smooth, making her delirious.

  “Could you come for me, sweet Shelby?”

  Lost, she squeezed her eyes closed. It was as if he knew her body better than she did.

  “I think you could. How long would it take you? Sixty seconds? Thirty?” Then he moved his hand away.

  Involuntarily she cried out and pushed herself backward, begging for more.

  “That’s what I was hoping for.” He skimmed a palm down her buttock.

  Instead of soothing her, his touch kept her aflame.

  “Would you like to be tied?”

  Since she already knew that staying in place would be a challenge, she nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  When he left her, the skin at the small of her back cooled. It was then that she realized he’d kept a hand on her the entire time he played with her pussy.

  A few seconds later, he wrapped one of the fabric strips around her right ankle, outside her boot, then secured her to one of the hooks.

  Without being prompted, she tested the bond.

  He’d adjusted the length of the strap so that she’d have a little slack. After he secured her left ankle, he crouched next to her. He tucked errant strands of hair behind her ear. “Are you doing okay?”

  “A little nervous.” Especially now that the scene was going to get more real.

  “Concentrate on your breathing.” He skimmed his fingers down her bare arm, reassuring her. “In and out.”

  Her first few breaths were shaky.

  “Another. Deeper.”

  On her exhalation, she relaxed a little, letting the spanking bench take more of her weight.

  “That’s it. Exactly right.”

  His approval went to her head, making her senses sing.

  “How about your wrists? Would you like them tied?”

  “I think so.”

  “Until you’re absolutely certain, we’ll leave them loose.”

  She turned her head to the side so she could study him. He was so large, uncompromising. But his eyes were dark, inviting trust.

  “Because we’re new to each other, I’m taking your hesitation as a no. If you change your mind, all you need to do is ask.”

  As best as she could, she nodded her understanding.

  “And a blindfold?”

  That might help her shut out the world so she could give herself over to the experience more fully. “Yes. Please, Sir.”

  Before he collected one, he shocked her by moving behind her to play with her pussy again. It took a single stroke on her sensitive clit to shove her toward the precipice again. She moaned.

  “Should I make you wait?”

  Her mind slogged through a sensual fog.

  She could barely think, let alone speak. Her thoughts were a tangled mess from his deliberate and teasing onslaught.

  He was masterful. He read her body language perfectly, and each brush, every stroke was calculated to arouse. There would be no hiding from him.

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want…”

  He cupped her pussy.

  “Please, Sir. Give me an orgasm.”

  “One. And a million more.”

  She closed her eyes and turned herself over to him. Trevor teased, then gently pinched, circled, and pressed.

  This experience was completely new, arousal as part of their playtime. Her other Doms had been perfunctory. But this… She was in the position he wanted, with her ankles secured, and he was focused on bringing her pleasure.

  As he brought her closer and closer to a climax, embarrassment was shoved aside by the primal beat of her desire.

  Nothing existed but Trevor and his determination.

  He fisted her underwear and wedged the material higher, lifting her, searing her clit. Then he slipped a finger inside her heated pussy.

  “Oh, God!” Sights and sounds swirled through her mind. Captured by him, she floundered.

  He found her G-spot and pressed against it.

  She screamed as the orgasm tore through her.

  Shelby bucked, desperate for more and equally as desperate to escape and curl into herself so she could recover.

  But Trevor wasn’t done with her. Instead, he continued his relentless onslaught.

  “I”—she gasped—“can’t!”

  “Let’s see.”

  She’d never been capable of coming more than once a night. But when he sucked on her clit, she went rigid, then collapsed, eyes wide open, unable to speak.

  Seconds later, grinning, he crouched next to her. “Yeah.”
He pressed a finger against his lips and captured some of her essence. “Evidently you’re capable of giving me what I demand.”

  He touched her mouth, and she tasted herself on him.

  “Lick it off me.”

  She did. Once again, he was so matter of fact that she experienced pleasure, solely because he enjoyed it. She’d had no idea that being with a Dom could be so perfect.

  “You said yes to a blindfold, but I’m exercising my Dominant’s prerogative and refusing. I like seeing your eyes, watching them go hazy. And I don’t want you hiding your reactions when I use the flogger on you.”

  She was hungry for it in a way that stunned her.

  “We’ll start with a couple of hundred strokes.”

  “Hundred?” She sought his gaze, hoping he was joking.

  But his jaw was set in a firm line. “I won’t disappoint you,” he promised.

  Cool air whispered from the overhead vents, chilling her overheated body.

  “I’m going to start really slow. Let go of your fear. Surrender to the experience.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Then, in a whisper, she added, “Sir.”

  “I’ve got you, Shelby. I promise.” He rubbed her rear gently, then, over time, a little more vigorously.

  Despite her efforts to stay still, she moved and squirmed against the horse. Even that small contact made her pussy wet all over again.

  “That’s what I’m looking for, what it’s all about. Your arousal.” He strode to the table to collect the flogger, and he returned with it in hand, moving it in an elegant figure-eight pattern.

  “Are you ready?”

  Searching somewhere deep for trust, she curled her right hand into a fist.

  “I’m waiting for your answer.”

  “I’m ready, Sir.”

  The first soft leather throng danced on her skin, a whisper and promise.

  “How’s that?”

  “It was…nothing.” Barely there.

  “Perfect.”

  He caught her other buttock in a similar caress.

  This shouldn’t be possible.

  Master Trevor continued, on and on, with a trace more sensation as the minutes passed. As if she were getting a massage, she let go, surrendering her weight, giving herself to her Dom.

  “You’re at two hundred.”

  Was she? The only thing she knew was that it wasn’t enough. “More, Sir.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  He continued, and she breathed in time with each leathery kiss. Her body warmed again. Then it blazed as the flogger landed more frequently and the bites were deeper. She screamed, from pleasure, not pain.

  Seconds later, it was over, and his mouth was on her pussy.

  He pleasured her. Devoured her.

  She cried out as an orgasm catapulted her over the edge.

  When she opened her eyes, her Dom was there, crouched next to her, stroking her hair.

  She blinked him into focus, drowned in his deep blue eyes, and inhaled his masculinity, the intoxication of a sultry Southern night. “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself.” He unfastened the ankle closest to him.

  “Was that really more than two hundred?”

  “Three. Maybe four.”

  “I didn’t think I could do that.” And crave more.

  “This is only the beginning. Over the next week, you’ll get to find out how much more you can take.”

  The confidence in his words should have made her shudder. Instead, anticipation rushed through her.

  Shelby was so relaxed that she didn’t move while he released her other bond. When he was done, she tried to lift her head.

  “Stay there.”

  As if she could move.

  “This shade of red suits you.” He rubbed her buttocks. “I’ll ensure you’re decorated with it every day.”

  She shivered.

  Across the room, Trevor started to repack his bag. Fascinated by his efficient motions, she watched his every move.

  When he was finished, he returned to help her up from the spanking bench. As if knowing how the world was shifting around her, he held on to her until she was steady on her feet, before fastening her bra back into place.

  Trevor slipped the bolo tie over her head, then tightened it until the conch once again rested at the hollow of her throat. “I’d like you to wear a collar for the next week. A physical reminder of your agreement.”

  “I…” She curled her hand around the silver medallion.

  “It’s nothing permanent.” He shrugged. “Symbolic.”

  “But important to you.”

  “To us both, I hope.” He rearranged her hair, untucking it from beneath the tie. “It will be something you’ll keep on until I remove it next Saturday.”

  Her heart raced. “Yes.” She could do that for him.

  “I have a room at the Maison Sterling tonight. I thought we’d stay there.”

  “Really?” Her budget had never allowed for that. She’d attended a going-away party for a colleague there. Even though others booked rooms so they could enjoy all delights of the French Quarter, she drove home. Nothing about this evening—or this man—was ordinary.

  “Shall we?”

  Slowly she released her grip on the conch.

  While she wiped down the spanking bench, he closed his bag. Now, more than ever, she wanted to try some of the other implements. Would a week be enough?

  She exited the room in front of him, but he walked beside her as they descended the staircase, ignoring the scenes happening at Rue Sensuelle where Mistress Aviana had talked to her.

  In the dungeon’s main room, there was currently no waiting line for the bucking bronco. She brushed a hand over her chaps to smooth imaginary wrinkles from them.

  As if sensing her intrigue, he stopped. “Earlier you said you didn’t like being watched.”

  She glanced around. People were engaged in their own scenes or talking with friends. “I’ll admit…”

  Trevor leaned down so he could speak directly into her ear. “It’s twenty, maybe thirty seconds at most.”

  Shelby scowled. “I doubt I could make it that long!”

  “You didn’t think you could take two hundred lashes from my flogger either.”

  Excitement and nerves warred in her, pummeling her with adrenaline. She glanced at the contraption, then the ride’s operator.

  He doffed his hat, then used it to beckon her toward him.

  As was becoming a custom, she glanced toward Trevor, seeking…something. Approval? Encouragement?

  His eyes were dark with interest. “It’s a night of firsts.”

  “Do you want me to do it?”

  The operator flipped on a switch, and the bronco made a slow, nonthreatening circle.

  “I will never coerce you into anything.”

  “But…”

  “You’ll look hotter than hell. All that wriggling.” He adjusted his cowboy hat. “Jiggling.”

  She rolled her eyes as she laughed. “Why doesn’t that response surprise me?”

  “I’m a helpless man, captive to your spell, sexy Shelby.”

  The earnest tone in his voice, the lack of a teasing spark, was the final encouragement she needed. Others might look at her, but Trevor, her Dom for the next seven days, was the only man she was aware of. All night, he’d showed his appreciation for her, chased away her embarrassment. “I’m in.”

  “Slaying your fears.”

  It was easier with him by her side.

  Her steps faltered a little as she neared the bucking bronco. The closer she drew, the larger it loomed.

  “Remember it’s supposed to be fun,” Trevor said.

  But now she knew why they were a mainstay in bars. This would be much easier if she’d been drinking.

  After placing his bag on the floor, Trevor wrapped his hands around her waist. He enveloped her in his strength and heat, and suddenly she wanted him to touch her entire body.

  “Ready?”

  When
she nodded, he effortlessly lifted her and swung her into the saddle.

  For that moment, while he looked at her, the world around them ceased to exist.

  “Thank you,” she managed.

  The operator offered a pink leather glove, and Trevor accepted it, holding it while she slipped it on.

  Once it was secure, she grabbed hold of the rope in front of her.

  “Tuck your hand under it. You’ll have a better grip.”

  “How do you know how to do this?”

  “Misbegotten youth.” He grinned.

  She frowned, unsure whether to believe him.

  “I’ll tell you the story sometime.”

  “About ready there?” the operator asked.

  Trevor ignored the man. “You’ll use your free arm to counterbalance. You’ve been to a rodeo?”

  “No.”

  “Seen clips?”

  “Once or twice.”

  “There’s a reason cowboys are waving an arm around. It’s not for show.”

  “It’s so they don’t end up beneath a bull?”

  He nodded. “Arm in the air.”

  Feeling self-conscious and a little ridiculous, she did as he instructed.

  “That’s it.” He placed a palm on her buttocks and scooted her forward. “As close to the neck as possible.”

  Calling a piece of bent metal a neck seemed like a stretch.

  “You’ll want to squeeze your inner legs as hard as you can against the sides. That’s the key. Work to counterbalance the bucking motions, and use your thighs.”

  “I’m beginning to understand more why you like this.”

  “I confessed. It’s the gyrations. Damn.” He brushed a finger across her lips. Even though he’d washed his hands after their time together, she was sure she could smell her heat on him.

  Now she had something else to think about—him.

  “You ready?”

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever be.”

  He stepped back and folded his arms and waited for her to tell the operator to start the machine.

  The bronco turned in a small circle. She grinned at Trevor as she passed him. This was easy enough. Then the mechanical horse bucked.

  “Stay forward!” Trevor called. “Squeeze those thighs like you mean it.”

  The bronco kicked her back, and she went flying in the air and landed on leather with a hard plop that made her wince.

 

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