Kotori's Sacrifice

by Dakota Trace

  Before he could apologize, the phone next to him rang. Picking it up, he answered. “Hello?”

  “Excuse me, sir. We’ll soon be arriving at the resort.” The chauffeur’s soft voice filled his ear.

  “Thank you.” He eased the phone into its cradle before looking at Mey-rin. He wanted, no, he needed to rip the glasses away and see the color of her eyes. “Look, I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m a bit touchy tonight. I got cornered in the elevator by the girls from Sailor Moon.”

  She giggled. “Dear lord. I can’t even begin to imagine your horror.” Her laughter faded. “We all have baggage, Sir. Why don’t we enjoy the masquerade and see where we are afterward. After too many fifty-to-sixty-hour weeks, I could use a bit of fun.”

  “You got a deal.” He smiled at her, liking the lighthearted side he hadn’t expected to see. “But you have to promise me a dance. It’s been too long since I’ve twirled a woman in my arms.”

  She cocked her head. “I suppose so, but realize you’re risking more than your toes. In that costume, I can’t promise my hands won’t wander. All those buttons make me want to open them with my teeth and lips….”

  He groaned, the image of her undoing his clothing with her mouth popping into his brain. He narrowed his eyes but reined in the lust simmering just under the surface. “Naughty girls get spanked. Hard.”

  Her breath caught in her throat, but he could hear the need in her voice when she spoke. “Then I guess I’ll have to be naughty.”

  Tempted to pull her over his lap, the only thing saving her ass was the car coming to a stop. He yanked the zipper shut on his play bag. If he had his way, he’d have her bound to a St. Andrew’s Cross wearing nothing more than her crisp white apron and begging for release before the end of the night.

  As the door opened and she moved to exit, he took a deep breath. He needed to get a grip and quit acting like an over-eager teenaged boy. Grabbing his toy bag, he slid out of the limo and stopped to take in the resort. It looked almost like any other resort on the strip—opulent lights and sparkling glass except for the dark, almost forbidden vibe the gold trim and dark accents gave off. The building soared into the Vegas skyline, easily holding over a thousand rooms.

  “Wow. Look at the size of this place. Maybe I should’ve had Wyk book a room here.”

  Next to him, Mey-rin stiffened. “Wyk?”

  “My brother. He set up my travel arrangements, since I was out of town on business. But now I’m wondering if it wouldn’t have been better to stay here.” He placed his hand on her elbow, stifling his moan at the sight of the pebbled tips pressing against her silk top. “Time to go inside, before I do something we’ll both enjoy.”

  “Sir?”

  “Go.” He leaned in and let his lips graze her ear. “Unless you want to find yourself up against the nearest wall with my mouth all over those pretty nipples you’re teasing me with.”

  She shivered against him.

  “Move,” he ordered, hanging on to his control by a thread. He wasn’t like this. The only other woman he’d ever reacted to was over seventeen hundred miles away. Guiding her to the door, he pushed her through it. When she swept past him, her hip brushed his groin. His cock throbbed in response as he trailed after her. Could it be his imagination, or had she deliberately added an extra sway to her walk?

  A petite blonde, dressed in a long flowing white gown with gold accents and feathers in her hair, looked up when they approached. Stationed behind an ornate table outside the entrance to the ballroom, she greeted them. “Good evening, my name is Bonnie. Do you have your invitations?”

  “Of course.” Then Mey-rin about drove him around the bend, when she bent over to pull a folded form and invitation out of her thigh-high woolen stockings. He even caught a glimmer of the pistols strapped to her thighs, and he groaned.

  Bonnie glanced up at Seba, a question in her eyes. “Sir?”

  “I’m fine,” he assured her.

  “Good. Then may I take your bag for you, Mr. Michaelis?” Bonnie took his bag and tagged it before handing him his receipt and a small key. “This is yours. It will be stowed for safekeeping until after the masquerade.”

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “You’re welcome.” She winked at him then accepted the invitation Mey-rin held.

  Bonnie scanned the back with a small handheld wand. The soft beep reached his ears. “You’ve read the rules?”

  “Of course.” Mey-rin’s cheeks flushed.

  “Good.” Bonnie held out a small tablet. “Please initial the box, Miss Mey-rin, acknowledging you understand the rules concerning both the masquerade and the after party. Doing so will not constitute an agreement to play with any individual present.”

  Picking up the wand, Mey-rin held it over the tablet. “Too bad. I hear there are supposed to be some rather sexy individuals here tonight.” She glanced over her shoulder and winked at him then turned back to scrawl her initials on the screen.

  His blood raced south. She can’t possibly think I’m going to let her scene with another. He caught her elbow, when she moved back.

  Startled, she froze. “Sir?”

  “The only person you’ll be playing with tonight is me.” He didn’t bother to hide the lust in his words. The sooner she recognized he intended to claim her, the better.

  A small grin tugged at her lips. “Perhaps, you can convince me…Sir.”

  Chapter Four

  Akira caught her breath as she stood in the entryway of the ballroom. She hadn’t expected the pure opulence surrounding her. She’d figured there would be polished wood floors, food, music, and dancing. Instead, the high-vaulted ceiling, with the etched marble under her feet gave the huge circular ballroom an airiness that belied its true size. Ice sculptures positioned around the room between each archway created a beautiful contrast to the white and black velvet draperies behind them. It was all so elegant, she felt out of place. Even the braided tassels of gold holding the heavy material open looked to be of the finest quality, and much too good for the likes of her.

  Seba stopped next to her and gave a low whistle. “Damn, it looks like they spared no expense. Check out the table in the center. There are three champagne fountains.” His fingers wrapped around her elbow. “Would you like something to drink? To settle your nerves before we mingle?”

  She nodded. He knew her thoughts long before she could even voice them. Which was one reason the relationship’s abrupt end had hurt so much—as if he’d seen something in her body language and found her lacking, not worth more effort. But now is not the time to worry about things I can’t change.

  The heat of Seba’s hand burned her lower back when he guided her through the crowd of costumed patrons. She bit her lower lip to keep from moaning at his touch. Classic rock poured from discreet speakers. A couple dressed as the Phantom of the Opera and his lovely Christine boogied by in a flurry of dark satin and white chiffon. Akira gaped after them. No way can I dance like that. “Unbelievable. I hope you don’t expect me to gyrate all over the floor, Sir.”

  Seba chuckled then pulled her to the side to avoid a tall, muscular man in a white toga with a wreath of laurel around his head. With the dagger protruding from his side, she could only assume it was Julius Caesar or some other unfortunate Roman Emperor. Not that she’d ever seen a dead emperor doing the robot before.

  “No, but I do hope we might have one slow dance later on.” He placed himself between her and a server wearing black slacks and a gold-lame top, carrying a huge tray of finger sandwiches.

  Finally, they arrived, without any collisions, to the sanctuary of the refreshment table.

  Seba glanced around. “They’re taking full advantage of the light and dark theme of the ball. Check out the beautiful virgin who just came in. Or should I say vixen.” In a flowing, short white eyelet gown and ivory heels, with a pretty blindfold of uncut lace accentuating her long dark hair, the lady he referred to stood a few feet from the
huge ice sculpture next to the entrance. A handsome blond man dressed as an archangel loomed over her. A few moments later, he moved away along the outer wall, while she headed in the opposite direction, toward the bathrooms.

  “Beautiful,” she agreed. “But, ten to one, he’s not her date. Someone as ripe for the plucking as she is would be more of a temptation for the devil himself than an angel.” Arika waved toward a new arrival. “Like him.”

  Dressed in leathers and a long trench coat, with a red mask obscuring half of his face, the silver-haired man prowled across the floor with a predatory grace. “Doesn’t he remind you of Faust? Ready to seduce his prey with worldly pleasures?”

  Seba chuckled in her ear, surprising her with his closeness. Goose bumps raced up her spine. “I think you’re a bit on the fanciful side, my dear Mey-rin.” He nuzzled the flesh behind her ear. “But I’ll take your bet. If he ends up with the virgin at the after party, I’ll eat your pussy till you come at least three times….” He nibbled at her shoulder. “But, if I win, I want this”—he cupped her bottom, and she jumped, a whimper escaping her tight throat—“ass. Do you agree?”

  Biting her lower lip, she wanted to press back against his hand, to beg him to do either. But that was what Akira would do, and tonight she wasn’t her. For the next two hours, she would portray Mey-rin, a love-struck maid—trained lethal assassin by night, but a fumbling fool in the presence of her crush. So she took a shaky step away, catching herself on the edge of the lace and linen covered table. She turned to face him.

  “You want to….”

  He smiled, and one of those deadly dimples came to the fore, transforming him from a stern master into a seductive stranger. “What’s wrong? Can’t say the words, sweetheart?” He tipped her chin up with one finger. “It’s real easy…. It’s called ass fucking. Ever since you bent over to retrieve your invitation, all I’ve thought about is sinking deep inside your tight little bottom while you come against my fingers.”

  Her cheeks heated, much like her character’s did in the presence of Sebby. Moisture flooded her panties at the erotic taunt. She dug her nails into her palms to keep from falling to her knees and baring her ass for him. While no stranger to anal sex, she had never experienced it with Seba. He’d used it as an incentive to reach subspace. He claims nothing is more erotic than a sub allowing him to sink his cock into their asses, while they’re floating high from the pleasured pain he’s given them.

  “Nothing to say, my sweet Mey-rin?” He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Or is it one of your darkest, hidden needs? To feel a thick cock stretching you there, until all you can do is moan?”

  Biting her lower lip, she fought her rising tide of desire. She couldn’t fall to his feet in a puddle of goo. She was made of sterner stuff. “Perhaps, before the night is over, you’ll find out.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you challenging me?”

  She shrugged then turned toward the fountain. Arching her back and thrusting her bottom toward him, she held first one then a second glass under the cascading cider. After both cups were filled, she bowed while offering him one. “We shall see. Us scening isn’t a foregone conclusion, Sir. One of us may change our mind before the evening is over.” She managed to take a single sip of the crisp beverage before he lifted the flute from her fingers and set it on the tray of a passing server.

  “So we shall…but if I have a say, we will be. It’d be a shame to welsh on our wager.”

  She swallowed hard and cocked her head. “And why’s that?”

  Taking her shoulders in his hands, he turned her to face the dancing couples. In the midst of the many costumed patrons, Faust glided with his virgin, his head bent close to hers. The solid outline of Seba’s erection dug into her hip. Her former Master was still a very visual man, loving to watch the interaction between lovers. His openness about sex and his own needs had drawn her to him from the beginning.

  “Because things are about to get interesting. Watch them…see how their bodies sway together, how the tension builds?” Seba lowered his voice, his tone a rough growl in her ear as he gathered her closer. “You’re right about their attraction to one another. Lucky for you, because if the flush on her chest is any indication…I will look forward to spending some time feasting between your thighs.”

  He lifted her hand, and a sudden wet heat enveloped her fingers as he sucked them into his mouth then released them. A shiver worked up her spine when his breath, warm but cool against her damp skin, teased her. She bit back a moan at the sensation. Why did it always have to be this way? How could a mere brush of Seba Havas’s body against hers make her want to melt into a puddle of goo?

  He chuckled, and nuzzled her ear. “Perhaps I can even convince you to return the favor? I’ve thought of little else since the first time I saw your lips.”

  The little maid caught her breath, her body going almost limp against his. At her sharp inhalation, the soft mounds of her tits rose in an enticing manner. Naughty of him, perhaps, to tease her in such a way, but he couldn’t resist. He needed her on the edge, so, when he ripped away the dark cloth, obscuring her soft curves from his view, she would beg for more.

  Then I will find out how sensitive her nipples are, if they are a soft mocha or a delicious berry color. I want to devour them, and afterward use my favorite weighted clamps on the tips. But I must remember this isn’t just about my wants. This is about sending Mey-rin outside of herself. To know I still haven’t lost my touch.

  “You did?” She looked up at him over her shoulder. Then her tongue skimmed her lips. It didn’t take much on his part to imagine her on her knees in front of him, using those ruby lips on his dick.

  “Of course, but I suspect you knew that. What woman wears ruby-red lipstick if it isn’t to drive her date insane with lust? Now do we have a bet?” He pressed her back against his frame when the music swelled to a close. The deejay announced a short break, sending the crush of dancers stampeding toward the refreshment tables.

  The need to reiterate the terms consumed her. “Quick recap. If you win…you get anal sex—”

  He shook his head. “Not anal sex. Ass fucking. There’s a difference, my sweet Mey-rin.”

  She flushed. “Fine. You win, I let you…fuck my ass, but if I win…you make me come?”

  “Are you really that repressed?” He traced her collarbone. “If you win, I’m going to do more than make you come. I’m going to eat your tender little pussy until you can’t see straight. Until you coat my face with your cream. Hell, at this moment, I don’t know if I want to win or lose. So I guess we’ll leave it up to our unknown friends. If you’ll agree?”

  A barely audible gasp escaped her. “Of course, Sir. What a splendid way to predict the outcome of our first encounter.”

  Is the little vixen teasing or being sarcastic?

  A minor commotion when the little flapper who’d taken their invitations trailed after a fast-moving Archangel Michael, distracted him from his thoughts. With his dark wings, brass chestplate, and dark leather war skirt, the fleeing man made quite an imposing figure. Then Faust broke away from his dark-haired virgin to join them. Interesting. How would this affect his bet with the delectable morsel in front of him?

  “Well, that doesn’t look good.” Mey-rin dragged his attention away from the unfolding scene. “I hope whatever upset him won’t reflect badly on the resort. Because, so far, everything has been top-notch.”

  “I’m sure it won’t.” Tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, he gave it a reassuring squeeze. “In the literature about tonight, I recall reading the owner of the resort commissioned the reclusive Arturo Bianchi to create a unique series of ice sculptures for this event. If I remember correctly, it’s called the Journey of Submission. Shall we check them out?” He cocked his head. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to eat or mingle with the rest of the guests?”

  “I’d love to see the ice sculptures, Sir.” She smiled up at him, her frilly maid’s cap framing her face and several loo
se strands of burgundy-red hair.

  Before the night’s over, I will see the little bit of white frippery gone, along with those hideous glasses. She won’t be able to hide forever. But first he had to tempt his delectable companion into playing with him. Their bet would be moot if she decided to end their date after the masquerade.

  “Sir?” Her brow furrowed. “Have you changed your mind about seeing the sculptures?”

  Shaking himself, he wrapped a hand around her hip and guided her toward the first of the sculptures. A small plaque at the base of the glistening art read, Say Yes, and featured two full figures. When they stopped in front of it, he hovered behind her so they almost mimicked the pose of the ice couple. The man stood behind a slender female, one arm wrapped around her waist, his head bent to her left ear. Seba could only imagine what the man was whispering in his prospective lover’s ear. “Ah, the seduction. The sweet honeyed words a man says to convince the object of his affection that he’s harmless.” Seba placed his hands on her shoulders.

  A giggle escaped her. “Sweet honeyed words?”

  “Mmmm-hmmm.” He pressed closer. “So I’ve been told. Too bad I suck at them.”

  “Aw, I’d say you’re not doing too badly, Sir. At least a girl knows where she stands with you.”

  Seba froze, the words reminiscent of Akira. Had Madame Eve set him up with the one person he’d run over fifteen hundred miles to avoid?

  He shrugged off the thought. “Why don’t we see if any of the other statues are more appealing?” He straightened and guided her to the next one. Either she’d give herself away or prove his fear pointless. But heaven help her if she’d lied. When he said it was over, it was over.

  “Of course, Sir.” They made their away around the room, stopping at each ice sculpture. Not all featured a male Dom and female submissive. One showed a Domme with a male submissive bent over her legs, her hand forever poised in mid-swing. Another depicted two males, with the dominant frozen in the act of flogging his submissive’s broad back. They all intrigued her, but it was the final ice sculpture that truly called to her.