“Ah-ah-ah, open those eyes, Sunny. I want you looking at me. I want you to watch me as I take your mouth.” He placed his hand on top of her head, just holding her, honoring her submission. “I love watching that lovely mouth taking my cock. Watching those luscious red lips closing around my flesh.” He closed his eyes, sucking air deep into his lungs, holding it there as he fought for control. Jesus, she has no idea how beautiful she is. Nor how close I am to coming! Grabbing the base of his cock in his left hand, he squeezed as hard as he could to keep himself from ejaculating prematurely.
Holding it like a hammer, he tapped the head against each cheek, then against her lips, leaving a pearly trail of pre-cum that she longed to lick away, but didn’t dare. He hadn’t given her permission. His right hand came around to grip the back of her head, his fingers twisting in her hair until the pull on her scalp made her gasp. Taking advantage of the wide aperture, he powered his cock through the opening, loving the gentle graze of her teeth against his flesh, until the tip touched the back of her throat. He held it there while she battled her gag reflex, swallowing convulsively, until the tip of his cock slid partway down her throat.
Jesus Christ on a cracker! “Breathe through your nose, love,” he reminded her in a strangled voice as she struggled to drag air into her lungs. He waited, still lodged against the back of her throat until the tension left her body and her struggles quieted. “Good girl.” Slowly, slowly, he withdrew until only the thick, mushroom-shaped head remained inside, resting on her tongue and bottom lip.
She flexed her cheeks, deepening the suction, making him groan as his hips jerked in pleasure. His balls, heavy with his seed, drew up, tightening almost painfully.
“Christ, Sarah!” Using his grip on her hair, he held her head still. Christ, what a sight! To see those delicious red lips pursed around his cock, preparing to take him deep—Jesus! He was about to come right then and there, like some randy schoolboy. He swallowed hard, screwing his eyes shut in an effort to regain control.
With deliberate slowness, he pushed back inside, his breathing harsh and labored. “Now, I’m going to use you. Hard. You will be permitted to come, but not until I say so, understand?”
Unable to speak with her mouth full of cock, she nodded jerkily.
“I don’t want a blow job. I’m going to fuck your mouth. You are not to suck, lick, or move your head. Do you understand?”
Another nod.
Fuck! It wasn’t working. Fuck! “Sarah…love…” It was a sigh, a mere wisp of sound, softer than a whisper, more fragile than a prayer.
And yet she had no trouble hearing it. It seemed to echo quietly through the room before dying like a zephyr in the summer heat. Then he pulled his cock out completely, just resting it against her nose and mouth while he struggled to pull himself together.
“No-o-o-o, Master, please,” she whimpered in protest. “Please, Master.” What happened? Why did he pull out? Her gaze flew to his, half expecting to see an expression of anger on his face. An expression of cold displeasure. Of disappointment at something she’d inadvertently done wrong. But she saw none of those things. Instead, the expression she saw in his sapphire eyes was one of stark passion. Unbridled lust. And a love so profound, it melted her insides and turned her blood to honey, thick and warm in her veins.
Need echoed through her, wild and hot. She was ready, God, she was so ready. Her clit was throbbing, her clamped and swollen nipples were on fire, as was her ass. Her vagina was clenching and unclenching as she fought her impending release. Close…so close…her entire body ached to serve him, to please him, to be possessed by him.
Tears filled her eyes, spilled over, ran unheeded down her cheeks. His cock was right there, quiescent against her mouth, glistening with her saliva. Close enough to smell, close enough to taste. All she had to do was stick out her tongue and lap up the pre-cum dribbling from the head…
She was already parting her lips, preparing to do just that, when he hunkered down in front of her, his cock rising like an obelisk between his legs. His jeans were still bunched around his knees. He hadn’t even bothered removing them. Lifting both hands to cup her cheeks, he gently wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs. The tenderness in his smile made her belly clench, sending fresh juice gushing from her core and fresh tears spilling from her eyes.
“Master?” she whispered, uncertainty making her voice quaver. “Did I—did I do something wrong?”
A look of anguish crossed his features. “No, sweetheart.” The force of his need thickened his throat, making it difficult to speak. His cock was a throbbing ache. “You could never do anything wrong. We simply won’t allow it.”
“And yet,” she pointed out helpfully, “you’re always punishing me. Why is that, exactly?”
“Because we can,” he smirked. “Because it’s fun.” His lips twitched. “But mostly because we enjoy watching you wiggle and squirm and beg for release as we redden your lovely ass.”
“You enjoy hurting me?”
His expression softened. “No, love. We would never hurt you. Because that would make us sadists, which we’re not, and what we do to you abuse, which it isn’t. The only pain we give you is erotic pain, and only because your body converts it into a pleasure so profound, you don’t just come, you detonate. That’s what we live for, sweet pea. Making you come so hard you literally fly apart in our hands. Nothing gives us more pleasure than giving you pleasure.”
“Then why did you stop just now? I was so close.”
He smiled ruefully. “I know you were, sweetheart. And so was I. That’s why I stopped, because I’m not ready for this to end. And, trust me, it was about to end.” His expression softened in a way that made her heart stop beating and the breath freeze in her lungs. “You test my control, Sarah. I’ve never had that problem with any of my subs before, but with you it happens all the time.”
“So, how many subs have you had, exactly?” she asked curiously, suddenly realizing that she knew nothing about his sexual history. He was thirty-three, two years older than Jesse. While she knew Jesse had never had any long-term or permanent subs, that aspect of Adam’s life was a black hole, a potentially dark and dangerous place, full of ravening beasts waiting to devour the unwary. “Um…” Suddenly she wasn’t so sure she even wanted to know. “I’m sorry, Master, I didn’t—I mean—I have no right to ask…”
His hands tightened around her face. “Of course you have every right to ask. And I have every intention of telling you. Right after I have given you your pleasure.” He leaned forward and placed his mouth against hers, tasting the salt of her tears in the seam of her lips. He moved his head back, replacing his mouth with his stroking thumb. “You ravish my heart, love. You give me more pleasure than anyone I’ve ever known, and you honor me with the gift of your submission.”
Okay, that does it. Her tears were flowing freely now with no hope of stopping them. Sobs wrenched from her aching chest. Wow. What could one possibly say to something like that? What was there about being dominated that made her feel so…so…swallowed? That stirred the depths of her soul, releasing all her hidden emotions, like a conductor releases the hidden music of the orchestra? “Adam,” she began, but he pressed his thumb against her lips to shut off the flow of her words.
“Hush, love. I’ve got you.” He brushed the hair out of her eyes, threading his fingers rhythmically through the silken strands, lifting them away from her face. “Usage position, Sunny,” he said. A Dom command, but not in his usual Dom voice. In a voice that was low and smoky and undid her completely. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out—no words, nothing. Not a sound. Her brain had seized, rendering her mute.
“I’m going to fuck you, Sarah, and then we’ll talk. You may come when you’re ready. As often as you can manage.”
“Y–yes, M–Master,” she stuttered. With a shuddering sigh, she closed her eyes and lowered her shoulders to the buttery-soft leather of the ottoman, stretching her arms above her head and crossing her wrists. S
he couldn’t suppress the shivers that feathered up and down her spine. The sudden burst of need surging through her was powerful and immediate. Even with her eyes closed she knew when Adam straightened and walked around to stand behind her. She felt his one hand stroking the satin skin of her buttocks, even as his other hand was stroking his cock, guiding it toward her wet, glistening opening.
Sarah held her breath, letting out a little yelp as the tip of his cock touched her heated skin. Her yelp turned into a shriek as he powered balls deep into her, scorching a path through her swollen tissues, filling her with his hot, hard erection. Too much! Too much! Too much! Her yelp was followed by panting yips as he grabbed her hips and began thrusting in and out. And all of a sudden, it was no longer too much, but, instead, not nearly enough. Oh, God! “Harder, Master,” she panted hoarsely. “Faster. Please, Master.” She arched her back, slamming her hips back against him as he rammed in and out of her, driving them both up the cliff toward completion.
He leaned over her back, his tongue licking the shell of her ear, his teeth nipping at the lobe, making her shiver and squirm with delight. Meanwhile his right hand reached around her right thigh and unerringly found her clit. He began circling the frazzled nub with his index finger, while at the same time angling his cock to scrape against her G-spot as each thrust of his hips sent rapture spiraling through her. Her squeals turned into shrieks of delight, and her shivers became a series of full-body tremors as pleasure expanded through her like a balloon, growing bigger and bigger, pressing against every internal nerve ending, until she was ready to burst.
The room echoed with their groans, their sighs, their cries of pleasure, grace notes to the unmistakable sounds of flesh slapping against flesh. With every second that passed, the coil inside her body wound tighter, tighter, tighter, stretching her toward release…toward an orgasm that hung torturously just beyond reach, until…
“Come, Sarah,” he commanded in a voice that sounded like rocks being scraped together.
And she came, with a scream that splintered her throat, in a climax that exploded through her like a bomb, shattering her into a million pieces, hurtling her out into the vastness of space. Her convulsions fisted his cock in deep, silken pulls, sending him over the edge into a hard release of his own.
With an inarticulate shout he exploded, his cock pumping inside her tight passage, filling her with more than just his seed. Filling her with his heart. His soul. Everything he was. After three final jerky thrusts, he collapsed on top of her with a grunt of pleasure. As aftershocks continued to spasm through them, he planted a string of kisses across her shoulders, on her neck, around her ear, all the while murmuring her name over and over in a voice that sounded like it had been crushed in a gravel quarry.
When he pulled out of her, she let out a cry of protest, but obeyed his command to stay put. She was too exhausted to even think of doing otherwise. She lay there, unmoving, her eyes unfocused, her face wet with tears, not even aware that he’d left until he came back and began cleaning between her legs with a warm, wet cloth. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if she were made of the finest porcelain.
When he was finished, he bent low over her back, pressing his lips tenderly to every bump of her spine, one at a time, starting with the sweet, silky dimple just above the crease of her ass all the way up to her neck. As his mouth traveled northward, an answering heat unfurled within her, traveling straight up her back, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
Threading his left arm between her legs from back to front, he splayed his big hand across the flesh of her belly, holding her like she was something precious. Then his other arm speared beneath her shoulders, and before she even knew what was happening, he lowered himself into the oversized leather chair, while at the same time turning her, lifting her onto his knees, and sliding her up his thighs until she was reclining across his lap. Scooting his hips backward until he was fully seated, he nestled her head in the crook of his right elbow, while his left forearm remained between her legs, sheltering her sex, hand and fingers spread protectively over the soft curve of her belly.
Before she could do more than moan at the residual pleasure still humming through her body, he bent his head and claimed her lips in a kiss so tender it ratcheted up her arousal and sent the blood clamoring through her veins. God, she loved this man with her entire being. How could that be possible when a month ago she hadn’t even known he existed? And yet…“Adam—”
“Hush, angel. Let me talk. It’s something I’ve needed to get off my chest for a while now. I promise I’ll answer all your questions.”
“Adam—” She lifted one hand to cradle the side of his face. “You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready for. I don’t care about the women you’ve been with. They’re part of your past, just as Phillip Nugent, to my eternal shame, is part of mine. Everybody has at least one relationship go bad.”
“Not quite like this,” he said grimly.
What did that mean? “Are you—I mean—” Oh, God! “Um…were you married?” she asked, dreading the answer. She wasn’t sure she was quite ready for even the possibility of an ex-wife out there somewhere with a claim on even the tiniest piece of his heart. She needed every piece of his heart to belong to her.
“No, sweet pea, I’ve never had a wife.”
Well, okay, then, that’s a relief. She relaxed.
He removed his arm from between her legs and put both arms around her, raising her to more of a sitting position. His arms tightened. “I had a slave.”
Her mouth flew open, but shock kept her mute.
A slave! Oh, my God! He had a slave! His own private slave!
“Close your mouth, Sarah. I’m going to explain everything.”
She closed her mouth, but her eyes remained wide with astonishment as she shook her head slightly. “You don’t—”
“Yes, I do,” he said bleakly. “You need to know what kind of a man you’re getting here.”
“I already—”
He jiggled the arms encircling her, in a small gesture of impatience. “Hear me out, love. I’ll try to be as brief as possible.” He took a fortifying breath. “Her name was Jill Baron,” he began slowly, his expression softening as he allowed the memories to cascade through him. Memories he’d kept buried deep inside his soul for far too long. “We met twelve years ago at a private bondage club in San Francisco. Even though I’d always known I was a Dom, I was new to the clubbing scene. She approached me, asked if I’d like to do a scene with her…” his voice trailed off. “It was, up to that point, the most intense BDSM experience I’d ever had.” He tightened his arm around her. “It all happened so fast, Sarah. Within a week, she’d moved in with me and I suddenly realized I was in possession of a full-time, 24/7 sex slave.”
“Were you in love with her?” Sarah asked, knowing she didn’t want to know the answer to this question.
“No.”
She felt the tension drain from her muscles. Well, thank God for that!
“I thought I was. I cared for her, admired her, and respected her. We were good together and the sex was…well, great. For a while I enjoyed having someone at my beck and call, always ready for sex, always eager to do anything I asked. But being a twenty-four seven Master is hard work, requiring a great deal of creativity, patience, time, and personal interaction with one’s slave. Being entirely responsible for everything another human being says, does, eats, or wears, gets old after awhile. I managed to do it for eighteen months, but by the time it ended I no longer had any feelings for her at all.” He grimaced. “As it turned out, Jill was what we in the life refer to as a ‘pain slut.’ Extreme pain turned her on. Not only turned her on, it became her basic reason for living. I found myself less and less willing to administer the beatings she begged me to give her.”
“Beatings?” Sarah asked, aghast. As in…beatings? Holy crap!
His lips thinned. “Beatings.” He nodded. “She began misbehaving, deliberately doing things to defy me in ord
er to make me give her increasingly harsh punishments. One night at our favorite club she began flirting shamelessly with other Doms. To the point where they pulled me aside and told me that if I didn’t punish her, they would. I ordered her to stop it, promising all sorts of dire consequences if she didn’t. But she continued flaunting herself, openly goading me to punish her. Needless to say, I was furious. I hauled her over to the St. Andrew’s Cross, tied her up, and began whipping her. I was so incensed, I didn’t even see her. All I saw was a red haze of rage as I beat her first with the single-tail, then a riding crop, then a rattan cane.
“Even after the cane split, I continued beating her. I couldn’t stop. Until finally some of the Dungeon Monitors pulled me off of her.” He paused, struggling to calm his breathing. He shook his head disbelievingly. “I was consumed with guilt. I had betrayed Jill. I had betrayed myself. I had violated one of the prime rules for Masters, ‘Never punish your slave when you’re angry.’ When I realized what I’d done, and that I’d actually drawn blood, I thought I was going to be sick.
“The Club’s owner, Thorne Cahill, a good friend of mine, sent me home without her, placing her under his personal protection until he felt it was safe to return her to me. But I knew right then and there that it was over. That I could no longer be the Master she needed. At that point, I couldn’t be the Master anybody needed.
“When she came home two days later, we had a long talk. I told her I had to release her, and she seemed agreeable enough. But when I tried to remove her collar, she became hysterical, begging me to reconsider. Swore she didn’t want any Master but me. I told her I would help her find another Master. One who would be happy to give her what she so desperately seemed to need. But it wasn’t going to be me.
Owning Sarah [Sequel to Loving Sarah] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 5