by Jenna Howard
His lips curled. He made a note on the paper. “I wanted a bigger scope today. You can see more here. Down there you’re up close and personal with the dirt and ride. Eat your apple, Meredith.”
She studied his profile as he worked, making her way through the layer of sticky sugar to get to the Macintosh apple beneath. She knew his face better than anyone else’s. The bump in his nose, the scar by his eyebrow from a hockey stick, the square line of his jaw. The black hair that had a few more strands of grey than when she first met him. It wasn’t a gentle face.
When she looked at him she didn’t think that Michael Rossi was a sweetheart of a man.
She looked at him and thought of sex. Silly but true. He was raw and edgy, hard and unrelenting. Power and strength.
Sex.
He turned, looking away from the – what had he called it? – infield and met her gaze. Her heart raced hotly in her chest and it felt like flashes of heat exploded in her stomach. This sexually aggressive, dominant male was hers. She belonged to him. As always a whisper of disbelief moved through her.
The hand on her hip slid over her denim-clad thigh then between her legs. The massage was anything but soothing and need began to flicker to life as he touched her. Automatically she shifted so the heel of his hand rested over the piercing she had gotten for him three months ago. She couldn’t look away from the bottomless brown of his eyes as he worked his strong fingers against her pussy until she was wet and throbbing. Her fingers clung to the wooden stick of her treat like it was a lifeline. The crowd gave an enthusiastic cheer; he squeezed and rubbed.
“You made me miss a ride. No orgasm for you.” He wrote a question mark beside the name and returned to watching, though his hand continued between her legs until she swore she was going to erupt into flames. “Eat your apple, Meri.”
Need and want warred within her. Eat? Eat what?
He kept up the tortuous massage the entire rodeo. By the time the Grandstand show started, she forgot what a horse was. There was only Mike, the master of her body.
****
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on yet?” The taxi drove away from the building they stood in front of. A simple sign by the door read Stealth but she had no idea where they were. There were no windows on the warehouse.
“No,” Mike said, laying his hand on the small of her back. He led her to a set of double doors, the glass tinted black.
She glanced at him. He wore one of his power suits, so at odds when earlier he had been wearing jeans and his black cowboy hat. Mike Rossi in a suit was something every woman should see. His powerful body seemed even larger framed in the black fabric. Returning to the hotel room, she had been sure they would wind up naked in bed. Instead, he had pulled the one nice dress she packed from the closet and told her they were going out again.
The doors opened and it was a surprise to see a guy bigger than Mike standing there in a black T-shirt with Stealth on the left breast. A bouncer. They were at a club? Mike was the last person she’d ever imagine entering a nightclub. Not that bars were her thing either. Too much noise from the music and people interfered with having a good time. Her nose wrinkled as she looked at Mike. “Really?”
His grin was mischievous. “Really.” They stopped at an enclosed window where a girl sat in a nearly dark room. “I’m a guest,” he said, his hand caressing up Meri’s back. When he reached bare skin above her black dress, he lightly caressed her spine making her skin tingle. “Mike Rossi plus one.”
The girl consulted a computer. “Of course, Mr. Rossi. Welcome to Stealth.” Something black was passed to him. “Have you been to Stealth before?”
“A long time ago,” he said.
Was that a mask?
Nervous now, Meri watched him lay the mask over her eyes. He stepped behind her, tying the sends. He kissed her shoulder, his hands stroking down her arms. “Relax, Meri.”
“Everything must be consensual,” the woman said behind the glass. “You may not touch anyone else without permission granted unless they are with the club. Those associated with the club will be wearing blue masks. If at anytime you or your submissive are considered to be a danger to anyone, you will be asked to leave. No phones or recording devices are allowed inside and we ask that they be left at the front desk. As a guest, you do not have access to any private rooms. Again, welcome to Stealth.”
Him or his submissive? Her eyebrows climbed behind her mask. Mike settled his own mask over his face.
How did you make a large, muscular man look even bigger?
Make him look anonymous.
Her heart fluttered with a combination of nerves and appreciation. The letter D was beside his left eye, and the half mask made his blunt jaw seem more so. A second door was opened and this man wore a blue mask.
“Welcome to Stealth.”
It was another small room and she watched as Mike handed over his phone. Meri passed over her purse. Mike stared at her, his head tilted to the side. “What?”
He stepped behind her. “Do you trust me, little love?”
The question made her heart pound fast. “Yes,” she said slowly. Against her back she felt the zipper open. She flattened her hands on her chest when the straps slid down her shoulders. “Michael?”
He kissed her neck, her shoulder, the small of her back bared by her open dress. “As always, you have the right to say yes or no.”
Her head gave a little shake and he eased the zipper back up. “What is this place?”
He grinned down at her. “A playground of sorts.” The hand on her back guided her to another set of doors that seemed to open magically. Her eyes went wide behind the mask. Mike stood behind her, his body familiar.
Well, at least she knew where they were. Stealth was a club alright. And it was all about BDSM. A woman was tied up in ropes above the entryway. She was naked. Another woman walked beneath her, flicked her wrist and the snap of a whip made Meri jump. The bound woman cried out in pleasure, her body writhing in the ropes.
“Holy shit,” Meri whispered as she gazed around. Finally she turned to face Mike. His head was tilted as he gazed at the woman tied up. He had mentioned clubs before, arousing her curiosity. Now here they were.
He looked down at her and ran his thumb over her opened mouth. “I used to be friends with the one of owners,” he said softly. “It’s just like my room, little love, only with more people. Shall we look around?”
She nodded slowly, turning so she could gaze up at the woman above the floor. She was just out of reach of hands. A blatant statement of you can look, you can play with but you cannot touch. Her own wrists tingled at the sight of the knots and rope wrapped around the naked woman. She looked like a mermaid who had been caught in a fishing net, all that was missing was her tail.
A Dom walked beneath, reaching his arm up and trailing the crop he held along the woman’s back. No pain was given, just a teasing hint of the power he had. Goosebumps slid up her own spine as she watched him.
Mike’s hands stroked down her arms then settled on her waist. “Shall we go in?”
She nodded and they walked under the woman. A man leaned against the wall, his arms folded as he watched from behind his black mask. She should’ve felt over dressed in the open room Mike guided her into. There were naked men and women but some were dressed. Everything from jeans to corsets to suits to costumes. Anything went here, apparently. Just like the sex.
It was sinful decadence, she realized, leaning against Mike. Cries of pain, cries of arousal, barks of whips and crops, and conversation created an erotic orchestra. Against her ass, Mike was aroused, his hands always moving on her body as they watched.
“Do you want to go play too?” His voice was a low rumble of temptation, his hands sliding down to her thighs. Her pussy clenched. Before them a woman was being worked over with a crop. She was bent over a waist high bench, her arms in bondage cuffs and chained to the floor. Her back was decorated in red stripes from neck to ankles. A tube of lipstick sat on t
he bench.
Watching her be cropped made Meri’s thighs tighten as she grew wet with arousal, with envy. She nodded once and Mike eased her around so she sprawled against his chest. He leaned against the wall and he watched her, only her. His hands stroked up her back and once more she felt him ease the zipper open. Slowly he drew the dress up until she felt warm air on her ass, against her aching pussy. Against her thighs she felt the fabric of his pants, his belt buckle pressed into her belly. The silky satiny texture of his tie brushed her breasts and finally the dress was gone. “Rossi,” he said, handing it over to a blue masked body who appeared.
Mike lowered his head and kissed her slowly. She was naked to a room of strangers. She knew they were there but all she could see was Mike.
Lips brushed her scars and she jumped in shock. A man knelt there, his eyes hidden behind a mask with a small scripty letter s by his eye. Once again he kissed her thigh, rolled to his feet and walked away. It wasn’t sexual. Just a kiss to make it feel better.
Mike lowered his head and kissed her cheek then he guided her into the room. As they walked by the girl being cropped, she cried out her orgasm. A man reached out, picked up the tube of lipstick and drew a red line on her breast. There were a lot of lines.
Meri stopped when Mike did. He picked up some cuffs that were on a tray held by a club employee. Her own arousal grew. Mike wrapped the cuff around one wrist then the other. He looked strong and overwhelming in his suit. He clasped the cuffs together, winked at her then stretched her arms above her head until they were attached to a chain dangling from the ceiling.
“You are,” he said as his hands slid down her arms to cup her breasts, “breathtaking, little love.” Her nipples were hard from all the stimulation around them but mostly because of him. Leaning down, he drew one aching tip into his mouth causing her to cry out. His tongue flicked and circled, his hands moving down to her waist. He knelt at her feet and pressed a kiss to the scar under her belly button. Cuffs were wrapped around her ankles and he spread her legs open. His breath teased her clit and brushed over the damp, aching flesh of her pussy. He kissed her thigh then looked up at her. “Shall we play?”
He grinned at her nod then rolled to his feet in a graceful movement. She watched him walk away. He removed his suit jacket and handed it to an employee. His fingers brushed over a collection of crops and her belly tightened. Not in fear though. He may frighten her heart but not because of this. Never this.
Another mouth pressed against her thigh and she jumped in surprise. She looked down to see a female this time, wearing the same kind of mask as the others. S, she thought, for submissive. A collar was at the woman’s neck and attached to that was a leash. An honest to goodness leash. It was tugged and the woman crawled away. There was a butt plug in her ass and Meri giggled to see it, because it looked like a dog’s tail. Wagging as she crawled.
Mike returned with a riding crop. The flat of leather was brushed over her nipples and she gazed into his brown eyes. His lips curled upwards as his wrist flicked. The strike wasn’t hard but a sting blossomed from her breast and she gasped out in pleasure. He made her body dance with joy when they were like this. All her uncertainties and fears couldn’t withstand this man when he was like this. He drew a curving line to her hip and delivered another short, snapping strike. Her belly, the inside of her left thigh, her calf, her other breast, her pussy. All were given the same flicks until there were no females crawling on the floor like a dog, no other men. Just Mike.
Only Mike.
“May I?”
The voice dragged her out of her head and she watched a man crouch down. Fingers brushed over her scars and she tried to pull away. “Gently,” he murmured then leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the mess of skin. Against her back she felt Mike’s weight. Tears spilled as the Dom stood, nodded at Mike then walked away.
“Do you know why I love your scars so much? They are a testimony to the pain you can take. Can you take the pain I give you? Let it wash over your body from a strike, a slash, a cut. And with each pain I give you, my little submissive, I’d take it away from you. So this,” his hand caressed over the scar on her ribs, “doesn’t hurt. This,” he traced the one on her side, “doesn’t bleed. This,” he sought the small scar on her abdomen, “makes that empty ache go away.” A tear slid down her cheek and he caught it on his tongue. “And this,” he caressed her thigh, “will make you fly.
“I will take your pain from you, little love. Take it from you one lash at a time, each cry from your mouth. I will take it into me,” Another tear fell and he let it slide, freeing a hot ache within her. “Where it will stay, forever. Because what hurts you isn’t allowed. The only pain you feel comes from me because you know I will take it from you with a kiss.”
He eased around her and kissed her, a slow deep kiss she felt all the way to her fragile heart. Tell him, her broken heart whispered, her tongue meeting every brush of his. He ran the handle of the crop under her chin, the smooth leather warmed from his hand. Above her head the chains rattled and clinked together as they were loosened. Gazing up, she stared into the darkened rafters where the chains disappeared.
When there was enough slack, Mike pressed his knee gently against hers. Meri sank onto her knees. As she continued to gaze, there was the melodic sound of the chains holding her arms above her head once more, the slack disappeared.
She heard fabric rustle and felt his legs against her as he crouched down behind her. His finger drew a line along her jaw. A tingly trail followed. “I’m about to take you across a line, Meredith. I’m about to obliterate it.” His touch vanished. “As always there is a choice for you. Yes or no. Think carefully and be honest.”
Lips tickled her ear as he whispered what he wanted. He moved away from her, leaving her to decide. Images flickered through her head. Fear and uncertainty, arousal and curiosity. She thought of Mike. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. “Yes.”
He didn’t ask if she was sure. “Beautiful, little love,” he said, running his finger over her lips, “open for me.”
The ball gag he eased in made her hands fist and her tongue shift as if it would keep it from sliding down her throat. Her jaw hurt from biting down on it, again to keep it in place. It wouldn’t move but it was psychological.
Fingers caressed her throat as he murmured at her to breathe, relax. It took awhile but she stopped fighting the ball, stopped fearing it. He licked her lips spread over the ball then cupped her breast with one hand. Thank God for the gag, she thought because she had something to bite into when he eased the thin silver strand over her nipple then tightened it. Painfully. The gag muffled her cry when the second nipple was decorated.
She was going to come. It pulsed hotly in her core, tightening her stomach.
Her wrists were released from above her head and she missed the slight pull in her arms at being held helpless to his domination. She shivered when he moved her hands behind her, attaching her wrists to the cuffs at her ankles. She knelt there, his words moving through her head. Was she going to do this?
Yes, she thought. Yes, she was.
He eased off his tie and covered her eyes. There was no more club, no more anonymous people. He eased away, leaving her in her dark world that felt…wonderful.
Michael was gone. The master had come to play.
Chapter Four
Mike watched her. Fingers slid through the dark gold of her hair. Her breasts quivered and jerked as she breathed heavily through her nose. A hand fisted on the still damp strands and yanked her head back.
The man walked around Meri like a lion circling a gazelle that was his chosen meal. He stopped in front of her and traced her mouth wrapped around the gag.
Did she know that someone else was touching her?
The soft grind of a zipper opening seemed overly loud in the club and Mike couldn’t look away as the man freed his cock, standing before his Meri. Her breasts rose and fell while a hand fisted behind her. Mike was possessive but watching
that heavy dick hover inches above her face was erotic. Once, twice the man fisted himself then began to trace the circle of her mouth with the head of his dick. Round and round he drew a line until her lips glistened with pre-cum and her body vibrated.
Meri aroused was an amazing sight.
The gag was removed from her mouth and he watched as the man replaced it with his dick. This was not the first time Mike had shared a submissive. He and his ex-wife had shared many pleasurable nights with his former best friend. Until the two had started an affair. And Erica had married Chance Bremner.
Now here he was again. With the same fucking man! He wasn’t sure how he felt about Chance but he trusted no other man with Meri. How ironic was that?
That, however, did not negate the fact that watching Chance Bremner feed his cock into Meri’s mouth was erotic as shit. A hard shudder moved through her and he knew she had just come. Fingers tightened in her hair and jerked her head back hard. Then the man began to fuck her mouth. A relentless rhythm that muffled her cries and moans. A savage curse burned from Chance and Mike watched Meri’s mouth be filled. Her hands opened then shut. Her hips moved, her thighs trying to squeeze together to stop her own orgasm from spilling from her as another man’s cum flooded her throat. Sexy.
Mike’s cock throbbed to join them. The man fisted his dick as if to push every last drop of semen into her mouth. Chance eased his cock out, replacing it with the gag. Silvery streams of cum slid down from her mouth.
Mike gazed at Meri, ignoring the other man completely. He crouched before her, then wiped a stream from her cheek. He used a towel a club sub handed him to clean himself. She had gone still at that little touch but he could see the frantic thumping of her pulse at the base of her throat. The fabric of his tie was damp over her eyes. Gently he caressed her jaw as he rose above her. As he touched her, he felt tiny vibrations moving through her body.
Claim, conquer, take, mark.
The words roared through his brain, the primitive cries to reclaim what had been touched by another. His cock was heavy and hot for her. Always. She was his, god damn it. Didn’t she know that?