Power Play: The Complete Collection

by Selena Kitt

  “Please! Ohhhh!”

  “Don’t come,” he warned her, turning the vibrator just a little, easing off slightly. “Don’t come until I tell you to.”

  She whimpered, straining, holding back. He could feel her thighs against his, so tense. He slipped the vibrator back, slow, slow, hearing her cry out. She wanted it. But he made her wait, leaving just the tip in, watching it rotate around and around just inside her entrance. Fuck, that was hot.

  “Good girl.” He praised her again, smiling to himself as he shifted forward again, driving the vibrator in deep, hearing her strangled cry. “Take that cock. Take it!”

  “Ahhhhh!” Elena’s head went back, a low, animal sound escaping her throat.

  He gave it all to her, fucking it deep and hard into her cunt, everything going full tilt. She was almost sobbing, her whole body shuddering.

  “That’s a girl,” he urged, fucking her deeper still, wondering if he was hurting her, but he hadn’t heard the word ‘butterfly,’ so he went on. “Get ready, baby. You’re going to come so hard for me.”

  She was. He could tell. Far harder than she’d ever come before for him, and that was saying something. Orgasm or no orgasm, Elena was flying. It was beautiful.

  He shoved the vibrator in flush, leaving it there, rotating, humming against her clit.

  “Come!” he ordered, keeping the vibrator there with his body as he stretched himself over her so he could growl the word into her ear. “Come for me! Now, Elena! Now!”

  She screamed and let it loose, like the Hoover Dam bursting, her body shaking under him like she was having a seizure. He felt the vibrator still humming in her pussy, held there by the press of his own cock. He felt everything, every twitch and spasm, every wet gasp and thrash. Elena came and came for him, loud and long, music to his ears, until she was completely spent, breathing harsh in his ear, her hair damp and stuck to her forehead, the blindfold slightly askew.

  He reached down, easing the vibrator out and turning it off, but he didn’t give her much relief, because in the next minute he slid inside of her, hips thrusting forward all on their own, burying himself deep. Elena called his name when he entered her and he kissed her quiet, tongue thrusting deep into her mouth. She was so fucking wet. Thank god. It gave him a little less traction, a little less friction, and might let him hold out a little longer.

  Maybe.

  Elena sucked at his tongue, her little body meeting his thrusts as best she could, tied up as she was. Don tried to go slow, savoring the slickness of her cunt, all her juices and the oil mixed together, a hot, wet bath for his cock. He reveled in it, poised above her so he could watch himself fuck her, see his cock parting her labia again and again. He thought briefly about untying her, rolling her over and pounding her from behind, but he didn’t have that kind of time. He was going to fill her cunt within minutes. His cum was boiling in his balls, his sac so tight it felt like they were tucked inside his body.

  “Elena,” he whispered, dipping his head to her ear as he drove into her pussy, a complete animal now. He flashed back to the lion, claiming his lioness, and knew this was just the same. This was his woman. She was his.

  “Yes!” she cried, rolling her hips, as if she understood what he was thinking.

  “You’re mine!” he growled, driving in deep, feeling his body slipping past the point of no return. “Do you understand me? You’re mine, Elena. Mine.”

  “Yes, Sir!” she gasped. “Yes! Yes!”

  “Ohhh fuuuckk.” He rutted hard into her sloppy wet cunt, the head of his cock rubbing deep, the slippery wet wall of her pussy beginning to spasm.

  “Ohhh I can’t! I can’t!” Elena was coming. He felt her climax around his shaft, deep in her womb, each contraction drawing him deeper. “Commmmminnng!”

  He thrust and came too, his mind completely gone. He was all animal, biting her neck, marking his territory with the spread of his seed deep in her womb. He couldn’t bury himself deep enough, fuck her hard enough, claim her any more. She was his and he was hers.

  It was done.

  It took him a few minutes to remember. Where he was. Who he was. What he was doing.

  Then he withdrew, kissing her sweat-dampened skin, tasting the salt of her submission on his tongue. He’d never tasted anything sweeter.

  He untied her first, rubbed her reddened wrists and ankles with lotion, whispered how beautiful, how amazing, how his she was. Elena fell, trembling, into his arms, clutching him around the neck and gasping against his chest. He put everything away, back in the case, before he unblindfolded her.

  Elena blinked at him in the lamp light—the sun had gone down, as he had predicted—and when their eyes met, hers were shining. He had an urge to ask, “How’d I do?” and quelled it.

  “Oh, Don.” She breathed him in, snuggled naked against him. “I’m so…”

  “Hmm?” he prompted after a few moments of her silence. “So what?”

  “Happy,” she said finally, kissing him on the cheek and rolling to the edge of the bed. “So very happy.”

  He smiled, watching her walk naked toward the bathroom. She was still oiled up and the sight of her slick skin made his cock jump again. There were still plenty of toys to play with tonight, he reasoned, silently patting himself on the back for a job well done.

  He heard her phone ring and frowned. Her clothes were in the bathroom—her skirt, where she’d left her phone. He heard her answer.

  “Hello?”

  He could see her, half in and half out of the bathroom. Elena froze, the phone in her hand.

  “Who is it?” Don asked, up on his elbows.

  “Oh?” She stepped further into the little bathroom, the light haloing her blonde hair. She looked like an angel. “Yeah… Okay… Mmm-hmm…”

  He couldn’t discern from her responses who it might be. She didn’t know anyone in town except him. And Jeannie. Maybe it was Jeannie. Although from the way she sat down on the closed toilet lid, hiding her eyes, he doubted it. Don got out of bed, slipping his robe off the hook next to the door and slipping it on.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  Elena was just listening now and when she looked up at him, there were tears in her eyes. Alarmed, Don leaned in closer, although he didn’t really have to. The phone’s tinny speaker was loud and he could hear a man’s voice coming through, reverberating in the small bathroom.

  “Who?” Don asked, nodding at the phone, knowing even before she mouthed the man’s name—Rick.

  “Listen to me, you fucking bitch!” Those words, coming through the speaker, made Don see red. He grabbed the phone from her hand, putting it up to his ear.

  “You listen to me, asshole!” Don cut him off. “Don’t ever call this number again. Ever. You understand me?”

  “Who in the hell is this?”

  “Your worst nightmare. Now fuck off.”

  He clicked “end” and put the phone down on the counter. Elena’s tears fell onto her bare thighs and Don couldn’t bear it. He gathered her up, taking her back to bed. No more sex—plans had changed. Instead, he pulled the covers over them both and held her close, whispering that it was going to be okay, he would make it okay. And he was determined that it was, it would be. He would make sure of it.

  Elena didn’t speak. She didn’t reveal what Rick had said, in spite of Don’s questions. She just cried silently and let him hold her, drying her tears with the edge of the sheet until she finally fell asleep in his arms. He wouldn’t press her, not about this. She would tell him, when she was ready.

  It was the first mistake he made as her Dom, but it wouldn’t be the last.

  * * * *

  Don had read something about subs “flying” when they got into the zone, but he wondered if it happened to Doms too, because he’d felt like he was flying for a week. Elena looked at him like he was a god and the more she worshipped him, the higher he flew. He sat down at the keyboard and beat his own word count day after day. His imagination was
cracked wide open. His life. His heart. Elena had come to him like a whirlwind. He’d been turned around, upside down, inside out, and here they were, face to face again.

  He loved her. He knew it but hadn’t told her yet. Did loving her make him weak? Would she think he’d given in to his softer side? Because Don had gotten the hang of the “Dom thing” and their sex life had taken off too, hitting heights he couldn’t have imagined previously. Diana liked Elena, Jeannie liked her, he was mad for her. There was nothing that could stop them now. After Anne, he never thought he would ever get involved again, but here he was. He’d fallen far deeper this time, something he didn’t know was possible.

  What happened next was his own fault.

  He should have thought of it when he gave Elena a key, but he didn’t. It didn’t occur to him until Anne was standing in his bedroom doorway, mouth agape, staring at the blindfolded woman handcuffed to the headboard. He came out of the bathroom with a cup full of ice and a riding crop wearing just a pair of boxers to find his ex-wife there holding the house key still in her hand. Of course, he’d never asked for it back. It had never occurred to him.

  Until then.

  “What in the hell is going on here?” Anne’s voice trembled as she looked from Elena to him like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

  “Don?” Elena’s head came up and his heart sank. Jesus Christ. How was he going to explain this? Any of this? To either of them?

  “Donnie?” Anne prompted, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “It’s Don.” He took two strides toward her, yanking the house key out of her hand. “And this is none of your business.”

  He pushed her back out of the doorway with his bulk, shutting the bedroom door behind him. Anne didn’t want to go. Anne wanted a fight. He knew the look on her face well enough.

  “Get the hell out of my house,” he told her, pointing down the hall. “If you come in here again without my permission, I will call the cops.”

  “Don’t you threaten me, Donnie!” she snapped, pointing down the hall toward the room they used to sleep in together. “I want to know what the hell is going on! Why is that woman handcuffed to the bed? And blindfolded? What sort of sick thing are you into?”

  “It’s none of your business,” he reiterated, taking her by the elbow and steering her toward the front door.

  “Don!” He heard Elena calling for him. Fuck. He had to get back.

  “It most certainly is my business!” Anne shook loose. “My daughter sleeps in this house!”

  “This doesn’t happen when Diana is here.” He opened the front door, the afternoon breeze cool on his skin. “Now I’d appreciate it if you would leave.”

  “Oh, so you admit it’s sick and perverted!” Anna scowled.

  “No.” He waved her out the door but she didn’t go. “Anne, don’t make me call the cops.”

  “You?” She snorted at his threat. “Just wait. I’ve got a few phone calls of my own to make, Donnie. You. Just. Wait!”

  She poked him in the chest three times, punctuating each word, as she went by. He slammed the door behind her, too furious to think. He was clenching the key still in his hand so hard it left teeth marks in his palm. He locked the door—it would stay locked this time—hearing Elena still calling for him.

  He tossed the key on the end table, heading back down the hall and taking a deep breath before opening the door. He didn’t want to go back in there angry, so he gave him a few moments, in spite of Elena’s calls. She was still blindfolded and handcuffed to the bedpost but the sight of her didn’t elicit the usual response in him.

  “It’s okay,” he soothed, going over to take off her blindfold. Elena looked up at him, wide-eyed. She’d obviously deduced what happened.

  “She’s going to do something awful,” Elena whispered, staring at the place Anne had vacated.

  “What could she possibly do?” he scoffed, reaching for the handcuff keys. “We’re divorced, remember? She can’t do anything to hurt us, sweetheart.”

  He couldn’t have been more wrong.

  * * * *

  “Nothing, Don!” Elena was on a stool, trying to reach up to the top of the bookshelf to dust, something that normally would have had his cock hard as a rock, but not today. “I swear, I ran into the stupid door while I was cleaning houses.”

  “Do you really expect me to believe that?” he fumed, sitting back in his office chair, arms crossed. “What am I, stupid?”

  She sighed, coming down off the stool and turning to face him, feather duster still in hand. “Well what other explanation is there?”

  “That’s a good question.” He stood, moving to take her into his arms to soften his anger. He wasn’t angry at her. But there was something going on, something she was keeping from him, and he didn’t like it. “But I damned well know bruises don’t just show up on faces out of nowhere.”

  “I told you,” she protested, trying to twist away, but he wouldn’t let her.

  “You told me something,” he replied softly, holding her tight. She stopped squirming. “Now tell me the truth.”

  Elena opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She blinked up at him and he knew she was on the verge of telling him. He had a feeling he knew—although he didn’t want that to be it. Because if it was, he was going to have to do something about it. Something drastic.

  Then the doorbell rang.

  “Goddamnit,” he swore. Elena looked relieved but he wasn’t going to let her off that easy. “This isn’t done. We’re still talking.”

  He stalked down the hallway, pulling the door open, expecting some kid selling magazine subscriptions. Instead, a young woman in a tidy business suit smiled up at him.

  “Hi there.” Don looked at the woman on his doorstep with idle curiosity. She was too old to be selling anything, but she didn’t have a copy of the Watchtower under her arm either, the hallmark of the Jehovah’s Witnesses who canvassed the area on occasion. “Can I help you?”

  “Are you Donald Hammond?”

  “Yes.” He glanced at her car, a silver Subaru. No decal on the side. He asked again, “Can I do something for you?”

  “My name is Sarah Benson. I’m from the Department of Social Services. We got a call concerning your daughter, Diana. Can I come in?”

  “Diana? Is she all right?” Don stepped back to let her into the house, his heart dropping.

  “Don!” Elena called—she was in the kitchen now. “Who is it?”

  Thankfully, their argument had precluded him unpacking any of their toys in the bedroom yet. He didn’t want to think what would have happened if this woman had interrupted that! He’d been writing, on quite a roll, before Elena arrived. And then after he’d seen the bruise, well…

  “She’s fine,” the social worker assured him. She was a younger woman, in her twenties, dark brown hair falling to the shoulders of her navy blue pinstriped suit. “I spoke to her at school a few hours ago.”

  “You did?” Don frowned, arms crossed. “I’m confused. Can you tell me why you’re here?”

  “Don?” Elena came around the corner, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

  “Oh, sorry, Elena, this is…” Don hesitated, glancing at the younger woman. “What was your name again?”

  “Sarah.” The social worker held out her hand to Elena, who shook it. “Sarah Benson. I’m with the Department of Social Services.”

  Elena looked to Don, brow knitted.

  “Is there something we can do for you?” Elena asked.

  “Well, actually we received a report of…” Sarah Benson checked her notes, as if to be sure. “Inhospitable living conditions.”

  “What?” Don stared at her, aghast. “Who said that?”

  “I’m sorry, all our reports are anonymous.” The social worker closed her case file. “Your daughter did say you had an ant problem. And mice?”

  “In the spring,” he said, wincing at the memory. His house, his life, everything had been a mess back then. “You k
now how it is when it gets warm. I had an exterminator in.”

  The social worker smiled, which was encouraging, and then said, “Well the house looks lovely.”

  “Thank you,” Elena murmured, dish towel still in hand.

  “Would you mind if I took a look around?” Sarah asked. “It’s just, you know, procedure.”

  “I’ll give you the grand tour.” Don nodded and gave her a grim smile, not meeting Elena’s concerned gaze. He knew exactly who had called Social Services and did his best to try to hide the fact he was imagining a thousand ways he could possibly murder his ex without being caught.

  Of course it was Anne. He was fuming inside. And what else had she told this woman? But he knew his ex. She wouldn’t dare mention anything sexual. She wouldn’t have the balls. But she had been too late on the housekeeping front. Don took the social worker from room to spotless room, where she nodded in satisfaction. He even showed her the basement, which, while piled with a few boxes, was clean and mice-free.

  “Well, I’m sorry about this, Mr. Hammond,” she said as they came up from the basement. “Sometimes these reports are erroneous, but we do have to check them out. You don’t happen to be going through a divorce? In the middle of a custody battle perhaps? Or renegotiating your child support?”

  “No.” Don smiled grimly. He knew what she was thinking. “I’ve been divorced over a year and a half. But I do have a new girlfriend. Elena and I have been dating for a few months.”

  “Ah.” The social worker gave a little nod, noting something in the case file, glancing up at Elena, who stood at the sink, loading the dishwasher. She leaned forward, hair in her face, not looking up.

  “I’m sorry you made a wasted trip.” Don gritted his teeth, imagining Anne making that call. What had she been thinking? Just what did she think was going to happen? Maybe she’d hoped the social worker would interrupt them, like she had. “I’m sure there are plenty of kids out there who really do need your help.”

  “Indeed there are,” Sarah agreed. “But no trip is wasted.”

  A glass slipped from Elena’s fingers, shattering on the floor, glass scattering in every direction.