by Sabrina York
And she knew any refusal would end this immediately.
She did not want to fail him.
Fingers teased her pussy lips, dabbed in, just a bit. “Oh. You’re wet, you naughty slave,” Madame Monique hissed after one particularly aggressive swipe.
Tess swallowed a mortified moan. God, yes, she was. Her training hadn’t even really begun and already her body was on fire.
But as tantalizing as this scene was, it wasn’t what she really wanted. Oh, yes she craved submission, but she craved it with Jared.
She was merely marking time until she could be with him.
The butler positioned her before the mirror so Tess could witness her transformation. Her heart thudded at the sight. She looked like a slave wreathed in leather and delicate chains. Her breasts, high and proud, were confined, forced into a conical prison. Her cunt was framed in leather. Dampness glistened her thighs.
“One more thing.”
Tess’ heart stuttered when she saw Madame Monique coming forward with wrist shackles. Oh. No. Tess stepped back in mute resistance and shook her head, grappling with the emotions clawing at her belly.
Yes, this outfit and the prospect of going to Jared wearing it thrilled her beyond bearing. And the thought of having her hands tied, okay, that thought was pretty exciting too.
But standing helpless before Jared was one thing. Helpless before complete strangers was quite another. Especially with the lambent light in Madame Monique’s smoky eyes.
Madame noticed her hesitation and her lip curled. “Hmph. I told him she wasn’t serious.” She shot a frown at the butler, who smirked.
“Yes Ma’am.”
“You can’t just pick up a random girl in a bar and expect her to submit properly.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Tess’ heart stuttered. Her mind spun, torn between strong instincts for self-preservation and the desire to be what Jared wanted. She’d spent her life seeking safety. Buffering herself in a cocoon.
But cocoons could be prisons too.
She wanted, needed more.
Slowly, she raised her wrists before her, a silent acceptance of complete submission.
She heard Madame Monique’s breath catch, felt the slight reverberation of her moan. Heard her mutter, “Damn.”
The butler did not waste any time. In a heartbeat, he affixed the shackles around her wrists and clipped each to a ring on her girdle. Even though she knew what to expect, even though she had, in effect, asked for it, it still surprised her to be so constrained. She tested her bonds, jerking one hand and then another. They didn’t budge.
Heat and horror and a thin slice of arousal licked through her body, sizzling along every nerve. She was helpless. Panic rose.
Ah, but it was far too late for panic.
Madame Monique studied her. A pink tongue peeped out and wet her red lips. “Damn, you’re beautiful. Jared is one fucking lucky guy.”
The butler stepped forward, ostensibly to test her restraints. He tugged on one strap and then another and his fingers lingered on her thigh. “Aren’t we going to collar her?”
Was it Tess’ imagination, or was that a glint of unstodgy lust in his eyes?
“No. Jared wants the pleasure.” Madame Monique walked around her several more times, tweaking this and adjusting that. She stood back and made one more thorough pass, taking in the pouting nipples, the shackled hands locked to Tess’ sides and the tight girdle pressing over her cunt. “I think she’s ready.”
“Very good, Ma’am.” The butler nodded and headed for the closet. He emerged with a cloak, which he wrapped around Tess’ shoulders.
“Darling.” Madame Monique leaned in, slipping a hand beneath the cloak to squeeze a nipple. Tess winced. “It’s been a pleasure. And if Jared ever decides to share,” she pinched again, “tell him to call me first.”
Tess didn’t respond. She couldn’t. She was far too close, so close, to seeing Jared again. And this time, she would belong to him.
At least for the night.
The emotion rendered her mute.
Chapter Three
The car waiting at the curb was expensive and sleek. The butler guided her into the backseat and, to Tess’ surprise, slid in beside her. The look on his face as he barked an address to the driver sent panic scudding through her.
It was very unlike his earlier subservient mien. Indeed, as soon as the car engine roared to life, he set his hand on her thigh. She stiffened and pulled away, although with her hands bound to her hips, she could hardly resist. He chuckled and opened the lapels of her cloak. The cool air puckered her nipples.
“No point in resisting, my sweet,” he murmured, taking one nipple between his thumb and forefinger and drawing it out until she whimpered. “I’m under orders.”
“U-under orders?” It occurred to her these were the first words she’d spoken in a long while.
“Yes. We can’t deliver you cold, now can we?”
“C-cold?” She didn’t feel cold. She felt hot. His fingers found her clit and he tugged at that as well. She tried to shift away but couldn’t.
“Mmm.” He dipped his head and sucked in a rosy crest, nibbled then let it go with a pop. “Now stop talking or I will have to punish you.”
She bit her lip to hold back her cries, her resistance, her pleasure. She sat in silence as the butler toyed with her nipples and clit. He fished around in a pocket and brought out a small, stiff bristle brush. She couldn’t hold back her cry as he dragged it slowly over one nipple and then the other.
As she threw back her head, she made eye contact with the driver through the rear-view mirror. Mortification washed through her but with it a strange, sweet pleasure.
Her voice was garbled as she cried out. An orgasm hovered close. If only he would touch her there. She yanked at her restraints in frustration.
The butler chuckled. “Patience, little slave. This is nothing compared to what your Master has in store for you.”
Tess shuddered. Hearing Jared referred to as her Master made her go limp.
“We’re almost there.”
Tess jumped at the driver’s low, scratchy voice. Passion thrummed through her. Almost there.
“Almost there?” The butler sighed. “I’ve barely begun.” He plucked at an aching nipple. “Once more around the block.”
Her heart lurched. Dear God, no!
The driver, there in the shadows, quirked a brow. “Sir?” A dark rumble, oddly comforting. It reminded Tess she wasn’t utterly alone. With him.
“Once more around the block,” the butler snapped, impatient.
As soon as the car sped up, he resumed teasing but now with a frenetic energy spurred by the knowledge he was almost out of time. He lashed her with a vicious tongue, pinched and slapped her nipples, making her moan and squirm and dampen the leather seats.
When the car finally screeched to a halt, the driver leaped out and came around to open the door for them. But when the butler finally lifted his head, when he finally helped her awkwardly exit the car, the driver was nowhere to be seen.
Tess couldn’t have been happier. She didn’t want to have to face the man who had witnessed her humiliation.
The butler solicitously closed the lapels of her cloak and led her up the stairs to the double-doored entrance of an elegant brownstone. He raised his hand to knock but before he could, the door flew open.
Jared—delicious, disheveled, discomfited Jared—stood there breathing heavily. He raked his fingers through his hair. “What the hell took you so long?”
The butler offered a sly smirk. “Traffic, Sir.” Impervious to Jared’s glower, he bowed. “Your slave, Sir. As you requested.”
Jared’s gaze swung to Tess and he froze. He drew a wayward strand of hair from her cheek. “Come in,” he murmured. “Not you.” He glared at the butler, who tried to follow.
“Very good, Sir.” Tension crackled between the two men. Jared’s expression was anything but playful. He looked ready to kill. The butler
put out his chest and tugged on his waistcoat. “You will receive our bill.”
Jared loomed over the man. “Like you didn’t try to take payment?” He leaned in closer and hissed, “I thought I was clear.”
“Very good, Sir.”
The butler’s aplomb seemed to infuriate him but Jared merely pushed him back off the threshold and slammed the door in his face.
Jared stared at Tess for an eternity. She didn’t move, barely breathed. She couldn’t believe she was here before him. Bound.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She wanted to lower her eyes but didn’t.
“I’m sorry about that. Dennison is a prick. I should have…” He trailed off. His Adam’s apple bobbled. And after a moment, “Are you…ready for this?”
“Yes.” A whisper.
“Are you sure?” His body radiated intensity. It was written on his face.
She swallowed. “Yes.”
“If at any time you want to stop, you simply have to say the one word that has no place between us. Do you know what that word is?”
Silently, she shook her head.
“Marla.”
The laugh snorted out of her nose because her lips were pressed together so tightly.
“You agree?”
She nodded.
“Say, ‘Yes Master’. You know that’s what I want to hear.”
Her skin tightened, her blood thrummed. She shifted from one foot to the other and licked her lips. He tracked every move.
“Yes…Master.” It was so difficult holding his gaze as she whispered those words. But she did.
Something broke within him, a tension that had been holding him hostage. He smiled. God. What a smile. “Well, then. Let’s see what Monique has created.” He untied the cloak and let it fall from her shoulders.
Tess shuddered as her bound body was exposed.
His nostrils flared and his eyes hardened to icy chips as they roved over her restraints. His perusal snagged on her caged breasts. She lowered her chin as he studied her. He tipped it back up with two gentle fingers.
“Always on my face, Tess.” It was a gentle reminder, but a thread of steel laced his tone.
“Yes Master.”
“God, you’re gorgeous.” He cupped her breast and circled her red nipple with his thumb. She winced. “Damn Dennison. I think he bruised you. Does this hurt?”
“Yes Master.”
“Do you like it?” His tone was ragged, as though he couldn’t bear to hear the answer.
She nodded, one short bob of her head. “But…”
He tensed. “But?”
“I wanted it to be you.”
His nostrils flared. A muscle ticked in his cheek. His fingers tightened on her sensitized flesh. “I think we should get started.”
It could have been her imagination but she thought for sure she heard a crack in his voice.
He took her elbow and led her from the foyer, down the hallway and through a large double door. It opened on a chamber not unlike Madame Monique’s boudoir, although this room had a much more masculine aura. In that, it was far more arousing. And more frightening.
He positioned her at the center of the room and sat on the couch, a heavy leather creation with rings at both ends and various shackles and loops mounted along the frame. Her mind reeled, imagining what they were for.
“Go onto your knees before me, Tess.”
She took her time, moving awkwardly because her hands were restrained at her hips. Slowly, she knelt.
“Now, come toward me.”
She was glad his carpet was thick. Still, the wool scraped against her knees. As she approached, he spread his legs, urging her closer. She didn’t stop until she was against the couch, cradled by his thighs, gazing up at his beautiful face.
“We have some things to discuss.”
“Yes Master.”
He stroked her cheek, nudged at her lower lip with his thumb. She opened to him and he slipped inside. “God, you’re sweet. A natural. I don’t know why I never noticed before.”
She sucked on his thumb and he stilled, pulled his hand away. A flush crept up his cheeks.
“Cut it out, Tess,” he said in a gravelly growl, “or I won’t make it through your first session.” His attention drifted to her bound breasts and he swallowed. Licked his lips. Then his chin firmed. “The first session is the most important because it sets the tone. Do you know why I sent you to Monique?”
“To prepare me, Master.”
A muscle bunched in his cheek. “Yes.”
“And to test me, Master.”
His pupils dilated. “Yes. I needed to be sure you were serious about this and not just playing.”
“I’m not playing, Master.”
He rubbed his palm over his face. “If you keep calling me Master with that look in your eyes, I’m not going to last very long.”
Tess bit back a satisfied smile at his complaint. “Do you want me very badly, Master?” God, she loved the power coursing through her, even while bound and helpless on her knees before him. She loved that she could make him squirm.
And he was squirming.
“I want you. Very much.” His tone was harsh, latent with banked desire. “You know I’m going to spank you.”
“Yes Master.”
“I’m going to tie you up, many different ways. I will torment your nipples and whip your cunt and make you beg for release.”
Her breath stalled. “Oh, yes.”
His expression darkened. “And I’m going to fuck you. Would you like that, Tess?” His hand cradled a caged breast as though he couldn’t resist the temptation. “I’m going to shove my cock into your cunt and fill you.”
“Yes, please.”
“And you agree to all that? Of your own free will?”
“Yes?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Because I don’t want you-know-who complaining that I seduced you.”
She swallowed a chuckle. “Oh, no Master.”
He pinched her nipple. She jumped. “Never say no. Not to me. Not when we’re like this. Do you understand?”
“Yes Master.”
“Open your lips. I want them always apart, ready for my cock.”
She opened her lips, couldn’t resist wetting them with a quick dab of her tongue.
“Christ.” Jared flopped back on the couch and dragged his fingers through his hair. Tess could see the outline of his cock in his pants. It was rigid. And pulsing. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
She edged closer. She longed to run her hand up his thigh and test the thick wedge nudging his belly but her hands were tied. “I want to taste you.”
He flinched. “Jesus, Tess. Stop talking. You’re going to make me come.”
“Would that be bad?” She shot him a sly glance. Dabbed at her lips again.
“Yes.” She did not anticipate his snarl. “I want to come inside you the first time. And we have a long way to go before that can happen.”
“We do?” It didn’t seem so difficult to her. He could tip her back on the carpet and be inside her in a flash. She was certainly ready. Her cunt wept, slick trails dribbled between her thighs. Deep inside, her womb ached for his caress.
“We do.” He put both hands on her shoulders and tipped her back, then escaped, levering off the couch. He headed for a high table by the desk, snatched something from it and stormed back. He held up a long, slender strip of leather. “Do you know what this is?”
She shook her head.
“It’s a collar.” He swallowed. “Your collar. If you accept me as your Master, I want you to put it on. Around your neck. Tight enough to remind you to whom you belong. Will you do that?”
She nodded.
Without a word, he came down on his knees beside her and gently unhooked her wrists. She lifted them and flexed, urging her circulation to return. When she was ready, he handed her the collar. He watched with sharp eyes as she
lifted it and wrapped it around her neck.
“Tight. Tighter.”
She found a fit that pleased him and flipped the snap in place. Perhaps it was her imagination but the sound resonated through her.
He traced the collar reverently with a blunt thumb. “You just made yourself mine, Tess,” he murmured. Then he bent his head and, for the first time, kissed her.
Delight flooded Jared as he drew in Tess’ essence. She tasted like cinnamon and oranges. He’d known she would be delicious but never imagined she’d be this sweet. His lips, demanding, hungry, played over hers. He didn’t want the kiss to end. He wanted to dissolve in her mouth.
But there were more pressing needs.
He put his hand to the back of her neck and eased her over the seat of the couch. She flinched as the cool leather caressed her hot skin. Gently, he arranged her arms, folded them high up over her head. He tipped her chin so she faced him, and then sat back, transfixed by the sight she made before him. In this position her back arched slightly and her ass thrust out. The girdle rose, exposing damp lips. They hadn’t shaved her. The thought of doing it himself sent a snarl through his belly.
“Don’t move.” Slowly, he inspected her from collar to crack, reveling in her tiny shivers at his touch.
She was beautiful. Exquisite. Her skin was creamy, smooth and warm. He rubbed his palm over the globes of her ass. God, how he’d ached to do this. Ever since he’d seen her in the club.
Oh, who the hell was he kidding? He’d always wanted this.
His hand fell with a sharp crack.
She cried out in surprise, pain perhaps, but didn’t lunge up or away.
He rubbed the reddening mark with his thumb. His heart pounded as the print of his hand rose on her flesh. His mark.
He slapped her again and again and again, biting his cheek against the absolute pleasure of his palm against her ass, her muted mewls.
“You may cry out.” He slapped her again, lower, over the underside of her curvy bottom. He wanted her to cry out. Wanted to hear her passion.
And cry out she did. With each loving lash.