Shaking his head a little to clear the fog, he bent down to pick up her shoe and set the pair on the footstool beside his jacket. His palms were sweaty but cold at the same time, enough that he struggled to unzip his pants. His mind was still stuck in neutral, repeating her question in an endless loop. Have you ever had anything in that gorgeous ass, Angel?
She pulled a small tube out of her purse. Lube, he realized, as she rubbed a liberal amount onto the plug. The butt plug. He’d never seen one before but his mind had finally put two and two together. The plug had looked like a small bulb…until he realized where it was going. Now it might as well have been a baseball bat.
“Don’t be nervous,” she murmured, reaching out to rub his cock through his boxers. “Mmmm, silk. I love silky material sliding over hard cocks. Feels good, doesn’t it? I promise this will feel good too.”
She pulled his boxers down and his dick sprang out, hard and eager for a caress. In the past month, he’d had more action than in the previous ten years, and his dick was more than ready to keep up the trend. He’d even been waking up each morning to a woody, something he hadn’t done in years. Maybe it was the reasonable amount of sleep he’d been getting. Or maybe it was this incredibly sexy woman driving him insane.
“Go down on all fours, baby. It’ll be easier if you’re not standing all stiff and afraid.”
“I’m not afraid.” Until he said it, he didn’t really believe it. But he wasn’t. Not of her. She might ask him to do something strange and foreign, but he couldn’t imagine her deliberately doing something hurtful. Not the woman who’d told him her life story in ink and adopted a three-legged dog, who’d already been so firm and concerned about his well-being. Enough to make him get off the speed when no one else had.
He dropped down to his hands and knees, close enough to feel her knees against his side. She reached underneath him and began exploring. Palming his cock, lifting up his balls and gently rolling them together. She played awhile, just soft and tender touches that helped ease some of the strain in his muscles. Gripping his cock, she slowly drew the full length through her fist and rubbed her thumb over the slit. “You’re leaking already, Angel. Are you that eager for this?”
“I’m eager for you, Priestess. Whatever that means.”
“Cross your arms and drop your head down on them. Breathe slow and deep, counting to five for each. Five in. Five out. In. Out.”
He closed his eyes, listening to the rich velvet tone of her voice. Her hand worked him, firm and slow, making his hips involuntarily rock forward so he could thrust into her palm.
“That’s it, Angel. Nice. Keep rocking like that. I’m going to be beneath you later tonight. You’re going to thrust into me until I scream and tear your back up with my nails. Yeah. Just like that.”
Her other hand gripped his buttock and she kneaded the muscle, a deep, firm grip that felt incredible. She might as well have been a deep-tissue masseuse instead of a tattoo artist. Just as casually, she explored his ass, stroking up and down the crack to spread lube. Swirling her fingers deeper, she whispered, “I’m going to be the first in this tight ass. Here, you’re a virgin, Angel. You’re all mine. I’m going to lay claim to this ass. I’m going to take every inch.”
He couldn’t help but groan, his ears crisping with heat. He’d never thought of himself as a virgin, not when he’d slept his way through college with as many partners as possible. He’d certainly never thought about anyone wanting inside his ass. Or that he’d nearly come at the thought. Because his body hovered right on the edge, his cock throbbing.
Pressure against his asshole made his breath stutter out, his hips jerking in a helpless thrust he couldn’t control. But the pressure eased before he could worry about it. He could feel the plug inside him, a slight heaviness that was foreign, but it didn’t hurt.
“There. All done. Go ahead and pull your pants back up.”
Confused, he climbed to his feet. His hands fumbled and slipped but he finally got his pants buttoned. She was just going to leave that thing in him? “It’s not going to disappear up there, is it?”
Laughing softly, she leaned against his back and cupped his butt in both hands. “Hardly. I wouldn’t risk you that way. Butt plugs have a flange on the end to keep them from sliding too deep. This one has an extra little surprise I’ll give you later. When the time’s right.”
The muscles of his stomach quivered at the thought and his ass clenched involuntarily around the rubber inside him.
She’s inside me. He shuddered against her and breathed deeply, trying to calm his erection so he could zip his pants. What other surprise could she possibly have planned?
The Master of the house had promised a good but tasteful show. A tall man in an exquisite pinstripe suit sat at a card table with two beautiful female submissives collared and leashed at his feet, both in gorgeous designer gowns and jewels. Another man sat opposite him, playing a hand of gin. An extremely handsome and muscled African American sub knelt at his feet. The male sub wore the same basic dress pants and white dress shirt as Jackson, while his Master was resplendent in an old-fashioned purple velvet tux and tails. It should have looked ridiculous, but his small, neat frame and elegant manner made the antique clothing oddly appropriate. Another couple chatted on a leather couch nearby in front of the grand stone fireplace that dominated the entire wall. Everyone paused and looked up when she and Jackson entered the room.
A liveried servant in scarlet breeches and coat announced them. “The Priestess of Minneapolis with her submissive, Angel.”
The tall man rose from his chair and came to greet them. “Welcome, Priestess. I’m so pleased you were able to stop by.”
“Thank you for receiving us into your home, Hammer.”
Turning, he stretched out his hand to Jackson. Consummate businessman that he was, Jackson shook hands like they were headed to Wall Street. Never mind they all wore black silk masks. Hers was a simple domino style, since she didn’t have much identity to hide, but his was a hood that completely covered his face, leaving only his eyes and mouth uncovered. Hammer wore a similar mask, leaving not even his hair color to betray him. Though he spoke at BDSM events across the country, no one knew his real name or appearance. He wore the mask proudly and it’d become part of his persona, like her tats were just as much a part of her as her eyes and hair. He was too respected in the BDSM community for anyone to even think about betraying him by uncovering his identity. He must have had a serious need to hide behind that mask, and he’d defended too many people across the nation for anyone to strip it away from him.
“Your Mistress has indicated your desire to be a voyeur tonight. Do you prefer gay or hetero, couples or multiples?”
“I’ve only ever watched hetero couples,” Jackson answered slowly, turning his head slightly so he could watch her reaction. “Mostly my roommate in college.”
“He was quite the ladies’ man?”
He smiled. “Well, he certainly thought he was. Back then, he was pretty vanilla, but I’d pay good money to see him with his Mistress. He’d kill me first though.”
Diana suppressed the massive twinge of jealousy at the thought. He’d only watch something like that if she was plastered to his side. Besides, after meeting Donovan, she guessed it’d be more likely for a hurricane to flatten St. Paul than for him to invite Jackson to watch him with Lilly. No way in hell was that happening. Even if Diana had Jackson bent over the nearest chair, fucking his ass while he watched.
“So you’re more inclined to watch a Domme/sub scene.”
“Probably.” Jackson shrugged. “I don’t really know. I haven’t watched since college, and that was a long time ago.”
Hammer turned a considering gaze on her and inclined his head. She’d learn once and for all if Jackson was really just a voyeur. Or if her handsome Angel really had a secret need to be exposed and vulnerable himself.
“Let’s all get comfortable then and watch the show.”
The other guests rose and joined them, polite introductions quickly making the rounds. When the man wearing the old-fashioned purple tux took Hammer’s hand, Jackson cast a wide-eyed look of surprise at her. They all moved through a doorway into the next room, where soft cushions were tossed on the floor in a circle. The floor inside the seating area was covered with soft, fluffy furs. Shelves and recessed niches in the walls all held candles, giving the room an intimate, romantic atmosphere.
Hammer and his partner went to stand by the largest cushion and waited while everyone else spread out to the other seats. The three subs that had sat by them at the card table knelt in front of them on the furs, waiting until everyone else was seated. Diana led Jackson to the cushions opposite their hosts.
“We’re extremely honored to have special guests tonight.” Hammer tapped the black sub on the shoulder. “Choose your partner, Knightly, and gift us with your exquisite skills.”
Jackson leaned in close to her and whispered, “I thought he was a Dominant.”
“Hammer?” He nodded. “He is, except when it comes to his partner, Comte. Together, they’re Masters over their submissives.”
Knightly chose one of the submissives who’d been kneeling on Hammer’s side of the table. The red-haired beauty gave him an impish smile and took his hand, letting him draw her into the center of the circle. The unchosen woman sat between Hammer and Comte’s feet, leaning back against their cushion. Hammer stroked her hair, but she leaned against the other man’s knees.
The couple in the center began to kiss. They stroked each other, letting passion build. The flickering candlelight made their skin glow, casting dancing shadows across the room. It was hauntingly beautiful. They gave each other little touches, his palm sliding up her back to cup her nape, her fingers stroking his throat and face. It was clear they cared for each other and had probably done this many times before.
But the way they carefully positioned themselves in front of the guests made it clear this was also a performance. The woman faced Jackson while the man unzipped her gown. She let it slide artfully down her body, revealing her breasts and beautifully shaved pussy. She hung her head, letting her hair fall over her breasts, but still managed to peek at Jackson flirtatiously from beneath her lashes.
The other man guided her down onto her knees, gliding his hands over her hips and back. He plunged into her hard and fast, drawing a gasping cry from her pouty lips.
Diana watched Jackson’s reaction carefully. He didn’t respond to the other woman’s nudity. His breathing was a little fast, but it’d been rapid since the whole scene started. His eyes weren’t dilated. His hands were still on his thighs and he didn’t visually struggle to contain himself. He watched with interest, but wasn’t aroused.
The other Domme in the room whispered something to her sub and he went to his knees before her, his head disappearing up her gown. Jackson watched them a moment, but then he turned to Diana. “Do I get to do that for you?”
“I thought you wanted to watch.”
He traced his fingers along the lace band of her stockings, but didn’t push his way higher. “I do. But if I have the opportunity to touch you, I’d rather do that.”
“There’s plenty of time for that,” she said lightly.
The couple on the floor was louder, the woman’s moans rising in intensity, but Jackson didn’t seem to be affected. He still sported wood, but nothing like earlier on the dance floor. It’s time to up the ante. Push a little, see what he does.
Reaching into her purse, she found the small controller and turned it to its lowest setting. He jumped beside her, his eyes widening.
“A little surprise.” She turned and leaned against his arm, lifting her thigh slightly across his knee so her skirt rode up a bit more. “Do you like it?”
“It’s…different.” His breathing caught, his hand immediately reaching to the hint of thigh above the stocking. He looked up into her face, checking for permission, and when she didn’t stop him, he stroked her leg more confidently. He turned toward her, rubbing his face into her hair and along her neck, breathing in her scent. His hand roamed higher, his fingers tracing the line of her panties. “Let me give you pleasure.”
She pulled back and signaled the liveried man guarding the door. Immediately, the man came close and leaned down. “Could I have some rope, please?”
“Of course, madam.”
In a few moments, the man returned with a hank of light cotton rope. She twisted it around each of Jackson’s wrists, crossed his arms in front of him, and then looped the rope around his back and around to his chest, effectively pinning his arms against him. “Remember your safeword, Angel. If at any time you’re not comfortable with what we’re doing, I expect you to stop me.”
The woman on her knees cried out as orgasm took her. Her partner pounded into her, making her cries louder, rising to a high keening scream that echoed in the room.
Yet Jackson didn’t even look at them. His eyes were locked on Diana.
Pleased, she dialed the vibrator up another notch.
“Yes, Priestess.”
Tiny pulses vibrated through his gut. At first it was just strange, as strange as walking with the plug inside him, or sitting with a group of strangers while a couple had sex for entertainment. For his entertainment. He’d tried to focus on them, but it just didn’t do anything for him. Not like all those years ago when he’d hidden in the shared bathroom and watched Donovan have sex with his date. That’d been so hot, so crazy, his heart thundering up in his throat for fear he’d get caught. Maybe it hadn’t been the sex itself he’d found so exciting, but the threat. Because once his roommate caught him, he’d thumped him hard enough he’d had a black eye for a week.
So he’d switched gears. Instead of watching the couple sweating and groaning together on the fur, he’d pictured Donovan and Lilly making love. He could almost hear her whispering dirty words to her lover, taking her pleasure, like that other couple. But that only made Jackson ache to taste Diana’s desire, to feel her thighs clamping tight around his head, her fingers pulling on his hair, bringing him in closer as she rode wave after wave of pleasure.
The plug vibrated harder, sending his heart rate up another notch. He shifted against the cushion, trying to find a more comfortable position. His erection was quickly becoming uncomfortable. The ache intensified and he twisted his hands, wishing he could reach down and unzip his pants, witnesses be damned.
And Diana, his wicked Mistress, just sat there watching him. She didn’t even touch him any longer. She sat beside him, but slightly facing him, her eyes dark and mysterious. Watching. Only watching. Waiting for him to…
The hell if I know.
Sweat trickled down his back. His entire lower body throbbed and ached, swollen and so damned tight. He clenched his jaws, fighting back the sounds threatening to escape. I won’t groan. Damned if I’ll beg. No way.
He tried to distract himself by looking around the room. The couple on the ground cuddled together, kissing softly. The other Mistress stroked her sub’s hair as he continued to lick her, her eyes heavy and lazy. Watching Jackson. Not her own sub.
He jerked his attention away, his gaze falling on the two men opposite them. The woman had unzipped the slim man’s pants, her head bobbing, but he, too, watched Jackson with an intensity that made him shiver, even though his body felt like he’d fallen into a furnace. The other man, Hammer, also looked at him, even though he had his arm around his partner.
They’re watching me.
His cock surged so hard that he couldn’t hold back the grunt of discomfort any longer. He twisted his hands against the ropes, desperate to get some relief.
“Maybe you don’t want to watch, Angel,” Diana said softly, trailing her fingertips lightly up his thigh. “Maybe you’d like people to watch you.”
&
nbsp; He wanted to scoff, but he couldn’t deny the possibility. If his hands were free, he’d probably be pumping his cock, even if they all watched him. He’d never felt this out of control, this frantic, and yet entirely unable to lift a finger to ease his raging need. He’d been on display before. He’d endured punishment at the lake house easily. But that had been different. She’d planned to do a scene with another man. That hadn’t been his own desire.
This was. And it was killing him.
“What do you think, Angel?” Her fingers walked playfully across the straining front of his trousers. He sucked in his breath, trying not to arch into that faint caress, but it was a losing battle. “Would you like to give them a little show? Maybe we could show them how I earned my title as the Blow Job Queen.”
Groaning, he shook his head. That name had such negative connotation for her. Surely the last thing she’d want to do was give him a blow job, to think about that awful nickname with him. Even if his dick nearly exploded at the thought of her lush mouth simply hovering over him.
She ground the heel of her hand firmly against the ridge in his pants. “Please, Angel? I’d love to torment you. You let me paddle your backside last time. Why wouldn’t you let me torture that glorious cock of yours?” She leaned closer, rubbing her lips against his ear. “You know I won’t take it easy on you. I’ll make you earn that release. It’ll be the best blow job you’ve ever had in your entire life.”
He had to be crazy. The plug buzzed, revving his lust up another notch. Her warm, moist breath against his ear only made him shudder with longing at the thought of her blowing on his cock. Bound, helpless, while this beautiful woman tortured him with her mouth while other people witnessed his shame. It should have been humiliating, a quick deflation of the erection threatening to tear out of his pants. Instead, he found himself nodding.
“Give me the words, Angel. I don’t want any misunderstandings between us.”
“Please.” He cleared his throat, struggling to make his brain communicate with his mouth. “Priestess. Please.”
The Billionaire's Ink Mistress: Billionaires in Bondage, Book 2 Page 18