by Ann Jacobs
His cock stood rock-hard against his belly and his balls ached as he looked at her breasts, held at rigid attention as they protruded from the bra. Breathing hard but determined to hold on to his control, he re-fastened the rope to the ring and used three shorter pieces to add strands along her cleavage and at her sides. God help him, the sight of her breasts pointing straight out from her body had him on the verge of losing it.
“Oh my God, Master.” Talia lifted her arms, attempting to hide her breasts behind her hands.
Sid reached around her and gently moved her hands back to her sides. “I can tell it embarrasses you to have your breasts displayed this way, but it excites me to see them so vulnerable, so exquisitely available to me. Turn around now. Use your hands to hold onto your pretty little butt, push back your shoulders and let me look at your breasts.”
Talia showed that she was a well-trained sub. Too well-trained. She did as he’d ordered, but instead of looking him in the eye, she lowered her gaze. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. Remember, I bound you like this for my pleasure. Come on, look at me and tell me I’m your Master.”
“You’re my Master.” When she looked up at him, he saw pain in her beautiful eyes—but passion, too.
Guiding her by gently tugging on her distended nipples, Sid moved backward to the couch where he sat and shrugged out of his robe. Drawing Talia forward to straddle his legs, he took first one and then the other engorged nipple in his mouth. “Your breasts will keep swelling for a few minutes, and then they’ll stay full as long as they’re bound.”
She moaned.
“Are you all right, sweetheart?” Sid had bound dozens of women many times, but none as small or vulnerable as Talia, at least in his mind. The thought of hurting her terrified him, even though he knew she found pleasure in pain.
“I-I need your cock inside me. Please, Master.”
He lifted her by the buttocks and lowered her onto his erection, loving the feel of her hot, wet pussy clutching his naked flesh. No. He had to stop, get a condom. Or not. Maybe he could maintain control if they just stayed like this, not moving. “Don’t move. Let’s stay still and watch you grow your pearls.”
“Pearls?” She looked up at him then focused again on her bound breasts.
“According to the Japanese masters, your breasts should form the shape and color of gorgeous natural pearls when they’re bound this way. I’ve heard some other rope bondage practitioners say the word shibari is also Japanese for pearl, though I’m not sure that’s true. Have you heard that, too?” Maybe if they kept talking he could resist the compulsion to fuck her hard, come now.
“No, Master.”
Obviously he was going to have to make her talk in more than monosyllables if this was going to work. “Tell me how your breasts feel. I’ve always wondered.”
Her gaze on her bound breasts, she spoke softly, the sound so sensual he almost ordered her to be quiet. “They feel heavy, really heavy. It feels as though the glands underneath are growing along with the surface skin. Almost like something is tugging at my nipples from the inside.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
“Frustrated. Sort of like having an itch I can’t reach but not being sure I want to reach it.” The words came out almost harshly, and Sid noticed her breathing had grown fast and shallow.
“Does anything help?”
“Oh…” Her lips turned up in a hint of a smile. “It helps a little when I clamp down on your cock.”
His cock twitched when she did that again, reminding him he was riding bareback and too damn close to coming. “It looks as though the swelling has stopped now. Hop off and stand up. It seems to me your nipples are begging for attention.”
“They’re so big. So hard.” Talia’s cheeks turned beet-red, but she lifted her pussy off his aching flesh. None too soon.
They stood in front of the fireplace, the banked flames shedding red-orange light on them. Sid lowered his head to her distended nipples. He nibbled, bit and bent the hard nubs, twisting them back and forth in tight circles. It amazed him, how one snapped back when he stopped to switch his attention from one to the other.
“Please, Master. That hurts.” Her anguished words belied her actions, for she grasped her breast and thrust the nipple deeper into his mouth. “Don’t…don’t… Oh my God, don’t stop.”
He sucked harder, using his fingers to tug and twist the other nipple while he molded the rigid flesh below it against his palm. The immense shudder that went through her body was all the proof he needed about the intensity of her orgasm.
She went to her knees, overcome by the waves of intense pleasure-pain that were still rolling through her body. Her Master’s cock beckoned her, impossibly long and thick and as red and rigid as her bound breasts. Taking the bulging head in her mouth, she used both hands to surround his tightened ball sac. Her nipples grazed his muscular inner thighs, keeping her need at a fever pitch.
His agonized moans spurred her to give him the pleasure she had just experienced. Selfishly, she wanted that pleasure again, for herself.
When he tangled his fingers in her hair and made her take him deeper in her mouth, she began to suck his beautiful cock and roll his balls between her palms. The musky smell of sex swirled around them, mingling with a sweet, smoky scent from the wood fire.
“Yeah, baby, do it like that. Suck me hard. God yes, make me come.”
Swallowing hard, she took his big cock down her throat. His neatly trimmed pubic hair tickled her lips. When she felt the first bursts of semen bounce against her throat, her cunt began to contract again as she swallowed over and over, wanting it all. God, but she loved this. He made her forget everything except him and the way he’d just taken her to heights she’d never imagined.
When they were able to breathe easily again, Sid lifted her in his arms and took her straight to the master bathroom. “I’m going to unwrap my present now,” he told her between kisses.
When Sid unwrapped the last coil of rope, freeing Talia from her bondage, he bent and laid short, sweet kisses along the red marks that marred her beautiful skin. “I’ll have to be more careful next time, sweetheart. I don’t like seeing these rope marks on you. Come on, let’s take a quick shower and then I’ll rub you down with some lotion.” He turned around, stepped inside the shower stall and turned on the water.
“I’m not sore, Master. Really.”
“Don’t argue with your Master. I’m not in to inflicting injuries on my partners.” On you. I’ve never worried too much before about leaving rope burns on my playmates.
He wasn’t ready to tell her yet and he was sure she wasn’t ready to hear it, but Talia was a hell of a lot more to him than his sex partner and playmate. She was coming to mean way more than that in his life. Though he welcomed the emotional connection that was growing stronger every day, on one level that scared him more than an oversize cornerback bearing down on him in a game.
“Come on, get in. The water’s warm,” he said more brusquely than he meant.
When she did, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed against his back. “You’re warmer, Master.” From the tension in her body he could tell she’d gone up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.
She’d called him “Master” twice in the last thirty seconds, and that bugged him so he turned around and bent to her ear to whisper back. “I’m Sid. Unless we’re at the club or playing a scene here at home, I want you to call me by my name. ‘Master’ gets pretty old. Understand?”
“Yes, Mas— I mean Sid.” When she looked up at him, she had a confused look on her face that made him want to kiss her.
That would lead to more sex, though, and what Sid needed now was sleep if he was going to be worth crap at practice in the morning. “That’s better, beautiful. Now grab that soap and lather me up, and afterward I’ll do you.”
She soaped him from head to toe while he tried to enjoy her touch without revving his body up for more of her right now. When she finished and he stood
under the shower spray, he ran his soapy hands over her, tracing the rope marks around her breasts and back. Bad idea! Though he tried to think about pass routes, his dick got hard as stone.
It didn’t help when she put her hand around his testicles, and when she moved up and started jacking his dick, all thoughts of football left his mind. He growled as he turned her into the shower spray. “Stop that, baby. You’ve wrung me out already. I won’t be worth shit in the morning if you keep me up all night, and we’ve got a playoff game on Sunday.”
“I’m sorry, Master.”
When she hung her head as though he’d slapped her, he clenched his fists. “Sid, not Master. And you don’t need to feel like you’ve got to keep me horny 24/7.” It didn’t make him feel too good, wondering if Reinhart had been so damn insatiable that he’d kept her up all night even before important games.
He turned off the water and wrapped Talia in a big bath sheet before pulling one around his waist. “Come on, let’s crawl in bed and get some sleep. Six o’clock will be here too damn soon.” Putting an arm over her shoulder, he herded her to his bed.
Tears glistened in her eyes when he looked at her. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I’m just being silly. Don’t mind me. Do you want me to go to the guest room so you can sleep?” She stroked the rope marks on her chest, but her lips trembled. From the look in her eyes, she was hurt. Really hurt.
He sat and pulled her down beside him. “No, sweetheart. I want to wake up in the morning with you cuddled up right next to me.”
“All right.” Talia lay back against his black sheets, her pale body a study in contrasts. “I’ll go to sleep if you don’t want sex.”
Is she upset that I kept it simple in the shower? Does she expect 24/7 sex? Did she get it from that bastard Reinhart? Sid lay back and closed his eyes, trying to dispel the notion that he wasn’t giving her what she needed. Finally he rolled over on his side, rose on one elbow and looked Talia in the eye.
“It’s not that I wouldn’t love to play all night long, but I have practice in the morning for a playoff game I want us to win. Some guys, particularly linemen, may be able to practice without a lot of sleep, but I put out a lot of energy running after balls and dodging defensive backs. Practice takes almost as much out of me as a game.”
“It’s okay. Really.” She reached up and stroked his cheek. “Would you like for me to rub your back?”
“Yeah, but if you do I wouldn’t go to sleep. Come over here and I’ll pretend I’m still a little boy and you’re my favorite teddy bear.” Shoving thoughts of Vic Reinhart to the back of his mind, Sid drew Talia to him and rested one hand around her back, the other on her soft, rounded ass. “Doesn’t this feel good?”
“Oh, yes. You’re so warm. G’night.”
The tension flowed out of his body, leaving him feeling lethargic yet more satisfied than he could remember having been before. “Sweet dreams, baby. See you in the morning.”
Contentment flowed through Talia, a feeling so rare that she didn’t want to sleep right away. Instead she watched Sid sleep, taking in the features that made her think he was the handsomest man she had ever seen. His dark brown hair spilled over onto his forehead, making her wonder if he’d been such a charmer when he was a little boy.
His chiseled cheekbones and strong jaw, where stubble already was ruining his clean-shaven look, reminded her he was no boy but a man. A Dom. Her Master. Her gaze shifted to his straight, generous nose and soft, sculpted lips.
His gorgeous, dark blue eyes that turned almost fiery with passion were now closed so his lashes rested against his cheeks. No man should be blessed with lashes most women would kill to have, but he was. Talia looked away, practically overwhelmed with emotion.
With her hand resting above his heart, she measured the warmth of his skin, the reassuring beat of his heart and the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Overwhelmed by emotion, she closed her eyes and just enjoyed being close to him. Feeling cared for and protected, she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Six
The next morning the snow had let up, and a combination of warmer temperatures and a brilliant sun melted off most of the accumulation before ten o’clock. Talia showered and dressed carefully, excited that Susan Zanardi had called and invited her to lunch so she could meet some of the other Rebels’ wives and girlfriends.
Although Susan had mentioned that the private club where the lunch was being held was somewhat of a Savannah landmark, Talia had never been there. Fortunately Sid had shown her how to use the GPS in his Acura, otherwise she would never have found it—a white-brick building at the end of a tree-shaded street not far from the historic district.
The butterflies in her stomach started as she drove through the open gates and drove up to a columned portico. She pulled up at the end of a line of Porsches and Mercedes and one lone Cadillac. She hesitated a minute before handing Sid’s car over to the parking attendant when he opened her door, but she told herself to relax. She got out and stepped up three stairs to a heavy front door with gleaming brass hardware.
That’s when Vic’s voice rang out in her head. You little hick, don’t think you’re fit to socialize with savvy, educated women. Be glad I keep you around, just never get the idea in your head that you’re anything but a slut I put up with because you sometimes manage to give good head.
Talia stood there like a statue, her outstretched hand on the brass door handle. When she looked down, she saw how bad she was shaking. You can do this. Sid wants you to. And the coach’s wife invited you. It isn’t as though you don’t know anybody. Her knuckles white from clutching the icy metal, she pulled the handle and stepped inside.
The white-coated attendant behind a dark-wood counter smiled. She tried to smile back, hoping she wasn’t trembling so much that he could tell all the way through her heavy coat and the soft, clingy sweater dress she’d chosen with such care from her new wardrobe. “May I take your coat, miss?”
His softly worded question drew her out of the terror that had claimed her. “Thank you,” she said, taking off the coat and handing it over in exchange for a claim check.
“The Rebels wives’ luncheon is in the Blue Room,” the attendant said. “Down the hall, first door on your right. Which player is your husband?”
Husband? “I-I’m Sid Conyers’ girlfriend.” She’d said it out loud, and surprisingly she felt no conflict. Acknowledging her relationship with Sid made her feel good, gave her a boost of confidence she needed to get through this ordeal.
“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you, miss. Sid’s one of the Rebels’ best players now that Dave Delaney has retired.” Thankfully the attendant turned his attention to a tall, elegant-looking brunette who had just come in, so Talia headed in the direction of the meeting room.
Did she look all right? Talia looked down at her plain black flats, wishing she could have worn high heels to give herself at least the illusion of a little height. She loved her blue cashmere sweater-dress, but it wasn’t long enough to completely cover the brace on her knee. Talia grasped her small, black purse. She knew it didn’t make the fashion statement that the brunette’s huge, multicolored designer bag did.
Part of Talia wanted to shrink enough that nobody would notice her once she got into the large banquet room, but she felt better when Susan got up and came to give her a hug. “I’m glad you could come. Come on, I want to introduce you to everybody.”
Talia hoped she didn’t cringe because she certainly didn’t want anybody to see how scared she was. She recognized a few familiar faces she’d seen last year at Rebels’ Roost and managed a shy smile when Susan introduced them by name. She’d never remember everybody, though. There were at least fifty women of various ages, shapes and sizes—tall, short, slender, voluptuous. A good many looked pregnant, including the tall brunette who’d come in right behind Talia. Susan, whom she’d only seen sitting down at the restaurant the other night, was so big that Talia thought she might have her baby
before they finished lunch.
“I’m expecting more or less at any minute, but you probably figured that out for yourself,” Susan told Talia, probably because she’d seen Talia taking in the size of her belly.
“Yes.” Talia hoped Susan didn’t think she was unbearably rude for staring.
“It’s okay. Everybody’s been taking bets about whether I’ll wait until after the playoffs to deliver. Come on, our table’s over here.”
Talia followed Susan to a table where the brunette—her name was Julie Bronson—and Keisha Harris were already seated.
Talia remembered Keisha from Rebels’ Roost. The Domme’s beautiful cocoa-colored skin and sparkling dark eyes couldn’t draw Talia’s attention away from the fact that Keisha, whom Vic used to call an Amazon when he wasn’t making disparaging comments about her weight, looked even heavier than she had last year. She kept up a constant conversation about the team and the prospects for a lockout next year if the players and owners couldn’t get together about a new contract. A lawyer who apparently acted as the agent for lots of pro athletes, Keisha intimidated Talia with her obvious expertise.
“Keisha, how about talking about more pleasant things than the possibility of a strike or lockout? We’re here to celebrate that we’re in the playoffs,” Susan said mildly when the conversation began to get too heavy.
“Okay by me.” Keisha shot Susan a sharp look and then turned to Talia. “I’m glad to see you’re with Sid now. It’s one thing, being submissive. It’s another, letting a Master treat you like a punching bag.”
Talia didn’t know what to say. From what she remembered, Keisha seemed to take fiendish pleasure in humiliating her brawny football-player sex slave. She’d had no idea Keisha even noticed what anybody else in the club was doing while she played. “Uh…”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just listen to me, girl. Vic Reinhart was bad news. And not only in the dungeon. Why do you think the Rebels traded him?”