by Jasmine Hill
“I’m good.” She wanted him deeper—she needed him to seat himself fully.
He pushed in a fraction more, feeding her his thick cock in short, shallow thrusts. His hands tightened on her arse cheeks and he stretched her wider. His ragged breathing mingled with her frantic panting.
“Please, Rhett,” she cried, desperate to have him inside her.
With a low, guttural groan, he surged into her, burying his cock balls deep in her arse. She stiffened at the initial burning then her body adjusted to the invasion and she relaxed. After that first breach of her virgin arse, it felt surprisingly good, better than she had expected. She moaned loudly at the sensation of him stretching her channel to capacity. She had never felt so full, and the feeling was extraordinary. He held himself still, seated inside her to the hilt.
He hunched over her so that she could feel his sweat-soaked chest against her back and his ragged breathing at her ear. “Fuck, baby. That feels amazing. I’m so hard I could stretch you in two. I’m going to move now,” he warned and pulled out of her slowly before thrusting back in.
He was teasing the throbbing ache deep inside her. She needed more. It was too slow. “Faster,” she begged.
He growled low in his throat, a primal sound of lust and desire, and picked up his pace, pumping his hips harder. His balls slapped against her pussy each time he drove his rigid shaft into her arse, keeping her cheeks stretched wide to ease his glide.
She felt the pressure start to build deep inside and thrust back against him. He surged into her and she relished the full, stretching sensation.
Rhett was making desperate, animal-like noises. She could tell he was close. His movements were becoming choppy and erratic, and his breathing was harsh. She whimpered and pushed back harder and he gave her what she wanted. He snaked a hand between her legs and thrust two fingers into her slick channel while he massaged her clit with his thumb.
New and delightful sensations spiralled outwards, and she groaned.
“Fuck, you are so wet, baby. You’re drenched. You love me fucking your arse, don’t you?”
She was too wrapped up in concentrating on her building orgasm, she couldn’t reply or form a coherent word.
“Come for me,” he demanded on a ragged breath. “Any second I’m going to blow my load in this tight, sweet arse of yours.”
She held her breath and focused on the rippling waves of pleasure forming at her core.
He drew his cock all the way out of her arse then thrust it home, burying himself deep and fucking her pussy with his fingers.
That was all it took for her to detonate around him. Her vaginal walls pulsed and contracted wildly as her orgasm ripped through her.
With an animal roar, he found his own release, grasping her hips hard and wrenching her against him.
He pulled out and lay beside her, both of them quiet while they waited for their breathing to return to normal.
Lucy had never felt so sated and peaceful. That last orgasm had wrung her out. Her eyelids started to droop and she was drifting into a slumber when she felt Rhett prop himself on one arm beside her, caressing her back with his other hand.
“I want you, Lucy,” he said seriously. “You are mine and I don’t want to let you go.”
She opened her eyes and stared at him in astonishment. What was he suggesting? She didn’t think that they were ready for marriage—he couldn’t possibly be suggesting that.
Interpreting her alarm correctly, he chuckled. “Relax, baby. I’m not proposing that we race off into the sunset and elope or anything. I’m saying that I want you, with me, in a serious relationship. You are everything that I want in a woman—you’re smart, beautiful and sexy. You’re sweet and considerate and we get on well together. I know we haven’t known each long and the last few days have been…difficult, but I think we have the basis for something serious. What do you say?”
She gazed at his anxious expression and didn’t even have to think about her answer. Happiness welled inside her. She turned on her side to face him, caressed his cheek and leaned in to kiss him lightly on the mouth. “I would love that, Rhett Hunter,” she whispered against his lips.
She felt his mouth curve under hers in a smile before he quickly pushed her to her back and loomed over her.
“You’ve made me a very happy man, baby,” he declared breathlessly. “We’ll make this work,” he promised.
Yes, she thought vehemently, as he took her mouth in a passionate and possessive kiss. We will make it work.
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
From Leather to Lace
Jasmine Hill
Excerpt
Chapter One
Sarah Maddox zipped up her thigh-length stiletto boot and stepped back to study her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. She looked pretty damn good. She had piled her dark hair on top of her head and the eye mask she wore made her look almost cat-like, her full scarlet lips a startling contrast. A leather choker was around her neck. Below the choker her cleavage spilled out of a corset tied gaspingly tight. The black leather mini she wore barely brushed the tops of her thighs. Two inches below started her stiletto boots.
“Perrrfect,” she purred. “Goodbye, Sarah. Hello, Mistress Kitty,” she said to her reflection.
She removed her mask and tucked it into her handbag and after donning a full-length black coat she left her apartment. When she arrived downstairs the car was already waiting.
“Hello, Monty,” she greeted the driver as she slid into the back seat.
“Good evening, Mistress,” he replied as he pulled away from the kerb and smoothly merged with the traffic.
Her place of work was normally only a ten-minute drive from her apartment if the traffic was light, and about eleven minutes later Monty pulled to a stop in front of an understated multi-storey building. After parking, he made his way to the back door and assisted her out of the car.
Kitty thanked him, punched in the security code and entered the building through a discreet doorway. As she did so, she stepped into Fantasy.
From the outside the building looked identical to many others and could have been a typical office complex but on the inside it looked magical. Glittering chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, the walls were adorned with mirrors and expensive pieces of erotic art, plush lounge suites were expertly scattered to ensure privacy, and crystal glasses and expensive bottles of champagne and liqueurs adorned mirrored tables to be enjoyed with caviar and oysters. A selection of Venetian-style masks was also provided in which the clients could relax anonymously. Music was piped in through discreetly hidden speakers—never obtrusive, the music was selected for its mood-enhancing qualities.
Another very important detail about Fantasy was that all clientele were assured absolute privacy and discretion. No real names were used and no contact details recorded. Madam Boudica followed a strict booking system and, whilst convoluted, it ensured that a customer’s privacy was guaranteed. Clients booked under an assumed name that was used for all subsequent bookings. Another assurance against identity exposure was the wearing of masks. There was also one particularly important rule—no sex with the clients.
Mistress Kitty made her way over the plush carpet to the office to check her diary. Each of the girls had their own diary listing their clientele for each evening. The left-hand column recorded the client’s pseudonym, the middle column listed the particular fantasy the client wished to indulge, while in the right-hand column was recorded any particular requests or special instructions. She ran a manicured finger down the list of clients. All were regulars except for her first client of the evening—a Mr X.
Not very original, perhaps he is new to the scene.
Written in Mr X’s right-hand column was, ‘New client to Fantasy—enjoys pain but NOT domination.’
Mistress Kitty was intrigued. Whilst her clients’ penchants ran to varied extremes, most of them enjoyed being dominated in some fashion. She took the lift up to level two wh
ere her dressing room was located. All the girls had their own dressing rooms complete with a shower and a bath and even a bed to which they could retire for a recharge nap. She checked her watch—she had half an hour before Mr X. She thought about how she should approach the session with her new client and decided that she would start off slow to get a feel for his expectations. All new clients were interviewed by Madam Boudica and given strict instructions regarding Fantasy rules and policy with particular attention to safe words and safety, but it was important for each Domme to personally connect with her clients.
She touched up her makeup and at the appointed time she donned her mask, left her dressing room and made her way to the dungeon.
When Mistress Kitty opened the door of the dungeon she did a double-take and drew her breath in sharply. Mr X was already waiting and the man who stood in front of her could only be described as an Adonis! A mask covered the top part of his head and hair but she could see that he had deep brown eyes and full lips. His shoulders and chest were hard and muscular, his stomach rippled and his long, powerful legs looked like they could snap her in two. He was tall, so that even in her stilettos he seemed to tower over her. He had a small amount of chest hair that trailed down his lean stomach and ended below the waistband of his black leather pants.
Mr X was unlike most of the men she was used to seeing in Fantasy and she imagined her surprise was evident. She tried quickly to regain her composure as she stepped into the dungeon but she could see by his wry grin and raised eyebrow that her agitation hadn’t gone unnoticed.
She felt instantly off balance from his reaction. She was the one who was supposed to be in control. In here she called the shots. Now this man, without uttering a word, had totally unnerved her and was obviously enjoying doing it.
Determined to regain the upper hand, she lifted a stiletto-heeled boot until it rested against his hard stomach then she kicked him back against the wall—his body hitting brick with a satisfying thud. Then pinioning him by the chest with her whip, she swiftly looped each end through steel rings set into the wall and brought one knee up to rest dangerously between his legs. She saw with satisfaction the spark of fury in his eyes then thought of the instruction—‘enjoys pain but NOT domination’—and here she had dominated him so quickly he hadn’t seen it coming. It wasn’t her usual approach to defy the client’s wishes but for some perverse reason she was getting immense satisfaction from his barely suppressed anger and it was important that she maintain the upper hand.
Stepping back, she stood akimbo as she studied him, giving him a moment to adjust to the whip restraint before she spoke.
“I hear you like pain, Mr X.”
“I wonder that you didn’t receive the rest of the instruction,” he growled, “for if you had, you would know that I do not enjoy being dominated.”
“You do realise that a big part of BDSM is domination and submission? In here I am the Dominant, Mr X. There are other Fantasy employees who cater to dominant clients.”
“I am well aware of that. Madam Boudica told me the same thing but you come highly recommended and I must say my friend definitely did not exaggerate your considerable assets,” he responded as he swept his eyes appreciatively over her body.
She studied him a moment longer as she wondered idly who had recommended her and why. Then with one quick movement she lunged forward and once more rested her knee at his crotch. She placed her hands on the wall, caging him in, and leaned close to speak in his ear.
“How shall we play this, Mr X? You want to be whipped but not bound—is that right?”
Not waiting for him to reply, she unlooped one end of the whip then the other but kept her knee resting firmly between his legs.
“Of course the client is always to be kept satisfied,” she purred, drawing a nail slowly but deeply down his chest. She felt his cock harden against her knee at the erotic contact and drew her hand down farther, nails raking his skin until she slowly removed her knee from between his legs. As she did so she gripped his balls and squeezed carefully but firmly. She felt him stiffen against her as he groaned.
“You don’t like being dominated, Mr X,” she said softly, “but now I have you by the balls.”
As she looked up at him, a small smile playing on her lips, his eyes narrowed in anger then with a low snarl he grabbed her wrist and squeezed it painfully until she relaxed her grip. Smiling cruelly, he seized both of her wrists and secured them with one hand behind her back while with the other hand he grasped her chin.
“You’re not playing nice, Kitty cat,” he spoke low in her ear. “Deliberately provoking me is not a smart move.”
She couldn’t miss the muscular solidity of his chest as he pressed her body hard against his and despite her predicament she admired his obvious strength and powerful physique. She was determined to regain the upper hand, however, and she struggled desperately to escape his grasp and regain control, but his hold was too great. She lifted a booted foot, intent on kicking him wherever she could find purchase, but he quickly anticipated her and clamped both her legs between his more formidable ones. She was now wholly at his mercy as he held her in a bizarre parody of a dance dip.
“Let me go,” she demanded. “If you want to play the dominant then you have the wrong girl—I don’t do submission, Mr X.”
He chuckled. “Yes, I can see that you are quite the Dominant,” he said dryly. “I’m going to let you go, Mistress, but only if you promise to play nice.”
She nodded in acquiescence before he released his grip on her wrists and helped her to her feet. She was totally mortified and her pride was more than a little wounded at having been so easily overwhelmed by a client.
“This will be your first and last session with me, Mr X,” she stated emphatically. “I shall recommend one of the other girls for your next session—one of our submissives will be more to your liking, I’m sure.”
“And here I was having so much fun,” he drawled in amusement.
“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Session’s over, Mr X, you know where the door is,” she stated, crossing her arms and glaring at him.
He moved towards the door. As he drew level with her he stopped and brought his hand up to caress her face.
Kitty was startled by the unexpected gentleness of the gesture and she tensed in wary suspicion as he traced her jawline lightly with his fingers.
“Don’t think you’ve seen the last of me, Mistress,” he promised before he turned abruptly and strode out of the dungeon.
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About the Author
Jasmine’s alter ego lives in Sydney, Australia with her husband and their Border Collie. She enjoys cooking, travelling with her husband, outdoor activities and skiing. She loves reading all genres but in particular she enjoys romance novels and thrillers and her Kindle is never far from her side.
Jasmine loves writing and is always looking for new ideas for stories that will provoke inner passions, stimulate the senses and ignite the imagination.
Email: [email protected]
Jasmine loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totallybound.com.
Also by Jasmine Hill
From Leather to Lace
Serena’s Submission
Totally Bound Publishing
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Legal Page
Title Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgement
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
New Excerpt
About the Author
Publisher Page
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Jasmine Hill, Roses Are Red