Mistress's Master: Men in Blue, Book 3

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Mistress's Master: Men in Blue, Book 3 Page 8

by Jayne Rylon


  She smiled into the pitch black, hoping Morselli had infrared cameras. Instead of the castle haven she’d imagined her sister-princess inviting her to live in as a child, she drew the happiest moments of her life around her like the most effective security blanket in the universe.

  Topping the list was Lily’s recollection of Isabella’s welcoming grace at the discovery of her bastard half-sister. The generosity and instant affection her sister had lavished brought tears of joy to her eyes. Not far behind, the brilliant flames of true love she’d witnessed sparking between her sister and Razor, the young cop Izzy had fallen for, had rekindled dreams Lily thought long dead. Heat infused her chilled body as she recalled the peace she’d found in the strong arms of Jeremy Radisson. Her sister’s friend had singed her with his intense stare. He’d comforted her at the funeral of a prized submissive.

  God, Malcolm. Even months later it hurt to think of that tragedy.

  Jeremy had understood something she could never have explained. A level of grief you had to feel to know. How could they be so much the same? How could he make her wish she could be someone different, someone he needed, for the first time in her life?

  After more than three thousand beats of Lily’s heart, a cramp threatened to wring a groan from her stuffed lips. She drove it off with a vision of Jeremy. No matter how hard she tried to force the illusion of him, she couldn’t imagine him kneeling when he offered to relax her. The icy heat in his eyes alone would melt the tension from every molecule of her body, if she let it.

  Damn that look and the natural dominance oozing from him whether he wore leathers, as he had the night in her office, or the casual jeans and T-shirt she’d spotted him in most often. He didn’t need the trappings to scream his intent loud and clear. It was simply a part of him. A part that had her gulping for air. His wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing act may have fooled his friends, but she saw straight through the disguise.

  Her mind wandered to a recurring fantasy. A dream she hadn’t been able to laugh off on waking. So many nights in a row. At first, she’d thought their accidental inhalation of Sex Offender had caused the irrational riot of her hormones. Months of recurrence had taught her better. His effect on her hadn’t faded over the months since the last time she’d allowed herself to share space with him.

  The time he’d kissed her, promising to do so again soon, then disappeared for months.

  A stab of pain raced through her overextended shoulder when she tensed. Deep breaths in and out returned her calm. Maybe he had a reason for walking away. If she hadn’t been so damn stubborn, she might have discussed it with him the other night. When he’d finally called—more like unleashed a torrent of texts, emails and voicemails really.

  Stubborn and annoyed, she’d refused to answer him after months of silence.

  Lily sighed as she remembered the extravaganza at Black Lily and the scene they’d shared despite the distance between them. They’d lived every moment together. If he were here now, she wouldn’t be surprised to learn his heart beat three thousand four hundred and twenty-seven times. Exactly in tune with hers.

  Just the thought of him illuminated her world of darkness.

  She rolled her eyes at such foolish thoughts. But the tiny sliver of brightness grew. It became impossible to deny the blackness-birthed fuzzy shadows.

  A familiar voice rang in her ears.

  “What use would I have for a Domme?” Jeremy Radisson crushed the bubble of bliss that had sustained her spirit for nearly an hour in her contortionist prison.

  Chapter Six

  “Ah, Lily. Don’t mind my guest. You remember Master Jeremy from the other night, yes? You look gorgeous.” Tony dragged one fingertip from Lily’s chin down her neck along the dip of her collarbone between her breasts over her taut belly to her pussy.

  Jeremy drew up short when pressure on his neck made him aware of Matt or Clint tugging on this shirttail, urging him not to rip Tony’s filthy paw from the flawless porcelain skin on display.

  Where another woman would certainly have flinched, Lily held her ground. With no possibility of escape, attempting to evade the taunting examination would only have wasted energy and fueled Morselli’s sadistic streak.

  Jeremy scrunched his eyes closed and hoped for a fraction of her fortitude. He would sure as hell need it.

  “I trust you were treated well.”

  Again Lily refused to utter a peep, which they wouldn’t have been able to decipher considering the gag buried between her lush red lips. Her chest rose and fell in deep, even breaths. Her pulse remained steady in the exposed curve of her neck.

  Jeremy would kill to devour the sensitive column. He’d leave a bright purple mark, claiming her as his property. His responsibility.

  Only the daggers flashing from Lily’s eyes, colder than he’d ever seen them, hinted at how badly they’d pissed her off. If he hadn’t fumed along with her, he might have admired the attention to detail Tony’s staff had paid to their charge.

  Morselli enjoyed the fruits of their labor laid out on top of a stone pedestal like a rare artifact in a museum. Lily would be a one-of-a-kind addition to any collection.

  Taller than a step stool but short enough to ensure its occupant remained below eye level for Morselli’s average-at-best height, the furnishing presented her for their approval. The bastard hummed as his manicured fingernails lingered near the entrance to Lily’s nude sex.

  Spread-eagle, no part of her body remained sheltered, private.

  Jeremy’s fingers curled into fists by his side as he prepared to loosen some of his host’s bright-white teeth. Nothing would stop him from landing a blow or twenty if Morselli attempted to force any part of himself inside her unwelcoming body. At the last instant, the asshole flashed a gold-capped grin and shied away.

  But he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

  When he grazed the swell of Lily’s hipbone, where a freshly healed tattoo swirled, her calm evaporated. She hurled several garbled insults in their direction. Jeremy couldn’t prevent Morselli from tainting the memorial piece with his filthy touch. He poked the artfully arranged tails of a cat-o’-nine where they splayed across elegant cursive spelling out Malcolm’s name.

  Somehow Jeremy doubted Lily’s sister Isabella, who’d been married to the man, would hold a similar regard. And yet he understood. Perfectly. His own inked reminder of tragedy occupied a similar spot on his trunk.

  Jesus. Lily had survived so much pain. Everything she’d ever loved or hoped for had been stolen from her. He swore then and there to stop the cycle—to grant her a chance at happiness if he could.

  The intent of the muffled stream of her curses slipped clearly enough past the ball gag spreading her jaw. Jeremy’s gaze fixated on the crimson O of her lips as he devised a plan.

  “Is that any way to talk to your new boss?” Tony’s ire held none of the charm or class he pretended to possess in public. He tweaked Lily’s pink nipple, puckered from the chill of the room.

  Jeremy would bet the zing of light pain awoke nerves long gone numb from Morselli’s indiscriminate posing of her figure. Instead of whimpering or attempting to shy away, her pupils dilated and she arched further, daring the fucker to do it again.

  He’d bet she harnessed the spark, used it to help her concentrate.

  That’s my girl.

  To survive tonight intact, she’d need all her wits and every bit of the mental fortitude she’d developed at the hands of her dead father and the minions he’d employed to instruct her. Tony Morselli had no idea what she’d lived through. No one could be better prepared to outlast his malice.

  Maybe even enjoy it.

  Jeremy would bet she’d learned long ago to swap the pain for pleasure—to feed off the energy and use it to grow stronger, not weaker. His own training had granted him such focus. He’d trade places with her in an instant. Gladly accept the flare of agony and arousal to shield her from the sting, despite her ability to own it.

  In fact… Yes, it could work.
>
  Tony snarled as he kept rambling. “Be nice, Lily. Or I won’t limit your use tonight to our new friend Master Jeremy and the rest of my guests. There are plenty of others in the complex who would gladly ruin you.”

  She froze when she realized what Morselli intended.

  Jeremy stepped closer, pretending to conduct his own assessment of her form. He towered over her, caressing the knotted muscles of her back until she could meet his stare despite the extreme angle of her neck. He hoped she could read his conviction.

  I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.

  She blinked three times in rapid succession.

  He prayed he hadn’t lied.

  Jeremy scanned her from head to toe and back before cradling her head in one palm and licking the stretched ring of her lips. She trembled when he tasted her.

  “You’re right, Tony,” he growled. “She’s exquisite. A rare treasure, not a common bauble.”

  Morselli chuckled, completely oblivious to the ominous tone of his praise.

  Far more observant, Lily looked from side to side since she couldn’t shake her head, but their course had already been charted. He followed where fate had led them.

  “She’s a dark fantasy come to life.” Morselli shifted the hard-on disrupting the lay of his slacks. “I’ve always wondered how she would look, bound, her eyes begging for something only I could give.”

  “Me too.” His honest hunger surprised Lily as much as it had him if her trembling fingers and escalating respiration were any indication. He couldn’t prevent the soothing caress he placed on her cheek.

  She shocked him when every muscle in her body went lax beneath his attentions and her lids fluttered closed. Onyx lashes stood out against her pale skin.

  “Yes. Yes.” Morselli huffed beside her, toying with the buckle of his belt. “Maybe I’ve changed my mind. No reason we both can’t have her tonight.”

  Matt shifted subtly, blocking their suspect’s access to Lily.

  Her eyes popped open, her gaze flicking toward the man in the mirror.

  “I do appreciate the gesture, Tony.” Jeremy spun lazily on his heel, as though the current of electricity arcing between them hadn’t jolted him like a live wire. “But, I think I’ll pass.”

  “Is this some kind of joke?” Though Morselli squawked the question, even Matt and Clint raised eyebrows at their teammate.

  Jeremy reached around Morselli to disengage one of the manacles pinning Lily’s delicate wrist to the harsh support. “Nope. It’s not sporting. I don’t need a handicap or some false head start. If I take Lily… No, when I take her, she’ll ask me for it. She’ll kneel and beg me to ravish her because she admits who owns her. This is…artificial.”

  “You don’t approve? This isn’t the time to wax philosophical, my friend.” Tony sneered. “Any number of Doms already on the premises would kill for the once-in-a-lifetime chance to top her. Any idiot can see she doesn’t have a single submissive bone in her body. Or is that it? You don’t care to be embarrassed by fucking a woman who won’t bend to you? Do this tonight. Both of you. Prove your loyalty and I’ll share my kingdom with you. Neither of you grasps how much profit there is to be made. If I can trust you. I need partners to expand my network. Show me what you’re willing to sacrifice. A tiny bit of your pride isn’t a lot to ask.”

  “No.” Jeremy tested his luck by exacerbating Tony’s temper, hoping to throw the man out of the realm of rationality. If he could manipulate the bastard a little more, he could secure agreement for his plan.

  Lily’s tiny, almost inaudible sigh whipped his head around. Could the puff of air have been caused by a shard of disappointment slicing her deep inside? Since when did she long to surrender?

  Jeremy wondered if she could trust someone with her soul despite all the scar tissue she’d developed around her heart. He’d thought the fantasy unattainable. Not that he’d let that stop him from trying.

  “Fine, I’ll appoint someone else. I’m sure there’ll be no shortage of volunteers.”

  Matt and Clint turned to Jeremy with wide eyes, as though he’d permit another man to exercise Lily. She could accept punishment, would survive pain easily. Still, something inside her—something delicate and frail—sputtered on the verge of being extinguished. An emotional flame he yearned to fan to life. A glow he wouldn’t risk snuffing out.

  “Tony, you were willing to give me this opportunity because you’re sure I’m the best. If one of your peons believes in this….” Jeremy waved at her bogus supplication. “Then they’re no kind of professional. Certainly not someone you want as your right-hand man. A real Master would earn her submission, not force it. A worthy challenge.”

  “You think you’re capable of that? In one evening? Hell, less than an hour?” The maniacal laugh Morselli released inspired a shiver in Lily. Her chains jingled with the tremor.

  Sadly, though, Tony could be right. She might never bow for another.

  “I’d rather try than take her like this.”

  “Your vanity is astounding. Flat-out stupid. But, what the hell…” Tony paused, scratching his chin. “I’ll turn her loose if you insist.”

  “Excellent.” Jeremy reached for the key to her shackles, which dangled from the pedestal, on a hook beside her knee.

  “Not so fast. I’ll set her free. But…one of you will be my centerpiece. If you can’t bend her knees then you’ll take her place. Plenty of my guests prefer male slaves and their higher pain thresholds.” Morselli smirked. “I’ll leave you alone to work things out. Decide amongst yourselves who’ll entertain my guests. Either way, it should be fun.”

  With one hand on the gleaming, gold doorknob, he spun. Clint and Matt tensed where they flanked Lily when Tony reached into the breast pocket of his suit coat. “In the spirit of our future partnership, take this. On the house.”

  He tossed a capsule onto a long table holding supplies.

  “It’ll overcome any lingering distaste when you cave, Jeremy. A little insurance to guarantee you’ll put on a killer show. Sorry, Lily. At least it’ll be a wild ride. No more than an hour, children. Don’t be late to your own party.” He raised his fingers to his brow in a mock salute then slipped from the room.

  Matt followed, pressing his ear to the panel to monitor Morselli’s receding footsteps. He stayed, one giant foot wedged in front of the portal to assure it didn’t reopen before they were ready. Clint took up a similar post at the other entrance. Both men averted their wide-eyed stares, affording Lily as much privacy as possible in the miniscule area.

  She yelled behind her gag, something that could have been, “Get me the fuck out of here.”

  “Hush.” Jeremy kissed the tip of her nose as he unbuttoned his pants and ripped the zipper open.

  Instead of quieting, she thrashed in her bindings, rattling her chains and shrieking demands. He’d bet his life she’d have accepted her situation without a peep had it been anyone but him in the room. She reacted so differently to him, he wondered if she realized it.

  “Calm down.” His quiet insistence didn’t dent her objections.

  She shook her head from side to side hard enough he worried she might injure her neck.

  “Lily, stop. Now.” The iron in his command caused the men in blue to stand up straighter where they manned their posts. They’d never witnessed his true nature before. At least not outside of a police operation. Then they’d probably been too caught up in their own adrenaline and keen instincts to notice.

  “That’s right.” He crooned when she stilled, resting his left palm on the side of her neck, brushing it with his thumb. His other hand reached into his boxer briefs.

  “What the fuck are you doing, JRad?” Clint took a stride forward, as though to stop him.

  Matt joined in the chorus. “Have you lost your mind? We didn’t bust in here so you could turn into one of those freaks.”

  “All of you. Shut up.” Jeremy sidled closer to Lily, suppressing a groan when his hard abs brushed her taut belly. He
used her form to shield his fingers as they removed a tiny gadget from beneath his sac.

  Not exactly suave or debonair. Bond had never had to work in reality. If Jeremy hadn’t taken the precaution, he would have lost the jammer to the pat down that had gotten more intimate than the first time he’d made it to third base with Drea Becraft under the bleachers of his high-school football field.

  He depressed the button and waited for the confirmation beep before relaxing.

  “All clear.” He shot his friends a glare before sharing his ire with Lily. “You dumbasses. I would never attack her. I thought you knew me better than that. You have to be more careful. I’d bet my right nut, which will bear a permanent dent from this fucking thing by the way, every inch of this place is wired. Don’t forget for one instant that they’re watching.”

  “Shit.” Matt grumbled beneath his breath, something Jeremy probably didn’t care to hear anyway. “Sorry, bro. This place has me on edge. Those women downstairs…”

  “I know.” Jeremy didn’t waste another second. He unhooked Lily’s gag without fumbling with the tricky catch. His training returned in a rush as though he hadn’t been absent from the lifestyle for a single day, never mind ten years.

  “Go slowly.” He worked Lily’s jaw from side to side, wincing at the crunchiness beneath his thumb and the soft pops he heard before allowing her to open wider and eject the foam plug.

  “Mother fucker.”

  “I missed you too.” Jeremy brushed a soft kiss over those glossy crimson lips, which still parted as though they’d forgotten how to close entirely. “What hurts the worst?”

  “My back.” She didn’t even grimace as she relayed the facts. “I’ve been in here about an hour. Unattended. Other than the cameras. Those bastards have no regard for safety.”

  Jeremy let her vent as he refastened his slacks and circled the pedestal. He picked apart the complex knot anchoring the bow tied neatly in the black ribbon. When it flowed free, he took his place in front of her once more.

 

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