by Dani Collins
“I’m not hurt. I want to understand! What’s his story? Does he ever take the mask off for anyone? Have you seen him without it?” She let that question hang for a second, then asked, “How did you two come to be so close? I mean, you performed amateur plays with him and it progressed to him screwing your lovers? Are you cool with that?”
A mild snort, then, “Relationships have never been my forte, Arianne. You grew up sexually repressed and I came from a household of intellectuals who treated emotions like they were a viral infection. Blow your nose, take some vitamin C and get over it. Quite frankly, I never developed possessive feelings for any of my lovers. If I was able to give them sexual pleasure, that felt like enough.”
What about me? Her heart climbed to sit as a knot of pressure in her throat, cutting off her ability to speak. She couldn’t bear hearing she was only one more sexual frolic for him.
“You’re the first person I’ve ever felt genuinely close to,” he surprised her by confiding.
The ache in her throat grew bigger, but in a good way. She blinked back a sudden sting in her eyes, touched beyond description.
“So I don’t want to fuck up and have you turn against me,” he added gruffly.
“How could Dominic taking off his mask turn me against you?” A zing of excitement went through her. She had him. Checkmate.
A cut-off curse, then, “Did you hear that? I have another call. We’re pulling an all-nighter and they’re probably asking when I’m coming in.”
Exasperated by his cheap cop-out, she blurted, “How could you go to Denver when you said last week you’d go on my cruise with me if I asked you to?”
“Have you changed your mind? Are you asking?”
“It doesn’t matter, does it? You’re in Denver.” She hung up on him.
* * *
Arianne was out to punish. Dominic was going to reveal himself as Jason, and vice versa, if it was the last thing she did. Denver. Like hell he was in Denver.
Arriving at the hotel, she used the key card he’d left her the other day when he’d sent her to the spa. Dominic, dressed in his damned mask, stood beside a large table, arranging little boxes. As she entered, he reached for a red sheet and draped it over the table and its contents.
“You’re early,” he said.
“What’s under there?” She approached, but made no effort to peek.
“Nice outfit,” he said. “Did you buy that for me?”
“Yes.” She paraded a circle around him and the table, moving back to the bedpost to pose.
The black boots were beyond Come Fuck Me. Spiked at the heel and climbing all the way to midthigh, they didn’t invite, they demanded she be ridden rough, fast and thoroughly. She’d found a denim-blue halter dress in brushed silk with yellow topstitching. A studded black leather belt nipped it in at her waist, while her hair was piled under a black motorcycle cap.
“It was a little dicey walking through the lobby. The rush of air from the door almost lifted this skirt, and then you and I wouldn’t be the only two people who know that you scalped me yesterday.”
“Do you have the receipt for that dress?” Dominic’s gaze didn’t waver from her belt as he moved toward her.
“You don’t like it?” She stuck out a belligerent hip, ignoring the twinge of disappointment. This outfit was supposed to make him crazy.
“Do you?” he insisted.
“Yes.” She pouted. “Why? Are you going to be all high-handed about what I wear? Tell me I can only wear what you— Whoa.”
He grabbed her by the belt and yanked her against him. His other hand knocked off the cap and grasped a handful of her hair. His kiss smothered any protest, not that she wanted to make any. The rabid way he engulfed her mouth shot excitement straight into the bare flesh her fluttering skirt had stimulated the entire walk down the hall.
When he let go of her hair, she let her head fall back, panting, only to cry out with surprise as he grasped her neckline and tore open the center seam, yanking the fabric aside to reveal her breast.
“What—uh!”
Curling his arm behind her back, he arched her up to his mouth and sucked hard on her tit. She went up on tiptoe, pressing her loins into him to ease the spiking ache in her flushing center.
His hand left her belt and fumbled between them, his knuckles grazing her slit. She tried following the elusive brush of his hand, but didn’t have to. He pushed the fabric of her dress into the wetness of her. Then the shape of his hard cock pushed against the material, seeking her entrance, leaving dabbed stains as the end of his dick wept against the silk.
“You’re ruining it,” she said, even though she was excited by his near-out-of-control demands. He kicked her boots apart, making her stumble. She fell back on the bed with another cry.
Grasping her belt in two hands, he jerked her ass to the edge of the bed and shoved her skirt up. While his cock searched for her entrance, his hands scooped beneath her, fingers digging the silk fabric of the skirt into the cleft of her buttocks, rubbing it against her anus while he lifted her into his first thrust.
She moaned out a response to his delicious penetration. He pulled her booted feet to his shoulders then skimmed his hands down them on the way to grasping her belt again so he could fuck her, hard, fast and thoroughly.
She came with embarrassing speed, in a screaming rush, the pulses ramming through her with the same unexpected urgency as his crazed possession. As she knotted her fists in the bedclothes and held herself still to enjoy those final hard thrusts, as her release crested and reveled in the iron-hard thickness that continued to slide inside her, he pulled out of her, pushed her thighs together around his slippery dick and hugged her boots as he continued thrusting, his veined length sliding in the furrow of her greased folds and closed thighs, his head rubbing her clit and working her toward another orgasm.
Before she got there, he came all over the front of her brand-new, bought just for him, slutty silk dress.
* * *
“You son of a bitch,” she said, looking down the front of herself as he stepped away and tucked himself back into his black leather pants.
He smirked.
“Don’t laugh! You completely ruined a three-hundred-dollar dress.” She pushed to her feet.
“What reaction were you looking for when you bought it?” He bent to scoop up her hat and plant it on her head.
“Not this!” She held the skirt out, examining the creamy stain. It would never wash. She tugged at the front, trying to cover her breasts, wondering if it could be sewn back together.
“Oh, give it up. You bought it hoping I’d attack you and I did. We both enjoyed that and you’re going to leave the receipt for me so I can buy you another. Two, maybe. That was fun. I really like those boots, by the way. Keep those on. And the hat. This—” he tugged to release and remove her belt “—was a very provocative touch.” He folded it with the studs inside and smacked his hand in a loud clap.
She jumped.
He winked and threw the belt on the end of the bed. “But lose that hankie.”
“You didn’t even kiss me,” she muttered, dropping the ruined dress to the floor and stepping out of it.
“I fucking well did, and if you hadn’t sucked my tongue so hard, I might have controlled myself. As it was, I realized what you wanted and didn’t bother slowing down. Now quit pretending you’re mad and come see what we’re doing today.” He dropped a light swat on her bare backside and she yelped, taking a few startled steps in her heels toward the table.
He swaggered beside her and she glanced up, her heart about to burst with love. Jason didn’t usually swear in front of her, and he’d kept his English accent firmly in place, but hints of him had been revealed in his playful wink, his easy camaraderie.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Today, my dear…” He started to pick up the corner of the red sheet, but paused when he glanced at her. He frowned. “I hurt you?”
“No.”
He t
ilted up her chin, looking deep into her eyes, still frowning.
She blinked back the dampness on her lashes. “I’m fine.”
He touched her shoulder, turning her, caressed her bottom, then shifted her to face him and looked at her naked peach.
“Sure?”
“Absolutely. Now tell me what we’re doing.”
“A woman’s favorite thing,” he said, whipping off the sheet. “Shopping!”
Arianne shifted around the table so she could see the faces of the boxes, taking in the full array of colorful condoms, scented oils, body art, intriguing costumes, whips, handcuffs, items she couldn’t identify and a generous assortment of artificial phalluses in varying sizes.
“Well!” she said.
“Even better, we’re shopping for one of the few things men like to shop for.” He sidled up behind her, his one gloved hand at her shoulder while the other crept around to fondle her breast.
She flinched from the cool of his leather pants pressing against her bare butt and shivered, giggling with a bit of nervousness. “I don’t know where to start,” she said.
“Not a worry.” He nibbled the side of her neck. “I’m feeling quite patient.”
“So smug,” she murmured, amused. With a coy look over her shoulder, she bent forward across the table, pushing her butt into the cradle of his lap. “I think I want to look at these.” She fingered the pearly beads on one of the costumes.
“Oh, not that one, love. I have plans for that.” He slid from behind her, his gloved hand trailing over her curves. He took what might have been a G-string and tossed it toward the bed. “You might like this, however.”
She watched him paw through the modest basket of bright silks and shiny sequins, coming up with what looked to be a very long string of pearls.
“We tie it around your waist,” he said, knotting it in a cool belt around her. “Then we feed a number of these little lovelies into your ass.”
“How many?” she asked with scandalized laugh.
“Until you say when.” He puddled the beads in his palm and closed his fist. “Later, when you’re about to come, I draw it out.” He demonstrated by turning his fist, showing her the delicate struggle of each bead to escape the small opening of his tightly curled glove.
Wicked heat pierced into her loins. “Sounds messy,” she said.
He shrugged, letting the two tails of the beaded belt fall to frame her naked puss. “Another time, perhaps. Oh. What about this?” He opened a box.
“Don’t you have to pay for it if you open it?”
“I’ve paid for all of it. I’ll get my money back on what we don’t use.”
“Oh.” She watched him reveal a pale yellow egg on a string.
He wet the tip with an openmouthed kiss, then drew the small end along the seam of her labia. “Help me out, darling. Spread.”
Adjusting the plant of her feet, she delicately peeled herself wide, watching the tip of the egg disappear south. He pressed, gently forcing it into her opening.
“I don’t think— Oh!”
It popped in, the hard shape of it sitting heavily inside her.
“Walk around a little,” he coaxed, tugging ever so slightly on the string, leading her in a circle around the table.
The movement inside her shifted with her motion and her pussy began to sweat as it worked like an oyster to expel what remained firmly lodged in the clamp of her vaginal walls.
“Is the string really a leash?” she asked, pausing when he turned to face her. “Or is it more like a tampon string, since I can’t imagine how else that thing is going to come out of me.”
“Both, but also to turn it on.” He flicked his thumb and the egg inside her hummed to life.
“Oh!” She screamed and covered her pussy with both hands.
Dominic cut the power and chuckled. “Didn’t mean to startle you, darling.”
“Get this thing out of me.” She tried to pull at the cord, but he caught her hands.
“No, wait. Let me show you.” He backed her against the table, his legs bracketing hers, pinning them together so her tugging on the cord only shifted the egg inside her, teasing her with the thrusting movement.
“I’ll get electrocuted or something.”
He laughed again. “No, you won’t. Here, see? This end goes in a bra.” He shook loose a spangled stripper bra that was no more than a couple of dots and dashes of silver fabric.
“It’s too small,” she said as he looped the straps over her arms and up to her shoulders.
“No such thing. Besides, I’m just showing you. See, the control goes here, against your nipple, because it vibrates, too. Now we turn it on.”
She jerked, trying to escape the unfamiliar sensation of intense heat and movement at her left nipple and deep inside her cunt.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he said, holding her in a tight embrace against him. “I can feel it against my chest, and even in my hand on your ass.” He nuzzled her hair away from her ear. “I can smell your pussy filling up with juice, you’re so excited.”
“It’s too fast.” She squirmed for freedom because the sensations were rocketing from nipple to pussy like lightning strikes. “I can’t—” The tidal wave of orgasm swamped her. She moaned and shuddered, falling apart, but trusting him to catch her.
Chapter Ten
It took a few minutes to realize the humming had stopped, and that he was dropping tender kisses on her damp brow.
As she came back to herself, panting, she realized he was gently pulling the bra off her arms. He tossed it back in the bin, then eased away from her, keeping a hand on her arm to steady her.
“Okay?” he murmured.
“Barely,” she breathed, leaning on the edge of the table.
“Well, I think it’s a keeper,” he said, tapping her inner thigh. “Open.”
She shifted, leaning harder on the table and crooking a knee.
Dominic used a steady pressure to draw it out. Arianne whimpered and pressed her tingling thighs together, unable to decide if she was horny or satisfied.
“Definitely a keeper,” Dominic said, rubbing the wet egg around each of her erect nipples, then dropping it on the abandoned red sheet.
“Is that how we’ll know we’re done today? When I’m completely coated in come?” she asked, leaning back on her hands.
“Pretty much, now quit distracting me.” He dragged his gaze off her breasts and spread her legs, his one hand clenching briefly around the bulge growing behind his fly. “We have a lot more experimenting ahead of us. What excites you?”
“I don’t know.” She lowered to an elbow on the cold table, bending her knee up and across so she was more comfortable. The handcuffs caught her eye and she lifted them on one finger. “Do you really want to tie me up?”
“Yes.”
The unequivocal word was pure Jason. Her heart gave a shaky thump. Trust suddenly became a spectrum, rather than a simple yes or no.
“Really?” she asked through a sudden attack of nerves.
“But that’s tomorrow. A little graduation celebration for both of us.” He tossed the cuffs toward the G-string, where they landed with a clatter.
She followed them with her eyes, realizing tomorrow was going to end in that same discordant clunk. Class dismissed.
“Look at you,” he said, flicking her distended nipple with one gloved fingertip. “Sprawling among your sex toys like the poster girl for debauchery. Nipple clamp?”
“No, thank you. I’m ready for you to fuck me again.” She sat up.
“We haven’t sized you for a dildo yet.”
She lifted one brow and nodded toward his crotch. “Something in that range will do.”
He shook his head. “I’m not competing with latex, my darling. If you want one in my size, you can work up the nerve to go into the store and buy it yourself.”
“So you brought this to tease me—” she held up a neon-pink dildo shaped in great detail and so closely proportioned to his own magnifice
nt cock that her pussy wept with anticipation “—and expect me to use this.” She lifted a plain phallus no bigger than her baby finger. It wasn’t particularly hard and lacked the thick knob that would catch on all the good places inside her. “Why does it have these straps?”
He took it from her, splaying his fingers inside the looping straps on either side of the little dick’s end. “A woman might wear it to fuck another woman,” he said, then bent to tap her boot. “Or you might wear it under your dress, instead of that egg.”
As she lifted each foot, he climbed the straps up her legs like underwear.
“That can’t be comfortable,” she said, watching him aim the tip of the dildo between her lips. Its shape slid up inside her, just big enough to make her aware she was being penetrated.
“Stand,” he said, easing her to her feet then adjusting the straps high on her hips. The back loops followed the crack of her ass like a thong. When he was done, the false penis was pressed tight inside her.
“This I could wear,” she said, pulling her hair up to tuck it mostly under her cap, shooting him a flirty look over her shoulder as she sauntered across the room, her boots making a soft clicking noise as she reached the hardwood. “I mean, that egg…people would think I’m epileptic. But this is a nice, slow simmer.”
He watched her move to the window and thrust out her hip in a way he’d shown her only days before. She turned, bent out her knee so the black straps would draw his gaze to where her pussy seeped as though sucking a hard candy.
Backing toward the divan, he tossed a cushion on the floor and sat down, his booted feet planted on either side.
“Come here,” he said with thick authority.
She did, taking her time, tugging lightly on the straps as the slippery phallus threatened to slide out.
“Yes?” she asked in a bored tone, even though she knew what he wanted.
“The other day,” he said, opening his breeches and lifting his hips to slide into a slouch, “you came in here and sucked me off like you’d been doing it all your life.”
She licked her lips, watching his fat cock emerge from the V of his fly. “I aim to please,” she said, keeping her feet apart as she shifted her weight, giving him the full effect of cap, dildo strap and bitch boots.