Dangerous Master

by Tawny Taylor

  He turned her so she was trapped between the wall and his bulk. She tried to decide whether she needed to scream for help or listen to what he wanted to tell her. She looked up into his dark eyes. They looked intense but not terrifying.

  No, she wouldn’t scream. Not yet.

  “What do you want?” Her voice sounded small. She felt small, too. He was so tall, so big. And, more than that, he gave off a powerful presence, an energy that made her feel powerless and vulnerable.

  “You like to watch. It makes you wet.”

  “Um.” A gush of heated cream dampened her panties. He was right, in some respects. She would much rather watch than participate.

  He leaned closer, closer still. His breath was sweet, his body warm. “Watch me.”

  A shudder swept through her body. Hell yes, she’d like to do that. But... but... He lowered his mouth to hers, brushed his lips across hers. The door behind her swung open, and she practically tumbled into the room. He grabbed her upper arms, steadying her as she regained her footing. Her gaze lifted to his. Dark eyes locked to soft blue. Mandy’s heart did a funky pitter-patter-thump in her chest.

  Zane motioned behind her. “Won’t you have a seat?”

  “I shouldn’t.”

  Zane tipped his head slightly. “Shouldn’t, but you want to. You will.”

  She’d say one thing for this guy—he didn’t lack confidence. “No, I don’t think I will.” She twisted her body to break out of his loose hold. She saw then what was behind her.

  A man, nude. A gorgeous man. Kneeling. Head tipped down. Hands resting on smooth-skinned thighs.

  Was that ... ? Could it be ... ?

  His face was hidden, but she was almost positive Zane’s waiting submissive was none other than Andrew Clark.

  Hot damn!

  She smiled up at Zane. “On second thought, maybe I will accept your invitation. Thank you.” She let Zane escort her to the comfortable-looking couch positioned along one wall. She sank into the soft cushions, swung one leg over the other, and plunged her hand into her jacket pocket.

  Her camera was gone.

  Damn. How? When?

  Zane gave her an evil grin as he shut the door, trapping her inside the room with him. “Were you looking for something, Amanda?”

  “Nope.” Bastard. That was the second camera he’d taken from her.

  “Good.” He sauntered to the minibar in the room’s corner. “Drink?”

  “Water’s fine.”

  He opened a bottle of Perrier and poured a glass, adding a lemon slice before taking it to her. Their fingertips grazed as he passed the glass to her. Her face went instantly hot as his sharp eyes studied her. “Enjoy.”

  She had the distinct impression he wasn’t talking about the water. “Thanks.” She sipped while he searched the contents of the cabinet sitting along one wall.

  He picked a leather flogger from the cabinet and went to his submissive. “What makes you hot, Amanda?” Zane dragged the dangling leather straps over the submissive’s shoulders. Mandy’s gaze slid from Zane’s face to the sub’s body. His skin was coated in goose bumps, his muscles visibly tensing underneath. “Is it just the sight of flesh?”

  Mandy’s pussy clenched. That was a part of it. Particularly when that flesh was so freaking beautiful. “Maybe.”

  His gaze locked on hers. “I don’t think that’s it at all.”

  “Then why don’t you tell me?”

  Zane flicked his wrist. The tails struck the submissive’s back. Mandy flinched. The submissive didn’t. Her heart started hammering against her breastbone. The submissive remained perfectly still, stone-statue still. Mandy had no idea how he did that. Zane’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Or is it the pain that makes your pussy wet?”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s definitely not that.”

  Zane struck the submissive a second time. Mandy felt her face burning up.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” Her fingers curled around the edge of the couch cushion.

  “Your pussy’s wet now.”

  That it was. But not because she was watching some poor man get whipped. She wasn’t sadistic. Only sadists would get hot from that.

  Mandy shrugged.

  Zane flogged the submissive a third time, a fourth. He motioned for Mandy to come to him. She didn’t move at first. But when he motioned a second time, she came closer. “Look. At his face,” he told her.

  Mandy had to squat down to see the man’s face. Sure enough, it was Andrew Clark’s face she was looking at.

  Andrew’s pupils were dilated so wide, she could barely see the ring of color circling them. Andrew’s chest was rising and falling faster than normal, and his neck and chest were flushed a deep crimson.

  Of its own will, her gaze dropped to his cock. It was thick and hard and its tip glistened with precum. A silver metal cock ring circled his penis and testicles, sitting flush to his pelvis. She couldn’t seem to look away.

  “Do you like his cock?” Zane asked.

  She liked it okay, but she sure as heck wasn’t going to touch it or anything. “Um, sure.”

  Zane stooped behind her. He was too close. Her nerves were zapping and buzzing. “Do you want to touch it?”

  The object of their conversation twitched.

  Her mouth dried up. “No, thanks.”

  “Do you want to suck it?”

  Andrew’s cock twitched again. The flared head visibly swelled a little more.

  “No, thanks. I’d rather just watch.” Mandy started to stand. Zane stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

  “Stay there.” That was a command. An order.

  “I think it would be better—”

  “I said, stay there.” Zane bent over her shoulder. His breath puffed in her ear. Her body tingled. “Watch.”

  She thought about telling him to fuck off and leave. If the guy kneeling in front of her hadn’t been Andrew Clark, she probably would have. She was so not liking this bossy asshole dom thing. But she decided it would be a good thing if she played along for now. If Zane invited her into another one of these private sessions with Clark, she’d have another shot at getting her pictures. The trick would be concealing the camera better.

  She gnawed on her lower lip and settled into a comfortable position on the floor.

  “Look at her,” Zane said to his slave as he straightened up. “She’s watching you. She’s hungry for your cock.”

  Andrew’s dilated eyes found hers. His lips parted slightly, his breathing visibly speeding up.

  “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Zane circled around the back of Andrew.

  “Yes, master.”

  Zane bent over his slave, leaning close to him. Zane’s eyes found Mandy’s. His lips curled into a seductive smile. “You want her to suck your cock down her throat.” A very different image flashed in Mandy’s mind, of Zane standing nude before her, his cock thrusting into her mouth.

  Andrew visibly trembled. “Oh, yeah.”

  Zane flogged him again. “You want to shoot your cum down her throat.”

  Andrew licked his lips. His eyelids were heavy, the deep red stain coloring his neck creeping up to his face. “Yeah.”

  Zane struck him again, and Andrew shuddered. “You want to grab her hair and fuck her mouth.”

  Was that what Zane wanted? Mandy’s empty pussy clenched as a wave of warmth surged through her body.

  “Oh, yeah.” Andrew’s teeth gritted. His skin shimmered as a coating of sweat slicked his shoulders, his back, his stomach. He was going to cum. Just from being flogged? “More, please. More.”

  Zane’s wrist flicked again, again. And with each strike, Andrew’s body became tenser, hotter, his cock harder. And, thanks to Zane’s sharp-eyed gaze catching her reaction every time, Mandy became more breathless, dizzy, and tight all over. “Come now!” Zane demanded. “Catch it in your hand.”

  Andrew closed his fist over the head of his cock. His head fell back. His whole body q
uaked and then spasmed. He roared as his fist filled with his come.

  On the verge of coming herself, Mandy watched. At Zane’s dark look of satisfaction, a flood of slick warmth soaked her panties. That was nothing like she’d expected. It was strange and unsettling and bizarre. And freaking hotter than hell.

  Zane pushed Andrew’s head to the side and dragged his tongue up the length of his neck. “Very good. You have pleased me.” He walked around them, stopping directly behind her. He leaned over her shoulder. Painfully aware of his heat, Mandy shivered. “Did you enjoy that, Amanda?”

  “Y-yes,” she said, her pussy warm, her panties sodden, her senses überalert. She inhaled deeply, smelling Zane and Andrew. Man and cum and sex. God, it wouldn’t take more than a stroke or two to send her over the edge.

  Where was her rabbit when she needed it?

  “Very good. I’m not finished with you.” Zane helped her to her feet, and she staggered back to the couch. Meanwhile, Zane and Andrew sat and talked quietly. She drained her glass and stood, prepared to leave them alone. Zane gave her a don’t-go look and held up an index finger.

  Andrew nodded, said one last thing, then gathered his clothes and left.

  Now she was alone with Zane. All alone. And he’d said he wasn’t done with her.

  What did he have in mind?

  He sauntered over to her with a loose-hipped swagger. He didn’t sit. “Who’s your client?”

  Okay, so that wasn’t what she’d expected. She threw one leg over the other and crossed her arms. The position only added to the ache between her legs. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that.”

  “I’ll find out.”

  Mandy shrugged.

  Bending at the waist so his eyes were level with hers, he pinched a lock of her hair between his finger and thumb. “I could get you banned from every club in the state.”

  She wondered if he was bluffing. “For what?”

  “None of them look too kindly on people bringing cameras into their establishments. All I’d have to do is show them this.” He pulled her camera from his pocket.

  She believed him. “You got me. I did sneak a camera in here. And I brought one into your private party. And you know I’m working as a private investigator. Still, you invited me in here. Why?”

  “So I could get this from you before you used it.” He toyed with the camera, a long, tapered finger tracing its length. She could almost imagine him touching her like that, his finger tracing down the hollow of her stomach.

  Her brain was turning to mush. She struggled to think, to respond, to say something. “That’s all? You tricked me into coming in here with you just so you could pick my pocket?” Then a moment of clarity came to her. “Wait, you had the camera before I’d even come into this room. I know you did.”

  His fingers curled into her hair. He bent down, until his nose was in the crook of her neck, and inhaled. So much for clarity. So much for her brain. “Maybe you’re right.” His teeth rasped her neck. “Maybe I wanted to punish you.”

  4

  This woman was tormenting him. In a bad way. In a good way. Good and bad. And damn if she didn’t deserve to be punished for what she’d done, both intentionally and unintentionally. His body was on fire. He needed to feed, but Bruce wasn’t there and he was in no condition to go find him. Why? Because his cock’s throbbing was far more agonizing at the moment than the hunger burning in his belly. He wanted to fuck Amanda. No, he needed to fuck her.

  She was wet.

  She was ready.

  But he couldn’t take her now.

  He fought to rein in his baser urges as he nipped her neck, drawing the scent of her need deep into his lungs. He could taste her arousal in the air, could imagine her wet pussy folds glistening as he parted them to slide his tongue inside her.

  His cock, already so hard it hurt, twitched. How he longed to tear off his trousers and shove his cock into her lush mouth, to lick her pussy until she begged him to take her.

  Soon.

  He nibbled on her ear and smiled as a coat of goose bumps puckered over her shoulder. He loved to watch her body react to him, to his look, his touch. He could only imagine how she’d react to his kiss. Her breasts were rising and falling swiftly, the points of her nipples poking at the smooth material of her top. He imagined pulling one of them into his mouth and drawing hard on them.

  “W-what are you going to do?” she asked, her soft voice breathy.

  “What do you think I should do?” His fingers still wound in her hair, he moved down her body until one of those little visible peaks was directly in front of his mouth. He looked up into her dilated eyes. “Should I torment you until you beg me to stop?”

  Her lips parted. Her eyes widened. But she didn’t speak.

  He took that as a yes and closed his mouth over her covered nipple, capturing it between his teeth.

  “Oh, God.” Beneath him, she arched her back like a cat, pushing her breast against his face.

  He flicked his tongue over the hard tip, up and down, up and down. Releasing one hand from her silken hair, he found the other nipple and pinched it between his finger and thumb.

  She slammed her hands on the swell of his shoulders, curling her fingers and digging her nails into his flesh. The pleasure-pain only amplified his need.

  “I’m going to punish you until you can’t take any more.” Taking his cue from her reaction, he pulled her shirt up, exposing her tits to his hungry eyes. Damn, those were two of the most perfect tits he’d ever seen. His mouth filled with saliva. His blood boiled in his veins.

  “Ohmygod,” she muttered, her eyelids fluttering closed. “This is crazy.”

  “Is it?” He couldn’t deny himself for another second. He lowered his head and flicked his tongue over one pink nipple, taking his first taste. Yet another wave of excruciating carnal need blazed through his body, the intensity clouding his mind. He pulled her nipple into his mouth, suckling deeply, drawing the flavor of her skin into his throat. But that only made the agony more unbearable.

  Just who was punishing who?

  “Ohhhh ... nooooo.” She locked her arms, forcing him back. Her nipple slipped from his mouth with an audible pop. Their eyes met. Hers were full of desperation and lust and confusion. “I can’t.”

  “Can’t what?” He licked his lips, savoring her flavor still clinging to them.

  “Can’t let you do this.” She pulled her shirt down. But those hard little points poked at the clingy black material. “I’m not... your type.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I don’t...” She hesitated. She licked her lips. He liked the way she did that, could see that pink tongue of hers swirling around the head of his cock. “You know I’m not here to learn about D/s. I’m not a submissive. I’m pretending.”

  She wasn’t pretending. Not earlier. Not now. “Are you sure about that?”

  She lifted a visibly shaking hand, pointing at the flogger he’d used on Clark. “I’m sure that if you hit me with that whip, I wouldn’t orgasm.”

  He felt himself smiling at the thought of flogging her. “Maybe not yet. But you could learn.”

  A deep red stain swept up her neck. She fiddled with her hair, using clumsy hands to gather the long waves away from her pretty face. “No, no. I couldn’t.”

  He didn’t want to talk anymore. “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said to.”

  “But I told you—”

  He cut her off by crushing her mouth under his. She wriggled beneath him for one, two, three seconds, her mouth tight. But by the fourth second, she stopped struggling. Her lips parted, and he slipped his tongue inside her, tasting her, exploring her sweet depth.

  He could kiss her forever.

  She sighed into their joined mouths, wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her. His body sank until it rested on top of her soft curves. Her heat warmed him. Her breath soothed him. Her sweet flavor devastated him. All he could thi
nk about was taking her, keeping her, protecting her.

  Amanda’s tongue found his. They stroked, they explored, they battled, and, as the kiss deepened, they conquered. One of Amanda’s hands skimmed down his arm, following it to the wrist before slipping between their bodies and brushing over the throbbing bulge at the front of his pelvis. She gasped.

  “You see,” he whispered against her lips. “You are my type.” He rocked his hips forward, pressing his engorged rod against her palm. The light rasp of the material over his erection made him shudder.

  “But—”

  He silenced her again, this time by grazing his teeth over her collarbone. “Haven’t you ever considered the possibility that punishment could be pleasurable?”

  “Pleasant punishment? What would be the point of that?”

  “I’ll show you.” He levered back, his hips still thrust forward, shoved his hands under her shirt, and slid them up to cover her breasts. “I’ll show you how pleasant torment can be.” His palms rasped the turgid peaks. “I’ll take you to the edge of control.” He pinched them, just hard enough to make her tense up all over. Then, when she relaxed slightly, he rolled them between his finger and thumb until she was tight and trembling.

  “I ... I don’t know.”

  “Don’t let fear hold you back.” He pushed her top up under her chin. “Your tits are beautiful. If they were mine, if you were mine, they’d always be uncovered.” He weighed her breasts, one in each hand. “Perfect.” He took one nipple into his mouth, alternatively suckling and flicking his tongue back and forth over it. Then he moved to the other one, doing the same thing. As he inhaled, the scent of her cream teased his nostrils. The sound of her little gasps and moans of pleasure tormented his ears. The taste of her skin tortured his taste buds. It was going to take every bit of the discipline he’d honed over the years to hold back. But he’d do it. Somehow.

  “Now, close your eyes,” he commanded, knowing she was ready.

  This is crazy.

  What am I doing?

  Oh, God, don’t stop.

  Currently sprawled on the couch, Mandy didn’t know what she was thinking. Or what she wanted. Or what she didn’t want. Or what she feared.