by Ann Jacobs
From the feel of it through his pants, his cock was long and thick. Her whole body tingled at the thought of him coming in her mouth, the thick, slick fluid sliding down her throat. He’d let go of his reserve, shout out his satisfaction. He wouldn’t be content with coming once. He’d make her come. She knew it. He’d take what he wanted, and in doing it he’d bring her to pleasure.
Yes. Eli could satisfy her. She was confident of that. But if he was truly the Dom she’d been seeking, would he steal the self-control she’d worked so hard for and take over her mind as well as her body? Every sub knew that danger, that the need to be dominated could easily destroy her whole life if her partner proved unworthy of trust. It was part of the knife edge, the craving that was too strong to be called a preference. But Eli had always been her mentor, the center of her support network at the hospital. And frankly, at the moment, whether or not it was the stress of her day impairing her judgment, she just didn’t care. Not when every cell in her body urged her to reach out and grab for that elusive brass ring of satisfaction.
But she hadn’t entirely lost her mind. The cloak of self-containment she’d fashioned for her image as a respected surgeon had been too hard won. She’d take him home for tonight, see if he could deliver beyond that one knee-weakening, panty-dampening command. Then she’d see if he was worth risking her heart again.
“Let’s do it,” she said, giving his cock a squeeze that was almost playful, challenging him as she put her shields in place again. Do your worst, Eli. Impress me. God, please impress me.
Chapter Two
Eli could hardly believe his luck. While he’d never have risked a sexual harassment claim by propositioning a coworker, he had no qualms about taking her up on her blatant offer. Not when it was what he wanted as much as she did.
He wasn’t about to ask what had come over her. No way would he turn down her brazen invitation, not when his entire body ached to claim her. She’d been quiet on the way home—to her own place, not his. She’d insisted on that.
She was trying to withdraw behind that cool façade again. He could tell. So when he got to her door, he silently held out his hand for her key, waiting to see if she’d give it to him, give him that sense of control. She did, her fingers whispering on his, a swallow almost hidden in the shadows making him tighten his hand on hers a minute before he turned, put the key into her door and stood back so she could go inside first.
It shocked him that she’d apparently done nothing to personalize her surroundings, that this place bore no hint as to who and what she was. The beige and black furnishings might have easily been found in a generically decorated three-star hotel room or one of the hospital’s lounges or waiting rooms. He’d bet even the few photos in their plain black wood frames had come with the place. Nothing reflected Margaret’s taste as he knew it. The apartment felt damn cold. And too organized to get comfortable in .
Like Margaret herself. Or like he’d thought she was before that kiss…
Eli had an inexplicable urge to trash the place, just as he wanted to break down the reserve Margaret had always shown him before that night when she kissed him on the dance floor. Heat her up and destroy that cool, collected persona.
But there hadn’t been anything remotely cool or collected about the way she’d stroked his cock under the table at the bar tonight. She’d shown him glimpses of the sensual creature he suspected lay below the brittle, controlled surface he was damned well going to shatter.
“This place reminds me of the surgery lounge. How do you stand it?” he asked, mentally contrasting the place with his own condo that he’d decorated in vivid colors, with an eye toward comfort. He’d lived in bachelor officers’ quarters too long not to have wanted some creature comforts in his life once he had a choice.
She shrugged. “This is the way it came when I rented it. Certain slave drivers at the hospital keep their residents too busy to worry much about their surroundings during the few hours they have at home. Come on. The bedroom’s more inviting.”
It was, but only because she was in it. Her deliberate movement as she peeled off her sweatshirt called his attention to hard little nipples outlined against the pale green silk of her bra, and when she stepped out of the pants he caught a glimpse of a dark shadow at the apex of her thighs, beneath a matching lacy thong.
He noticed a slight tremor in her usually steady hands when she hooked her thumbs into that hot-looking underwear. “You’re beautiful. Don’t be shy.” Her poise seemingly restored, she unhooked the bra and let it dangle between her fingers after stepping out of the thong.
Stripping down for sex. She’d done it methodically, with a singular lack of passion that disturbed Eli. Was she trying to tell him she wanted to come but didn’t plan to risk her emotions in the process?
Usually he didn’t care. But usually his feelings for his sex partners were purely physical. With Maggie, the lust was all mixed up with friendship and respect for the caring doctor and human being she was. Damn it, he wouldn’t let her withdraw emotionally. She wasn’t just another fuck, and he wasn’t about to let her use him just to scratch the itch between her legs. He wanted more. Much more. And he wasn’t about to let her deny him. “Look at me, Maggie.”
When she did, he read hesitation, maybe even a little fear in her expression. Desire shone in her eyes though. “Is it me you want, or will any hard cock do?”
“I want you. Please.” It was there. She had it strangled behind a low, even tone, but he sensed it. He couldn’t have read her wrong. He’d been doing this too long, although in some ways she was a first. He couldn’t recall ever having wanted a woman as much as he wanted her, or needing to make this work they way he sensed they both needed it to. Should he risk it? Was he reading it right that she wanted him to Master her?
His balls were about to burst. Her breasts were ripe and full enough to fill his hands. The way the nipples puckered with arousal made Eli’s mouth go dry with the need to taste them. God, but she took his breath away. Blood slammed into his cock so fast it left him breathless.
He couldn’t help imagining her firm, slender thighs cradling his cheeks while he gorged himself on the moist, warm haven of her neatly trimmed pussy. She had to be aware of the erotic picture she made, but she still stood there. Still but for a tiny tremor in her hands, the nibbling on her lower lip. She wasn’t as calm and collected as she apparently wanted him to think, but she was obviously determined to wait and let him make the first move.
He’d break through that reserve. He’d dig his fingers into her auburn curls, muss up her tidy coiffure. He’d take her mouth and tongue-fuck her until she begged for mercy, then fist his hands in her hair and drag her full, inviting mouth down on his aching cock.
God, she was a beauty, a naked goddess he had to admire from head to toe. If his mom hadn’t taught him a man had to act a gentleman around a lady he’d have grabbed her, forced her then and there to give over that control, accede to his mastery. Emotionally as well as physically.
She had delicate-looking eyebrows above big, cat-green eyes. A modest pug nose, the result of a damned good rhinoplasty unless he missed his guess. If she had on any makeup, he couldn’t tell. The column of her throat seemed made for kissing—and collaring. He liked her body, slim and athletic but with surprisingly full, firm breasts. Her pale, creamy skin that had a few barely discernable freckles dotting her shoulders and arms made his fingers itch to stroke it.
He liked his pussies shaved, and hers wasn’t. The neatly trimmed mahogany curls attracted his gaze, though, because they looked so soft. His cock twitched when he imagined her locking his face to her pussy, holding him captive there while he nibbled at her clit. His balls tightened almost painfully.
Still she didn’t move. That unnerved him. Damn it, he would find a way to defeat that scary self-control of hers. Make her let go. He’d make her come not once but over and over, and he’d storm the defenses he sensed she’d deliberately erected around her feelings.
“Do y
ou like what you see?” she asked, her tone conveying cool amusement.
Damn. He’d been staring at her cunt like a guy who’d been locked away for years. “Yeah. I like it a lot. Is it my turn now?” He visually raked her naked body once more before beginning to strip off his own clothes, tossing the lab coat and scrub shirt carelessly to the floor. Teasing her, watching her eyes glow with anticipation as he bared himself to her gaze, he made an unnecessarily complex production out of untying the knot in his scrub pants and letting them drift down to his feet.
“Want to see the rest?” Briefly he worried that his piercing might put her off.
“Don’t be shy now.” She met his gaze, her own full of challenge.
Margaret let out a little yelp when he shoved his boxers down around his ankles. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open, but she didn’t say a word.
“Well, doctor. I never imagined the sight of a naked man who isn’t strapped to a gurney would trigger such a shocked reaction. If I’d known, I’d have stripped for you a long time ago.”
“Maybe you should have.” Margaret couldn’t tear her gaze off him. The man was beautiful, broad-shouldered and lean hipped, his well developed muscles a reminder that she’d heard he was an avid bodybuilder. Her gaze settled on a shiny, hefty-looking gold barbell peeking from either side of the head of his long, thick penis. A fully aroused penis, its plumlike pierced head glistening against his taut, bronzed belly. The piercing was an Ampellang, said to enhance the sexual experience better even than the more common Prince Albert.
She wanted to taste the drop of lubrication gathered in the slit at the tip of his cock head and fondle the large testicles drawn taut in their sac against his body. She wanted to sample every inch of him, run her hands over his hard torso. She liked that he didn’t have much body hair to mar his deeply tanned body, except for the silky dark growth on his head, brows and eyelashes, his neatly trimmed mustache and goatee—and the soft, dark nest that cushioned his sex. Just looking at him had her pussy steaming.
At the lounge when he’d taken control, put her hand on his cock and given her that even look, she’d been sure she was dealing with a Dom. But her heart had sunk a little as she’d stripped off her clothes, feeling her usual shielding settling into place. He’d just stared at her, as though he wasn’t sure what to do about her sudden remoteness.
Tear it down. Make me yours. If he was a true Dom, he should have been able to see how she was trapped inside herself. He should have known she needed his control to break free, let herself go. No, she wasn’t being fair or rational, not these days when Oprah and Dr. Phil said a woman had to talk about her feelings ad nauseum. But it was what she was. What she needed. She wanted him to connect with her on a primal level far below such civilized turnoffs and know what she wanted without her saying a word.
Then he brought her hope back to life with such a rush that she swayed, her knees suddenly going weak. “Sit on the edge of the bed.” His stern tone was an order, not a request.
Omigod. He was a Dom. A closet one, maybe, but still a Dom. She should be thrilled. Part of her was. She should also be terrified that he’d want to extend his dominance much farther than the bedroom. Thrilled would do for the moment, though. Listening to the clear tone of command in his voice and looking at his impressive sex left her speechless with anticipation for the pleasure she sensed he’d deliver. Her flesh grew hot, and moisture pooled between her legs. Her nipples tightened and tingled.
“I said ‘sit’. I want to make you feel good,” he repeated, stepping closer, as though her hesitation was testing his patience.
Margaret knew he’d force her to relinquish the control she fought so hard for. She couldn’t stop him. Truth was, she didn’t want to stop him. Yes she did. She didn’t dare give in. But he left her no choice because her body screamed for his touch, his mastery. She sat on the edge of her king-size bed, not bothering to turn back the duvet with its quilted cover.
“Lie back.” Not waiting for her response, he knelt and pulled her legs over his shoulders.
“Yes, Master.” There must have been some part of her perverse enough to want to let him know he’d found a secret sub in the body of a take-charge sort of woman. That was the only explanation she could come up with for the words that had just escaped her mouth.
His expression toughened, as if the significance of what she’d just called him was sinking in. Then he smiled, his face a feral mask not unlike a big cat stalking his mate. “That’s a good slave,” he said, sliding his big hands up her torso, cupping her breasts and running his thumbs over the distended nipples before sliding his hands back down between her legs.
Her cunt was weeping for him to take her. Mold her to his will. His hot, wet breath on her pussy honed her anticipation to a fever pitch, and when he used his thumbs to open her labia and touched his tongue to her swollen clit, she became his willing sex slave.
He tasted her honey, making long, lazy strokes of his tongue along her slit, driving her mad to come. Then he opened his mouth over her throbbing clit and sucked it in, nipping at the rigid bud with his teeth when she threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him captive there. His groan reverberated against her flesh, the sensation incredibly arousing. Almost as arousing as the musky smell of sex that surrounded them.
Encouraged when he sank two fingers into her sopping cunt, she pressed harder on his perfectly shaped head, tunneling her fingers into his short, brown curls, so smooth compared with the sandpapery texture of his cheeks as they brushed against her swollen labia. But he only flayed her clit with his tongue and sucked her deeper into his mouth. Then he blew on her clit once more—and laughed at her when she whimpered at the delicious feelings that were building inside her.
“You like that, don’t you?” The rumble of his words bounced off her sensitized flesh. Delicious tension built up in her belly, her nipples, her swollen cunt.
“Oh, yes. Thank you.”
He looked at up her, a frown on his rugged face. He wanted her to say it. If she’d had doubts about him being a true Dom, he’d just chased them away.
“Thank you, Master.” At the moment she wanted—no, she needed—to be Eli’s sex toy.
“You’re welcome.” His hot gaze locked on hers, he licked her essence off his lips and chin. It was the most sensuous act she’d ever witnessed. Then, still focusing on her face, he ran his hand along her slit, dipping a finger into her cunt then lower, rimming her anus. “I’m going to fuck you here, too.”
His cock was too big. It would split her apart. “No.”
He slipped his finger inside, just far enough to rest against her tight anal sphincter. “I’ll be ever-so careful, baby. Relax. You’ll love it.” Getting up, he positioned himself over her on the bed. “Taste yourself on my mouth.”
Then he kissed her, filling her senses with the slick, salty essence and heady smell of her own arousal. Oh God. Remembering the delicious sensation of him kneeling between her legs, tonguing her, sucking her clit and exploring all the orifices he’d soon fuck had her incredibly needy. She was frantic—horny in a way she hadn’t been since she’d said goodbye to her former master.
Was it crazy for her to think that in a matter of moments, Eli had realized the only way she could come was when her lover made her helpless in fact as well as powerless to resist his command? But it hadn’t been just a sudden realization. He’d been working with her for months, and apparently he’d studied everything about her, picked up things she’d never known she’d revealed. Now, as if proving it, he met another need when he tangled his tongue with hers, taking her breath. He lowered his body onto hers, pressing her into the mattress, showing he could control her with nothing more than his superior size and strength. Her nipples throbbed at the contact with his hard, muscular chest.
Damn it. He seemed content to toy with her, make her so hot she’d beg. She needed his big cock in her cunt now. She longed for him to make her submit to pleasure. Stretching out one arm, she opened the draw
er of her nightstand.
She wrenched her lips away from his. “Please. Use whatever you want to.” When he turned and perused her selection of toys, Margaret trembled with anticipation. Although some of the toys worked well when she had to satisfy herself, others had been bought to please her former master.
Turning away from the drawer, Eli got up and dragged her to her feet at the edge of the bed. “On your knees. You can suck me off while I choose what I’m going to use on you.” Eager to please him and even more eager to taste the pierced head of his massive cock, she wasted no time complying with his order. Kneeling, she ran her tongue around his cock head, tasted the salty, slick lubrication at its tip. Tangling her fingers in his pubic hair, she tightened her fingers around the thick base and squeezed. Curious, she licked the length of him then used the tip of her tongue to nudge the ball-shaped tip of his cock jewelry. “Roll the barbell around with your tongue. Mmmm. Keep it up. You give great head. Go on. Squeeze my balls, too. Easy. Don’t want to make me come too soon. And close your eyes. I want to surprise you with my choice of toys.”