MasterofVelvet

by Kirstie Abbot

  With the lightest touch she explored the textures of his body, the crisp hair adorning his pectorals, the smooth skin in the area of his collarbone, the brown nipples small and already hard. When her tongue flicked over the sensitive flesh his body jerked in reaction and he grunted but said nothing.

  Beth suckled hungrily on each nipple, aware of two things—the growing wetness between her legs and the extraordinary self-control of the man she loved. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides under the onslaught of her mouth yet he betrayed nothing.

  It was quite simple really, she thought with a hidden smile. She adored everything about this man. The way he smelled, so masculine, appealing to her most basic feminine desires. His intellect, his strength of mind and character, his powerful body and his dark, brooding good looks. And above all his courage, such a fundamental part of him.

  She moved behind him, her left hand trailing across his stomach with its clearly defined abs. The shirt was starting to annoy her. It had to go so she grasped the collar with both hands and drew it down his back and arms, tossing it aside with impatience.

  Her heart constricted for a moment at the sight of the scars on his back and what they represented—especially now that she knew the whole story, that he’d got them while trying to save the life of one of his men without a thought for his own safety.

  She put her arms around his waist and rested her head against his back for a few moments—not liking the way he flinched at the first contact but feeling some relief when he visibly relaxed. He relaxed more when she began to litter his scars with light, loving kisses, his head dropping to assume an almost submissive posture.

  “Master.” Though she’d thought it many times this was the first time she’d called him by that title. “I love you so much it hurts,” she whispered, her voice aching with honesty. “You’re beautiful and I’m hungry for you all the time. Every moment away from you is a moment I hate. It’s a moment I’ll never get back and get to spend with you again. All I have to do is look at you, think about you and I want you. No, don’t move, please,” she requested, when he would have turned around.

  “This time is for you, Sir. Please let me please you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  Beth froze. She must have misheard. Two words and she was momentarily stunned into silence. When he’d said she could do what she wanted with him she had never even imagined that something like that might be going through his mind—something so diametrically opposed to her way of thinking.

  “Adam?” The question was in her voice.

  He continued to look straight ahead, almost standing to attention. “I love you, Beth. I’ve never allowed a sub to top me before. I don’t know if it will ever happen again but for once I want to be your slave. I need to be your slave.”

  Beth felt like her knees would give way. “Adam…I can’t. You can’t. I have no clue where to start. I don’t have your training. I’d have no idea what I was doing. What if I hurt you?”

  “You won’t, Mistress.”

  “Adam, you don’t mean this—you can’t! It’s not what you are!”

  His shoulders lifted as he took a deep breath and when he spoke his voice was husky with need. “It’s what I need, Mistress. Whatever you do to me I can take it. But it has to be you.”

  “Why? Why do you want this, Adam? Help me to understand.”

  At that he turned, looking briefly into her eyes with an expression of such pain that her breath caught in her throat. She watched him kneel in front of her, head bowed, hands resting palms uppermost on his thighs. “I need to forget, Mistress,” he said quietly. “Just for a while. Help me to forget.”

  Forget what?

  Her heart broke for him in that instant. Hesitantly she reached out, wondering if she should touch him, try to reassure him. When her hand rested lightly on his shoulder she felt the way he shuddered, a quiver of movement that made everything shift into focus even if she still didn’t understand what was going on.

  “Then you will remember that I am your Mistress,” her voice shook as she spoke, her mouth saying things her mind refused to take responsibility for, “and you will refer to me as such until you are permitted to do otherwise. While you’re my slave you will keep your eyes lowered unless I allow you to do otherwise. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “And your safeword is garnet. It will bring a complete halt to whatever is going on. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Tell me your safeword.”

  “Garnet, Mistress.”

  A strange feeling writhed in her belly like nothing she’d ever felt before. Hearing her strong, masterful lover call her by that title was turning her on in a completely different way but at the same time she was starting to feel the enormous weight of responsibility carried by every Dominant.

  That Adam was expressing a desire to submit to her did not diminish him in her eyes. If anything it made her love and respect him even more.

  “Stand up, Adam. Remove your boots and socks.”

  God, he looked so gorgeous standing there in just jeans, his torso and feet bare. Alpha male through and through yet he was surrendering control to her.

  “Hands at your side, Adam.”

  Beth’s level of arousal went soaring off the scale. Even in submission he was a magnificent male animal. His back straight, his eyes lowered respectfully, his naked chest—all combining to create an all-consuming hunger within her.

  A noble warrior enslaved. Strength and energy radiated from him, all held in check, only to be released at her command.

  She placed her left forefinger on his breastbone, only the nail making contact with his skin. To his credit he didn’t move a muscle as she began to draw a line straight down the center of his chest to his abs, dipping briefly into his navel and stopping at the fastening of his jeans. His erection beneath the zip was unmistakable.

  Her hand laid over the ridge of his cock, Beth felt it surge demandingly against her fingers. “You want to come, don’t you Adam?”

  “Only when it pleases you to permit it, Mistress.”

  She slipped her fingers into the top of his jeans, unfastened the button and slowly drew the zip down. It was apparent almost immediately that he had gone commando and as she peeled away the faded denim his erection sprang free.

  Beth continued to push the worn fabric down his legs, admiring their unmoving muscular strength as she went. When the fabric bunched at his ankles, she ordered him to lift first one foot and then the other so that she could remove the jeans completely and toss them to one side.

  His cock was at eye level, a work of art in mortal flesh, balls heavy and solid at its base. Beth leaned forward, inhaling the musky scent of him and then, very precisely, she licked the underside of his cock, one slow stroke from the base to the tip.

  His hands became fists again as a guttural growl of arousal escaped his lips.

  Beth stood up and backed away from him. What was she going to do with him? She’d never looked at the Dominant side of the equation with a view to assuming that role herself, so she had no real idea how a Top was supposed to behave. She’d just have to wing it.

  “Lie down, Adam.”

  He obeyed her immediately. In the absence of detailed instructions he lay with his arms at his sides, hands flat on the bed, his legs straight, feet about eighteen inches apart.

  Think, Beth!

  The toy box. Adam had moved some of the toys from the playroom into the bedroom—perhaps there’d be something in there that would inspire her. She really didn’t want to have to resort to something like the flogger—that just felt completely wrong. Not only that, she hadn’t been trained in the use of such implements so she was really afraid of doing something wrong in spite of what he’d said.

  A quick rummage revealed wrist and ankle cuffs—a good start. To go with the ankle restraints, there was an adjustable spreader bar. That would put him in an open, vul
nerable position, enabling her to make the most of the control she had over him. What to do with his arms?

  Beth didn’t want him spread-eagled, displayed as a living adaptation of da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. Legs yes but she had a different vision for his arms. Another search of the box uncovered a shorter spreader bar—using that with the wrist cuffs, his arms would be stretched more vertically than horizontally. If she could just work out a way to anchor the spreader bars in place…

  A hot image flashed across her imagination. She found exactly what she needed and a few moments later Adam was in exactly the position she’d imagined, with pillows and cushions supporting his body where necessary.

  “Are you all right?” she asked. “Does anything hurt? Tell me if it does.”

  His control was absolute until she asked those questions, her voice tender with concern. His eyes flicked over her face, briefly making contact with hers, and what she saw there could only be pure devotion. Then the contact ended and he averted his gaze.

  “Forgive me, Mistress. I’m all right.”

  Still fully dressed, apart from having kicked off her boots, Beth sat on the bed by his legs. She felt his thigh muscle tense under her hand as she started a slow, deliberate, tactile exploration of his glorious nudity.

  “So Adam,” she began, aware that she was trying to buy time to organize her thoughts and develop some sort of plan, “you said you need to submit to me. What do you need from me to help you to fulfill that desire?”

  He swallowed hard and his Adam’s apple bobbed visibly. “I’m yours, Mistress. Now. Forever. Please…use me for your pleasure.”

  It gave her pleasure simply to look at him, to gorge her eyes on the magnificent male restrained for her enjoyment. She went to kiss his mouth but stopped halfway, paused a moment or two and then caged his body beneath hers, one hand on either side of his head, braced for support while her knees were on either side of his hips.

  From that position she could look down on him, her gaze burning with longing and desire as she slowly lowered her head to kiss his lips, catching the lower between her teeth, sucking on it as she had done his nipples and relishing his suppressed moan of arousal.

  She invaded his mouth with her tongue, coaxing a response from every corner of his soul, light and dark. When he began to demand a response back she withdrew her mouth from his and began to press hot, wet kisses along his jawline and down his throat, working her way toward his chest.

  With the tip of her tongue, she began to delineate the ridges of muscle. He tasted of salt and sweat and delicious, virile male and when she’d worked her way down to his navel, she licked a direct line straight up the center of his body, to devour his mouth with a punishing kiss.

  “Now…what of your pleasure, Adam?”

  When she saw the droplet of moisture trickle from the corner of his eye she wished she hadn’t asked the question. Damn it, what was going on in his mind? “It’s all right, my love—you’re safe here, with me. Nothing can hurt you here.”

  With great calmness and sense of purpose, she leaned down and kissed his lips again. She heard the clink of chains as he moved, kissing her back.

  “No, Mistress.” His voice was a harsh whisper. “Hurt me. Please, I need you to hurt me.”

  His hoarse plea sent her eyes back to his beloved face even as she drew back almost in horror at what he’d said.

  She’d never seen such haunted bleakness before. Wherever he was, it wasn’t here, it wasn’t now—he was drowning in some past horror, letting it overwhelm him and consume him. Even as she watched he sank deeper, going further and further away from her.

  Panic rose up and would have choked her but Beth fought it down. Now was not the time for that. She needed to pull Adam back, get him out of the claws of whatever held him in a vise-like grip.

  “Adam!”

  There was a flicker of response at the sound of his name and it gave Beth hope that he might not be lost to whatever was happening in his mind. Over and over she said his name, shouted it, whispered it. She cajoled him, she remonstrated with him, she seduced him—and in between using his name as if it were a talisman she told him she loved him.

  And gradually she watched him come back to her. Their eyes connected again and a moment later his eyelids descended, as if he just couldn’t face her.

  His respiration, calming now, was still shallow. Beth stroked his hair back from his face. What was she to do? He needed something from her, but what?

  Beth knew she was avoiding the issue—he’d already told her.

  He needed pain.

  Bracing her hands on his rib cage, she positioned herself precisely over his cock then lowered herself so that the rough material of her jeans came into contact with his sensitive, aroused flesh. He moaned, his hips rising to meet her.

  “Remember your safeword, Adam, and use it if you want this to stop.” She began to move, a gentle riding motion that would rub his cock and increase his arousal—an arousal she was determined should not culminate in orgasm just yet.

  She felt him straining beneath her, trying to fuck her through her jeans. Acting purely on instinct, she pinched and twisted his nipples to get his attention. She got it.

  “Do not try to fuck me, Adam.” Her voice was stern. “You are not allowed to fuck me, you are not allowed to come. Not yet.”

  She unfastened her shirt, opening it up to show him that she was naked beneath it and relishing the fire that fought the haunted look in his eyes. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  Hungry for the man beneath her, she lay down on top of him, loving the heat of his skin next to hers. Wanting him was like a fever, burning her up—she could eat him alive. Her mouth branded him everywhere—everywhere except on his mouth, knowing as she did just how much he wanted that connection again. His cock was straining against her pussy even though it was still shielded by her clothing.

  Beth reached for his hands, twining her fingers with his, in full knowledge that the action would offer her breasts to his mouth. As her slave he would not be allowed to draw her nipple into his mouth—he ordered him to resist the temptation.

  “What do you want, Adam?” She breathed close to his cheek. “What do you need?”

  He closed his eyes. The expressions crossing his handsome face made her heart ache for him. “You, Mistress,” he admitted. “I need you.”

  Beth needed him too. “In what way?”

  Tears filled her eyes at the pain that had him turning away from her. No, not pain—torment. That was it. Enough was enough. She couldn’t let it go on. She couldn’t hurt him. She just couldn’t.

  “Garnet.” She would say the word, even if he would not. “I can’t—“

  “No!” His eyes were almost wild.

  “I can’t do this to you, Adam!” She was desperate to release him from his bonds.

  “Beth, please—take it back! Take it back!”

  He was clearly as desperate to keep this going as she was to end it. She searched his face and all she could see was anguish and need. She hated herself for what she was about to say.

  “I take it back.”

  Her head dropped beside his. Plunged into misery, she was barely aware of him resting his cheek against hers.

  “Thank you, Mistress.”

  Beth took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead. Whatever it was, however he wanted her to hurt him, it was something the man she loved needed so much that it drove him to go against everything that he was.

  She didn’t want to ask the question. She was so afraid of what he was going to say but she needed to know, so that that was all she did. Just enough to satisfy his needs. “What do you need, Adam? Tell me exactly what you need.”

  “Please, Mistress, I…I need you to fuck me.”

  Her eyes wet with tears, Beth turned her head away so that he couldn’t see. Things were going from bad to worse. First, pain—now… She couldn’t do that to him but if it was what he needed—what he thought he needed—how could s
he not? She wanted to question his assertion, to make him stop and think, but her instincts were telling her that he’d thought about this more than once and now he needed to turn thought into reality.

  Her fingers still entwined with his, she tightened her grip on his hands, teeth biting down on her lower lip to stop the tears flowing.

  “Please, Mistress…Beth. I need this. It has to be you.”

  He trusts you to do it for him. Don’t let him down.

  She let go of his hands and straightened up. Looking down at him, the entreaty in his eyes, the love she felt for him reminded her that it was a living thing inside her, a part of her that would never leave, no matter what. With great tenderness, she framed his face with her hands and kissed his mouth. “I’ll need you to turn over.”

  Beth adjusted her Master’s bonds so that he could lie facedown, with pillows to make him both comfortable and more accessible. Regardless of the current situation, he was still her Dom in the bedroom and this was something he had asked her to do for him. She was aware of his eyes on her as she removed her clothing.

  “Beth…my beautiful Mistress. You’ll find what you need in the bottom drawer over there.”

  Her hands were shaking as she opened the drawer. There, brand new and still in its packaging, was a strap-on dildo. Beth’s hand tightened around it, hating it, hating that he’d prepared for this and at the same time knowing she had to do it for Adam.

  For Adam.

  Feeling sick, she buckled it in place, her vaginal muscles clenching around the shorter, thicker end that was supposed to be there for her pleasure. A means to an end. She recited the phrase over and over, brainwashing herself into accepting this for what it was.

  A means to an end.

  She slathered the longer, narrower protrusion with lube.

  Adam was lying there so calmly, waiting for her to prepare him. She joined him on the bed—the first thing she was going to do was kiss him. For the sake of her own sanity, she had to believe that she was doing this for love.