Lock & Key Collection

by Rebel Rose

  I press my face into the bed and bite the comforter, preparing for the third. And I jerk hard when Tristan’s palm lands on my ass. “Uhhh.”

  “Count, bebelle, or we start over.”

  “Three, Master.”

  Oh my God. How many of these am I getting? He didn’t tell me.

  Four. Five. Six. Seven.

  Rouge. Rouge. Rouge. I bite the comforter to keep the word from rolling off of my tongue.

  Ten. I bet that I’m getting ten.

  Hot tears sting my eyes and mucus rushes to my nose. Shit, I don’t think that I can take three more painful swats like these.

  But what if I’m wrong and he intends on giving me more than ten? What if his favorite number is twelve? Or fifteen? Or what if there isn’t a magic number. What if he keeps doing this until I collapse?

  I don’t know what he wants from me.

  My sharp inhalation is unintended, as is the sob that follows, and I press my face into the comforter harder. I concentrate on inhaling and exhaling slowly while he finishes this.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and imagine myself anyplace except here. But it doesn’t help when the next swat lands on my cheek.

  Eight. Nine.

  Ten. It has to be ten. I don’t have it in me to take more.

  “Ten, Master.” A loud sob escapes my lungs.

  “That was the last one, bebelle.”

  My body collapses on the bed, my trembling extremities giving out beneath me. I’m out of breath. My muscles are jelly. The whole thing couldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes, but it feels like I’ve just finished running a long marathon that went on for hours. I don’t have the strength to do anything but lie beneath him like a lush.

  He climbs over me, his front pressed to my back, and kisses the nape of my neck. Chills erupt over my entire body. “Do you think that I’m finished with you?”

  I know better than to think that. I saw the extent of Tristan’s sexual stamina last night. The man can go and go and go.

  “No, Master.”

  “Good. Because I’m not.”

  Even though my ass is on fire, a surge of happiness blazes through me. I want his mouth on me again. I want more of that gifted tongue licking my pussy, and if I have to endure a hard spanking to get it, I’ll choose that trade-off every time. It’s that good.

  His strong hands wrap around my wrists, stretching them outward, and he places my hands on the edge of the mattress. “Hold on to the edge and don’t let go.”

  Don’t worry. I’ll have no choice when that magnificent orgasm hits.

  He uses his knee to push my thighs apart, and his hips settle between my parted thighs, his erection nudging against my vulnerable entrance as he moves up and down as though teasing me. And not in a good way.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Shush, bebelle. You’ll like it. I promise.”

  I twist and look at him with a mixture of fear and anger, abandoning my new role of submissive. “I told you no anal.”

  “And there’ll be no anal… today.”

  There will be none tomorrow or the next day or the next or any day after that.

  His hand moves between my legs and strokes my lips, igniting tingles in my core. “Mmm… who does this tight little pussy belong to?”

  I step back into my role. “You, Master.”

  “Say it.”

  “My tight little pussy belongs to you, Master.”

  “Yes, it does. You’re mine to play with. I can do anything I want to you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Two fingers slip inside me. “Your pussy is so wet. Is that because you’re a dirty little girl who wants to be fucked?”

  His mouth is filthy. I can’t believe that he had the nerve to call my language crass.

  “Yes, Master.”

  He takes his fingers out of me and uses the lubrication on his fingers to make my folds slick. Preparing me. He’s not going to be tame like he was last night—I’m seeing that in the way he’s talking to me.

  And I’m not wrong. He enters me with one powerful thrust, plunging so deep into me that his hard cock hits a bundle of sensitive nerves that can only be located somewhere near my womb. The sudden intrusion is unexpected and sharp. It feels as if he’s trying to split me in half, which prompts a quick gasp from my mouth.

  The animal-like growl I hear behind me is unnerving, and yet my body responds to it, growing wetter and stretching to accommodate his huge cock as it enters me from behind.

  He fucks me brutally. No mercy. And I admit that I scream. Some are elicited by pain, some by pleasure, and the two intertwine until I can’t distinguish between them.

  His body lowers and he lies on top of my back, but not with all of his weight. The brunt of it is on one forearm against the mattress while his free arm comes around my body, his hand wrapping around my throat. His fingers press against the vulnerable vein at the side of my neck, holding my life in his hands. And I feel completely controlled by his iron grip.

  He presses his mouth against my ear, and the pressure on the side of my neck increases. “I’m going to come inside you, and your pussy is going to take every drop. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master.” My voice is a strangled whisper.

  He pounds into me harder, and the friction of the big head of his cock sliding in and out beneath my pelvic arch increases, hitting a sensitive area in the roof of my pussy perfectly. I can’t recall any man ever doing anything to me that feels this way.

  My breath, constricted, comes faster and shallower. The pleasure I feel is climbing at a rapid pace, and I have this incredible desire for more. “Fuck me harder.”

  “Don’t command me,” he growls. “And don’t you dare come until I say that you can.”

  “What do you mean don’t come?” I can’t stop an orgasm from happening if he continues doing what he’s doing.

  “Fight it, bebelle.”

  Fight it? Is he kidding me? I’ve never been able to achieve an orgasm with intercourse, and now that I’m going to he wants to take that away from me. No fucking way. I want this orgasm.

  His hand grips my throat tighter. “I’m your Dom, and I decide if and when you get to come.”

  I tense my pelvic muscles, but that only manages to make it feel better, bringing me closer to orgasm. “I can’t stop it from happening. I don’t know how to control it.”

  He slows his thrusts. “Ride the edge. Don’t give in to it.”

  My entire focus is on the friction I’m feeling inside my pussy and not letting those uterine contractions begin; once the first one begins, it’ll be over. I’ll be at the point of no return. And he’ll be displeased with me.

  I’m relieved when the heavy feeling inside my core lessens, taking with it the urgency to explode. But it hasn’t gone away entirely. “Please let me come. I’m so close.”

  “No. Don’t let it happen until you have my permission.”

  His merciless thrusts return, and so does the climbing pleasure. “It’s building again. I can’t stop it.”

  “Almost there, bebelle. Hold on a little longer.”

  I grip the edge of the mattress and breathe deeply. It’s the only thing that I have total control over right now.

  The pressure on the side of my neck increases when he presses his fingers harder and I feel lightheaded, as though I might black out. “Come for me, bebelle. Now.”

  He pushes into me as far as he can and groans. “I’m coming so hard inside your tight little pussy.”

  The contractions in my pelvis tense and relax around his cock at least a dozen times before dwindling away. It’s over too quickly.

  He’s lying on top of my back, his weight holding down my body. I can’t move, but I don’t think that I could even if he weren’t on top of me.

  He stays inside me until his softening cock slips out. Once we’re no longer joined, he rolls to his back to lie beside me. “Be at ease, bebelle.”

  “Be at ease?”
<
br />   “It means that you can speak freely. You don’t have to formally address me as Master unless I tell you to resume your submissive role.” He rises and leans over my body to kiss my shoulder. “I don’t usually let my submissive orgasm, but I found out last night that your pussy is heaven when you come around my cock. I couldn’t resist; there’s nothing in the world like it.”

  “I didn’t control the orgasm. I just got lucky with the timing.” I might as well tell the truth.

  “Thank you for being honest about that.” His hand rubs my back, and it easily glides over my skin thanks to the sweat he deposited there when he was pressed on top of me. “There’s an art to learning how to edge. I’ll teach you how we can control it together.”

  “To edge?” Edge is a verb?

  “That’s when you build your sexual excitement to the point that you almost come, and then you stop and let it smolder. You deny yourself of an orgasm. After you build and deny several times, your body will explode when you finally do come. The orgasm is incredibly powerful, but it’s time-consuming and takes a ton of patience. And self-restraint. I didn’t have any of those things in me after I saw you on your knees in the submissive position.”

  He moves down my body, kissing along my spine, and slides his hand between my legs. “We have nowhere to be. Turn over and spread your legs. We’ll begin your first lesson in edging.”

  He wants to teach me how to control my orgasm. Postpone it until it becomes explosive.

  I’m okay with that.

  Maybe this submissive thing won’t be so bad after all.

  17

  Tristan Broussard

  Her cunt was so tight and slick. My cock was in heaven when I glided in and out of her. She was drenched because of me, because of the desire between us.

  Mon bebelle enjoyed our first Dom-sub experience. Maybe as much as I enjoyed it.

  Addressing me as Master came with pure ease for her; she was turned on by my dominance. She liked handing over all control to me. And I’m in no way surprised.

  Submission can be learned, but for some it happens naturally. Those are the special ones. And mon bebelle is very special. She is my natural submissive. My counterpart. I’m even more sure of that now than I was the first time I saw her.

  She is the one.

  Mine.

  My little submissive wanted my cum. Her greedy pussy clenched and relaxed around my cock over and over, milking every drop from my balls until I had no more to give.

  She told me to fuck her harder. A command. It was gratifying but displeasing at the same time. Definitely worthy of another five swats across her ass, but I resisted the urge. Two spankings in such a short time span would probably overwhelm her. And I choose to overwhelm her in a much different way.

  I’ve played with her pussy all morning. Rubbed her. Fingered her. Licked her. I’ve brought her to the edge of orgasm many times and then kept her climax at bay. Training her. “Should I let you come this time?”

  “Yesss. Pleeease.”

  She squeezes her eyes shut when my fingers press harder on the walnut-shaped bundle of nerves inside her pussy. Her breath moves in and out through pursed lips. Desperate to come. All of the signs are there, but she’s fighting it to please me.

  “Look at me, bebelle. Eyes on me.”

  Eye contact. It’s not something that I’ve demanded from my other submissives. In fact, I didn’t want to look at their faces during sex at all, but Emma Lia isn’t one of my trained subs. Everything about this relationship is going to be different.

  She opens her lids, and our eyes connect. Her parted lips and tense facial muscles are a clear indication of the struggle she’s experiencing.

  “Come for me, bebelle.” I move my fingers faster and the wet friction sound grows louder. “I want to feel your pussy quiver.”

  Her hand comes up and her fingers push into the back of my hair. She pulls my head to hers, and our foreheads are pressed together. Her grip is ironclad. It wouldn’t be an easy escape if I tried to get away.

  Her pursed lips open and form an O. “Oh… ohhh… ahhh.”

  I cover my mouth with hers, devouring her screams, and her entire body is trembling. She nips my bottom lip, and I immediately taste copper. Any other Dom would be furious and probably flog her ass until it welted, but I don’t mind her bite. I’m sort of sick that way.

  Her body begins to relax as the orgasm spirals down from its peak. She releases my mouth, and her breathing slows. My pride swells because I know what kind of breakthrough I’ve just made with her.

  She’s still holding the back of my head, and we’re simply looking at each other. No expression. No words. Just eyes on eyes. And there’s something truly penetrating about the way she’s looking at me.

  I remove my fingers and bring them to my mouth, sucking them clean while she watches.

  She smiles, breaking our staring contest, and her body becomes toneless when her limbs fall to the bed. “I have never experienced anything like that in my life.”

  “You liked it?”

  “One word can’t describe that. It was agonizing… and astonishing… and amaaazing.”

  “I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that edging takes a lot of work and patience when it’s done well.”

  “It was done very well. My body is exhausted. I need a nap.”

  I look at the clock beside Emma Lia’s bed. “Take a nap if you like. I’ll wake you in a couple of hours, and we’ll go out for a late lunch.”

  “You didn’t sleep last night. I know that you must be tired. Stay and nap with me.”

  I’m exhausted. Staying in bed with her is tempting as fuck, but this is day one of our Dom-sub relationship. I don’t want to send mixed messages to Emma Lia and cause confusion right off the bat.

  “Don’t have time to nap. I have calls to make since I’m not going in to work today.”

  “I made you come.”

  “You certainly did.”

  “I’m owed a key pull.”

  As if she needs to remind me. “You are. Would you like to get up and do it now or after you’ve napped?”

  “Hmm… I’m so tired. I don’t think that I can get up and do it right now.”

  I’m elated that she isn’t jumping out of bed and racing to the box. I’m even more hopeful that I’ll be able to keep her long enough to mold her into what I want, and then she’ll choose to stay of her own accord.

  I lightly smack the fleshy part of her hip. “Rest, bebelle. I’ll come back in a couple of hours.”

  I allowed Emma Lia to sleep longer than two hours. I could say that I got caught up with calls for work and time got away from me, but that would be a lie. I went into her room a little after noon with the intention of waking her, but I couldn’t do it when I noticed how angelic she looked.

  Dark hair splayed on the pillow beneath her head. Ivory skin against the white sheets. One of her rosy nipples peeking out from beneath the sheet covering her body. I just wanted to enjoy looking at her sleeping figure for a little while… just in case she happened to be the luckiest person in the world and pulled the right key on her first try.

  One minute of standing over her turned into an hour of my sitting in the chair in the corner of the room watching her. And I’ve postponed her pulling a key for long enough.

  I place my hand against her upper arm and glide it up and down her silky, smooth skin. “Bebelle.”

  She stirs lightly, her baby blues peeking through narrow slits. And then those slightly parted lips widen, turning up on the outer edges, and a pair of dimples make an appearance. I can’t remember ever being the one to bring that kind of smile to a woman’s face. “Hey, you.”

  Hey, you. I’ve also never had a submissive that would say anything so casual, even when I allowed her to be at ease. The conversations I’ve shared with them have been stiff and formal. But I find that I don’t mind the relaxed nature I have with Emma Lia outside of a scene, even when we’re in the bedroom.

  “Do you feel
rested?”

  “I do.” She twists and stretches to see the clock. “And I should. It’s a quarter after one. Why didn’t you wake me already?”

  “I hated to; you were sleeping so soundly.”

  “Does sleeping soundly mean that I was snoring again?”

  “Just a little heavy breathing.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  She pulls the sheet up to cover her exposed nipple when she notices my staring. “I need to shower if we’re going out.”

  “You’ve already showered.”

  “True, but I smell like sex now.”

  “I happen to like the way you smell after I’ve fucked you.” The mixture of our body fluids is a divine scent.

  “You like it when I smell funky?”

  “You don’t smell funky. You smell well fucked, and I like it. I also take pleasure in knowing that you’re walking around with my cum still inside you. No shower.”

  “You’re awfully bossy for a man who might not even be my Dom anymore after I pull that key.”

  Now that just pisses me off. “I am your Dom.”

  She shakes her head. “Not if I pull that key… which you owe me right now.”

  I don’t allow people to hang shit over my head or to taunt me with anything, and I’m damn sure not going to let her.

  I grab the sheet and yank it from her body. She’s still naked, and I would consider taking advantage of that again if she hadn’t just pissed me off so badly. “Get your ass up. Now.”

  She looks at me with wide eyes and then rises to a sitting position, sliding to the edge of the bed. “Give me a second to grab my robe.”

  I grip her wrist and lead her toward the door. “No robe, sweetheart. We’re getting this shit done and out of the way right now.”

  She jerks her wrist free of my hold and stops in the hallway. “You owe me that key. Why are you acting like an asshole about it?”

  “I’m not acting. I am an asshole.”

  She follows me to my office and watches as I unlock the cabinet. I remove the box of keys and slam it on my desk. “Rules. You can feel of the keys for as long as you like, but you can’t look at them. Once you pull a key, it won’t go back into the draw box. Understood?”

  “Understood.”

  She reaches into the box and moves her fingers around, digging for longer than I like. Makes me get worked up when I see the concentration on her face; this woman is a cheat with magic fingers. I worry that she’s outsmarted me and come up with some kind of tactic for finding the right key. And that it will work.