She cried out at the blow—hard and filling and all-consuming, and somehow, even then, she wanted more of him. His shaft was enormous inside her, yet she still managed to yearn for more. She wanted to hurt for him, to somehow atone for what she’d done. She truly wanted to be his sex slave in every way.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Mia,” he bit off, his voice gritty, gone back to pure, unadulterated heat now, and she thought, this is how it should be. This—it turned out—was her perfect fantasy coming to life. Ty calling her by name, promising her an incredible fuck that would leave them both well-pleasured and spent.
He pummeled her with his huge cock, driving, driving, deep inside her, so that she felt his thrusts everywhere—pulsing through her arms and legs, her breasts, even her head. The leather at her waist and neck created a hot friction with each rough jolt of his pounding shaft, and his leggings rubbed at the backs of her thighs. They both cried out at each mind-numbing thrust.
Her breasts bounced and he closed his hands greedily around them, kneading, massaging. She pulled involuntarily at the leather binding her wrists, frustrated at not being able to touch him. He released her breasts, yet closed his forefingers and thumbs around her nipples, pinching them tight and pulling, drawing them upward—making her grit her teeth at more pleasure-pain—until he let them go and she released a screech.
She writhed in his grasp then, overcome with pleasure and pain and frustration and heat, taking each stroke of his cock deep within her being, feeling wild and crazed inside, his new grip on her breasts turning needy and rough. She suddenly knew that he wanted her to struggle, and so she did, thrashing about as he filled her, absorbing more kinds of friction and hot delight than she could easily comprehend, and she sensed it making them both even more reckless and untamed. His heated cries turned to harsh growls, hers to groans drawn up from deep in her gut. “Oh, fuck me,” she begged through clenched teeth. “Fuck me. Fuck me.”
It was all so good. The binding, the battle, his hands, his cock. His face, above her. Even soaked in his anger, she loved it because…well, maybe she was angry, too! Angry that she’d wanted him for so long without having him until now. That’s why she struggled at her bindings for him, even as she wrapped her legs around his back. There was anger and frustration and a deep, forbidden sort of passion all lurking inside her and needing to get out—now—in his arms.
“Come in me, Ty! Come in me. I want to make you come so bad, so hard,” she sobbed.
But then, clenching his teeth and looking agonized to the depths of his soul, he pulled his cock out and dropped her ass to the bed.
She felt abandoned. “What are you doing?” she practically shrieked.
“You can’t fucking tell me when to come!” he boomed. “You’re not in charge this time, Mia! This time it’s all about me, punishing you!”
She had a feeling they’d both forgotten that for a few intense minutes, but now they remembered. Her body heaved with frustration where she lay stretched out on the bed.
“And we’re not done here,” he added in a low voice, his eyes shining hotly on her. “We’re not even close to being done.”
“What now?” she asked, suddenly reminding herself of him when their positions had been reversed, always wondering what came next.
In response, he reached up over her, his slick erection dangling down to touch one breast as he untied her from the bed—but he didn’t untie her hands from each other.
“Now, I’m going to spank you. Hard!”
She tensed in a combination of fear and anticipation as he maneuvered her body, face down, over his lap, on the edge of the bed, and leaned down near her ear. “Tell me you’ve been a bad little girl,” he said, no hint of playfulness coloring his voice.
“I have. I’ve been a very bad girl.” She meant it. She believed it.
“Beg me to punish you for it.”
She drew in her breath. “Punish me. Yes. I deserve it. Spank me.”
The first slap of his hand across her ass landed with a sting that echoed all through her. Mmm, God—still more of that strange pleasure-pain. She wanted it, and when the flat of his hand struck her again, she cried out—in joy, because it hurt. Because she felt it everywhere. More, she thought, not daring to speak now. I want more.
He spanked her in a smooth, hard, even rhythm, each strike flaring through her with power and heat. The spanking radiated through every limb, each slap of his palm coming before the vibrations from the last had faded. She cried out—all pleasure now, even as her ass stung and grew sore, so very sore. But it was a good kind of sore, the same lovely kind of sore she’d first experienced when he’d whipped her the other night. Only this was more intense than that. This was not a playful game—this was a strong, forceful man dominating her, and she was joyfully lost in the power of that domination.
And then…something new! What was he doing now? Even as he spanked her, even as she cried out, she swung to look over her shoulder and saw—oh God!—he was…he was putting something inside her ass—a string with little balls placed every couple of inches. Anal beads—she recalled seeing them at the sex shop when she’d bought her rope and riding crop. He was inserting them, one by one, sending tiny explosions of pleasure through her nether regions with each added ball. She gaped, trying to watch even as she drank in his blows, her ass red now from his perfect spanking.
By the time he was done with the beads, she could no longer discern what was happening to her body. She lay writhing, whimpering across him, lost in the tumult of sensation. It was almost more than she could take, pushing her to the edge of sanity.
And then he was bending over her, whispering, “Now fuck me, Mia. Fuck me. Ride me.”
She gazed over her shoulder, up into his eyes this time.
He peered heatedly at her and said it again. “Ride me…lover.” As she’d called him in her role as Mistress Mina.
Slowly, she rose to her knees next to him. He reached for her thigh, prodding her to straddle his hips. She glanced down between them at his tremendous, straining cock. She’d never wanted anything more than she wanted this man back inside her right now. She didn’t know if he was still angry or not—she had no idea how he might feel about her now—she only knew she needed him inside her body. Because she loved him. She loved him deeply.
She sank slowly down on his erection, pleased at how enormous he felt filling her. “So big,” she breathed, her eyes falling shut, head dropping back with the ecstasy of his size combined with the beads that seemed to ripple gloriously about inside her ass.
A soft kiss brushed her neck. “Do you like my cock, Mia?” he whispered.
She lowered her head and opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. “Oh, God, yes.”
She saw his lips move more than she actually heard his nearly inaudible request. “Fuck me.”
She leaned deeper into him, beginning to move in the most ancient rhythm, her instincts instantly taking over. They both moaned as she undulated against him. Her bound arms circled his neck, his hands splayed wide on her ass. She fucked him slowly, their foreheads touching. Her breasts raked against his chest, the leather that crisscrossed it abrading her nipples lightly.
But soon she was driven to move faster, to fuck deeper, her clit brushing against him, her pussy beginning to reach for release. The beads inside her anus jiggled and rubbed in response to her movements, heightening every sensation. He kissed her hard, deep, as they moved, and she pushed her tongue into his mouth, hungering for still more of him. His hands roamed her shoulders, her back, one sliding around to caress her breast, raking his thumb across the sensitive peak.
But then his hands both returned to her ass and she rode him in hot circles that brought her closer and closer to ecstasy, making the desire churn and rise. He lifted to suckle at her breast, and she sobbed lightly, murmuring, “Yes, suck me. So good, so good,” as she held his head there, watched him tugging on her nipple with his eager mouth.
And then—ahhh!—he pulled the string and
one of the beads left her in a hot little blip of pleasure that made her moan.
Her breath went ragged as she rode him harder, as he suckled her, and he drew another bead out, pushing her still closer to the edge.
He began pulling the beads faster, in a slow rhythm that matched the hot circles in which she writhed, and she was lost, so lost in him and in the pleasure, that there was no thought, only feeling, stretching through her like an electrical line giving off immeasurable heat and energy.
“So close,” she whispered in his ear, still moving, grinding her body against his—and then he extracted the last bead and she fell off the edge, the climax pulling her deep within herself, burying her in hot pulses of delight that echoed through her, coming out in low groans wrenched deep from her gut. And also in words. “I love you. God, I love you,” she murmured up into the air without thought.
“Damn, I’m coming, too,” he breathed upon releasing her breast from his mouth and as before, when he came, he lifted her body from the bed with his orgasmic thrusts, making her feel exactly what she wanted to feel—overpowered by him, possessed by him.
They both fell back on the bed in a heap and lay that way, silent, for a long moment.
When Mia finally opened her eyes, he was looking at her. He shifted his gaze to her hands, and reached to undo the leather strip, setting her free. Her first move was to slip the sexy black mask from his head—completely understanding now his previous need to see her face. She wanted nothing more in this moment than to see his.
Although she didn’t know what to say, what to expect from him now. She only knew she’d just had the most phenomenal sex of her life, and it had been reckless and scary and infinitely exciting, and it had been with Ty, the man she loved.
“I’ve been a fucking idiot,” he said, gazing at her.
“Huh?”
He shook his head against the comforter, then ran one hand through his hair. “I don’t know what I was so mad about.”
“Because I lied to you,” she reminded him, thinking it made perfect sense. “I tricked you.”
“But you were right when you said I never would have given us a chance otherwise. I just…never thought of you this way.”
“I know. And there were times when I tried to hint to you that maybe I wasn’t the girl you thought I was…” She stopped, confused by her own words. “But the thing is, Ty, I am that girl you thought I was. I’m a nice person and a dependable, capable worker, and I’m Tim’s little sister. And I’m this person, too.” She looked away, toward the ceiling. It was stupid to bother being embarrassed now, but… “This person who loves to fuck and play sex games and sometimes be really, really dirty.” She sighed. “Only…”
“Only what?”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him this, but at this point—what the hell. “Only I’ve never gotten nearly so dirty with anyone as I have with you.”
She felt his eyes on her and dared to lower her gaze and meet them. “Because of what you said?” he asked. “When you were coming just now?”
She took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“That was real? You love me?”
God, was he still trying to torture her? “Yes. Yes, it was real. I’m in love with you, okay?” She turned her head away instantly, unable to believe she’d just blurted that out.
“Like I said, I’ve been an idiot. Please look at me.”
She didn’t, couldn’t. He reached over, pressing his warm palm to her cheek, turning her face toward his.
“I didn’t think a girl could be as sweet and nice as you are and also be into hot sex.”
She blinked. “Why?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. If you don’t count Jack’s wife, I’ve never met any hot, sexy girls who seemed all that nice. And vice versa. Just my dumb luck, I guess. And I just didn’t think the two things could reside in the same woman.”
“Surprise,” she whispered.
“You can say that again.”
They lay silent for a moment, until he leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. He didn’t pull back afterward, so their faces lay only a couple of inches apart. His eyes looked enormous and deep and beautiful. “Did you know,” he said softly, “that I fell in love with Mistress Mina?”
The words left her dumbfounded. “Uh, no.”
“I did. And I couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand how I could fall for a stranger in a mask who I didn’t even know, whose face I couldn’t even see. But now, I get it. It makes sense. Because things were so…right with her. With you. Because you’re you, and you and I have always just…clicked.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “I guess we have.” From the beginning. From those very first easy, playful flirtations nearly twenty years earlier.
“So it’s not Mistress Mina I’m in love with anymore, Mia. It’s you.”
Mia sucked in her breath. “God.” She dropped her gaze away, then lifted it again, not quite able to believe. “Really?”
He nodded. “Deeply.”
Her heart felt like it would burst up through her chest at any moment, like it was physically…growing.
“And I’m so fucking sorry about tonight—about how mad I got, about…well, if I forced you to do anything you didn’t want to just now…”
She hated the remorse in his expression and shook her head vigorously. “No, baby, you didn’t. I promise. Because there’s nothing I wouldn’t want to do with you. I love you.”
Ty took her face between his hands and lowered a long, deep kiss to her waiting mouth. It swirled down through her, more powerful than any sex with any man she’d ever had. She could still scarcely believe it. He loved her. He really loved her. After so many years, it seemed too good to be true, but she could tell now, looking into his eyes, that it was real. She’d never seen this expression on his face before—but it was undeniably love that poured from his gaze.
“God, this is so good,” she said as the elation traveled through her. She suddenly couldn’t stop smiling. “So incredible.”
He returned the smile she’d been pining for all these years, only now it unexpectedly felt as if his smile belonged to her. “Just one thing I gotta know,” he said, his voice taking on a familiar teasing quality.
“What’s that?”
“Do you really dig guys with tattoos?”
She shrugged, feeling slightly guilty, then gave him a sweet grin. “Afraid so, but don’t worry, I’ll keep you anyway.”
He gave his head a playful tilt. “Who knows. Be a good girl and maybe you can talk me into getting one,” he finished with a wink.
“Mmm,” she said, liking the sound of that. “Just think of how excited you’d get me then.”
“Mistress Mina rides again?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.
“Perhaps, if you’d like. Ride being the operative word, of course.”
They shared a bit of laughter and an easy kiss, and he said, “So where did you come up with the name Mina anyway?”
She made a resistant face, but admitted the truth. “Okay, you may as well know. My real name is Wilhelmina.”
“Really?” He grinned. “I’ll have to call you that from now on.”
“Don’t you dare. I much prefer ‘sweet thing’.”
“But you’re not exactly sweet anymore, are you?” He leaned closer to her and whispered, “Maybe I’ll call you ‘sexy thing’, or ‘naughty thing’.”
She offered a light smile. “Those are kind of fun, but…well, the truth is—I’ve always cherished the way you call me ‘sweet thing’. I wait for it every single morning. It always makes my pussy tingle.”
She watched the heat re-invade his gaze. “Okay. Want to fuck me, sweet thing?”
Rolling into his arms, she pressed her breasts against his chest, pulling him into another deep, hot kiss. “I think that can be arranged. But…” On impulse, she slipped his black mask over her head, peering out at him through it. “For right now, you can call me Mistress Mina.”
Abo
ut the author:
Lacey Alexander is the pseudonym of an award-winning author whose romance novels have been published by Harlequin and Kensington. Additionally, over forty of her short stories and articles have seen publication. Lacey lives in Kentucky with her husband of fifteen years and she loves being a full-time writer. When not creating romance and romantica, she enjoys crafts, American history, and travel, and she particularly likes incorporating her favorite destinations into her work. She is an active member of Romance Writers of America and Novelists, Inc.
Lacey Alexander welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1337 Commerce Drive, #13, Stow, Ohio 44224.
Also by Lacey Alexander:
Hot In the City: French Quarter
Hot In the City: Key West
Hot In the City: Sin City
Hot For Santa!
Hidden Desires
Elizabeth Lapthorne
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey and Phish Food: Ben & Jerry's Homemade Holdings, Inc.
M&M’s (peanut and chocolate variety): Mars, Incorporated
Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups: Hershey Chocolate & Confectionery Corp.
Chapter One
Ah yes. My favorite time of all the year. The Mardi Gras. Fat Tuesday. The carnival to end them all. What self-respecting mask doesn’t just live to enjoy the biggest bash, the grandest carnival of them all?
I shudder to think just how many of these I have seen over the years. In fact, if I cast my mind back far enough, I can recall the very first one of all. All those delicious Femmes Françoise, the dapper young men so eager to eat, drink and be extremely merry. It is so much fun being able to see the true person underneath all the exterior maskings when I am worn—and even better is when I am worn by a truly intriguing woman and can set her up with her soul partner. Yes, those are definitely the best of times.
Anthology - Behind the Mask Page 24