Trey held her in a tight grip. “No, I’m the one who is sorry. I should have trusted you more. I promised to obey and I’m the one who let you down.”
Juliette frowned against his skin before pushing him away. She ignored the startled look on his face and disentangled her body from his. Standing with all the grace of a newly born foal, she rounded on her sub and barked out orders. “On your knees, boy, right here, right now!” She pointed to the floor in front of her and watched her sub push off the bench with a speed and fluidity that had her smiling inwardly. Outwardly she kept her expression stern. When Trey knelt in front of her, hands behind his back, eyes cast down, she laid down the law.
“I’m only going to remind you one more time. When we play together, I’m the one in charge. It’s my responsibility, my privileged to make the decisions for both of us. I let my past with Tom influence how I treated you and that’s what I’m apologizing for. I should never have let that happen, and I promise you it won’t happen again. You needn’t give the matter another thought because it’s not your job to think. You obey, that’s it. And, when I decide it’s time for you to take it up the ass, you will. Are we clear on this?”
A grin popped out on his face and disappeared quickly, but not quick enough that she didn’t see it. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Excellent.” She suppressed her own grin. “Now I’m in the mood to redden that plugged ass of yours. Get up and face the bench, bend down and put your hands flat on it. Don’t you dare let your cock touch anything.”
He was already erect, ready for another round. Maybe she’d give him some relief, maybe not. She had all night to decide, maybe all week. Hell, if she allowed, she could picture spending the rest of her life with this man. But she was getting ahead of herself, again. For now, she thought reaching into the bag and pulling up her favorite flogger, it was time to play.
Epilogue
Trey was a fool, an idiot, an imbecile. Christ, there wasn’t a good enough word in the English language to describe a man who had been stupid enough to resist the sweet mixture of pleasure and pain he felt at that moment. His Mistress, Juliette, thrust into his ass with increasing vigor. She had been so gentle and careful at first, but now he urged her on, pressing back against her thrusts as much as his restraints would allow. His cock jutted out, unrestrained, yearning for release. He could almost come from the pressure on his prostate alone. He closed his eyes and grunting against a ball gag, surrendered to the sensations bombarding his body.
His Mistress dug her nails into his hips, her breath hot and heavy against his neck. She would come soon, he knew her so well. After six months of play, how could he not? How could he not love her? He had said the words right before she had stifled his voice with the gag. She had smiled and repeated them back. Then she had told him she would show him how much she loved him by fucking his ass. Words that would have terrified him such a short time ago, only served to quicken his blood, heighten his arousal, and stretch his cock. He had been ready, finally, and she had known it because she was his Mistress. She had command of his body and his orgasm. God, when would she give him his release?
Her body trembled against his. A keening cry tore from her lips. His voice joined hers as his body longed to do. With a final lunge, she filled his body and reached around to grab his cock in her hot grasp. She squeezed and yanked and ordered.
“Come for me, baby, come with me.”
His body exploded, jerking against the restraints, shoving back against the hardness invading his ass. He was wild, mindless, out of control with the intensity of coming. Yet his Mistress held him close. She let him fall into the abyss sure in the knowledge that she was there for him, keeping him safe. When the last of the tremors died down, he hung limply. He grunted in dismay when she pulled out, leaving him feeling vaguely empty. When she released the gag, he gave her a sloppy grin.
“Can we do that again?”
She rolled her eyes. “In a few days, once I’m sure you’re not too sore.”
“I like being sore.”
She groaned as she released his arms. “You’ve become quite the pain slut.”
“Mmm,” he concurred, pulling her into his weak arms, hugging her close. “And, a pegging slut, if tonight is anything to go by. All thanks to you, Mistress. I’m just sorry we couldn’t do this at Unfettered.”
Helping him stagger out of her spare room, Juliette sighed. “I know what you mean. It would have been poetic to consummate this last act where it all began.” She frowned as they entered her bedroom. “Weird how it closed up so quickly. The building looked as if the club had never been there.”
“Weird,” he agreed. They sat on the edge of her bed, his ass stinging in protest. His cock twitched. Man, would he ever get enough of this woman and what she did to his body? Looking into her beautiful eyes, so full of concern for him, he realized he wouldn’t. He reached up and cupped her chin with his palm, gazed back at her. “It doesn’t matter. You’ve got the beginnings of a fine dungeon right here. Maybe we can do some shopping online this weekend and pick up some more, um, furniture.”
Her face lit up. “That’s a lovely idea.”
He lowered his eyes, afraid he might be going a little too far, yet unable to stop himself. “Maybe you could clear out a dresser drawer and make a little room in your closet, you know so that I can sleep over and go to work directly from here?” He raised his gaze and let out his breath.
Juliette still smiled. “An even better idea.”
“I haven’t overstepped my bounds, have I, Mistress?”
Entwining her arms around his neck, she kissed him sweetly. “You could never do that, and I won’t ever again be worried that you would even try. You are a man made for submission, and I’m the right woman to put you there and keep you there.” She pulled him in for another kiss.
Relieved, relaxed and trusting, Trey once again relinquished control.
About the Author
Samantha Cayto is a Boston-area native who practices as a business lawyer by day while writing erotic romance at night—the steamier the better. She likes to push the envelope when it comes to writing about passion and is delighted other women agree that guy-on-guy sex is the hottest ever.
She lives a typical suburban life with her husband, three kids and four dogs. Her children don’t understand why they can’t read what she writes, but her husband is always willing to lend her a hand—and anything else—when she needs to choreograph a scene.
She is a member of the Romance Writers of America and the New England Chapter and credits RWA, NEC and the wonderful friends she’s made there with helping her become a published author.
Samantha welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Samantha Cayto
Illegal Moves
Locked and Loaded
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