Strippers stood in doorways, scantily clad, beckoning men inside.
Yet the only thing that really grabbed Ty’s attention was one of the French Quarter’s many sex shops—lit up and wide open for business.
He wandered inside, drawn instantly—for the first time ever—to the bondage section.
Anger at Mia still burned inside him—it hadn’t even begun to slack off. But his cock burned, too, in a different way. Hungrily. Urgently.
Maybe, he thought as he picked up a package of leather ties, he should teach Mistress Mia a little lesson. Maybe he’d show her exactly how it felt to be used for kinky sex. Maybe Fat Tuesday would turn out to be a wild night yet—when he introduced little miss Mia to real dominance.
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Chapter Seven
Mia flinched when someone pounded on the door. Who on earth…?
Yet, as she ran to answer it, she knew who she’d find on the other side.
What she didn’t expect was to find Ty standing there wearing a simple but sexy little black mask. Despite herself, her pussy went wet. “Ty…” she said uncertainly.
He barreled in without being invited and shut the door, turning the lock behind him. He still wore the same grim expression as before, but his eyes looked different now—they looked furious and…intensely passionate.
She noticed the shopping bag he carried only when he set it down with a thump.
Impatiently, he reached for the hem of her shirt. “Take this off,” he demanded.
“What?” Had she heard him correctly?
“Lift your arms up over your head, damn it,” he bit off, and she did as he said. He stripped off her top in less than two seconds, tossing it across the room. Next, he reached for the button on her shorts, briskly lowering the zipper and shoving them down, so that she stood before him in a lacy coral-colored bra and matching panties.
“Ty, what are you doing?” she asked, breathless.
He stepped up close enough that she could feel his erection pressing into the front of her undies, and spoke low and firm. “I’m giving you a taste of your own medicine, Mistress Mina. I’m gonna find out how you like being used for kinky sex.” She drew in her breath, both frightened and thrilled. She had no idea what Ty might do to her, and she’d definitely never seen him this angry or determined-looking, but she also couldn’t imagine anything he could do to her that wouldn’t excite her right now.
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They stood looking at each other, the air filled with hot tension until he closed both hands hard on her ass and pulled her to him for a rough kiss that left her breathless. She twined her arms around his neck as he moved one hand to her breast for a brutal caress that filled her with more wet pleasure than she could have anticipated.
Still crushing her to him, he yanked one bra strap off her shoulder, baring her nipple, then possessively lifted it to his mouth. He sucked hard, making her whimper at the pleasure-pain of it. Even while it hurt, she’d never felt anything so powerful or intense, and it swept her away in a rush of hot desire. “Mmm, God,” she murmured.
Then his hands were at the back of her bra, deftly unhooking it. “Take it off, all the way. I haven’t seen your breasts without anything on them or around them,” he said in that same commanding voice.
She shrugged free of the bra, then stood beneath his scrutiny, her breasts achy and tingling under his gaze. He cupped them both in his large hands, as if testing the weight, then began to knead them, hot and vigorous. Heated, thready sighs left her until he urgently lowered his mouth to the other breast, suckling hard again. The sensation shot through her like licks of flame. She cried out, grabbing onto him for balance, and he gripped her ass once more, this time lifting her up into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom.
He tossed her on the bed and she lay there, aroused and unsure, waiting until he returned with the bag he’d brought.
The first thing he drew out was a long, black strip of leather. Straddling her in the bed, he pushed her arms up over her head and tied her wrists with it, pulling the leather into a tight knot. Then he attached it to the wrought iron headboard. She remained wildly aware how close his cock was—to her mouth, her breasts—and she wished madly that he were naked. But she dared not say a word.
Backing off of her, he said, “Lift your ass,” then harshly pulled down her panties.
He tossed them aside as he rose from the bed and reached into his bag, extracting…something black, a large swath of leather, but she wasn’t sure what it was 94
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until he said, “Lift,” again, and this time slid it under her. He drew it around her waist and began to lace it by hand. It stretched from her rib cage to her hips and she realized it was a waist-cincher, an item that struck her as somewhat Victorian and completely wicked in terms of bondage—especially when he laced it tight, tight, tight, making her feel utterly imprisoned in the thing before finally finishing.
Next he withdrew a thick, black leather collar from the bag, which he fastened around her neck. Like the waist-cincher, it made her feel pleasantly trapped, forcing sensation on her with each and every move she made.
And then he left. Just left the room—picked up his bag and walked out!
Minutes began to pass and she wondered if he’d departed from the apartment completely and meant to leave her here like this, trussed naked except for a bit of black leather, until she called out for help and someone found her. God, talk about payback.
And on top of that, her pussy wept for him. She could feel the comforter dampening beneath her. She’d been a little frightened and totally unsure what would happen to them once this was over, but from the moment he’d shown up at her door, she’d been aroused and ready for whatever this evening held, for whatever he wanted it to hold. If he wanted to punish her, she figured she deserved it. She’d take whatever he dished out.
Just when she’d seriously begun to worry that maybe he’d left her like this, he tramped back into the room—no longer a lighthearted beach boy, but now clearly a god of all that was dark and dangerous.
She gasped at the sight of him, and her cunt spasmed. Across his chest he wore a black halter-like apparatus constructed of thin leather strips connected by silver rings.
His eyes still shone through his sexy black mask, and now his neck was adorned with the same sort of collar she wore. Thick leather cuffs circled both wrists, and below, he’d donned black leather pants—with no crotch. His big cock stood at full attention between the leather leggings, completely exposed. She was stunned speechless. And so 95
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damn hungry for him. To think this man had wanted to be tied up—when he was clearly born to be a woman’s master.
As he stood looking at her, tied to the bed in her scant leather regalia, she felt a whole new kind of beautiful, and she relished submitting to him. She still feared for tomorrow and the future of their relationship, but for tonight, she was going to soak up every bit of domination he wanted to heap on her.
“Are you ready to be my sex slave, Mia?” he asked sharply.
She nodded, answering with one quiet word. “Yes.” So very ready.
He walked to the bed and straddled her again, but higher up this time, his thighs settling across her shoulders, the black leather of his pants rubbing warm on her skin.
“Then suck my cock, slave,” he demanded, rising on his knees and holding his shaft down to insert it in her mouth. She opened wide, accepting it with ease.
To have him between her lips, sinking deep, near her throat, without having any control over it, was breathtaking. She felt so owned, so wholly possessed—but in this moment she wanted to be owned by him, wanted to be whatever he wanted to make of her. Her pussy fluttered with delight as he slid his hard, lovely cock in and out of her mouth, slow at first, but then slightly harder, deeper, until he was groaning with each stroke between her lips. Her mouth felt so stretched, to a degree that—un
When finally he withdrew the massive shaft, her mouth felt instantly empty, abandoned—but joyfully well-used.
What now? she wondered, thinking, More, I want more of this. I want to be his slave, but not daring to speak.
That angry fire still lit his eyes as he shifted back, still straddling her—until his erection came to lay between her breasts. He reached down and pressed the soft mounds up into his hard cock, beginning to slide back and forth, fucking them. She 96
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moaned at the raw heated delight of having that ultra-hardness enclosed by her sensitive, tender flesh, glad she’d left him so wet that he could glide with slick ease between her breasts. Above, he groaned deeply, watching the connection of their bodies, and she was thrilled to see that even amid his anger, she could still bring him pleasure.
His thrusts turned rough, intense, making her feel it all the more, and love it all the better. Yes, yes, she thought, still not brave enough to utter a word. Fuck my breasts, Ty.
Fuck me every way possible.
Finally, he released her breasts and moved still farther down her naked body, pushing her legs apart and kneeling in between. Her heart threatened to pound right through her chest as she lay bound and watching him study her pussy. Planting his palms on her thighs, he spread them farther, opened her wider. Oh God, she wanted him inside. Please, Ty. Please.
Without warning, he drove two fingers into her cunt, making her sob at the hot, pleasant intrusion. “Your pussy’s wet, slave,” he said, although his voice seemed slightly calmer now than before.
“Because I’m excited. I want you inside me,” she said between heated breaths.
“You’re supposed to be scared,” he said, his tone taking on a rough edge again.
“You’re supposed to worry I might hurt you.” She only shook her head, moaning lightly as he continued thrusting his fingers into her hungry little passageway. “Whatever you do, I deserve. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I never thought about…well, so many things. I never thought about how you’d feel if you found out. I was selfish. Whatever you want from me tonight is okay. I owe it to you. Do anything you want to me, Ty. Anything.” His face looked almost agonized with lust as he stared into her eyes, then dropped his gaze back to her cunt. She bit her lip, knowing it must be glistening for him, knowing his fingers must be drenched.
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“God,” he murmured finally, and in quick succession, he withdrew his fingers, lifted her thighs, and rammed his cock deep inside her.
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 98
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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.
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“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.
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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.”
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