“How close are you to an orgasm?”
She tried to shake her head, but the way she was positioned made it all but impossible. “I’m not thinking about coming,” she said.
He bent behind her and licked her pussy, drawing her tortured clit into his mouth.
She tried to hold on to the horse. “Please? Please, please, please?” She rocked her hips, forgetting everything and reaching for the needed release.
He inserted two fingers into her cunt and slid them back and forth.
“You may come,” he told her.
“I…” She was shameless. She all but humped his hand as he licked her, sucked her. Her buttocks burned from her beating. Her entire body felt as if it were on fire. “I’m going to come, Sir!”
He sucked her clit a little harder, then bit gently.
The tiny shock of pain was all it took. She screamed out her orgasm, her body convulsing around his fingers.
She came hard, crying out again as the wave continued.
He released the tiny nib of her clitoris but kept his fingers in place.
“I like the way you climax,” he said. “No pretensions, just a hard, fast, honest orgasm.”
“Thank you, Sir, for the orgasm.”
“I was hoping you’d remember your manners, little one.”
She was grateful for the solid support of the horse beneath her.
Shelby wasn’t sure how long it took her to recover, and she realized she wanted more, wanted him. “I want you inside me, Sir,” she said quietly. “Your cock.”
“That’s my decision.”
“Yes, Sir.” She was just trying to help it along. Her whole body was aroused, from her spanked ass to her nipples. She just wanted more. She arched her back as much as possible given the restraints, in silent invitation.
“You’re wanting another beating?”
“If Sir decides it’s necessary.”
He laughed. “Sometimes I think how innocent you seem. Then you shatter the illusion.”
He withdrew his fingers from inside her, and he didn’t immediately untie her, so she held out hope that he still intended to take her. Then she heard movement. She strained her head to see what he was doing.
“Clean my fingers,” he said, crouching next to her. He held his hand in front of her face.
She sucked his fingers into her mouth and licked her juices from them. The act was unfamiliar and strangely erotic. With the way his jeans strained around his erection, her suckling was working for him too.
He dug his left hand into her hair while she suckled. “You did well,” he told her. “Better than I might have hoped. And the way you came, so quickly, like a little pain slut who got off on her punishment. Couldn’t have taken you thirty seconds.”
She’d admitted to being a bit of a masochist, but the speed at which she orgasmed surprised even her.
“You’re hot, sub. And I’m looking forward to having you suck other things.”
She was grateful she was unable to answer. Giving oral sex wasn’t her favorite thing. It wasn’t on her “no” list. But it definitely wasn’t on her “let’s do it all the time” list.
He slowly drew away his fingers.
She gave a quick, last suck.
Her stomach clenched as she saw him tug off a battered cowboy boot. It landed on the floor with a solid, satisfying thunk. It seemed to take him forever to undress.
He moved so that he was in her view as he opened a condom and placed it on his overwhelmingly big erection.
She had a moment of doubt that she’d be able to accommodate him, but as he fingered her pussy and tweaked her nipples, she forgot how to form rational thought.
He put his hands on her hipbones and held her steady as he entered her. He slowly eased forward until he was all the way in.
She closed her eyes, and she tried to breathe as he moved, but the sensation of being taken by someone so big, so powerful, so masterful overwhelmed her.
He rode her hard, keeping her steady and then placing a hand beneath her so that he could tease her clit.
She moved as much as she could, thrashing against the horse as he penetrated her again and again.
Shelby had never been taken so forcefully before. By giving up some control, she was getting exactly what she’d craved. This man, now.
“Come,” he told her quietly.
His permission was all it took to send her over the edge.
Her body bucked as she rode the orgasm, made more powerful by his masculine thrusts.
She felt him inside her, and her vaginal walls gripped him tight. He went rigid; then his orgasm pulsed deep within her.
The way he held her, filled her, triggered another powerful climax. He dug his fingertips into her hips, and she screamed.
“I see our sub is in good hands.”
Oh God. She recognized Master Xavier’s voice. While Master Trevor had been making her come, Master Xavier had been there watching?
She wanted to wiggle away, to run away, to hide. If it were possible to die from embarrassment, she would. She was tied to a punishment horse, almost naked, her ass sticking in the air, with Master Trevor’s still-throbbing cock deep inside her damp pussy while the two doms carried on a conversation as if it were an everyday occurrence while she was losing her dignity.
She was glad, though, that her head was turned to the side and her hair was spilling across her face so that she couldn’t see Master Xavier.
Master Trevor rubbed her right thigh, as if he read her mind.
“I think it’s safe to say she survived her punishment,” her dom said.
“Destiny asked me to check in. She heard the sub’s screams and was concerned.”
“Good to know she is keeping her eye on things,” Master Trevor said. “But I’ve never misused a submissive. I don’t intend to start now.”
She didn’t hear any anger or defensiveness in the regulated tones of Master Trevor’s voice.
Her respect for him increased. He didn’t mind the club’s personnel watching or checking up on him. It meant he had nothing to hide.
“Despite her vocal capacity, Shelby doesn’t seem to be suffering overly much,” Master Xavier observed.
She suddenly wanted the floor to swallow her. If she could have hidden, she would have.
“She is a noisy one, My Liege,” Master Trevor agreed.
Was it possible to be more embarrassed? But it seemed she didn’t need to be. To the men, the doms, this seemed like a normal conversation.
She kept her mouth shut. Truthfully she wasn’t sure she could speak around the knot of humiliation about the way she was behaving.
For once, she was grateful the men were talking about her as if she were not there.
“You may want to use a gag next time, Master Trevor.”
She wanted to vanish in a small hole.
“I’ll consider it,” Master Trevor said.
“You’ll have her back in a week?” Master Xavier asked.
“Indeed.”
“Feel free to take a gag with you.”
She hadn’t heard the door open, but she heard it close quietly behind the club’s owner.
“You handled that very well,” Master Trevor told her. He pulled out of her and disposed of the condom before returning to her. “I’m going to unfasten your restraints, and I want you to move slowly until you’re sure your circulation is restored.”
He released her right wrist and massaged the area with his hand. His touch was gentle and sweet where earlier he’d been firm. The contrast in his personality intrigued her, and, oddly, made her want to please him.
“Now move your arm,” he told her.
She shrugged her right shoulder and slowly let her arm dangle.
Then he unfastened her right ankle. “Again, slow movements. A small stretch,” he said.
She did as he said while he moved around to her other side to free her left wrist. He rubbed her skin gently again. Within a minute, she was freed from her bondage. He
was a considerate dom. David had never taken this kind of care with her.
“Stay there,” he said.
He crossed the room and grabbed a small tube. “Arnica,” he said, squirting a dollop onto his hand. He rubbed the salve into the areas where his belt had landed.
His touch, as much as the arnica, soothed her.
“I hope you don’t behave too well.”
She was pretty sure she wouldn’t. For all her protesting, the beating had fulfilled something inside her that had, until now, been unacknowledged.
He wiped his hands, then came over to help her from the horse. He held on to her while she regained her equilibrium.
“You really are lovely, Shelby,” he told her, smoothing a palm over her hair.
She was tempted to lean into him, but she reminded herself he was her dom, not her lover.
He moved across to the wall and grabbed her vest. He pocketed her bra, saying, “You won’t be needing this.”
She put on the vest and bolo. He stood in front of her and tightened the bolo as if it were a choker; then he gave a quick, approving nod.
This experience was totally new. After a scene, she and David went back to being friends. If she’d been dressed in a slutty way, he gave her street clothes, and they went out for a drink or a bite to eat.
Clearly, Master Trevor had no interest in that. She wondered how she’d survive the coming week.
“You have a coat?”
“At the front, yes.”
He led the way to the front desk. She wondered how red her exposed rear looked after her beating. She kept her hands at her sides and forced herself to focus on following Master Trevor rather than on her humiliated rear end.
At the front desk, Destiny raised a brow in Master Trevor’s direction.
“We’ll take Ms. Salazar’s coat.”
“Number seventy-three,” Shelby said.
“If you need anything, call me,” Destiny told Shelby.
“She’ll be fine,” Master Trevor said, intercepting the business card the other woman was offering.
“Master Trevor!”
“I’ll put it in the pocket of her coat.” His tone changed from friendly to uncompromising. “Kindly fetch it for us.”
Destiny rested her hands on her hips for a few moments.
“Unless you’d like a spanking, Destiny?”
If a woman could flounce, Destiny did. She abruptly turned and gave a scantily clad girl instructions on where to find the garment. Shelby hid her smile.
After Destiny handed over the coat, he turned his back to the woman.
With old-world manners that made Shelby feel cared for, he held the coat.
As she slid into the garment, he said, “Fasten the belt only. Leave the buttons undone.”
She opened her mouth to protest but then shut it again. There was no sense starting an argument she couldn’t win. “Yes, Sir.”
He collected his own coat, a beyond-sexy duster to match his Western outfit. With a cowboy hat, he looked every inch the outlaw.
As promised, he put Destiny’s card in Shelby’s pocket.
An outlaw who kept his promises.
He draped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. She could get accustomed to being treated with such kindness.
He kept a protective arm around her shoulder as he drew her outside and flagged down a taxi.
He helped her into the taxi, then slid in next to her.
Master Trevor gave the driver an address she didn’t recognize. “What about my things?” she asked.
“You won’t be needing much.”
She started to protest, but he held up a hand.
“I’ll send someone to collect your belongings tomorrow.”
“But—”
“Protest, Shelby, and you’ll sleep on the floor at the end of my bed.”
She snapped her mouth shut, and she was aware of the taxi driver watching them in the rearview mirror. She felt slightly embarrassed, but the fact he was uncompromising with her provided a small amount of comfort. She could rely on him, knew what to expect. And if he said she’d be sleeping on the floor, he damn well meant it.
Choosing intelligence rather than valor, she said, “I understand, Sir.”
“Good girl.” Like he had earlier, he draped an arm around her and drew her a little closer.
She snuggled against his warmth and strength, suddenly glad she’d capitulated. Being held by him was far more pleasant than being punished.
“How does your ass feel?” he asked against her ear.
It had felt better before he reminded her of the beating. She shifted a little. “Sore.”
“And your muscles? Cramped at all?”
“A little,” she admitted.
He nodded. “You can stretch out in the shower.”
Within twenty minutes, they arrived at his Delancey Street loft. The building was historic, imposing, commanding, much like the man himself.
When they arrived at his unit, he keyed them in. The elegance of the place stunned her. She expected something rugged. Instead, he’d surprised her with simple sophistication. He’d chosen leather furniture in clean, classic lines. The loft had distressed wood floors, hammered granite countertops, and soaring arched windows. There was a floating, carved wood staircase leading to the second floor. The beauty of the place felt at odds with the plainspoken, jeans-wearing, Marlboro-type man helping to take off her coat.
He hung up her coat and then said, “Strip.”
She blinked at the unexpected demand. “I beg your pardon?”
“Strip,” he repeated, shrugging out of his duster. “Or I’ll cut your clothes off you.”
Chapter Four
The ground seemed to shift beneath her. Not for the first time, she wondered what the hell she’d gotten herself into. She knew, without doubt, he was serious. He wasn’t a part-time, when-it-was-convenient-and-if-she-wanted-it dom. He was a 24-7 dominant who expected the same from the woman he’d won for a week.
“Leave the bolo in place until I get you a collar.”
A collar? Surely he was joking. Surely. But his gaze betrayed nothing.
Her hands shook as she removed her vest. He held out a hand to accept it from her. He hung it near her coat.
Next she toed off her boots and bent to remove her ankle socks.
He folded his arms over his chest and watched as she unfastened the chaps and shimmied out of the leather. She picked up the chaps, and he hung them alongside her other clothing.
He glanced meaningfully at the floor, and she knelt. She spread her legs as he’d instructed, feeling more exposed at his home than she had at the club. Here it was just the two of them. No one to save her, nowhere to run.
She wasn’t sure whether to be terrified or thrilled.
“I promised you a shower,” he said. “Unless you need something to eat first?”
“I’m fine.” If her stomach weren’t in knots, she’d accept the offer if only to stall for time.
“Crawl up the stairs to the master bedroom,” he instructed.
Looking up at him, she blinked.
“Do I need to repeat myself?”
“No, Sir.” She was more than a little afraid of what the punishment would be if he had to repeat himself. She was learning, quickly, that this man would not compromise. She spent her entire working life negotiating deals and settlements. What she wanted—a bath and the opportunity to relax, alone in a luxurious hotel suite that she’d paid a month’s salary for—didn’t factor into his plans. It rankled. But in a way, it turned her on.
“Upstairs,” he said. “Now.”
Hyperaware of her role as a submissive—his submissive—she crawled. He followed her up the stairs, and she knew exactly how she looked with her pussy exposed as she moved up each stair.
Then, deciding to be a bit of a tease, she played it up. She swayed her hips exaggeratedly and took her time before crawling to the next stair.
“That’ll get you fucked hard, li
ttle sub.”
She wanted exactly that, she realized. The orgasm at the club was incredible. But she had a craving for him. She wanted to be fucked—hard—by him.
“I like how red your ass is,” he said. “You look as if you’ve been punished hard by your dom.”
She had been. She’d taken more punishment than she ever had in her life, and she wore the stripes as if they were a badge of honor.
His master bedroom was spacious, and a king-size bed dominated the space. Other than a couple of small accent tables, the room was empty. Three walls were brick. Each held a large, framed print, all black-and-white. The southeast side of the room was dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows. He took his time closing the blinds, seeming unconcerned that she was kneeling, naked, in the middle of the floor.
He went into the closet, and when he returned, he was naked.
At Dark Haven, she hadn’t really had the opportunity to see him this completely. He was well muscled, not an ounce of fat. And his erection was overwhelming. His cock was thick as well as long. Having him inside her sexually was one thing, but in her mouth…? She prayed he’d honor her “I don’t wanna have to suck all of that” list.
But as he moved toward her, she knew she’d have no choice.
“Sir, I…”
“Sucking my cock is on your ‘no’ list?” He asked the question matter-of-factly, as if her answer didn’t matter.
Truthfully it probably didn’t. He was the Dom; she was the sub. She could do what he wanted or suffer the consequences.
“Not exactly.”
“Then what, exactly?”
“It’s just that you’re just so big,” she blurted. “I mean, I knew, of course, I’ve seen you…but… I’ll gag.”
He laughed. “You’ll manage.”
He moved in closer and cradled the back of her head with his palm. It took all her resolve to stay put.
“Open your mouth.”
It took her a few moments to obey, but finally, she did.
“Wider.”
“I’m not sure I can open it wide enough.”
“Baby, I’ve heard you scream. You can open it wide enough.”
He brought her head forward, and she leaned in, moving toward the tip of his cock, licking the precum from the slit. She liked the taste. Surprisingly, she didn’t hate this as much as she thought she might.
Doms of Dark Haven 2: Western Night Page 5