“Yes,” Jordan hissed, the s sibilant with need. “Please.” She arched her body upward.
With a small, sadistic laugh, Donovan held himself back, his cock made even harder by her wanton effort to draw him deeper inside. “Do you deserve to be fucked, Jordan? Have you earned it?”
Even in the throes of her lust, the adorable girl blushed. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, ducking her head downward.
Donovan had never known someone whose emotions were so readily apparent in the flushing of their skin. He felt at once tender and desperate to have her at last. His need was almost painful. “God, I want you so fucking much,” he whispered.
He pushed gently into her, moving slowly, giving her time to accommodate his girth. Her cunt was like a wet, silky sheath, the muscles pulling him deeper inside as they clamped around him. Donovan groaned. He wasn’t going to be able to last very long, not this first time, anyway. She was just too perfect beneath him, too hot, too sexy, too right.
Donovan’s body took over, his entire being exploding in pure, raw pleasure as he thrust deep inside Jordan. He didn’t want to come, not yet, so he forced himself to ease up. Reaching up, he pulled Jordan’s arms from around his neck and extended them over her head against the bed, letting his weight rest on her wrists as he held her down.
Jordan gasped, her cunt tightening around his shaft. “Ooooo,” she moaned, lifting her body as much as she could beneath him. Donovan began to thrust again, no longer able to hold back, not even a little. Jordan began to tremble, making little gasping cries. Suddenly she stiffened and he could actually feel the spasm of a climax emanating from deep inside her.
That did it—he couldn’t hold on anymore, not for another second. He let himself go, still gripping her wrists high over her head as he spurt his seed deep inside her. He felt as if he were melting into the fabric of the universe. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t hear, he could barely move. His head was spinning, the room humming, the world out of focus.
He must have lost consciousness for a second or two, because when he came to himself he was lying heavily on Jordan, his heart pounding against hers. Their bodies were slick with sweat and his hands were still on her wrists, though he was no longer gripping them.
With an effort, Donovan forced himself up and rolled from her. He lifted himself onto one elbow and stared down at the lovely girl beside him. Jordan lay still, her eyes closed, legs akimbo, arms still extended over her head. Her chest and cheeks were flushed a rosy, orgasmic pink and there was a small, beatific smile on her face. With a happy sigh, Donovan fell back beside her and let his eyes close.
Chapter 12
“Looks like you have a text message.” Donovan held out Jordan’s cell phone. It was Tuesday morning and the forty-eight hours were nearing their end. Jordan’s phone had sat by the bed untouched during that time. Now the little whistle that indicated a text had caught Donovan’s attention.
Jordan, wet hair curling behind her ears, her naked body damp and rosy-hued, took her cell phone. As she looked down at the screen, Donovan admired the lovely young woman. He had definitely approved of Jordan’s way of waking him up—her mouth closing warm and wet over his cock and not letting go until he’d pushed her away in his desperation to sink his shaft deep into the wet, perfect curve of her cunt.
He would have asked Gordon to take his shift at the free clinic that afternoon so they could have spent the rest of day making love, but he knew even if Gordon felt one-hundred percent better, he wouldn’t have been fever-free long enough to be around the patients.
Donovan told himself it was for the best. Jordan and he had been moving awfully fast, even given the forty-eight hour “anything goes” nature of their weekend. He wouldn’t want to give her the wrong impression, after all.
“It’s Gene!” Jordan said excitedly. “He found a replacement already. Someone he knows with experience. I don’t have to be a waitress anymore, except on an as-needed basis. I get to be a full time Mistress at the club starting tonight!”
Donovan couldn’t help but smile at Jordan’s eager excitement. “I don’t have to be at the free clinic until noon. Your news definitely calls for a celebration. How about I take you to Eve’s S&M Toy Box after breakfast? They have great stuff there, top quality. We get a lot of our gear and equipment for the club there. How about a new outfit for Mistress Jordan’s debut as Dominatrix in residence? Sound good?”
“Sounds great,” Jordan replied with a broad smile. “I’ve heard about that place. I’ve been meaning to check it out.”
Donovan fed Jordan one last time, thinking how right it felt to have the sub girl kneeling naked at his feet, her small, pretty mouth open to receive sustenance, her big green eyes so sweetly focused on his face as if nothing else existed, nothing else mattered. It was almost as if she, and she alone, belonged there.
Donovan gave himself a mental shake of the shoulders. What was he thinking? He reminded himself of the mantra by which he lived and which had always served him well—stay in the moment.
As Donovan weaved his way through the traffic, they traded stories about BDSM scenes that had gone awry over the years in one way or another, laughing at each other’s tales of humorous woe. When Jordan reached for Donovan’s hand at a traffic light, he intertwined his fingers with hers, their hands fitting perfectly together. He felt as if they’d known each other for years, and it felt good.
He found a parking place reasonably close to the store. Once inside, he grinned as he watched Jordan take in the large space, which was actually a converted warehouse. The place was filled with every kind of BDSM gear and clothing one could imagine, and plenty more one had never even thought of. Even though it was a Tuesday morning, there were plenty of folk milling around, most of them dressed in leather or latex, many adorned with chains and slave collars.
Along with the usual array of whips, chains, cuffs, gags, dildos and sex toys, there was an entire section of BDSM furniture and restraining devices, as well as a huge selection of leather and fetish wear. The management had what they called a user-friendly policy, and they encouraged people to try out the equipment before they bought, though they drew the line at any actual scenes.
If he’d had more time, they could have spent the day in the place, as many fetish and BDSM enthusiasts did. Donovan would have enjoyed placing Jordan in the stocks and playfully smacking her shapely ass, or strapping her into the inversion chair and slowly tipping her until she was completely upside down, legs spread wide. Unfortunately, duty called at the clinic, so he led the wide-eyed and gaping young woman past the BDSM furniture and equipment to the clothing racks.
He moved along the aisles. “I was thinking something from this rack might fit the bill nicely,” he said, stopping in front of the corsets. He looked through the items until he found what he was looking for. It was a mini-dress of soft black leather, the top half of which was a corset that laced up the front.
“This would look hot on you. Though still super sexy, it provides the full coverage you would want for the club. And look, it’s got the garters built in.” He took the dress from the rack and held it out, turning it so Jordan could see. “There’s a nice long zipper up the back so it’s easy to get on and off. What do you think?”
Jordan eyed the skimpy dress and nodded with approval. “I like it.” She glanced around the store. “Do they have fitting rooms? Can I try it on?”
“Yeah. In the back. Let’s grab some shoes and stockings too. I want to see the full effect.” Donovan selected a pair of silky, sheer black stockings topped with lace while Jordan tried on several pairs of stiletto heels until she found a pair that fit.
They had to find a saleswoman to unlock a fitting room for Jordan. With pink hair and multiple tattoos, the girl appeared to be in her early twenties. “I’ll just go in with you,” she told Jordan. “You’re going to need help getting that zipper up by yourself. Believe me, I know from personal experience.”
Donovan settled down in a chair just outside the fittin
g rooms while he waited for Jordan to slip out of her blouse and jeans and reemerge transformed. When she finally stepped out of the fitting room, Donovan let out a low whistle of admiration. As the saleswoman nodded her approval, Jordan posed like a goddess, hands on her hips, her head cocked to the side. Several guys who had been passing by stopped and stared at her, their tongues literally hanging out of their mouths as they gaped at the slender beauty in her leather and lace.
Donovan had the sudden crazy impulse to smack the faces of the gawking men and order them to keep their eyes to themselves. He felt an unpleasant spasm in his chest and it took him a moment to identify the unfamiliar feeling.
Holy shit. He was jealous!
“How am I going to deal with all the horn dogs at the club once they get a load of you in that getup, eh, Mistress Jordan? You’re going to be mobbed the minute you set foot in the club.” He meant for his tone to be bantering, but wasn’t sure he’d quite pulled it off.
Fortunately, Jordan just laughed. “No harder than me having to watch you dom all those gorgeous women every night for the adoring crowds. Good thing we’re pros, huh?”
“Yeah. Good thing.” Donovan glanced at his watch. “We better get going if I’m going to get to the clinic on time.”
Jordan’s grin faltered a little and Donovan felt bad, but he realized he had to put the brakes on whatever was happening before things skidded way out of control. In a voice that came out businesslike, even brusque, he instructed, “Just hand the things over the top of the door. I’ll meet you at the checkout counter.”
Jordan nodded, the smile completely gone now. “Yeah, sure.”
They were quiet as they drove back to his neighborhood, letting the music from a jazz CD fill the car in lieu of conversation. Though he missed the easy warmth they’d shared on the drive over, he knew this was for the best. It wouldn’t be fair to lead Jordan on or give her the wrong idea. The weekend had been great, but now it was over.
Traffic was even worse on the way home than it had been on the way there. “Shit,” Donovan said, looking at his watch once he’d finally pulled into his driveway. “I’m going to be late for my shift.” He climbed out of the car, walking around it toward Jordan, who stood clutching the bag containing her new outfit. “If I leave now I might just make it.” He looked at Jordan. “Listen, would you mind locking up for me after you gather your things?” He held out the house key. “You can give it back tonight at the club.”
Jordan took the key, frowning. “Sure. Or I could just wait here at the house till you get back later? We could go in to work together.”
Donovan shook his head. “No, no. I’m sure you have stuff to do before the club opens. You’ve been away all weekend. I’ll just see you later tonight.” He took in the sudden hurt on her face and blew out a breath. “Hey, don’t look like that.” He reached for her, pulling her into his arms. “You were absolutely fantastic this weekend, Jordan. I’m so glad I won our bet. I hope you are too.”
Jordan started to speak but Donovan stopped her by placing his mouth over hers. He kissed her long and deep, moving his tongue over her soft lips and into her mouth as he pulled her close. His cock rose against her body as he held her to him. If only he didn’t have to go to the damn clinic today. If only he could spend a little longer pretending he was Jordan’s real Master.
~*~
“So how was the weekend at the Master’s place?” Annette was polishing glasses behind the counter when Jordan walked into the bar early that evening.
“What? How did you know I was there?” Jordan countered, taken completely by surprise by the question, though maybe in retrospect she shouldn’t have been. After all, Gene and Donovan owned the club together. Maybe they were better friends than she’d realized.
Donovan’s parting words had smacked her like cold water in the face. I’m so glad I won our bet. Was that really all it had been to him? Maybe Annette and Gene had been in on the bet. Maybe Donovan had given them a blow-by-blow account of the whole fucking weekend after he’d sent her away.
Annette, obviously unaware of the turmoil in Jordan’s head or the tight knot in the pit of her stomach, replied, “Donovan must have turned off his cell phone for the weekend. He does that sometimes, so we weren’t really worried. Anyway, Gene decided just to swing by Sunday night to drop off some tax papers. When he saw your car there, he decided it could wait.” She flashed a grin and then continued, “Then we drove by this morning and your car was still there, so…” She paused and then waggled her eyebrows in a comically suggestive way. “Come on, you can tell me. Girl to girl. Out with it. Hold nothing back. My main question is, who dommed who?” Annette laughed.
When Jordan didn’t join in, Annette sobered, hung the glass she’d been polishing and set down the cloth. Leaning over the bar, she put her hand over Jordan’s. “What, honey? What is it? I was only joking around. I hope you didn’t take offense. I’ve seen the sparks flying between you two ever since you started here. I figured it would just be a matter of time before you hooked up.”
Jordan glanced around the barroom. Though Gene had told her she didn’t need to show up much before nine, she was nearly an hour early. She hadn't wanted to knock around her apartment any longer. She’d spent the rest of the afternoon trying not to read too much into Donovan’s abrupt dismissal of her, after the intensity of the weekend. She’d thought of calling or texting him, but after the strange way the morning had ended, she’d decided not to. Let him get in touch first and explain himself.
She’d looked at her cell phone at least a dozen times as the hours passed, staring at the blank screen as if it were a broken heart in her palm.
Had she misread the weekend so completely?
Not willing to share all this with Annette, Jordan asked instead, “Where’s the new waitress?”
Annette withdrew her hand and reached for another glass to polish. “Suzanne is with Gene, doing some paperwork. I’ve already given her a quick refresher of her duties. She worked here for a few months a couple of years back. She did a good job, too, but she moved away. She’d been living down in LA for a while but had recently moved back up here. Talk about good timing! She actually called us to see if there was an opening. You excited about your new gig?”
Relieved Annette had changed the subject, Jordan nodded. “Yeah. I need your help with the zipper of my new outfit, if you have a minute.”
Annette threw the dish towel over her shoulder and came around the side of the bar. “Sure. Let’s go.”
They walked together through the dungeon to the staff changing room. As they passed the bondage wheel, Jordan saw the image of herself, naked and bound, her arms and legs spread wide, the Master leaning toward her with those piercing blue eyes, a flogger in his hands. The image was so clear she had to blink twice until it disappeared.
Shaking her head, Jordan followed Annette into the staff changing room. She removed her blouse and jeans and took the sexy new dress off its satin-covered hanger.
“Nice,” Annette remarked. “Is it new?”
Jordan nodded. “Donovan bought it for me this morning.”
Annette lifted her eyebrows. “Did he now?”
After Annette had zipped Jordan into the snug corset dress, she sat on the bench, watching as Jordan rolled her stocking into place and attached the garters that hung from the hem. “You are going to turn some heads in that outfit, Mistress,” she said in a wistful tone. “Almost makes me miss my professional Dominatrix days.”
“You were a pro?” Jordan asked, momentarily forgetting her angst over the Master.
Annette nodded. “Sure was. That’s how I met Gene. I used to rent dungeon space at The Vault. He was my best customer.” She smiled fondly in recollection. “I knew he was in love with me before he did.” She grinned. “But I kept it to myself for the longest time. Until I started falling in love back.” Her grinned broadened. “As I’m sure you know, a kind of transference goes on sometimes in that kind of scene. Guys think they’re in love
with you, but really they just love what you can give them. You have to be very, very careful not to get that submissive devotion mixed up with love.”
Jordan nodded, her angst returning. Was that what had been going on in Donovan’s head? Did he think she wanted not the man, but only what he could give her? Was he just protecting himself?
Annette interrupted her thoughts, adding, “When we first started seriously dating, I kept up the pro Domme gig for a while. Gene was cool about it, because he knew there was no actual sex going on, but I found my heart just wasn’t in it anymore. Truth to tell, I was burning out, even if Gene hadn't come into my life. I was ready to do something different. When he got the chance to buy this club, I was happy to give up my space at The Vault and sign on as barkeep, since that’s what I did before becoming a pro Domme.”
She smiled encouragingly at Jordan. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s a great gig, especially for someone single like you. No complications that way, you know? And there are tons of guys desperate to submit, and a lot fewer women, unfortunately, ready to take them in hand. If you’re good at what you do, you’ll have as many clients as you can handle.”
Jordan slipped into her high heels and turned in front of the three-way mirror. “I’m a little nervous about my first night as a pro,” she confessed. “I hope it works out.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Annette said. “You definitely look the part in that outfit. And, any personal attraction aside, Donovan wouldn’t have agreed to hire you if he hadn't been impressed with your audition. You have what it takes. Just tap into your inner bitch and you’ll be terrific.” She laughed and Jordan laughed too, a little of the tightness inside her uncoiling.
Annette patted the bench. “Hey, sit down a minute. Tell me what’s going on with you. Is it something with Donovan? I know him pretty well. He’s a great guy but he can be pretty dense sometimes. He’s a guy, after all, even if he is the Master.” She laughed again, her dark eyes sparkling.
BDSM Club Series Box Set Page 56