Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender

by Opal Carew

  He grins and looks pleased with himself. He’s got the message that I want to play and have kinky fun, that I want to keep it pervy but light.

  ‘Good.’ He pauses, then reaches for one of the champagne glasses on the bedside table and hands it to me before taking a quick sip from the other. ‘Enjoy your wine. My turn in there.’ He nods to the bathroom and strides away.

  But at the doorway he stops and turns. ‘When I come out of here, we’re playing. Do you understand?’

  I nod and take a quick drink of the gorgeous wine.

  ‘But if you don’t want to play, just say so now.’ He gives me a gentler smile, more reassuring. ‘We can still have a good time together. No games. Just a night of sex.’

  Just one night? No, Suze, don’t go there. There’s nothing more than tonight. That’s all he wants, and if I suddenly decide I want more, it will only spoil things. Just play it is…

  ‘I want to play. I’m ready.’ I give him a bold look, my chin up.

  His answer is a little fist pump and a ‘Yes!’

  As he disappears, I take a pull at my champagne. That was a weird little moment there, and I need to get a grip. Face facts. I’m getting a definite vibe from him, a sort of emotional hands off. It’s a strict sense of the finite—tonight only.

  Is he involved with someone else? I don’t think so, and he’s not wearing a ring. Whatever he was or is, he would never cheat. He has an unshakable code of honour. But despite the fact I know he wants me, I don’t think he wants to be ‘involved’ with me.

  Ruthlessly, I extinguish the little twinge of sadness that thought evokes. Concentrate on the now, fool. The excitement. The fact that you’re finally going to learn what all the secret fuss is about that your friends seem to derive such a glow from.

  I finish the glass of wine and top it up so he won’t know I’ve been knocking it back, and then wander over to his leather jacket, thrown over the easy chair.

  The hide is beautiful quality, soft and fine-grained, and the lining feels like real silk. Only the best for my Jamie, eh? I bet he’s done well for himself. He has that assured aura of a man who’s not short of money, and the champagne and the deluxe room in a hotel that’s known to be exclusive and pricey speak volumes.

  I’ll bet his motorcycle isn’t an old rattletrap either.

  I roam the room, looking at his belongings. He has a top-of-the-range laptop, the latest iPhone, and a sleek tan leather holdall, rather than some canvas or nylon overnight bag.

  Everything elite. Nice to think he considers me an elite enough woman to be his overnight companion too, even with my admitted lack of experience.

  I leap a mile when the door handle turns, almost spilling my champers as he enters the room.

  He says nothing but quells me with a glance that takes in my fluttering nerves and the levels of wine in both my glass and the bottle. One dark eyebrow quirks in amusement. ‘Still a bad girl, eh, Suzie?’ His grin is narrow and sardonic, though there’s warmth in his eyes.

  I open my mouth to say I never was a bad girl, really, but he silences me with a lift of his hand, and I stand frozen as he walks towards me and takes the glass out of my fingers, putting it aside.

  ‘Hush. You don’t have to say anything. Just be still and quiet and listen.’ Warmth becomes heat in his eyes, a stunning green fire. ‘Do you understand?’

  I nod, not sure I should even be looking at him. But I can’t stop myself. He’s suddenly become a god.

  ‘Good girl. Now, first, an important ground rule. Do you know what a “safe word” is? I suspect you do, but we’ll need one to ensure we don’t go beyond your limits.’ He touches my face, his fingers curving around my jaw, making me meet his gaze. ‘Any ideas?’

  There’s only one possible word. Those eyes.

  ‘Emerald.’

  He nods, and his smile is totally unfeigned, totally free of artifice or games. ‘Good choice.’ More softly he adds, ‘Thank you.’

  I’m shaking. Where his fingers touch my face it’s like he’s feeding electricity into me again. I feel as if I might ignite any moment, overcharged. Just when I think I’m about to faint, he releases me.

  ‘Kneel down, Suzie.’

  Wait? What? Oh Lord, it’s starting…

  I sink to my knees, trying to be graceful but feeling like a stumbling fool in the presence of my new deity. I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I just let my arms hang loose at my sides and lower my gaze, staring at Jamie’s naked feet. They’re narrow, like the rest of him, but they look strong. Fleet, as if he’s a runner as well as a biker. Maybe he is?

  He stops my foolish mental meandering in its tracks by touching my face again and making me look directly at the one part of him I know isn’t lean and narrow. The part I know is thick and substantial, the part that’s currently straining against dark denim and his zip.

  He’s touched me and made me come, and I haven’t even seen his cock yet, just its mighty outline. My mouth waters. Oh, I wish he’d let me suck him!

  ‘All in good time,’ he says as if he’s read my thoughts, his voice low and thrilling. Has he acquired magic mental mojo sometime in our long years apart? ‘But you may kiss the general area,’ he finishes with a soft laugh.

  Oh, goody!

  Leaning forward, I press my lips to the rough cloth and the hardness beneath it. I feel heat against my mouth, and the hardness takes my breath away. Down below, my pussy flexes as if calling to the hidden flesh I so long to pleasure with my lips and tongue.

  In a quick, rough action, he digs his fingers into my hair and presses my face against his crotch, working his hips and rubbing the bulge against my lips and cheek. It’s an action of purest dominance, and I love it. My pussy jerks again, fluttering, even without the slightest contact.

  Good grief, why did I never realise how submissive I really am?

  Maybe it’s because I’m not really all that submissive? Except with Jamie Lennox.

  I want to grovel before him, to kiss his feet, but at the same time, I feel a power bubbling in me. He might be in charge, but he’s susceptible to me too. His cock doesn’t lie. I bet I could tip him over, make him want and need release in just the way I do. Without stopping to think, I raise a hand and cup him, still rubbing my face against the front of his jeans.

  ‘You’re wilful, Suzie.’ His voice is stern, but with a thread of humour. This is a game, but it’s still fun, even for Mr Dominant Britches here. ‘You’re greedy. But if I grant you what you want, you’ll have to pay for it. You know that, don’t you?’

  I nod, my fingers curving against his erection. The way he talks, it’s like me sucking him off is some enormous imposition that he’ll have to endure to indulge me.

  When really he’s dying for it as much as I am. He always used to adore being fellated. It was the thing he used to ask for most of all, typical of a male that age.

  He reaches for my chin and tips it up, compelling me to look at other parts of him than his package. His darkened eyes give him away totally, pupils enormous with lust. ‘Very well then, get on with it. Let’s get it over so we can move on to the main point of all this.’ His mouth quirks in a grin even though he’s still maintaining his role as the master, weary of his acolyte’s foibles.

  When I unfasten his jeans button and unzip him, his rampancy pushes out, stretching the black jersey of his underwear. Boxer briefs, I guess, wondering whether to prise him out through the fly aperture or push down the elastic.

  Elastic, I think. It’ll give me more room to manoeuvre. I’m not very deft as I pluck the waistband of his briefs and tug it down, out of the way, easing it beneath his balls, but who would be, given the enormous distraction I’m now revealing.

  Jamie’s cock bounces up, pointing high, and ruddy. His tip is already shiny with fluid, copious, gleaming pre-come that makes the plump head of him look infinitely enticing. Have I dreamt of living this moment again? I think I must have sometimes. Of the few partners I’ve had, he’s the most impressive, the mo
st memorable.

  I glance up at him, but his eyes are closed now. His face is taut with anticipation, and his body feels the same when I lay my hand against his thigh. He’s braced for incoming.

  Chapter Six

  Jamie

  Oh just do it, woman. Don’t keep me waiting. I could order her, again to get on with it, but the moment of anticipation is too all-encompassing. My voice would crack. I’m sure of it.

  As it is, I dare not look at her. She’s so ultimately sexy, down on her knees, about to put her soft lips on me. With a hand that’s nowhere near as steady as it should be, I grip the back of her head, compelling her towards me. Her hair is cool and silky against my fingers.

  And then… oh God. She slips me into the heavenly heat and moisture of her mouth. Flying back across the years, I have to bite my lip to hold in a moan. The act is so simple, yet so monumental.

  How could I have forgotten?

  But I didn’t forget, did I? The recollection of this sensation has been with me all along.

  Her tongue goes into action immediately, flickering and exploring and probing and digging into the most susceptible spots. Just as if it were only yesterday since she did this. As she laps and laves me, I wonder. How many men has she been with and done this to? Has she had a lot of practice? She didn’t need it though. She was always good at this, and her technique is as perfect as it always was.

  As she worries the groove beneath my crown, I grunt. I can’t help myself. I can’t stay aloof and masterly. It’s too good. Far too good. I grab at her head with both hands and brace my thighs. I don’t want to tumble to the floor as I come, but it might be a very close thing.

  I try to think of formulae and code, the tools of my trade as a mathematician, programmer, and scientist. It’s a vain attempt to stop myself overflowing and climaxing immediately. But it’s hopeless, hopeless. My balls crawl and silver fire hurtles down my spine, barrelling through my loins and out through my cock as I shoot my semen, almost like the callow youth I once was.

  My mind blanks, but somehow my body doesn’t betray me, and I remain standing, my hips jerking in a hammer rhythm.

  As I come back to myself, I seem to hear laughter, even though the only sound is my gasping, laboured breathing.

  It’s triumph echoing through my mind. An atavistic lizard triumph of my own, yet which is also hers.

  Suzie’s.

  She’s playing a submissive role she barely understands yet, but somehow she’s already got the better of me.

  For the moment, I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all.

  Susannah

  Oh, he tastes so good! Even if in reality he doesn’t taste of much at all. Semen is a bit bland when it comes right down to it. It’s the context and the emotion of the moment that create its savour.

  Greedily, I swallow down every last drop as if I’m swallowing Jamie’s pleasure too, like a healing balsam. The echoes of the past have been with us like a ghost at the feast, but now that we’ve had an orgasm apiece, they’re fading, losing their power to disrupt our enjoyment of each other.

  At least for the moment, as I let him slip from between my lips.

  I don’t know what to do now. I don’t know what I’m allowed to do. Should I kiss him one last time? Or just wait to be told what to do, listening to the sound of his breathing returning to normal? Are his eyes still closed? I daren’t look up and see.

  ‘Put me away,’ he says in a low, commanding voice. How quickly his poise returns. So soon after my orgasm, I was still in little pieces. ‘With care.’

  I focus on my task, not daring to glance upwards. He’s deflated but still substantial, the velvety skin still shiny with my saliva and his come. Carefully, I tug the elastic away from under his balls and tuck him back inside before zipping him up. I fumble for the button, but he says, ‘Enough. That will do.’

  I leave him unbuttoned and await instructions.

  ‘So, now what am I going to do with you?’ He leaves me still kneeling and walks to the sideboard. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him top up a champagne glass and take a long drink, his head tipping back and his eyes closing as he swallows. The impression of an angel returns, a dark and dangerous angel but beatific all the same. After he’s taken another sip, he returns to me and puts the glass to my lips. I sip gratefully, even though it means losing his flavour.

  ‘You must be obedient, Suzie,’ he says crisply, abandoning the glass. ‘A submissive doesn’t initiate. She goes along with the flow of the master’s wishes. The blow job was very pleasant, but it wasn’t exactly how I planned to start this thing.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Hush. The submissive doesn’t speak until instructed to either. What on earth am I going to do with you?’ His voice softens.

  For a few moments he’s silent, and I can tell he’s scrutinising me, even though I keep my eyes lowered as I assume a submissive ought to.

  ‘You’re wearing far too many clothes for a start. Take them off.’

  I risk a glance.

  ‘Everything off. I want you naked. You can get to your feet if that’ll make it easier.’

  Cautiously, I rise. My heart is pounding, and suddenly my excitement is rising as if it’s shooting skywards in an escalator. We’re really getting into it now, and it’s deadly serious… and seriously thrilling. It’s as if suddenly I’m in another world, and to my surprise, I understand its allure.

  Having already abandoned my jacket, I reach around to unbutton the back of my simple shell top, not sure where what feels like a dozen thumbs have come from. I struggle like an idiot getting the thing off over my head and get all hot and bothered, annoyed by my own lack of grace. Once I’m free, I fling the top on the carpet.

  ‘Tut-tut.’ To my astonishment, Jamie swoops down to retrieve it and puts it neatly over the back of a hard chair.

  To try to retrieve some equilibrium, I step out of my shoes before tackling my skirt and place them by the same chair. Skirt off next, and then I’m in my undies. They’re pretty lace undies, and I suppose I chose them with the subconscious idea of meeting someone. But Jamie doesn’t comment, even though he’s surely worked out the reason for such sexy finery.

  The urge to fold my arms across my breasts when I’ve taken off my bra is almost as irresistible as it is irrational. It’s been a long time, but Jamie’s seen my breasts before. And he’s touched my pussy within the past half hour, so the apprehension about taking off my knickers is just as ridiculous.

  Naked, I stand before him, staring at my toes again. I feel as if I’m in a state beyond nudity now, more exposed than I’ve ever been, and he ramps up the situation by walking around me in a slow circle, as if he’s checking every little change the years might have wrought.

  ‘You’re very lovely,’ he says at last and reaches out to cup my breast, almost as if weighing it and comparing the heft of it to the last time he touched it. I think my figure is better these days, even though I’m no slender supermodel. I still had the last of my puppy fat back then, and I’ve sleekened a bit now, even though I still have curves.

  That electric energy surges through me again when he strums one of my nipples. It’s as hard as a stone, perkily erect. When Jamie rolls it between his finger and thumb, then pinches, my hips jerk and I let out a gasp.

  ‘You always did like your nipples played with, didn’t you?’ He pinches a bit harder, drawing the tip of my breast away from my chest wall, creating an excruciating tension. The gasp becomes a moan, and the urge to reach between my legs and stroke myself almost twists me in two.

  ‘Keep still.’ He doesn’t shout or raise his voice in the slightest, but it’s a rigorous command.

  I obey, even though the tension makes me almost gasp for breath as he continues to torment my breast, pulling, tugging. Not hard, but very assertively. He’s found a most acute vulnerability. The pain of what he’s doing is minimal, really, more a discomfort, but against all reason, I want him to do more. And more and more and more…

&
nbsp; What’s wrong with me?

  Is anything wrong with me? I don’t think so.

  How long have I been into this without being aware of it?

  He tweaks a little harder and I squirm, unable to hold in a little moan. I’m wet between my legs too, all over again, more than before. There’s a sensation of welling over and I could swear that it’s starting to trickle down my inner thigh.

  ‘You really like this, don’t you?’ Jamie purrs, moving in closer now, not tugging but just twisting a little harder. I purse my lips to stop myself whimpering out loud, but he kisses me, teasing the sound from my mouth and consuming it.

  It’s a very tender kiss, but his tongue delicately intrudes. Mine reciprocates hungrily, pushing back, and he makes an uh-uh sound of admonishment in his throat.

  I ignore him, tasting boldly. I can’t help myself.

  ‘You’re a wicked, disobedient girl,’ he tells me, mouth still next to mine, letting me feel his smile as he releases my breast and slides both hands down my body and around the back to cup my buttocks. ‘But you’re really into this, aren’t you? You’re a natural submissive, even if you are a naughty one.’

  He kisses me again. Hard this time, his tongue utterly subduing mine. He squeezes my bottom at the same time, and the feeling is like an electric shock again. Helplessly I wriggle my hips and grind against him. He’s hard as a rock again, surprise, surprise.

  Chapter Seven

  Jamie

  She’s really into this. She’s right on the page with me. Why the hell didn’t we try this all those years ago? We might have stayed together then. It might have been our bond.

  But that’s stupid. Why brood on what might have been? Especially now that my cock is hard as a rock again. My powers of recuperation are pretty much those of any normal, average man, but Suzie seems to have changed me into a god!

  Her mouth is intoxicating. Her bottom’s a work of art. The way she wriggles and moans under even the slightest bit of pleasure-pain is a miracle. God, I can’t wait to get her over my knee so I can spank her.