Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender

by Opal Carew

  ‘Make love to me, Jamie,’ she says softly as she releases me and hitches a little way across the bed to make more room for me.

  I can’t think of anything I’ve ever wanted to do more in my entire life.

  Susannah

  Jamie doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to. His eyes say that’s all he wants to do. Opening the bedside drawer, he flicks out a few of the condoms that the management of The Retreat thoughtfully put there for their randy guests, then climbs onto the bed beside me, silver packet in hand.

  Should I offer to put it on for him? Too late, he’s already unwrapped it, unrolled it, and covered himself before I even open my mouth. He’s had a lot of practice at that, my green-eyed inner monster points out to me. I wonder how many lovers he’s had since me? Loads, I’ll bet, because he’s glorious and any woman in her right mind would fling herself at him.

  I banish the monster and reach for my love. Those women in their right minds aren’t here now, and I am. I’m the one whose thighs are lolling apart for him. I’m the one he’s reaching to caress, readying me. Desire rising again, I barely need a touch. I’m turned on to the nth degree, purely from the beauty of the man who’s making love to me.

  The way he rolls my clit makes me squirm, fluttering precariously. ‘Jamie, please. I want you. Now.’

  He smiles, admiration in his eyes. He likes assertive as much as he likes submissive. Mad thoughts flicker in my mind. Will we ever get chance for that? I hope so. I really hope so, even if our time together is finite.

  Stop thinking, silly woman. Just enjoy!

  After one last flick of my clit, Jamie moves over me and positions himself. I like the feeling of his fingers there, making sure he goes in smoothly with no blind prodding and poking about. It’s more intimate than ever somehow. More real. More familiar. Like lovers who are friends too, knowing each other’s every foible.

  He thrusts hard and sure, making me gasp and make weird sounds of hunger and joy. But I don’t care, that intimacy we share means it doesn’t matter if I make noises or screw my face up. It doesn’t matter if Jamie half growls and curses a blue streak, his hips jerking and swinging to get his cock right to the heart of me. He grimaces too. He’s fighting for control.

  ‘Fuck! I want you so much, Suzie. I wanted to make this last. Really last… Damn, damn, damn.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ I counter, panting. ‘It really doesn’t. I’m ready.’

  ‘It does matter! It’s a point of honour.’ But he laughs too, the vibration of it rippling through our joined bodies and pushing me closer and closer, closer and closer.

  Looming above me, he closes his eyes tight and grits his teeth. For a moment he keeps still, on the outstroke, and then pushes again, more slowly, more measuredly. My vagina ripples around him, but at the same time I’m fascinated, a part of me observing a miraculous phenomenon.

  What is he doing? Is he trying to slow himself down? I know he’s some kind of computer genius, so what’s he up to? Is he writing code in his head or something? Whatever it is, it gives him total control.

  Smoothly, sweetly, he fucks me, and sweetly and wildly, I come and come, my spirit whirling up in a twister of pleasure as my flesh clenches and grabs at his. I don’t write code. I barely know my own name. All I know is ecstasy and how much I love Jamie.

  ‘Yes!’ he gasps at last, as if he’s finally satisfied with the number of orgasms he’s given me, and with that, the brakes are off and the calculations over.

  Potent and primal, he thrusts in deep, grabbing at my bottom to hold us close as he goes at me in short, manic strokes. He curses again, but it’s a mix of blue words and poetic, loving praise.

  Not the words though, even as he comes.

  Not the words I shout out, rising with him.

  ‘I love you. I love you. I love you.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Susannah

  I fly awake, mind whirling to get up to speed even though I don’t move where I’m lying. It takes a millisecond, but then it dawns on me. It’s the fact that Jamie is no longer beside me, that’s what’s woken me up. Slowly, very cautiously, I sneak my hand out towards his side of the bed and find the void where he’s been. The echo of another emptiness I’ll feel when we part.

  No! I can’t bear that. I crack open an eye and look across the room. My heart lifts. There he is, sitting in the window seat, wearing just a towel slung around his hips, a bottle of mineral water in his hand as he gazes out across The Retreat’s gardens and parkland. He appears to draw in a deep breath and huff it out again, as if thinking important thoughts. Then he takes a sip from his water, caps the bottle again, and puts it aside.

  Even his simplest action is beautiful. He makes the mundane elegant.

  He makes the special and unusual out of this world!

  Memories of pleasure surge again, so intense I’m almost turned on despite my apprehension about the future.

  I also remember what I shouted out when I was coming.

  Did he want to hear that? Did he believe it? Or did he simply discount it as a fairly normal wild overreaction to a beautiful orgasm? Only words.

  But they weren’t only words to me, Jamie, and I don’t think I can give you up again. I just can’t. Not this time. Whatever your feelings for me are, I’m going to have to bring you around to my way of thinking. Somehow.

  I’ve never seen him look more stunning than at this moment. Even though he looks breathtaking most of the time. His hair is slightly damp, swept back off his face, and his profile is sharply defined, strong, and yet at the same time strangely sensitive. The skin on his lean chest and arms looks buff with health, hard and toned.

  Suddenly he snaps around and looks towards me, as if he’s sensed my scrutiny.

  I can’t hide from him, so I sit up. ‘Hey!’ I mutter, feeling inane.

  He makes to get up, but I throw myself out of bed, tugging a sheet around me as I move, then pad towards him, trailing most of it after me.

  ‘Hey, yourself,’ he says softly, his face very young in the twilight from outside. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Yes. I’m fine, thanks.’ I take my place, facing him on the window seat, drinking in the sight of his face, his body. I’m so muddled. I love him and I want him and I’m in awe of him all at once, and I don’t quite know what to do. But his skin seems to call to me, so I reach out, wanting to feel its silken smooth texture.

  He grabs my hand, forestalling me. No! Something inside me shrills again, wounded by rejection, even as I make every external attempt to shrug it off and appear chilled out.

  ‘I want to talk first, Suzie.’ He retains his hold on my hand, and that buoys me up, along with the word ‘first’.

  ‘Okay. Right. That’s probably a good idea.’ I want to talk too. I want to know where I stand as soon as possible. I want to know if it’s going to be easy, or if I’ll have to work like dog to get him fully back in my life.

  There’s a long moment of silence in which I fancy I can hear both my heart and his, beat, beat, beating.

  ‘I still love you, Suzie. I never stopped.’ The words are simple and open, the truth of them borne out in the luminous clarity of his green eyes. No evasion. No deceit. No shadows. It’s all out there. I’m stunned, even though underneath I half knew it already. ‘I don’t want to lose you again, love, but I won’t force the issue if you don’t feel the same, or you’re not ready to think about it yet.’ He takes another of those deep breaths. ‘If we can just find a way to be friends for now, I’ll accept that.’

  Something’s wrong with my vision. I have to blink. It’s sort of blurred. Holy hell, it’s tears causing it. Happy tears, because here I’ve been tormenting myself, wondering how I can say exactly the same thing he’s just said.

  ‘Oh heck, Jamie, ever since we were here last, I’ve been driving myself crazy, wondering how I could say the very same thing to you!’ I’m shaking, half laughing at myself. ‘I’ve been thinking how best to get in contact with you. Wondering if I should w
ait and ask Ben for your number or try some other way. First one, then the other, round and round and round. Telling myself I’m a coward. Telling myself I should think things through. Basically going mad, you know?’

  ‘I do. Oh, how I do.’ He beams at me. Reaches for me, sort of gets me into his arms somehow, perched on the window seat in a tangle of sheet and towel. ‘I’ve been driving myself nuts in America, cursing myself for going. Telling myself I’m a git because if I really loved you, I’d have stayed and to hell with business and all that shit.’

  ‘But you’re here now. That’s all that matters. I love you too, Jamie. I probably have all along, just like you. But I was too young and too silly to realise it at first, and too… I don’t know… inert or whatever to acknowledge it and act on it later.’

  ‘Ditto.’

  ‘I should have tried.’

  ‘So should I.’

  We hold each other, hugging hard, shaking a bit, not kissing but just clinging on for dear life to ensure we don’t part again. After a while, we loosen and sit, just lightly entwined, looking out at the greenery and the peace outside, not yet ready for all the words that will have to be said. Simple togetherness is enough. Contentment.

  Being in the right place with the right person at last.

  ‘We’re here now though,’ he says at length as if there’s been no gap in our conversation. ‘And we’re older and wiser and we know better how to work things out. And what we don’t know we can make up as we go along.’

  Well, he’s certainly wiser, that’s for sure. And maybe I am too, although I’m still a realist.

  ‘True, very true. But we still do face the problem of living in different places.’ I take his hand and trace the lines on his palm. I know nothing of palmistry. I’m just hoping that whatever’s there is a good omen. ‘We’ll just have to figure out a bit of lateral thinking so we can be together.’

  Not that an immediate answer springs to mind, except travel.

  He turns his hand over, takes mine, and brings it to his lips for a kiss. Then he swivels around on the seat a bit and makes me face him.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got some ideas.’ His smile makes me believe he does, and that they’re good ones.

  ‘I suppose you live in London.’

  It’s the obvious place for him. But can I live there? I haven’t made a glittering career for myself, but I’ve worked hard, and I like the job I do at Freeman-Brady, and I like the friends I have there: Sarah, Maggie, Rachel. Even though Sarah and Maggie are both committed now, neither one of them is moving away from the area.

  I get the feeling that Jamie sees all this inner debate on my face. ‘I do at the moment. I’ve lived in lots of different places, and various countries. I haven’t been back in the UK for a long time, so I’ve not really built up a life for myself in the Smoke, and I’ve been thinking about a change of scene.’

  Oh God, would he really move for me?

  ‘I’ve made a lot of money doing what I do. Quite a lot in fact. You’d be surprised. But I’ve been thinking of kicking back from it for a while. Just doing projects that interest me, and maybe doing more work remotely.’ He smiles again, and I can see a boyish light in his eyes. ‘What I’d really like to do more of is restoring motorbikes. I’ve done a bit in the past, in various lock-ups. But I’d like a place somewhere with a bit of land and some outbuildings for a workshop.’ He snags his lower lip. ‘And I could just as easily look for something in this area as anywhere else. Now I’ve got a solid reason to be here. Someone to love here.’

  I hurl myself at him and hug him. I just can’t help myself. My miracle man has just gone shazam and made our single biggest obstacle disappear.

  Oh, I know it won’t be all plain sailing. We’re both strong-willed, and we have a lot of years to bridge and history to share. But we’re together, and we can make it, because we love each other.

  ‘I love you, Jamie,’ I tell him again, burying my face in his silky black hair as he hugs me back as hard as I’m hugging him. ‘I love you. I love you. I love you.’

  Why keep it a secret now? When he loves me in return…

  ###

  I hope you enjoyed my novella, Her Secret, and the story of Susannah and Jamie’s rekindled love and their sizzling games of BDSM pleasure.

  If you’d like to receive news of new stories in the Secret Pleasures series, along with my other erotic romances, please sign up for my newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/OZuCT

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  About Portia Da Costa

  Portia Da Costa is a NYT, USA Today, Amazon #1 and UK Sunday Times best-selling British author of romance, erotic romance, and erotica, whose short stories and novels have been published in the UK and elsewhere since 1991. She loves creating stories about sexy, likeable people in steamy, scandalous situations and has written for various publishers over the years, including Black Lace, HQN, Spice Briefs, Samhain Publishing, Carina Press, and a good many others. Though her best-known titles are mainly contemporary erotic romance, she also enjoys writing super-hot Victorian historical romance and erotic paranormals. She’s even turned her hand to a bit of erotic sci-fi and horror on occasion.

  Recently, her Black Lace contemporary erotic romance In Too Deep reached Number #5 in the Sunday Times paperback fiction chart, with only books by E L James and Sylvia Day outselling her!

  When Portia isn’t writing, she’s usually to be found loafing around watching the television or reading. Or she might be filling one of her ever-growing collection of cheap fountain pens with yet another eye-searingly lurid shade of ink. She lives in the heart of West Yorkshire in the UK with her long-suffering husband and their clowder of beloved cats: brother and sister Mork and Mindy, cranky but lovable Felix, and Prince, a rescue cat from France.

  Books by Portia Da Costa

  Contemporary Erotic Romance stories and novellas

  Secret Pleasures series

  1. His Secret

  2. Their Secret

  3. Her Secret

  4. The Boss’s Secret (tba 2015)

  5. The Master’s Secret (tba 2015)

  His by Choice series

  1. An Appointment with Her Master

  2. Another Appointment

  In Love with Two Men

  1. Power of Three

  2. Tempted by Two

  Three Colors Sexy

  1. Discipline of the Blue Book

  2. Ritual of the Red Chair

  3. Ecstasy in the White Room

  BDSM Romance short fiction

  Forbidden Treasures

  In Sebastian’s Hands

  Naughty Thoughts

  Erotic Romance short fiction

  Fire and Ice

  Glint

  Object of Desire

  The Efficiency Expert

  Boxed Sets and Collections

  Daring Interludes

  Delicious Pain

  Delicious Pleasure

  Contemporary Erotic Romance Novels

  The Accidental Trilogy

  1. The Accidental Call Girl

  2. The Accidental Mistress

  3. The Accidental Bride

  Entertaining Mr. Stone

  Hotbed

  How to Seduce a Billionaire

  In Too Deep

  Lessons and Lovers

  Suite Seventeen

  The Red Collection

  The Stranger

  The Tutor

  Historical Erotic Romance

  The Ladies’
Sewing Circle

  In the Flesh

  Diamonds in the Rough

  A Gentlewoman’s Quartet

  Their Secret — Excerpt

  Forbidden Pleasures #2 - Maggie’s Story

  Portia Da Costa

  When Maggie Jenkins agrees to meet her online lover, the enigmatic “Mr. Jones”, at The Retreat, a luxury hotel with a risqué reputation, she knows she’s taking a wild and daring chance.

  Mr. Jones is an irresistible temptation, an exciting alpha male who’s been tutoring Maggie in the mysteries of power exchange and BDSM sensuality. She’s half in love with her unknown master already, so despite the foolhardiness of submitting to a man she’s never met, Maggie reaches out to grasp pleasure, and her future, with both hands.

  But fate throws a huge surprise in with the breathtaking bliss… and emotional complications Maggie could never have foreseen.

  Chapter One

  I’ve booked us a suite at The Retreat for the night of the seventeenth, as you suggested. It’s in the name of Jones. The Primrose Suite. I’ll be arriving late afternoon, and I look forward to meeting you, finally, in the flesh.

  Oh God, oh God, this was it! Finally, after all these weeks, they were going to meet. And play.

  And he was going to spank her bottom.

  If you’ve changed your mind, beautiful Maggie, tell me now, and we’ll never speak of it again. We can continue as we are. I’ll be perfectly content with that. But I don’t think you will. I don’t think it will be enough for you. You’re the bravest and most imaginative woman I’ve ever “met.”

  Trembling, she let her finger hover over the message icon. Could she really meet him? Could she really do it? There was a big difference between bold cyber talk and raunchy flirting, and actually meeting the man. Between describing her fantasies and living them out.

  Did she dare meet her master and let him punish her?

  Her fingertip shook. She nearly started tapping out a “perhaps not” message.

  No! I’ve got to meet him! I’ve got to! I asked for this, and I want it. It’s my destiny.

  She smiled, her heart pounding, and the old familiar honeyed surge rippled in her belly.