Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender

by Opal Carew

  Arms twined around his neck, she opened enthusiastically for him. He tasted of some kind of tart fruit and a hint of cream. The man was simply delicious in every interpretation of the word. Handsome, brilliant, gorgeous. And a fabulous cook.

  And right now, he teased and tempted her to want more of what only he could give.

  “Mmm,” he growled low in his throat. “I missed these this morning. How is that possible?”

  She gasped as his fingers toyed with the top of her sheer thigh-high stockings and then stroked back and forth from thigh to almost-bare backside. Before she could answer his question, his lips left hers, nibbled along her jaw and down to a certain spot on her neck. And that tender bit of flesh made her pant and hang on the edge of orgasm whenever he marked her there.

  And just as the thought passed through her head, his teeth gently clamped down and he sucked right where she wanted it most.

  “Oh my god.”

  Back arched, hips twitched, and ass clenched as he nibbled. Temperature ratcheted up as she felt his growing erection nudge her bottom cheeks.

  Fingers tightened in her hair as he bit down again, harder this time. Then came a brush against the underside of a sensitive breast. Eyes flew open then fluttered closed as she tried to catch suddenly out-of-control breathing.

  Teeth again met the tendon between neck and shoulder. At Mac’s squeak, she tensed. Holy crap, she’d forgotten about her staff!

  “Landon, stop.” She really didn’t want him to, but if she didn’t speak now, it would soon become impossible to form words. “Jolene is...”

  “Gone to lunch,” he whispered against the shell of her ear. “A few of your engineers are in their offices on the other side of the building. Nobody over here but us.” In between kisses as he made his way to her throat and then back to her lips again. “And your door is locked. As long as you don’t scream, we’re good.”

  “Then don’t make me scream,” she demanded. Or at least she tried to sound demanding. It kind of came out all horny and desperate, but who was complaining?

  “I canna make that promise, love. I’m tempted tae spank that beautiful arse of yours just tae watch ye squirm with pleasure. Lucky for you, the sound of the impact is too loud and someone would surely come a-runnin’.”

  She loved how his accent thickened when he was turned on, or riled up. Nothing said sexy quite like a black-haired Irishman, down to the red and gold clan crest inked onto his right shoulder, which she occasionally, and very purposely, licked.

  * * *

  Reaching down, he pulled off one of her pumps. The moment Mac heard the thud of the shoe as it hit the thick carpet, she positioned the other foot for easy access.

  Next, hands traveled from calf, to knee to thigh. Then further beneath her flippy skirt until he reached her underwear. Or what there was of them.

  “Oooh,” he sighed into her mouth as he pressed kiss after kiss to her tingling lips. “Not much to these, is there, darlin’? Your entire arse cheek is hangin’ out, yes?” Blunt nails rasped lightly over said arse, sending a wicked tremor up the nerves from her tailbone to mid-spine.

  “Oh yes. Definitely yes,” she gasped.

  He gave a smack to the flesh and then rubbed away the slight sting. Mac moaned. So he did it again.

  “Not enough noise to cause a ruckus, but enough of a smack for ye to remember I was here.”

  She’d always loved a little edge with her love play. And Landon knew his way around her body and could strum it like the finest instrument.

  “Ah,” he said, as if he’d had an epiphany. “I know just what ye need, darlin’. Stand up.” He helped her off of the loveseat, then moved to pull one of the comfy chairs away from the table she used for consulting.

  “Come to me and turn around to face the table.”

  She did as she was asked and then waited. There was the slight rustle of fabric as he sat down behind her, and then Mac felt her husband’s gaze sear from head down to her now-bare feet, scorching nerve endings as it went.

  By the time he spoke another word, she was a trembling, damn-near-on-fire piece of woman.

  “MacKenzie Ivers, you’re such a beauty. Now, drop the knickers. Leave the skirt.”

  Already wet, she imagined him grinning as she peeled the scrap of lace down her legs and off.

  Then a firm touch eased from knees, up the front of her thighs, taking her flippy skirt with it as it went. She tightened her butt cheeks in response to the zing that traveled across it when her man gently raked his nails across her that sensitive skin. Another light smack made her gut dance around beneath the skin.

  “Relax,” Landon demanded and smacked her ass again. “No butt clenching unless you’re about to come.”

  “Keep that up and that’s exactly what I’ll be doing.”

  He chuckled, eased her around and then lifted her onto the conference table. Mac was sure she’d never see consulting at this table the same way again. Landon harrumphed and mumbled something about the angle not being quite right. Next thing she knew, the man had flipped her over to her back, then scooted her to the edge of the table until her ass was just barely on the highly polished wood.

  Giving her no time to adjust to the literal flip of the script, Landon’s knees hit the floor. A single warm digit eased into her moist heat, moved in and out in a strong rhythm as his tongue explored the folds of her sex.

  Another finger joined in and his focus changed to the little bundle of nerves at her center. She wrapped her legs around his head and ground her hips frantically. She’d gone from curious to needy, wanton and unashamed in six seconds flat. And he had her exactly where he wanted her, of that there was no doubt.

  “Yes. Oh my god, yes,” she panted. Then lips and talented tongue worked over her clit. Mac arched against the table and moaned loudly before remembering to jam a fist in her mouth to stifle the sound. She buried the other hand in her own hair as if she were trying to keep her mind firmly anchored in her head.

  But fate decreed that she would indeed lose her mind this afternoon, because when Landon hummed his appreciation at her open expression of pleasure, Mac’s orgasm flew out of left field and smacked her in the head with its intensity.

  “Oh! Oh my...ohmygod!”

  She clamped her lips closed and bit down on the inside of her cheek to stifle her scream, but it did nothing to help her control the trembling of her thighs, or the clenching of her stomach muscles as Landon pushed her into, and through, her climax.

  On the heels of the first mind-blowing orgasm, came a second.

  By the time the lovers left Mac’s office and headed home, she was a puddle of satisfied woman with knees that felt as if they were made of jelly.

  And there was only one thing that would have made her happier—to dispel the ghosts in her husband’s eyes. And today, that fucking phantom had come riding into The Twilight Teahouse.

  One more visit from that particular Casper, and she might just have to play dirty. Because for Landon Ivers, she’d play as dirty as was required to protect him.

  Chapter Four

  The last few days had flown by, spent in meetings with Mac and her staff as they hashed out the details for the new project. The contract negotiations had gone well and with a few more tweaks to the requirements for the new eco-resort, the final pieces would be in place to wrap it up.

  They’d gotten quite a lot of work done in a relatively short period, and Jay knew that it was almost time to return home.

  Home. Huh. Thinking on his bare-bones place in Helena, Montana, the word “home” didn’t come to mind. It was just a place to eat, work and sleep. Nothing more.

  Tonight, he would celebrate a job well done, probably alone, and featuring more room service. But before he left town, a trip to Twilight Teahouse was on his to-do list, as well as a heart-to-heart with Mac.

  After a quick shower and a bite of lunch—god bless spectacular room service—Jay powered up his laptop and began to work on what he hoped was the final iteration o
f requirements for the project Mac had agreed to work on with him.

  The trill of his mobile device startled him. Jay jerked his gaze toward the plush drapes that opened to a balcony facing Puget Sound. Surprised to discover that the sun had long since set, he reached for the still-ringing device and the hotel menu at the same time.

  Flipping to the wine selection page, he answered the phone. “This is Jay.”

  “Hello, Jay. It’s so nice to talk to you. It’s been a long time. Are you busy?”

  “Who is this?” he asked. The voice sounded somewhat familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.

  “My name is Ms. Ross. I thought I saw you in Seattle earlier today. You’ve been away awhile.”

  “Uh...okay? What can I do for you Ms. Ross?” Ms. Ross? Name sounded familiar

  “I used to see you at Twilight Teahouse when I lived in Seattle. I was, um, involved with...” she trailed off.

  Then the light bulb went on in his mind, and with it came a strong sense of unease.

  “Hey, I remember you now. You were Landon Ivers’ submissive for a time. How did you know I was here?”

  “As I said, I thought I saw you today. I’m in town on business and could have sworn I saw you in the airport. Just thought I’d say hello and all. If you’re going to be around, maybe we can do some pick up play or something.”

  It was bad enough he’d never heard tell of her in the two years since he’d been out of the scene, but for her to just happen to “see” him? Jay didn’t think so. Not to mention he’d been nowhere near the airport today. He had, however, been over at Mac’s office.

  The hair on the back of Jay’s neck stood on end. What the hell was this woman up to?

  And if she thought he didn’t know who the fuck she was, this chick was mistaken. This woman was the one who’d hurt Mac so deeply. And Jay didn’t betray his friends. Period.

  “So how are things? What brings you to town?” Ms. Ross asked.

  Being a fairly private person, Jay simply said, “Just business. And you?”

  “The same. I landed a part in a movie about BDSM and the film crew is here doing some research. We’ll be headed home to Los Angeles in a few days. By the way, how is that beautiful MacKenzie Ivers? Have you seen her since you’ve been in town? I’d like to say hello to her. I hope she’s forgiven me for all the...you know.”

  The woman’s words trailed off as if she’d forgotten what she was saying rather than out of any embarrassment for the “you know”.

  “No, I haven’t seen her on a personal level. She’s back together with her husband.”

  No response. Jay’s brow dove down into a fierce frown as the immediate silence on the other end of the line told him everything he needed to know. The lightbulb that had snapped on inside his head flared even brighter as the silence continued. Blood pounded in his ears and the calm, controlled face he showed to the world morphed into a mask of anger as the fury he kept tightly leashed slipped free for a moment.

  “You knew didn’t you? You knew they were remarried!”

  “So what,” she snapped. All semblance of class and seduction disappeared in a blink and this particular female tiger was now showing her claws. “Doesn’t mean I’m not interested in gaining MacKenzie’s forgiveness.”

  But there was no sincerity in either word or tone. All Jay heard was anger, sarcasm and downright nastiness. And this particular “nasty” was not on his to-do list.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Jay knew this woman had no intention of playing nicely with others, whether she was in town on business for only a few days or not. “Mac is an honorable woman, you idiot. She doesn’t deserve your bullshit. Never did.” Jay bit his lip as he cut himself off mid-rant and slammed the phone down on the top of the solid wood chest of drawers.

  He didn’t even flinch at the unmistakable crack of glass. Hands balled into tight fists, he literally snarled as he raked his fingers through his hair and pulled. After a ten-count and a few deep breaths, he picked up the phone, almost amazed that the call was still connected.

  “Listen, Ms. Ross,” said with a disdain he didn’t bother to conceal. “There’s a reason she let me go in the first place—her husband. She is devoted to him, no matter what. And he, to her. So whatever the hell you’re planning—”

  “Shut. Up.” The malevolent energy of the voice fairly crackled the air around him. “If you listen to what I have to say, you’ll get what you want and I’ll get what I want. One way or another, I’m going to have it. The question is, do you have what it takes to get what you really want?”

  He didn’t have to think long or hard. There wasn’t another woman in the world like MacKenzie Ivers. “Fuck. You.”

  The line disconnected without so much as a good bye, fuck off, dog kiss my ass, or anything else. Fine with him.

  A few moments later, he picked up the phone again and dialed.

  * * *

  Jay was relieved when she answered on the first ring and he wasted no time telling her what Yazmin Ross had done only moments before.

  “This Yazmin bitch is nuts. I had to tell you what she’s up to. I still can’t believe she tried to...I mean, hell, what was she even thinking? She doesn’t even know me, yet she called me and tried to go on a fishing expedition for information on you and Landon.

  “Mac, I came here because you’re the best person for the job, and your friend, Burton Khrys, is the best one to execute the construction of it. Neither I, nor my client in Montana, have the expertise and I respect your professional opinion. So here I am, in Seattle. I’m not trying to get over on you or anything. I hope you know that.”

  Jay shook his head and huffed out an exasperated breath. “As for Ms. Ross, well, I guess it’s good to know we’re not running low on crazy.”

  Mac burst out laughing.

  When her laughter waned, Jay asked, “Mac, can we be frank?”

  “Always, handsome.” He blushed and then lay his heart out on a platter for her.

  “I know you ended our relationship so you could concentrate on getting yourself together during your divorce. I respect you for that. But we were play partners before you and Landon fell apart. Now that you’re back together, are you two still part of the lifestyle?”

  “We are, but we’re taking it slow.”

  “I miss you, Mac.”

  He heard the smile in her voice as she wistfully said, “I miss you, too.”

  The knot he hadn’t realized was lodged in his chest began to unravel just a bit. He took a breath and tread out into the deepest ocean of his longing and hoped she would meet him there. “Believe it or not, I miss Landon as well. He always made me feel welcome. I won’t lie about how I feel about you. I love you as much today as I did two years ago. At the risk of sounding cliché, I must also admit that I love so much that all I want is your happiness, even if that means we’ll never be involved again. And while this may sound self-deprecating, if there’s any room in your life for me, I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

  It didn’t matter that they’d never had sex—it had been negotiated and agreed upon before they’d ever played together. It didn’t change the fact that this woman was everything he’d ever wanted. The perfect mix of dominant and submissive—dominant to Jay and submissive to her husband. The woman’s expertise with floggers and body work had Jay practically shaking with need at the memories of her hands on his body. The way she used to get into his head. Gave him what was needed just when he’d needed it...and sometimes when he hadn’t known what that need was, she’d still managed to read him and deliver.

  Not to mention, the woman was fucking hot.

  Caramel skin glowed with vitality. Dark brown lashes framed even darker eyes that twinkled with happiness and a hint of mischief. Super-small, finely cultivated deadlocks, shiny with health, hung down her back to tease the curve of her spine. Flawless skin and high cheekbones were enhanced by nothing. Usually, the only cosmetics on her lovely face was a bit of eyeliner and a light sheen of gloss
. She was, in truth, a natural beauty to Jay.

  Average height for a woman, Mac carried more-than-average curves with style and grace. A self-declared shoe whore, the woman’s collection of super-high heels was second to none. And when she wore a pair of stiletto or platform boots, she owned them. Hell, owned him, body and soul.

  “Jay, I hadn’t expected this. Any of it. Not from Yazmin. And not from you.”

  “It’s okay if you don’t—”

  “No, Jay, that’s not where I’m going with this. Let me finish, handsome.”

  He almost smiled, because even though they were on the phone, he knew exactly what she was doing—waiting a moment to be sure she had his attention. It amazed him how well he knew her, and how he still reacted to the no-nonsense, but not quite bitchy, tone of voice—Mac saved the “bitchy” for when it was truly needed. No other woman made him want to kneel at her feet, give her the world.

  “And stop holding your breath, Jay.”

  It was Jay’s turn to laugh out loud. Guess he wasn’t the only one who still remembered.

  * * *

  Jolene strode into Mac’s office and pushed a piece of paper directly under her nose. Mac read it quickly, looked up and tilted her head in question.

  “That’s all he said, Mac. You were in a meeting so I told him I’d bring it in personally as soon as you were done.”

  The request was short, and as far from sweet as East was from West. She read it again and frowned. The words, “get over here, Mac, right now,” had her hauling ass.

  Her gut danced around beneath the skin with the feeling of impending doom...and Mac did doom as often as she did drama…which was never, if she could help it. Forty minutes later, she parked her car in the nearest spot outside and flew toward Twilight Teahouse with her heart racing as if she’d run a quarter mile in her heels.

  She rounded the corner at the back of the steel and glass building and doom morphed into pure alarm. Rushing past a police cruiser that flashed blue and red lights, tension filled the space between her shoulder blades. Men in blue spoke with a fuming Madison Lee and a perplexed, angry Landon.