by Lucian Bane
Presenting
Dom Wars
Round Six: The Final Round
By Lucian Bane and Aden Lowe
© 2014 by Lucian Bane & Aden Lowe
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Author’s Notes:
This series contains explicit scenes of sexual activity. There are scenes of BDSM (kink) activity that may not be for everyone.
Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, by any of the characters within is entirely accidental.
Finally, I genuinely hope you enjoy reading “Dom Wars” as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Chapter One
This was it. The final fucking round, holy shit. Round six was here and I hated how it was a burning crossroad wanting to devour my soul at any second.
And oddly, the one thing that plagued my mind as I lay awake next to Tara in the wee final hours before departure wasn’t if we’d win or lose. It was nightmarish thoughts of life in prison. Because deep in my gut this absolute knowing churned, some base instinct to warn that something bad was coming. And it had everything to do with Jase Duff. What if that sadistic bastard did something to make me kill him?
Foreign mumbling outside the bedroom said I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. Judging by the sharp rise, fall, and drag of syllables, it was the Japanese couple. Couldn’t begin to remember names even though Preacher had said we needed to memorize everything about all of them. I got the point of it, any tiny detail could be the difference between winning and losing. Problem was, my mind was so full of other shit, there was no room for trivial facts about our opponents. Preacher could recite them all like a nursery rhyme. God was I glad he was on our side. It was the one thing that allowed me to breathe a tiny bit easier. If preparation made the slightest difference, he would come out on top.
The crack at the bottom of the bedroom door lit up. Preacher was up too? Just as suddenly, the light shut off. I waited in the silence until all was quiet again. It started out faint then slowly grew louder until my dick throbbed in response to the sounds of Preacher getting busy. Really busy, Jesus Christ, really busy. Didn’t he care about the entire world hearing her screaming?
“What?” Tara mumbled, getting up on her elbows, looking around.
“No shit,” I whispered, “do you hear that?”
She stared a moment. “Is that…oh my God, you’re kidding.”
My cock jerked with the need to hear Tara make those same sounds, dear God. But she’d be pissed if I said a word. She did not like, no, she hated when I got aroused in connection to another woman no matter the reason.
I got up.
“Where are you going?”
I hurried to the bathroom door, running from the suspicion in her tone. “The bathroom.”
“Why?” Accusation bit in her tone.
“To piss baby, is that okay?” I shut the door and went to the toilet. I did need to piss. My dick was hard as a rock and needed a lot more than that. The door opened and I jerked around. “Hey, almost done.”
She stood next to me while I pissed looking down. “Why are you hard?”
“What? I’m always hard.”
“No you’re not always hard,” She clearly fought her anger.
“I am when I wake up, yes I am.”
“Or when you’re hearing another woman have sex?”
I couldn’t keep from laughing. “Never.”
“Oh really.” She nodded, her hand on her hip as I finished up. “I really don’t get what’s so funny.”
“You’re so funny,” I went to the sink and turned it on and proceeded to wash my hands.
“Me.” She leaned a hip on the counter.
“Yes, you, sweetheart. Soooo damn funny.” I wiped my hands along the front of my underwear, cupping my hard on, watching her jaw harden. “Do you really think there is a time I’m not ready to fuck you? Make you scream?”
“Like her? And stop that stupid grinning.” She crossed her arms, drawing my attention to her lack of clothes.
“Who’s the Dom here again?”
I glanced up when she didn’t answer.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” I lowered the front of my underwear, “who is in charge right now. Right here. In this bathroom?”
She held my gaze only briefly before deciding she’d better exit.
“I asked you a question.” I shut the bathroom door before she got to it. “Quite nicely.”
“Nobody’s in charge, move.”
“Oh no, somebody is in charge and if I move, that would be you, if I don’t…” I tapped my chest and nodded, “then that would be me. And I think that’s a good idea seeing as you’ve lost your little mind in the final phase of the game. I mean how can you stand there and look at me like you doubt how much I fucking love you? It’s insulting, Tara. Oh yeah, roll your eyes,” I pointed at her face, “but you know I’m right, I can see it.”
“What you see is me tired and ready to go back to bed and dream about life before Dom Wars….” Pain hardened my jaw and she rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, are you sure?”
“Yes I’m sure, you know that,” she shrilled quietly.
I nodded in absent fury. “Like you know my cock is hard for you and no other?”
She jutted her stubborn chin, huffing lightly. “Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“What do you mean yes what? Yes sir? Yes master?”
“Yes, you know what?”
“Yes, I know what you said.”
“That my cock is only hard for you.”
She rolled her eyes and growled.
“Say it.”
“I’m not saying it, that’s stupid.”
“Fine, then show me.”
“Show you,” she mumbled, sounding bored.
“Show me you know Tara, I swear to God I’m fucking pissed, I’m ready to throw this game.”
Her jaw dropped.
“Don’t seem so shocked, I’ve had enough of your snobby attitude, I mean how we made it to the final round of Dom Wars astounds me with your flawless inability to submit to a goddamn thing.”
Her eyes popped. “Submit?” She took a step toward me, anger darkening her eyes. “I don’t submit to assholes who get a hard on when other women are screaming in orgasm, you prick!”
I grabbed her hand before she could hit me, amazed that she would be so pissed over that fucking bullshit! I spun her around and pushed her against the wall, my mouth at her ear and my ever-fucking-hard-cock pressing into her ever-fucking-succulent-ass. Suddenly the idea or realization that I was about to spend an unknown amount of time unable to have her hit me with sickening intensity.
“I don’t want to fight, please.” I clenched my eyes tight, swallowing past the wave of nausea.
&nbs
p; Her muscles went taut with threat. “Tell that to the floor when you are eating it. Let me go. Now.” The delicious little growl tempted my tongue along her throat.
I pinned her tighter with my body, my knee between her legs. “I’ll gladly eat the floor after I eat your pussy.” I gasped the words in her ear, pressing my leg into the juncture of her thighs. “Give me control, Tara, before I fucking take it.”
“Take it!”
The words blasted out like the desperate plea of a dying woman, and my body exploded with dominance in answer to her need to be forced. Forced to obedience, forced to that which she knew she needed but her old fears refused to allow her to submit to.
She quaked in my arms and a single tear rolled down her cheek. “Please, take it,” she whispered. “I’m so scared. Help me. Make me remember the right things.”
I couldn’t save her fast enough, couldn’t take her hard enough. My explosion of need turned me into a fucking bumbling dork as I fought to get her bent over the sink. “I need to bury my cock in you,” I growled, yanking her panties down. At seeing her bent over, I was suddenly conflicted with other needs. To hold her tight to me. “Tara,” I whispered.
She turned around and dropped to her knees, wrecking my already thread-bare control as she devoured my length.
“Fuck, stop, STOP.”
She obeyed and stared up at me with that eager longing. “Submit to my lead.” The winded words rushed out. “Get on your knees… like a good girl… and hold your hands tightly behind your back while I fuck your beautiful mouth, is it clear?” I groaned at how fucking sexy she was in that complete, eager submission. “God yes, look at you. So ready for my cock to hit the back of your throat.” I gently moved the hair from her forehead, my fingers trembling with the need to not go slow.
She licked her parted lips and lowered her gaze to my impossibly hard cock, letting out a small whimper as she stared at it.
“Keep those hands tight behind your back,” I barely managed, stepping closer. Holding my cock with one hand, I grabbed a handful of her hair with the other. Tilting her head back, I shuddered and rubbed the length of my cock along every inch of her beautiful face, letting my balls hit as well. My efforts filled the bathroom with her desperate sharpened breaths.
“Who loves you sweetheart?” I rubbed the head of my cock along her lips now and her tongue flicked across the head like fire.
“You do.”
She met my gaze and I restrained her so that only her tongue reached my pulsing head. “Me?” I pulled her hair more until she gasped.
“You… Master.”
My breath blasted out with desire at hearing the whimpered words. Master wasn’t the right response, but her sweet attempt burned me too thoroughly to care. “Very fucking good, love.” I kept tight hold of her hair and slid the head of my cock along her lips, wetting them with my pre-cum, her tiny whimpers fueling my dominance until I growled with it. “Apologize for daring to think any different.”
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, licking the head all around.
I pulled her hair harder.
“Master! I’m sorry Master.”
I spanked the side of her face with the length of my cock. “That was so very bad, love.” I spanked again and held her head firmly when she fought to turn her lips to suck me. “Kiss the length of my cock. Slowly.”
She obeyed, her breaths mingling with moans.
“You want the head of my cock to hit your throat?”
“Yes, yes.”
The fragile words and nod of her head speared my cock with fire. “Open wide baby.” I slid my cock in. “Look at me,” I hissed.
She opened her eyes, her nostrils fluttering as my cock slowly went deep.
“God your fucking mouth is so hot around my cock!” I pushed until the head hit the back of her throat, groaning, maintaining tight hold of her hair. I slowly worked her on and off my cock. “So bad, you were…” I clenched my eyes shut, stopping to stave off an orgasm. “….so fucking bad,” I finally ground out. “Take off your fucking panties and hold on to the sink.”
She stumbled up and did as I said and the sight of her complete and utter submission made me drunk. The way she became this other person, so different from the strong willed woman was just…insanely fucking hot in the most unusual way. It made me…need to dominate her. It demanded me to. Dominate her without mercy, utterly and completely.
For long a moment, I just looked, absorbing every iota of the sweet triumph, the way her muscles quivered in anticipation of my touch. The curve of her ass drew my hands, and I let my fingers sink deep in her lush flesh and squeezed hard so that when I let go, the marks of my possession were pressed into her skin. So fucking beautiful.
Need insisted I bury my cock in her and never stop, contradicting my dominant instincts to exercise control. A growl vibrated in my throat as I wrestled with myself.
Tara whimpered in response and moved slightly, tilting her ass to the perfect angle for me, and suddenly the struggle was finished. I slid my cock along her, spreading moisture to her clit. She sucked in a harsh breath when I reached her pulsing gem.
When she would have rocked against me, I held her still, keeping steady pressure on her clit, until her body trembled and her breath came in desperate little cries.
Holding my own breath, I slid back to poise at her entrance with her inner lips parted to receive me. She wiggled her cute ass in an attempt to pull me inside, and I punished her impudence with a sharp smack to each lovely cheek, then slid deep in a tortuously slow drive.
Her inner muscles clenched, working along my length in a rhythmic caress that made me bite my lip hard to keep from driving hard and fast to orgasm. “Stop,” I groaned. “This isn’t over yet.”
She froze, even holding her breath, but those involuntary muscles at her core refused to be stilled. I drew back a little and quickly thrust forward and made her hiss with surprise. Changing my angle slightly for better contact, I established a rhythm that sent us both spiraling toward orgasm in a fog of harsh cries and smacking flesh.
Far too soon, the nuclear explosion at the base of my spine that began my orgasm slipped up on me, and detonation completed before I could strategize to hold off longer.
With exquisite timing, Tara’s body read the signals in mine and prompted her own explosion. Her inner muscles clenched and pulled in a frenzy that dragged every drop of pleasure from both of us, and left us heaving together, uncaring that the whole estate probably heard us both. All that mattered was having each other.
Chapter Two
Lucian squeezed my hand and gave me the little half smile he always used to reassure me. Of course he knew how nervous I was. Even though they’d given us lessons back at Gladiator estate, rappelling out of a huge helicopter was not high on my bucket list. Wasn’t on it at all, actually.
Dread rolled in my stomach, threatening to dump the protein bar I’d forced myself to eat an hour earlier. Two full days of travel-induced fatigue gnawed at my muscles, making it more likely the rappelling would end in disaster.
The big ex-special forces guy who’d trained us to rappel along with other lessons needed for this Round unhooked his safety harness and stood. “Okay, folks,” he yelled over the helicopter’s racket, “this is it. You’ll stand one at a time, I’ll check your gear. When I give the word, you go over the side. Understood?”
He waited for the interpreters to translate, then shoved the cargo door open. Lucky us, we got to go last because after Preacher bought me and Lucian, it put us in last place. I still wasn’t sure why exactly Preacher had done it, but I was grateful. We’d be done for if he hadn’t, and Gramma would be stuck in that brick sepulcher called a retirement home, forever.
At our trainer’s gesture, the German woman slash giant unclipped from the seat and rose, looking perfectly at home in all the paramilitary gear. Without waiting, she hooked her rappelling harness into the lines above us, and nodded ready. The trainer double checked her gear, adjusted a clip, then ins
pected her harness. Satisfied, he gave her the nod, and steadied her as she got in position and swung out into nothing.
My stomach gave another massive roll as her helmet disappeared from sight, shooting my pulse up another notch. Lucian rubbed his thumb across the back of my knuckles, but I hardly felt the gesture through the protective gloves. I appreciated the effort anyway and suddenly wondered if he was as nervous as me. If he was, he sure didn’t show it.
I leaned for a glance at Preacher and Becca where they sat on the other side of Lucian. I’d expected Preacher to be calm and unshakable. He was ex-military after all, so this kind of thing wasn’t exactly new to him. But the heavy scowl he wore said he was anything but relaxed. He looked pissed if I was judging correctly. With him that could be translated into nearly any other emotion, but in this case, I’d lay money on fear. Of course it would have to be for Becca’s sake. The man was too stubborn to fear anything for himself.
And Becca, on the other hand, was as calm and peaceful as always. She would be like that in the face of Armageddon, no doubt. I couldn’t decide if she was really that unflappable, or if she simply hid it well. What she’d shared of her past suggested an ability to conceal emotions would be a valuable skill.
All I knew was, Preacher’s nervousness scared the hell out of me. He wasn’t the type to get the jitters for no good reason. Maybe he didn’t agree with the trainer’s tactic and strategy. Oh, maybe he was pissed we were going out last and would put us behind. Yes, that had to be it. That probably put a serious dent in his need to plan for every possibility, since it took all the options away. Well, we’d have to hurry is all. Movement caught my attention again, and I watched as the German man prepared for his turn. Unlike his Domme, he was clearly in a state of panic. His hands shook visibly and his tanned face turned a new shade of green as he took itty bitty baby steps toward the exit. He’d been sick off and on during the stay at the Gladiator mansion, and even more so during the journey. Nerves? Illness? God, I hoped it wasn’t something contagious. That was the last thing any of us needed.
But then again, either of those was a weakness we could potentially exploit and we needed every advantage we could possibly gain. God, what had I been reduced to in the name of winning? How inhumane could I get? The memory of Gramma in that hospital bed appeared right on cue. I could probably get downright cruel, considering that memory as my motive.