by Cynthia Dane
Love.
Love in my ass.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I don’t kid, sweet. Though I do need you to relax so I can fuck your brains out.”
Is he making love to me or…
Pleasure – and pain – kills me as the tip of my Dom’s cock slowly inches into my ass.
He’s holding me apart with his hands, the lube he used barely enough to give him the slickness he needs to make this work. Meanwhile, I’m trying not to panic, because nobody has ever fucked me in the ass before and I have no idea what the hell to expect.
I hope it’s good.
“Pink,” I whimper, forcing my body to relax. Mind over matter, Kathryn. You can handle this man spanking you with a crop, you can handle him shoving his cock in your ass.
“I know, baby.” Ian is doing an admirable job holding in his groans. “We’re almost there. You feel fantastic.”
I wish I could say the same about him. I don’t know what to think about it yet. All I know is that my ass is being stretched to its limits, my body fighting the intrusion while the rest of me begs it to shut the fuck up.
Within ten seconds, Ian pulls out, leaving the smallest gape. As more lube hits my skin, all I can do is heave heavy breaths into the bedspread and tell myself that this is worth it.
“You’re doing great,” Ian encourages me. His hand caresses my ass, and at first I think he’s going to spank me. Yet I’m pleasantly surprised by his gentle touch. As he kisses my back and eases me open again, he says, “I know you can do it, Katie.”
What is the point of this? Other than being able to say that he actually fucked me in the ass? That’s probably it. Not that I can overly care at this point, because I’m moaning too loudly to parse any of my thoughts.
This time it’s easier for him to push into me. My body stretches all over. Not just my ass – although that’s probably the greatest example of it – but the length of my form, stretching from one end of the bed to the other as I press myself down, ready to be pierced by my…
Boyfriend.
Dom.
Master.
I guess he really is right now. Only my Master could do this to me. Only a man able to call himself my Dom, my Master would have permission to take my ass for his own pleasure.
“Fuck, that’s tight.” I don’t know how, considering I’m trying to relax as much as possible. Not easy, let me tell you. My ass isn’t used to this kind of treatment. It doesn’t know how to take a dick and like it. I guess there are still some parts of my body that are nothing but delicate flowers. Bud my ass.
Literally.
“Ian…” I only now realize that I’m clutching this comforter for dear life. How can I not, when I’m struggling so fucking much to do something that I’m not sure nature ever intended. Especially with that fucking head of his being so damn large and intrusive. I have a hard enough time taking it in my pussy sometimes. In my ass? Good golly gee, let me turn myself inside out for you, Ian.
“Does it feel good? Because I’m…”
I don’t listen. I’m too busy moaning, because Ian has finally broken the head of his cock in, the rest of him slipping in as if it’s nothing.
Oh, it’s not nothing. It’s everything.
He slides out. Back in. Out. In.
Every time I maintain more elasticity. The man is fucking my ass. Like, actually fucking my ass wide open, making me take every inch of him as far as I can, as deep as I dare.
I’m dying. It feels so good.
Yeah, it hurts. God, does it hurt a little, but it’s that same sort of biting pain that makes spanking and nipple pinching feel good. It’s the sense of Ian Mathers claiming my body for his own pleasure. It’s me giving up control, giving up my body, giving up everything that makes me Kathryn Alison, Domme at large.
Because I’m pretty sure most Dommes don’t get fucked in the ass by a Dom – and love it.
“That’s it.” He clutches my hand, slowly upping the speed of his thrusts. He doesn’t dare go as quickly as he does in my cunt, and for good reason, but I don’t care. This is fine. This is more than fine.
This is a slice of ecstasy I have definitely never felt before.
“Katie…”
I love hearing him come undone. I love the idea that my body is so hot and precious that he can’t contain himself. It’s the ultimate complimenting high. I want to hear him sing my praises all day, all night, for all eternity.
Right now I’ll settle for him fucking my ass and groaning in my ear.
His hips hit my flesh with every thrust. I feel his sack strike me again and again, a new kind of spank that makes my eyes flutter shut. This is a new kind of fullness I never thought I would experience.
Fuck me, it’s the kind of experience I could only have with him.
One second I’m trapped on this bed, a man taking my ass and making sure I know that I belong to him, every part of my body. Then the next I’m overcome with both sensations and emotions. My body hurts, but at the same time it feels good – fuck it, I’m climaxing. Again. This time from the pure, raw strokes of Ian Mathers entering me like this.
“Ian!” I always forget to call him whatever name he wants to be called when I’m having an orgasm. Let’s be fair, it’s easy to forget the bullshit when your brain feels like it’s shooting out your ear and making a break for paradise.
His thrusts increase, prolonging my orgasm. Between my pleasure and pain, I feel him pulse within me, and I know without a doubt that I’m about to be claimed.
My hair pulls against my scalp, piercing my skin with pain that makes me cry through my orgasm. God, I love it. The ravishing, the movements of the man behind me, and most of all, the sensations of the whole world crashing down on me as Ian starts to climax inside of me for the second time today.
Not even in the same place.
It’s harder to feel back there. I feel warmth, but I mostly feel the fullness. Even after he pulls out, letting my hips drop to the bed, I still don’t feel much beyond my own selfish relief.
Uh oh. There it is.
“Shit, that’s hot.” Great choice of words, Ian. Woo this woman after you’ve fucked her ass. “Wish you could see it, Katie.”
“I’m good, thanks.” The first thing I do once I have my bearings again is rip off my collar. I’m due my one to two hours by now, and there’s nothing Ian can say to change my mind.
He kisses my throat where the collar once was. “You’re wonderful, you know that?”
The bed shakes as he rolls onto his side and gazes at me with… I dunno. Adoration? I barely believe it.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” I’m afraid to move.
Ian picks up my collar and examines it in the light. “Have you enjoyed yourself so far?”
What a question to ask now. “If you mean enjoyed the sex… well, yeah.”
“That’s not all I mean, and you know that.”
I meet his gaze from a few inches away. “Yes, I have enjoyed being your sub.”
That gets me a kiss on the cheek and rubs on the back. I hope for more. More kisses, more hugging, more cuddling. Except we’re both messy, and Ian is getting up, claiming he has first dibs on the bathroom. Fuck him. I’ll use the guest bathroom.
As he moves through the bedroom, I roll over to face him…
…And to flip him off like a mature adult.
“What the hell is that for?” he asks, standing in the bathroom doorway.
“I dunno. I’m sure you deserved it for something.” Before he can disappear behind a locked door, I continue, “It’s the principle of the thing.”
“Your insolence is noted.”
I stare down that look in his eye. He relents, going to the bathroom and leaving me alone.
Now it’s my turn to pick up my collar and gaze at the shining diamonds. Such a simple piece of jewelry that means so much.
I want to throw it across the room. I wan
t to hold it to my chest. I want to put it back on.
The war in my mind continues to rage, and I’m not sure why.
Chapter 11
IAN
We’re in The Dark Hour. Together.
Together.
No, not sexually, as much as I would love to see Kathryn pull a Stephanie May and suck my cock in front of everyone. She’s never going to do that.
We’re here, though. We’re on a date, even if other people don’t know that. Tonight is the last night of my darling’s training, and I fully intend on going as far as I can with her here.
“I’m not sure I can…” Kathryn hangs near the door of the coat check. We’re the only ones in here, aside from the woman behind the counter, matching up tickets and doing her best to ignore us. “I mean… people out there know us, Ian.”
She’s dressed to kill in a black number that hugs her curves and accentuates the fairness of her hair and skin. She’s dressed up the collar with another necklace dangling in her cleavage, trying to throw off anyone’s scent regarding what we’re up to. I wish she would settle the hell down. Kathryn is beautiful, and she should know it.
“You will be fine,” I say, clasping my hands on her shoulders. After tilting her head up, I look her in the eye, smiling, reassuring. “Be yourself. I’m not asking you to be anyone other than who you are tonight.”
She vehemently points to the collar.
“Babe, it’s fine. I’m not going to ask you to do anything sexual. You don’t even have to touch me tonight.”
“Then what is the point of this?” Kathryn looks about ready to rip off her collar.
“To remind you of your role tonight. I want you to be yourself so we can protect your image, but you’re still my sub. All you need to do is follow my commands. Nothing sexual. Do you understand? We’re here to relax and have fun.”
She snorts as if she doesn’t believe me.
Someone comes into the coat check. I step back, putting distance between us and acting as if we truly are our cover – two workmates out to shake the stress. Not like that.
“Well if it isn’t the devil himself.”
James extends his hand to shake mine as girlfriend Gwen takes their coats up to the counter. When James turns to Kathryn, however, he meets an uncommon sight.
“Fancy seeing you here as well, Ms. Alison,” he says. I don’t think he and Kathryn have met much before. “Here together, or…?”
I wait until Gwen has joined us before answering. “Kathryn and I have been working nonstop on The Grand project, as you know. We decided this was a good place to get some drinks and unwind. And who knows?” I wink at James, then Gwen. “Maybe there are some nice subs running around here.” What? Just because I’m going steady with Kathryn doesn’t mean no eye candy for either of us.
“Why don’t you join us for drinks? Gwen and I have no plans other than taking in the sights and maybe having some… well, you know.”
God love this place, it’s always about sex.
We head out as a foursome, which is in Kathryn’s favor, as it throws off anyone wondering if we’re here as a couple. Why wonder that when we walk through the main door with two other people? Besides, people know we’re working together. We’re all over the news when it’s a slow day. Not to mention whatever the Andrews are blabbing.
There’s an empty table to the side of the room where we sit and enjoy more than one glass of whatever we feel like having. I order Katie and me a couple of Old Fashioneds. She’s sitting next to me on the same couch, but we’re distant, her legs crossed toward me but my hands respectfully away from her.
I don’t want it to be this way. I want it to be like at the Château, where I threw my arm around her and kissed her in front of everyone.
I want everyone to know that she’s mine. Maybe not my sub, but at least my girlfriend. What man wouldn’t be proud to call a woman like her his girlfriend? Look at her! Listen to her! For fuck’s sake, smell her perfume! A woman with that much good taste deserves to be in a quality relationship.
If only it could be me for years to come.
James repeats something that I missed, lost in my thoughts as I am. Kathryn makes a quip to Gwen, and you would never guess this was anything more than four people sharing an evening.
It’s Saturday night, meaning the club quickly fills up. When clubs fill up, it means even VIP guests have difficulty finding an empty place to sit. Not that many come here to not at least chat for a while… before they go have their fun with their dates or the people they pick up.
“These seats taken?” Someone leans over the back of James and Gwen’s couch, extending his hand for a quick shake. “This place is getting packed, and I have yet to see some ass on that stage.”
Laughter covers the table as we are joined by Henry Warren and Monica Graham, two people I never expected to join the likes of me, but fuck it, Henry and James are known buddies. It’s not that I don’t know Henry Warren, I simply haven’t done much business with him outside of what my father delegates to me. Like getting money for The Grand.
The couple shares a couch with James and Gwen. Without being told to, Monica orders drinks from a server. It’s not assertive. She’s the type of woman to take a server to the side, whisper her order, and then rejoin her Dom, content with the service rendered. In fact, she’s looking pretty smug as she perches on the edge of Henry’s lap, and I can’t blame her. Especially with a rock like that twinkling on her hand.
I look at Kathryn’s hand. She’s not wearing any rings. For a half-hearted minute I consider buying her a ring. Not an engagement ring, hell no. A simple thing she can wear on any finger and be reminded of me when she looks down. Something to wear aside from the collar…
…Which she touches now, looking at Monica, who wears an understated collar to go with her outfit. I’ve seen her real one. A huge gaudy thing made of silver and diamonds. Not very practical on common nights out. Not that they’re the most practical couple around.
Kathryn and Monica exchange looks. I’m caught in between. The woman knows from the Château that Kathryn and I are at least an item. What she doesn’t know, however, is that Kathryn is acting as my sub.
Or at least until now. Because I am under no delusion that Monica doesn’t know now. She won’t stop gazing at Kathryn or the inconspicuous collar around her neck. I know we’re fucked when she looks at me with that knowing smile.
Thankfully, she doesn’t lean in to Henry’s ear. She would never. She wants to stay on our good side. I don’t know what it means, though.
More drinks are poured. Kathryn especially downs hers quickly, and I feel weird asking her to top off my drink before Monica has the chance. Nobody pays Katie any mind as she serves me drinks.
“You okay?” I whisper, as James and Henry are distracted by a mutual friend.
She shrugs. “I’ve been worse…”
Yes, and things are about to get even worse.
Because what is a party without the Andrews showing up to fuck with shit.
Shouts of greetings go up, and even I’m caught up in the fray as Lana and Ken practically shove Kathryn into my lap so they can share our couch. That wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the look of horror crossing my poor Katie’s face.
I wrap my arm around her anyway. This place is getting so packed that hardly anyone would notice us being cozy anyway. Or at least I hope.
“Do they have to be here?” she asks.
I pat her shoulder. “Do you want to go?”
Shock covers her complexion. “And be seen leaving together?”
We look over in time to see Henry and Monica eyeing us suspiciously.
I don’t fear that anyone here is going to out us as a couple. Not to mention, I have nothing to lose from people deducing that Kathryn is not only my girlfriend, but my sub. Yeah, I have nothing to lose. I am fully aware that Kathryn has a reputation to protect, especially in this club. She’s not an established switch lik
e Lana Andrews is, and full-time Dommes can be… a freakish bunch.
Now, now, don’t get on my ass. I don’t mean that they’re freaks. God knows this planet needs a healthy crop of Dommes running around putting men – and some women, if you’re related to Henry Warren – in their places. But they have a lot to prove and don’t have time to deal with women who aren’t committed to the lifestyle. I’ve seen Kathryn in this club with Domme friends. I don’t doubt she does business with them. If any of them see her acting submissive toward me, well… I don’t know what would happen, but it probably wouldn’t be good, and she would probably blame me for it.
I don’t know what our end game here is anymore. When I imagined bringing my love here, I saw us relaxing alone – maybe chatting to a couple of people, but mostly alone – taking in a show, or perhaps escaping to a back room when nobody is looking. They’ve got toys here that I don’t, and I think Kathryn might like them.
This is our last night like this. I want to make the most of it.
Instead, we’re hanging out with a bunch of kinkster couples and trying not to look too much like a couple. Kathryn sure as hell isn’t relaxing against me. Too bad. I would really love a snuggle.
“How are the renovations coming?” Ken asks after his second drink. He has to yell to be heard over the rabble of the busy club on a Saturday night. “When does the hotel open again?”
“Six weeks!” My voice is going to die at this rate.
“Six weeks?” James laughs on the other side of the table. “This has to be the fastest remodel and business opening in history.”
“You’d think so, right?” These people also knew the answer to that question. Invitations for the opening night ball went out a month ago.
Lana sends a wicked smile in my direction. “Maybe you guys should get some great entertainment for the ball. Like this shit about to go on stage.”
I haven’t even looked at the stage in thirty minutes. It was closed off and empty for so long that it didn’t seem pertinent to strain my vision. Now that I’m looking, I see a Domme dressed in a black corset and knee-high boots. She’s got a whip in her hand and black makeup all over her face.