John placed the paddle on the table and stood by Moira. He pushed her hair back off her face and kissed her forehead. He assisted her to her feet and they silently left the lighted area.
Marcus leaned in toward Tabitha's ear. "People do many different things. It's all consensual. There won't be any extreme scenes this evening. Mostly spankings and such. Mason does have other evenings with hardcore activities for those who are interested."
Tabitha imagined the harder action consisted of items she'd rejected in their contract. She didn't feel ready for things like that. Maybe she'd never be ready.
Tabitha admitted the paddling had been arousing. She felt the wetness between her legs. It brought back the memories of the first time Marcus had paddled her in Hawaii. Marcus though, had a completely different style. He'd been playful and loving. The affection between John and Moira was evident, but John's attitude had been serious and he certainly had a heavier hand.
Another couple approached the stage.
Marcus squeezed Tabitha's hand. "Just so you know, we're up next."
With that statement, Tabitha's mind scrambled. She barely observed the scene unfolding on the stage. The man used a crop on the woman, but over her skirt. The whole scene passed in a blur and then it was over. As the couple stepped down, Tabitha's heart raced.
Marcus stood and pulled Tabitha to her feet. She followed him up the steps, not making eye contact with anyone.
Marcus led her to the center of the platform. "Friends. Thank you for joining us this evening. I feel privileged Tabitha has placed her trust in me and agreed to be officially collared. It is the wish of most Doms to find that one person who not only calls to our body and authority, but our heart as well. For me, Tabitha is that person."
Marcus glanced at Tabitha, then once again faced the crowd. "A Dom uses many tools. His voice, his body, his hands. He uses others with the consent of his partner. That is what Tabitha is — my partner in a sensual and psychological journey."
Marcus approached the table. "These are also tools." He picked up the paddle, displayed it for the audience, then did the same for the crop. "There might be restraints." He held up a pair of cuffs. "Or even blindfolds." He ran a length of cloth through his hands and replaced it on the table. "Each is used with permission. With consent. With care."
Marcus returned to Tabitha's side. "Tabitha. Select two implements to start us off."
Tabitha walked to the table. She'd made her selections very carefully in advance. They'd discussed the possibilities. Her hand shook as she picked up the handcuffs and the paddle, both familiar. She brought them to Marcus and held them out for his inspection.
The patent leather of the cuffs reflected even in the low light. Decorative black ribbons adorned the surface and the insides were lightly padded. Two thin silver chains linked one cuff to the other, keeping them within a foot of one another. The matching paddle displayed a black ribbon on the handle, accenting its curves.
Marcus took the paddle and wrist cuffs from Tabitha and made a downward motion with his hand. Tabitha sank to her knees.
Marcus placed the paddle on the bench. He took one leather wrist cuff and unfastened it. "Hold out your hand."
Tabitha raised her wrist in the air, and Marcus fastened the cuff around her wrist snugly but not tight. She raised the other wrist and he repeated his actions. The chain between the cuffs caught the light, mesmerizing Tabitha. She'd made her choice. She was committed.
Marcus backed away and indicated Tabitha should rise. She rocked back on her heels and rose fluidly to her feet. She moved to the end of the narrow bench and leaned over. Her eyes bored into the leather surface, tracing the faint lines in the natural material.
Metal rings edged the underside of the bench and Marcus fastened the cuffs, one on each side. The angle and placement made it impossible for Tabitha to utilize the limited surface for support in her bent over position. She swallowed, stress muting her growing arousal for a moment. She inhaled, slowly releasing her breath. Her rushing heart slowed, thumping deeply in her chest.
Marcus retrieved a clothespin from the table. "I'm going to pin up your skirt to expose your ass."
Tabitha nodded. She experienced an acute awareness of self, her surging blood, her heating skin, her swelling core.
"I'm going to use three instruments on you. You selected the paddle first. You will receive ten strikes as a sign of your willingness to submit. Do you agree?"
Tabitha nodded again. "I agree to submit, Sir." Her voice was clear and sure as her nervousness decreased.
"What do you submit?"
"I submit my body to you, Sir. Please, Sir, accept the gift of my submission." The words came easily. They were a natural expression of her desire — her desire to be dominated by Marcus.
"I do." Marcus turned to the audience. "Tabitha will accept ten strikes with the paddle as a sign of her submission and her desire to be bound by the collar to me."
Marcus paddled Tabitha in an even rhythm, with little space between the strokes. The paddling was harder than what she had received before, but not as hard as what Moira had accepted.
Tabitha widened her stance slightly to improve her balance. Still, she couldn't prevent herself from jerking under the blows. Her resolve remained firm under the sharp sting.
Marcus hit each area, the top, the middle, and the side, before settling in to focus on the fleshy lower part of her asscheeks. When he finished, he rubbed the paddle over her reddened skin before returning it to the table.
Tabitha clenched her cheeks during the reprieve. Her action amplified the burning and she relaxed her muscles. She stretched her fingers, testing the cuffs. A flash of vulnerability swept through her and dissipated as she recalled his emphatic statement. Marcus stood between her and all others.
Marcus picked up the crop and caressed it with his hand. "Our second tool will be the crop. Tabitha will accept five strokes as a sign of her desire to yield. Do you agree?"
Tabitha nodded. "I agree to yield, Sir."
"What do you yield?"
"I yield my mind to you, Sir. Please, Sir, accept this yielding submissive."
"I do. Tabitha will accept five strokes with the crop as a sign of her yielding and her desire to be bound by the collar to me."
Marcus tested the crop on his palm. It had a slight give.
Tabitha tensed when she heard the slap. They had planned to use it for this special occasion, and she trusted him to wield it carefully.
Marcus brought the crop to Tabitha and rolled it over her skin, barely touching. He drew back the crop and swung it toward her. It landed with a thwack. He stepped back. A red welt rose on Tabitha's skin. "Where are we?"
That had hurt. A bit, anyway. The sting receded. "Green, Sir."
Marcus continued, landing the crop across both cheeks, but not overlapping any stripe. He tempered his strokes, each lighter than the one before it. Soon, five weals stood out.
"For our last step, Tabitha will demonstrate her need to surrender. Please bring out the selection of implements."
A man appeared onstage with a tray. He placed it on the bench in front of Tabitha.
When Tabitha raised her head, she glimpsed the objects — a leather strap, a cat 'o nine tails and a scourge.
"Tabitha will choose the instrument and accept three strikes as a sign of her need to surrender. What do you choose?"
Tabitha considered. They'd discussed the choices, but right now, none of the items seemed right. They weren't the usual toys Marcus used and she didn't anticipate they would use them much in the future. They were too impersonal. She wanted Marcus. She needed Marcus. "Sir, may I ask for your hand?"
Marcus hesitated. "If you want my hand, it will have to be more than three strikes."
"Yes, Sir."
Marcus addressed the group. "Tabitha has chosen to receive a hand spanking as a sign of her need to surrender." He returned his focus to Tabitha. "Do you agree?"
Tabitha nodded. "I agree to surrender, Sir." She
was ready for the familiarity of his hand.
"What do you surrender?"
"I surrender myself. Please, Sir, accept the gift of my surrender." Her breath rushed out.
"I do. Tabitha will accept a hand spanking as a sign of her surrender and her desire to be bound by the collar to me."
Marcus leaned toward Tabitha and wound his left arm under her. With his right hand, he smacked one ass cheek. His hand was cool against the heat of her skin. "I want you to count these out." His breath skimmed her skin, raising the delicate hairs.
"Yes, Sir. One, Sir." Tabitha's thighs parted instinctively; she pressed them back together.
Marcus slapped her ass on the other cheek. The outline of his hand appeared on her skin and faded.
"Two, Sir." Tabitha arched her back, stretching, and returned to her position.
Marcus struck her again, molding his hand to her curves.
"Three, Sir." Tabitha tightened inside and released.
He spanked her twice in quick succession and let his hand remain, resting.
"Four, Sir. Five, Sir."
Marcus rested his hand against her. "Where are we?"
Had they reached her limit? Not yet. "Green, Sir."
Marcus's palm struck her again.
Tabitha's breath rushed out. "Six, Sir."
His hand landed again and bounced off.
"Seven, Sir." Tabitha struggled to relax the muscles of her backside.
Marcus spanked her, harder.
Tabitha fidgeted. "Eight, Sir."
Marcus waited before placing one hard smack on each cheek, producing hand imprints that lingered.
"Nine, Sir. Ten, Sir." Tabitha's awareness floated free while her thoughts raced through the maze of her mind.
Marcus ran his hands over her heated skin, soothing. His lips touched her exposed flesh with a kiss.
Tabitha twitched inside, on the verge of orgasm. Marcus had taken her farther than ever before. Pride surged through her. She'd given him everything he'd asked for willingly. Everything.
Marcus whispered into her ear, "Do you surrender?"
"I do, Sir. I surrender …." All her internal barriers collapsed, liberating her from all constraints. She offered herself to Marcus without reservation.
"You're mine. You're mine now."
His low rumbling words echoed through her and Tabitha fell over the edge, coming inside. She held herself rigid, her movements barely perceptible.
Marcus opened a black bag on the table and extracted the collar he had chosen. The design incorporated thin silver strands, twisted ornately to form an intricate pattern.
Marcus held the collar before Tabitha. "Do you need this collar?" His husky voice contained the merest hint of strain.
Tabitha didn't hesitate. "Yes, Sir. Please. I need your collar." Her words spilled from her heart.
"Then you shall have it." Marcus fastened the collar around her neck and snapped it closed.
Approving hums and whispers were audible. Marcus released her skirt from the clothespin and smoothed it back into place. He unfastened the cuffs from the bench and turned Tabitha into his arms.
They stood there, silently, embracing. After a moment, Marcus removed the handcuffs from Tabitha's wrists and guided her offstage and out of the club.
*****
Marcus pulled Tabitha from the car, eager to reach the privacy of his apartment. He waved to the doorman as they passed and hurried into the elevator. As the doors closed, he turned her back toward the wall of the elevator, crushing her against the hard surface as he ravaged her mouth. His hands roamed freely, pulling the garments from her body. He opened his pants and guided his erection between her legs.
Desperate need wrung his words from him. "I can't wait."
Trapped in the same tempest, Tabitha whispered, "It's okay. You don't have to. I'm ready."
Marcus plunged inside. With powerful thrusts, he took her against the hard surface of the wall until they both shuddered in satisfaction. He breathed heavily against her. "You were so sexy. I wanted to take you right there in the club. I thought I would burst."
"It was hot, wasn't it? I was surprised how aroused I became. I thought doing it in front of others would dampen that, but it didn't. It was exciting, knowing they were all watching."
The elevator doors opened and they stumbled into the apartment. A trail of discarded clothing marked the path to the bedroom.
"Lie down. I'm going to get something for your rear." Marcus returned with a bottle.
Tabitha rolled to her stomach. She had to admit, now that the initial excitement and arousal had passed, a residual sting remained.
Marcus poured oil into his palm. "This is vitamin E oil. It might help." With care, he massaged her still-pink ass cheeks. Marcus's ministrations soothed the lingering ache in her backside. His fingers returned to her, slick with oil. He parted her thighs and reached between, searching with his fingertips. When his slippery fingers found their target, Marcus didn't hesitate.
Tabitha arched against his hand, urging him to touch her.
Marcus captured her sensitive flesh between his fingers, tugging.
Tabitha vibrated with a slow-building orgasm.
Marcus wrapped one arm around her, lifting her to her knees. He slid in with a single motion, and she bucked underneath him.
Tabitha's head snapped back. "Marcus, I don't think I can. I'm past my limit."
"I can prove you wrong." He lowered the intensity. He held back, stroking deep and slow. He stoked their desire with an unhurried pace, content to let it build.
Time stretched and her focus narrowed. All Tabitha was conscious of was Marcus behind her, filling her, pushing her toward a pinnacle she didn't know existed. When she reached it, tingling bursts of pleasure flamed through her body. Marcus held her as she shook and followed him into that place where only mindless sensuality dwells.
Hours later, as they lay in bed, replete, Marcus stirred. "Tabitha."
"Mmm?"
"I have something else I'd like you to wear."
Tabitha opened one eye. "You do? I told you that labia tag was out, didn't I?"
"Very funny. I'm being serious."
Tabitha shook off her sleep. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry."
"It's a sort of collar."
Tabitha gestured toward her silver collar. "I already have a collar."
"It's not for the neck." Marcus extracted a jewelry box from the side drawer. He flipped it open to reveal a beautiful ring, its band made of fine strands of twisted silver that mimicked the collar on her neck.
A desperate hope paralyzed her tongue.
Marcus removed the ring from the box. "Marry me. Be mine in every way."
Elation bloomed in her chest. "Are you sure?"
"Completely. I want the whole thing, kids, dog, and white picket fence, and I want it with you. You're perfect for me and I love you."
Tabitha beamed. "Finally. Isn't that last bit the most important reason?"
"Yes, and …?"
"I love you, too, Marcus. You give me things I didn't even know I needed. Nothing would make me happier than to be your wife."
Marcus slipped the ring onto her finger.
"It's gorgeous. I love it. I love you." She leaned in for a kiss.
Marcus took her lips. "You won't turn into one of those bridezillas, will you?"
Tabitha laughed. "I don't think so, but if I do, you know just how to handle it."
Marcus swatted her on the bottom and they rolled into the twisted covers of the bed.
*THE END*
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Did you miss reading about how Marcus and Tabitha met? Check out His Need, Her Desire.
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Please continue reading below for an excerpt from Mia's Cop Craving.
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About the Author
Malia Mallory lives in Hawaii with her husband
and daughter. She's been working with words since alphabet blocks rolled into her crib, not only writing her own work but copy editing and proofreading the work of others. She has loved to read about relationships since she first sneaked off with her mother's Harlequin.
Malia Mallory is the best-selling author of The ABCs of Erotica series, which covers the erotic spectrum from BDSM to ménage and everything in between. More releases in the series are on the way. She has also released the Mia's Cop Craving series and Santa's Backdoor Baby. Malia’s books have hit the bestselling erotica lists at both Amazon and iTunes. Her books are available in electronic format at major retailers like Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, Kobo, Sony, Diesel, Smashwords and AllRomance Books.
For a free copy of B is for Beach from The ABCs of Erotica, head to her website and sign up for her newsletter.
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Excerpt from Mia's Cop Craving
Mia crossed to Rogan and grasped his outstretched fingers. He gathered her to him and encircled her with his arms. His fingers caressed her back and then moved lower to her ass. He cupped the twin cheeks with his hands as he bent his head to her neck. He bit her, not hard but enough to cause a tiny prick of pain. Mia clutched his shoulders as her knees gave way.
Rogan turned her body until she was pressed up against the wall. His fingers unfastened her jumpsuit as his mouth continued to explore her neck, her jaw and eventually her lips. His kisses were bold and overtly sexual, his tongue spearing into her mouth in a mimicry of the sexual act.
Mia shivered as he exposed more of her skin. Soon her jumpsuit was down well below her waist and he used his foot to push the fabric to the floor. She stepped out of her shoes and then kicked the fabric away.
His Desire Her Surrender (Dominating BDSM Billionaires Erotic Romance #2) Page 11