by Qwillia Rain
“This seems to be a very delicate spot,” Ariel observed. Her fingers caressed the flared edge before slipping along the seam where head met shaft. “What's its name?”
He drew a deep breath to still the moan building in his chest at each teasing flick of her fingertips. “It can be called the head, but the technical term is glans penis.”
“And this?” Her forefinger slid over the very tip, caught another drop of precum before she tapped against the opening.
“Urethra, and the urethral opening is also called the meatus.” He swallowed another groan as he watched her lift her finger to her mouth and lick away the moisture coating the tip.
“Did I pass?” Dane asked and fought the urge to strip away the stretchy cotton covering her breasts and suck the hard little peaks until his woman squirmed and begged for climax.
“Hmmm, I think we missed a spot,” Ariel declared as her fingers returned to grip his cock, settling in the sensitive notch under the head. She squeezed.
Dane hissed and clenched his fists.
“This spot, what's it called, pet?”
“Frenulum.” The word barely made it through his gritted teeth. The pleasure was intense; it took everything he had to keep from reacting to it. He could feel his balls pull close to his body, his climax building, ready to explode. Not yet. Breathe. Think. Control. He repeated the commands to himself, easing back from the edge she'd drawn him to and calming his arousal.
“All of these parts can be so sensitive. You never know what will push you past your control. If you're going to learn to please me, it's important you know how to please yourself, don't you think?” Ariel asked, her green eyes almost guileless as she gazed down at him.
Dane turned his laugh into a choked cough. “Most definitely, Tink. I should know how to please myself.”
“Show me, then.” She ambled away and climbed onto the bar stool to face him. “Sit down and pleasure yourself for me.”
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Ariel fought the temptation to pant. She hadn't expected to become this turned on at the thought of leading Dane in masturbating himself. Was he this excited when he directed me? Is this the rush a real Domme receives when she guides her submissive? Her panties were wet with her juices, her breasts ached for his mouth to suckle them, and her pussy throbbed, desperate to be filled. When she'd gone down on him in the kitchen she'd concentrated on the lesson, not how big he was. Her fingers didn't touch when she wrapped them around his shaft. Only when his aroused penis narrowed near the tip was her thumb able to brush the edge of her middle finger.
She'd definitely miscalculated his size when she'd bought her vibrator while imagining how big he might be. And it wasn't only his girth, but the length as well.
Pushing away the images of how much he'd fill her when she finally got to fuck him, Ariel concentrated on the way Dane settled into the chair facing her. He slouched low, his shoulders propped against the laddered back of the chair and his butt on the front edge of the seat. Long legs held him in place, his bare feet braced on the polished wood near the base of her stool. His thighs were open, showing off the tanned skin that boasted his tendency to sunbathe in the nude.
No tan lines marred the muscled skin of his thighs and belly, and the thick fingers wrapping around his cock were the same brown as the shaft they caressed.
“Stop.” She voiced her order in a husky tone. Ariel left her seat and stepped between his splayed thighs.
Dane watched her, waiting, his blue eyes analyzing her, seeming to search out any sign of weakness she might betray.
“Give me your hand.” She held her right hand out, palm up.
He put his left onto it. Turning his hand over, she leaned down, her gaze holding his and put her mouth around his forefinger. Savoring the mingled flavors of salt and spices, she wrapped her tongue over and around his finger before releasing it. The next finger was afforded the same treatment. And the next. One at a time, until all four and his thumb glistened. She licked the palm, then spit into it to provide lubrication before she returned his hand to his erection and then stepped away.
Her body trembled with the yen to touch him. To slide her fingers over his as he stroked his hand up and down his shaft, the shine of her saliva coating the flesh, reminding her of the taste she'd been teased with nearly a week earlier.
Remembering the steady flow of words he'd whispered while guiding her through her exploration and climax thirty-six hours or so earlier, Ariel went to the side of his chair and crouched down. She watched his hand working his body before slowly drifting her gaze along his taut abs, muscled chest, and broad shoulders. The scent of aroused male, cardamom, and rosemary teased her nostrils. She inhaled one slow, deep breath and then another, pulling the aroma into her lungs, tasting it against the back of her throat.
“Every touch should build the craving.” She shifted her attention from his chest to his face.
The brilliance of his blue eyes seared her. The muscles of her vagina pulsed with desire. Her breasts ached to be stroked, cuddled, caressed, and her breath shortened for a heartbeat, then two.
Unable to stop herself, Ariel smoothed her hand across his chest, tracing the clear lines of demarcation between pectoral and abdominal muscles.
The firm slopes of his chest, topped with the nut brown peaked nipples, drew her fingertips. The crinkled buds felt firmer than hers, the texture of the skin surrounding them only An Invitation: Ariel's Pet
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slightly more coarse than the skin covering her breasts. The speed and flex of his hand on his shaft slowed as she played with his nipples. Ariel tugged a brown button between her fingertips, then leaned forward to nip the second with her teeth. “No stopping, pet.”
Her hand proceeded downward from his nipple to cover the hand he had wrapped around his cock. Beneath her fingertips, she could feel the tension and flex of his muscles and fingers as he worked his hand slow, then fast along his heated length. Precum dribbled over his glans. Ariel guided his hand up until the slick fluid coated his palm and fingers.
“Is it the friction from a fast jerking you like?” Ariel asked as she used her hand around him in quick, sharp yanks.
Dane hissed. His back arched, pushing his shoulders into the chair back. His hips came off the seat, and his feet pressed into the floor to keep himself in place. Her arousal spiraled tighter in her belly at the sight of his pleasure and knowing she drew it from him.
The tendons on his neck stood out as he fought to control his breathing before he eased back onto the chair and opened his eyes to capture her gaze. “Sometimes.” His voice was gruff.
“But I also like a slow, firm ride.” He wrapped his fingers around hers and pulled them all the way to the tip of his cock. Rolling her palm over the head, he drew her hand back down the shaft, flexing and squeezing until the coarse pubic hair scratched its heel.
Ariel slipped her hand from beneath his and rose to stand over him. “Depends on your mood, huh?” she asked and then stepped behind the chair. She trailed the backs of her fingers over his brow, along his cheeks, and down onto his throat. “How long do you take to come?”
“As long it takes.”
The smile canting the left corner of his mouth teased, but the glow in his eyes held a vow Ariel was afraid to examine. “Is it fast or slow?” She leaned closer and closed her eyes. Her lips smoothed over his brow and down toward his cheek. “Long or short?”
“Whatever my partner requires.” His lips caressed her cheek; the scrape of his early-morning beard stimulated her senses as she breathed in the smell of his building arousal.
Levering herself over him, Ariel slid her hands down his chest and onto his belly, her fingertips tingled at the heat of his skin and the way his muscles jumped beneath her touch. She opened her heavy eyelids and met his gaze. “Then give it to me, pet. Long and slow. Give it to me now.”
The body beneath her hands tensed. The sound of flesh on flesh increased immediately before the first sp
lash of cum wet the back of her hand where it rested on his belly. Long, slow pulses arched his body toward her; each time it brought his lips to hers for a whisper of a kiss.
Time lost its meaning. The rumble of tires along pavement outside, feet along the sidewalk, even a shouted greeting between two men, were merely background noises as the last vibration thrummed through his body into hers.
Their breathing slowed in unison, and the tension eased between them. Ariel stepped away from the chair and staggered to the counter, her mind whirling with the sensations and emotions tumbling inside her, her body off-kilter. A towel rested on the tiles, a half-forgotten bit of preparation she'd made for a scene that had gone way beyond expectation.
It wasn't supposed to become as intimate as it had. Her hands trembled as she reached for the towel. Ariel held her breath. Dane hadn't seemed this affected after he'd brought her to climax. Why couldn't she separate herself from the emotions, the arousal mounting inside her?
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Keep it cool. Stay focused. You want him gone; this will speed his departure. Her pep talk was almost forgotten when she faced Dane, the towel in her hands.
Heat burned in his gaze. He hadn't bothered changing his slouched position in the chair. He sat sprawled in it, one hand on his thigh, the other on the edge of the seat. Even in its relaxed state, his penis was an impressive sight to Ariel.
She forced herself to look away from it as she wiped her hands with the cloth. If he can do it, so can I. There's no reason to get emotional, clingy. It's just sex. Despite her efforts to dismiss the feelings, Ariel doubted she'd be successful. There was too much there, but she'd be careful to keep Dane from discovering her secret.
After returning to his side, she wiped the backs of his hands and then smoothed the cloth over the creamy coating on his stomach. “Let's get you cleaned up, pet. We both have some work to finish.” She fought to keep her voice steady and avoid the expression in his gaze. No way am I giving up. No matter how he affects me. Not until he is gone, Alayna is back, and I know my part of the world is safe again.
* * *
Dane heard the sliding door travel along its track, but he ignored it. The lowball glass of vodka he'd carried out to the porch sat abandoned on the table beside him. His fingers traced the smooth sides of the crystal as he listened to Shendah approach.
“Master Dane?” Shendah's tone was quiet, hesitant.
“Yes, Shendah.” He didn't take his gaze from the starlit landscape in front of him.
Her footsteps were quiet on the stone-slab patio. Despite the warmth during the day, the temperature in the surrounding forest dipped at night, even in the summer. “You'll catch a cold if you come out here without shoes,” he warned. The fact that his bare feet were propped on the wooden railing went unmentioned.
“You barely touched your dinner. I thought you might be hungry.” She set a plate with a sandwich stacked with thick slices of meat and cheese on the table, then nudged the drink out of his loose grip.
When she reached for the glass, Dane stopped her. “No.” He made sure not to touch her as he settled his hand over the top of the glass to keep her from taking it. Because of her past, Shendah found unsolicited physical contact difficult to handle. He turned to gaze up at her in the milky light of the stars above and the pale illumination offered by the light over the kitchen stove. Something in his expression, or maybe the look in his eyes, made Shendah gasp and step back.
“Master Dane, has something happened? Are you okay?” A wary, trembling hand alighted on his shoulder.
His left hand lifted the glass to his lips. The measure of vodka slid over his tongue and into his belly with a welcome burn. With his other hand, he reached up and softly patted the one on his shoulder. “I'm fine, Shen.”
“Are you sure?” Her fingers squeezed his shoulder.
“Promise.”
She waited a moment, eased her hand from beneath his, and then gracefully knelt on the flagstones. “Then why are you out here? Alone and drinking?”
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He rolled the empty container between his palms, watching the muted flash of starlight reflect off the surface, his mind shutting doors to paths he'd traveled and opening others he hadn't known existed. “There comes a time in his life when a man has to mourn the life he used to live and face the new one taking shape in front of him.”
“And you need to do that by getting drunk?”
He could hear the confusion and disquiet in her voice. In the past Shendah had left behind, drunkenness had never resulted in anything but abuse, so Dane could understand her uneasy feelings. But the reality of how much he wanted Ariel as his woman, his submissive, slapped him in the face once he'd recovered from the climax she'd induced. The realization of how unlikely his success in claiming her was had left him in a less-than-accommodating mood.
“It's either get drunk or shoot myself, sweetheart. And considering the treats I have in store for me if I survive the siege ahead, I'm thinking I'll stick around for a while.” He set the empty glass on the table, then splashed another measure of vodka into it before he reached for the sandwich.
“Is she worth it?”
“Worth it?”
Her tone was amused as she nodded. “You despise hangovers, Dane. And vodka always gives you the worst ones. Is this woman worth the hangover you'll have in the morning?”
Trust Shendah to know a woman was at the heart of his dilemma. The smile stretching his lips was involuntary as he imagined the battles and wars ahead of him to convince Ariel of their future.
“Yes. She's worth every second of pain and nausea I'll be dealing with in the morning, Shen. Every second and more.”
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Chapter Eight
Day 15
Two days later DeeDee pushed open the door of the kitchen and poked her head inside.
“Hey, Ari. Alayna's on the phone for you.”
“Is he here?” Ariel rinsed her hands at the sink and dried them on a paper towel as she headed toward the exit.
“No, he said he had to go take care of something at his business.”
Ariel hurried into the office and picked up the handset from the desk. “Al, what's up? I thought you weren't supposed to make any calls? What's wrong?”
“Hey there, baby sister. Miss me?” Alayna teased.
“Damn straight, that wannabe Dom is useless on the register.” But in the bedroom… Ariel forced her mind away from the wicked thoughts that had plagued her for nearly a week, keeping her from sleep, and back to her sister's call.
“You were paid on time, right? So that's an upside. And how's Dane making out with ordering your supplies?” Al's voice seemed to hold both curiosity and something else Ariel couldn't quite put her finger on.
Ariel sensed there was more to her sister's call, but she'd play along until Alayna was ready to tell her what. “I'm fine. Money's not everything, and let's not talk about supply orders.”
“All right, fine, we won't talk shop. How are you holding up? What's new? How are you and Dane getting along? He hasn't said anything.”
Ariel was reluctant to discuss Dane and the situation. Glancing at the ladder-back chair, she fought the urge to blush. “It's going. It's going. I'd rather hear all the details of your training.”
She laughed at the thought of turning the tables and putting Alayna on the spot. “Is that sexy Logan tying you up or tying you in knots?”
“Oh, I'm in knots, all right.” Ariel could hear the frustration in her sister's voice. “But I haven't seen the sexy Logan since I arrived.”
Ariel knew the dark-haired man hadn't been in Valerian's Root since Al left for training. It didn't make sense that Alayna hadn't seen him. Considering the way the man had never been able to keep his eyes off her sister, Ariel asked, “Logan isn't around? I thought he owned the place with Dane?”
“He does.” Alayna sighed. “But apparently
Logan is too busy to bother with the training of subs. Maybe he works with the Doms. I don't know. Rick is great, though.”
“Rick?” Ariel shook her head. “Who the fuck is Rick?”
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“The fellow Dane set me up to train with. You'd like him, Ari. His sense of humor reminds me of you.”
“But he doesn't 'do it' for you.” If her sister was as attracted to Logan as Ariel was to Dane, she could understand how substituting another man for the one she really wanted wouldn't quite scratch the itch.
“Not even a little. It's me. I'm sure of it.” Al sounded despondent.
“No, Al, there's no way it could be you.” Ariel shook her head even though her sister couldn't see it. “You haven't done anything wrong,” she assured her.
“You're too sweet.”
Sweet? Ariel was sure that wasn't the word Dane would use to describe her. And she'd worked long and hard to make sure of it. And worked him as well. She pushed aside the images of his body stiffening in climax, the ripple of his muscles as he came, and fixed her attention on her sister's call. “I want to know about this training.”
“You mean my lack of training,” Alayna grumbled.
Ariel frowned, her mind flashing to the careful instructions Dane had given her four nights before. Her body still tingled from the climax she'd reached. Thinking Alayna, who was supposed to be receiving the benefits of A Master's Gift's instruction, wasn't getting what she wanted irritated Ariel. Her comment reflected that. “What? Are they that lame?”
When Alayna didn't laugh, Ariel knew this was more serious than she'd expected. Before she could pry, her sister came clean.
“This is really embarrassing.” Alayna paused for a moment, then continued. “Our sessions are a futile endeavor. Sure, Rick and I have developed a bond, a friendship, but he doesn't do anything to help me tap into my inner sub.”
Ariel winced in commiseration for the frustration her sister must be experiencing. “So maybe you need someone who makes you want to submit.”