Is he going to fit in my mouth? Affirmative. What if I gag? Oh, guaranteed, and he doesn't care. How do I take all of him? With a long, deep inhale and a carefully timed swallow. Will I please him? One hundred percent, yes.
The last question was always the most important. Her answer was always correct.
Her tongue fluttered over him, licking him clean from testicles to tip. His groan was frustrated but Ava was accustomed to his signals now, and he wasn't in a hurry to speed things up. Her sadist had a drop of masochist in him. She continued to tease him until his hips began to shift rhythmically, rising and falling with the stroke of her tongue. His shaft flexed, jerked every time she laved him.
Ava peeked up at him. There were so few rare moments when she could witness him at both his weakest and strongest point combined. This was one of them. His face was strained, his eyes heavy. Through half-closed lids, the gray was nearer black and locked on her. Powerful cords in his neck stood out; if he'd taken off his shirt, she knew his shoulders and biceps would mirror them.
She loved his strength, his control. He used both in equal measure, never letting passion overpower one or the other. He could touch her like fragile crystal and still wrench cries from her throat. He could hurt her beyond the imagining and never let her taste the copper of fear.
The first few inches of his cock slipped easily into her mouth. Her tongue caressed the underside as she sucked lightly, bobbing her head up and down until the head bumped the back of her throat. This part, she wasn't keen on. Drool gathered in her mouth as her stomach heaved, triggered by her gag reflex. But she bore down, reassured by the weight of his hand stroking over her hair in encouragement.
“Relax, little dove,” he murmured, his voice so calm she had no choice but to follow his lead. “You've done this before. Deep breath and swallow.”
Ava took several long, slow breaths before she took the plunge and inhaled until she thought her lungs would burst. She lowered her head down further until her belly twisted in protest and pressure compressed the back of her mouth. Concentrating like her life depended on it, she forced a swallow and moaned as Finn filled her throat.
Panic swept through her, her body screaming it couldn't breathe. She struggled against herself for several frantic moments, far too conscious of the air sitting uselessly in her lungs. Hating the saliva streaming from her lips. Humiliation was a hard limit and drool...well, drool was pushing that limit. She abhorred having stuff on her face, bodily fluids in particular, even her own.
She made herself hang on for as long as she could, then eased back with a wet cough. Before Finn could say a word, she took him right back in, striving to be perfect for him. She swallowed once, twice, feeling her throat muscles ripple around his shaft.
His hands caressed the sides of her head now, his fingers massaging her scalp just behind her ears. It was guaranteed to make her purr like a kitten, and she heard him curse as the vibrations hit him in all the right spots. His fingers fisted in her hair, individual strands stinging with tiny bites of pain that built into a collective throb.
From there, she surrendered any thought of being in charge. Finn's hands guided her head and she became the vessel of his pleasure. All she could do was hold on to his thighs and let him thrust, fucking her face as enthusiastically as he'd ever ravaged the rest of her. She took breaths where she could, gulping in oxygen when he allowed.
He'd barely said a word aside from those of encouragement, but Ava felt his approval, his pride, and basked in them as though they were sunlight in a dark, dismal world. Her head was going light, her eyes closing against the soft blur shrouding her vision.
Her heart lurched as she felt him thicken, her throat tightening in a nervous convulsion. His murmur of warning buzzed in her head and she braced herself for the end. His cock pushed deep, his length occupying mouth and throat until her nose pressed against the soft pad of pubic hair he kept immaculately groomed.
Warmth filled her belly. Finn's harsh groans drowned out her body's pleas for relief. Her muscles knotted, her body writhing as a final spurt of cum filled her mouth. She went limp the moment he slipped from her lips.
She dropped her forehead against his stomach, taking precious moments to regain her composure before she sat back onto her heels. Her scalp cried when Finn disentangled his grip from her hair, his touch gently rubbing away the sharp twinges. She kept her gaze on the floor, an image of what her face looked like making her uneasy.
What do you think you look like with a belly full of cum? I didn't raise a filthy whore for a daughter. You weren't taught to kneel at a man's feet with tears and snot and drool all over your slutty face. Maybe you should take a picture so you know exactly what a dirty bitch looks like, before your master wipes away all the evidence and spit-shines your innocence to his requirements.
Ava flinched, jerking back as soft cloth brushed her face. Ashamed of her thoughts, she raised her hand to her face and touched the dampness on her cheeks. Her throat ached, as did her jaw, and her lips felt swollen and tender. She ran her fingertips over them lightly as they trembled.
She heard the soft whirr of a zip, then hands hooked beneath her arms and lifted her, settling her onto Finn's lap. A blanket draped over her shoulders and she was urged to lay her head on his shoulder as he tucked her in tight and cuddled her close. “Ignore him, Ava. What?” Finn asked with an edge of irritation in his tone. “You think I don't know you well enough by now to read your reactions? He gets inside your head whenever you believe you've done something you should be ashamed of. This was nothing you should feel anything but proud of, little dove.”
He might be right, she supposed. Her father did pop up whenever something troubled her, especially when she queried her choices or actions. Like he sensed a weakness in her bravado and chipped away at it, prizing it open further so he could worm inside and drive her into oblivion. “Ruining special moments seems to be a talent of mine.”
“Actually, I'd say you're pretty fucking good at making them. That was an excellent blowjob, darlin'. Not quite as much hesitation to swallow me, which is an improvement. And,” he added with a chuckle, “you didn't bite me this time. That has to go on the plus side.”
Ava's face erupted into an inferno of mortification. She'd hoped he wouldn't bring that disaster up. Besides, she told herself, it wasn't like she'd purposefully tried to bite his dick off in the middle of oral sex, was it? No, it was not. A faint giggle broke free. “That was an accident, Sir. I don't believe you can blame my gag reflex for being triggered by a battering ram in my mouth. If my memory serves,” she continued, “it was a nip, and non-fatal.”
“Try telling that to my cock,” Finn fired back with a laugh. “At least you're back to your usual self. I was worried we might have to cut the evening short if you had some misgivings about being here.” He leaned forward and picked up a bottle of water, opening it and holding it to her lips. “Drink slowly, Ava.”
Cool water spilled into her mouth; she hadn't realized how thirsty she was until she drank. She finished most of the bottle, then let him clean her face with a small, soft towel. Attempting to mimic his raised eyebrow look, failing terribly, she said, “Black Light minions doing their job? The towel, the blanket,” she explained when Finn looked puzzled. “We didn't have either when we got here.”
“Spencer has an efficient team. They know what we need before we do.” Setting the bottle back on the floor, Finn nudged her chin up and studied her face. “God, you have such a sexy mouth, especially when your lips are all plump and pink from sucking my cock. Very kissable,” he said with a wicked smile, ducking his head to do just that. “I guess now we decide whether to call it a night or move ahead to the main event. How do you feel?”
Her father had no right to ruin their night. Her stupid brain didn't have to conjure up chastisement using his voice every time it thought she was being bad. Correction: every time she thought she was being bad. There was nothing wrong with being submissive. People were animals, and animals
didn't fret over whether they were dominant or submissive in the grand scheme of life. They were what they were, just as she was.
Submitting sexually to a dominant partner was nothing to cry about. There had to be a way to flip a switch in her head and shut off the loudspeakers blaring profanity and cruelty and lies. They'd come to Black Light for a reason, and she was bound and determined to make the most of it. Not just to please Finn—he obviously thrived in the club—but to spend time together as a dynamic without the problems of the ranch sitting on their shoulders, waiting for a page or a phone call to disturb their private time.
“I don't want to go yet, Master Finnegan. We're not in D.C. for long and I don't want to waste the time we have here because my insecurities make me crazy and project my father into my thoughts. We came here to play, and I think we've both earned it.” She sat up straighter, impressed she'd actually found her spine. “But that choice is yours, Sir.”
“Actually, it was yours, and you made it. Would you like a few more minutes before...” Finn trailed off, scowling up at the shadow falling over them. His arms hooked around her more firmly and Ava cringed as she looked into a pair of predatory green eyes. “Yes?”
Ava shivered at the arctic blast of his voice. She'd curl up into a ball and die if he ever used that tone on her, but the barely dressed Domme standing over them didn't bat an eyelash at the scantily veiled hostility aimed her way. If anything, it seemed to fuel her interest.
Marie Antoinette cocked her hip and struck what she must have assumed was a come-hither pose. It wasn't something she pulled off with any effect. She'd approached alone but Ava spotted her trio of lover boys prostrating themselves around a small table and two chairs not twenty feet away. “Forgive me for intruding. I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting; I've certainly not seen you or your delightful sub in Black Light before today. New members?”
“Regulars who keep to themselves,” Finn retorted, subtly shifting Ava's position on his lap.
She took the hint and buried her face in the crook of his neck as though shy. She kept sneaking peeks, letting her eyes slide over, then away. It was kind of bad form on the Domme's part to interrupt another couple's aftercare; Ava had no doubts the woman had watched the scene, plus Ava was still wrapped in Finn's arms and the blanket. If it wasn't obvious to Madame Antoinette that there was aftercare going on, the woman wanted her eyesight testing.
“I see. I was wondering if you might consider having a drink with me, perhaps discussing a scene?”
Her man was a mountain of solid rock, Ava thought, ready to go landslide on Dommesville. His body couldn't have been any more rigid, his muscles tense beneath her, and it would be a gift from the heavens if he didn't morph into Mega-Dom before this conversation ended.
“A scene between whom?” he snapped. “You have three subs to play with, and I don't share without a damn good reason.”
Long eyelashes—fake, surely—batted coyly. “Well, I have been known to switch for the right Dom. Perhaps we could talk?”
Finn lifted Ava off his lap and set her carefully on the loveseat, making sure she was fully covered with the blanket before he stood slowly, towering over the Domme with his arms folded over his chest. “And what do you propose I do with my sub while you switch?”
“As you pointed out, I have three submissives of my own to play with. I'm sure they'd be happy to...occupy your sub for a few hours. I might even be tempted to keep her busy myself. I do like young, fresh submissives with an air of innocence, and she...” Marie Antoinette licked her lips in a suggestive manner that almost had Ava throwing up her water. “She certainly has innocence in spades, doesn't she? Does she lick pussy as well as she sucks cock?”
Mount Finnegan erupted with silent, steaming rage. Ava wasn't sure how he kept himself from picking the woman up and tossing her across the room, his fury was so palpable. His body turned into a statue, but his voice...if she thought it had been arctic before, it was beyond sub-zero now. “My sub shouldn't be of any interest to you. She wears my collar, and I don't fucking share. Especially not with harlots masquerading as Dommes. Switch or not, you don't come over here and upset my aftercare time. Ever. And you definitely do not come with the intention of soliciting your services like a prostitute.”
Marie's red-slicked mouth fell open, shock rounding her eyes before they narrowed to vengeful slits. “How dare you—”
“Am I wrong?” Finn demanded. “Aside from the fact this is the first time we've exchanged a word between us in our lifetimes, are you under the impression I've given you some mysterious signal that I want anyone other than my sub?”
“I was merely—”
“Inserting yourself where you don't belong,” he finished, steamrollering over her effortlessly without raising his voice. Despite the low volume, people were already starting to stare, and Ava noticed more than one of them looking pleased by the Domme's flattened expression. “When I'm tending to my sub after a scene, you do not intrude. It was clearly evident we were in the middle of something and you do not have the right to disrupt that, whether you are Dominant, submissive, or God. I suggest you take yourself back to your three subs and give them the attention you seem so desperate to seek from others.”
Green eyes flashed with hatred so sharp, Ava was surprised her lover didn't disintegrate into cauterized pieces on the carpet. What was that saying? Something about a woman scorned? Well, Marie Antoinette was most definitely scorned, and apparently not backing down without a fight. If there was a submissive bone in her body, Ava decided it was hanging on a chain around the witch's neck. “You can't speak to me that way. I'm your equal.”
“My equal? Huh. How do you figure that? Please,” he responded graciously, unfolding his arms to gesture with a hand capable of covering her face and smothering her, “do tell. I would love to hear how you and I stand on equal footing right about now.”
Full lips worked uselessly for a second, like a trout out of water. Behind them, white teeth bared in a snarl. Marie Antoinette drew herself to her full height and was still several inches too short to look Finn directly in the eyes. That didn't stop her from puffing her chest up or slamming her hands onto her hips in defiance. “I'm as dominant as you are. I hold membership here, and I'm as capable of controlling a submissive as you.”
Finn snorted. “So, we're on equal ground because you think dominance is something to be compared to others. You have money enabling you to afford membership—kudos to you—but look around. Every single person sitting around you has the money to afford membership and to sponsor their play partner for the night if needed. Controlling a submissive, as you so eloquently state it, has nothing to do with equality and says everything about what you believe the lifestyle to be. Dominance isn't only measured by the control you have over another person, it’s measured by the amount of trust you inspire in your submissive and how much of themselves they are willing to concede. All you've given me is three reasons to wonder why you're in the lifestyle.”
“You really are the rudest—”
“Man. Yes, I know. It's frustrating, isn't it, when you're trying to say something and someone else barges in to take control of the situation. Never being allowed to complete a sentence once you've started it. Much like now, when a Dominant is seeing to his sub's needs, in that space of time when their defenses are down and need to be shored back up before the insecurities set in, and a stranger walks into that intimate moment to proposition the Dominant and basically offer to share his sub like a box of donuts amongst her own submissives. Fucking annoying, isn't it?”
Ava blinked slowly, shrinking back into the seat at the viciousness of his tone. This was probably the side of him she never, ever wanted to have looking at her with anger. It dawned on her that she probably wouldn't survive an encounter with Mount Finnegan, and she was aware she definitely wouldn't be holding her ground the way the Domme was. Finn could crush rocks in his bare hands right now, and she was nowhere near as solid as a rock.
�
��Take yourself away from me and my submissive before I lose my patience,” he told the quivering woman, dismissing her temper effortlessly. He didn't seem to care whether he offended her or not, and it showed in his body language. Furious, yes, but Marie Antoinette was otherwise beneath his notice when it came to caring about her feelings. “I am not a nice guy when my patience snaps, and I have more important matters to attend to. Come within hearing distance of my scenes from now on, and you and I will be having harsher words.”
“Is there a problem?”
Ava's eyes slid momentarily over to the newcomer to this fascinating drama, then back to Finn. She was so gone over him, she couldn't find the words to describe what kind of party her hormones were holding in her ovaries right now. She wanted to kiss him, over and over. Hell, she'd go down on his cock again without so much as a hiccup of protest. Shining knights were okay if you wanted sparkling white and flawless armor, but she preferred her dark and dented knight, riding to the rescue on a jet-black stallion with his sword already bloodied.
The new face in the equation seemed familiar, but she couldn’t put a name to it. His features reminded her of someone she could see in her mind but not fully recall. Part of her had expected Master Spencer to storm over and take the situation into his hands—Black Light was, after all, his domain—but she was sure this wasn't someone she'd met on Roulette night. She thought she hadn’t, anyway.
“The lady and I are in the middle of a disagreement,” Finn said nonchalantly, surprising Ava. She thought he might have downplayed the altercation after the thorough verbal spanking he'd just delivered, but no, he was going for the kill and getting the DMs involved too. “Perhaps you could offer your opinion on the matter. I'd like a second opinion.”
Faced with an outside party who obviously was well aware of her activities, Marie Antoinette shook her head. “That won't be necessary. My subs are waiting for me, and yours,” her lip curled slightly as she glanced at Ava with all the venom of a King Cobra, “is being very patient. If you'll excuse me—”
Black Light: Branded Page 24