by Linzi Basset
“Mistress Pam, are you looking for a sub for tonight?” Pamela looked at Jason Newman, a sub she’d scened with many times. An unwanted memory of Alex cuffing her to a Saint Andrew’s cross flashed through her mind. She blinked back the tears. She missed that … his domination … the way he knew just how to control every aspect of her body and the sensations that coursed through her. She’d turned to the role of a Domme to hide her guilt, to force Alex to stay away from her. At the time, it had given her a way to bury the past and explore a new beginning.
At the expense of my own happiness. Was it all worth it? Four years … four years that I could’ve lived a happy and fulfilling life.
“Mistress?”
Pamela’s gaze sharpened on the attractive middle-aged man watching her with adoration. A familiar flare of heat loosed inside her loins as her eyes trailed over his muscular form. She knew she still looked good. At thirty-eight, her best years were already behind her, but she took care of her body and lived a healthy life. He took a step closer. Her hand against his chest stopped him in his tracks.
“Did I give you permission to approach?”
His gaze lowered. “No, Mistress.”
“I don’t like subs overstepping their boundaries, Jason. You should know that by now.”
“I do, and I apologize, Mistress.”
She leaned her elbows on the counter behind her. Her eyelids lowered as she studied him. Domination in the club had come naturally to her because of her job as a high-profile attorney. She’d become known as the iron lady in the courtroom. Being a Domme had given her a sense of power over the years and she’d clung to it … if only for self-preservation. Tonight, she didn’t feel it.
For the first time in three years, she yearned to be the one dominated, made to submit and forced to acknowledge that deep down she was and always would be a submissive. It was time to connect with the living and stop paying for a death she wasn’t responsible for.
“I have a need to be pampered tonight, sub. Are you up to it?”
His eyes brightened. He straightened eagerly. “Oh yes, Mistress.”
“Very well, start with a breast massage. Use your hands, your tongue, and your lips. If you don’t make me moan and my pussy dripping wet, I'll be very disappointed in you, my pet.”
“You won’t be, Mistress. I promise.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
He pushed her legs apart and stepped closer. His large hands brushed lightly over the rounded edge of her breasts that were pushed upward by the tight leather corset. His eyes lifted to hers, bright with his own excitement.
“May I?”
“You may.”
Pamela closed her eyes and leaned her head backward. Tonight, she just wanted to feel. She didn’t want to see or know who was given her pleasure. All she needed was her existence to be filled with pleasurable sensations to fill the void that had slowly been strangling her.
She exhaled slowly as she felt the coolness of the air against her naked skin as he unbuttoned the corset and pushed it to the sides.
“You are so beautiful, Mistress.”
“Quiet, sub. I don’t wish to hear your voice, just feel your touch.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Pamela sighed as he cupped her breasts in his large hands and squeezed gently. He’d come to know what she liked and he could gauge her needs pretty well by now. He leaned forward to brush his lips over the upper swell while he feathered his palms over her nipples. They grew taut and hard under his touch. Her breathy puffs indicated her rising ardor.
The warm lips that paid homage to her curves did more than soothe her weary mind, it set alight the passion inside her. She didn’t indulge in sex often … not with males. In a way, it made her feel like fucking another man meant that she was cheating on Alex, even though she had ended their relationship after Kieran’s death. She didn’t owe him any consideration, and yet, over the years, it had never changed, which was why she’d turned to having sex with female subs. It was pleasurable but didn’t offer her the deep satisfaction of having a hot and throbbing cock plunging inside her.
Tonight, she needed to lose herself completely. Needed to calm her mind and forget about the worry and regrets that had been hounding her since they’d loaded Alex into the back of the ambulance. If only for a brief period of time.
“Hmm … that’s what I’m after, my pet. Suck my tits … yess,” she purred as he pulled a nipple into his mouth. “Harder, sub. Make me squirm.”
He tugged on the succulent tip, drawing with deep, slow sucks that stretched her breast away from her body. Heat pooled inside her pussy. She arched her back, forcing her breast deeper into his mouth, unloosing the hungry licks of heat that lapped at her core, slowly unlocking the chill that had encapsulated her the past four weeks.
Pamela pushed away from the bar, dislodging Jason’s lips from her nipple that pulled out of his mouth with a loud popping sound.
“Is there a room available, Master Wade?”
“Yeah, the Devil’s Cave is available. For how long do you need it?”
“Thirty minutes.”
Wade’s eyebrows lifted. His gaze sharpened on the formidable Domme. Her eyes appeared glazed and the feverish look on her face was unusual. Something was driving her tonight, and it was obvious that she was aiming to expunge it with sexual energy.
“Let’s go, my pet.”
Jason followed Pamela with his hands behind his back, making sure he remained a step behind her. Inside the room, she immediately undressed and flipped on her back onto the bed, watching the sub quickly following her example.
“Get a rubber on that cock of yours, sub. I’m needy and I want it pounding into me … now.”
Her urgency had an obvious effect on the sub who eagerly sheathed himself as he approached the bed. She spread her legs wide apart and folded her hands around the wrought iron headboard above her head.
“Get in there and fuck me, sub.”
She arched her back as he pushed inside her, hard and hilted with one thrust.
“Yesss,” she moaned. Nothing was better than feeling a hard, pulsing cock spear inside her needy pussy.
Except when it’s Alex. Nothing and no one could … stop it! Don’t think … just feel.
Pamela’s body pulsed as radiated waves of saturated heat brought a hot flush to her face. His slow strokes awakened her fervor and she arched in response to the ecstasy that threatened to consume her. She tilted her hips higher.
“Harder. Fuck me harder.” Her low voice echoed back to her but she closed her mind to the memory that once again scratched behind her eyelids.
Jason banged hard against her, his grunts a sign of his own excitement as he slapped his hips against her wet pelvis.
Pamela was lost in a wave of sexual hunger that coiled tighter and tighter inside until her body trembled under the force of his thrust.
“More! I need more.”
He obliged by powering into her, snapping his hips hard and fast against her, each thrust brushing against her clitoris. The Devil’s Cave resonated with the noise of slapping flesh as he pillaged her and pushed her closer to the edge. He tilted her hips higher and ground against her buttocks as he pumped in and out with long strokes. Pamela exulted in the feeling of his turgid length sliding against her silky walls. She thrashed under him, pushing up into each plunge, submerged in waves of euphoria that rocked her into oblivion.
She felt the room tilt around her as she was flung with gasping breath into the face of a towering wave that lifted her up before crushing her beneath its weight.
“Yes … harder. Now!”
Her voice ended in a scream as her body tightened. Warm liquid gushed from her loins and streamed down her thighs. Her hips jerked as his thrusts turned frenzied as he too chased the orgasm that in the next moment engulfed him and yanked him under with her.
His growl married with her raw cry as they both gave over to the demands of the orgasms that threatened to rip them asu
nder. Long waves of ecstasy rolled over Pamela as she fought off the dull ache of emptiness that followed the intense climax. She pushed at Jason who slumped weakly against her.
“That’s enough. Thank you, my pet, you did well.” Pamela had to force the polite words from her lips. She wanted him out of her body. She wanted him gone … to be alone, so she could bury herself in the misery that assailed her. “You may leave.”
“But Mistress.”
“Go, Jason. I need to be alone.”
He didn’t argue against the chill in her voice. He silently withdrew from her and got off the bed. Pamela didn’t watch him leave. She pulled the sheet over her naked body and waited with closed eyes until she heard the door click behind him.
The feeling of emptiness and need stirred irrepressibly against the temporary accommodation of sexual euphoria. Tears trickled over her cheeks as she curled her body into a cocoon. A forlorn sob ripped from her dry throat as she gave in to the emotional alchemy that she’d suppressed for the past weeks.
She finally admitted to herself that no one had the ability to give her body the satisfaction and unbound pleasure it needed. Only Alex had been able to give her the gift of ultimate sexual release by pushing her every limit.
“What if he dies and I never told him … that I never stopped … Oh god, I love him so much.”
Chapter Two
Alex pushed through the realm of sleep that had engulfed most of his time for the past four weeks. His eyelids fluttered and opened to the brightness of the early morning sun streaks that played over the hospital bed. The chill of the snowy treetops he could see outside was in contrast to its sunny glow.
Almost like the inside of his heart and soul. The one feeling lost and yearning, while the other was fighting the chill of acceptance. That it was time to finally cut the cord that had held his heart captive for the past four years. He had to face reality. She didn’t love him … not anymore … and it was his own fault. He should never have allowed her to pull away. To let her guilt guide the lonely existence he’d been leading as a result.
He shook off his gloomy thoughts. “Ugh,” he groaned as he pushed upright.
“I’ve got to get out of this fucking place.” His voice sounded raw in the quiet room. “Wallowing about what could’ve been isn’t going to change what had happened.” He lifted his hand to the bandage covering half of his face. “Now, I’m a fucking grotesque bastard she wouldn’t want anyway.”
The burn damage to his face had been the worst, luckily only to the left side of his face. Alex had tried to suppress the psychological significance of the areas of his body that had sustained major burn wounds. Ignoring the possibility of permanent disfigurement to his face and neck had become a chess game in his mind ever since he’d seen the raw wounds on his arm before he’d gone in for reconstructive surgery. Those wounds hadn’t been as deep as the ones in his face. He’d kept his thoughts blank, forcing the birth of depression to the back of his mind. So far, he’d managed not to give in to it.
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, bucko,” he mumbled as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
Ethan and the plastic surgeons had assured him that with reconstructive surgery and time … lots of time, the scars would mostly heal. Mostly, yes, but he had come to the end of his patience. He wasn’t as confident as they were.
“I’ve had enough of going under the knife.”
The internal injuries he had sustained during the explosion at Jack Blackmore’s house had almost caused his death but Ethan and his team had pulled him through. The road to recovery hadn’t been easy and was far from over. At least the burn wounds on his arms and back had been attended to and Nate Hart, the plastic surgeon, had assured him he’d have minimal, if any, remaining scars. He lifted his hands and stared at the wads of white material covering half of them and up his arms. Bandages had become his wardrobe for four weeks and his irritation with it was increasing by the day. He wanted them off … for good and the hell with what remained.
“At least Nate said these are coming off today.”
Alex walked toward the small en suite bathroom to relieve himself. The biggest danger of infection in burn wounds had been eliminated by his forced stay in the hospital to recover from his other injuries. The wounds on his face needed more time before they could attempt surgery.
“I’ll be damned if I stay one more day in this fucking place.”
His growl carried him back into the hospital room. He froze. He didn’t have to turn his head to know who silently stood in the doorway. He felt her, like he always did when she was in the vicinity.
Alex dragged in a calming breath. He was irritated and her arrival wasn’t exactly well-timed, especially as it was the first time she bothered to visit him. He ignored her and sat down in the comfortable wingback chair in front of the window.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice floated toward him like the soft echo of a nightingale serenade. He closed his eyes.
“What for?”
“If I hadn’t said … if I hadn’t told you what I did at the wedding, you wouldn’t have gone after Jack and Lance.”
“That’s why you stayed away from here? Because you feel guilty?” Alex remained stoic as he stared sightlessly out of the window. Anger igniting inside him like molasses coming to a slow boil.
“I … Alex—”
“First, you castigate yourself and me for Kieran’s death, and now this.”
“I’m not—”
“Do you enjoy playing the martyr? Or is this just another excuse to keep burying yourself deeper into a hole of nothingness? A void so vast that no one, not even yourself, can get you out. You’ve become an empty shell, Pamela. At your happiest when you don’t feel anything, no emotions, no sensations … nothing.”
“You have no right to talk to me like that.”
Alex didn’t move. The sharp click-click of her heels alerted him of her approach.
“What are you doing here?”
“I needed to see that you’re still alive. I’ve been having nightmares that you might … die.” Her voice broke. Alex felt the band pulling tighter around his chest.
“You can relax, Pamela. You won’t have my death on your conscience too. I might be scarred and abhorrent going forward, but at least you won’t have another excuse to turn away from society, and god forbid … that you might actually feel anything ever again.”
“That’s not fair.”
Alex dragged in a deep breath. He knew he was unreasonably harsh but he couldn’t help himself. He was tired of playing second fiddle to her dead husband.
Fuck, I’m third fiddle! Since she’s chosen to become a Domme rather than be with me.
“Would you care to define what’s fair, Pamela? You of all people?”
He heard the sharp intake of breath. His sigh traveled to the ceiling to envelop the beautiful woman standing behind him.
“You’ve confirmed I’m alive and well. I’m sure you’ll be able to sleep like a baby tonight.” Alex needed to keep pushing her. He had given up hope to ever break through the icy veneer she’d encased around her heart, her entire soul, since Kieran’s death. He was tired of being alone. It was time for her to make a choice.
“I wish it was as simple as that.”
Alex surged upright and groaned as his ribs and still healing wounds, protested at the sudden shift in form. He turned to face her.
It was a strange feeling … to watch her face go pasty white when he turned to face her. Her eyes traveled over his face, his entire body, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t read the relief in her glance.
Yes, relief that I’m alive and well. The besotted lover who just can’t walk away.
“You made it what it is. You choose to live the way you do.”
“Alex, please, I didn’t come here to fight.” She took another step closer. Her hand reached out to touch his good cheek … a gesture she didn’t realize happened until she felt his warm skin beneath her palm. She snatched it back.
He snorted. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” He gestured at his face. “At least now you have a legitimate reason to stay away from me.”
“You face has nothing to do … how can you even think something like that? You know why I can’t be with … why we can’t … dammit, Alex! Why do you always have to be so unreasonable?”
“I’m not unreasonable, Pamela. Over the past few weeks, I’ve done a lot of introspection. I’m done fighting a losing battle. Your dead husband got what he wanted. Finally, he wins. After all these years, he still manages to manipulate your mind and your life. I accept your choice. I give up. I won’t bother you again.” Alex turned his back on her and stood to stare out of the window. “Please leave. The nurse will be here soon to help me bathe.”
“Alex, I—”
“I said leave.”
Alex’s heart weighed heavy in his chest as he listened to the click-click of her heels growing fainter as she walked away, and this time, probably out of his life for good.
He deliberated over his harshness but knew it had been past due. Regurgitating over a lost cause served no purpose. He was growing old … alone, without a wife and children because he’d kept hoping she’d see the light.
“No more. I want it all and if she can’t give it to me, I need to find someone who can.”
“You’re up early, Governor. Are you in pain?”
Alex smiled at the nurse who appeared at his side. “No, for a change, I slept like a baby.”
“Ah, I guess you’re eager to get rid of those bandages, then.”
“You’ve come to know me too well, Nurse Bea.”
She blushed prettily, another victim to his easy charm. A trait that had stood him well in the years as Governor of Maryland.
“Shall we get you refreshed before Doc Hart arrives?”
Alex followed her into the small bathroom, allowing his body to relax under her soothing touch, but the haunting look of despair in deep cerulean blue eyes kept hounding him throughout the morning. It was a relief when Nate Hart arrived two hours later to remove the bandages.