Dangerous Master (3 page)

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Authors: Tawny Taylor

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BOOK: Dangerous Master
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Zane passed him the lube as he slammed in and out of his ass. “Take your cock in your hand. Stroke it.” He was close. Damn close. So close, he didn’t give a damn about anything else.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Come for me. Come, dammit.” Zane’s body was on fire. His blood was burning. His cock was so hard, he gritted his teeth against the pleasure and the pain. His balls were about to explode. And a searing hunger tore through his whole being. “Come now!”
Beneath him, Bruce shook. He shuddered and quaked and moaned. Then there was a fraction of a second of silence and a long exhalation. “Yessssss.”
A picture of Amanda Thompson flashed through Zane’s mind, and his balls contracted. His cum blazed up his shaft, exploding from his body in white-hot bursts. Dizzy from the intensity, he drove into Bruce’s ass, filling it with his seed. He lowered his body, until his chest was resting against Bruce’s back. He licked a path around the side of Bruce’s neck, opened his mouth, and bit.
Bruce’s scream pierced his ears as the first mouthful of blood flowed over his tongue.
3
 
T
his was getting old.
Mandy had spent the last few weeks pretending to be a new submissive at a local bondage club, while watching mostly naked men and women of all ages, shapes, and sizes be chained up, tied down, spanked, paddled, flogged, and caned. At first, it was pretty damn sexy to watch. But gradually it lost its appeal. She just could not understand why they did it. What purpose did it serve? How could they mistake pain for pleasure?
She needed to wrap up this case and move on. She’d put in hours upon hours and had nothing to show for it. She was beginning to think her client was never going to get the proof she needed to win her case. And she was going to lose her reputation as the bulldog of Detroit.
Mandy yanked at the creeping hem of her miniskirt and shimmied through the thick crowd gathered at the far end of the public dungeon. This place wasn’t the best for her purposes. There was a no-penetration rule in place, and that rule was strictly enforced. There were security guards ensuring that nobody stepped out of line and that all play was safe and consensual. Her hope was that she’d score an invitation to a private party somewhere else, a gathering like Zane’s.
Zane.
She’d thought about him a time or two since that night. He’d popped up in a dream every so often. In those dreams, he did things to her that she never would have guessed she’d like. She’d wakened in the middle of an orgasm more than once.
No man had ever done
that
to her before.
But, and this was a
big
but, he was more than she could handle—outside of a fantasy. She reminded herself of that fact every time one of those dreams had her second-guessing herself.
If only he wasn’t so ... darkly dominant. Intimidating. Fiercely gorgeous.
A pleasant buzz of energy zapped through her body as she pictured his face in her mind. What a face. What a body.
No, she wouldn’t wish him to change, not at all. It was that dark dominance, that sense of danger, that made him so damn sexy. He was the ultimate bad boy.
Someone tapped her shoulder.
Thinking it was Sarah, who’d scampered off to talk to a fellow dom, she spun around.
It wasn’t Sarah.
“Hello,” Zane said.
“Hi.” Mandy’s mouth went instantly dry. He was here. Zane. God, it was him. And he was looking just as good, if not better, than he had in her dreams.
He leaned over and murmured in her ear, “I’ve been watching you.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “And I know what you’re doing,” he added.
“Do you?” She wanted to get away from this man. No, she didn’t. She wanted to lean in closer, draw in his scent, and feel his heat burn over her body.
He slid an arm around her waist. “Come with me.” Not waiting for her to decide whether or not she wanted to, he started weaving through the crowd, pulling her along. She followed. Her mind screamed silent warnings. But her feet kept going. They left the dungeon, following a long, dark corridor that ran behind it. They stopped at the end.
He turned her so she was trapped between the wall and his bulk. She tried to decide whether she needed to scream for help or listen to what he wanted to tell her. She looked up into his dark eyes. They looked intense but not terrifying.
No, she wouldn’t scream. Not yet.
“What do you want?” Her voice sounded small. She felt small, too. He was so tall, so big. And, more than that, he gave off a powerful presence, an energy that made her feel powerless and vulnerable.
“You like to watch. It makes you wet.”
“Um.” A gush of heated cream dampened her panties. He was right, in some respects. She would much rather watch than participate.
He leaned closer, closer still. His breath was sweet, his body warm. “Watch me.”
A shudder swept through her body. Hell yes, she’d like to do that. But... but... He lowered his mouth to hers, brushed his lips across hers. The door behind her swung open, and she practically tumbled into the room. He grabbed her upper arms, steadying her as she regained her footing. Her gaze lifted to his. Dark eyes locked to soft blue. Mandy’s heart did a funky
pitter-patter-thump
in her chest.
Zane motioned behind her. “Won’t you have a seat?”
“I shouldn’t.”
Zane tipped his head slightly. “Shouldn’t, but you want to. You will.”
She’d say one thing for this guy—he didn’t lack confidence. “No, I don’t think I will.” She twisted her body to break out of his loose hold. She saw then what was behind her.
A man, nude. A gorgeous man. Kneeling. Head tipped down. Hands resting on smooth-skinned thighs.
Was that ... ? Could it be ... ?
His face was hidden, but she was almost positive Zane’s waiting submissive was none other than Andrew Clark.
Hot damn!
She smiled up at Zane. “On second thought, maybe I will accept your invitation. Thank you.” She let Zane escort her to the comfortable-looking couch positioned along one wall. She sank into the soft cushions, swung one leg over the other, and plunged her hand into her jacket pocket.
Her camera was gone.
Damn. How? When?
Zane gave her an evil grin as he shut the door, trapping her inside the room with him. “Were you looking for something, Amanda?”
“Nope.”
Bastard.
That was the second camera he’d taken from her.
“Good.” He sauntered to the minibar in the room’s corner. “Drink?”
“Water’s fine.”
He opened a bottle of Perrier and poured a glass, adding a lemon slice before taking it to her. Their fingertips grazed as he passed the glass to her. Her face went instantly hot as his sharp eyes studied her. “Enjoy.”
She had the distinct impression he wasn’t talking about the water. “Thanks.” She sipped while he searched the contents of the cabinet sitting along one wall.
He picked a leather flogger from the cabinet and went to his submissive. “What makes you hot, Amanda?” Zane dragged the dangling leather straps over the submissive’s shoulders. Mandy’s gaze slid from Zane’s face to the sub’s body. His skin was coated in goose bumps, his muscles visibly tensing underneath. “Is it just the sight of flesh?”
Mandy’s pussy clenched. That was a part of it. Particularly when that flesh was so freaking beautiful. “Maybe.”
His gaze locked on hers. “I don’t think that’s it at all.”
“Then why don’t you tell me?”
Zane flicked his wrist. The tails struck the submissive’s back. Mandy flinched. The submissive didn’t. Her heart started hammering against her breastbone. The submissive remained perfectly still, stone-statue still. Mandy had no idea how he did that. Zane’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Or is it the pain that makes your pussy wet?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s definitely not that.”
Zane struck the submissive a second time. Mandy felt her face burning up.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Her fingers curled around the edge of the couch cushion.
“Your pussy’s wet now.”
That it was. But not because she was watching some poor man get whipped. She wasn’t sadistic. Only sadists would get hot from that.
Mandy shrugged.
Zane flogged the submissive a third time, a fourth. He motioned for Mandy to come to him. She didn’t move at first. But when he motioned a second time, she came closer. “Look. At his face,” he told her.
Mandy had to squat down to see the man’s face. Sure enough, it was Andrew Clark’s face she was looking at.
Andrew’s pupils were dilated so wide, she could barely see the ring of color circling them. Andrew’s chest was rising and falling faster than normal, and his neck and chest were flushed a deep crimson.
Of its own will, her gaze dropped to his cock. It was thick and hard and its tip glistened with precum. A silver metal cock ring circled his penis and testicles, sitting flush to his pelvis. She couldn’t seem to look away.
“Do you like his cock?” Zane asked.
She liked it okay, but she sure as heck wasn’t going to touch it or anything. “Um, sure.”
Zane stooped behind her. He was too close. Her nerves were zapping and buzzing. “Do you want to touch it?”
The object of their conversation twitched.
Her mouth dried up. “No, thanks.”
“Do you want to suck it?”
Andrew’s cock twitched again. The flared head visibly swelled a little more.
“No, thanks. I’d rather just watch.” Mandy started to stand. Zane stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
“Stay there.” That was a command. An order.
“I think it would be better—”
“I said,
stay there.
” Zane bent over her shoulder. His breath puffed in her ear. Her body tingled. “Watch.”
She thought about telling him to fuck off and leave. If the guy kneeling in front of her hadn’t been Andrew Clark, she probably would have. She was so not liking this bossy asshole dom thing. But she decided it would be a good thing if she played along for now. If Zane invited her into another one of these private sessions with Clark, she’d have another shot at getting her pictures. The trick would be concealing the camera better.
She gnawed on her lower lip and settled into a comfortable position on the floor.
“Look at her,” Zane said to his slave as he straightened up. “She’s watching you. She’s hungry for your cock.”
Andrew’s dilated eyes found hers. His lips parted slightly, his breathing visibly speeding up.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Zane circled around the back of Andrew.
“Yes, master.”
Zane bent over his slave, leaning close to him. Zane’s eyes found Mandy’s. His lips curled into a seductive smile. “You want her to suck your cock down her throat.” A very different image flashed in Mandy’s mind, of Zane standing nude before her, his cock thrusting into her mouth.
Andrew visibly trembled. “Oh, yeah.”
Zane flogged him again. “You want to shoot your cum down her throat.”
Andrew licked his lips. His eyelids were heavy, the deep red stain coloring his neck creeping up to his face. “Yeah.”
Zane struck him again, and Andrew shuddered. “You want to grab her hair and fuck her mouth.”
Was that what Zane wanted? Mandy’s empty pussy clenched as a wave of warmth surged through her body.
“Oh, yeah.” Andrew’s teeth gritted. His skin shimmered as a coating of sweat slicked his shoulders, his back, his stomach. He was going to cum. Just from being flogged? “More, please. More.”
Zane’s wrist flicked again, again. And with each strike, Andrew’s body became tenser, hotter, his cock harder. And, thanks to Zane’s sharp-eyed gaze catching her reaction every time, Mandy became more breathless, dizzy, and tight all over. “Come now!” Zane demanded. “Catch it in your hand.”
Andrew closed his fist over the head of his cock. His head fell back. His whole body quaked and then spasmed. He roared as his fist filled with his come.
On the verge of coming herself, Mandy watched. At Zane’s dark look of satisfaction, a flood of slick warmth soaked her panties. That was nothing like she’d expected. It was strange and unsettling and bizarre. And freaking hotter than hell.
Zane pushed Andrew’s head to the side and dragged his tongue up the length of his neck. “Very good. You have pleased me.” He walked around them, stopping directly behind her. He leaned over her shoulder. Painfully aware of his heat, Mandy shivered. “Did you enjoy that, Amanda?”
“Y-yes,” she said, her pussy warm, her panties sodden, her senses überalert. She inhaled deeply, smelling Zane and Andrew. Man and cum and sex. God, it wouldn’t take more than a stroke or two to send her over the edge.
Where was her rabbit when she needed it?
“Very good. I’m not finished with you.” Zane helped her to her feet, and she staggered back to the couch. Meanwhile, Zane and Andrew sat and talked quietly. She drained her glass and stood, prepared to leave them alone. Zane gave her a don’t-go look and held up an index finger.
Andrew nodded, said one last thing, then gathered his clothes and left.
Now she was alone with Zane. All alone. And he’d said he wasn’t done with her.
What did he have in mind?
He sauntered over to her with a loose-hipped swagger. He didn’t sit. “Who’s your client?”
Okay, so that wasn’t what she’d expected. She threw one leg over the other and crossed her arms. The position only added to the ache between her legs. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that.”
“I’ll find out.”
Mandy shrugged.

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