Dominance and Deception (14 page)

Faye tugged my jeans down over my hips. Santoro ensured that my boxers soon followed, then ran his fingers lightly up my cock. It was on the tip of my tongue to reprimand him for drawing out the encounter, but Faye's hand joined his, and they moved in unison, teasing me irresistibly.

After a while, it became almost too intense—the feel of them both against me, their kisses and whispers and touches. I needed to change the scene.

"Little tease, on the bed. Senior detective, kneel until I'm ready for you."

They complied immediately, and I lay on the bed, pulling Faye atop me. She straddled me, and my cock jumped as I contemplated just fucking her now, taking what I needed.

She whimpered and writhed against me, and I lost control a little, driving myself up into her and holding still with an effort.

"I wasn't even planning on fucking you tonight, little tease. And I won't—not for long, anyway."

Obviously a little confused, she watched me through eyes hazy with want, and I explained myself, keeping my hands on her thighs to still her.

"Now, you're gonna ride me until I tell you to stop, then you're gonna get up and kneel by the side of the bed. I will allow you to touch yourself until you come, and you don't need to ask for permission, but if you make
me
come before Santoro gets his turn, you're gonna be in big trouble. Clear?"

"Clear, Sir,” she whispered, unable to resist shifting against me a little. I tightened my grip on her thighs—a warning—before looking over at Santoro.

He was drinking in the sight of us together, and I had to catch his gaze before I spoke. “Senior detective, the second Faye leaves this bed, I want you on it and my cock in your mouth. Clear?"

He grinned. “Clear, Sir."

I released my grip on Faye, and she began to move, keeping the pace slow for the time being and leaving us both frustrated. I watched as her self-control crumbled by degrees, as she began to take me faster and harder, driving me closer to the edge.

I almost couldn't bring myself to say the words, knowing that if she kept going, I'd come within seconds. My voice was sharp as I forced the command out. “Now, little tease. Go."

Faye resisted for a split second, unable to ignore her body's instincts. Just as I thought it would be too late, she rolled away from me with a soft moan, and I bit back a curse as the pleasure subsided.

Then Santoro was beside me, taking me into his mouth and putting his lips, tongue and hands to expert use. I buried my hands in his hair, thrusting up against him, driving deeper, and he took it easily, meeting my eyes as I watched his endeavours.

Nearby, Faye cried out, her fingers busy against her own flesh, providing a provocative soundtrack to the moment. Santoro added a groan of frustration to the mix, the vibration against my cock almost too much to bear. My entire body was taut, aching for release, and my senior detective gave it everything he had.

A final, hard, almost violent touch was all I needed, coming in powerful surges that knocked out the capacity for thought entirely. Santoro swallowed it down, then stretched out beside me when I spoke his name, unable to stop himself from brushing his hard cock against my hip.

Amused, I looked over at Faye, on her knees beside the bed with her head resting against the mattress. Leaving her to her own post-orgasmic bliss, I pulled Santoro into a kiss, wrapping my hand around his cock and stroking firmly upwards.

"Ask me for it, senior detective..."

"Please, Sir,” he murmured against my lips, and groaned when I gave him what he wanted without holding back. He tensed in my arms, crying out roughly again and again until he came hard, thrusting into my touch a few more times before slowly calming.

He whispered his thanks against my lips, and I smiled, taking the towel Faye offered and beginning to clean us up.

"Any doubts about my motivations left, senior detective?"

He shook his head, still looking a little dazed, but smiling. Faye sat beside us, affectionately running her fingers through his hair, and I raised an eyebrow at her. “Have fun, little tease?"

She gave me a wicked grin, with a giggle to match. “I had the
most
fun. I'm actually scared I won't be able to remember it all."

Santoro turned in my arms, tugging her down to lie with us. “Well, if at any point you want a repeat performance..."

She rolled her eyes. “Tommy, please! That goes without saying. I'd take a repeat performance in, like, half an hour."

Santoro and I let out simultaneous groans—I could barely summon the will to move, and Santoro was so relaxed I could tell he felt the same.

"Gonna need to recharge for a little longer than that, Faye."

She pouted. “Men! Make you come a couple of times, and you're useless. See, this is why we should get Erica in on this. Once you guys are done you can just lie there and watch us."

This was the first time I'd heard her mention involving Beaumont. She was getting carried away, not to mention stepping out of line.

"Little tease...” I warned her.

"Sorry, Sir,” she said, a little reluctantly.

Santoro interjected, “Okay, question. If we get Erica in here—which is an awesome idea, by the way—are you then gonna want to bring in Layton? Cause I'm gonna have to draw the line. I see enough of that little subbie in the squad room—"

I decided to put a stop to the idea before it got out of hand. “It's just the three of us. Is that clear, senior detective?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Little tease?"

She nodded, seeming genuinely contrite now. “Yes, Sir. Sorry."

I watched my long-time submissive lie beside our new partner with a sense of satisfaction. Part of me wondered what exactly I was letting myself in for, trying to manage Faye
and
Santoro—they were both challenging enough to deal with on their own. But as I watched Faye snuggle into Santoro's arms, reaching one hand over him to lay it against my side, I got the feeling it'd be worth it.

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Carte Blanche

Pierce

"What do you have for me, Faye?"

Sighing, she looked up at me, her expression slightly irritated. I let it slide—I had to admit I'd been a little more impatient than usual with her that day. But the timescale on this one was tight, and my vague sense of unease was growing stronger with every second.

"Nothing, Zach. I have
nothing
. Just like the last time you asked. I'm working on it, okay? Just...give me some space.” Holding her hands up for emphasis, she crossed the lab, checked the display on one of her machines.

She has a strong work ethic, and I didn't doubt she'd been applying herself that day. Owning a girl for over a year gives you a sense of when she's stretching the truth, and today she wasn't. So instead of snapping at her, I stepped in close to her, murmuring into her ear, “Get me something in the next hour and I'll let you pick a reward."

Her ire abating, my little tease shot me a sideways glance. “Anything, Sir?” she asked, keeping her voice as soft as mine. One of the terms of her slave contract was that our games would be kept extracurricular, but I wanted my current suspect put away, and if this would help, then so be it.

A tiny voice reminded me that if she was working to the best of her abilities already, dangling a metaphorical carrot in front of her wouldn't change a thing. I ignored it, curious to see what she'd come up with. “Anything."

She flashed me a quick grin and headed back to her computer, her voice back to its usual volume. “I'll call you when I'm done."

Forty-eight minutes later she called my cell phone, her voice triumphant. “Got a match with twelve minutes to spare... You owe me!"

This should be interesting.

When we got to her place that night, arrest made and the case neatly tied up, I reminded her of her prize. “What'll it be, little tease?"

She didn't stop to think—I could tell she'd been thinking about it all day, and anticipation was practically radiating from her now. “I want to switch, Sir."

I thought about the request. Although she leaned slightly further towards the submissive, Faye was a born switch, and that hadn't changed since we'd brought Santoro into our bed a few months ago. My senior detective was commitment-phobic, and after his first scene with Faye in the Domme role, he'd decided he preferred it that way rather than topping her. We'd agreed to change our arrangement—when she felt like inflicting a little controlled pain, we called on Santoro. I joined in with some scenes, and let her indulge herself completely in others. All three of us were satisfied with the way things were at the moment—casual, with maybe one intense scene per month.

It surprised me that Faye would ask for carte blanche on it, though. It was something I was usually disposed to agree to when she asked. “Okay. We'll call Santoro."

Faye shook her head, grinning. “Not Santoro. You, Sir."

"
No
, Faye.” The words were out of my mouth the instant I thought them, and she scowled, dropping down onto the couch and directing a sulky stare at me.

"But you said ‘anything'!” She was going about the accusation in an unnecessarily bratty way, but she was right. I had. And she'd come through for me.

As much as I loathed the idea of relinquishing control, I wouldn't break a promise to her. So much of our relationship was based on trust that I wouldn't destabilise it now. Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair. “One scene, Faye. No more than that."

She flinched at my tone, but softened a little as I sat beside her.

"Promise me you won't safe word just to get out of it early?” The look I gave her in response was enough to dissuade her from questioning me, and she backed down with a murmured apology.

I waited a few seconds before letting the issue of her insolence drop, running my fingers through her hair. “When?"

Basking in the show of affection, she leaned against me. “How about now, Sir?"

God damn it.

It was on the tip of my tongue to delay her, but there was never going to be a time when I was feeling more submissive.

Might as well get it over with.

"Yes, ma'am,” I drawled, resigning myself.

Suppressing a grin, Faye initiated a lingering kiss that set my blood boiling.

"Thank you, Sir,” she breathed against my lips, then she was gone in a flash of red hair and dark clothing, leaving my mind struggling to catch up.

Within seconds she was back, a collar I recognised held in her hands. Santoro's. Made of a leather strip thicker and wider than the ones Faye wore, it was noticeably masculine, and though my mind protested at the indignity of having to wear a collar, I was grateful that at least it wasn't one of hers.

"Hold still,” she instructed, and I recognised the tone she normally used with Santoro—calmly authoritative. She always managed to fall into this role so effortlessly that sometimes I wondered if she could really be happy without an owned sub of her own. But that wasn't a train of thought to be followed now.

With deft fingers, she fastened the collar around my neck—not tight enough to constrict but tight enough that I could feel it.

Sitting back, she nodded approvingly. “There. Much better."

I kept my mouth shut, not crazy about the idea of addressing her as a submissive would, and waited for her next orders. She got to her feet and clicked her fingers in my direction without looking at me, indicating that I should follow suit. Suppressing a sigh, I did, mentally swearing I'd never give her carte blanche again. In fact, I'd be adding a clause to her contract that prevented her from trying this in the future...

Jarring me from my thoughts, she gave me the same instructions she would have given Santoro. “Go to the bedroom. Clothes off, and lie on the bed face-up.” For a mutinous second I hesitated, and she scowled at me. “If you make me repeat myself, detective, you won't like the consequences."

With a reluctant nod I acquiesced, heading through into the bedroom. As I shed my clothes, my analytical brain threw up a possibility. I might be having so much trouble with this scenario because it was Santoro's collar I was wearing, Santoro's situation I was in. I was used to being his boss and his top, and being in his place grated on my nerves.

Naked, I settled back on the bed, waiting. A couple of minutes later, Faye appeared in the doorway, making no attempt to disguise her appraisal of me.

"Not a bad sight,” she said critically, heading straight to her play-cabinet and beginning to rummage through it. “We'll work on it."

Her aloofness was something that always had a profound effect on Santoro. I just found myself giving her mental points for it, analysing her technique rather than getting lost in the scene. She pulled out cuffs and silk scarves for restraining me, and I decided to go with the flow and give her some pointers later. After I'd punished her. I was hazy on exactly what for at the moment, but I sure as hell was gonna find something...

She blindfolded me, then cuffed my wrists to the headboard with a couple of firm, confident manoeuvres. When she'd secured my ankles to each bedpost, effectively spreading my legs, she hummed her approval and trailed a finger across my chest.

"Better. Still needs a little work, but we'll get there. How's the circulation, detective?"

Testing each restraint, I told her, “It's fine."

A short moment of silence later, something cracked down on my left thigh, hard enough to sting.

"While you're in this situation, you address me as Mistress, understand?"

When this was over, she was gonna get the cane. No other punishment was severe enough.

"Yes, Mistress,” I growled in the direction of her voice, and faintly I heard the pattern of her breathing change as she bit back a giggle.

"Now, you be a good boy and lie quietly for a while."

I heard her moving around the room, the sounds of rustling fabric, drawers being opened and shut, and several other noises I couldn't identify. For a good five minutes, all I
could
do was ‘lie quietly', but just as impatience started to get the better of me, she spoke again.