Masters 02 Master of the Abyss (6 page)

“Poor sprite,” he murmured. He slid his hands up farther and traced the crease between her hip and pussy. She stilled, barely breathing, legs apart, her pussy open in front of him. His finger glided around the edges of the little butterfly, over her mound, and down to stroke through her swollen folds. She was very wet, and she wanted more so badly that she shook. And that stupid thing covering her clit blocked him from touching her there.

When she opened her eyes, she realized he was watching her, his blue gaze intent. Suddenly he pushed a finger up into her, a thick, shocking intrusion.

“Ah!” She shuddered as the pleasure ballooned so hard and fast that her knees wobbled. Biting her lip, she steadied her legs. Movement caught her gaze and she realized Logan and Simon were watching. Hell. She was naked, her legs spread, a man’s finger up inside her. Heat rushed into her face. Oh, no, she really couldn’t do this. “Jake, I don’t—”

The butterfly thing turned on, vibrating right against her swollen clit, and everything inside her clamped down. Pressure built within her, coiling tighter with every second that passed. She panted, needing…needing…

When the vibrator stopped, she stood, paralyzed for a moment, totally unable to breathe. He slid his finger out and closed his hands on her hips, holding her as her legs buckled. His chuckle seemed to shake her bones.

As her heart raced, everything down there hurt, burned, throbbed with need. She barely kept from yelling at him, managed to hiss only a simple: “You bastard!”—and even then her words came out too loud, too angry.

His laugh was deep. Strong. Melting her bones like chocolate in the sun. “Such language. Now you’ve earned that spanking I’ve been wanting to give you.” He rose to his feet, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Of course, if you hadn’t earned one, I’ve have given you one anyway. Just because I feel like it.”

Her mouth opened.

“Yes, and you would have taken it.” He gripped her arm as she tried to catch her breath. A spanking. Yes, he’d mentioned that before. But…but what about sex? When he’d stood up, she’d thought…

A tremor shook her as his intent registered. A spanking, here, in public, not in his room. And not a boyfriend she didn’t take seriously, but Jake. How hard was he going to hit her? Her stomach sank as her anxiety ratcheted up. This was Jake, who she already knew wouldn’t just slap her butt a couple of times, wouldn’t stop if she was uncomfortable, wouldn’t stop if she yelled. Only if she used the ‘Barney’ word. Her breathing increased to that of a terrified Pomeranian.

Ignoring the way she dragged her feet, he tugged her to a leather couch in front of the fireplace and stopped behind the back. After removing her cuffs, he spun her to face the couch. “Bend over it, sub.”

She eyed it. Her bottom would be toward the room…the people. She tried to turn, to check who was watching.

“They’re not your problem. I am.” He set his hand between her shoulder blades and steered her firmly into position. “Don’t worry. Everyone will admire your pretty ass, especially when it’s glowing pink from my hand.”

Oh dear God
. Embarrassment surged through her and, disconcertingly, a little thrill at being so exposed, especially in front of men she now knew. Logan and Simon—what would they see? What would they think?

Not waiting for her compliance, he pushed her shoulders down. The top of the couch hit her right at her stomach, cool and smooth, and she inhaled the scent of leather. As she bent farther, he ruthlessly pulled her hips upward until she was bowed in a V, with her bottom high in the air and her legs dangling. Her mound lay against the couch, pressing the butterfly into her clit.

She braced her hands on the seat cushions to keep from sliding right off. “Jake!”

He casually slapped her butt. “Silence, sub.” Just the mild sting and the feel of his hand sent more anticipation curling inside her. She closed her eyes and rested her forearms on the cushions as need swamped her embarrassment. From farther back in the room came the sounds of a whip, each crack accompanied by a man’s groan. A woman begged in a high voice near the front. The low hum of conversation rose above the moody music.

Something closed around her left ankle—a cuff—and he drew her leg toward the end of the couch. A metallic clatter and a click. When her leg wouldn’t move, she realized he’d restrained it—with a chain? He cuffed her other ankle and pulled outward, tethering it to the opposite end of the couch. Her butt in the air and now her pussy wide open.

She wiggled, trying to move her legs. No give. Fear tensed her muscles.

He stood, and his jeans brushed against the back of her thigh. “Very pretty, sugar,” he said, his voice a dark caress that slid her fear into heat. “I like seeing your ass high and open. I can play just how I want…as long as I want.”

Her breath shuddered out.

He kneaded her bottom with strong hands, then teased the crease at the top of her thighs. The butterfly pressed on her clit, and she wanted it back on, dammit.

His finger brushed between her legs, sliding through her folds—oh so wet—around and around her entrance until her entire pussy swelled with need. Each time he nudged the butterfly, a jolt of exquisite pleasure pierced her clit. She wiggled helplessly, trying to get more.

“A squirming little sub, nicely positioned for my enjoyment.” His rumbling voice seemed to fill the air around her. “Ten strokes, I think, for mouthing off to your dom.”

“What?” she gasped.

“Eleven.” He swatted her bottom like she’d bat at a mosquito, a mild slap. It didn’t hurt but sent her nerves to zinging. Suddenly he pushed a finger into her, a fast, merciless intrusion, and his other hand slapped her lightly again. Her attention, every nerve inside her focused on how his finger slid in and out of her swollen tissues, ever so slowly. Oh, she needed more.

She pushed up with her arms, trying to raise her butt, and received a stronger slap, a bite of pain. “Be still or I’ll tie your hands too, Kallie.”

She stopped, afraid to move. His finger thrust in, out, never stopping. Her breathing turned to shallow panting. And then the butterfly thing turned on.

“Aaah!” She quivered as it drove her higher, until all she could feel were the vibrations.

His hand came down on her bottom, hard this time, the stinging overwhelming the sensations on her clit. Amplifying them. He pushed another finger inside her, stretching her, pumping in and out. And then the vibrations increased.

Her back tried to arch; her hands closed into fists. She was going to come, needed to come, just a little more…

He spanked her harder, and each blow alternated with the forceful thrusts of his fingers. Burning pain on her skin, followed each time by sizzling pleasure from inside. The vibrations seemed to grip her clit, and she tightened around his fingers, the pressure inside her growing to an explosive point, waiting for one little…

He stopped the spanking and slowed the vibrations—
damn him
. The sensation of his fingers inside her became everything, and each slow slide flooded her senses with exquisite, overwhelming pleasure, keeping her right on the precipice. Her legs strained against the cuffs as every muscle in her body grew taut with the wait.

Slap
. Her bottom burned from the severe blow, and even as the harsh bite of pain ripped into her and tears filled her eyes, his fingers plunged deeper and she plummeted off the precipice as sheer pleasure blew outward—fierce, bright waves of sensation exploding through her until the world itself seemed to move. And move. And move.

Eventually, her brain turned back on, although her heart still tried to pound out of her chest.

The vibrations had stopped.

He stood between her gaping legs and massaged her burning bottom until her pain tangled itself with pleasure. She heard herself moan and choked at the powerless sound.
This is not me
. The spasms still reverberated far inside her.
I don’t want this to be me.

“Let me go,” she demanded. Her attempt to make her voice strong failed utterly.

“Oh, I don’t think so, pet,” he said, and she heard something. A
zip
. A crinkling of a wrapper.

“Jake?” Her pulse that had finally slowed picked up the pace, and her muscles tensed.

He gripped her hip with his hard hand, and then she felt him, huge, pressing into her at a snail’s pace, stretching her painfully despite how wet she was. He eased deeply into her. Her breathing had barely slowed, and now she gasped for air. She felt overfilled.

She squirmed against the sensation, and his strong hands flexed on her hips, keeping her immobile. “Hold up, sprite.”

As the feeling of being overpowered swept through her like an avalanche, she tensed, then relaxed. He was in charge. She wanted him in charge.

“That’s right, sweetheart.” His low, rumbling voice stroked her like a warm, comforting hand. “That’s a good girl.”

Her insides throbbed, and then, as if a switch had been flipped, he felt shockingly good, as if every nerve inside her blazed awake—even before he started to move.
Oh dear God.

Slow. Faster. Each slide of his cock was thrilling; each new thrust stretched her again, and spasms of pleasure rocked her. As her need built higher and higher, the sensations began to overwhelm her. She clutched the edge of the couch cushion, the only thing she could control in this universe. The restraints kept her open for him, with her bottom placed just right for his penetration, and his powerful grip immobilized her. The feeling of helplessness rocked her, returning like the tide with even more arousal.

Each thrust shoved her mound against the soft little butterfly. And suddenly it came to life, vibrating against her still-engorged clit.

“Oh, fuck…”

Jake grinned when the little sub muttered the curse, and her hips started wiggling uncontrollably. He anchored her well and drove in hard and deep. Damn, she felt good: hot and tight around him. And despite being new to submission and being embarrassed, she responded honestly.

Joyously
. The wonder wrenched at his heart. And then she came, her voice raised in husky cries.

He flicked the remote off and bent to cup her breasts as he took his own pleasure. Like a hot fist, the powerful contractions of her vagina milked his cock, and soon all the willpower in the world couldn’t stave off his own climax. The bulldozer rolled over him, starting at his feet, squeezing all the blood into his balls until they drew up to his body. He groaned as his cock jerked, as the white lightning of incredible pleasure ripped through him with each one. He sagged against her back for a second and realized her hand was rubbing his wrist.

Damn, she was sweet. Tough little Kallie. According to her family and friends, she’d been the terror of the high school, trying to outmacho her big cousins and every other male also. But here? She was all woman. He kneaded her breast gently and felt the quiver shoot through her body and her cunt spasm around him. Smiling, he nuzzled her neck, stroking her gently, not ready to break the connection yet.

What connection
? He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath.
There is no connection.

And yet energy flowed between them. As her surrender and response heightened his own pleasure and increased his ability to read her, he could play her better, which increased her response, and on and on, spiraling upward into the instinctive dance linking a dominant and submissive.

“Stay put for a minute, sugar,” he murmured and pulled out. After disposing of the condom, he untied her, removed the butterfly, and stood her on her feet. Her eyes looked dazed, her mouth soft and swollen. Come to think of it, he hadn’t sampled her pretty breasts yet.

Those ugly clothes she always wore had definitely concealed her body and the very responsive female inside them. He might have felt foolish for not looking closer, except that she’d had the attitude to go with it. Why the attitude and the unfitted clothes?

“Come here, Kallie. Let’s sit a bit.” He scooped her up, the size of her giving him a pang of memory—
Mimi
—that disappeared at the wholehearted way Kallie snuggled against him. Mimi had always held something back, her reserve rarely broached except during a scene. From what he saw, Kallie’s nature was
hold nothing back, full speed ahead.

As he took a seat on the couch they’d fucked on, he noticed Simon. Leaning against a table and talking with his sub, the dom had obviously been watching.

Jake freed one hand and pantomimed drinking. Simon nodded, and a minute later, Rona carried over two bottled waters. Her heavy-lidded eyes spoke of recent satisfaction, and he grinned. “Thank you, blondie. By the way, can I assume you lost the second battle against Becca?”

She flushed.

“Is Simon going to make you suffer for your lack of control?” Jake raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I should offer him a few suggestions. Perhaps a good flogging?”

The crackling sound from one bottle indicated she was tempted to dump the water on him even though she knew he was teasing. A glance at her master—yes, Simon was still watching—evidently changed her mind. She glared at him for a second before giving up and laughing. “You’re such a jerk.”

When he chuckled, Kallie stirred. “Here, little one.” He curled her fingers around the bottle and spotted an annoyed look on her face.
Two glares in two minutes. Doing well, Hunt.

“I am not little,” she muttered and sipped the water, then drank thirstily.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, sprite, but you are definitely little.”

The bum. Kallie sighed. So far the evening had been…magnificent. Why did he have to ruin it by calling her little?

His eyes gleamed with amusement. When one half of his mouth turned up in a smile, a crease appeared in one cheek. Unable to help herself, she reached up and ran her finger down the line, and it deepened. Because she’d touched him.

Her gaze lingered on his lips. He’d possessed her mouth and taken her, spanked her. Her butt burned, and her insides still shook.

And God, she wanted him to do it all over again.