Zurlo, Michele - Two Masters for Samantha [Awakenings 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (38 page)

He hated that they hadn’t touched yet. Screw begging. Alexei was too close to it himself. He placed one hand on her hip and the other behind her neck. She softened, surrendering to her anticipation of his kiss.

She tasted sweet and warm, like star-filled summer nights brimming with the promise of eternity. Her lips parted eagerly, and she kissed him back with unrestrained passion. He liked that she didn’t hide it from him. Samantha wasn’t a game-player. She was here because she wanted to be with him.

When he ended the kiss, they both trembled with the aftershocks. He ran his hands over her shoulders and down her arms. She was soft and pliant, yet strong and determined to take what she wanted.

“Lie in the center of the bed on your back.”

Samantha turned to crawl onto the mattress. It wasn’t more than a step away, and for that she was grateful. Lex kissed too well. It took him long enough to get around to it, but she wasn’t going to complain. He had never disappointed her in the past. The muscles in her thighs were almost liquid. Through sheer force of will, she stayed on her feet long enough to do as he asked.

He rummaged in an armoire across the room. It was too far from the bed for her to be able to see exactly what he was doing, and the stiff collar around her neck prevented her from the simple, everyday movements for which she was developing a new appreciation.

It didn’t matter anyway. As soon as he returned to the bed, he slipped a black blindfold over her eyes. Though he didn’t touch her, she felt the subtle magnetism of his body hovering inches from her own. She didn’t speak or move, and she was soon rewarded with another breath-stealing kiss.

“You’re a very beautiful woman, Samantha, in so many ways.”

The pressure on the mattress next to her disappeared. Sam felt the vibrations of something shaking the bed frame at the four corners. He seemed to be attaching something. As he worked, she wondered if she was allowed to return the sentiment. Could she tell him how attractive she found him? Would it please him to hear the words? She did want to please him, desperately so.

Of the two of them, Alexei was more difficult to read. He hadn’t seemed upset or annoyed when she came in the room, but the more he looked at her, the more displeased he had seemed. Her loss of the Smart Balls hadn’t seemed to matter to him. Yet, Samantha couldn’t identify the exact cause of his upset.

His warm hand wrapped around her calf, lifting her leg. The leather cuff Stefano had buckled to her ankle dropped away. Alexei massaged the muscles up and down her leg with his long, strong fingers before moving it closer to the corner of the bed. Soft velvety material encircled her ankle, and then his hands dropped away. Samantha tested the bond and found it secure.

Alexei repeated this routine with her other leg and with each of her arms. The firm pressure of his touch, the way he came close to her pussy and breasts without ever touching them, and the immutability of the bindings combined so that she dripped with need by the time he finished tying her, spread-eagled, to the bed posts.

He kissed her again, another of those lip adventures that left her limbs weak and her body pliant. His whispered words from the evening before came back to haunt her, and she understood that he was taking another step toward proving his mastery of her body. He demanded more from her than Stefano, and he always had. Samantha understood that he always would.

When he finished, he didn’t move away. Though no part of this body touched her, she was acutely aware of just how close he was. If he lowered himself one inch, his chest would brush her nipples that were already pebbling in anticipation. The clamps didn’t keep them hard; they kept a steady pressure that both teased and hurt.

“Where are we, slave?”

His use of that term affected her differently than it had the night before. She didn’t know why her psyche had shifted so much, but she didn’t mind the word. It was more than a definition of his relationship to her. He used it the same way Stef called her “honey.”

“Green, Sir.” She had to force the entirety of his title out of her mouth. It came out a lot more sibilant than she intended. Part of her wanted to call him “Master,” and part of her railed against it.

He left the bed. “I’m going to start on your right side, centering on your breast.”

Samantha wasn’t sure whether knowing where he was going to whip her was better than not knowing. He and Stef hadn’t told her before. The location of the blows had been as much a part of the surprise as was the sweetness of the pleasure-pain mix.

The first blow landed. The instrument was thick and cylindrical. If her nipple hadn’t been clamped, it wouldn’t have hurt at all. Her body had acclimated to the pressure of the metal pincers. By the time she had finished clearing the bedding, they were on fire. That fire had faded to numbness by the time Alexei had begun to bind her to the bed.

Now it was back full force, and it let loose anything it might have kept in check before. Alexei didn’t wait for her gasp to subside. His blows fell over her breast with regularity, only the angle of his trajectory changing. When the blow came more from the sides, the tendrils of the cylinder came apart, revealing the instrument as a whip. When the whip came straight down on her, they clung together, and the whip acted as a rod.

Sam wasn’t sure which sensation she liked more, but she abandoned the thought as the range of the whip widened to include the sensitive areas of her upraised arms. When he moved lower, the thick leather straps of the outfit blocked the force and the sting of the lash’s licks, depriving Samantha of a feeling she craved more than anything else.

He moved down her leg and up the other side. He murmured words to tell her where he was going next, but Samantha was too focused on the fire he lit on every square inch of her body to understand anything. Now both of her breasts were on fire. Her skin tingled with warmth and the anticipation of more to come.

Then the tongues of the lash land on the mound of her pussy. Sam’s body shot straight up off the bed, a reaction that surprised her and caused him to stop.

“Where are we, Samantha?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Green, Master. Oh, please don’t stop!”

“It’s going to hurt a lot more with the clamp on, Samantha. Do you want me to remove it?”

Remove it? He hadn’t technically whipped her pussy yet. She knew he was going to do it, and she knew she would love the sensations. Removing it wasn’t an option. She would prove to herself and to her Master that she could take it.

“No, Sir.”

“If you change your mind, call yellow and I’ll take it off. Call red and I’ll stop.”

The softness and affection in his voice caught her off guard. From the first moment she met him, Alexei had been firm and dominant. He wasn’t a man with whom many people argued. Sam wouldn’t have a problem arguing with him, even though she wasn’t sure how he’d take it.

“Yes, Master.” Sam bit her lip. She couldn’t believe that title slipped out, but it sounded so right. He had mastered her body. She would do anything, say anything to prevent him from stopping.

It took far longer for that next blow to fall than she thought it would. He struck so that the falls fanned out, covering as much surface area as possible. She knew he purposely diluted the force. He was preparing her to take more. These bits of logic washed through her mind and vanished into the recesses. All that mattered right now was her Master and what he was doing to her.

Alexei’s bed was huge. Binding her ankles to each of the posts exposed her completely, pulling her so far apart that her pussy lips couldn’t have closed if they wanted. Samantha lost track of the number of times she felt the sting of the lash. She moaned and gasped. She twisted and writhed. She hated when he spread the blows out along her thighs, on her mound, and across her pelvis.

“Come for me, my beautiful slave. Give your Master the ultimate show.”

His tone left no room for disagreement or failure. Sam hadn’t realized how close she was to orgasm, but the moment he gave the order, she relaxed her body. She surrendered to him completely, screaming out her climax with the very next blow.

Master—his identity had shifted for her—knelt between her legs. His large hands with those long fingers explored every inch of her body. The straps holding her legs in place loosened and fell away. They were pointless anyway. Samantha had no control over her legs anymore. They were weak and useless.

He touched her in all the usual places, but he didn’t stop there. He caressed her ears. He touched every inch of her face. His fingers slid beneath the mask to outline her eyelids. His possessive touch traveled down, finding the ticklish places in her armpits and the cleft at the top of her butt crack.

When at last he lifted her hips and rammed his hard cock into her, Samantha knew that every cell in her body had been marked, branded by her Master. Three times, he commanded her to come. Three times, she came for him.

He collapsed on top of her, and she wanted for him to never move.

A little later, he did stir. Samantha moaned when he lifted his weight from her.

“Where are we, slave?”

Thrills ran through her. This was more than she had been able to wring from any other lover. She thought he might be finished with her, but all doubt fled with his question.

“Green, Master.” She wished the blindfold was gone, but other than that, she was good for another round.

His chuckle vibrated through his chest, tickling her nipples. Gentle fingers eased the clamps away from her nipples and her clit. Sam hadn’t realized how sore they were until his tongue traced the paths, soothing away the ache.

“Sore?”

Samantha’s laugh startled even herself. It tinkled forth from deep inside, a truly happy bit of laughter that had been missing from her life for some time. “If I’m not sore after being with you, then it wasn’t a good night.”

“Afternoon.”

“Whatever.”

She whimpered when he touched her clit. The bed dipped as he shifted his weight. He didn’t bother to avoid touching her this time. His chest and his side rubbed against her as he reached toward her hands. The bindings on her wrists fell away, and then he eased off her blindfold. She clapped her hands over her eyes to shut out the painful glare. It took her a minute to adjust to the bright afternoon sunlight streaming through his gossamer curtains enough to take her hands away.

When his face finally came into focus, she found his grin cocky and his eyes soft. “I’m hungry, Samantha. I propose we take a little break and get us both something to eat. Then I’m going to bring you back here and show you what a Master does for his slave when she behaves as well as you’ve behaved today.”

Now that she wasn’t tied up and the afterglow of everything he did to her was fading, the titles of Master and slave didn’t sit well with Samantha. Sitting up, she crossed her arms over her breasts. The leather straps that made up the totality of her outfit exposed her more than she liked. It hadn’t bothered her before, but it bothered her now.

Alexei hadn’t waited for her agreement. He had finished his proposal with a grin and then he had disappeared into the bathroom. Samantha heard the sounds of running water. Her hands went to the collar encircling her throat. It wasn’t like the collar Alexei had wrapped around her neck the night before. It was taller and made from PVC. It didn’t breathe and it didn’t allow for movement. Thought she hadn’t noticed it much for the past several hours, it stuck to her skin uncomfortably.

She took it off.

She did the same with the ridiculous outfit in which Stefano had dressed her, dropping it all to the floor next to the bed.

How could two little words, one of which she uttered, completely change her perspective?

Samantha opened the third drawer of Alexei’s chest of drawers, reasoning that underwear and socks probably occupied the top two. Neatly folded stacks of shirts occupied that space. Before she could talk herself out of it, she snagged one and drew it over her head. It was big on her, but not too big that it drooped from her shoulders. The hem fell to mid-thigh, the same length as the sundress she had worn for two days.