“Understood. We have a lot of good Doms here, trust me.”
“I’ve met a few, but most were claimed already, like Master Eric. I think Master Tristan might be one too. He turned me down, preferring someone who wanted him rather than a pathway to membership.”
He chuckled, a warm, wonderful sound. “You’ve got them both pegged, but considering Eric is the dominant in the relationship, he’d probably disagree with the claimed part, but we’ll keep that between us.”
She nodded, realizing how that sounded. “Thank you.”
He grinned, something she noticed he did easily. “You’re very observant.”
“Observe is all I’ve done these past twelve weeks, sir.”
“Something I had hoped to change tonight.” Cupping her chin, he held her gaze as he asked quietly, “To do so, I’ll need your answer.”
She paused, rewinding the conversation in her head to find the question.
“Me or continue your search?” he asked patiently. “What’s your choice?”
“You, sir.”
Chapter 9
Choosing him was a huge step forward for Esme, even though to do so was out of necessity. Heat suffused her face at the way she had answered quickly, without hesitation—her eagerness more than apparent. When she glanced up to glean Master Finn’s reaction, his smile reached his brilliant eyes and communicated his approval sufficiently; he also verbalized it.
“I am pleased, lass, and eager to get started, which brings us back to where we were before we got sidetracked with all this seriousness.”
She tilted her head, again, unsure what he meant.
“We were discussing your clubwear and how good your ass looks in this skirt.”
With his delightfully sexy brogue, your was yer and ass came out as arse; she could listen to it all day. On edge, as she was, she managed to contain a giddy laugh, but not the smile curving her lips.
“Did I say something amusing?” His soft burr pitched lower than before sending a shiver down her spine.
“Oh, no, sir.”
“Then it must be me you’re laughing at.”
“No, sir!”
“Good, because I assure you, I am not here for your entertainment. It’s the other way around.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry, but I’m nervous, and your accent, sir. It’s distracting.”
He moved in closer, his chest brushing against her breasts, as he dipped his head to hers. “You don’t like it? Most American girls do.”
“Oh, well, yes…” she breathed, shivering as his wonderful, masculine scent filled her senses. “You can consider me one, sir.”
“Hmm…” he hummed in amusement, the hand at her face, moving down to her collar, his fingertips tracing along the v at the front of her blouse. Her shivers intensified, and her nipples already peaked from the coolness of the room, stood up harder and almost painfully tight. “I’m glad I meet with your approval, lass. I can assure you, I like what I see, but I want to see more. Your hair is a lovely color, but the French twist doesn’t work for me. I prefer long and loose, which gives me something to sink my fingers into, or to wind around my wrist should I take the notion.” Without releasing her, his big hands dropped to her hips, and he took a half step back. “Take it down.”
She didn’t hesitate, searching for the pins in the loose bun. She’d used eight that morning, a couple falling from her nervous fingers, bouncing with a ping on the hardwood floor before she located all of them.
Master Finn brushed her hands aside, using his steady, long fingers to fluff the thick, wavy mass that tumbled over her shoulders and down her back. Next, he pulled it forward in two skeins to stream down over her breasts. “Beautiful,” he murmured.
Feeling shy at his praise, she looked down, watching as he picked up a springy curl from over her breast and rubbed it between his long, tanned fingers. The back of his hand brushed the hard peak which tightened in reaction.
“Relax, lass.” The deep cadence of his voice made it almost impossible not to. “Nothing will happen here that you don’t want to.”
At that moment, it wasn’t a comforting thought, because she wanted this man to do everything, her body needing him too, so badly. Swaying slightly, she leaned toward him, his pull on her magnetic.
“You’re called Esme, an unusual name.”
“It’s my middle name, actually. My mother lost a bet with my father.”
There was a pause. “I don’t follow.”
“He won and got to choose my name.” She shrugged. “It’s rather a long story; my parents were rather nutty.”
“A feeling most children share, but best left for another time, perhaps,” he suggested as she felt a button release on her blouse.
She breathed out, glad for the change of subject. Thoughts of her parents, always bittersweet, didn’t belong here, in a sex club of all places, where a practical stranger had less than wholesome intentions in mind for her.
“What was that?”
“Sir?” she asked, her eyes coming up to meet his.
“You had a disturbing thought.”
“Oh, no. It was nothing.”
“Nothing doesn’t make you frown. I’d like to know what it was.”
“I, uh…” With the good came the bad: observant, demanding, intent on getting inside a sub’s head.
“If you’re to be mine, whether for an hour, the evening or beyond this first session, you will be mine in all ways. Mind and body, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered, both responding to the firm authority in his demand.
“Then tell me what disturbed you.”
“Our conversation seems to circle back to, well, rather inappropriate things, like my folks, when very soon…”
“I’ll be using their daughter’s body,” Master Finn finished for her, having no trouble putting it into words, “in whatever depraved way I see fit, baring her, fucking her, taking a crop to her ass if she doesn’t please me? Perhaps it is inappropriate, but considering we’re in a torture chamber straight out of the middle ages, not much about our situation is what you’d call proper, is it?”
“I guess not, sir,” she replied, a rasp present from her mouth and throat having gone suddenly dry.
“Which is half the fun.”
He tugged on the curl he still held, then his hand fell away, and he walked across the room. A few moments later, she heard the creak of leather.
“Come here, Esme.”
Turning, she scanned until she found him. It took a moment in the flickering light of the wall sconces, his black-on-black t-shirt and leather pants blending with the dark high-backed chair where he reclined. He crooked a finger, summoning her like a medieval lord ready for a tankard of ale and a whole lot more from his serving wench.
She padded across the rough-planked floor. When she drew near, he shifted, spreading his black boots wide apart. She didn’t misconstrue his silent command and stepped between them. Now, the sight that greeted her was long legs and thickly muscled thighs encased in black leather. Her gaze inched higher, and she couldn’t miss the outline of his cock behind the button fly and how the impressive length angled down his inner thigh. Immediately, a flood of wetness rushed to her pussy, and she could think of nothing except him stripping her bare and filling her, wherever and however he wanted.
Finn’s heels softly scraped the floor as his legs closed, not pinning, but enfolding her. His hands, which were resting on his thighs, barely had to move for his thumbs to dip beneath her skirt hem. They did nothing more than glide over her bare skin, leisurely stroking as though he had all the time in the world.
“Brush back your hair and open your blouse, I’d like to see the nipples which have been tempting me since the moment I walked in here.”
With trembling fingers, she undid fabric covered buttons and separated the two halves revealing her white lace bra—not a ratty old one, thankfully, of which she had several. In this one area, luck had been on her side.
&n
bsp; “Very nice,” he murmured, the rolling r in very suddenly more pronounced. “And a front hook, how convenient. Open it. I’m anxious to see if the tips match the pinkness of your lips.”
Already tight, her nipples constricted more at his command and were aching for his touch by the time she unlocked the plastic clasp and peeled the cups away. Still keeping her eyes angled downward, she felt the heat of his gaze on her rose-tipped size C breasts.
“Rosy all over, I’m pleased, Esme. Remove both the blouse and bra.”
She obeyed, letting the silky material and slightly scratchy lace slide down her arms and fall to the floor behind her.
His fingers curled behind her thighs. Then his hands slid up to her backside, where he palmed both cheeks, before moving them up to her waist taking her skirt with them.
“Turn around.” When she did, Finn released the button on her skirt and lowered the zipper with a distinctive wisp. “Now, step out.”
Easier said than done. Even with the zipper undone, the skirt was snug. It took some shimmying to lower it over her behind, something she felt was disproportionate to her frame. Not J Lo big and nothing near a Kim Kardashian bubble butt. It was full, round, and always had been, no matter how much she dieted, or how many spin classes or Pilates she attended.
Please, let him be an ass man.
Once past her hips, the skirt dropped to her ankles. When she tried to kick it aside, however, it got tangled. She bent forward to pull it free, but when she started to rise, he demanded gruffly, “Stay just like that.”
So, there she stood, her big booty in his face, while his fingers explored. They skimmed up the backs of her thighs and over both cheeks in a whisper-soft caress that made her squirm.
“Be still,” he ordered while continuing the sensual massage, his thumbs slipping between her thighs to stroke the narrow strip of fabric, which by now, had to be soaked.
The hum must be a habit, she decided, when it rumbled again from his chest.
Balancing with her eyes closed, when he stroked over her clit, she jerked, and the air left her lungs in a whoosh. She was about to tell him she couldn’t take any more without coming apart, but the words evaporated on her tongue when his fingers curled into the waistband of her thong.
“As alluring as lace is on your flawless skin, this too must go.”
Lungs frozen, body vibrating with need, and still bent forward, she willed herself not to come as he tugged the lace and satin over her hips. After so long with nothing other than a self-induced orgasm, this was cruel and inhumane torture. It intensified a moment later when his lips, open and warm, touched her skin.
She sucked in a breath to keep from passing out, which was a good possibility with her practically standing on her head, and a sexy, commanding man, licking her bottom.
“Sir, please.”
“You’re trembling.”
“I’m getting dizzy.”
“Mmm,” he murmured, sucking on her skin a moment. “We can’t have that.” He steadied her with his hands on her hips “Step out of the panties, then turn and face me.”
If he wasn’t holding onto her, she would have toppled over, when one at a time, she lifted her feet. With the skirt and panties in a bunch on the floor, she caught them with her pointed toes and kicked them away. When her feet were clear of the tangle of clothing, she turned in a half circle back to him.
“Take a breath.”
She closed her eyes and did as she told him.
“Again.”
After blowing out, she inhaled once more and opened her eyes. She didn’t meet his gaze, focusing on his chin instead, feeling it was safer as she tried to calm her sex-starved body.
“Better?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Having you faint would put a damper on our evening, don’t you think?”
She nodded.
“Breathing is essential then, lass.”
His voice, the accent, the way he kept constantly touching her, like now as his thumbs slowly swept over her hip bones, and the fact she was naked while he remained fully clothed, made her feel vulnerable, aroused, and submissive all at once.
Again, she nodded, afraid if she spoke she’d make all sorts of rude demands, like take me… use me… fuck me.
“Look at me, Esme.”
Her gaze rose to meet green eyes framed with silky black lashes set in a beautiful masculine face. Straight nose, high cheekbones, full sensual kissable lips. As he regarded her, his lips twitched slightly. “I’m at an advantage. I knew who I was meeting tonight. You’ve barely looked at me since I came in. I trust, since you haven’t run screaming from the room, you don’t find me completely hideous.”
She suppressed an eye roll although it wasn’t easy. “Hardly, sir. You must know how handsome you are.”
“I’m relieved you think so, but maybe you could prove it by looking me in the eye, rather than down at your hands, over my shoulder, or at my chin?”
“I’ll try, sir.”
“That’s a good lass.”
With her eyes on his, she saw when they dipped to her breasts, then moved lower, and she watched as he took the backs of his fingers and lightly ruffled the triangle of red-gold curls at the top of her thighs which she kept neatly trimmed.
“I like this bit of fluff. Spread for me.”
She hesitated ever so slightly, drawing his gaze, and earning her a warning arch of one dark brow.
“Disobedience will get you a rosy red ass, my girl.”
Instantly, she parted her legs. “I’m sorry—sir.” Her voice broke, the result of his fingers sliding between her thighs and over the smooth lips of her pussy. She had shaved closely that morning, taking meticulous care in preparation for tonight.
“Soft in front, like silk in between, very nice. Bend to me.”
“Um…” If she did so, her breasts would dangle in his face.
“Now,” he drawled, his low intonation making it sound like a growl.
She complied immediately after that, and as predicted, her breasts hung before him like ripe fruit. As a penalty for her hesitancy, his lips surrounded one nipple, and he sucked it into his mouth. She felt the edge of his teeth, and let out a quavering cry, part groan, part ragged breath, and toward the end a high-pitched whimper. Her arousal wet her thighs as she arched her back, offering him more, not that he needed an invitation. By her consent, she was his for the evening.
He released the taut peak with an audible pop. Not leaving her wanting for long, thankfully, his open mouth traversed the valley between her breasts and latched onto the other tip with equal ferocity.
Before she knew it, her fingers entangled in his thick wavy hair. Esme’s eyes flew open, when he encircled her wrists and pulled her hands free. She found herself staring into his amused gaze; shocked she’d had the daring to touch him without permission, especially their first time together.
“I expected you’d be out of practice, not that you’d have forgotten your manners entirely.”
“Oh, sir… please, forgive… my, uh, forwardness.”
He framed her face with his hands. “Ah, lass, I tease. I’m not as strict a Master as that. If you’re not allowed to touch, speak, or if I want your eyes lowered, I’ll tell you. Or, I’ll bind, gag, and blindfold you to ensure that you don’t.”
A gasp escaped as the fire of her arousal reignited.
Keiran smiled and brushed a tender kiss on her lips. “While we’re getting to know one another, I like your spontaneous reactions. I want to see the fire in your eyes, hear the sounds from your lovely mouth, and to feel your hands on me. And, Esme, I’d never punish before explaining my rules. Is that clear?”
She nodded, forcing out a ragged, “Yes, sir,” when both his brows rose once again.
“How long has it been since you’ve been spanked?”
She shouldn’t have been surprised by his directness, most dominants were, but he had the uncanny ability to home in on the problem after talking to her twice, tonight included.
“Here’s a perfect time to give you a rule. I expect truthful answers to my questions.”
“Four years,” she uttered promptly in reply. “I tried the public clubs, but they didn’t… It
wasn’t…” She dropped her gaze.
“You didn’t find what you needed.”
“No.” The single word was barely a whisper, but it echoed in the stark room.
“And how long since you’ve cried, Esme? Not crocodile tears, but really let loose and had a good, hard cry to release what you’re holding deep inside you?”
“Forever, it seems.”
“Your husband wasn’t able to give you that?”
“No,” she whispered. “It’s been since my parents died. After Andrew, I was numb.”
“Darlin’,” he said softly, a world of understanding in his tone.
Before she could blink, or think, she was face down over one hard thigh. He hauled her in close to his body, then his hand curved around the back of her neck keeping her upper body down while his free leg settled over both of hers. Held securely, she didn’t teeter and doubted if she could buck or kick, and she didn’t need to reach for the floor to steady herself. Instead, she wrapped her hands around his leg, and curled her fingers into supple leather, and hung on for she knew what was coming.
His hand came down hard on her bare bottom.
“My rules are few, lovely Esme, but non-negotiable. Complete obedience while we are in the club. I dislike hesitancy so expect a bottom warming if you delay. You will come often, but only when I say. Punishments will be appropriate to the crime although never more than you can bear. And, I will not limit them to your naughty behind. We’ll use the club safewords, red and yellow, which I expect you to use when needed, but are not to be taken lightly or abused.”
While he listed his rules, he steadily smacked the full curves of her bottom. These weren’t trifling, teasing swats, but crisp, heavy-handed spanks meant to prove to her who was in charge. It had been years since she’d felt anything like it. She’d forgotten how much she craved a dominant’s control, and how the pain of correction mixed with the intense pleasure of submission, and the euphoria that she knew would follow.
Dare to Love Again Page 10
