by Qwillia Rain
Heat filled Lyssa’s cheeks as she watched him shed his clothes in a slow striptease.
“Show me,” he told her as he dropped his underwear onto the neatly folded pile and palmed his erection.
Hyperaware of his gaze, she lifted her knees so her heels could find purchase on the edge of the mattress. She propped herself up using her left arm and lifted the fingers of her right hand to her lips. If he wanted an exercise in control, she’d give him one.
Her eyes locked with his, Lyssa leisurely suckled on each of her fingers, wetting them thoroughly before lowering them to the silky flesh of her exposed sex. Lubrication was the least of her needs; she was soaking wet with excitement. She used two fingers to caress the swollen folds up one side and down the other. Moisture pooled beneath her, coating her fingers as she circled her opening before shifting upward to the bud of nerves aching for attention.
Heat flared in Mike’s eyes as he enjoyed the show. Lyssa moaned. Her clit was so sensitive that the softest touch from her fingertips caused her internal muscles to jump.
“Pinch it, pet. Squeeze and tug it just as I do. Remember, your fingers are my fingers,” Mike commanded.
Her hips lunged upward the moment she complied, a cry of surprise and need escaping her lips.
“Fill up my empty cunt, pet. I want all that hot, sweet cream smeared over my fingers and palm.” Mike gave the guttural directive as he moved between her spread thighs.
He didn’t touch her, merely hovered there for a moment before dropping to his knees so he was eye level with her sex.
Lyssa moaned, need coiling in her center, ready to combust. She pushed one finger inside, but it wasn’t enough. She added a second finger, stretching her pulsing sheath, sliding in and out, seeking out the pleasure spots Mike instinctively knew to hit.
There. Oh yes! Lyssa hummed with ecstasy. Again and again she rubbed and prodded the spongy spot, glorying at the tremors each stroke produced.
“More, baby. My pussy can take another finger. Show me how much you love the way I touch you.”
His words registered on the periphery of her senses. Lyssa was consumed by the sensations, the powerful heat building in her core. His voice blended with her motions, reinforcing the fantasy that the hands arousing her, pleasuring her were an extension of Mike’s touch. Pulling back, she added a third finger. It fit, but the stretch stole her breath. She dug her heels into the mattress, her left arm lost purchase, and her body tumbled back onto the bed. Between her thighs, she worked her fingers in and out of her sopping pussy, but that sweet spot eluded her.
Something wet and rough lapped at her naked mound, startling a cry from her lips.
Breathless, on the cusp of orgasm, she whimpered and looked down her body as Mike pulled her fingers free of her pulsing channel, denying the release her body so desperately craved. His brown gaze locked with hers, and she watched as he sucked the cream from her fingers and palm, humming with exaggerated relish at the taste of her juices. Forced to wait, her ardor slowly cooled, easing her away from the edge just as Mike stood up and tugged her upright.
“You don’t have permission to come, Lyssa.”
Her body throbbed, and her blood raced through her veins. She ached with the need to climax. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to handle her body’s need for release, but she’d do it if it killed her.
“Now, I want to feel your mouth around my cock,” Mike instructed. He helped her from the bed, holding her arms until her quaking legs could support her.
The moment she heard what he wanted, she wasn’t sure she’d survive the night. She dropped her gaze to the thick length of his erection. The tattooed crown was damp, the crimson and black barb wicked looking. Though his words registered, having never gone down on a man, Lyssa was unsure how to proceed. For the first time, she balked at his request.
His thumb coasted over her lips as he tilted her face up to his. “You have the prettiest mouth, and I know how beautiful it’ll look wrapped around my dick, swallowing me down.”
The words painted an image in her head. Anticipation stirred as she wondered what he’d taste like. How he would smell. Would going down on him stir the same sensations making love with him generated?
She swayed on her feet before him, a moan whispering from her lips as her already overstimulated body responded to the pictures growing in her mind. His hand cupped her chin, drawing her gaze to his.
“As my submissive, my pleasure is your only concern. See to my needs, pet. Make me come with those pretty lips. And don’t spill a drop.”
Indignation tried to rise at his command, but the minute shift in his expression warned her he was aware of her flare of discontent. She tempered her emotions. This was about control. About who held the reins over the other. And she had every intention of keeping a firm grip on them. It was the only way she’d survive. If not heart-whole, then at least she’d still have her pride. Resuming her role as sub, she dipped her head in a quick nod. “Yes, Master.”
She lifted her chin from his hold and gracefully lowered herself to her knees before him. She took her time, allowing her body to skim along his, a bubble of precum dampening her belly, smearing the edge of her breast as she caressed his erection with a firm grip, careful to avoid tangling the nipple chain around his jutting length.
At eye level with his tumescence, Lyssa stifled her gasp at discovering that at the halfway point along his shaft, the tattoo covered his skin all the way around. The head was completely inked, a pale drop of fluid filling the slit at the top. Remembering all the ways he’d used his mouth on her, Lyssa explored his length with her hands first. “It’s so big,” she marveled, wrapping her fingers around it, the tips not quite touching.
His fingers threaded through her hair. With a short tug, the soft waves caressed her shoulders and down her back as he removed the band securing her ponytail. She ignored the loosened blonde waves; her focus never strayed from stroking the soft skin of his penis. The way it shifted beneath her fingers and the firm pulse of his arousal fascinated her, compelled her to move closer.
Her body responded to the aroma drifting up, the musky male scent that tickled the need weeping between her thighs. Tentatively she leaned forward and rolled her tongue over the broad head. The salty flavor of his precum wasn’t distasteful. Beneath her fingertips, she felt him shudder. Looking up, she watched his face as she coasted her tongue around the crown a second time. A moan escaped Mike’s lips, and a flush washed over his cheeks as she opened her mouth and covered the flared tip.
The fingers cupping the back of her head speared through her hair. “That’s it, baby; suck it. Take it in.” His muttered encouragements were augmented by another moan as Lyssa stroked her tongue along the underside of his shaft, savoring the taste of him.
She worked her way over the head, sucking and licking before releasing it with a soft popping sound. When Mike groaned and his fingers clenched in her hair, Lyssa hid her smile.
Power surged through her, but she was unsure if it was based on her ability to stay in control or if it was pride in bringing him pleasure, as a good submissive was supposed to do. She moved her mouth beneath the head, lapping at the rigid vein underneath. Another tug on her hair sent a sting through her scalp, and her moan blended with the one Mike let loose. A smear of precum wet her cheek as she continued her exploration down his shaft to the heavy sac dangling behind its base. Much as she disliked doing so, Lyssa removed one hand from Mike’s cock to gently hold his balls.
They were warmer than his penis, the bundle drawn tight and close to his body. With one hand, she squeezed and stroked his aroused penis, moving slowly from base to head, then back down, while the other weighed and fondled his balls.
“Not too hard, baby,” Mike warned, his fingers tugging at her hair to raise her gaze to his. “Take ’em in your mouth. Taste ’em,” he prompted, watching her.
Lyssa’s eyes must have gone wide, because Mike smiled and a throaty chuckle rumbled out of him. Dropping her
gaze to the parts of him filling her hands, she wondered if he became as aroused as she was when he used his mouth on her. She’d enjoyed the quick taste she’d had so far. Curiosity as well as the desire to please Mike drew Lyssa to lower her head and take the lightly furred sac into her mouth. A voice whispered a warning about indulging the submissive within, but she ignored it.
“Oh yes. So fuckin’ good.”
Her breasts tingled at the heat lacing his words. The vibrations working outward from her center pulsed in time with the heavy rush of blood through the veins beneath her lips. Wanting more, she flicked her tongue along one side, then the other before letting them go and licking her way up the length of his cock. Did all subs feel this power? This thrill at satisfying their master?
“Let me feel your mouth, pet. Suck me,” Mike ordered, his hand covering hers on his shaft.
That was Lyssa’s goal. She opened her lips and covered the head. Taking her time, she swallowed more, rocking forward and back in tandem with the light thrust of Mike’s hips as he coaxed her to fill her mouth a bit more each time.
“God, it looks so pretty. Just like I imagined,” he assured her.
The tension in his body climbed. Was he keeping himself from moving faster, forcing his cock deep into her throat? The soft slurping sounds she made as she bobbed her head up and down on him, even the ache in her cheeks from suckling him barely registered as she listened to the rasp of his breathing increase.
The fingers in her hair clenched. The sting in her scalp arrowed through her body to her pussy, making her moan. The sound vibrated around his cock.
Mike groaned and tugged again. “Look at me.”
She ran her tongue over and around the glans as she pulled back and looked up at him. She could feel saliva dribble from the corner of her lips, but she ignored it.
“Swallow all of my cum,” he told her. “You must not waste any.”
Mind adrift in the sensations building inside her, Lyssa nodded and returned to stroking and sucking his cock. Her eyes closed, she moved her hand over the part of him she couldn’t hold in her mouth. The coil of arousal tightened in her core as she felt the beginnings of Mike’s climax pulse through him.
She swallowed down the cum filling her mouth without a thought, barely tasting it. Heat filled her cheeks, and her eyes opened. They met his and went wide as she tried to follow his command while enjoying how his face tightened into a grimace of pleasure and his body went rigid. Watching him, feeling his response fill her mouth, Lyssa trembled with her own need to orgasm, but she held it off—barely.
The tension in his frame eased as he began to pull away. “Don’t come,” he reminded her.
Lyssa shuddered as his cock slid free of her lips, still semihard and wet. On her knees, she rocked in place, unaware her hands had moved to his thighs to keep herself upright.
“Stand up.” Mike slipped his fingers from her hair and waited for her.
He did nothing to help her rise to her feet, merely watched. Her legs felt like half-set gelatin, wobbly and unsteady, and her breathing was ragged. Until she stood, Lyssa was unaware that her cream coated the insides of her thighs. Her body throbbed, desperate for release, for climax.
“A submissive’s pleasure comes from pleasing her master. You’ve done well, pet. I am very pleased.”
His words filled her with a warmth unconnected with her arousal. A hint of unease invaded her mind, but her need to come overwhelmed it.
Mike’s hands cupped her full breasts. The heat and scrape of his callused fingertips caressed her soft mounds, then touched the pinched nipples. She wasn’t able to contain her soft cry at the unexpected pain. She lifted her hands to grasp his forearms as she swayed in front of him.
“You do not have permission to come, pet. That is your punishment.”
The information registered as his fingers moved to the clamps and then waited. Frustration welled inside her, but Lyssa left it unvoiced as another feeling presented itself—acceptance.
“The pain will push you, and you’ll want to give in, but you aren’t allowed to. Do you understand?”
Breath ragged, tears welling in her eyes, Lyssa nodded. The tenuous hold she maintained on her body grew shakier by the second.
The moment he released the clamps, Lyssa sobbed and her knees buckled. On the periphery, she knew Mike had caught her and held her close as her body quaked and shuddered, but the pain filling her breasts was a bit more than she’d expected. The blood rushing back into her nipples hurt, but the pleasure that rippled through her body in its wake almost broke her resolve. She pressed her head against Mike’s chest, gripping his arms tight, unconsciously digging her fingernails into his skin as she fought to retain control.
When she could breathe easily again and dared to look up at Mike, she read the pride in his gaze. Before she could take another breath, he swung her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. With a bit of maneuvering, he tugged the bedding down and settled her against the cool sheets.
“Very good, Lyssa.” He smiled down at her and pressed a kiss to her brow.
A tiny part of her, long buried and left unfulfilled, heard the satisfaction in his words. Fear rose. Aware now that her plan to keep from allowing herself to be affected by this month of training didn’t appear to be succeeding, she wasn’t surprised to hear the automatic response that fell from her lips. “Thank you, Master.”
Need coiled low in her belly, a steady throb, the slightest bit painful. Lyssa focused on that feeling, knowing that should she break one of Mike’s rules, she would experience it again. Throughout her ruminations, she was acutely aware of the sounds Mike made as he left the room and moved through the house, turned off lights, set the alarm, secured doors and windows before returning to the bedroom to slide beneath the covers.
His arms wrapped around her, tugging her up against his body as she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Nine
The tree-lined drive was similar to the one that led to the Club, but the turreted rooftop with its distinctive widow’s walk and the crash of waves on the nearby beach set Pirate’s Folly apart from the Diablo Blanco Club. Mike eased his foot off the accelerator as he slowed his truck and parked in the curved drive of his brother’s home. His mind wandering through the pleasant events over the last week with Lyssa, he grimaced at the ringtone that resembled the theme song to The Exorcist, and pulled his phone from the clip on his belt. As much as he respected Max Landry’s business acumen, there were times Mike could easily have shot the bastard. After he fired him, of course. “Halsey.”
“I swear to God, boy, if you don’t get your head on straight—”
He cut the older man off. “What are you calling to complain about this time, Max?”
“You haven’t been right since you went back to that hick town,” Max growled.
Mike shut off the engine and dropped an arm over the steering wheel. “Did you call for a reason, or are you just wasting my minutes to bitch at me?”
A rumble of curses and growls echoed against Mike’s ear, but Max didn’t hang up. “I’ve got a job. You don’t even have to leave that Podunk hole-in-the-wall of yours if you don’t want to.”
Mike’s gaze traced the railing surrounding the front porch of his brother’s home. The thick Ionic columns supported the second-floor balcony before rising to the edge of the railed widow’s walk. “Keep going.”
“A photographer canceled on Upscale at the last minute. Some spread to show off a bunch of wedding dresses.”
Mike stayed quiet; he could hear the disgust in his agent’s voice at the idea of Mike wasting his time on a fashion shoot. The click of a lighter and the sound of Max drawing on a cigarette came before his agent’s raspy cough. “And you’ll like this part. It’s for that designer broad you’ve got a hard-on for.”
Mike could feel his lips thin with anger. “Want to try that again, Max?” His voice carried a clear message. A message the older man received with ill grace but absolute clarity.
&
nbsp; “I told ’em I’d call you, but their price is too low. It’d barely cover my commission at your regular rate,” Max complained.
“Tell them to add another thousand and I’ll do it.” After the last week, Mike had no intention of leaving San Diablo until his month with Lyssa was up. There were two possible outcomes to this next month: one, he convinced Lyssa who owned her and that his intentions were permanent; or two, she refused to admit to her feelings, and he began formulating another plan to win her over for good. He refused to turn his back on the years he’d loved her and start looking for another woman who would return his affection. If it came right down to it, he’d employ his big brother’s method for keeping his woman—he’d get Lyssa pregnant and make her marry him.
“Damn it, son. You can’t start going backward—”
Mike ignored his agent’s protest. “I’m retired, Max. I’ve been telling you that for four years, but you’re not listening. When do they want to schedule it?” He tried to remember the other commissions waiting for his attention, but he’d never been that great about keeping track of time. If he was going to make his studio productive, he’d have to find someone to help manage it. “You said it was wedding dresses?” Mike asked. The thought of getting Lyssa alone in his studio required him to shift his position on the front seat to accommodate his body’s reaction.
With her as his submissive, there should be no reason for her turn him down if he asked her to pose for him. Hell, the only reason he’d stopped asking her to do it was because her refusals began to get physical. Now would be the opportune time to finally get her naked and in front of his camera.
Oh, the pictures he’d imagined…
“I’m telling you, Mike, this is a shit job. Let me get back in touch with Hargreaves. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to get you on board,” Max coaxed.
