All's Fair in Love and Mastery

by Sparrow Beckett

  By the time he’d gotten to what had to be his fiftieth swat, his palm felt like sandpaper against her skin. She whined and wriggled, trying not to howl. Her nipples were hard and crushed beneath her, her pussy so hot that if he even dragged his gaze across it she’d probably orgasm.

  He pulled her underwear down then, making her whimper. So fucking close to coming! His hand smoothed over the hot flesh of her ass, and he groped it a little before resuming. Apparently he was determined to spread the abuse to the parts of her the underwear had semi-protected.

  By the time his hand slowed she was sorer than she could ever remember being from a spanking, and she lay limp against the hood of her car, feeling almost boneless.

  “I’m going to fuck you now,” he growled in her ear.

  “Condom?” she asked weakly.

  “You think I’d show up unprepared twice?” He held a condom packet in front of her face and she whined with impatience, tipping her hips to make it easier for him to shove into her. He pressed his palm against her temple, pinning her head to the car, and dug his fingertips into her hair, curling them there, making her feel helpless. He tried to enter her with one savage thrust, but her body wasn’t having it even though she was humiliatingly wet. No one had been inside her since the last time they’d been together and her body seemed to have forgotten how to accommodate him.

  “You like to fight, little girl, but your cunt is so fucking hot for me.”

  She moaned with humiliation, knowing it was true, and desperate for him to give her more.

  Mercilessly, he forced his enormous cock into her, until she felt stretched almost beyond capacity. His hand on her temple shifted insultingly to cover the upturned half of her face, as though even looking at her pissed him off.

  Fuck, this man felt so amazing—so right—buried balls deep in her pussy.

  He withdrew almost to the tip, and she whined, unreasonably worried he’d just stop and walk away. Hard and fast, he plunged back in, hurting her, and she bit back a moan of pain. He fucked her with long, hard thrusts and she couldn’t do anything but take it, focused on the hand on her face and how degrading it felt. Small and helpless beneath him, she clung to her car, wondering if anyone was watching, even though there was no way she could bring herself to stop him.

  Every thrust hammered him into her G-spot. She closed her eyes, reveling in the debauchery, accepting the pleasure pain he forced her body to accept. Heat crawled through her, his breathing harsh in her ear, his body mastering hers.

  A spontaneous orgasm ripped through her, sparking, cramping waves of agonizing bliss through her entire body. Her ass burned worse every time hips connected with her skin, and her pathetic whimpers sounded loud to her own ears. Arousal tautened her belly, burning, dragging her closer to a second, more earth-shattering orgasm, but every time she was about to come again, he changed rhythm. She backed against him in frustration, whining for him to fix it.

  “Such an impatient little bitch,” he growled in her ear. “You’ll take what I give you and nothing more, understand me? If you come again without permission I’m going to make you a very sorry little girl.”

  “Please, can I come?” she asked immediately, knowing she was painfully close to losing control already.

  “I’ll tell you when and not a second before.” His voice was harsh, his breath stirring the hair behind her ear, tickling and making her squirm at the shivery sensation.

  “Now, please,” she begged. His cock felt huge inside her, and every thrust slapped his balls against her clit. Her ass throbbed.

  The first tremor of her impending orgasm accidentally shuddered through her and he yanked out. She cried out in frustration, stomping her foot and banging her knee on her car bumper in the process.

  “Please, please can I have it back? I’ll be a good girl.”

  His fingers toyed between her legs, teasing, smacking, making her swear between apologies. He rubbed her own slickness over her asshole and she mewled in denial even as shocks of pleasure made her gasp.

  Jeez, not her ass . . . not with that monster of a dick!

  “You disobeyed.”

  “Only a little. Please, you can’t fuck my ass. You’re too big and you don’t even have lube.”

  “You probably should have thought of that before you disobeyed and pissed me off.”

  God, could he be any hotter? He really was a sadistic bastard.

  “Please, don’t hurt me.”

  “I think you like it when I hurt you, Arabella. I think I’m the only man who’s had your number for a long fucking time.”

  When she didn’t argue or safeword, he pressed his finger against her anus, forcing her body to accept his invasion. He squeezed a second finger in alongside it without giving her much time to adjust, then the head of his cock was pushing, broaching her slowly, the burning ache of taking his girth making her gasp for breath. Between what little lube there was on the condom and the slickness he’d stolen from her pussy, he shoved into her, inch by inch, until she was panting with the strain of taking him fully into her body.

  “Fuck, I hate you,” she whined through clenched teeth.

  “Tell me it hurts.”

  “It hurts!” More specifically, it burned and ached. His fingers dug into her hips hard enough she knew he would leave bruises there. At least his hand was off her face now. As he withdrew slightly and then took his first thrust, she glanced back. He looked like evil incarnate, his hair having come loose from his braid, a lock of it obscuring part of his face, the gleam in his eyes all unholy lust and sadism.

  He shuddered above her after only moments, his gasps of pleasure sending thrills of lust through her body. A ripple of orgasmic pleasure pulsed through her tragically empty pussy, and her ass twitched around him. He swore, then bit the back of her neck over the collar of her shirt, grunting against her skin, trying to control himself. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn he’d jabbed a red-hot iron poker into her ass, but she could feel him twitch and flex inside her.

  Drawing a loud breath, he finally moved again, fucking her with long, hard thrusts. It hurt so good. She screeched and whimpered, trying to grab on to something on the hood of the car to brace herself, but was too short to reach anything helpful.

  “Bad girls get used,” he snarled so quietly it was almost under his breath. “You could have been a good girl, Arabella, but you’re always full of bad choices, aren’t you.”

  She shuddered, digging her toes into the soles of her shoes, each of his thrusts a reward and a punishment. The agonizing pleasure held her tight, her pussy throbbing and eager and sulky, only wanting release. Her body was rigid, primed for her next orgasm, but before she let go of her control, she remembered she was supposed to ask first, even though it was too late to stop herself.

  “Please, can I come?” she panted, knowing it was too late.

  He gave a broken laugh and his body seized above her. He groaned as if he was mortally wounded, and even if she hadn’t been close already, the sound of his pleasure would have set her off. She came with long, painful spasms that took forever to subside.

  “No,” he murmured in her ear, his voice full of amused sarcasm as his body slumped over her own. “You can’t come. Such a bad girl.”

  Crushed to the car beneath him, she tried to laugh, but found herself inexplicably wanting to cry.

  Chapter Six

  Grant helped Arabella clean up the best they could in the awkward silence of the parking lot, then walked her back into the building to search out the restrooms they’d passed on their way out. He’d hugged her to him before they’d headed back inside, but she’d made a few flippant jokes and pushed him away.

  Why was he such an idiot?

  After so much time resisting her, he’d finally caved at the worst possible time. The condoms he’d slipped into his pocket when he was leaving his apartment had been too
much of a temptation, maybe, but there was no excuse. He was a grown man, not a hormonal teenager, and definitely not an animal. There was no doing aftercare in a parking lot, and she meant too much to him to have done something this impulsive and stupid. Besides, how was he ever going to get her to commit to him if he caved like this?

  Arabella went into the restroom and he stood there awkwardly for a moment, not sure what to do. He paced the hall, then went into the men’s room to wash his hands and get rid of the condom he had wrapped in tissues from Dex’s car.

  Tarka walked into the men’s room just as Grant threw the wrapped condom in the garbage. The other man’s expression was amused and Grant wondered if Tak knew what he and Arabella had been doing.

  “There you are. Will has been looking for you for about twenty minutes. I told him I saw you and Dex headed out back almost forty-five minutes ago, but the parking lot was empty when I went to check—other than a couple fucking on the hood of a car, way out by the trees. It was hot. You missed the whole thing.”

  Grant grunted noncommittally and washed his hands, hoping Tak didn’t notice how red his face was. Under the warm water, his hands burned like fire from spanking Arabella for so long, but he forced himself not to react.

  “We went for a walk because the hall was getting too hot. Why was Will looking for me?”

  “I think he wanted to make sure you didn’t go home with Juliet’s sister. I told him I saw Sarah giving you her number and he seemed relieved.” Tak chuckled and clapped him on the back. “Just beware, I think that one is looking for something long-term.”

  “With me? I doubt it. Women don’t generally think of me that way.” Their conversation was stalled by the howl of the blower while he dried his hands, but Tak didn’t give up.

  “Women don’t think of me that way either, but that’s the way I like it,” he said as soon as the dryer stopped.

  In the mirror, he saw what a mess his hair was. He pulled the elastic from his braid and combed his fingers through it, wondering if he smelled like sex.

  They walked out of the restroom and met up with Arabella, who was just exiting the ladies’ room.

  “Hey Tak, how’s it hanging?” Arabella asked, looking completely unruffled.

  “To the right, thanks for asking. I can’t believe you guys went for a walk without me. One of the vanilla cousins has been hanging off me all night. I don’t have the heart to tell her it’ll never work.”

  “You never know. Maybe she’ll be like Juliet.” Arabella looked skeptical even as she said the words, but who knew, really?

  The three of them walked into the hall together, and Grant wished he could have had another chance to talk to Arabella alone first. She was acting as though nothing had happened, but his feelings were all over the map. He felt light and relaxed in the aftermath of the crazy orgasm he’d had, but he was upset that there’d been no aftercare or even much of a conversation afterward.

  More than anything, he really wanted to kiss her. He wanted to take her home with him and tuck her into his bed, curl his body around hers, and hold her until morning.

  In a perfect world he would have gotten just that. Instead, he got dragged into some weird line dance with Juliet’s sisters, his mind forced to shift gears from fucking Arabella on the hood of a car to being polite and social with Will’s new in-laws.

  By the time he made his way back to Arabella, she was slow dancing with one of Juliet’s brothers. He cooled his heels, waiting for the song to end, then had to try not to glare as the guy walked her to the refreshment table and got her a glass of punch. Nothing like leaving the aftercare to some clueless kid.

  “There you are,” Will said, practically bumping into him while ogling his new wife from across the room.

  “Here I am,” Grant confirmed.

  “I’m moving wedding gifts to the car. I think we’re taking off in a few minutes to go to the hotel.” Will looked restless.

  “You in a hurry to consummate your marriage or something?”

  “I hope she takes it easy on me. I am a virgin,” Will replied.

  “You might want to open my gift first then,” Grant said, punching his brother’s shoulder. “There are some smelling salts in there in case you swoon.”

  “What are we swooning about?” Arabella asked, joining them.

  Will chuckled. “Sex, naturally. I’m hoping Juliet takes it easy on me since it’s my first time and all.”

  “Ew, sex. I’m thinking of taking a vow of chastity.” She cut Grant a look that Will seemed to miss. Grant wanted to drag her off and ask if she was still contemplating chastity after he played some orgasm denial games with her. “Maybe I’ve just been fucking the wrong people.”

  Will looked distracted. “If a guy doesn’t get you off, don’t give him another shot.”

  “I’m sorry to hear you’ve had some unsatisfactory dick lately,” Grant murmured to her as Will crossed a few feet to meet up with Tabitha, who was holding a sleeping Beau in her arms. He could hear his brother making arrangements for when they’d be home tomorrow. No wonder he was looking so stressed. He never left Beau overnight if he could help it.

  “I wouldn’t say unsatisfactory so much as a little more brutal with my poor ass than I’m used to.”

  He grimaced sympathetically. “You should come home with me tonight. I’ll take care of you.”

  “I have a vivid recollection of how you take care of me,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I think I need a nap. Maybe an ice pack. Not necessarily in that order.”

  “So come to my place. I’ll take care of you,” he repeated.

  She shook her head. “I don’t stay the night. It’s one of my rules.”

  “Oh, for fucksake. Forget your rules, just this once.”

  “Nice try, Master Grant.”

  A growl of frustration lodged in his chest and he wished he had some sort of right to override her decisions. This was the entire problem with fucking women who weren’t collared. They had too much say in things. It was frustrating and inconvenient.

  It sort of hurt, too, being put in his place. He’d been nothing more than a recreational fuck to her tonight. Then again, she’d made it clear what she was and wasn’t willing to offer him. He was the one who’d overstepped.

  He frowned, but held his peace, determined not to ruin his sex buzz by starting another argument. It had been far too long since he’d felt so relaxed.

  They helped move the wedding gifts into the back of Will’s truck, then played supportive roles as guests left. By the time they were stacking chairs, Juliet had shooed her family off, and only kinksters were left in the hall. Grant felt himself completely unwind bit by bit.

  “You never realize how much you have to watch what you say until you’re at gatherings like this. I kept worrying I’d say something inappropriate in front of one of Juliet’s relatives.” Tarka sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “That was fun, but exhausting.”

  “A couple of times one of Juliet’s brothers said something that could have been innuendo, but it so wasn’t. I kept having to stop myself from laughing,” Arabella confessed. “Even though the older ones worked on the Catacombs renos, I still feel like I’m too dirty to talk to nice people.”

  “Well, you are pretty dirty,” Tarka agreed.

  “You’re not wrong.” She yawned, mouth wide and unashamed, like a kitten. She was so bloody adorable. Grant had to resist the urge to wrap his arms around her so she could lean on him. Wanting to hold her and not being able to was a terrible feeling. “After a day filled with pretending to be innocent, I just want to go on a kink vacation somewhere. Is that even a thing?”

  Tak yawned too. “There are resorts, I’ve heard, but I’ve never looked into it. Clubs are enough for me.”

  A kink resort? Now, that would be fun. He hadn’t even realized there was such a thing.

  “Are they on
deserted islands where I can wander around naked without horrifying people?” Arabella asked, yanking at her necktie.

  “You can strip down right here and now,” Tak offered. “I won’t complain. Hell, if you come across a difficult button or something I’d be only too glad to help you out.”

  Grant narrowed his eyes and Arabella frowned at him minutely, silently warning him not to get pissy. He had a feeling that Tarka was yanking his chain. Honestly, what were the chances he hadn’t realized it was them having sex outside earlier?

  But then, Arabella didn’t know that. She didn’t want people to know they’d been together.

  Nothing had changed between them. She still wanted to just be friends.

  He’d have to accept that.

  * * *

  * * *

  The suburban quasi-mansion nestled in the midst of picturesque parkland had been off-limits to Grant for so long he’d almost forgotten how to get there. It wasn’t that he’d ever been uninvited, he’d just decided one day that being in Arabella’s house inspired far too much intimacy and familiarity—especially since he’d helped her choose it, along with everything in it.

  Almost every salesperson involved had mistaken them for a couple.

  The house had almost felt like his own for the longest time, considering the fact that he’d moved her in, helped set up her furniture, and had even decided what cupboard her water glasses should be stored in. Seeing the place after having been away for so long was an almost painful blow. He grieved what they’d lost almost as much as he grieved what they could have had if she’d just let it happen.

  Actually, he regretted the loss of her friendship more than anything in his life—even more than he regretted estrangement from his father and sister. His stepmother he didn’t miss at all, although the cliché of that embarrassed him.