Master of Solitude (Mountain Masters & Dark Haven Book 8)

by Cherise Sinclair

  Ethan chuckled. “Or, more likely, disregarding your limits.”

  His aura really was beautiful. Unthinking, she started, “I like your”—um—“accent.”

  “Thank you, poppet.” He smiled and added, “It always reappears when I return to England, then fades in a month or so. Be that as it may, I think you’re stalling…” He glanced at Sawyer.

  “Yes, she’s evading an answer.” Sawyer tilted her chin up with two fingers. “We don’t have to play, pet. However, in a public place, I can take you further than I did last time. Because it would be safer for you.”

  Under the intense blue of his eyes, she couldn’t find a reason why not. In fact, her body yearned for his touch. For him. Her gaze caught on the slight curve of his firm lips…and the crease to the right of his mouth slowly deepened.

  Oh. She was staring at him like a star-struck girl. Think, woman. Did she want to do a scene with him out where people could watch? “I’ll try.”

  “The club safe word is red, Mallory,” Ethan said before asking Sawyer, “What kind of scene do you have in mind?”

  “Bondage, definitely. I’d like to see how she does on a spanking bench, although we won’t employ it in that way. I’m thinking mostly sensual play. She’s new.” Sawyer looked at her. “I want to try a few things and see what you like, pet.”

  She nodded. Trying stuff out was…well, what she was here for, although she’d thought merely to watch.

  “Very good.” Ethan’s gaze traveled around the room. “Ah, I know just the device. The bench has a quite useful attachment. Follow me, please.”

  Ethan wove through the room easily, collecting quiet greetings from various Doms and bowed heads from the submissives. A few looked as if they wanted to fling themselves in front of him to be noticed. Well, she could understand that—the Englishman was truly gorgeous, and the refined authority he exuded was compelling.

  And yet, Sawyer’s rock-solid power was even more exciting. Ethan evoked an impulse to bow. With Sawyer, she wanted to salute…or kneel.

  In a corner, Ethan stopped beside an odd device that vaguely resembled the other long, padded sawhorses in the room. Or maybe she should call them super narrow picnic tables. The submissive lay on the top, and her forearms and knees were strapped to the planks on either side, putting her into a doggy posture. This table was wood with black padding, but the top was shorter than the lower boards. And she saw various attachment-like things under the table.

  After a slow look, Sawyer grinned. “Perfect. And in a corner, no less.”

  “I’m glad you approve.” Ethan added, “If you like, I’ll stay long enough to show you how the attachments work.”

  “I’d appreciate it.” Sawyer pulled her closer. “I want you to strip while I check the toys Simon lent me.” Lowering his head, he kissed her lightly, teasingly, then deeper. Wetter. He gripped her loose hair, pulling her head back as his tongue stroked hers and explored. His other hand cupped her ass, pulling her against his hard erection, as he claimed her lips.

  The room dissolved until all she felt was him—his mouth, his hands, his muscular body.

  Straightening, he held her until her head stopped spinning, kissed her forehead, and…waited.

  She stared at him for a second. Oh. Strip. Biting her lip, she glanced around. In the corner, the bench faced a wall, and a few chairs formed a boundary between this “area” and the center scenes. Farther down the wall was a scene with an X-shaped cross. Sawyer was right. The corner was quieter. Unfortunately, people still wandered past. They’d see her.

  Mallory tried to slow her breathing. She’d gone skinny-dipping, and in many Peace Corps countries, nudity was common. But she’d never been publicly naked in a…sexual…type situation.

  Sawyer leaned patiently against the wall with arms folded over his chest. His expectations were clear.

  She didn’t want to disappoint him.

  Well, she didn’t have much to remove, at least. Because of the sheer dress fabric, she hadn’t worn underwear. Casting her inhibitions away, Mallory pulled her dress over her head and stood there. Naked.

  Sawyer’s gaze warmed. “Good girl.” He glanced past her. “Lovely, isn’t she?”

  “Quite.”

  Mallory felt the heat of a blush in her face. Spit and hiss, she’d forgotten all about Ethan.

  When Sawyer smiled, she realized his gaze had never left her face; he was reading her expressions the way she did auras. He pointed to the floor beside the bench. “If you’ll kneel there, I’ll check what Simon lent me.”

  The floor was hard against her knees. Cold. Her breasts wobbled, making her all too aware of her nakedness in a room of strangers. She felt appallingly exposed—and excited.

  Sawyer had set the toy bag on a wooden rolling table in the corner, and as he pulled out various things, the knowledge that he’d use whatever he found on her sent goose bumps parading up her skin.

  He took out a paddle and a cane, and to her relief, returned both to the bag.

  A mushroom-headed thing stayed out. Sawyer glanced at Ethan. “Electric socket?”

  “Beneath the bench.”

  Sawyer caught her staring. He squatted on his haunches, putting his hands on each side of her face as he looked into her eyes. “You’re doing very well, Mallory,” he murmured in his smooth voice. “Now, go one step further. Submissives in the kneeling position keep their backs straight—and their eyes down. Look at the floor.”

  She searched within herself for her instinctive need to refuse such orders…and found only pleased acceptance instead.

  When her resigned sigh escaped, his lips quirked up. He pressed a light kiss to her lips before he rose.

  While looking down, she couldn’t see what he was pulling from the bag. Her anxiety rose a few degrees, which was probably the entire point, wasn’t it?

  “This should be a good start,” he said finally. “Ethan, let’s get her onto the bench.”

  “Permission to touch?”

  “Granted.”

  Sawyer bent, took her hands, and pulled her to her feet. What did ‘permission to touch’ mean?

  She found out seconds later after Sawyer guided her to the end of the padded stomach-height table.

  “Face-down position, pet.”

  She put a knee on one low plank and swung her other leg over. The long, narrow length of the top supported her torso. Sawyer positioned her right knee on the lower padded board. On the other side, Ethan did the same. Although Sawyer stroked her leg as he drew a strap over her ankle and secured it, Ethan’s hands were firm and impersonal. They moved up and strapped her forearms down in the same way.

  When they finished, she was restrained on her forearms and knees with a long bench under her torso. The lower benches were far enough apart to force her thighs open into a wide V.

  She lifted her head and looked around. It was humiliating to have her nether side facing the room. Otherwise… “I guess this isn’t so bad,” she said, half to herself.

  Ethan’s clear blue eyes met hers—and she saw his amusement before he reached under the table beside her waist, pulled out a strap, and waited.

  At the bottom end of the table, Sawyer gripped her hips and pulled her toward him until the table edge was under her pelvis. And her ass stuck way far out. Too far.

  Even knowing her behavior wasn’t obedient, she attempted to wiggle back up the table.

  The reason for the strap—and Ethan’s amusement—was clear when he handed it over the table to Sawyer, and Sawyer pulled it snugly over her waist and secured it.

  Her next attempt to move up on the bench failed completely. Her ass was going to remain stuck out in the air.

  Sawyer was watching her face, and laughter danced in his eyes. He glanced at Ethan. “I love bondage.” With an intimate smile for her, he reached under her chest and moved her half-squished right breast out to the side, then nodded at Ethan—and the other Dom did the same.

  It felt…weird…to have a stranger touch her. Ye
t, Sawyer’s gaze was on Ethan, monitoring everything. The feeling of being protected was lovely.

  Sawyer pulled the equipment table closer, removed something she couldn’t see, and both Doms crouched under the bench, messing with the equipment. Absentmindedly, Sawyer was stroking her thigh, and his warm touch was incredibly reassuring.

  “When you’re ready,” Ethan was saying, “simply turn it on and lift up. It takes a firm grip to move it side to side. This is the release lever when you’re ready to lower it.”

  “Got it.” Sawyer chuckled. “That’s a nice design.”

  “It is indeed quite useful.” Ethan rose and looked at her. “Again, poppet, the club safe word is red. Will you remember that?”

  She nodded.

  With a slight smile, he touched her cheek. His gaze lifted to Sawyer. “If you have everything in hand, I’ll check on a couple of other scenes. However, I’ll be in the area and will return off and on to monitor. Don’t hesitate to ask someone to find me if you need anything.”

  “Will do. Thank you, Ethan.”

  As the Dom strolled away, Sawyer ran his hands down her back. His callused palms were hard—and ever so gentle, despite his strength. “Relax, Mallory.”

  She closed her eyes, hearing the sounds of the dungeon around her, the snapping of some sort of whip, moans, low-voiced directions. Under it all was the low thrumming music of Mechanical Moth. “Black Queen Style”. Her heart took a rhythm in time with the beat.

  As Sawyer’s strong fingers massaged the tightness from her shoulders and the muscles down her back, she felt as if she were melting into the table.

  Bending, he kissed her nape and down her spine.

  Her toes curled with delight.

  “Such a beautiful ass,” Sawyer murmured. He kneaded her cheeks, edging ever closer to her exposed…wet…pussy.

  When he finally slid his fingers over her folds, a shuddering heat coursed through her.

  Oh, sun and stars. With a low moan, she wiggled, wanting…needing more.

  “Easy, baby. We’re not in any hurry tonight.” He drew his finger slickly around her clit.

  He might not be in a hurry; she was.

  Slowly, his finger slid inside her, thrusting in and out, raising her arousal even higher. His other hand caressed her bottom—and then he slapped her ass lightly.

  And again, harder.

  The sting shocked through her. “What are you doing?” She tried to lift up and couldn’t move. “That hurt.”

  “Easy, Mallory.” He chuckled, totally at ease. “Some women like an edge of pain. For many, it enhances the experience, and you don’t know if you don’t try. In addition, there are many kinds of pain. You might like one and not others. Try a few more swats on your ass, nymph, and we won’t go further.”

  He paused. Giving her the chance to say no.

  Gritting her teeth, she tried to relax. But, hiss and spit, her bottom stung.

  After a minute, he slid his palm over her butt cheeks, keeping his other hand pressed against her pussy. He delivered two more quick smacks and stroked again. Another.

  Ouch.

  “I’m not seeing any indication you like this, pet.” She felt his lips touch where he’d struck her. A gentle kiss. Running one hand over her back, he moved to the head of the bench.

  Unsure if she wanted to be here any longer, she pulled at the restraints on her wrists. Her chest was hollow with disappointment.

  Crouching, he caressed her cheek and looked into her eyes. “Mallory?”

  “You shouldn’t—” At the concern in his eyes, she bit back the rest of her words. “I don’t like getting hit.” On the other hand, he hadn’t hit her that hard, had he? Really, the swats hadn’t been harder than ones she’d received from friends. She breathed out slowly and admitted, “You scared me.”

  “I see that. I should have explained better what trying things out might mean.” His hand was warm on her cheek. “I plan to try a variety of common techniques. A few you might find mildly painful. You might find the pain transforms into pleasure, into excitement. Nothing I do will result in more than briefly red skin.”

  Mildly painful she could take. She wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t find getting spanked exciting.”

  His lips curved slightly. “I noticed. I’ll always stop and talk if you need that, pet. If you truly get frightened, use your safe word.”

  She frowned. “I’m not sure I understand the difference between wanting to talk and using a safe word.”

  “Ah.” He considered. “If you want to talk or look uncomfortable—or even say no—a Dom’s first response will be to stop what he’s doing and check in, see what’s wrong, maybe talk you through it or change the technique. If you safeword, the Dom will immediately start releasing restraints to get you free. The scene is done right then.”

  “Like a panic button.”

  “Exactly. Some people use yellow to say they need something changed without stopping the scene. Green means you’re enjoying it, keep going.”

  “I can remember those.”

  “Good. But, Mallory, you’re new. Even if you forget the colors, it’s all right. I’m going to be right with you, figuring out what you’re saying. What you need.” His eyes were steady on hers. He was totally in control of himself—and her.

  Hearing he wouldn’t go faster than she was ready for and would listen to her concerns eased the edgy worry in her stomach. “Okay.”

  “Ready to continue?” His finger stroked over her lips, and the heat in his gaze spiraled her own up higher.

  “Yes. Um, yes, Sir?”

  His grin was fast. “Having been a captain, I always like hearing a ready yes, sir, or aye, aye, sir.”

  Hadn’t she just known he’d been an officer? She snorted and got a quick kiss.

  As he rose, she noticed the healthy bulge in his furry pants—and the height of the table put that bulge level with her mouth. Clever people, these Doms.

  To her surprise, he didn’t move back to her pussy. She felt his warm hand cup her dangling breast.

  Ooooh.

  His chuckle said her tiny wiggle didn’t go unnoticed. He played gently, then harder, rolling the nipple between his fingers as the fire inside her blazed hotter and hotter. His powerful fingers pinched the peak right to the very boundary of pain, sending zings of electricity straight to her pussy.

  His free hand gripped her hair and pulled her head up. His determined eyes held hers, reading her right to her soul as he pinched her nipple again.

  Every bone in her body melted into the bench, leaving her limp. And wet.

  Very, very wet.

  His firm lips relaxed into a smile. “There’s a pain that agrees with you, pet.”

  If she could catch her breath, she might agree. As he gently let her head down and stroked her hair, a tremble ran down her spine. From the quirk of his mouth, he’d also seen how having her hair pulled affected her.

  He picked up something from the table. Running his hand over her back, he rounded the table to the other side and leaned over to kiss her nape and shoulders. She felt his hand close on her left breast. Again, he pinched the nipple, and the throbbing increased there—and in her clit—until it, too, felt massively swollen.

  “Yeah, you like that edge,” he murmured. Hand cupping her breast, he kissed her tenderly, lingering sweetly on her lips. Moving down, he kissed the curve between her neck and shoulder, and lightly bit here there. As his fingers worked her nipple, his other hand closed on her shoulder, holding her down as he bit her nape.

  Heat swamped her, as if she’d been lowered into an erotic fire. The moan that came from her was one she’d never heard before.

  He continued with firm nips up the back of her neck.

  Goosebumps rose all over her body, sensitizing every inch of her skin. She wasn’t sure—her eyes might have rolled back in her head.

  He straightened and then both his hands were on her left breast. Something cold pinched the nipple…and tightened.

 
Ow. She tried to pull away, but the waist strap was too tight. She couldn’t move. Slowly, the pain transmuted to a low, urgent throbbing, and she realized she was panting.

  His hand was on her shoulder, his gaze on her face as he studied her. “Nice. Let’s put a clamp on the other breast so you don’t feel unbalanced.”

  “But…” Her protest died under his perceptive gaze. It hurt…wonderfully…and he knew it.

  This wasn’t who she thought she was.

  But a woman should know herself, accept herself. “Yes, Sir,” she murmured and won herself an approving kiss.

  When he did her right breast, both her nipples throbbed in time with her heartbeat.

  His fingernails ran down her back, and the feeling was amazing. With one hand, he stroked her back with something fluffy and kitten-soft. His other hand wore a glove—one with tiny sharp spikes that he ran over her increasingly sensitive skin.

  When the fluffy fur and the sharp spikes moved across her still burning, spanked ass, she felt as if her bench was rocking. As if her thoughts were drifting up and out of reach.

  Her nipples pulsed with a low ache, her skin glowed with heat—and her center was a volcano filling with fiery need.

  Ah, just look at her. The nymph’s face was flushed, her lips parted, and she was giving soft little moans. Fuck, she was lovely.

  She’d completely forgotten she was in a public place.

  Well, this might remind her, at least for a moment or two. After pulling a condom over a slender anal plug, he lubed it and moved between her parted thighs. “You might not like this, Mallory, but let’s try it and talk about your feelings later.”

  A frown appeared between her brows as he stroked her clit gently, rousing her more. She was already soaking wet. He massaged her ass cheeks and parted them. Using the slick plug, he rimmed her anus.

  She gasped—and the ring of muscles clamped shut.

  Sawyer grinned. Simon was a prudent host—the anal toy was the smallest size. Not big enough for her to need stretching. So Sawyer simply, mercilessly, pushed the plug in.