by Jasmine Hill
“I can and I will,” he snarled. “But then again…” He looked thoughtful. “I do like that men can look at you with longing but they can’t touch—they can never touch. There’s a certain…selfish enjoyment in knowing that other men want what’s mine.”
Makayla looked at him askance. “You really are kinky, you know that?”
He chuckled. “I’ve never denied it, baby.”
He’d decided that he would to take Makayla to one of the private rooms. They had two-way glass mirrors, so the inhabitants could see out, but no one could see in. There were also rooms that worked in the reverse. However, he wasn’t about to let anyone see Makayla as she climaxed—that privilege was for him alone.
“I have to go and organize something. I’ll be right back.” He dropped a kiss to her head then walked toward the club manager to organize a room for them.
He returned as quickly as possible, unwilling to leave Makayla alone for too long in such an environment. Even though she was clearly collared, it wouldn’t stop some men from trying something. As he reached the doorway to the bar, he realized he was right to be concerned when he caught sight of a large, burly man sitting next to Makayla. Donovan stared for a minute, trying to work out if he knew the interloper, but he didn’t think he’d seen him before. He wore a black leather vest, an emblem on the back clearly indicating that he belonged to an American motorcycle club and black leathers covered his thick legs. Each of his arms sported tattoo sleeves, the designs snaking around his biceps and forearms like evil serpents. Donovan assessed him. The man was big, but Donovan guessed he’d be slow. He hoped he didn’t have to test his theory. As he watched, the man moved closer to Makayla, and when he reached a hand out to caress her chest, Donovan saw red. His vision hazed over and he started shaking. How dare the fucker touch her and touch her here! Makayla had leaned away from him, but the bastard had just sidled closer, absolutely ignoring her bid to keep her personal space.
He stalked toward them, blood pumping furiously through his veins. He overheard the bartender warning the fucker to keep his distance, but the bastard just laughed and disregarded him. Taking it as a personal challenge, the guy positioned himself directly in front of Makayla. Donovan saw his beady eyes haze with lust as his gaze traveled her body.
He growled low in his throat, the sound so like a wild animal’s that both Makayla and the biker glanced in his direction. He was on them in a second. He grasped Makayla around the waist and hauled her off her stool, pulling her tightly to his side.
“What do you think you’re doing, motherfucker?” he snarled. “You just touched something that’s not yours to touch!”
The other man chuckled. “Who she belong to, you?”
Donovan slipped a finger under Makayla’s collar. “You’re obviously not from here or you’d know that this means that she belongs to me. Now fuck off before I rearrange your ugly face.”
The biker laughed, a full belly sound, and threw his head back. “I think I want to keep her for me,” he said. “I like her. She’s the best piece of ass that I’ve seen since I’ve been in this city.”
He reached a hand toward Makayla and that was it. Donovan lost the remnants of his control. He pulled his fist back and sent it rocketing forward, connecting with the man hard in the face and sending him staggering backward. He rocked on his feet for a second, blood pouring from his nose, then rage suffused his features and he sent his own fist swinging, but Donovan was ready and ducked, the biker ending up flailing at thin air.
Donovan lifted his fists, ready to defend himself, and threw a second punch. Carlos and one of the dungeon monitors burst onto the scene. They manhandled the burly biker, twisting his arms behind his back and shoving him toward the exit.
Donovan grasped Makayla to him and kissed the crown of her head. “Are you okay, baby?”
“I’m fine, Donovan.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt.
He pushed her away and held her at arm’s length, examining her. “He fucking touched you,” he seethed.
“I could have handled things by myself,” she responded petulantly.
“Makayla, he was three times your size. And you shouldn’t have to handle anything, especially not here. It’s my job to look after you, particularly in an environment like this.”
Donovan shook his fist and flexed his fingers. That guy had a fucking hard head.
Makayla took his hand and checked his knuckles. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“No, I’m fine,” he said irritably. “I don’t even know how that biker found himself here. I guess he’s in Madrid for the bike exhibition and I’m assuming he had a personal invite from one of the Infierno members. Forget about it.” He hooked his finger through the loop on her collar and pulled her to him. “Come, I have a surprise for you.”
Makayla followed dutifully as Donovan tugged her along behind him. He opened a door, ushered her inside and unhooked his finger from her collar. Makayla looked through the large window taking up one wall of the room. Through it, the main area was clearly visible, where different scenes were being played out. Groups of people milled about observing, or were involved in their own separate play.
“Come here,” Donovan murmured. He stood next to a strange-looking bench with chains and cuffs attached.
Makayla walked over hesitantly. What did he have planned?
“Remove your skirt, shoes and stockings,” he ordered.
She gulped and looked back at the mirror.
“They can’t see in,” he assured her. “Only we can see out, which adds a certain erotic element to things.”
She did as he asked and felt strangely more exposed than if she’d been completely naked. Something about having her bottom half bare while her top half was still clothed somehow seemed more indecent. He gave her a knowing smirk, which made her think that he knew exactly what she was feeling.
“Bend over the bench and put your knees on the knee pads. Grasp those handles.”
Makayla positioned herself on the bench with her ass high in the air and gripped the handles at the bottom.
“That’s perfect, my angel. I’m going to spank you now, but this is for your pleasure and mine. Do you understand?”
Desire flooded her veins and she shivered in anticipation. “Yes, Sir.”
“Place your face to the side, so you can watch what’s going on outside.”
She turned her head so her cheek was flush against the cool leather of the bench. She heard Donovan moving around behind her, smelled his cologne and his unique male scent.
She heard something whip through the air, then his hand landed on her ass cheek with a loud clap. She jumped, startled, and gulped a breath as the sting radiated outward.
“Breathe deeply, baby. Absorb it,” Donovan instructed.
He rained slaps down on her backside, alternating the smacks between her left and right ass cheeks with smacks between her thighs. The pain of Donovan’s slaps mingled with her pleasure, leaving her raw and sensitive. The stirrings of her desire reignited and took hold deep in her core.
He landed another strike on her ass cheek, the slap sounding loud and sharp in the enclosed space.
Donovan groaned. “Your ass is such a fabulous shade of pink, baby.”
His breathing came in short, sharp bursts. He swept his fingers through her folds and grunted in satisfaction. “You’re so fucking wet. You love me spanking you, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” she gasped, lightheaded with desire. She didn’t think she could handle it if he denied her again. He plunged his fingers in and out of her channel, sweeping them around in large circles. She moaned and writhed and took deep breaths. The pinch of pain mixed with pleasure sent her so close to the edge that she shuddered, her limbs trembling as she strived to stop from climaxing. Donovan hadn’t said that she could, and his denial of earlier made it so much more difficult to retain control.
He slapped her four more times. She groaned, her ass cheeks hot and raw to the touch, moisture dripping down her t
highs. Something cool and wet touched her skin. Donovan lathered her backside with cream, sweeping his large palms across her ass cheeks and massaging the ointment into her flesh. Then he picked her up. She fell against him, limp and exhausted.
“I’m not finished with you yet, baby,” he murmured in her ear, walking over to another contraption.
God, there was more? She wasn’t sure how much more she could take, but seeing as she had yet to climax, she was willing to stick it out. She desperately needed the release. Her insides throbbed so badly that she was concerned she’d never feel normal again.
Donovan placed her gently on her feet and fiddled with the straps on another bench, this one looking alarmingly like a medical device.
“Get on the bench and position your legs in the stirrups.”
She climbed shakily onto the bench, the leather cool under her flushed skin, and placed her legs in the leg supports either side.
Donovan strapped her wrists into cuffs above her head and her feet into the stirrups so she was positioned in a bizarre replica of a gynecological exam. Infierno’s club inhabitants performing their kinky scenes were exhibited before her, visible through the window like an erotic drama performed for her pleasure alone.
Donovan stepped into her line of vision and stared at the juncture of her thighs. “I love that I can see all of your pussy. So beautiful, so wet and swollen with arousal.” He groaned. “Fuck, it’s the epitome of a Dom’s wet dream. You strapped in with your legs spread wide, exposed to me fully.”
Makayla focused her attention on the bulge at his crotch. Wanting his cock inside her mouth, inside her pussy—needing it.
Donovan stepped forward and forced her corset down so her breasts were pushed up and above the rigid boning. He bent his head and sucked one turgid nipple into his mouth, drawing on it in long, slow pulls that she felt deep in her core. He sucked a moment longer then nipped the tip, making her groan.
He straightened and stepped between her spread legs. “Look at me,” he demanded.
Makayla snapped her eyes open and met his, heavy-lidded and hungry with lust. He swept his fingers along her wet folds, gently at first, then he applied more pressure, massaging her pussy lips with an almost painful rub. She was so sensitive, so taut with unrelieved tension, that the slightest touch seemed amplified tenfold.
She moaned, but kept her eyes open and on Donovan, determined to do what he wanted, desperate for the release that had been out of her grasp all day.
He thrust one finger then two inside her, pumping them slowly and methodically through her swollen pussy lips. He added a third finger and pushed high and deep.
“Just here,” he murmured, rubbing the front of her channel wall and staring at her intensely.
“Oh God,” she cried out, and grasped the cuffs in her fists. Her body trembled, her bindings only allowing for minimal movement, ripples of pleasure radiating from her core. He thumbed her clit, pressing on the little bundle of nerves as he massaged her G-spot. Her limbs shook and she gulped in deep breaths, trying to impede the climax that was threatening. Fuck, when is he going to allow me to come?
“I know you’re close. You can come,” he rasped, thrusting his fingers higher and deeper.
She let go and cried out a garbled version of his name as the waves of pleasure pulsed through her. Bright spots of light blinded her and her whole body quivered with the force of her orgasm, the spread of her legs seeming to prolong the pleasure.
She slumped back against the bench in exhaustion, her limbs feeling boneless and jelly-like. The throbbing ache in her core had dissipated, leaving a pleasant warmth in its place.
Suddenly there was a whirring, mechanical sound and the bench started to move upward, making her gasp in surprise.
“I can position it where I want it,” Donovan explained. “And I want you level with my cock.”
The bench shuddered to a stop, her spread legs now lined up with his crotch.
“That’s perfect,” he murmured, unzipping his pants and shoving them and his boxer briefs down to rest under his ball sac, liberating his erect cock to rest heavily against his tight abs.
It was a sensual sight, so erotic and sexual that the muscles in her sex clenched in anticipation.
“I’m going to take you now. I can’t wait a moment longer to be inside you. You can come at will.”
He shuffled closer, scooped his palms under her ass and thrust into her.
They groaned in unison. He pulled back and lunged forward, jamming his cock so deeply into her that she saw stars and felt him bump against her cervix.
“Fuck,” she yelped in pleasure-pain.
He grunted and slapped her thigh, withdrawing for a third powerful thrust. The rigidity of the bench allowed no give, so Donovan could drive into her forcefully and relentlessly.
She sobbed and gripped the chains that bound her wrists as Donovan powered his cock into her. The feeling was unbelievable. She was stuffed full of him, totally impaled and at his mercy.
He grasped her ass with one hand and used his other to massage her clit, spreading her moisture around the nub of nerves and pressing hard.
She cried out and jerked in her fastenings, blinding pleasure streaking her vision white and scorching through her insides. Her internal muscles pulsed and quaked, milking Donovan’s cock forcefully as her swollen tissues gripped him like a fist.
“Fuck, baby!” he shouted and thrust twice more, burying himself deeply and filling her with his hot cum.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Makayla lay limply on the bench, Donovan collapsed on top of her but using the armrests to support the bulk of his body. Donovan’s head rested next to hers, his warm breath puffing over her face.
There was a sharp rap on the door then it opened.
Makayla jumped in surprise. Donovan raised his head and growled low in his throat, the terrifying sound startling Makayla more than the surprise entry. He adjusted his body over hers, concealing her from whoever had just entered the room unannounced.
“There had better be a very good fucking reason for interrupting my scene and bursting in on my girl while she’s naked!”
Donovan stiffened in anger. She wanted to put a reassuring hand on his arm, but she was still immobilized. At any rate, her back was to the door so anyone entering would see very little of her. With a start, she realized that Donovan had referred to her as ‘his girl’ and not his sub, which she would have expected. Perhaps Donovan thought of her as something more, and the idea sent a warm feeling flooding through her. She loved being Donovan’s sub, but she would also love being his something more.
“Lo siento, Rey.”
Makayla recognized the apology and Donovan’s last name, but then the man continued in rapid Spanish, losing her entirely.
Donovan snapped a brief reply. When the man was gone, Donovan peeled his body away from hers then quickly he set about releasing her bindings. He picked her up and carried her over to a lounge that she hadn’t noticed sitting in the corner of the room, depositing her onto the cushions and arranging a blanket over her.
“Didn’t you lock the door?” she now thought to ask.
“There are no locks on the doors in here. The dungeon monitors have to have access to the rooms in case of trouble.” He pointed to a number of panic buttons located around the room. “Those are also for security.”
Of course, she’d never thought of that.
“I’m needed for a moment in one of the other areas.” He dropped a brief kiss to the top of her head. “Are you okay here for a minute while I see to the issue?”
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him.
He knelt in front of her, looking troubled. “I really shouldn’t leave you alone. It’s imperative that I, as your Dom, provide aftercare, ensuring that you feel comfortable and safe.”
She smiled. “You’re not going away forever, are you?”
He returned her smile. “No, I should only be a few minutes.” He straightened and left quickly, c
losing the door securely behind him.
Makayla stretched. The cream Donovan had used on her backside was very effective. She wasn’t tender at all, but then, he’d only spanked her with his hand, and while it had stung, it hadn’t been at all hard to bear. She stood and collected her clothes, which were strewn across the floor, and dressed quickly, not wanting to be caught half naked a second time. She’d just buckled the strap on her shoe and readjusted her corset when the door flew open. She looked up, expecting to see Donovan, but instead was greeted by a man that she recognized to be one of the bartenders.
“Please, señorita.” He spoke in hesitant English. “El Rey would like to meet you at the front of the club. He has a car waiting.”
Makayla hesitated. Why would Donovan not tell her himself? She gazed at the bartender, who shuffled from foot to foot. He looked nervous. Perhaps there had been another altercation with that biker guy from earlier and Donovan couldn’t come for her personally. She wasn’t concerned for her own safety. She was just worried about disobeying him, and didn’t relish undergoing orgasm deprivation again any time soon.
She collected her handbag and followed the bartender. They walked briskly through the main area then the bar to the outside of the club. She thought it strange that Carlos wasn’t manning his usual position at the door, but didn’t dwell on it, as she was anxious to discover what had happened to make Donovan decide to leave Infierno in such a hurry.
A silver Mercedes limousine sat idling at the curb, the back door open. Makayla said a hasty goodbye to her escort then ducked into the car, the dim interior rendering it difficult for her to make anything out, and the streetlights casting barely any light inside. The driver revved the engine and took off into the Madrid traffic. Makayla squinted, trying to recognize Donovan in the dimness, but her companion didn’t have the powerful physique of Donovan, nor his masculine scent. The immediate certainty that it wasn’t Donovan in the car with her sent her blood cold.
“Who are you?” she asked into the dim interior, dismayed that she couldn’t keep the quaver from her voice. She heard the flick of a Zippo lighter then the flame flared to life, illuminating the unmistakable features of Dolores.
