Teach Me, Master (Neighbors, 3)

by Qwillia Rain

  Sweat stung her eyes. She’d tasted the salty beads dotting her face when she licked her lips. The muscles in her arms quivered and jumped with every stroke of his tongue over her clit. Triss let loose a sob of relief when the crinkle of cellophane mingled with her heavy breathing and the wet slurp of Vince’s mouth between her thighs.

  “Now?” she begged, arching up, her legs pressed wide by the breadth of his shoulders.

  Vince nodded. He wiped her juices from his face and smeared them over his cock before rolling the condom on. “Hard and fast, baby. But no coming until I give permission.”

  She’d try. Lord have mercy, she’d try, but something about him tampered with her control. When he remained still, poised over her, Triss realized he waited for a response. She gave a shaky nod. “I’ll try, Master.” Her fingers curled into her palms.

  He held her gaze. “You come before I tell you to and I’ll paddle your ass.”

  Like that was a threat? Triss trembled at the thought of him turning her over his knee and spanking her. Damn it, the idea only made her hotter. The moment the head of his cock breached her entrance, she knew she was in trouble. Coiled too tight, deep in her belly, her arousal sprang free the instant he pushed inside. Release coursed through her in rippling pulses radiating from her core outward.

  Despite the rush of the initial climax, as muscles knotted and throbbed, her nerve endings sent mixed messages to her brain. There was pleasure. The advance and retreat of his body within hers, the connection established by the rhythm of his taking. The way he immediately found her G-spot and rubbed against it going in and on the way out. All of it manifested into an overwhelming flood of sensation that sent her over the edge.

  Then there was the pain. The scrape of wet latex and thick cock along sore, raw tissues not fully recovered from the previous night’s exertions. It was the pain she focused on. She used it to regain control. Inch by inch she reined in the undulations of pleasure, tethering them close with each needle-sharp pinch deep within her.

  Not until Vince stilled, did she realize he’d discerned that the way her body reacted to his fucking wasn’t entirely based on the orgasms he set off and her attempts to harness them.

  “Damn it, Treats.” Vince pulled free and rolled off the bed. Ignoring her protests, he leaned forward and untied the stockings binding her, then eased her upright. He muttered something beneath his breath, but not loud enough for her to tell exactly what he was saying.

  “It’s okay. It doesn’t really hurt.” She tried to convince him while he rubbed the ache from her shoulders.

  His expression remote, he sat stiff on the edge of her bed, anger emanating from his body. “What did I tell you about using the safe words?”

  “But you weren’t doing anything I was afraid of.”

  “I hurt you. That wasn’t part of the deal,” he declared, his eyes darkening.

  His hair hung in tumbled waves around his face and over his shoulders, but Triss didn’t dare coax it into order with her fingers. Not with the way he glared down at her. His irritation and apparent self-disgust left her baffled. “I don’t understand. I thought pain was part of BDSM.”

  “Not this kind,” he snapped. He seemed unconcerned with his nudity or the fact that his cock remained at half-mast still covered by the condom.

  A squeak slipped from her lips when he lifted her from the bed and carried her into the bathroom. He set her on the closed toilet before moving to the tub and twisting the taps. Water rushed from the faucet, steam rose in a soft mist as he adjusted the temperature, and then stepped back to her side.

  Again he lifted her without warning, this time settling her into the steamy water, before he took a seat on the edge of the bath. “Let me enlighten you a bit, pet. Depending upon the person and the situation or purpose, pain can be part of the relationship between a Master and sub.”

  “But you just said --”

  He pressed his finger over her lips. “For some, the infliction of pain is primarily used as a deterrent for negative behaviors. Punishment for breaking rules. For others, pain is a necessary component for either the Master or sub, or both in some cases, to achieve arousal.”

  “So pain isn’t always used?” Triss winced at the regretful tone in her voice. Why would she be disappointed at the thought of not having pain as part of the scene play with Vince? It seemed insane, but that disappointment lingered. No matter how she tried to tamp it down mentally.

  “No. For some Masters and subs, just the position of authority, the role of ruler or controller is enough to satisfy them. There are others who don’t engage in sexual intercourse as part of their play. Everything that transpires between them is based on emotional needs, not physical ones.” After turning off the taps, Vince pulled a washcloth from the towel rack and dipped it into the water.

  “That’s not what we have,” Triss blurted.

  He bathed the sweat from her face and neck. “No, there was never any chance our relationship would be platonic. As for pain. There are those who like pain as foreplay. A spanking. The application of a flogger, nipple clamps, even hair pulling, and piercing of the skin with needles or pins, can stimulate desire.”

  “Do -- do you like that? The pain, I mean.” Triss leaned her head back as he stroked the cloth over her throat and across her shoulders.

  He lifted her left arm, caressing her skin with the wet rag, before lowering it back down and picking up her right arm to do the same glide over her skin. “Depends on the partner and how far she’s willing to go.”

  She forced down the excitement that tried to build even as she relaxed deeper into the water, enjoying his touch. “Willing to do what?”

  Vince stared down at her for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. “Are you asking what I’d like to do with you, Treats?”

  She didn’t trust her voice. The look in his eyes became chilly. The blue gleamed with a hint of menace she’d never detected before, but her body responded to it. The heat swirling deep inside curious what he might do if she probed too deeply. Or requested something she’d only dared to write down, but doubted she’d ever speak aloud.

  “What is your darkest fantasy, pet?”

  A flash of memory froze Triss. Her heart pumped harder in her chest. Could she tell him? Would she have the temerity to act it out? Would he think her perverse? Disgusting? Didn’t the very fact that she imagined such subjugating scenarios identify a weakness within her?

  He seemed to understand her hesitation and offered an opportunity for them to meet on common ground. Rising, he discarded the condom then stepped into the tub. He knelt in front of her and rested her legs over his. “There are things I like, Treats. Things that I’ve tried with others. But lately, I’ve discovered newer … interests. Wicked ideas. Dangerous, sinister intents that would make a little girl tremble in her bed at night. Things I’ve imagined only doing with you.”

  He braced his hands on the wall above her shoulders and leaned close, his gaze on hers, his mouth hovering above her lips. His hair tickled her cheeks, her brow, her shoulders. The scent of musk, and sweat, and a hint of cloves teased her nostrils with each inch that he moved closer.

  “Wha -- what kinds of things?” Triss squirmed beneath him. The rub of his cock against her belly moved in concert with the gentle lapping of the water around her breasts and thighs. His skin felt hotter than banked coals beneath her. The pictures building in her mind spun in multiple directions. The myriad paths limitless in their potential. The sensual threat implicit in his words, his voice, his look, only made the temptation to give in harder to fight.

  His breath feathered past her ear. “Dark things only very naughty pets deserve.” He brought his head back until his gaze caught and held hers. “Or very good girls can be rewarded with.”

  “Li -- like what?” Oh God, can he read my thoughts? Are they so clearly written on my face? She could practically see it there in his face, deep within his blue eyes, the dark edge, dangerous. And oh so tempting. He could make her enjoy the se
nse of powerlessness. The feeling of being nothing but a toy, an object for him to play with at his leisure.

  One side of his mouth lifted in a wicked grin. “No won’t stop me, pet. Neither will your tears, nor pleading. And don’t think of running, because the second I catch you, I’ll fuck you, no matter where we are, or who’s watching.”

  A chill sent goose bumps erupting over her body. Her breasts ached, the nipples growing hard at the thought of him doing just that. Making her -- forcing her to accept his control. Her gaze dropped from his, terrified he’d see the excitement his words created within her; confused she didn’t find the thought of playing out such a scene demeaning and offensive. She shouldn’t want it. But she did. And only with Vince.

  One hand moved from the wall to her face. Gentle fingertips lifted her chin, bringing her attention back to his eyes. The intensity in his expression eased. “We have to work up to that scene, Treats. I’m not sure you’re ready for it yet. When the time is right. When I think you’re ready, we’ll negotiate.”

  Her imagination, already on overtime working up scenarios, returned to him when his voice grew stern.

  “What I can tell you, is that I fantasized about fucking you all night long. Hard, soft, fast, or slow. Didn’t matter how I did it. I wanted to see if last night was a one off. If the number of times you came was a fluke. If it was, I intended to work you until you begged, and then make sure you came so many times, walking wouldn’t be an option tomorrow morning.”

  Triss’s cheeks felt like they were on fire. She had started the day wobbly-kneed, so he’d taken care of that part quite well the previous night. The warmth of his body drew her. She lifted her hands from the water and rested them on his waist, soaked up the warmth of his body as she caressed the skin of his hips, then traced the dark trail of hair below his navel.

  “But fucking you when you’re still raw, still sore, does not appeal to me.” His tone went cold. Icy even. He gripped her chin between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand and lifted her gaze back to his. “Don’t ever keep something like that from me, Triss. What we’re developing here is mutual trust. I have to be able to trust you. Trust that what you tell me is the absolute truth.”

  “Okay.”

  “I mean it. If something doesn’t feel right or you want a minute to regroup or stop it.”

  “I say ‘red’, I remember.”

  “And if you need me to slow down or to talk things over?” He leaned back and gathered the washcloth from where it had drifted in the water.

  “I say ‘yellow’.” The slow stroke of her hands along his hips and sides matched the caress of the cloth as he resumed bathing her body. “I promise. If I don’t feel right about anything you do to me, I’ll use our safe words.”

  “Not ‘to’ you, pet. With you. What I do with you. The purpose of all this is for you to discover what arouses you most. What turns you on.”

  “What about you? This is supposed to be mutual. How do you meet your desires?” She shifted her hands lower, moving closer to the base of his erection.

  “They’ll be met when I watch your nice round ass get rosy as I paddle it later.” His hands moved to her breasts. “There are ways, Treats. Like the way a pair of strawberry red nipples look all swollen and ready when pinched by clamps. The snug grip of your ass around me as you orgasm.”

  He pushed the rag into her hand and smiled. “I’m truly going to enjoy your wet pink lips wrapped around my cock, pet, so wipe the taste of the rubber off and show me how well you can suck and swallow.”

  Chapter Ten

  Triss stared up at the darkened ceiling. The weight of Vince’s arm across her waist comforting, her body achy but replete. Heat filled her cheeks when the memories of the events earlier tripped through her mind. It grew worse when she drifted into the fantasy that had been slowly developing since Vince had described what he imagined doing with her.

  “Tell me.”

  The brush of his lips against her throat sent tingles through her body, the whisper of his words at her ear startled her.

  “What?”

  Vince tugged her close, spooning her against his body. The rising length of his erection nestled between the sore cheeks of her bottom. The hand at her waist moved upward to caress her breast, stroking her nipple into a taut peak. “Something has been bothering you all night. Talk to me.”

  “I used to love roller coasters and haunted houses.”

  She could hear the smile in his voice. “The scarier the better?”

  Triss nodded. She settled her hand over his, mapping the sprinkle of dark hairs on the backs of his fingers while he fondled her breast. “Yeah. I loved the adrenalin, the rush of fear.”

  Maybe that explained why she was so drawn to Vince. She sensed in him the same element of danger associated with those thrill rides from her childhood.

  His hips rocked against her bottom, rubbing his hard cock against the pucker of her anus. “Made you feel alive.”

  Triss’ breath stuttered from her lungs. That particular hole still burned from the plug he’d used earlier. It took a moment to still the excitement within her before she relaxed and rested her head against his shoulder. “Yes.”

  “You don’t like roller coasters or haunted houses anymore?”

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, “They’re okay, but they don’t scare me anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “My daddy.” She waited for him to ask why or suggest her father had been abusive, turning her enjoyment of fear against her. He stayed silent, his hands soothing rather than arousing with each pass along her skin.

  After long, quiet minutes, she explained. “Daddy always took me to the haunted houses and roller coasters. If his buddy, Jason, was in town, he’d go with us. Daddy knew why I loved taking the rides. Understood the rush, the excitement, how alive it felt whipping around hundreds of feet in the air, riding a narrow rail, before plunging back down to earth. He loved the scary haunted houses. Not the gory ones with all the fake blood and mutilated bodies. No, he liked the passageways that shifted, the hands that would reach out for you, the rattling chains. Everything that had your mind playing tricks on you and distrusting what your eyes told you.”

  His chuckle vibrated against her back. “Sounds like you two had fun. What about your mama?”

  Triss smiled and laughed. “Mama didn’t like things like that. Neither did any of my brothers. Bart and Raymond would make it through, but they’d be jabbering fools by the time we got out of the houses or off the rides. I was the only one who would ask to go again. Until I was ten.”

  His fingers stilled, sensing the emotional shift within her. “What happened?”

  “There was a blow-out at the rig my daddy was working on. Jason was killed and daddy ended up in the hospital for a month.”

  “And he quit taking you on roller coasters?”

  Triss shook her head. “Oh no, Daddy still loved the roller coasters and the haunted houses.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  Easing away from his hold, Triss rolled over to face him. “Not after I overheard Mama yelling at Daddy. He hadn’t been out of the hospital two weeks when he took us to the big roller coaster park outside Houston. He and I went on every ride and Mama waited for us, getting madder and madder.”

  He cupped his hand along her cheek, his voice quiet, reassuring. “She wasn’t angry at you.”

  “No. But in the hotel, when they thought we were all asleep in our rooms, I heard Mama light into Daddy. What she said, I don’t recall, but what I do remember is how wrong it was to enjoy being afraid. How the act of chasing fear, of feeling that rush could hurt those closest to you. Until that night, I didn’t really know how close I’d come to losing my father. But it seemed disrespectful of me to love doing things that made my mama scared.”

  “So you stopped? Quit doing things that scared you?”

  “Yes. I was her only daughter. I was the only one who understood just how scared she got every time Daddy
left for the rigs. Until the day he retired, she never let anyone see how afraid she was, but I knew it.” The sigh she let slip was heavy and heartfelt. “By the time I was a grown up, it didn’t seem to matter anymore.”

  “There’s all kinds of fear, hon.”

  Triss rolled onto her back. “I know. I’m just not inclined to step out on the ledge as quickly as I was when I was a little girl.”

  Vince propped himself up on his elbow, his head cupped in his hand. “Is that what this interest in being dominated is? An attempt to step back out on the ledge?”

  That was the million dollar question. The gorilla in the room, and all the other clichés that came to Triss’s mind as she stared at the ceiling before turning her head to meet his gaze in the dimly lit room. “I think so.”

  He didn’t try to close the distance between their bodies. “Am I just convenient for your purposes, Treats?”

  “Truth or Dare time?”

  “No. Truth. Always the truth between us, Triss. Otherwise there’s nothing. We’ve already discussed this.”

  She might as well be honest, with herself especially. “No, you aren’t convenient. You are way, way too inconvenient for my purposes.”

  “Inconvenient?”

  Triss groaned and covered her face with her hands. “Yes. Inconvenient, but you’re also the only one I’d ever trust not to hurt me.” She pulled her hands from her face and slapped them against the bed. “I mean, hell, I barely know you, but everything in me tells me you’d cut your own hand off before you ever hit me in anger. The fact that you pulled out and left me hanging because I was a little sore --”

  “A lot sore,” he corrected.

  “Whatever. You pulled out. You didn’t finish what you started because you didn’t want to hurt me. That tells me I can trust you.”

  “You can.”

  She stared at him, for the first time clearly understanding just what she was interested in. Of the boundary she was about to cross and, perhaps, never return to. “I’m tired of playing it safe, Vince. I want to feel the rush again. I want to embrace the fear without worrying that I’ll hurt someone’s feelings or scare them.”