by Arianna Hart
With her heart beating a rapid tattoo, Reannah swirled her fingers over her clit faster and faster. Pressure built inside her and threatened to explode but she held it off. She didn’t want to take her eyes of the scene in front of her for even the few seconds it would take for her to come.
And what happened next made the wait so worthwhile.
The blond released the darker man’s cock with a final lick and reached for something on the floor. The black man lazily rolled to his side, his cock still impressively large even when it was no longer fully erect. As Reannah watched in anticipation, the ebony man crawled to his knees and presented his seriously muscled ass to his partner. The blond coated his penis and his lover’s anus with some sort of lubricant that he retrieved from the floor.
She couldn’t hold off the onslaught of pleasure a second longer when the blond pushed inside his lover. From her vantage point she could see two sets of rock-hard thighs thrust in a rapid pace as they each strained to achieve their pleasure. Reannah’s hips bucked her pussy against her fingers as her release tore through the thin control she’d used to hold it back.
Her eyes closed against her will, but branded on her eyelids was the image of two brawny chests pumping in rhythm as massive shoulders bulged with the force of their desire.
When she opened her eyes the blinds had closed over the window and she could see no more. Her thighs were sticky with her juices and her body felt boneless. Suddenly, she realized what the basin of water and washcloths were for and was grateful for them.
Her hands shook as she moistened the thick terrycloth square and washed away the evidence of her orgasm.
Cripes, I’ve come twice and I haven’t even taken off my clothes. That’s better than my last three boyfriends combined.
One thing was for certain, her feet no longer hurt. In fact, she wasn’t quite sure she could even feel her toes. And she was definitely no longer nervous.
It was time for her to stop watching and start experiencing everything Cupid had to offer. As soon as she remembered how to walk.
Chapter Three
Where was she?
Kiefer kept getting distracted in his search for Reannah as he spied luscious breasts and creamy thighs everywhere he turned. If this was what people were doing in public, he could only imagine what they were doing in the private rooms upstairs.
And he had a damn good imagination.
He thought he’d spied Reannah lurking in a corner watching the impromptu ménage earlier but by the time he made it across the room she’d disappeared. Damn it, he didn’t rush around like a lunatic just to watch her go off with some other guy. Or girl for that matter.
Although, he wouldn’t mind seeing that, come to think of it.
He was on his second circuit of the room and third beer when he spied her coming out of one of the viewing rooms. Blessedly alone, thank God. Her face was flushed and her chest heaved practically out of her shirt but she was alone.
Not for long.
He’d known it was Reannah the second she’d stepped into the living room. Even masked and with her beautiful hair disguised his body had reacted to her presence immediately.
As he drew closer to her, his cock practically burst through the leather pants he wore. Her shirt didn’t so much cover her cleavage as display it. Her rosy breasts lay over the lacy shirt like a delicious buffet just waiting for him to dig in and enjoy.
And enjoy it he would, as soon as possible. But he had to be smart about it. If she suspected his identity she might turn tail and run. Or worse, refuse him. He’d gone to great lengths to darken his hair and figured he’d use a fake accent to disguise his voice.
He wasn’t going to hide forever, just until she was so overcome with lust for him she wouldn’t turn him down yet again. It might backfire on him but it was a risk he was willing to take to get a chance to be with her after all these months.
“A lovely lady like yourself shouldn’t be alone,” he whispered in her ear with his best Irish accent. “Can I offer my services as an escort?”
Her eyes widened under her mask as she looked him over from the tip of his wide-brimmed hat to the points of his heeled boots. He held his breath in anticipation. This was the moment of truth, would she see through his disguise and send him away or not?
“You look more like a highwayman than an escort.” She smiled coyly at him and didn’t move away.
Kiefer released his pent-up breath as quietly as possible.
Step one, done.
“I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be a highwayman or a rock star. Do highway men wear leather pants?”
“Maybe. I’ve never met one before, although I’ve had some definite fantasies about them…”
His cock tightened and his body tensed as she trailed off. “Then I’m most definitely a highwayman. A masked avenger in the night. I steal from the rich and give to the poor and make free with the ladies.”
“Isn’t that Robin Hood?”
“Who cares? As long as I get the ladies, or lady, I’m not particular about the details.”
“And who says you’re going to get the lady? I don’t recall you asking?”
“I’m a rogue scoundrel, I don’t ask.” And with that he scooped her up in his arms and threw her over his shoulder.
Cheers rang as he carried her up the curving staircase to the private rooms above. Her hips were over his shoulder and he could smell her feminine arousal. The musky scent shot through him with all the effect of a bullet, destroying his composure and shredding his control.
He’d wanted her for so long and now he had his chance.
Please, Cupid, don’t let me screw this up.
It took him three tries before he found an unlocked door and an unoccupied room but when he kicked open the door he knew he’d found the jackpot. Leather cuffs dangled from the headboard of the brass bed and various implements of delight littered the floor.
When he spied the whipping post in the corner near the balcony his brain almost caught fire. The image of Reannah’s rounded ass sticking up while she knelt with her hands tied to the post danced through his head, tempting him mercilessly.
A little snicker sounded over his shoulder and brought him out of his lustful dreams.
“Do you think this is funny, wench? You won’t be laughing when I have my way with you.”
“Oh no, don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything you say.” The effect of her plea was ruined by the laughter in her voice.
“You’re damn right you will.” He dropped her on the gold lamé bedspread and gasped as her breasts almost bounced out of her shirt.
“What do you want me to do Mr. Highwayman?”
“Take off your cape and let me look at you.”
She climbed off the bed and waited until he lay back on the pillows. Once he was settled she unfastened the ties at her throat and let the heavy material fall to the floor.
Without the shielding of the wrap he got the full impact of her outfit and was dumbstruck. The blouse left her shoulders bare and the corset cinched her waist impossibly tight. She looked demure yet tempting as sin. His mouth watered at the thought of what she hid under the long skirt.
Time to find out. “Your skirt offends me, take it off.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I’ll tear it off you, wench.”
She shivered and he was afraid he’d gone too far, then he noticed her chest rising and falling with her heavy breathing. Her nostrils flared with desire and tiny drops of perspiration glittered above her mask.
Reannah Mason, technical writer was a closet sub. Who’d have thought it?
Lust, hot and furious tore through him at the thought of dominating this woman he’d wanted for so long.
“Don’t make me ask you again, slave.”
“Y-yes master.”
Her voice was thick with desire and her hands shook as she unbuttoned the skirt slowly, starting from the bottom.
Kiefer didn’t live the BDSM lifestyle, but he wouldn’t mind
playing the game with a willing partner. And by the rosy glow suffusing Reannah’s skin, she was more than willing.
It took every ounce of strength he had to keep his hands by his sides as she revealed first the thigh-high boots and then the leather thong hiding her pussy from his greedy gaze. For a moment all he could do was stare at the picture she made, standing in the dim light with her silken skin and black leather.
With his mind turned to pudding it was hard to think about what to do next. He wanted to throw her on the bed and lick every inch of her succulent body but didn’t want to rush her.
His muscles clenched as he forced himself to keep his distance from her. Before he could decide what to have her remove next, the thong or the corset, the doorknob turned and started to open.
Shit! He’d forgotten to lock the door!
Kiefer pounced off the bed and slammed the door closed before the person on the other side could get a good look at his Reannah. After he made sure it was locked he turned to find she had slipped into the shadows. Apparently she didn’t want any company yet either.
“Come here, slave.”
She stalked forward, her creamy thighs gleaming above the black boots. “Yes, master.”
“Hold onto the whipping post and don’t let go until I tell you.”
Her breathing hitched as she did as he directed. Heat came off her in waves, stoking the fire raging inside him to a fevered pitch. The scent of her perfume merged with the musky fragrance of her desire and drifted through his nostrils. He breathed deeply, wanting to inhale her very essence.
“Close your eyes,” he ordered, his voice husky.
To make sure she complied, he picked a silken scarf off a nearby chair and gently secured it over her eyes.
Now he could feast on her beauty without fear of her discovering his identity.
And Lord was he hungry.
The lack of sight immediately heightened all her other senses. Reannah couldn’t believe how turned on she was. The highwayman reminded her so much of Kiefer, except his hair didn’t have Kiefer’s golden highlights and his voice wasn’t quite the same. But oh, his body. Not that she’d ever seen Kiefer in tight leather pants, but if she had, she was sure he’d look the same as the man standing behind her now.
Could that be why she was so willing to let go of her inhibitions so quickly? Because he reminded her of someone she trusted?
No. It wasn’t because he reminded her of someone she trusted, it was because he reminded her of someone she wanted. She couldn’t have Kiefer, but for tonight she could pretend that this sexy stranger was the man of her dreams.
Dreams? Ha! More like deepest darkest fantasies.
How often had she thought of Kiefer controlling her with ecstasy? Hundreds of times.
But she had no idea how much better the reality could be.
“Not so feisty now, are you wench?” He slapped her bare bottom hard enough to leave a sting but not hard enough to hurt. Much.
“No, master.” She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing whenever she called him master. It was hokey, but very exciting too.
His warm breath brushed over her shoulder and made her nipples perk to attention. The corset restricted her air supply and she felt almost lightheaded. As his hands brushed lightly over her chest and slipped under the lace of her shirt she knew her dizziness had nothing to do with lack of oxygen and everything to do with the man touching her.
She waited breathlessly for him to make a move. Her knees quaked as she wondered what he’d do next. Would he tear off her clothes or undress her slowly? Would he fuck her from behind or maybe spank her again? She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but the initial slap had sent a bolt of heat straight to her pussy.
Her nipples tightened as he continued to fondle her breasts under the shirt. When he pinched one bud hard, she gasped at the sting but the pleasure that shot from the tender point afterward made the slight pain more than worthwhile.
“It’s too bad you can’t see yourself right now. Your nipples are as red as berries and your breasts look like the finest cream. I’ve never wanted dessert so much in my entire life.”
Reannah couldn’t answer, couldn’t form words in her lust fogged brain. His warm voice caressed every nerve ending even as his fingers plied her breasts. The most she could do was let out a whimper when his soft lips nipped along her bare throat. She could feel a faint hint of stubble along his jaw and the slight rasp teased her with thoughts of what that would feel like on her nipples.
Or between her legs.
She clamped her thighs together to stifle the ache blooming there. The feel of his fingers manipulating her nipples caused ripples through her entire body. Her pussy quivered with every tug and stroke and she swore she was about to come from his ministrations.
Christ, I’d like my clothes off for at least one orgasm tonight!
“Not yet, my sweet. I have a lot more planned for you tonight.”
Oh dear, had she said that out loud?
He stepped away from her, dropping his hands.
The air felt cool against her nearly naked ass without his body behind her. Reannah could hear him moving around but didn’t know what he was doing. It sounded like he was gathering things onto the nearby table so they’d be in easy reach but she couldn’t imagine what he was getting. The scarf covering her eyes frustrated her as much as it excited her.
Almost.
“Now, slave, you’ve been a very bad girl.”
The crack of a whip made her jump half a foot. He wouldn’t really use a whip on her, would he?
Of course he would. She didn’t know anything about this man, hell, she didn’t even know his name. Just because he resembled Kiefer didn’t mean he was Kiefer. For all she knew he could be a sadistic bastard who loved to hurt women.
Nerves doused the raging fire that he’d built earlier. But before she could step away, he laid a gentle hand along her cheek.
“This is just fun and games, if you get nervous, just say the word and I’ll stop. Okay, luv?”
“Y-yes.”
Her shoulders relaxed and tension slid from her body, until he cracked the whip again.
Now she felt a tension of a different sort. Right between her legs.
“How should I punish you, slave?”
Her highwayman ran the whip over her chest, teasing her nipples with the handle. It felt like soft leather and not in the least bit uncomfortable. The tail slipped over her shoulder and skimmed her back.
“I think you need to be properly prepared for your punishment.” Without another word he yanked her shirt down her arms, freeing her breasts from their silken confinement. “Ah yes, much better.”
He eased her arms out of the sleeves and placed them back on the post when he was satisfied. The cool air brushed her freed nipples and sent tingles rippling through her. The whip snaked down her chest and her highwayman pulled it tightly between her legs. Reannah’s breath caught as his fingers brushed her swollen pussy.
He slid the whip down her torso and over her clit, rubbing against the thong with enough pressure to tempt but not to push her over the edge.
“Bend over,” he growled in her ear.
She did as he said without the slightest hesitation. Her breasts swung freely in this position. The whip wrapped around one mound and pulled tightly, not enough to hurt but enough to force the blood to her nipple.
The constriction made her throb with need with every beat of her heart. His hand kneaded her bound breast, heightening the burning sensation in the tip. It felt swollen and needy for his touch.
Just when she thought she’d explode, she felt his head slip under her upraised arms and his hot mouth latch onto her nipple. Reannah’s knees buckled at the wet heat of his lips. Waves of hot lust radiated from that one small point throughout her entire body, obliterating any fears or concerns she might have once had.
His teeth grazed her skin lightly sending shivers down her spine. A whimper of protest slipped from her when he rem
oved his mouth but it quickly turned into a gasp of surprise. He’s eased a ring of some sort around her nipple and it amplified the pressure on her swollen tip.
The sensation increased dramatically when he released the binding of the whip from around her breast. All the blood that had built up under the tie rushed toward her be-ringed peak.
Reannah shook with desire as he repeated the process on the other breast. Sweat dripped off her face and her hands clenched the post like it was the safety bar on a roller coaster.
“What should I call you, besides master?” she asked weakly. She desperately needed an anchor to keep herself from flying apart.
He hesitated as he moved behind her and she wondered if she had blundered in asking him his name.
“Just call me Ian.”
“Yes, master.”
Ian. That meant his lilt was Irish. Was Kiefer Irish? She wasn’t sure…
Any other thoughts flew out of her mind as his hot tongue traced the line where her ass ended and her thighs began. Cream gushed from her pussy and she had a moment of embarrassment about her state.
“Um, delicious.” He lapped her juices with little flicks of his tongue along her thigh, inducing more fluid. “You’re so wet. Is that all for me, little slave?”
“Y-yes.”
“I can’t wait to sink my cock into all that creamy heat. But not yet.”
Damn it! She was ready to beg him to fuck her and he wanted to play? The rings on her nipples sent pulses of fire through her with every breath she took. The glide of the whip along her pussy tormented her with its light touch. And his mouth, God his mouth was an implement of torture if there ever was one.
“I think you’d better remove your thong before it gets lost in those pouting pussy lips.”
“Yes, master.” Thank you God!
Her fingers fumbled as she unclenched them from around the whipping post. It was hard to get the leather thong over the boots with her eyes closed. At one point she almost fell, but Ian was there to catch her against his rock-hard frame.
