Ivy spread a spicy red stain across her bottom lip and topped it with gloss. She stood, turned in her bright green bra and panties set, and let the man take in her toned body. That’s right, let him look.
Her assistant rushed to help her drape a sparkling see-through cape over the matching set.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, boy, I have a show to run. If you’d like to watch, Melanie will give you my box seat for the night, and we’ll discuss this matter after the show.”
“Ms. Suede, while I appreciate your invitation, I have a life of my own to consider, and I hardly doubt I’d be interested in anything your circus stunts would—”
“Young man, did you even bother to look at the flyers as you came in here?”
“Well, no.”
“You should have. I think you’ll enjoy yourself immensely. Now, be quiet and save me a seat. We’ll talk in between acts.”
Ivy snapped her fingers and Melanie grabbed the auditor’s hand. She tugged until he reluctantly followed her out of the tent.
Since she’d inherited the circus from her Aunt Marabell Mavis D. Suede, she’d learned a thing or two about men. They enjoyed tits and ass, didn’t like to earn the chance to screw, and never gave a girl like her more than a chance at their dicks. So, she’d become what everyone wanted and she’d done it well.
Ivy stepped into her emerald heels and smacked her lips. Showtime.
The box seats were lined with crushed red suede and Dirk Metcalf was instantly reminded of the beauty in green. She was at least ten years his senior, but that hadn’t stopped him from growing hard when she’d stood there in that satin ensemble. He’d thickened even more when the flimsy cape had been draped over her shoulders. And the fact that she thought herself in command of the situation was rather cute, but unnecessary. He wasn’t here for her show or for the good time the circus promised. He had a job to do, and he’d damn well get it done.
The center ring lit up with a blaze of lights. A woman with white-gold hair and legs that would stretch all the way around a large waist dropped down from the ceiling on a cable, her sparkling cape billowing behind her. An earpiece and short mic reached toward her cheek, catching the rapid breaths bubbling up from her exciting entrance.
“Welcome to you all. Thank you for entering the world of the dark and depraved. The damned and delighted. And…the innocent turned enchanted.” The applause at her words thundered around him. “Take your lover’s hand and place it with purpose. The next two hours will sweep you off your feet, and hopefully prepare you for a night of decadence.” She blew a kiss to the crowd and jumped down from her cable lift.
Ivy D. Suede was unlike any woman he’d ever met. She commanded the attention of every person in the room, twirling around the center ring and engaging her assistants when needed. She could have been in a three-piece suit or a nun’s habit and still held the enraptured attention of the crowd. He’d never seen anything like her, and he knew he’d never meet another who would surpass this moment.
The next three acts were impressive acrobats with barely there clothing. Dirk needed to get this show on the road and Ivy had yet to present herself to him. Without a doubt her absence was deliberate. She wasn’t going to make this easy. His instructions for the night had been clear and direct and didn’t include ogling the young beauties throwing themselves off tightropes. Yes, the jiggles were nice, but he’d rather have a woman who commanded attention without the use of mock lighting to make you think they were barely legal.
He circled back to Ivy’s tent and let himself inside. He had the feeling she’d want to change her outfit, and if his instincts were right, he’d catch her off guard and find out more about these lawyers she claimed to have. The light scent of her perfume still lingered around her dressing table, and he spent a few minutes rifling through the trinkets scattered across the top.
A roll of sweat slipped between his shoulder blades. Fucking ugly-ass coat. He nudged out of it and tossed it aside. He hated the damn thing, but his boss thought he shouldn’t go into the den of the madam looking good enough to eat. He hadn’t corrected her decidedly un-PC comment. He knew what he was attractive and that she was right. But he hadn’t been prepared for the indifference in the ringleader’s cold blue eyes.
“Well, I do declare. You’re smarter than I thought,” came a wry murmur from the entrance of the tent.
Dirk slid into her chair, righted himself and locked eyes with the beast of beauty in her stage mirror. “Uh. Sorry. I hoped to catch you in between changes.”
She swayed closer. “So, you wanted to catch me nude?” she murmured.
“Not what I meant to say…but if you’re offering…” He glared at her over the top of his glasses. The hint was completely at odds with the vibes he’d been trying to send, but he hoped it threw her off her game. She liked control, and usually he was okay letting a woman have it, but tonight’s encounter would be on his terms. He had a job to do.
“Really?” One finely arched brow rose. “So…take the sports coat off and the nerdy glasses, do you turn into my Super Nerd?”
“Something like that.”
She stalked closer. “What did you think of the show?”
“It’s classy but brassy. I’m not into the youngsters, but there were a few that showed real promise.”
Ivy threw back her head and laughed, and it was quite possibly the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. She had fine lines that laced her neck, but the skin promised to be soft and supple. His cock sprang up at her joy in his statement.
Sooner than he liked, she grew serious. Her hands caught the shoulder straps of her bra and pushed them down her arms. “Well, sorry to cut our conversation short—you really are very witty—but I have to finish this show.” The bright green cups slid from her breasts and allowed nature to take its course. She was a full C-cup and the mounds dropped nicely against her chest, rose tips pointing toward the sky. “Are you going to watch the whole show?”
“Are you going to let me?”
“Maybe.”
With a wink, she shimmied her panties down to her ankles and stepped out. “Take off the glasses.”
Dirk set them on the vanity with only a slight tremor to show her effect on him. “Now what?”
“You’re sitting on my stool.”
“Come move me.”
If there was one thing Ivy loved, it was a challenge. This suit was turning out to be more than she’d bargained for, and she knew a dupe when she saw it. If he thought to come in here and trip his way into a confession, then he’d better think again.
With more swagger than usual, she sauntered up to him and fisted a handful of his too-long hair. His brown eyes darkened, and a hiss of pain was released from his parted lips. He wrapped long fingers around one of her thighs and used his knee to spread her legs enough to move his palm up.
She wasn’t ready for two fingers to thrust between her drenched pussy, but she also wouldn’t stop him—yet. They were playing a dangerous game, each fighting to hold the top hat.
Her inner muscles sucked at him with greedy little wet noises, and he glanced down. “Has it been a while, Ms. Suede?”
She grinned. “No, she’s just a beast and looking for supper.”
He curled those two fingers and rubbed slowly at her G-spot. “Really?”
It took everything she had to keep her knees locked and her hips still. Time to make this pup understand his place. “You really shouldn’t play with me, young man.”
“Or what will happen?”
She twisted her fingers in his hair and tilted his head to the side. Leaning low, she whimpered when he followed the movement, keeping his hand inside her. “I’ll have to teach you what a circus madam can do with that cock of yours.”
“I’m not here to have you play with my dick. We’re here to talk about these transactions and your misbehavior.” His lips latched on to her nipple with a quick suction and the game changed.
His lips twitched. She’d become the seduced seductres
s and by the pocket-protector-wearing dork of her dreams.
Ivy slid onto his lap and spread her thighs, draping her knees to the outside of each of his. Those wonderful thick fingers sunk deeper. He bit a path from her nipple to her neck, and then licked the sting away.
“I didn’t know they taught you goons these kind of tricks.”
He chuckled against her ear. “The job didn’t. I happen to have been bested by a beautiful artistic director when I was a sophomore in college.”
Ivy wiggled a hand beneath her lap and gripped his thick cock. Nothing pencil-like there. “And?
“She tamed me with her tongue and later her whip.”
Her breaths deepened. “Did she?”
“Yes…Mistress.”
Delight at his use of the title made her want to squirm, but then he’d know how well he’d pleased her. “I didn’t realize that artistic directors carried whips.”
“Mine did.” He tipped her back until she was bowed across his lap, her hair pooling on the carpet beneath them. “Now, shut up and let me teach you what I’ve learned.”
His long fingers scissored inside her, stretching and preparing her for his girth. He hiked one thigh up, draping her even more open and settling her calf on his shoulder, completely exposing her pussy to his gaze and his hand.
The loss of his fingers was enough to make her groan with disapproval until she felt the first push at her anus. He didn’t go easy on her and pushed two digits in to the second knuckle. The burn tightened everything inside of her.
“Take it all.”
His command did something to her heart that she’d never suspected a man capable of doing.
“Take it for me.”
Her breath left in a rush as her bones melted. “Oh, baby boy.”
He wrenched free and lifted her, flipping her over so her chest flattened across her vanity. Normally, she’d have stayed in control, teaching her man how she’d like it, but he knew. He’d been in training for years, and had finally decided to step up.
The ugly brown trousers dropped to the ground along with their game. “Say you’ll be with me.”
“Dirk, I…”
“Just me.”
“I…I can’t.” She didn’t do monogamy. Had never planned on being in a committed relationship. “Don’t ruin this.”
“You only want the game?”
“Yes, the games are all we have.”
He ripped open a condom and rolled on the latex. “Are you sure about that?”
She blew out a breath that billowed her cheeks. Still stretched, still yearning for what he was about to take, still she had to resist. “I’m sure. I gave you one night. One night of role-playing and you’re messing it up. You know I don’t let anyone top me.”
He didn’t ease slowly inside her as she’d expected and had come to love about his patient entries. He fucked her, slamming his cock deep inside her, dragging the thick veined organ back out before rushing back inside.
He caught her hair in his palm and yanked her head back. “Look at who is mastering who here.” A thick finger worked inside her, fighting for space between her labia and his cock. “Who else can fill you so completely?”
Her pussy burned. He’d make her admit things she’d never shared with anyone, and she hoped like hell she didn’t hate him for it later. “Only you.”
She lost the added texture of his finger, but soon found it pressing against her rear entry. “Dirk? What are we doing?”
“If I get to dominate you only once… If I can only own you this one time, you’ll remember it forever.” He pressed his finger inside her anus, lubricating her passage before adding another. “Feel me. I own you in this moment.”
And he did. He owned her completely and a bit of her cold heart begged for her to share that with him. She’d never been this free with anyone. It should scare her that he had her in a completely submissive position, but it didn’t. She trusted him with everything.
Their eyes met in the reflection of the glass above her. His promised love, protection and complete trust. Hers warred with each of those promises.
The first few quivers of her release rippled down her stomach, and he caught her there, holding his free hand to her torso, forcing her to feel the stretch of his cock and keeping her from squirming free of the powerful orgasm rocking her. She was helpless to do anything but ride the pleasure. It ripped over her body, covering her in sweat and tension before the snap. And then she was there, sinking over the edge and completely his.
Watching his Mistress give him absolute trust and power was more than his cock could stand. Dirk gripped her hips, using the last few pulses of her clenching pussy to ease his own cock to fulfillment. He jetted into her in long, hot spurts, wishing she’d let him go bare just once. He didn’t wait for his heart to slow before gathering her into a hug, easing her into a sitting position on his lap.
She shivered beneath his palms and the hot flood of her tears burned his chest. When they’d started this game earlier that evening, it had been a test of wills. He’d wanted her to move in with him, and she’d told him no—again—but then she’d paused and given him a challenge. If he could make her his for just one night, if he could find a way to master the unwilling for just one night, she’d know him truly worthy of her trust.
And then she’d think about taking their five-year noncommitted relationship to another level. He wasn’t stupid. He hadn’t waited around for a woman he didn’t think worthy of his love. And as much as she protested monogamy, he knew she hadn’t taken a lover since him—at least not one they hadn’t shared together.
“Ivy, are you okay?” He wiped the sweaty tendrils of her light-blonde hair from her forehead, kissing away beads of sweat. “Talk to me.”
She rolled her face into his neck and nipped him, but didn’t pull back. “Dirk.”
“Please, Mistress. I can’t stand your silence.”
He’d enjoyed the chance to be her Master, but he wasn’t a switch, and deep down he needed her to help him through this. If he’d fucked this moment up, he’d never forgive himself.
Long nails scraped across his scalp before fisting in his hair. “You did good, boy, but if you ever try to top me again, I’ll take my crop to your ass for hours. I’ll feed your balls to my tigers, and then let my pony girls fit you with a nice fat cock in your ass.”
He smiled into her hair and relaxed beneath her hold. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Now. You want me?”
“Yes.”
She pulled back, shoving her hair away from her face. “You love me?”
“Absolutely and only you. I worship you.”
“Say it.”
“Ivy D. Suede, I am yours. Your submissive. Your slave. I love you and only you. You are my world, Mistress.”
His declaration ripped the inside of her soul.
When Dirk had first applied to be her administrative assistant, she’d scoffed at the young college kid looking for a part-time job. He’d been so eager to please, she’d jumped at the chance to tease him mercilessly—her own private toy to play with when she chose to bring her circus home every three months. He’d been a virgin to the darker delights, but a completely devout student. She’d never thought their relationship would get to this complex level, but now…how could she not lead them there?
Granted, most of their time together was spent online or by phone, but when he’d finished his master’s program earlier this year, she knew he wanted more. This was only supposed to have been the test to prove she couldn’t give him his dream. But he’d risen to the challenge and slipped the cables of love around her heart.
She scraped her nails down his cheek, enjoying the red scratches left behind. “I love you, my slave. How could I not?”
His dark eyes widened. “So does this mean…?”
She nodded once.
He wrapped those strong arms around her waist and wept against her chest. “I thought you’d never see it.”
“Oh I saw it, my love, I
just didn’t want to.” She waited a moment for him to compose himself. “I won’t give up my circus. It does well for me. For us.”
“Never. I’d never ask that. I only ask that I get to share it with you. I want to be near you always.”
“Always.” She smiled, and her big nerd whooped out his joy. “Did you just cry out without permission?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Good.” She grinned at him, climbed from his lap, and reached for her favorite flogger. “I’m going to begin our next game. We’ll see how happy you are about this arrangement when your cock weeps for me.” Ivy snapped the leather strands against his thighs. “What are you waiting for, slave?”
He grinned. “Your love, Mistress. Only your love.”
Concerto for Cellist and Maestro
Michael Bracken
I stood at the podium and tapped my baton. The fifteen-minute union-mandated break had been over for twenty-three seconds and it was past time to return to work. Frustrated by our first run-through, I knew we had no time to spare.
The brass section sounded like honking geese and the violins like screeching cats. I suspected one of the bass players—a last-minute substitution for a musician who had broken his arm while skiing—couldn’t sight-read music. And I couldn’t prevent myself from repeatedly glancing at Alejandro, a third-chair cellist who had joined the orchestra at the beginning of the season following months of blind auditions. His smoldering brown eyes, perpetually cocky smirk, rich caramel skin, shoulder-length auburn hair, broad chest and narrow waist, and the bulge in his pants when he spread his legs to accommodate his cello all distracted me from the beauty and complexity of the music in the score spread across the podium before me.
As a woman in a traditionally male occupation I had to let my baser desires smolder deep within me, even as I let my passion ignite eighty-plus musicians so that audiences would erupt with simultaneous musical orgasms and standing ovations.
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