Masters of the Castle: Witness Protection Program

by Maren Smith

  He rubbed his face and glared at her as she drained the last of her coffee. “I don’t like it.”

  “I don’t, either. It scares the piss out of me.” She sat down next to him, touching his thigh. “Look at it this way. If Grace is hiding here, it’s very likely there are other agents on the lookout for Carmen. We need to find out who they are so we can avoid them.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “If you’re as deep undercover as you said you are, it’s likely that a few of them might recognize you. You might have trained with them. They’d know you on sight, right?”

  Giving her a grudging nod, he said, “I suppose, but there are thousands of agents. What are the odds that one I know would be here?”

  “Are they good enough odds to bet your life on?” She shook her head. “Worse, some of them might recognize you as Carmen’s associate. That means we have to hide you as effectively as you’re trying to hide me.” She stood and walked into the bathroom to retrieve her costume. Slipping Flint’s t-shirt off over her head, she said, “The demerit performance is usually well attended. This will give you a chance to skulk in a corner and watch.”

  “I do not skulk.”

  She laughed at his insulted glare. “I’m an expert skulker. I’ve watched you. You skulk, but it’s an excellent skill for a spy and an inveterate eavesdropper to have.”

  He sighed and helped her with the ties on her costume. “We’re going to breakfast, and then you’re coming back up here until I can find a place to keep you safe.”

  “But—”

  “Holly,” he said, his voice growing impatient. “What are you going to do if Carmen makes you work off your demerits to him?”

  “Probably collapse on the spot!” She tried for a grin but it fell flat. “I don’t think he’ll be there, though. You know he’s never liked waking up early, for one thing. If he’s kept to his old habits, he’s never up and functional before about eleven. And he won’t want to be in front of so many people if he’s the center of attention.”

  Flint went silent for several seconds. She could almost see his brain working as he mulled over the possibilities. Like her, he was probably weighing the risks and benefits to what she readily admitted was a stupid plan. Unfortunately, she didn’t have any better ideas.

  He growled as he straightened the skirt of her costume. “You’re right about Carmen’s sleep schedule, but I don’t like it. You’re going to be too exposed. My answer is still no.”

  “Do you have a better idea? I’m willing to entertain almost anything.”

  “Yes. You stay in this room while I go out and hunt.”

  “Except that one. It’s going to look very strange if you wander around without me. You have to be seen with me, or you’re going to risk blowing your cover to both Carmen and whoever else might be looking for him.” She bit her lip and reached forward to touch his arm. “It wouldn’t surprise me if law enforcement agents weren’t the only ones coming after him. Carmen has made a lot of enemies. Some of them probably know you, and maybe me, too.”

  He grabbed her arm and she screeched when he pushed her face down, bending her over the unmade bed. “If you’re that desperate for a spanking, you got your wish, kajira.” His hand connected with the lover curve of her ass in a stinging slap.

  “Ouch!” She tried to rub the sting away, but he caught her hands and delivered several more spanks to her unprotected backside.

  “Are you going to behave yourself now?” His hand cracked across the top of her thigh and the sting made her howl.

  “Yes! All right! I’ll behave.”

  He helped her up and smoothed the back of her costume down over her ass, then kissed the top of her head. “Good girl. Now, why don’t you teach me a few of those positions you were talking about.”

  Chapter 7

  Though it went against every instinct Flint had to allow her to leave the protection of their suite, Holly was right. The suite wasn’t entirely safe. Neither one of them would have any warning when Carmen showed up. They’d be able to see him coming if they were outside. He just wished he had a better way to disguise her face, especially those incredible eyes.

  “Okay, the one we’ll probably use most often is nadu.” She dropped to her knees, her subconscious grace making him swallow hard as she spread her thighs and laid her hands palms up on her knees. She lowered her head, allowing her hair to cover her face. “You say that, and I sit like this until you give me another command. Got it?”

  He wasn’t sure he could speak. The translucent silk of her costume fell between her knees. Instead of concealing her mound, it highlighted every delicious curve of her pussy. He was so entranced by the vision at his feet, he missed what she said next.

  She reached out and flicked a nail against his shinbone. “Are you listening, Flint? This is important!”

  “Master Miguel, kajira.” He tugged the chain gently, making her sway forward. Crouching down, he pinched her chin between two fingers. “I’ve seen Gorean roleplay before. Although I’ve never done it, I do remember Slaver’s Kiss.”

  Her lips parted as her eyes widened. A faint pink blush colored her chest, rising up until it turned her cheeks the same sweet shade. “I apologize, Master Miguel.”

  “Good girl.” He let go of her chin and stood up. “Slaver’s Kiss, Holly.”

  Straightening her legs until she rested on her knees, she bent forward at the waist to lay her face on the floor then folded her hands behind her head. The back of her costume fell against her skin, revealing her beautiful ass and pussy to his avid gaze.

  The position hid her face completely, even better than the first had done. He wouldn’t use it unless he had to, though. He didn’t want anyone else seeing Holly’s charms. Unfortunately, he was going to have to use the position for its intended purpose before breakfast. Neither one of them could afford for her to slip up and call him by his real name.

  He stepped past her and reached into the dresser drawer for an appropriate implement and gawked at the selection. The drawer held everything from a rabbit fur flogger to a wicked dragon’s tongue. Canes of several sizes rested in an umbrella stand set off to one side. Choosing a relatively benign deerskin flogger, he turned to face her as he shut the drawer. She flinched at the sound, making him grin, but she was too well-schooled to lift her head.

  “I think someone has forgotten their place and needs a reminder,” he said, lifting the silk to reveal the pale globes of her ass. Very faint tan lines decorated the pale skin where a bikini would have covered her, and he couldn’t wait to mark her pristine flesh with a few pink stripes.

  “Yes, Master Miguel.” She shifted, parting her thighs as she settled into her position, hissing out a breath when he trailed the flogger across her backside.

  He bit back a pained groan when a trickle of moisture escaped to trickle down her bared thighs. He wanted nothing more than to lick that bit of wetness from her flesh, but first things first. “Do you want to know how many you’ll be getting, kajira?”

  “It will be as many as you think I deserve, Master.”

  He snapped the flogger across her ass, keeping the stroke light to see how she reacted. When she didn’t make a sound, he continued. Floggers had a wonderful tendency to build. Gentle strokes got stingy after a while, and he wasn’t in any hurry to stop.

  Unfortunately, they didn’t have time for him to bring her to the edge of her endurance, and their first scene together was definitely not a good place to try. He let the tails of the flogger fall just a little harder as he painted her bottom with crisscrossing blows. Her fair skin blushed into pink as he focused all his attention on her, waiting for just a peep of discomfort to escape her lips.

  He let the flogger kiss the sensitive crease between her thighs and ass and, thank God, he got a barely audible moan. Her pussy was wet, glistening with the evidence of her arousal. Kneeling next to her, he tossed the flogger aside and stroked her damp folds.

  Whimpering, she pressed against his hand, s
ilently begging for more. Pushing his ring and middle fingers inside her, he tapped her clit. She bucked and cried out, lifting her head to face him.

  Giving her an evil smirk, he pulled his hands away and gave her his fingers to suck. Greedily, she lapped up the evidence of her arousal until his hand was clean. With one last slap to her upturned ass, he stood and helped her to her feet.

  Her eyes were glazed with passion, her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. She stared up into his face but didn’t say a word.

  Cupping her face with his hands, he kissed her trembling lips, only allowing himself a small taste of her decadent mouth. “If you can go the whole day without calling me Flint, I’ll let you come.”

  “Yes, Master Miguel. Thank you for my punishment.”

  He followed her into the bathroom, washing his hands when she’d taken care of her ablutions. Picking up the loose end of her leash, he led her to the door and out into the hallway. She muttered under her breath then stopped when she caught him looking.

  “I didn’t catch that. What did you say, kajira Holly?”

  “We forgot one position. If you need to guide me somewhere and don’t have a leash, you can say ‘hair.’ I will bend forward, and you can use my hair as a leash.”

  “All right. We’ll hold that one in reserve, just in case.”

  Though the information was useful, that wasn’t what she’d said. It was all he could do to hold his laughter inside. His little slave was not at all happy to be left wanting. She was wrong, too. His parents were most definitely married.

  The scent of bacon made its way up the grand staircase, making his mouth water. He hadn’t eaten much last night and he was starving. He walked faster, only slowing when he realized Holly had to trot to keep up.

  He turned to look at her, giving her a shamefaced grin. “Sorry.”

  “No problem. Cook Connie’s breakfast buffet is worth rushing for.”

  The restaurant was crowded with diners and servers, but he managed to find them a two-person table in a corner. She dropped to her knees without being asked, and he laid her chain on the table to save their spot. He rested his hand on the top of her bowed head as he scanned the room for Carmen. Really, for anyone he knew, or someone whose eyes rested overlong on him or Holly.

  Finding no immediate danger, he asked, “What do you want?”

  “If you don’t mind waiting for it at the omelet station, a spinach and mushroom omelet with gouda, a Belgian waffle with blackberry syrup, some bacon, and orange juice. Oh, and a bowl of fruit.”

  His eyes traveled over the crowd, his Spidey senses tingling for something. He caught a flash of cropped brown hair as a man turned away and disappeared, followed by a woman he didn’t recognize. Flint had seen the man before but couldn’t remember where. The only thing he was sure of was that the man was not one of Carmen’s or any of Carmen’s competitors. Those faces were indelibly imprinted in his mind, and in a file curated by his handler and superiors.

  He sat down, his back to the wall. Unhooking the leash from Holly’s collar, he said, “Change of plans, sweetheart. I want you to go for our food. Just double what you asked for.”

  Keeping her head lowered, she rose to her feet. “Yes, Master Miguel.”

  Such a good girl, and so damned brave. He was going to hate leaving her behind when this was all over and Carmen was in custody.

  Allowing her hair to conceal her eyes, Holly walked around the room, examining faces as she went. She saw no one she recognized, but watched as a man she didn’t know stared at Flint in a way she didn’t entirely care for.

  Actually, it pissed her off. For two years, he’d lived a horrible life with Carmen, doing his job to protect his country and killing his soul in the process. The thought of someone going after him in her house made her do something she was going to get punished for.

  She slunk her way through the tables, intent on cutting the man off as he left the drink station holding two cups of coffee. Stepping in front of him, she kept her eyes downcast as she bumped him with her hip.

  Coffee splashed everywhere and the man swore as Holly dropped to her knees. Ignoring the hot liquid trickling down her arm, she said, “I am so sorry, Master! I was clumsy and wasn’t looking where I was going.”

  He set the cups on the edge of a free table then reached down for her. He helped her to her feet and tipped up her chin. She tried to keep her hair over her face but he swept it away, forcing her to meet his eyes.

  “Are you all right? You didn’t get burned, did you?” His green eyes bored into her, concerned and kind.

  “No, sir.”

  “Good. No harm done then.” He looked down at his shirt, and added, “Well, no harm that a little laundry soap won’t fix.”

  “Master, I am—”

  “Go back to your duties, little one.”

  He turned her to face the buffet and swatted her ass to get her moving. She took several steps forward, then turned to watch. Mopping at the front of his shirt with a napkin, he left the restaurant. A woman she didn’t know followed him and, as they left, she turned around and winked at Holly.

  Mission accomplished. Holly grinned as she retrieved their breakfast from the buffet and wanted to skip as she carried the heavy trays back to their table.

  She’d no sooner set the trays down when Flint said, “Nadu, kajira. You are in deep trouble, and I can’t decide whether to kiss you or spank you.”

  Dropping to her knees, she said, “What’s wrong with both?”

  Rubbing his face with one hand, he glared down at her. “Christ, Holly. I should take you into the Dungeon and beat you like a drum for putting yourself at risk like that.” His eyes narrowing on her arm, he added, “And you got burned.”

  Fishing a piece of ice from his water glass, he rubbed it against the pink scald mark on her arm. She hissed at the contact and tried to pull away, but he held her still with his free hand buried in her hair.

  “Leave it. I’m fine. Did you recognize him?”

  Grimacing, he rubbed the ice over her arm until it melted, then dried her off with a napkin. “Maybe. I don’t know. He’s not one of Carmen’s, though.”

  “Okay. With luck, he didn’t get a good enough look at you to figure out your identity.”

  He cut a large piece of her omelet and fed it to her. “Look, I appreciate what you did, but you can’t put yourself at risk like that again. What if he’d been one of Carmen’s, or someone from a rival gang? Did you stop to think for a moment you might have painted a giant target on your back?”

  She chewed the food, then swallowed. “Can you sprinkle a few drops of pepper sauce on my eggs, please?”

  Groaning, he threw the fork down. “Just sit at the table. I can’t argue with you properly when you’re on your knees.”

  She hid a smile as she took the seat across from him. “Yes, Master Miguel. I did think of that, but I already have a target on me. You, however, do not, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  He spent a long second staring at her then shoveled his breakfast into his mouth, muttering things she couldn’t quite hear as he ate. She wasn’t looking forward to the punishment she knew would be coming, but couldn’t help the clench of arousal in her core when he mentioned the Dungeon. She’d been down there, of course, but had never gotten to play.

  She might have a thing or two to learn about being a spy, but he had to learn that he wasn’t alone in this mess. Though she tried to tell herself that her safety depended on his, it was more than that. She genuinely wanted Flint to succeed and get Carmen off the streets. Though they had no future together, maybe completing his task would bring some measure of peace to his troubled brown eyes.

  When she’d finished the last of her breakfast, he stood and picked up the free end of her leash. “We’re going downstairs. I’m feeling the need to find out if there’s something in that Dungeon I can use to convince you to behave.”

  His eyes darkened and he grabbed her chin. Lowering his lips to hers, he took her
mouth in a brutal kiss. She whimpered and wrapped her arms around his hips, pulling him closer so she could feel his hard arousal against her belly. His hungry possession of her made all thoughts of Carmen, spies, and danger flee her mind.

  The soul patch on his chin abraded her flesh as he trailed kisses down her throat and she whimpered. The sound made him pull away and he flushed when he realized they had an audience.

  He tugged on her leash, making her trot to keep up with his long strides as he led her from the restaurant. Slowing down once they reached the corridor leading toward the Rainbow Room, he dropped her hand and allowed her to fall into step behind him.

  When they passed the Rainbow Room, a single Little Maid saw Holly and went to meet them. Winking at Flint, she said, “Master Kade is doing a Spanking 101 demo in the public play room down the hall.” Glancing up at the clock, she added, “He said that anyone who had demerits to work off could volunteer for the demo. Maybe your guest would like to watch?”

  Flint’s face cleared of the thunderous expression and he smirked. “That’s perfect. Thank you.”

  Pulling Holly under his arm, he walked her to the door. Leaning over, he whispered, “Looks like you’re going to get what you wanted after all. We’re going to keep the Dungeon in reserve for when you disobey me again.”

  She swallowed hard and stared up into his wickedly glinting brown eyes. Damn. She was in for it now. Kade was not known for going easy on subs, especially Chelsea.

  Chapter 8

  Flint’s mood had gone steadily downhill since dawn. Holly was stubborn, headstrong, and utterly unrepentant. He could not believe she’d spilled coffee all over a man he suspected to be a government agent. Flint had seen him before. Maybe they’d had classes together. And he wasn’t likely to miss that eagle-eyed stare that took in everything, or the way he carried himself.