Luke dodged a couple who’d suddenly decided sucking cock in the middle of the hall was totally appropriate.
Then he froze, his blood rushing through veins that had suddenly shrunk to the size of a pinhead. That fucking dom. He touched Bree’s forehead. She didn’t move. She took it; she accepted. She even let the fat man hold her hips and grind his cock against her backside as the dom stroked her skin and the woman watched with avid, glowing eyes.
Then the bastard pinched her nipple, and Bree’s head fell back, her hair flowing like silk over her shoulders.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Luke’s brain went into countdown to an explosion. The shock of betrayal was physical, a clenching of his teeth, the contraction of his heart. His feet rooted to the floor, he wanted to turn around and leave her to her own debauchery.
Fuck her.
Yet he could hear his own breath rough through his nostrils, and he knew he wouldn’t leave her. He could hate her for doing this, but he would never leave her defenseless.
33
“TAKE YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HER.” LUKE HAD NOT EVEN BEEN aware of his legs moving, but he was there, right beside Bree, the scent of her perspiration perfuming the hall.
“Ah, so now the knight in shining armor deigns to show up,” the black-haired dom mocked.
“Yeah,” he said. “She’s mine. You know it. Back off.”
The man curled a lip at him. “Let’s ask her what she wants.”
The couple had taken a step back, better to behold the brawl. Bree simply stood there, her arm out as if the woman was still holding it, her nipples pert above the bustier. Head down now, she stared at the floor as if the patterns in the hardwood were fascinating.
Her lack of acknowledgment only pissed him off more. “She doesn’t get a choice. I’m her master.”
“Right,” the guy scoffed, the small mob in the hall no longer moving, but stopping to observe the fun. Then he stabbed a finger dramatically at Bree’s forehead. “That’s why you need to beat her to make her comply.” Luke winced inwardly at the man’s words. “Because you’re such a good master.”
Oh yeah, the guy was a showman, his eyes passing over the crowd, directing them with a resonant voice that wasn’t loud but carried just the same. “Isn’t that right, everyone? A good master has to beat compliance into his submissive.”
There were murmurs through the hall, some of them growing ugly. Luke resisted the urge to explain, took a step closer to the man, and lowered his voice to a growl. “She is mine. Back your ass off.”
“Shall we fight over the lady’s honor? Have a duel?” The dom brandished an invisible sword.
Luke was uncomfortably aware that he was on the opposite end of the spectrum now, Derek’s end, the villain’s end, the man who had abused his submissive. This dom was now her defender, the way Luke had once been.
There was only one way to regain the upper hand. He’d dislike himself for it later, yet he turned on his heel and faced Bree. “You’ve been feeding your new friends the wrong impression.”
She raised her head, met his eyes. “I told them the truth, Master. They wouldn’t believe me.”
“How are you going to make it up to me?”
Her eyes flashed across his face, trying to read his mind, to figure out how to please him, how to give him what he needed, how to appease him. “Suck your cock?” she asked.
The crowd hooted. The woman who’d been hanging on Bree’s arm clapped her hands.
“That’s not good enough,” Luke said. “You need to show them that you’ll do anything for me.”
She searched his face. She wouldn’t find the answer. He was a mass of emotions that included anger, guilt, incomprehension, shame, and beneath it all, desire. A deep desire to have her here and now, to prove to them all that he was the only one she wanted.
Yet in the core of his soul, he wanted her to take his hand and lead him out, away, to a place all their own, without all the posturing.
Tell the bozo to fuck off.
“Tell him you’d rather have a real man fuck you in front of him,” the dom said. “A man who doesn’t have to beat you to get what he wants.” The crowd punctuated with more hoots and a chant of “fuck him, fuck him.”
If she touched the guy, Luke would have to do bodily harm. But he stood tall, fists clenched, jaw aching with the strain of waiting for an answer. The crowd waited breathlessly with him, and for long, long moments, the hallway was so silent, he could almost hear her heartbeat echoing off the walls.
Finally she spoke, so softly that even he had to strain for her words. “Fuck me while he watches.”
Damn her. He’d wanted her to beg him to take her away.
“Hah,” the dom barked a laugh, and Luke wanted to smack the smile off his face. “We both should fuck you and you can choose between us.” The asshole pumped a fist in the air. “We know who’ll win, don’t we, my friends.” The crowd cheered him on.
Luke stepped so close that her sexual perfume clouded his mind. She was aroused. Before, her scent had been tinged with fear, now it was pure sex. “I’ll fuck you for them,” he murmured for her alone. “I’ll make you come for them. I’ll make you scream.” He waited two beats. “Then I’m leaving. With or without you.”
BREE SHUDDERED WITH HIS INTENSITY. HIS EYES WERE SO DARK, angry, forbidding, so terrifying, she couldn’t take in enough air to breathe.
Yet he’d come for her, and her body was on fire for him.
She had no doubt he’d walk out on her and expect her to run to catch up. Or he’d leave her behind. That was her punishment. She wanted to know why he was here, how he’d found her, why he’d left his happy little home. But those things were all secondary. What mattered was his closeness. The heat of his body, the hardness of his cock, the angry tick in his jaw muscle.
He was here. He’d left everything at home to rescue her, had known she needed rescuing. It didn’t matter how; it just was.
“Whatever you want, Master.”
With her words, he grabbed her hand and dragged her away from them all, Margie, Ron, the dark master. The throng parted like it did for John Wayne dragging Maureen O’Hara in The Quiet Man. His limit reached, his patience ended, where all that was left was brute force. She damn near had her orgasm right there.
But Luke was just starting. Yanking her through the first doorway he came to, she was greeted by the sight of a bare-assed man taking a woman on a swing. Behind them, the wall was a huge screen projecting a poppy-filled field to create the feeling of sex in the outdoors. Luke hit a switch on the wall, and the projection changed to an aerial scene from a plane as if the couple was now skydiving.
“Out,” Luke commanded. Hearing the masterful tone, the guy pulled out, tugged his pants up, and toddled off with his lady.
“Screw the swing,” Luke’s dark-haired taunter said, and punched another button on the wall as he entered. The swing retracted, the projector turned off, and the room was suddenly lit by unrelenting overhead lights. “You don’t need props. Do her on the floor.”
Luke smiled acidly and reached beyond the man for yet another button. A bed came down out of the wall. “Screw the floor. I don’t want to hurt her backside.”
They were fighting over her. It was the oddest battle, but it was a battle. A sexual duel. She was the prize.
Then Luke picked her up bodily and tossed her onto the bed. She bounced. He straddled her body, then began deftly popping the front fastenings of the bustier. Beyond his shoulder, she could see the room filling up with spectators, Margie and Ron right up front for the show.
Her breasts bared, Luke pinched her nipple. She didn’t scream. She could only moan.
“That’s what you like, isn’t it. Pain. Fast and hard.” He tweaked the other nipple.
She felt her moisture coating the insides of her thighs. “Yes, Master.”
Then he slid back on his knees and shoved the bottom half of her dress to her waist.
A breath shot from his nostrils. “You little bitch.
You aren’t wearing panties.”
You little bitch. Oh yes, it was so different when Luke said it. Nothing like Marbury.
Her body flushed with need. “You told me I was to wear only dresses, Master, and never any panties.”
Looming over her, he bracketed her throat with his hand, held her still, put his face right down to hers. “Only for me, slut. Not some salivating crowd and a hotshot asshole who thinks he’s a man.” She quivered with the rage roughening his voice. “You will be punished. Not just tonight. It will go on and on.”
The spectators cheered, though she didn’t know how they could have heard his soft and deadly voice.
He put his hand between her legs. “Look how wet you are, my filthy little whore.”
He stroked her, delved between the lips of her pussy and caressed her clit until she quaked with his anger and the need to come.
“Let me taste her,” someone said. She thought it was Ron.
“Fuck off.” He didn’t even turn his head, just kept his fingers against her, his eyes on her. Her body rose to meet him, wordlessly begging him to go deeper.
“Do you need a little help there? Looks like you’re having trouble getting it up,” the dom jeered.
Luke ignored him as if he were a fly not even worth a swat and braced an arm by her head as he played her clit. “You like this, don’t you, all the attention, all the men wanting you.”
She parted her lips but the words wouldn’t come.
He worked her faster, his fingers covered with her juice. “You love driving me to crazy things. You love the power.” Then he pushed a finger inside and found her G-spot.
“Master.” She gasped out his title.
“You piss me off, then sit back and wait for me to go wild on you.”
“No, Master.” She couldn’t explain what she’d needed tonight, couldn’t tell him about Marbury, and the horror of letting the horrible man say those things to her, only to find she wanted exactly this, for Luke to find her and go wild for her, just as he said. “I needed you.” She cried out with the words. It wasn’t climax, it was more, a need so great it couldn’t be assuaged. “And you weren’t there.”
“I’m here now,” he said, his voice grating.
Her heart literally sang. He was here. For her. “Fuck me, Master. Fuck me for them. Show them you want me. Please.”
She wanted him to show her. Every time, she needed him to prove it all over again.
“If I fuck you, I have to stop long enough to put on a condom.” He’d have to stop touching her, stroking her, turning her into a crazy thing. “You’ll need to touch yourself while I get ready.”
He pulled her hand down and laid it between her legs. “Rub yourself for him,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s what you want anyway. To give him a show. To make him see how hot you are. Give them all a show.”
Just like the fantasy. “No, it’s only for you.”
“Liar,” he muttered harshly. “Stroke yourself for them.”
He pulled back and away, leaving her with legs spread and pussy exposed.
“Do it,” he ordered.
She started the play, fingers round and round her pussy, her clit, until she closed her eyes and tipped her head back into the mattress.
He grabbed her chin. “Look at them. I want you to see them watching you.”
The dom stood at the side of the bed, arms crossed over his chest, a massive bulge in his jeans. Margie stroked Ron through his open zipper. Men. Women. Leering. It was terrifying, exhilarating. She wanted them to watch her, to want her, to caress themselves for her. She was so wet, so hungry for it. Want me, need me, desire me.
On his knees between her legs, Luke drew a condom from his pocket, unzipped, pulled out his thick cock and stroked himself as he watched her with eyes as avid and greedy as the rest of the crowd.
“This is what you want, isn’t it. To see me hard for you. To know I want you, that I’m the one who’ll do anything to fuck you, to have you. That I’m wild for you.”
“Yes, Master, yes.” With his words, his cock, his touch, all the eyes on her, she was so close to the edge, she could fly off into nothingness.
Then the condom was on, and he covered her, hiding her from the throng, his cock at her entrance. “Put me inside you,” he whispered, eyes blazing.
She covered him with her own moisture, wetting him, preparing him, then arched slightly to take half an inch.
Arms straight, he braced himself above her, lasered her with an angry gaze, then plunged into her. So deep, so good. The crowd roared, and she thought the sound might be coming from inside her. He rotated his hips against her, caressing her clit with the movement.
A moment later, he shifted, pulling back on his haunches to drape her legs over his thighs. His cock in her was now visible to the crowd, the deep penetration.
“I need a cushion under her ass.”
It was Luke’s rival who reacted, pulling a pillow from the head of the bed, then sliding it beneath her as she lifted her hips.
“Perfect,” Luke purred. “I can feel your G-spot.” He pumped slowly. “Do you feel me?”
“Yes, Master, exquisitely.” It was a measured, relentless torture that thrust her to the edge.
“Touch your clit. Caress it.” He kept the pace slow, mind-altering. “Filthy whore,” he muttered. “This is what you wanted all along. You incited me to make me punish you. To make me hurt you.”
She no longer heard the people around them. The faces blurred and receded. Until there was only Luke, her master, his body taking her, forcing her, his words washing over her.
“You’re what I’ve wanted all along,” she told him, then started to come in a long white explosion of light. He drove harder. She screamed soundlessly, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut. There was only his cock in her, his body pounding her, his touch, his scent, his voice, the pulse of his climax inside her.
Finally, in his arms, she found the relief she’d been seeking.
34
BREE WAS DAZED, AND LUKE SHOULD HAVE BEEN FLOATING IN that space right along with her, lying in her arms, basking in her warmth. It was what he craved. Those sweet moments after sex where his body was replete, his head filled with her scent, and her skin caressing his. But he’d just allowed himself to be goaded into fucking her to show his prowess.
There was the crowd around them, too, seething with tension. And that fucking dom. Luke pulled out, backed away, tossed the condom without giving a damn where it landed, and zipped his pants. Then he pulled down Bree’s skirt. She could barely help him.
“Well, that was some show,” the ringmaster called. “But we still haven’t proven who’s better.”
The fastenings of her bodice were almost too much for Luke in his current state, but he managed. He helped her to a sitting position. “She’s not fucking you,” he said. “She neither wants nor needs you.”
As he pulled Bree to her feet, the dom blocked his way to the door. “You still haven’t let her speak.” The man stood with legs parted, hands on his waist.
“Did you let your submissive speak?” Luke challenged, tucking Bree close to his side, helping her stand.
The man smiled. “Touché.”
“You gave her away to other men. And to a woman. And right in front of her, you begged to touch another woman.”
“That I did. It’s my right to punish. But I don’t raise a hand to her.” His eyes flashed. Luke almost believed the guy bought into his own rhetoric, that he truly was fighting on Bree’s behalf for the right not to be beaten, that within all the bluster, the man didn’t like to see a woman brutalized.
It was that insight only that made Luke explain. “She fell,” he said with excessive quietness. “I don’t hit women or children.” Then he smiled with teeth bared. “Now fuck off.”
The man stared him down for a full thirty seconds. Luke met him eye to eye.
Finally, the guy took one step to the side. “I believe you.” Then he turned, spread his hand out like a
courtier, and the crowd swept aside.
Luke got her the hell out of there.
“You know where to come back to if he starts mistreating you,” the dom called as his parting shot. Luke didn’t allow Bree to turn around or even acknowledge the man.
“My car,” she said a couple of minutes later as he herded her along the sidewalk outside. “It’s back there.”
He held her tighter. “I’m not letting you drive alone. I don’t trust you to go home.”
“But I need my car.”
“We’ll take BART up tomorrow and get it.” He would drive them to the station, then they’d ride the rapid transit together.
“But my car might get towed, and I have to go to work tomorrow.”
He stopped and gave her a look that should have reduced her to a quivering puddle. “Then get in your car, and I will follow you to your mother’s house. If you deviate from that route, I will run you off the road.”
She swallowed.
“Is that understood?”
“Maybe you should take me to my place instead,” she whispered, staring at the concrete.
A group of four couples headed up the club steps, laughing, the women giggling. He stared after them a moment. What did she want? What did she need? Could he ever actually give it to her? Or would she forever be running off somewhere, scaring the crap out of him, just to incite him to acts of debauchery?
“Not your place,” he said. “And not mine. You don’t deserve any one-on-one time after what you did.”
She raised her head. “Didn’t I do exactly what you wanted me to, Master?” Her eyes were still slightly dazed and puzzled. She really didn’t get it.
“What if I can’t rescue you?”
“I didn’t need rescuing, Master.”
He grabbed her chin, held her so she couldn’t look away. “Anything could have happened to you.” More than what had already been done to her, but she refused to see that. “Now don’t piss me off any more than I already am. Get in your car and go to your mother’s.”
“Or what?” she said so softly he had to read her lips when a raucous bout of laughter floated across the night.
What Happens After Dark Page 26
