The Greatest Risk

by Kristen Ashley

  Sixx had a feeling “enjoy” was a relative term in this context.

  But she said nothing. Only nodded.

  “Yes?” he pushed.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Something flashed in his eyes. It looked like annoyance, or maybe it was excitement.

  “Be still,” he said.

  She nodded again.

  He wrapped one hand around the side of her neck, leaning deeply into her.

  She felt the toy nudge the lace between her legs aside, and she held his gaze, peering deeply into his heated eyes. Hers, she suspected, were far more heated, as he slowly slid the vibrator inside her. He positioned it perfectly, internally as well as against her clit, and she couldn’t bite back the little mew that she emitted when he turned it on.

  God, that was nice.

  In her state, too nice.

  Damn.

  She couldn’t bite that mew back, but she was proud it was just that with the electric shock the toy sent surging through her body. Her fingers tightened on his knees, and sweet, hot satisfaction saturated his eyes.

  Right, she liked him content and peaceful, watching her walk to him sitting by his pool.

  But that look just hit second best to the look right there that was all she could see.

  He was getting off on this.

  Not a surprise, that was part of the point, but him not hiding it from her was.

  He was remote with his slaves, almost removed in some scenes, just like her, but his was stern, assertive. The tenderness and affection only came when he needed to use it to get what he was after.

  But he was giving it to her right there, nothing hidden.

  He loved her on her knees before him.

  And that just made it worse because it made it oh so much better.

  “Stay still for me, Simone,” he said, sitting back, and she almost went with him, she so didn’t want to lose that look. She didn’t want it distant from her either. “You can chew and swallow what I give you. But remain motionless except for your mouth.”

  She did as told, already feeling the fronts of her thighs start quivering, her fingers digging into the muscle around his knees as a response to his command, what was happening between her legs.

  “Say, ‘Yes, Master,’” he urged gently.

  “Yes…”

  He waited.

  She couldn’t finish.

  He smiled a sweet, hot, wicked, magnetic smile that sent another pulse through her as if he’d turned up the vibrator working inside her when he had not.

  Then he reached to the table to dip a blackberry in yogurt and feed it to her.

  He fed her and himself as she knelt between his legs, gazing at his face, gripping his knees, chewing and swallowing and fighting the ripples of pleasure swelling from cunt to nipples to scalp to knees all the way down her shins straight to her toes.

  She was trembling and finding it difficult to concentrate on chewing and swallowing when she thought he was going to take pity on her as he murmured, “Enough breakfast, darling.”

  She drew in a breath and released it but sucked in another one when he kept speaking.

  “Now for your punishment for what you did at the pit.”

  Damn.

  She thought that had been her punishment.

  Okay, she wanted to give him everything, she wanted to be everything for him, and she’d fallen at the first hurdle.

  And now she might fail at this.

  But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t.

  That said, she had a feeling it was going to take all she had.

  “My waistband, Simone,” he said. “Bring it down. Expose me. All of me.”

  Oh yes.

  It was going to take all she had.

  The moan surged up and out before she could catch it, and things didn’t get better when she looked down at his lap, seeing him hard and straining against the knit fabric of his lounge pants.

  Yes, hell yes.

  He was getting off on this.

  The pants were dark gray. The waistband black and elastic.

  If pulled down to expose his cock and cup his balls, it would undo her.

  He had a beautiful dick. Unsurprisingly, it was just like the rest of him, thick, long, and exquisitely formed. Giving him head was a religious experience.

  Doing it close to climax with a g-spot vibrator and clit stimulator working inside her might kill her.

  “You’ll learn,” he said softly, “that I don’t like repeating myself. Now, my waistband, Simone.”

  She lifted her eyes to his, then forced her hands to move.

  Curling her fingers into the waistband of his pants at the sides, she pulled them a couple of inches down before she ran her fingers along the front, tugging the elastic over his cock.

  It bounded free, and at the sight of it she had to suck the insides of her mouth between her molars and bite hard to beat back everything that exposing his beauty made her feel.

  It didn’t get better when she worked the waistband under his balls, the elastic cradling them against the root of his shaft.

  She could sketch that. She’d give it an entire page. Then she’d do something she never did—rip it out and frame it so she could look at it whenever she pleased.

  He was that gorgeous.

  “Glistening, Simone,” he whispered, “every inch. Once you have me as I wish, hold my cock in your mouth and do not move.”

  It was close to the order she’d given Jennifer at his pool party, and having her own command turned on her turned her on.

  Or considering her current state, turned her on a whole lot more.

  Willing herself to withstand this for him, Sixx rested her hands on his thighs and bent in, tongue out, and did as she was commanded. She licked him to wet every inch. The taste of him, the musk of him, the feel of his steel under the soft skin of his cock, the vulnerability of his sac, just the fact he was formed perfectly, it was torture, and the pads of her fingers were convulsively contracting and releasing in his flesh as the world narrowed to his dick and balls and her cunt and clit.

  His voice had grown thick when he ordered, “Now slide me inside, take me as deep as you can, and hold.”

  Okay, yes.

  This might kill her.

  She slid him inside and held.

  Having that beautiful cock held deep in her mouth was a fabulous agony.

  God, she was going to come.

  Just holding him in her mouth, she was going to come.

  She felt her entire body tremble.

  Fuck, she was going to come.

  She gripped his thighs so hard she fancied she could feel each sinew of his muscles under her fingertips, and that didn’t help a thing.

  She was going to explode.

  She was going to let him down.

  She was going to come apart.

  She felt him trail a finger from the layered hair at the nape of her neck down that helpless line to the knot at the top of her spine.

  And at his touch, she entered the zone.

  Her mind cleared.

  She was his.

  She was owned.

  She was slave to Stellan.

  She was serving and she’d done wrong, so she was being punished.

  She felt the ache and pulse between her legs, the throb at her clit, and they were elegant in the pain they caused of her need to release. Every inch, every centimeter of his cock she held in her mouth was a gift. Serving him was her purpose.

  It was what she was born to do.

  And she was not allowed to come.

  So she would not.

  Until he told her to.

  Her fingers stopped convulsing and just gripped him tight as she held strong and did as Stellan bid her to do.

  “That’s it, darling,” he murmured tenderly, having felt it, felt her give over, felt her settle into service, that good of a Dom, that attuned to Sixx, he didn’t miss it for a moment. Drifting his finger back up and caressing the nape of her neck, he continued
, “Now suck.”

  She sucked, madly, wildly, like working his cock was her only reason for being.

  His finger left her nape so all of them could sift into her hair. They tightened and pulled, and she knew to bob.

  “Yes,” he growled, and she felt his body tauten all around her.

  She blew him, sucking hard, slipping him in and out fast, digging her nails into the flesh of his thighs.

  He pulled her off of him using her hair, and in a rough voice commanded, “Up.”

  She surged to her feet.

  He instantly slid the vibrator out from inside her, tossed it on the towel, then grasped behind her thighs, hauling her toward him.

  She moved into the seat, her knees at his sides, her head tipped down, looking him in his eyes as his body slid lower in the chair. He used his hands to position her. She felt the thick, slick head of his cock shifting the lace aside, he jerked her down on him, filling her, and her head shot back.

  Glory.

  Hallelujah.

  “Watch your Master as you serve him,” he growled.

  She immediately bent her head forward, and his open palm landed on her ass.

  Fucking fabulous.

  “Move,” he demanded.

  She moved.

  “Fast, Simone, grip me, milk your Master,” he ordered throatily.

  She went faster, constricting around him, watching his dark face get darker, satisfaction and domination filling his features, making them so handsome she could have wept at the honor of witnessing the sight as he wrapped his fingers around her buttocks. Digging in. Using her flesh to pull her down, up, down, crashing her into him.

  She started panting.

  “Open the lace, expose your breasts to me,” he grunted.

  She moved her hands instantly to do as told.

  “Hold them on offer to me.”

  She did that too, rounding them at the bottoms, holding her breasts in her hands, still driving down on his dick.

  A magnificent sneer hit his face that pounded between her legs as sure as his cock was doing. “Who are you?”

  She didn’t even think.

  Sixx was gone. Sixx had never even existed.

  It was all her now.

  Simone.

  Simone Marchesa.

  The woman who belonged to Stellan Lange.

  “I’m Simone,” she breathed.

  “Who owns you?”

  “You do,” she gasped.

  “Rub your thumbs over your nipples.”

  She did and moaned, having to fight tipping her head back at the same time holding on to her orgasm, determined not to let go.

  Saving herself …

  For him.

  Serving herself …

  To him.

  “Who’s your Master?” he asked.

  She stared into his eyes. “You are, baby.”

  “Say it,” he whispered.

  God.

  His fingers dug into her ass.

  “Say it, Simone,” he pushed.

  She moved faster on him, arcing her back but keeping her head tilted so she held his eyes.

  But she didn’t say it.

  “You’ll give that to me,” he told her.

  She kept riding him.

  His hands left her ass, moved up her back, clenched in her hair, and he dragged her head to his. Their foreheads colliding, she watched from close as his eyes flashed, then closed as a heavy breath escaped his lips, fanning over hers, and she felt his body tense and strain under her.

  “Hold,” he grunted.

  She stopped, full of him, as he climaxed under her.

  She did it.

  She made it.

  She gave him what he wanted.

  She felt like shouting her triumph, and the need to orgasm had never been so huge.

  But she held on, squeezed his cock with the walls of her pussy, and took in his soft sigh as she did.

  Slowly, his grip on her hair loosened, his eyes opened and looked into hers.

  They were languid … beautiful.

  His breath was evening.

  She was still panting.

  “You’ve done well, darling,” he murmured.

  Thank God.

  “I’m glad, baby,” she whispered.

  “Clean you up, eat you out, then when you’re ready, set about giving you your reward.”

  Oh hell.

  He was talented at giving head, and she knew being “ready” was not getting a reward after getting an orgasm.

  “Go upstairs, wash me from you,” he ordered. “When I join you, I want you on our bed on your knees with them spread wide, facing the headboard. I want you riding my face.”

  Shit.

  Just the visual that brought to mind took her right back to quivering.

  “Okay, Stellan,” she muttered.

  His hands slid down to her neck, and one over the other, squeezed.

  “You’ll give it to me,” he told her quietly.

  She knew what he meant.

  Declaring him her Master.

  And she wanted to.

  But she wasn’t sure she could do it.

  “When you believe,” he whispered.

  That was just it.

  She’d never believe.

  She swallowed.

  He didn’t push it further.

  “Slide me out, darling. And go do as I say.”

  She nodded. She slid him out, moved off of him, and on unsteady legs, the ache between hers, the heaviness in her breasts, the intense sensation at her nipples, the sensitivity of her skin had been downshifted significantly, but they were nowhere near gone.

  She started to move around his chair but stopped when he hooked her with an arm along her belly.

  She looked down at him.

  “I took you there. I took you there with just a touch, and you know what that means,” he said gently.

  Sixx stared at him, beginning to tremble for a different reason.

  “Untested subs, Simone, they do not find it easy to go there,” he continued.

  He was right.

  Submissives new to the scene required a lot more time and work to guide them into the headspace where they could give over control, slip into the zone, find themselves languishing in the agony and ecstasy of being at the mercy of someone else’s will, not content but wholly rapturous they were used to serve their Dominant.

  Their first full scene, and she’d found herself right there.

  Except calling him Master, something he was. He knew it, she knew it. It was just something she could not say—he’d guided her right there.

  Because that was her as it was him.

  From the moment they met there was no other way it could be.

  “Stellan—” she whispered.

  “How much more proof do you need that you’re mine, Simone?” he asked.

  She didn’t have an answer to that.

  “Undeniably mine,” he stated the answer she refused to say. Then he went in for the kill. “Forever, sweetheart.”

  Forever.

  She knew she was.

  She was his.

  Forever.

  The thing was … that was true, absolutely, without a single doubt true.

  But it didn’t mean what he thought it meant.

  And she was going to give him what she could.

  Then she was going to have to do something about it.

  twelve

  Sealed

  SIXX

  Sixx lay on her belly between Stellan’s cocked legs, holding his balls in her mouth, resting the side of her head in the juncture of hip and thigh, recovering.

  He’d eaten her …

  And eaten her …

  And eaten her …

  Not unrelenting, he slowed to give her time to pull herself together, but he kept her riding his face for what had felt like hours. She was surprised the sun was still shining through the windows, for she had withstood the work of his mouth so long she felt the sun surely had gone down and
the moon should be filling the sky.

  Stellan’s fingers were stroking gently along the line of her hair at her neck, as she stared up close at his distended cock, memorizing every line, ridge, vein and swell, thinking in her current state what she thought not in her current state.

  Seriously.

  His cock could have been sculpted by an artist.

  “Lift your eyes to me, Simone.”

  She knew he meant her to keep him in her mouth as previously instructed, so she did that and tilted only enough to look up the textured sections of his abs, over the bulging crests of his pecs, past the corded column of his throat, to his adoring, languorous, dark blue eyes.

  It was then, in the zone, his to do with as he willed, she shot right back into herself.

  Mira looked at Trey like that when she worked him.

  And Leigh looked at Olly like that.

  Now she had that.

  She had that.

  From Stellan.

  God.

  “Do you understand now the difference between when you’re simply mine and when you’re mine in play?” he asked.

  Man, did she ever.

  She blinked once.

  His lips curved up in a way she felt buzz in her clit.

  “You’ve earned your reward now, darling,” he murmured. “Release me, cover me and come up to straddle me.”

  Her body a mass of electrified nerve endings that she’d grown accustomed to, but were nevertheless an enduring, splendid misery, she slid his balls out of her mouth, shifted up, adjusted the waistband of his pants so it covered his privates, then she moved up to straddle him even as he kept his legs cocked, not making it easy.

  When she got in position, she discovered a new beautiful misery, feeling him hard against her wet, needy core and knowing she could do nothing about it.

  Stellan slid his hands across her waist to the small of her back and up the sides of her spine, her skin so sensitized, if she let go, even an inch of his touch could drive her to climax.

  But she held strong.

  She had no clue how she did.

  But she did.

  For him.

  He pulled her down to him as his hands moved until she was resting chest to chest on him, her fingers curled over his shoulders.

  “Our first time as Master and his pretty, stubborn slave, I’ve something special planned,” he told her.

  She was in little doubt that something special would not be something special.