Love Me, Master Me (The Dungeon Fantasy Club Book 6)

by Anya Summers

  It also worried him that she'd decided not to join him. Imagine him, Bastian Dean, touted as a rock'n'roll heart throb by the tabloids, tangled up over the one woman he couldn't seem to pin down. She intoxicated him with her warm smile and sad eyes. Except it was in the most intimate of moments, when he'd been buried inside her quivering heat, when she had gazed at him like he was her superhero, that had made him lose it every time.

  He took the elevator to her room on the third floor. At her door, he knocked rather loudly but there was no response. After trying for a few minutes unsuccessfully, Bastian concluded that she hadn't been lying when she'd said she was tired. He'd not been letting her get much in the way of sleep since they'd both arrived. And last night had been one of the most intense scenes he'd ever performed.

  Was it any wonder she had to get some shut eye?

  It felt good in a 'to the heels of his boots' type of way that she wasn't avoiding him. Bastian was too twitchy yet for sleep, and there was no way in hell he'd go back down to the DFC. Jesse and Tobias would expire from laughter if he did, and Bastian would never live it down. So instead he went down the back stairs, heading for the ballroom.

  He figured he would give the stage equipment a last once over before Declan and Zoey's reception tomorrow night. As he neared the first floor, wistful notes filled with bittersweet longing reached his ears. He knew that voice. As he strode down the last few steps, he followed the sound of Delilah's voice into the conservatory.

  He strolled through the open doors of the archway and once was struck dumb by the sight of her. Delilah sat at the piano bench, playing To Make You Feel My Love in a black robe that went to mid-thigh. The glossy strands of her hair were in one of those top knot things, with strands trailing down over her back.

  But it was the look on her face, the sheer dejected loneliness that struck directly through his heart. Imagine that, Bastian Dean, falling head over heels for the opera star. He approached with silent footsteps until he stood near the ledge of the small stage.

  When she finished her final, heartrending note, Bastian clapped.

  Delilah flinched. Her face swiveled in his direction and he sucked in a breath. There was nothing on this planet he wanted more than he did this woman. He wanted to be the reason she smiled again, the reason her eyes no longer held the aching sorrow.

  "Bastian."

  "I didn't know you could play." He indicated the piano as he stepped onto the dais.

  "Yes, I needed a second instrument when I was studying at Julliard, and took it up. Made it easier when I was learning my vocal solos to be able to sit at the keyboard and plunk out the melody."

  "Well, that was a bit more than plunking."

  He bodily lifted her, sat down on the bench, and repositioned her on his lap. He couldn't stop his contented groan at the feel of her luscious ass pressed up against his thighs, and cradling his cock.

  "What are you doing?" He heard the note of anxiety mingled with desire.

  He nipped at her neck. "I want to see you play that song again, and would prefer a front row seat."

  His hands made short work of the robe belt and he growled at finding her in a swimsuit. Christ, the woman was a goddess and didn't even know it. He planned to rectify that fact on the double.

  "Play," he commanded, slipping into Dom mode as he tugged her earlobe between his teeth.

  His hands roamed up to her breasts and pushed the material aside until the heavy globes were in his hands. Rolling her nipples, he played with the dusky points. She moaned and her head fell back against his chest. He smiled into her hair.

  "Play, or I will stop." He bit her shoulder.

  She yelped, placed her hands on the ivory keys, and fumbled with the notes.

  His plan was firmly made; while she played the piano, he would play her body, and see what kind of music they could make.

  *****

  Delilah's hands stumbled over the white keys and need coursed through her body as Bastian tugged on her nipples. She couldn't even focus on the keyboard. When he stilled his hands, rumbling in her ear about her failure to do as he asked, she shook her head and attempted to concentrate.

  She wouldn't be able to sing. There was no way. Not when his hands were driving her insane, but she did her best with the melody. As the notes filled the conservatory one of his hands traveled down to her thighs, teasing her flesh, and she shuddered. When his hand pushed her suit aside, exposing her sex, and his fingers stroked over her slit, she garbled the next set of chords.

  Her eyes closed as he spread her thighs further apart, granting him full access to her sex, and his fingers rubbed over her labia. Bastian parted her folds, already dripping with moisture. Every time she played a new note or chord, he augmented the torment of his fingers, swirling, stroking, and teasing her clit so that her melody became unrecognizable.

  He pressed two fingers inside her tight sheath and she couldn't stop the moan as her hands blindly played. He stroked her in time with the melody, like he was a metronome keeping her on track. She tried to focus on the notes. She really did. But holy moly was he making it difficult for her.

  He pushed her forward on his lap slightly. He withdrew his hands from her breasts and pussy. Delilah whimpered at the loss. At the distinct sound of him undoing his zipper and a foil packet ripping, she panted.

  He was going to fuck her right here at the piano while she played. Here, surrounded by wedding decorations and finery, where anyone could walk in and discover them. She whimpered at the thought. She'd never done anything so erotic in her life.

  And then he lifted her hips as he fit the firm head of his cock at her entrance. She loved the feel of him. How he teased her with the promise of his thick length, and the heady anticipation of knowing that he could send her into the solar system with his loving. Bastian's hands gripped her hips, guiding her down over his cock until her sheath enveloped him fully.

  Her body stretched to accommodate him from this angle. The sensation made her nearly delirious as he starting rocking inside her. Pleasure overrode her system, at the feel of him sliding in and out, even in the slow controlled manner meant to torture her.

  "Ohhh," she cried, her hands slamming against the keys in a dissident tangle.

  She wanted to move, to increase the rhythm of their lovemaking, but he kept her prisoner with his hands. He was in control. He was proving his dominance and mastery over her body with their performance. Delilah bowed her head forward, unable to stall the string of mewls as his cock rubbed against the nerve endings of her g-spot.

  "Keep playing. I'll take care of the rest."

  The utter surety and command in his voice demanded her compliance. His control brooked no quarter, no way for her to achieve sweet release unless she let go and depended upon him entirely. After everything she'd experienced with him so far, this moment, this lovemaking seemed to push her further than she'd ever allowed herself to go. As long as she had been in the lifestyle she'd never fully ceded control, not really, as she'd always held a part of herself back. Even with Ethan, as much control as she'd granted him, there'd been a fragment she'd kept.

  Bastian overwhelmed in every facet. The last little piece of her soul she'd retained shook loose as he moved her hips over his length. Gripping the piano keys, Delilah did something she never had before. She surrendered completely, giving her body, her heart, and even her soul over to his capable hands.

  Bastian seemed to notice how she melted under his deft touch as he gripped her hips, shuttling her body up and down over his cock. The greedy pull of her pussy clasped at his thick length as he measured his strokes in time with her playing, attempting to pull him deeper and keep him inside her. Over and over he lifted her, raised her, the plus-sized girl, up and down over his length. Penetrating further into her depths with every stroke without qualm. There were no 'you are crushing me with your weight' comments being voiced, no 'your belly is making it difficult to stay hard' snarky remarks to shred her soul.

  Delilah felt like with eac
h measured thrust, as he brought her down over his cock, her heart expanded and opened like an unfurling flower a little more, allowing him inside. She was consumed by his strength, his devotion, and his care of her. Her focus wavered on the keys as her pleasure increased to the point where she had no idea what notes she played.

  The orgasm came out of left field and shattered whatever composure remained until she was a trembling, quivering mass in his arms. He snarled as he pumped his hips faster, his cock jerking inside her grasping sheath as he came. She held on to the keyboard and rode his climax with a further smattering of her own.

  When he withdrew, she whimpered a bit, not ready to leave the warm embrace of his arms just yet.

  Her legs wobbled as he set her on her feet.

  "I'm not done with you tonight, love, not by a long shot. I just want to move the location, otherwise they'll find us in here come morning, since it's likely neither of us will have the strength to walk when we're finished."

  "Oh." Her voice came out in a whisper, lust slamming her system, as he zipped up his pants, covering his thick member still encased in a condom.

  Bastian cleaned up the piano bench with her robe, tossed it over his shoulder, and helped her readjust the suit on her form. Then he guided her out of the conservatory and up to his room, where he made good on his promises to love her until she had no more strength left.

  Chapter Twelve

  Delilah joined the orchestral group in the conservatory at their prearranged meeting time an hour before the wedding. She'd chosen a simple, elegant, black, floor-length empire waist gown. The V-neck bust shimmered with black metallic beading, and she'd added a pearl choker and matching earrings.

  Amaya stood, tuning the strings of her violin as Olivia and Ian made sure everyone's music stands were evenly spaced. Elizabeth and Solomon were sending each other scathing glances, making Delilah wonder for the hundredth time what had happened between them.

  Chase was present, double checking all the lights and ensuring his design was flawless. He had created an absolute dream. She'd been correct when she'd compared it to a Midsummer Night's Dream, as he dimmed the overhead lights which made the small golden lights appear like they were fireflies and starlight. There were a few last minute workmen, in tuxes no less, organizing chairs and helping Chase with any final arrangements.

  Hunter and Jesse strode in, looking dapper in their tuxedoes. There was a reason Hunter Clarke was so popular in Hollywood, and it wasn't his acting. While he was a master at his craft, his looks put him over the top. Everything about him, from his golden hair to his wide shoulders and long legs, and the sensual curve of his lips, made him one of the hottest men alive. Jesse wasn't far behind him in the looks department, but for some reason Delilah had always felt a familial brotherly bond with him.

  Hunter addressed Solomon. "We're about to open the doors, unless you have any objections?"

  "None. We're ready."

  "Chase, you good?" Hunter asked.

  Chase lit the last of the lights and nodded. "Let them in."

  Delilah took her seat. For most of the ceremony, she was nothing more than an observer and interloper, even though last night, Zoey and her friends had certainly made her feel welcome. Wedding guests began streaming inside as Hunter and Jesse opened the double doors.

  Delilah plastered a gentle smile on her face as she recognized some of the press people taking a seat in the audience. She knew some of the guests coming in were Declan's business colleagues, as well.

  Solomon gave a little intro as a signal to the rest of the group as they began playing the pre-ceremony numbers. From Delilah's vantage point, she was able to watch the interaction of everyone in the audience. It was one of the things she liked about performing; witnessing some of the personalities she came across.

  When Bastian and his band strode in wearing suits, Delilah had to stop herself from making a sound. He was so freaking gorgeous. His tall frame was encased in a slick, dark gray suit with a forest green dress shirt and tie. He had no trouble finding her, his gaze all but caressing her as he sat in the third row. One look at him and she couldn't help but remember the previous night. The fact that they'd had sex not fifteen feet from where she sat.

  And from his gaze she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that that was exactly what was on his mind as well as he stared at her. Delilah had to keep herself from fanning her face as she felt the blush spread up her neck and into her cheeks.

  Delilah attempted, rather poorly, to observe every other wedding guest who made an appearance. The wedding photographer, Piper Delaney, snapped photos of guests as they entered. Tyler, in his navy dress suit, and Elise, in a strapless, pale coral, diaphanous chiffon number, looked as pretty as a postcard as he led her up to the front. Veronica entered wearing an indigo A-line gown that fell to her knees, and looking like she would rather be anywhere else, she actually snubbed Hunter's outstretched arm and found a seat without his aid.

  Chase and Kara stood at the back of the room. Kara's petite frame, in a fitted black cocktail dress, hummed with nervous excitement. She reminded Delilah of conductors and directors before a performance.

  Declan strode in, greeting guests as he swaggered to the front. Jared was his best man and followed shortly behind him, looking uncharacteristically stoic in his tux. And then Tobias brought up the rear of the groomsmen with a mile-wide grin on his handsome face. In all the years she'd known Tobias, he'd never appeared happier. The pastor from the nearby village, Hank Cameron, a rather lanky fellow of indeterminate middle age, took up his position on the dais with the men.

  Kara gave a signal to the orchestra that the ceremony was about to begin. The quintet ended the pre-ceremony loop with Moonlight Sonata, and the first strains from Claire de Lune sounded in the room. Kara nodded toward the doors and Lucy glided in looking like an Amazonian queen. The frosted ice, form-fitting blue gown fit her figure to perfection. Tobias met her midway down the aisle, escorting her to the front. And then Ophelia glided in and met Jared midway.

  Then the audience stood as Zoey appeared in the doorway. There was a collective sigh at the striking picture she made. Her dress was stunning; the bodice shimmered and flashed as she all but floated down the aisle toward Declan and her future. A sheen of moisture entered Delilah's eyes at witnessing the sublime happiness on Zoey and Declan's faces as he met her before the dais.

  The pastor's rather monotone voice filled the conservatory as he spoke of love and commitment. And Delilah couldn't help but glance at Bastian, wondering if she should make that leap, accept his cuffs like he wanted her to do. When it came time for Zoey and Declan to light the unity candle, Delilah rose from her seat. When she glanced at Solomon, he played the introduction with Amaya and then Delilah joined them, her voice filling the conservatory as she sang the Ave Maria. She infused her voice with everything she felt for Bastian, everything he made her feel.

  Life was strange. She'd come to Scotland, to this wedding, with the intentions of helping a friend, and hiding her battered heart under lock and key. Who would have guessed that in the process she would have found someone who made her feel more alive than she'd ever felt before? As if before Bastian had rocketed into her orbit, her life had been a dull, cardboard existence, where all she'd been doing was playing at game of life.

  There was barely a dry eye remaining as her voice rang with the final note of the Ave Maria. Except it was the scorching expression on Bastian's face that stood out for her the most. Her legs trembled as she regained her seat.

  When the vows had been spoken and he had finished his sermon, the pastor then addressed the audience with a beaming grin.

  "May I present to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Declan McDougal. Declan, you may kiss your bride."

  Before the assembled crowd, Declan gently cupped Zoey's face between his hands and kissed her senseless. The audience clapped, with a few whistles and hollers mixed in before he ended the kiss. Their happiness was like a blinding beacon of light as they left the dais ha
nd in hand. The wedding photographer, Piper, captured their progression.

  Delilah graciously accepted praise for her performance as she departed the conservatory looking for Bastian. Wedding guests made the stroll from the conservatory to the ballroom down a corridor that had been decorated to appear like it was an enchanted forest out of some Greek myth. The design spilled over into the ballroom, where wait staff were already zooming about the place with silver trays weighted with appetizers. She knew Zeke was in the kitchen overseeing every part of the reception meal.

  Delilah had been assigned to a table with the rest of the orchestra, and allowed the wait staff assigned to deliver guests to their seats to take her to her spot. It put her on the edge of the dance floor, with a direct line of sight to the stage. Bastian was already there, playing some instrumental numbers as guests filtered in and took their seats.

  As much as she tried to pay attention to the discussion Solomon had started about the merits of some conductors, Delilah only had eyes—and ears, for that matter—for Bastian. The man played guitar with a single-minded focus that reminded her of much more intimate moments. He wore the same expression when he was buried deep inside her.

  He caught her not only watching him, but fanning herself with her napkin. The sexy grin he shot her made her bones all but turn to mush. She had it bad for him. More than she'd admitted to herself. There was a part of her that wanted with every fiber of her being to wear his cuffs, not just for a night, but for the rest of her life. And it terrified the living daylights out of her.