The Dani Collins Erotic Romance Collection: Mastering Her RolePlaying the Master

by Dani Collins

  Ten minutes and still nothing. She looked at the hook above her head, tested the strength and figured out in her mind how she might unfasten it, but considered whether she wanted a spanking or not.

  Whether she wanted to bolt or not.

  No. She had known Jason had eccentric tastes when she’d started this. This was one of them, and she was determined to prove she was every bit a match for his level of sexuality.

  Fifteen minutes. Bastard. Her hands were numbing and her skin growing cold enough to be uncomfortable. The shoes hurt. Playing with the clasp, she opened it, but as she almost had herself unhooked, a click at the door sounded.

  She quit trying to free herself and stiffened, watching the door open.

  A man entered, but he wasn’t Jason. Nor was he Dominic. The blond goatee was gone, as was the mask, replaced by dark sunglasses and a pencil-thin reddish brown moustache. His hair and sideburns were a deep auburn. He wore a grayish-silver suit, shiny despite the low light. The shirt beneath was navy or black, she couldn’t tell.

  Her heart kicked into a rapid beat as he approached and looked her up and down from behind his mirrored glasses, releasing a slow whistle of appreciation. She studied his hand as he reached out to grasp her forearm and tug, testing the hold of the cuffs.

  She knew those hands.

  “I was expecting someone else,” she said. “Are we sure the secret word isn’t chicken liver?”

  He turned his full attention on her in a way that was incredibly intimidating. His fist closed in her hair, dragging slowly enough that she was able to follow the movement and avoid true pain for low-grade discomfort and a strain in her neck, but the threat of aggression was so real her heart fluttered in fear.

  “Silencio, querida.” He breathed the scent of cigar across her parted lips. Jason never smoked.

  Denver danced through her mind. She searched his face, seeking the tells that would reassure her. His mouth. The faint bump on his nose. The ear glinting with a diamond.

  He made a satisfied noise at her wordless shock and stroked his hand down her arm, following her rib cage forward and cupping one breast in a hard, splayed hand.

  “Nice,” he said with a hint of a Spanish accent. Releasing her hair, he turned her slightly so he could grasp the swaying globes of her breasts in each hand. He pushed them together, pinching her nipples as he did.

  She gasped and stiffened at the jolt of pleasure-pain, surprised and sinfully excited, yet startled enough to flinch at the same time. Dominic had never been so rough. Jason wouldn’t even consider it. Would he?

  He chuckled, his cigar-flavored breath washing over her cheek. Letting go, he reached inside his suit jacket and removed a fat billfold. Opening what appeared to be a stack of hundreds, he fanned out four and threw them on the bed. “I like those tits.”

  The idea of buying you as my personal sex slave? You’d better believe it excites me.

  This was her hooker fantasy. Their fantasy. He wasn’t selfish. This was for her pleasure and excitement as much as his.

  Her eyes grew wet and she tried to look into his eyes, but he walked around behind her, taking his time, coming back and throwing a few more bills on the bed, murmuring, “Bonita.”

  Looking down at her shoes, he nudged one with the toe of his shoe. “Open.”

  She swallowed, feeling boneless with relief and delight and nervous laughter. And determination to make it good for him. She lifted one foot, planting it a ways from the other, both self-conscious and excited by how much of herself she exposed.

  “Takes orders,” he mused with a dirty chuckle and licked his thumb to count off three more bills.

  Every time a bill landed on the black sheet, a thrill pulsed into her dampening pussy.

  He reached out to jerk at the beaded belt, yanking the dangling beads aside to reveal her naked mound. He chuckled with surprised pleasure. Five more bills went onto the mattress.

  “You’re proud of this cunt, aren’t you? She likes to fuck?” He covered her mound with a firm, flat hand and pushed his middle finger into her wet heat, abrupt and unmindful that she wasn’t quite ready.

  With a gasp, she instinctively writhed to escape, but he followed her, testing her depths with little pumps of his finger, rocking his hand.

  Against her will, a whimper of pleasure escaped her. She closed her pussy muscles on his invading finger even as he withdrew it.

  “Hungry. You like to be fucked a lot,” he said in his sultry accent, smug. Ten one-hundred-dollar bills topped the growing stack.

  With the hand that smelled of money and her own sex, he brushed her hair back from her face, tilted up her chin so she stared into her own reflection in his mirrored glasses, and pushed his damp finger into her mouth with the same ownership he’d shown her pussy a moment ago.

  Instinctively, Arianne closed her lips around the tangy tip and sucked.

  He smiled, slowly extricating his finger and drawing a wet path down her neck. “Linda,” he said, and counted off five more bills. “So pretty,” he murmured, circling her again.

  She moved restlessly, desperate to lower her aching arms, not liking it when she couldn’t see him.

  A warm hand stroked down her one leg, all the way to her ankle, then crept back up to the back of her knee. “Up,” he said, and she let him lift her leg, turn her and brace her knee on the bed with her back to him, one leg still on the floor, her ass cheeks open.

  He made a sound of pleasure and fingered her backdoor.

  “No!” she blurted. She was still tender from yesterday and, honestly, did he really think she could even take a finger there right now?

  “How much to fuck you here?” He kept her in the same position, but reached around to show her five hundred dollars.

  “No,” she said sternly.

  He showed her a thousand.

  “No,” she insisted.

  He slapped her ass hard, making her cry out in surprise and pain. Walking around in front of her, he showed her the thousand again, then deliberately folded it and put it away in his pocket.

  “Understand?” he said with cold arrogance, then walked behind her to slide his hand under her and finger her pussy.

  She gasped and opened her hands to grasp the bedpost and stabilize herself.

  “Ah, she doesn’t say no to this, does she?” He slid his finger in and out of her until she clasped at his fingertip with her pussy muscles.

  With a grunt, he removed his hand and she felt his knuckles brush her ass cheeks. The jangle of a belt buckle releasing came to her ears, then the sound of a zipper sliding open. Bracing herself, she waited, but he took his time. She glanced back to see him apply a condom to a dick she might have recognized if she’d been given a better opportunity to see it.

  He pushed into her with rough deliberation, the condom creating a friction that made her flinch. “Like that?” He pushed all the way in.

  “Yes,” she moaned, unable to do anything but hold still for his firm thrusts. He’d never fucked her from behind before. The position lacked the stimulation of her clit, working only her pussy walls. “Please,” she begged. “Please rub my clit.”

  He withdrew and gave her ass another firm slap. “Don’t talk.”

  She gasped, not hurt so much as surprised. Disappointed. Sexually frustrated.

  He reached above her and unclipped her cuffs. She moaned in relief as her arms relaxed down, all the way down. He continued to lower the chain and lifted a foot, stepping on it so she was dragged all the way to the floor, pinned on all fours.

  After a moment of letting her crane her neck to try to see him, he knelt in front of her. His condom-cloaked prick nudged a wet path against her cheek.

  Arianne stared at his black manscaped pubes as he let his damp dick tap her face until he guided the coated tip between her lips.

  She preferred doing this bareback, she decided as he thrust into her mouth. She didn’t have the same amount of power to drive him crazy when he wore a condom, and she couldn’t taste him a
t all. This patronizing Spaniard was Jason/Dominic, she knew it was, but this edgy side of him was new and she found that incredibly exciting. She wanted to see how far she could push him.

  Despite the condom, he seemed to enjoy fucking her mouth, thrusting again and again, much longer than Dominic had lasted the first time she’d done this, but she wasn’t using her hands and he wasn’t coming off days of frustration.

  Still, with the limited freedom afforded her, she did what she could to make it good for him, mostly because she wanted him to lose control. He might be getting off on having all the power here, but she had some and intended to use it.

  Just when she thought she might have him on the brink, however, he pulled away. Standing on the chain again, he kept her on the floor and dropped a few bills beside her fingers. “That was nice.”

  She ignored the money and looked up at him, licking her lips, inviting him to finish.

  He chuckled. “You want to make me come, don’ch you?”

  She smiled. “Take off the condom,” she invited.

  He hesitated and when he rolled it off and discarded the empty sheath on the floor, she glowed with anticipation. He stepped back, freeing her to come up on her knees, then motioned her to stand.

  Tugging her cuffs, he forced her onto the bed on her stomach while he circled to stand at the foot. She watched him open the chain and loop it through the uprights on the foot of the bed.

  Leaning forward to suck him from here wasn’t going to be the most comfortable position, but the bed was softer on her knees than the floor, so she smiled a thank-you for his thoughtful gesture.

  He only gave her a quirky smile of his own and jerked off his suit jacket, then shed his slacks, revealing a lack of underwear. A second later, he was naked but for his mirrored aviators. He moved onto the bed. She heard a drawer open and close, and something small landed beside her, but she couldn’t see what it was.

  She thought he might fuck her from behind again, or maybe use a dildo. Her pussy flooded with heated excitement. Holding her breath, she moaned a little as he took her hips in his hands.

  He rolled her onto her back, stretching her out flat beneath him, diagonal on the bed.

  She lifted her knees in invitation for him to climb between her thighs, her pussy longing for penetration. Yearning to come and come hard.

  “I’m not paying to make you come, señorita,” he said, and knelt in a straddle over her torso. Cupping her breasts, he flicked at her nipples with his thumbs the way he’d done when he had first walked in. His hard cock settled heavy and thick on the crease between the mounds while he manipulated her nipples, stoking the fire already blazing in her pussy.

  She moaned, needing his cock in her cunt. Badly.

  He chuckled as if he knew exactly what she wanted and released her breasts so they relaxed outward, but they continued to feel swollen and tender. Then he reached for whatever he’d dropped on the bed—a tube of something. Squeezing gel onto her breastbone, he massaged the cold lubricant outward until he crowned both nipples, then he lowered his weight on her, centered his cock and cupped her tits up, creating a slick pocket of flesh. As he began to thrust, he pinched her nipples in the V between his fingers. The hair of his scrotum scratched along the valley in her chest, and her pussy knew what it was missing and sobbed with frustration.

  “Please,” she moaned, twisting but unable to move, cuffed at the hands and held motionless by his muscled legs. The beads of her loincloth fell across her lips once, but it was all the attention her pussy saw as his grip hardened and his cock swelled and his hot come spilled onto her neck.

  Chapter Eleven

  He seemed to like the look of her wearing a necklace of his spunk. He hung suspended over her for long seconds, chest bellowing, cock spent. His hands massaged with idle caresses as the cream cooled and slid along her collarbone and dripped into her hair.

  With a satisfied curl to his lip, he climbed off her and used a corner of the sheet to swipe most of it away. Then he meandered around the room apparently looking for something, finally finding his suit jacket. He withdrew a cigar.

  He rolled it without urgency between his palms, coming back to look at her sprawled on the bed.

  She couldn’t tell which part of her he stared at most intently, because his eyes were hidden. All she knew was that he’d satisfied himself and left her in a state of heat. She gave her cuffs a little tug that scraped them on the wooden upright and dug her heels into the sheet in protest.

  He smiled and reached out to pinch her pouting labia, so swollen the rough handling created a sharp ecstasy that made her gasp.

  “Want some attention?” he asked.

  Mad, she looked right into his flat glasses and said, “It’ll cost you another three if you want to lick me out.”

  He snorted at her impudence, tossed the unlit cigar onto the pillow at the head of the bed and climbed onto the mattress beside her.

  Oh. She’d provoked a lazy tiger here. Wide-eyed, she instinctively tried to roll away.

  “Oh, no, pobrecita,” he muttered, hauling her back and forcing her into a position where she was braced on her forearms and knees, her ass in the air. Pinning her one leg with the pinch of his own, he pushed one hand under her, his fingertips ruthlessly dividing her lips and plunging into the dripping core of her.

  “Three, you say?” He worked her entrance until three hard fingertips were firmly lodged there, holding her open without providing any of the lengthy penetrating pressure she ached for in her depths.

  “One!” He slapped her ass with his other hand. The movement drove his fingers a fraction deeper, making her cry out in sharp surprise. “Two!” Another spank stung her other cheek. “Three!” The final one ended in a caress of the skin he’d heated to a sensitive flush.

  Silently she processed the sensation, the burn on her ass and the sheer badness of what they were doing. A near madness held her in its clench as her pussy suffered the stimulation of being stretched without being properly fucked.

  “Now how much to lick you out?” he taunted.

  She was so close, yet so far away from what she needed. Curling her fists around the chain that bound her wrists, she said, “Five hundred,” then bit her lip because if he tried to work the rest of his hand into her…

  He didn’t. He only commenced the short, sharp spanks that inflamed her pussy so she moaned and squeezed and grew wetter and wetter on his tightly fluted fingertips.

  She panted when he finished, not wanting more of those painful spanks but wanting the shooting pleasure of being driven onto his hand.

  “How much?” he asked in a gritty voice.

  Pushing her forehead into the bed, she moaned, “Nine hundred,” certain that would put her over the edge.

  He tanned her ass with a slow patience that had her bracing for long seconds between each, trying to hump his hand, moaning and biting back any more words that would prolong this torture.

  “Nine,” he said, and still she hadn’t come. “How much?” he asked in a dangerous voice.

  She bit her lip, unwilling to take any more of those slaps on her hot, hot cheeks, almost crying with sexual frustration because she was so close to coming and the bastard was still managing to hold her on the edge.

  “How much?” he asked again, daring her to speak.

  She kept her face buried between her forearms, shaking her head, swallowing back moans of frustration.

  His fingers slid free of her and she sucked in a breath of pained loss.

  “You be quiet now,” he muttered, jerking her around on the bed. “I decide what you’re worth.”

  She nodded, not certain what he was trying to do as he brought her knees right to the edge of the mattress but kept her on the bed, her arms stretched straight in front of her, face in the sheets.

  “Say nothing,” he warned. “No noise.”

  She lifted her head to see him drop a pillow on the floor behind the edge of the bed where her knees now balanced. Hard hands bit into the backs
of her thighs and he pushed her wide, exposing her as he lowered to the floor behind her. His first lick made her gasp.

  “Uh-uh,” he warned, pulling away and tightening his hands behind her knees in a grip that was likely to leave bruises. “You want me to stop?”

  Biting her lip, holding her breath, she violently rubbed her face in the sheet, shaking her head.

  He grunted a displeasured sound and licked her again, making her flinch at how good it was, at how hard it was not to groan.

  Wrapping her palms around the chains, she grasped them tightly and clenched her eyes shut as she felt his tongue delve along the furrow of her lips, tickling the swollen membranes into flowering open.

  Her clit—she silently begged him to flick her clit. It would only take a light nudge with the tip of his tongue, but the bastard teased her, licking into her, lapping along her open cleft, nibbling and using his hands to spread her further and further so her clit felt so heavy and swollen she was sure it would fall right off her body.

  He blew on it, hot and gentle, and she bit the sheet beneath her, damn near smothering herself as she waited for the magic touch, the first grazing slurp, arching and arching to beg the hot engulfing of his parted lips. Still he toyed, letting the slick juices gather, using his fingers to rub the wetness into the straining cords at the tops of her thighs, biting at her still-tender ass cheeks, then softly kissing her clit, just once.

  She coiled, every muscle straining, and waited. Fighting to stay silent.

  He waited, letting her tremble.

  When she made no sound, he swirled his tongue around her clit and claimed it, opening his mouth on it and sucking, pulling her into the maw of pure ecstasy. Orgasm flooded up and crashed over her in a screaming gush.

  * * *

  She’d made a fair amount of noise right at the end there, she realized, returning from the seizure of climax. She didn’t care. He could spank the hell out of her. That orgasm had been worth it.

  “Shut up,” he said, and she realized she was still breathing in ragged moans. She was collapsed on her side, arms still bound, and he was circling the end of the bed, finding his slacks. “You’re going to make people come.”