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

by Dani Collins

  Ann meshed her fingers in a type of prayer and leaned her elbows on her knees, thumbs against her mouth where she bit her lip. Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t want to see him yet. I need money first.” Resources of some kind. Independence.

  Sitting back, Eloisa’s demeanor cooled considerably. “You expect me to offer you to him for a price?”

  Ann gave her an exasperated look. “Quit being so possessive. We’ve both lost him by lying to him. No, that’s not what I’m asking from you. I want you to be the businesswoman you are and offer my virginity to the man who will gain us the best profit for it.”

  A huff of disbelief escaped Eloisa before a faint smile, patronizing and sour, thinned her smudged lips. “He would kill me if I let anyone have you but him.”

  “It’s between you and Porter if you ever tell him. I need money and I’m selling the only thing I have.” It was the absolute truth and part of her knew it was crazy and wrong, but there was something incredibly empowering about making a choice that was hers alone to make.

  “Your virginity.” Eloisa sobered, taking on a more considering demeanor. “I don’t have an auction scheduled for weeks, but we could do a private mailing to some of my wealthiest clients. It would require photographs.”

  “Fine.”

  “You’re sure about this?” Eloisa asked, the dip of her chin and the sternness in her arched brows surprisingly matronly. “I will help you regardless, Ann. You don’t have to sell yourself.”

  “Leaning on you does not teach me to stand on my own, does it?”

  Eloisa let that statement hang in the air a long moment, then said, “Let’s clean you up for the studio, then.”

  * * *

  Porter was ready to crawl out of his own skin. He didn’t bother sitting when he arrived in the loft and the second Eloisa appeared, he took her elbow in his tight grip.

  “Take me to her.”

  “I didn’t say she was here, Porter. I said if you wanted to see her—” She caught her breath as he exerted pressure. “Of course, I can always have you removed if you can’t find your manners.”

  He forced himself to release her. “Tell me why I’m here then.”

  “Easier to show you, mon bijou. Come.” She led him to an intake room, where a pair of comfortable chairs was arranged in front of a desk with a computer. This was where new members were interviewed, scenes were preplanned and other business conducted.

  Eloisa clicked on a projector and Violet’s lingerie-clad figure appeared. She knelt with her bare legs parted, her purple lace thong barely covering her mound. Her lace bra pushed her breasts into pale moons rising over an indigo line. A silk wrap in matching purple fell off her shoulders and a curling tendril of her dark hair scooped forward like a broken collar in front of her neck.

  She was sexy as hell, especially her expression with her smoky eyes looking right into his soul, shiny pink bottom lip caught in her teeth as though she was about to say, Fuck me.

  He was so entranced by her, he forgot Eloisa was in the room until she said, “She’s turned into quite a bidding war. I thought you’d like to be included.”

  Snapping his head around to her steady smile, he asked, “Exactly how much hell do you want raining down on you?”

  “Step out of your own interests, Porter. This is something I’m doing for her, not to her. She came to me. I’m providing a service and collecting a commission.”

  She clicked the projector and a second photo appeared. The wrap was gone and a bra strap had fallen. Violet lifted her breast out of one cup and attempted to bring her nipple to her tongue.

  His gut knotted with excitement and intense possessiveness. “She’s mine,” he growled. “No one else sees these.”

  “She belongs to herself,” Eloisa contradicted. “As do these photos. That’s why it’s private-viewing only, rather than sending them out via email. Also, she wants to hurry the process so it made sense to only show them to the clients in town for the weekend. This has been an extremely well-received shot.”

  The projector clicked and Violet was squatting in heels, distended nipple still exposed, one hand pulling her thong aside between widespread knees. With her other hand she formed a V with two fingers, holding her pussy lips open to expose pink inner lips and her delightfully responsive clit.

  “One of my female clients went wild for this one,” Eloisa said, clicking to the next.

  Violet appeared on her side, panties tangled around her shoes, bent legs open. She spread herself again and was about to insert a deep-red dildo.

  “Female,” he repeated, trembling with territorial jealousy.

  “Mmm. You’ll want a copy of her limits.” She handed him a piece of paper and pointed with the projector remote. “Fellatio and/or cunnilingus.”

  He scanned. No anal fucking, digits okay. No whips, but light spanking allowed. Bondage in non-stress positions. Domination without pain or humiliation. No body fluids.

  “Blindfold mandatory?”

  “She doesn’t want to know who it is. No talking except in whispers. Last one.”

  Violet appeared naked on her stomach, half twisted to expose her tit, knee crooked up high to reveal her asshole and rosy, wet slit.

  It was the most provocative pose yet, not for her position, but for the expression on her face. She was flushed with desire and wearing a secretive smile. She loved showing herself off.

  He realized the pressure on both sides of his skull was his hands trying to keep his head from exploding. “Tell me you’re fucking with me. Both of you.”

  Eloisa clicked off the image so they were lit only by the white screen.

  “I procure certain fantasies for my clients. Buying a virgin is always a popular one, you know that. Violet was my creation, but this is Ann’s decision. Even if she comes to regret this, you know it would be wrong to deny her the right to make this choice.”

  He drilled holes in her with his eyes, not buying what she was selling.

  She shrugged, not intimidated. “If you don’t like the idea of someone else having her, put in a bid. We’re not entertaining anything less than five figures.”

  * * *

  Ann waited in the room Eloisa had brought her to. It wasn’t The Stage, but that’s what she’d been reminded of before her blindfold had been firmly fastened. The room had a four-poster bed which she stood at the foot of, a velvet bench with what she now knew were bondage cuffs on the legs, a wardrobe full of toys, one of the armless divans that seemed so versatile when it came to playing out a scene, a side table by the bed, cuffs on the wall, and a discreet washbasin in the corner.

  The room wasn’t too hot or cold, but she kept flushing and chilling, one minute feeling the weight of the light-silk robe she wore, the next wanting to hug a blanket around herself. This was such a gamble.

  She had reasoned, however, that if Porter didn’t want her, she needed to get over him. Giving herself to a stranger should do it, as well as setting her up for the future she sought. If Porter did buy her for the night…

  A nervous churning in her belly made her shiver again.

  She didn’t know what it would mean. From her perspective, she would have been sold to him regardless. By doing things this way, she controlled everything about the exchange except the details of the next few hours. From his side, why would he want her? Yes, they were sexually compatible, but enough that he’d pay for the privilege of having her?

  Once?

  The door clicked and she heard the noise she’d become familiar with when a card was inserted into the device beside the door.

  The roiling in her stomach increased and she tried to work up the courage to release the rail at the foot of the bed, but the footsteps walked up behind her, making her hands clench nervously.

  Porter’s scent wrapped around her even as his strong hands took her upper arms and the hardness of his forehead came to rest against her crown. A shaken breath disturbed her hair, heavy enough to penetrate its thick, loose fall and make the tiny hairs
on the back of her neck lift in reaction. The tingling sensation trickled down her chest, tightening her breasts and drawing her nipples into aching buds.

  She tried not to wilt in relief, but her eyes stung and dampness leaked against her closed lashes behind the blindfold.

  “If you ever do anything so dangerous again—”

  She flinched at the hardness in his voice.

  The weight of his head lifted off hers, but he kept his grip firm on her arms. “Yes, I know I’m supposed to whisper, but you’ll have to use your safe word and stop the scene if you don’t like my tone.”

  A brief pause seemed to give her the opportunity to do so, but she only bit her lips into a stubborn line, lifting her chin a fraction. Fine, let him talk however he wanted. Maybe that meant she knew who it was, but she wasn’t about to stop the scene and lose everything she was trying to gain.

  “No?” he challenged. “Because I’d like to talk.” His hands massaged up and down her arms, thumbs digging into sensitive muscles, kind of soothing, but kind of inciting at the same time. “This is your chance, Ann.”

  His use of her name was oddly moving. She softened a fraction, leaning into his touch a little.

  “I shouldn’t have dismissed what you said about how furious he’d be,” he admitted gruffly. “I accept that you’re angry with me for not realizing what kind of danger I was putting you in.” His hands stilled and tightened marginally. “But if you think I’m here to grovel, you’re wrong. I’m angry. You lied to me. You fucked up my plans and you scared the hell out of me. Now you’re doing this? Say your word and let’s talk this out.”

  Her insides quivered at the arctic chill in his threat, the remains of scaredy-cat Ann fearful of his tone and wanting to shrink and abide. She couldn’t submit, though. Not in that way. The resource they were fighting over here was her autonomy. This was her body. She could do what she wanted with it.

  “You think I don’t know what kind of battle of wills you’re trying to engage me in? I’m a Master Dominant at a dozen BDSM clubs.” He released her arm to take a handful of her hair and drag her head back so her throat was exposed. He continued speaking in a rasp next to her ear. “I’m here in this room because I don’t lose to anyone, not to lust-driven tycoons who would pay a fortune to fuck a virgin and especially not when I have a personal score to settle. So if you think I’ll be the one to call quits when you’ve thrown down a glove, you’re wrong.”

  Had she been issuing a challenge to him when she’d decided to sell herself this way?

  Perhaps, she admitted with silent guilt. Fighting Cain had never been a safe option, but with Porter she’d gradually found her inner strength and begun to flex it. Part of her wanted to engage him in a duel, she realized. Which was crazy. He’d just pointed out that he didn’t lose.

  But she really wanted to know how far she could let herself go when fighting him.

  “Of course, one doesn’t become a Master by brutalizing a partner,” he said with a more tender murmur as he shifted his grip in her hair to a gentle massage. His other hand caressed her throat. “It’s about providing the experience being sought. You, my dear, should be paying me.”

  He drifted his hand into the front of her robe, loosening it as he fondled her breast. They both made a low noise of pleasure as he found her distended nipple and lightly pinched and rubbed.

  She relaxed, thinking, this will be okay.

  “First things first,” he said, shifting his hands to open her robe and peel it down her arms.

  She had to let go of the bed frame to let him remove it and felt strangely bereft as she turned to face him, aware she stood there nude in a pair of silver slave heels, lace panties and a blindfold.

  “I’ll be listening for your safe word, Ann-Violet. I’ll be watching for cues that you’re uncomfortable, trying to take you right to the edge of your limits without pushing you to say it. That’s my personal challenge, the point where my pride lives. You might have walked in here determined not to break, but I don’t want to break you. Just see how far you bend.”

  That almost sounded like a smile in his voice, but a wicked one.

  He looped something satiny and cool over her wrist and pulled it tight, then caught the other one in an equally quick, tight lasso, bringing her wrists together, palms and fingers aligned. She was so busy trying to identify it—the belt from her robe?—that he had her tied before she realized what he was doing.

  She tested the binding way too late.

  “There are a few reasons I did that,” he told her. “I’ll explain after I kiss you, ‘cause I’m tired of waiting—”

  He lifted her tied wrists to hook behind his neck and captured her mouth in a hard kiss that weakened her knees. Their hips collided, she felt how aroused he was, and wriggled into him, wishing he would grab her butt, but he only smoothed hot hands over her naked back, the whisper of his palms against her skin, shifting her hair so it slithered on her naked skin, sweet as his touch. As he swept her mouth with his tongue, claiming and making her hyperaware of how aroused she already was, she moaned.

  “There’s this,” he said when he drew back, hands heavy on her forearms. He didn’t have to exert any pressure at all and she was trapped before him. “Especially because having your arms up like this lifts your tits. So pretty.” He traced the outer swells of both with the backs of his fingers. “Binding you is also a gentle, non-painful reminder that you’ve given your body over to me, too. Each time you go to scratch an itch, you’ll remember that I own you for the next few hours. Do you find that erotic?” He kissed her once more, this one a light touch of his lips before he drew her arms off his neck and down.

  “There’s one other reason,” he said, threading one arm through hers and around her rib cage, then bent to scoop his other around her thighs. As he hefted her, he explained, “You split my eyebrow the last time I did this.”

  “Nooo!” she screamed as he carried her a few steps and sat down on the bed, expertly pinning her across his lap, tied hands pinned under her chest as he held her in place for a spanking.

  “We’re talking then?”

  She scowled into the quilt and angrily wiggled, trying to kick her feet.

  “You checked the box,” he reasoned. “I’ve paid for this. In gray fucking hairs,” he added grimly. “So settle in and take this gracefully.”

  Oh, she had dithered for ten minutes over whether to check that stupid box. Greed had got the better of her. That and the mantra she had kept repeating, that it was only one night. She hadn’t expected that if it was Porter, he’d really do it. Especially not sounding so angry. Her teeth found her bottom lip. The word Fonzo was a scream away.

  But he stroked warm fingers up and down her spine and said, “You wouldn’t have ticked the box if you weren’t curious, Vi.”

  Oh, how did he know? Okay, maybe she was a little. Maybe she had projected a fantasy in her mind where he bought her and she let him do this and it proved they were a match after all.

  She was still scared, not so much of the swat of his hand, but of the consequences. What if she hated him for this? What if it ruined everything?

  Clutching handfuls of blankets, she dug her forehead into the mattress and held herself stiff as a board on his lap, breath held in apprehension, instinctively rejecting what was happening.

  “So resistant,” he murmured. “You’re forgetting that I cut my teeth on spanking. I’m really good at this, you know. You’re lucky. Most first-timers get walloped by a clumsy husband and wind up massively disappointed because, like most men, he didn’t read the directions first.”

  She couldn’t help choking with disbelief. Lifting on her bent elbows, she did her best to glare daggers through the blindfold.

  “Position is key,” he informed her. “Straighten your arms.” When she didn’t move, he said, “I’m not going to do this badly so you can tell yourself you didn’t like it. I can clip you to the post to get you where I want you.”

  Begrudgingly she let her hands
slide out in front of her until her breasts were flat on the puffy satin of the quilt, face averted from his.

  “Better. And thank you for wearing these. It’s always a nice touch to see this bunched line of lace cutting across the backs of the thighs.” He lowered her panties, which were insubstantial, but the feel of them peeling down her cheeks was incredibly sensual, especially the slow, painstaking way he did it. “You have the most beautiful ass, Ann-Violet.”

  The flood of liquid heat into her pussy was unexpected and mortifying. How could she be turned on by what was about to happen? She wriggled a little, tensing with self-consciousness, embarrassed by her weird libido that found the idea of him admiring her ass insanely exciting.

  “Purists would tell you that tensing up like that is a big no-no. It dulls the sensation. You want maximum sting and I promise you, we’re both going to feel this. I want this to be as good for you as possible, but the fact is, you’re getting spanked for a reason. You hurt and scared me.”

  She started to draw her arms in and he splayed a hand between her shoulder blades, holding her in place. “No don’t move. I won’t start without warning you. We’re still building the trust and anticipation. Relax.” He stroked her butt with his other hand, offering calming caresses that she couldn’t help lifting into. “Good. That’s perfect. And if we move you up a little more…” He loosened the grip of his legs on hers and adjusted her slightly, then tightened his vice grip again, putting unexpected pressure on her mound with his tensed thigh.

  She caught her breath and he stroked her from the back of her neck to the back of her thighs. “Found the sweet spot, didn’t we? That’s good. We’re almost ready. Are you aroused? You should be, knowing how I’ve been admiring your beautiful white ass, longing to poke your tight little asshole. Yes, I saw that on the list, you curious witch.”

  She tried to wiggle, but was held too tightly, only feeling the pressure on her mound against his thigh and the friction on her nipples against the slippery satin beneath her.

  Please, she wanted to beg. Touch me, Porter. Finger me. God, what was wrong with her?