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

by Dani Collins

  “Now I want you to remember that I’m doing this for you. I know there’s a part of you that needs to know how far I’ll go. Where the edge is.”

  A shivery feeling went through her, stilling her as she absorbed how terribly vulnerable she’d made herself to him. She was putting enormous trust in him. It was true. This was a test. She needed to know how far he’d take her.

  “I’m not sure where the limit is myself. I’ve never done this with real feeling inside me. I’m trusting you to use your safe word. I mean that. If you pull one of your stubborn acts, you’re going to hurt us both and I’ll be very disappointed in you. Understand?”

  She widened her eyes behind the mask, starting to fully comprehend what a tight link was formed in this type of play.

  “But I think this will be good for us in the long run. After I’m finished, I won’t be angry with you anymore. Not about the Ann-Violet lie, not about tricking me into ending the engagement. The jump in the river will be forgiven—never forgotten, but I won’t hold it against you. I won’t be angry you sold yourself to the highest bidder, either, especially since I get to finally have you tonight. But it’s going to take quite a few strokes to clear that slate. Ready?”

  He didn’t give her a lot of time between the warning and the smack. It jolted her into his thigh, spreading a thrum of pleasure at the impact just before the sting and burn sank in. It really hurt.

  She tensed, suddenly not sure she could do this, but he startled her by clapping the other cheek with a hard slap and gave her a second to process the same sensations. Before she fully caught her breath, three more came, left right left. Ouch, ouch, ouch. But oh.

  Something gathered in all the best places.

  He rubbed her hot cheeks, lightly squeezing. “Starting to see the attraction?”

  She shook her head, more to rub away the tickling tingles flooding into her face. He must have taken it as a response because he quickly landed a half dozen more claps. She rocked on his lap, trying to escape, but he firmed his hand in the middle of her back, keeping her helpless to his tanning.

  “I know it hurts,” he paused to say. “It’s supposed to, but are you liking it?” His long fingers delved between her thighs, finding and caressing her slippery opening.

  A gasp of delight escaped her and she clasped, trying to keep his finger, but he removed it just as quickly.

  “Good,” he said in a voice so full of male satisfaction it caused another flood of liquid heat into that hot cavern.

  Another sudden series of spanks had her struggling to get away, but the friction against her now-exposed clit against his pants and the way the quilt abraded her nipples was equally alluring. With an anguished moan, she did the only thing she could think of. She closed both her hands into fists, forced herself to relax, and invited him to spank her till she came.

  He scalded all over her cheeks, even where they met the backs of her thighs, which hurt a lot, but had her so close to coming she began to cry with pain and sexual frustration. She couldn’t take anymore.

  “Shh,” he said, as if he knew it.

  Strong hands eased her onto her side on the bed. “Lie like that so I can see how red your ass is. You did amazing, Ann. Violet.” He stroked her damp hair off her forehead and it felt like his hand trembled. His voice did. “We have to work on what I’m going to call you when all I can think about is fucking the hell out of you no matter who you are.”

  She rolled onto her stomach, moaning at the burn on her ass yet weirdly mad that he had stopped before she’d come. Her bent arms under her chest lifted her bottom up a little and he took advantage, pushing his hand between her legs to find her pussy.

  She moaned, arousal hitting like an ache in her stomach. The relief of his touch, the erotic wickedness of his exploring caress, made her hold still for him, angry that her underpants were still around her thighs, restricting her from opening her legs and feeling a fuller, bolder penetration.

  “So ready.” He smoothed two fingers through her folds, parting her. “I bet I only have to barely touch your clit—”

  It was true. The lightest feather of a touch and she clenched and rode his hard fingers, pressing into his touch, crying out as she shuddered with climax.

  He kept his hand in place, cupped over her mound so she humped into his palm until her orgasm receded. As she stayed there on the bed in a kind of sexual shock, breathless and heart racing, she was dimly aware of him leaving her and water running.

  When he came back, his hands were cool and damp as he caressed her hot ass with cold palms. “Are you too sore to roll onto your back?”

  She started to move and realized she was still tied. Oh yeah, she belonged to him. God, she was almost completely out of it from the spanking and the crazy orgasm, but as he stuffed a pillow under her lower back, propping her tender ass in the air, she suddenly realized this was it. She was finally going to feel a man’s cock in her pussy.

  He stole her panties and she quivered with excitement.

  “Open your legs, Vi. I want to look at you as I undress.” He guided her hands over her head and caressed around her breasts, avoiding her nipples so she arched and spread her legs even further in crazed invitation.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured approvingly, weight lifting off the bed. “You know, for about an hour last week, I almost had myself convinced I could live without knowing what it would be like to come inside you.” A zip sounded and the rustle of clothing. A faintly crinkly sound and then the weight of him between her feet on the bed. “The shoes are a nice touch, but let’s take them off.”

  He let his hard cock rest on her throbbing pussy lips while he knelt between her legs and straightened one up the front of his chest. She wished she could see it, his thick organ against her wet slit. Did he like how that looked? He kissed and caressed her ankle and the soul of her foot as he removed her shoe before he dropped the sandal with a thump. He guided her leg down and did the same on the other. Then he settled his torso over her and cupped her breasts and lavished attention on her nipples until she cradled his head in her bent arms and barely breathed, “Porter, please.”

  “I was starting to think you’d never bend,” he lifted to say against her mouth, then he crushed his mouth to hers and the rounded head of his cock notched at her opening. Pressed. Demanded. Breached.

  Oh, God. He was there, inside her, stretching her, moving deeper, filling her in little catches and insistent slides.

  She made an instinctive noise of distress against his kiss, tied arms tangled across his shoulders so she couldn’t offer any resistance. She couldn’t remove her blindfold and wanted to see his face. She needed to know how he was feeling about all of this when she was one pile of blind sensations.

  He paused and gentled even more, turning his kisses into sweet, repetitive, soothing acts of caring that she couldn’t help returning and encouraging, greeting the flick of his tongue—

  All his weight came onto her and the thick intrusion deepened and intensified the pain until she thought she couldn’t take it. Couldn’t take him. The pressure of his pubic bone came up against her clit. The pillow beneath her squashed so her bruised cheeks were pressed into the bed, making her wiggle in discomfort.

  “Hurt?” he asked in a shaken murmur, stroking her hair and nuzzling her cheek. “You feel incredible. So tight and hot. I’m barely hanging on. Wrap your legs around me. Feel how tense I am, trying not to hurt you.”

  She did, intrigued by the feel of his hips and waist and torso against her inner thighs. Her movements shifted her, giving little zings of tenderness from her butt and sensations of sting and pressure inside her. He rocked to seat even deeper so her clit felt strummed each time they breathed. She twisted to enjoy that and her inner muscles met the iron hardness of his shape, intensifying the rippling.

  Surprised at how delicious that felt, she let a sensual noise escape her.

  He kissed her again and she tasted his smile. They let the kiss get away on them. Before she knew it, he was
pulling away, leaving her with the relief of losing the sting, but she instinctively clung to his thick intrusion. He came back and it hurt, but the friction sent shivers coursing through her whole body.

  She broke away from his kiss to gasp.

  “I’ll go slow. I’ll be gentle,” he swore. “Or do you want me hurry? Tell me what you need.”

  She dug her heels into his buttocks, not caring that it hurt, because the feel of him deep inside her was extraordinary and when he came up against her clit like that she almost died.

  “Like this?” He offered slow, heavy thrusts that she couldn’t help but lift to meet. She made a noise of frustration, wanting her hands untied so she could caress him. But she was his, however he wanted her. He licked her neck and pinched her nipple and she moaned lustily at the amazing onslaught of sensations.

  “Let me feel you come. I’ve been dreaming of it.” His words were a command, but a coaxing one. He kissed her as he rocked into a faster pace, exploring hand sliding behind her thigh and down to where they joined, caressing, teasing.

  Sensations gathered in a knot, layering upon themselves, tightening, longing, growing and needing…

  Oh, God. He thrust harder and faster, pushing her toward the edge of—

  She cried out, bearing down as everything in her tightened. Oh, God Oh, God…

  Release.

  Racking pleasure shot through her in waves of joy, taking her out of herself so she barely heard his ragged shout as he came at the same time, in hard pulses within her, with her. Shivering and thrusting and drawing out the ecstasy for both of them.

  Chapter Eleven

  He cradled her in silence for a long time afterward, both on their sides facing one another, her bound hands between them. Eventually he said, “I don’t want to leave, but if I stay I won’t leave you alone and you’re too new to this. Are you angry with me for hurting you?”

  She couldn’t deny she was hurting. She was still aching from her swim in the river and the scuffs she’d collected climbing out of it. The tanned bum and journey to womanhood were icing and a cherry, but was she angry? Right now she was in a state of loving bliss.

  One she yearned for him to feel, too, but did he? Could he?

  “Not going to tell me? You still don’t want to talk?” He shifted and she sensed he’d lifted to brace himself on an elbow. When she didn’t respond, he caressed from her waist to shoulder to hip. “I’ll take a flogging if you need to express whatever you’re feeling. I know you’re angry that I pushed you down and failed to protect you. Are you mad that I spanked you?” His hand moved to splay over her tender ass cheek.

  His tone sounded pinched with chagrin, which made her bite back a smile. She wasn’t upset about the spanking. He’d been right about her curiosity and, oddly, she trusted him more than ever now. It even gave her a little glimmer of pleasure that she’d given him the guilt he craved.

  It was Ann who needed work. If she could come to him as an equal, rather than a dependent, they might have a chance. She was trying to get there.

  He sighed, kissed her once and rolled away. She heard him dress and lay there on her side, pleased with the thought of his eyes traveling over her.

  “I’m leaving you with a choice,” he said. “I want one of these back.”

  That made her curious enough to want to pull off the blindfold, but she waited until she was sure he was gone. When she sat up—then leapt to her feet as the bruising on her ass made itself known—she took off the mask and saw an envelope.

  It was propped against a velvet ring box. Shaking, she looked into the envelope first. It contained a cashier’s check for two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand euros.

  Oh wow.

  The box held a diamond ring, the stone the size of Jupiter with comet-like baguettes shooting off either side.

  After a quick shower, she dressed and took them both to Eloisa.

  “He still wants his revenge?” she guessed, showing her the ring. “Against his father, I mean. Didn’t you explain to him that I can’t help him?”

  “Is that what you think this is, chèrie?” Eloisa gave her a pitying look. “I wanted him to love me and he doesn’t. Don’t be too blind to see that you have won his heart.”

  “Or my freedom,” she murmured, rubbing between her brows as she looked at the exorbitant check.

  “I have my commission, by the way. That’s all yours.”

  “So I can have this and be alone, or marry him and be dependent on him.”

  “Secure,” Eloisa corrected. “For the rest of your life.”

  “What, stay married even if we begin to hate each other? Turn into his parents? There’s no guarantee he’d want me for the rest of our lives.”

  “Or that you’d stay.”

  “If I knew that marrying him would give him something, I would do it, but…” She knew what she had to do and felt skinned alive by the decision, but she couldn’t be with him as anything less than his equal. “I have to take the check. I can’t be beholden to him.”

  “Ann, I think he genuinely loves you. He won’t be happy with this decision.”

  “Tell him he can spank me the next time he see me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Porter set aside his tablet, not sure if he was pleased or disappointed by this morning’s headlines. A certain British oil heiress had managed, after months of investigation, to have her stepfather arrested on charges of murdering her mother and fraudulently posing as the owner of the family business for years. Yes, she was quoted as saying, she had been engaged to oil magnate Porter Navarro for a brief period. Yes, he had been integral to her escaping her stepfather’s clutches and setting the investigation in motion. No, she wasn’t sure if he would make a comment. They hadn’t been in touch for some time.

  He felt that lack of touch as a dire depravation. The closest he’d come was petting that fool dog of hers, Fonzo. Of course the animal answered to her safe word. Ridiculous well-traveled mutt. They’d been in six different countries since he’d last seen Ann-Violet.

  No matter where he went, however, he couldn’t escape this ache of loneliness.

  They were back in Paris, his mother gone one direction, his father another, thank God. The memories of Ann and Violet were potent here, but he felt closer to her at the same time. Rather than being consumed with thoughts of destroying his father, he thought of her. Probably a healthier mind-set, for all its painful yearning. What he’d planned for his father wouldn’t have brought Tomas back. He realized that now. It would only have perpetuated the hatred he’d grown up with. What he wanted, needed, was love.

  The doorbell sounded and he assumed it was the groomer returning Fonzo from his canine salon. Instead, a moment later, Violet appeared at the top of the stairs and looked down the hall into his office. Into his eyes.

  He stood, slapped awake after a long coma.

  She walked forward, shoulders straight, spine tall, hips swinging, eyes never leaving his expression even though she averted her face just a little. Just enough to signal this wasn’t a confrontation unless he wanted it to be.

  He folded his arms, saying nothing as she came in and backed up to close the door behind her. She wore a lacy summer dress, as virginal and bridal as a twenty-one-year-old ought to be. But there was a new maturity about her that suited her immensely. A quiet confidence that instantly fascinated him.

  “Are you angry with me?” she asked.

  “I won’t be, once I deliver that spanking I was promised.” He didn’t want to spank her. He wanted to hug her. Twirl her. Make love to her. His heart was turning summersaults in his chest and he felt more carefree than he ever had in his life.

  “Would it help to know I’ve thought of the first one often? With a certain fondness, even?”

  His heart dipped and he narrowed his eyes, looking for a lie. “I thought it might be the reason you’d taken the check instead of the ring.”

  She shook her head. “I’m here to return the check. Well, offer a different one for the s
ame amount. It turns out I was entitled to my trust fund just by turning twenty-one. The marriage was Cain’s attempt to transfer ownership of the company without revealing he wasn’t entitled to sell it. It’s mine. Or will be, once the courts get through with him. It could be years,” she summed up with a resigned shrug, moving forward to place a piece of paper on his desk.

  He didn’t look at it. Despite what it signified, it pissed him off. He didn’t want anything from her except her.

  “That’s pretty much the sum total of my worth until the rest is sorted,” she said.

  “You’re broke if I take that?”

  She nodded. “But I want you to have it, so we’re square.”

  He reached forward and folded the paper once, then tucked it into his shirt pocket.

  She pursed her mouth. “You are angry.”

  “No. I read. I know why you needed it. I’m glad I could help, and I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything.” If she came to him, he wanted it to be wholly of her own free will. “Where will you go from here? If you say Eloisa’s, I will do a lot worse than spank you.”

  Linking her hands before her, she quirked a smile. “My friend Raina, from KSA, is working in London. She and her husband have offered me a room, and I’m looking into some translation jobs.” She looked at her nails. “But I did promise Eloisa I’d say hello while I was here.”

  “So you’re returning my money and you don’t need anything else from me. I don’t have anything you want.” The words abraded like sandpaper from the pit of his stomach up the back of his heart.

  She looked away, eyes seeming to gloss even though she didn’t let him look directly into them. “I want and need you, Porter. Not anything you have.”

  He drew in a breath and it was like the first full inhale since she lay panting under him, sweating thighs trembling at his waist, parted lips clinging to his as he left her with a final kiss.

  Opening the drawer in his desk, he removed the velvet box she’d rejected three months ago. “Not even this?”