“Master…”
“Hush, sub. I’ve waited a long time for this.”
“What do you mean…”
“Just that I’ve waited a long time to feel this connection.”
* * * *
Jay needed to backpedal, to dial down his reaction to Penelope. That had been close. He certainly wasn’t ready for her to see beneath his mask—either the physical one or the emotional one. He had to admit to himself, though, that he had indeed been waiting a long time to feel her sweet body in his arms and her mouth under his. Five long years. He couldn’t afford to fuck it up now. When she’d said he hadn’t been someone she could trust or rely on, it had felt like a knife to his heart. He’d known he had hurt her badly, but not the true extent of the hurt. He wanted more than anything to heal the damage he had done.
Jay sat back and just enjoyed holding Penelope’s warm and trusting body in his arms. How would she feel when she found out who was hiding behind the mask? He hoped he could redeem himself before that happened. He knew now just what he’d been missing for five years—his other half.
Chapter Three
In the Main Dungeon on the top floor of The Black Dahlia Hotel, Fort Lauderdale Beach, Florida, Friday, Midnight, January 1, 2016
At midnight, the confetti and balloons rained down from the ceiling, horns blew, and catcalls echoed off the walls of the dungeon. Jay and Penelope had been dancing to a slow tune on the small dance floor at the back of the lounge area. He crushed Penelope against his chest and tightened his arms around her. Then he brought his lips down to hers for a long, deep, searching New Year’s kiss. It seemed that the several hours he had spent talking to her, cuddling and playing had paid off. She melted into him with abandon and trust, and it made his heart clench. He wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing here, but he wanted to have a chance to change her mind. He wanted the opportunity to apologize and make things right. He didn’t know how else to accomplish his goals. He knew she would turn and run in the other direction if he approached her openly.
“Happy New Year, Penelope. I hope this is a great year for you.”
“Happy New Year, Master. I wish I knew your name and could see your face.” She looked up at him as though trying to see through the mask.
“All in good time, subbie. I’ve reserved a theme room for our scene, or we can start out here—whatever would make you more comfortable.”
“Well…it’s been a long time for me. I think I would rather go to a private theme room. I’ve heard they are spectacular.”
He bent down and scooped her up into his arms, and started for the hallway leading to the private theme rooms. They reached the last door where the plaque read “French Bordello.” He swiped the card through the reader and opened the door. He walked through and set Penelope down on the floor.
* * * *
In the French Bordello theme room on the top floor of The Black Dahlia Hotel, Fort Lauderdale Beach, Florida, Friday, just after Midnight, January 1, 2016
Penelope looked around in amazement. Wow. They weren’t kidding. This room could have been brought straight from a nineteenth-century upscale Paris whorehouse. The room was opulent, with red and gold silk linens on a luxurious, hand-carved, gold-leafed bed. A tapestry-covered chaise lounge filled one corner, and there were heavily carved gold-framed mirrors on three of the walls. The BDSM equipment was on a smaller scale than in the main dungeon. There was a bottle of French champagne on ice and a tray of hors d’oeuvres on the credenza.
“Master, this is incredible. I had no idea it would be so opulent. Decadent. Elegant. I don’t know what word I’m looking for here. It’s amazing that you were able to get a theme room on such a busy night.”
“They do go the extra mile. I made this reservation weeks ago.” He smiled encouragingly. “I know you haven’t done this in a while, so I’ll prompt you on the protocol. Disrobe and hang your clothes neatly in the armoire near the door. You will find ankle and wrist cuffs. Put them on and assume the slave position in front of the hanging chains.”
Penelope hurried to comply. She was anxious. It had been five years since she had done this, after all. Master stood with his impressive arms crossed over his chest. When she was in the slave position below the chains, he walked around her and carefully adjusted her position.
“Good, sub. You don’t seem to have forgotten the essentials.
“Thank you, Master.” Butterflies were battling in her belly as dominant vibes rippled off him. This had always excited her, and it seemed that had not changed.
Master extended a hand and helped her rise. When she was standing, he fastened her wrist cuffs to the hanging chains and adjusted the length. Then he fastened her ankle cuffs to the spreader bar recessed in the shiny wood floor. He walked around her, examining her body. Thank goodness he wouldn’t be able to read her expression, since the mask obscured the top half of her face. Unfortunately, she couldn’t read his, either. The nervous tingles began in her pussy, and rapidly spread up her back and out to her arms and legs. This was nerve-wracking.
He stood behind her and ran his hands soothingly up and down her back, arms, legs and over her butt. He leaned in close and whispered, “Relax, subbie. Everything will be fine.” He kissed the back of her neck and shoulders and then ran his tongue down the valley of her spine. Chill bumps sprang up along the path of his tongue, and he soothed them away with the rough palm of his big hand. She groaned. God, it had been so long since she had felt this way. The few times she’d had sex since she had walked away from Jay had been pleasant enough, but nothing to shout about. She had a feeling she would be shouting tonight. “Master?”
“Quiet, sub. Just relax and enjoy.” He continued the erotic torture and she began to writhe under his hands. She couldn’t clamp her legs together, and she was at his mercy.
“Please, Master. Please touch me.” His hand whipped out and delivered a sharp slap to her bottom. Yikes. That stung.
“I’m sure you know better than that.” Before the sting had dissipated, he slipped his hand between her legs and tested her pussy for dampness. He studiously avoided touching her clit, and it was screaming for attention. “Getting nice and wet, sub. Almost there.”
Her legs were spread wide open, and he ran his fingers through her slick pussy lips and plunged two fingers into her hot channel. She groaned. She wanted the thick, hard cock she had seen behind the zipper of his jeans, and she wanted it now. But she couldn’t ask for it without inviting another smack. He reached around and cupped her breasts, pinched the nipples lightly, and whispered in her ear, “What do you want, Penelope?” Afraid to answer, she arched her back and bumped her bottom against him. “You’ll have to ask me for it, sub. I need to know you want me.”
“Yes, please, Master. Please fuck me.” That had been hard to say, but she had meant it. She wanted him desperately.
He smacked her butt again. “We’re making love, not fucking tonight—all night.” His voice was low and gravelly and raked along her nerves. He bent down and released her ankle cuffs. He lowered the zipper of his jeans and his erect shaft sprang out of the opening. He moved in front of her and boosted her up until her legs circled his waist. His hands gripped her soft, round bottom, and her hot, slick center grazed over his hard-on. She rubbed against him, desperate to get him inside of her. With her hands still bound to the chains above her head, she had no leverage. She was still at his mercy. She tried to read the intentions in his very blue eyes, but they were keeping his secrets.
* * * *
Jay groaned as he seated his throbbing cock deep in her hot center. She’d been ready, and her cunt muscles gripped him tightly. He hoped his legs would continue to support him. God, he’d missed this connection with her. She’d been his sub, his slave, his woman, his love. Yeah, he hadn’t been a saint for the last five years, but fucking was fucking. Loving his woman was something else, something soul-deep, something he needed with everything he was, something he wanted for the rest of his life.
&n
bsp; He began to move, to stroke slow and easy, drawing out the withdrawal and slamming in on the entry. He probably should have taken this to the chaise or the bed. He wasn’t entirely sure he could rely on his legs to hold him up. Penelope moved with him, tightening her muscles on the withdrawal and relaxing them on entry. They had always been in sync. The best sex of his life had been with Penelope, but it had always been so much more than that.
He powered up his strokes as Pen dropped her head back. He kissed her neck and reached down to take her hard nipples into his mouth, raking first one and then the other with his rough tongue. She groaned and brought her head back up, and he plundered her mouth. God, she was sweet. She kissed him back for all she was worth. He was close, so close for this first time, but he could feel that she was as well.
He had a choice here—take them both over the edge or try to draw it out. And then the decision was made for him as his balls drew up against his body and got ready to shoot his load. Penelope was right on the edge as well, and he let it fly. The feeling was so intense, he thought he might have blacked out for a second. He felt her body tighten in conjunction with his own and her orgasm washed over her like waves crashing through her body. His ejaculation went on and on. Apparently, he’d been storing up a lot of love for Penelope.
* * * *
Penelope was shaking. Oh, my God. She hadn’t come like that in five years, and she had been beginning to think she never would again. Maybe life wasn’t over after all, and hopefully tonight wasn’t either.
Who is this guy? He reads my body like a book, always making just the right move at the right time. He was pretty fantastic.
He reached up and disconnected first one wrist and then the other. She dropped her arms around his neck. The overhead position could be a strain after a while. Her body was still humming as he headed toward the bed. He set her on her feet while he swept the decorative pillows off the bed and pulled the covers back. He lifted her again and deposited her on the bed, removed his boots, socks and jeans, and climbed in beside her. He pulled her up against his chest. “Let’s rest, baby. We’re going to need all our resources for round two.”
Yikes! If round two is as amazing as round one, I might not survive.
Penelope woke up, and she didn’t feel Master’s comforting warmth behind her. She turned to look for him. He was standing next to the credenza, uncorking the bottle of champagne. He was still naked but also still wore the mask. That was a little disconcerting. Hers was gone. Then she saw it resting on the night table. He turned toward her and said, “Sleep well?”
“Yes, Sir. Very well.”
“Relax for now, subbie. We’ll pick up protocol in a little while.”
“What shall I call you then?”
“It will have to be Master or Sir.”
“Aren’t you going to take off your mask? I would like to see your face after that amazing experience.”
“I’m afraid not, Penelope. Not yet. Maybe never. Can you live with that?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No. Not right now. Maybe later. Do you want to spend the week with me under these rather mysterious circumstances?”
She thought for a moment and took stock of her body’s responses. “Yes. I’ll let you know if that changes.”
“That’s fair. Here, have a glass of champagne.” He brought the flutes filled to the brim with golden bubbles to the bed. Then he brought the tray of hors d’oeuvres to the bed and set it down, climbed back in, and pulled the comforter to his waist. He clinked his glass to hers. “Here’s to us and a fabulous new beginning. Happy New Year, baby.”
“Happy New Year, Sir.”
* * * *
Jay didn’t know if he could keep this up, but he did know it was way too soon to let Penelope in on his little secret. If she found out right now, she’d de-ball him. Maybe slit his throat, or some other unpleasant and possibly life-threatening consequence. He smiled to himself. She was a hell of a woman, and she was going to be his again, without benefit of a mask. He just had to work it out, that was all—work it out like any other problem. He was usually good at solving problems, this little matter with Penelope notwithstanding.
They’d decimated the hors d’oeuvres and each had another glass of champagne. He said, “I’m glad to see you…have an appetite.” He’d almost said still have an appetite. He was going to have to be careful of what he said, and that she and her posse of girlfriends did not see him around and about the hotel without a mask.
He took the glasses and tray back to the credenza and returned to the bed. “Time for round two, baby girl, and we’re back in the scene. I hope that little snack has restored your energy, because I am not nearly done with you tonight.” He grinned. “We can stay all night if we want to and order breakfast in the morning.” He hoped this dilemma was solved soon, because wearing this mask was getting annoying.
“Yes, Master. I’d like that.”
Jay turned her into his arms and rolled over on top of her, spreading her legs wide with his broad torso. “I’m ready for dessert.” He brought his mouth down to her beautiful, pink pussy and began to lick, nip, and suck. She was so responsive, and he quickly found her ready for him. Not one to waste time unnecessarily, he got to work on the main event. He’d been waiting five years for this feast.
* * * *
Penelope, always an early riser, woke before Master. They’d had sex a total of three times, and her body was pleasantly achy. He’d nudged her half awake and taken her from behind sometime during the night. It had been slow and sweet and lacked the frenzy with which he’d taken her earlier. Her orgasm had been a warm buzz through her entire system, rather than a screaming explosion. Both were great.
Now, as she enjoyed viewing his almost-uncovered body, she was tempted to lift a corner of the black half mask and see what he looked like under there. That would be totally against the rules and might earn her a really severe punishment, or he might be angry enough to call off their weeklong adventure. She’d better not try it. She wanted this week with him. She wanted it badly, and she wasn’t going to take a chance on ruining it.
She ran her small hand down over his chest and lightly grasped his relaxed cock. He stirred, and she gripped it a little more firmly. He rolled over and pulled her into his arms, but continued to sleep. Rats. A little morning quickie before a shower and breakfast would be nice. She slid from his loose hold and moved down his body, brushing the comforter out of the way. When she was in position, she took his cock between her lips and began to suck gently. She licked and nipped up and down the shaft, and he began to lengthen and stiffen in her mouth.
“That’s a great way to wake up, baby,” he mumbled into the pillow. His eyes slowly brightened behind the mask, and his grin was lazy and interested. His dark morning beard, combined with the black mask, made him look dangerously sexy. She was dying to see his face. Was he handsome? Was he a dog? No, he had to be handsome. A guy with this body couldn’t be a woofer. The Universe couldn’t be that cruel. She giggled around his cock. “What is so funny, sub? Share with your Master.”
Uh oh. Time to get serious. Rather than answer, she began to suck and lick the hard cock in her mouth in earnest. Hopefully, if she did a good job, he would forget that she hadn’t answered his question.
Chapter Four
In the Wilson-Easton-Hunter suite at The Black Dahlia Hotel, Fort Lauderdale Beach, Florida, Friday, New Year’s Day, late morning, January 1, 2016
Penelope walked into the suite quietly, in case the girls were still asleep, only to find them waiting in the living room for her with avid looks of curiosity on their faces.
“So, girlfriend, let’s have the dirty deets. How was he?” Kathi had an expectant look that said she would have all of the details, and right damn now. She leaned forward, poured another cup of coffee from the tray on the coffee table and extended it to Penelope.
Penelope grinned. “What do you mean? What deets?”
“Don’t get smart with us, girlie
.” Morgan looked just as determined to have the whole story.
Uggg. Girlfriends. “It was wonderful. I have to say that was the best sex I’ve had since Jay—maybe before Jay—and that’s saying a lot. Jay may have been an asshole, but he read my body like a book, one he wanted to memorize. This guy was the same, very attentive and a great lover. We made love three times last night in between champagne and snacks. Then I gave him a rather spectacular BJ this morning, and we had sex again. Then we had breakfast in bed.”
“What does he look like?” Morgan had a gleam in her eye. Kathi was the pushier, more determined one, but Morgan had an insatiable curiosity that occasionally got her in trouble with her Doms. Thankfully this new one, Eric, was more patient, or else he was still in the throes of “new relationship nirvana,” and Morgan got away with more.
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t take off his mask. He said he wanted to keep the mystery for a while. When I woke up last night my mask was on the night table, but he still wore his.”
“Crap. I’d be dying of curiosity.” Typical Morgan.
“I am. I was tempted to take a peek when I woke up this morning and he was still asleep, but I was afraid of the consequences. Except for a couple of smacks on the backside, he didn’t spank me. I sort of missed that. Jay never let an opportunity to paddle my butt get past him.”
Penelope's Gift [The Black Dahlia Hotel 4] (Siren Publishing LoveEdge) Page 3
