The Master & the Secretary (Finding Master Right Book 2)

by Claire Thompson

  “Thank you,” she said softly, but instead of meeting his eye, she looked away.

  “What? What is it, sweetheart?”

  “Nothing. Nothing, really,” she mumbled.

  “Obviously it’s something,” he replied. “Please, Tess. Talk to me. Did I read your cues wrong? Did I force you into something you weren’t comfortable with? If I did, you need to tell me.”

  She flashed him a grateful look. “No, it was fine.” She gave a small laugh. “More than fine—it was really exciting. But it was also”—she paused, apparently gathering her thoughts—“weird.”

  “Weird, how?”

  “Your conversation—the two of you. The way you talked about me as if I weren’t even there. Or no, as if I were an object. A toy. A…slave.”

  “And you didn’t like that?”

  “It’s not that I didn’t like it,” she replied thoughtfully. “That’s what was weird. It was more than like. On a deep, submissive level, I adored it. I got this strange, sexy feeling, almost like I wasn’t even me, or I was a different me. Shit.” She gave an exasperated laugh. “I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like I entered this different place—a different headspace, if that make any sense.”

  “A submissive headspace, maybe?” Ryan offered.

  “Yes. But in that space, I sort of got lost. I mean, I felt like I was almost an extension of you—your sex slave, doing your bidding. I was in a kind of altered state. It was…I guess it was scary, giving myself over like that. I’m-I’m not used to it.”

  “Surrender is definitely scary,” Ryan agreed. “I think it takes enormous courage to submit—way more than to dominate,” he said sincerely. “I admire you tremendously, Tess. You weren’t only graceful and sexy as hell in your submission tonight, you were courageous.”

  “Thank you,” she said, flashing him a beautiful smile. “But here’s the thing. I keep thinking about Charlotte, in that book you gave me. She was objectified to the point she no longer existed outside of the confines of being Sir Jonathan’s sex slave. She lost her identity, except in the context of serving and pleasing him. I don’t think I could do that, Ryan. I don’t want to do that.”

  “And I wouldn’t want you to do that,” Ryan said, reaching to find her hand. “I know exactly what you’re saying about Charlotte, but remember, that was stylized fiction, written a long time ago when D/s was still regarded as a perversion. Sir Jonathan and Charlotte were archetypes, not real people. What we’re doing is real life. And don’t forget, we have something they never had. We have love, Tess. And that will make all the difference.”

  Tess lifted his hand to her lips, turning it over to kiss his palm. “Thank you, Ryan. You’re right, love is the key.”

  When they got back to her apartment, Ryan undressed her, directing her to stand still as he slowly removed each article of clothing. When she was naked, he had her lie down on her back on the bed.

  “Spread your arms and legs wide. I’m going to tie you down.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Tess breathed, her nipples instantly hardening into gumdrops he couldn’t help but kiss. She moaned sweetly as he licked and suckled at her breasts, her arms and legs spread obediently along the mattress.

  Crouching beside the bed, he pulled out the storage container they now kept under her bed, which they were slowly filling with BDSM toys and implements. He removed several coils of rope, along with a small red riding crop. He set the crop on the carpet and pushed the container back under the bed. Leaning up, he bound her wrists first in easily removable knots, tying off the rope on either side of the bedframe.

  He got to his feet, admiring how beautiful and vulnerable she looked. Quickly, he stripped off his clothing and tossed it aside. Before tying her ankles, he slipped a pillow beneath her ass and directed her to spread her legs so he would have good access to her beautiful, flower-bud pussy, which she’d shaved smooth for him. Once her ankles were secured to either side of the bedframe, he sat beside her and pushed her thick, dark hair from her face.

  “I love you, Tess,” he murmured, and then he kissed her.

  “I love you, Sir,” she replied breathlessly when he released her.

  Kneeling again beside the bed, he picked up the riding crop and drew the fold of leather down her abdomen, letting it rest against her smooth mons.

  Tess drew in a small breath, a sexy shudder moving through her frame.

  “I’m going to whip your pretty little cunt,” he said softly.

  “Ryan,” she gasped, her rich brown eyes widening with alarm. “You’re not serious.”

  “Of course I am.” He tapped very lightly against the pooching lips of her sex, pulling another sensual shudder from her. “But only with your permission, sub girl.” He rubbed the head of the crop against her already swelling clit, stroking it with the soft leather.

  She sighed. “That feels so good,” she moaned, arching her hips wantonly to increase the friction.

  Ryan chuckled, his cock hard as a rock in anticipation. “You’re ready for more erotic pain, Tess, and I’m ready to give it to you.” He lifted the crop and let it fall lightly between her legs, not enough to sting, but enough to get her attention.

  She gasped softly and bit her lip, visibly swallowing, but she didn’t protest.

  “If things get too intense,” he continued, “you always have your safeword, though I don’t think you’ll need it. Remember, I pay attention to your body and your cues. I’ll only give you what you can handle.” He let another stroke land, this one with slightly more force, thrilling to the sound of leather slapping moist flesh.

  Again she gasped, but her nipples were hard points and a flush of desire was moving over her chest and cheeks.

  “So, tell me, sub girl. Do I have your permission to crop your sweet, hot cunt?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she moaned. “Yes, please, Sir.”

  He began lightly, just a gentle tapping of leather against her spread pussy. Her hooded clit swelled as the leather stroked it, but when he let the first real sting land, Tess cried out and tried, unsuccessfully, to close her legs. She held the rope above her wrists in a white-knuckled grip, her breath a ragged pant.

  “Relax your hands,” Ryan directed. “Take deep, slow breaths. Stop fighting the crop. Settle into the erotic pain and let it envelop you.”

  He waited until she released her death-grip on the rope and managed to draw in several slow, deep breaths. Then he struck her again.

  She yelped, again gripping the ropes for dear life.

  He set down the crop and placed his hands over hers. “Relax, Tess,” he said softly. “You’re doing great.” He stroked her swollen labia, drawing moisture from her entrance up over her hard clit. He knew just how to touch her, and he recognized the telltale signs of an impending climax, but she wasn’t going to come. Not yet. Pulling his hand away, he said, “Shall I continue the cropping? Can you take more? Are you willing to suffer for me? Do you want to?”

  She stared up at him with shining eyes. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered. “I want to. Please.”

  He leaned over and kissed her mouth and then her eyelids.

  She kept her eyes closed as he picked up the crop and let it fall lightly against her sex. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “Good girl,” he murmured. He settled into a steady, stinging rhythm, thrilled when Tess’s cries began to edge from pain into breathless pleasure. “Oh god,” she moaned. “It hurts, but it’s so good. It’s too much. I can’t take it. Oh, oh, oh… I’m going to come!”

  “Ask me,” Ryan instructed, his cock aching as he continued to stroke her clit with the stinging leather.

  “Please, Sir,” she cried, panting. “May I come?”

  “Yes.”

  He continued to strike her as she trembled and bucked, though with much lighter strokes, more of a caress than a whipping. Only when she sagged limply against the mattress, her eyes closed, her body covered in a light sheen of perspiration, did he throw the crop aside and drape himsel
f hungrily over her.

  Unable to restrain himself another second, he plunged into her wet, perfect heat. As her cunt spasmed around his cock, he groaned. He wanted to make it last, but he was too turned on by how passionately, how sexily, how submissively, she’d reacted to the pussy whipping, and, in less than a minute, he shuddered in his own release, calling out Tess’s name as he let himself go.

  ~*~

  Monday afternoon, Ryan stuck his head inside Tess’s office. “Got a minute?”

  Tess looked up with a smile. “Of course.”

  Ryan took a seat in front of her desk. “I spoke to Mr. Stevenson today.”

  Tess’s heart did a sudden flip-flop. “You did?”

  “Yep. And guess what? He and Olivia did continue their affair. Even after she retired, they still arranged to meet from time to time, all the way up until she died.”

  “Wow,” Tess said. “That’s over fifty years! I wonder why they didn’t get together after Pop died? Mr. Stevenson was a widower by then,” she mused aloud. “They could have had at least a year together—I mean really together, without having to hide it.”

  “I actually asked him that very question, but he was kind of vague in his response. I gathered from what he did say that they were both used to the arrangement as it was, and neither wanted to mess it up. Maybe they thought they’d ruin whatever special thing they had if they changed the formula. And maybe they would have, who knows?”

  Tess was quiet as she thought about that. It wouldn’t have been enough for her, but then, she hadn’t walked in her grandmother’s shoes.

  “There’s more,” Ryan said, making her look up at him.

  “What? Tell me.”

  Ryan leaned forward, clearly excited. “I wanted to see what you thought before I committed to anything. You might not be up for it, and if that’s the case, it’s totally cool. Even though you’re my sub girl, you still have the power to say no if something makes you uncomfortable.”

  “I appreciate that,” Tess replied, seething with curiosity. “Now tell me before I explode.”

  “James wanted to know more about what you and I have together. He wondered if you were at the point in your training—his word—that you would be ready for a further display of your submission to an outside observer.”

  “Ha,” Tess interjected. “He got my panties, and now he wants more. He’s just a dirty old man.”

  Ryan laughed. “And you’re saying that’s a bad thing?” He sobered, adding, “Seriously, though. It’s not like that.”

  “I know,” Tess said, still grinning. “I was teasing.”

  Ryan nodded. “But there is more to the story. Apparently George Vanier wasn’t the only one Olivia was exposed to. Over the years, James regularly had men come into the office, and Olivia was required not only to display herself for these gentlemen, but eventually she was expected to service them—again his words.”

  “Whoa,” Tess whispered, at once intrigued and horrified. But really, was the horror only because it had been her grandmother? Was moving from showing to doing just a natural progression in Mr. Stevenson and Olivia’s D/s exploration? Was Olivia’s giving herself to someone else at Mr. Stevenson’s command the ultimate submission?

  “So? What do you think? Would that be something you’d be interested in? I don’t mean that you’d actually have sex with the guy,” he added quickly. “But it would be intense if we allowed him to witness a scene between us.”

  “A scene?” Tess asked, at once deeply intrigued and nervous. “Like what?”

  Ryan shrugged with feigned casualness, though his eyes were hooded and glittering in a way she had come to recognize meant he was very turned on. “I’ll handle the specifics.” His look became playful. “Don’t worry—there’ll be nothing overtly sexual.” He grinned, obviously referring to Olivia’s journal entry regarding Mr. Vanier.

  Tess laughed. “As long as we have that straight,” she quipped back.

  Ryan sobered quickly, pinning her with a stare. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not willing to share you sexually, even if Mr. Stevenson were up for it.”

  Tess grinned at the unintended pun, but let it pass.

  “I’d like you to wear something sexy, but not too revealing,” he continued. “I’m thinking that new waist cincher and thong panties.”

  “That’s pretty darn revealing,” Tess interjected, though she did absolutely love the black satin cincher he’d brought home for her, which gave her an hourglass figure and gorgeous cleavage.

  “I could make you go naked,” Ryan retorted with a grin. “After all, you belong to me.”

  His words unlocked something in her, despite his teasing tone. “Yes,” she managed, her voice suddenly husky. “I do.” And then, taking the leap into what promised to be a wild new adventure, she added, “And yes, I’ll do it.”

  ~*~

  “He’s in room 302. He said to go on up.”

  They approached the elevator together in the elegant, if now somewhat faded, downtown hotel where Mr. Stevenson and Olivia had met dozens of times over the many years of their liaison. Tess was biting her lower lip nervously, and Ryan could feel the tension in her body when he put his arm around her shoulders.

  “Relax, sweetheart. Remember, in a D/s relationship, the sub is the one with the ultimate control. You are giving us the gift of your submission. If you’re not comfortable at any time, no matter what, you tell me, okay? As much as we both like James and are excited at the prospect of a witness, we’re under no obligation to him.”

  “I know,” Tess agreed. “But at the same time, I wouldn’t want to let him down. He’s gone to a lot of trouble, getting the room and that portable suspension rig.” She drew in a shuddery breath as she hugged herself, and Ryan knew she was thinking about the caning to come.

  James and Ryan had spoken on the phone several times since their dinner meeting, and James had suggested that a cane was the next natural step in their exploration of erotic pain. When Ryan had broached the idea with Tess, she’d drawn in a sharp breath, her eyes widening, color rising in her cheeks. If she had refused, he wouldn’t have pressed her. They had time—plenty of time.

  But to his pleased surprise, she’d said, “I’ve been watching some videos online about caning. Some of them are brutal, but there’s this one site called Sensual Pain that showed a couple, obviously amateurs, not actors, and they were both into it in a sexy, loving way that”—her blushed had deepened—“really got me going.”

  “Yeah?” Ryan had replied with a grin, intrigued. “And where was I when you were watching porn?”

  “It wasn’t porn,” Tess had retorted with an embarrassed laugh. “It was education. I watched it when you were on that case that took you out of town for a night last week. I was bored.”

  The elevator doors glided open and they stepped into the empty car. As they ascended, Ryan placed his hands on Tess’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Remember, you ultimately call the shots here.”

  She reached for him, circling her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. “Thank you, Sir,” she said, before touching her lips to his. “I promise to make you proud.”

  ~*~

  Despite her intention to be brave and graceful, Tess’s heart began to pound as Ryan knocked on the door of room 302. As if he’d been waiting on the other side, the door opened immediately, and there stood Mr. Stevenson, tall and still handsome despite his years, his blue eyes twinkling.

  “Welcome,” he said, taking a step back and ushering them inside. They briefly exchanged greetings and pleasantries, Tess on autopilot as she struggled to present a calm façade.

  The aluminum suspension rig was already set up in the large room. It was a simple but effective-looking device, with three aluminum poles joined together at the top to form a kind of teepee. A metal bar hung from the apex by chains, Velcro cuffs secured at either end. A long, lethal-looking cane sat on the nearby desk beside an ice bucket that contained a bottle of champagne. Next to the bu
cket, there was a tray with three bottles of water and two champagne flutes.

  Tess was in something of a daze, dizzy with nervous anticipation of what she’d agreed to, as the men discussed the parameters of the scene. She would be allowed to keep on the cincher and thong, though Mr. Stevenson suggested she remove her heels and stand in her bare feet for comfort and stability. Ryan would practice first with a pillow, before they moved to Tess’s ass.

  Yikes!

  Tess had mixed feelings about being left out of the conversation. Her natural inclination as a woman who’d had to do everything twice as well as any male attorney to get noticed was to put in her two cents, but in her role as a submissive, she quite enjoyed staying silent and allowing the two Doms to set the scene. Her nipples were tingling, her clit already pulsing in expectation, though her anxiety was genuine. Canes left marks, and that was scary.

  “Take off your clothes, Tess,” Ryan said at last, turning to her. “We’re going to cuff you to the suspension bar while we do the practice session. Being restrained will help put you in the proper submissive headspace while you watch.”

  Tess kept her eyes on Ryan as she stepped out of her shoes and slipped off her dress. She could feel Mr. Stevenson’s intense gaze on her. The cincher was cut low so that the tops of her areolas were visible, and in the thong, her entire ass, save for the narrow line of cloth that covered her crack, was exposed.

  She stepped beneath the hanging bar, facing the king-size bed and the window beyond. The two men moved to either side of her.

  “Raise your arms,” Ryan directed.

  As they secured her wrists in the cuffs, her arms were pulled into a taut Y. That delicious, erotic sense of helplessness she always felt when bound settled over her like a warm blanket.

  “You look beautiful like that, Tess,” Ryan said softly, leaning forward to lightly kiss her lips. “You doing okay, my love?”

  “Yes, thank you, Sir,” Tess replied, basking in the loving concern that radiated from her Dom.

  “She is the very picture of submissive grace,” Mr. Stevenson said, admiration in both his tone and his expression.