DragonMaster

by Jory Strong

  “That master will be me,” Jubal said, satisfaction blazing through him at seeing his intended tremble in reaction to his claim, at scenting the way she’d become aroused at the sound of his voice.

  She turned, and he was the one who nearly went down on his knees in a gesture of supplication. By the Great Shared Ancestor, Lyra’s picture of her sister hadn’t fully captured how exquisite she was, how desirable.

  For one bold moment she held his gaze then her eyelashes fluttered, lowered, as did her head. Her body softening, inviting a master’s touch, a master’s caress of acknowledgment, and he couldn’t deny either of them that contact.

  He cupped her cheek, heard the catch of her breath as the scent of her arousal deepened. His cock thickened, already fighting the magical constraints forcing it to look like a human penis instead of what it was, a dragon’s.

  Her head turned slightly, enough to press a kiss into his palm. And he crowded closer, as if nearness alone could obliterate the smell of another male’s clothing.

  “You will be my exclusive property.” Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever.

  “Yes, Sir,” Summer whispered, shivering, unable to deny the request.

  She could lie to herself, tell herself she needed to get into the club sooner rather than later. That waiting for another master, one who’d be far easier to deal with than this one, might mean losing the chance to get the star ball back, but the truth was she wanted to be this man’s exclusive property.

  Everything inside her screamed it. With his voice alone he’d reached inside her, caught up her desire to please in a firm hand as no other dominant ever had.

  I won’t let Kei down, she silently pledged, trusting herself not to get so lost in the scenes about to unfold that she’d forget her reason for being at Chains. She’d hoped to get in unclaimed, because it would make things easier. But all along she’d counted on winging it, making her plan up as she went.

  Her eyes cast down, she took immense pleasure in the bulge at the front of what she imagined must be very expensive trousers, a straining of material that seemed to grow at having her note how well-endowed he was.

  He chuckled, the sound deep and assured, as if her effect on him came because of his ownership, because contemplating what belonged to him aroused him, and not because of any power she held over him. His hand moved from her cheek to her nape, tightened in a message of ownership, a dominance she felt to her toes.

  His firm grip held her upright when natural inclination urged her onto her knees. Heat radiated from his palm, sliding into her nipples and cunt. Centering there though all of her felt flushed, anxious to please.

  A quiver went through her belly. “What should I call you?” she asked.

  “So that we are not strangers, I will give you my name. Jubal. But you will call me Master. Say it.”

  “Master.”

  It was whispered acknowledgement as well as a plea for him to see what he owned, to imprint his scent on her, to apply his will and take control of not just her body but her soul and heart.

  She felt his attention shift elsewhere and everything inside her cried to regain it. A buzzer sounded and relief swept into her at knowing he’d merely looked away to signal that he wanted to enter the non-public part of the club.

  He moved, opening the door. “Precede me. We will use one of the private dressing rooms.”

  She was intensely aware of him behind her. Heat poured off him, or rather, being in his presence created an inferno inside her. She was already wet, wetter than she could ever remember being, limbs trembling and heart racing.

  They reached an open doorway. She entered what could pass as a small sitting room except for the row of beautifully crafted cabinets in which valuables could be stored and locked away.

  “Strip.” The command was terse, raw, as if he took offense at her clothing.

  She dared to glance up, accompanying the look with a silent question as to what he expected of her beyond compliance.

  He rewarded her by cupping her chin, his thumb a heady caress across her lips, a touch that made her channel clench and her heart ache for more.

  “As much as it pleases me to hear you acknowledge what I am to you, there is no need for you to say anything when ready obedience speaks for itself.”

  “Yes, Master,” she said, the words resonating through her.

  Always before she’d used Sir when playing, saving this word for a man who could do to her what this one had managed with his unseen presence alone, touch the very core of her, so all she wanted to do was surrender control and by doing it, serve him, please him.

  She would have dropped her own clothing to the floor without care. But the kimono was too beautiful to treat with such disregard.

  Nervousness poured into her with his scrutiny. She could tell the gentleness with which she handled the garment bothered him.

  Aggravation pulsed off him, making her trembling increase before becoming the shiver of anticipation at glancing through her lashes to see his eyes darken and heat with desire as she removed bra and panties, baring her body to him.

  His gaze was a hot stroke against her flesh, lingering on each inch of skin and radiating possessiveness. He liked what he saw and she was glad she’d been blessed with looks that pleased them.

  Ache intensified in her nipples, the small rings in them an invitation for a master’s sensual torment.

  The silence in the room grew heavy, heat taking on weight and imperious command. She sank to her knees, buttocks touched to her heels, head down and arms behind her back, the pose thrusting her breasts forward in a submissive’s hope of gaining praise, her body already craving his physical demonstration of it.

  “Did I not order you to strip?”

  Confusion gripped her. She dared a glance upward so he could see the question on her face though the hesitancy in her voice conveyed it as well. “Yes, Master.”

  “Remove the necklace.”

  Her breath seized. Her heart skipped and raced, a chill sweeping her flesh. Her hands opened and closed behind her back in the phantom ringing of a bar cloth, habitual delay while she tried to find the right words, finally managing to force them out. “I’m sorry, Master, but I cannot.”

  Displeasure thinned his lips and tightened his nostrils. She cringed inwardly, hating to be the source of it.

  “Cannot or will not?”

  “Cannot.” And because it was truth, she added in a whisper, “It is not negotiable, Master.”

  Lowering her eyes, she stole a glance at the front of his trousers, hoping he wouldn’t change his mind and return her to the lobby. The thought of it caused near-panic, and not solely because of her purpose in coming to the club.

  It felt as though her heart beat against the jewelry she wore in her nipples and navel and hood, ratcheting up the intensity of her worry and her awareness as she waited for him to either accept the hard limit or end their night together.

  Jubal fumed. A man had given her the necklace. He knew it with every fiber of his being.

  He wanted to roar, to rip the offending collar from her neck, because that’s what it looked like to him, some male’s claim of ownership. But if that was so, then what was she doing in this place? Why had she come here?

  He didn’t like the answer the questions elicited, that she sought entry tonight because the man she mistakenly believed she belonged to was at the club.

  Jubal suppressed a growl, though sending her fleeing, if it meant he could capture her outside the club, would have been a welcome outcome.

  She wouldn’t leave. Wouldn’t go beyond the lobby. It was there in the lines of her body along with her worry he might set her free. As if!

  “Your safe word is Enos. Use it and we are finished.” Period.

  One way or another he would remove her from the club. Let the cursed sound of the wizard’s name signal an end to this madness.

  She shivered, trembled, and it was a call to comfort he couldn’t deny. He might be her master, but already the power of a d
ragon’s mate exerted itself.

  He stroked her hair. It was long, like his, reaching down to the middle of her back, and remarkably soft despite being thick and kinky.

  Her tiny sigh of pleasure tempted him to unzip right there and feel her lips on his cock. A shudder of pleasure rippled through him at imagining it, and just as quickly, he felt a tingling at the insides of his wrists where his mating spurs lay in hidden sheaths.

  “Let me pleasure you, Master,” she whispered, closing the distance between them, nuzzling him through the fabric of his trousers, the heat of her breath making his buttocks clamp and the twin rings beneath his cock head fight the magic that kept them flattened.

  “No.”

  She whimpered at hearing his denial and he nearly did the same.

  He fisted her hair. “No,” he repeated. A warning against defying him and a demand she cease her continued nuzzling.

  His cock throbbed in agonized protest at the loss of contact, a searing reminder of the reason this club served a purpose. The audience of humans made it easier to stay in this form during sexual play, though tonight it would be a battle to do so.

  “Stand. Lock up your things. My cousin will have found us a table by now.”

  She rose, graceful, captivating beauty, and he watched, drinking in the sight of her obedience, her exquisite nakedness interrupted only by the body jewelry she wore—and the cursed necklace.

  He blockaded his anger. Possession had long been the law when it came to treasure. She was here. She was his. He would view the possibility of some human’s claim on her as a nuisance, a challenge to his patience. Nothing more.

  An outstretched hand and she gave him the key, further mollifying him with the show of trust and the knowledge she couldn’t easily escape the club.

  “Precede me.” He could no more require her to walk behind him than he could allow her out of his sight.

  They left the dressing room, moments later passing through a door and into an area encompassing three-walled dungeons and theme rooms as well as an open space with a variety of equipment. All were within easy view and walking distance from any number of cozy seating arrangements, while above on glass-fronted balconies, a bar operated and those preferring to drink and watch enjoyed the play beneath them.

  Moans and screams were just two of the sounds very much in evidence in the busy play area. They were accompanied by a variety of scents associated with sex.

  Along the back of his neck, the phantom crest of his first form lifted and fell. He nearly laughed out loud with joy—apparently his mate wasn’t the only treasure in the club this night. One of the humans possessed a powerful magical artifact, probably disguised as jewelry, possibly decorating the handle of a knife or whip, given the fetish wear and general lack of clothing.

  He scanned the area without noting anyone more likely to have the artifact than another. No matter, Nisien was capable of hunting it.

  More than a few slaves and submissives were attached to leashes. Jubal’s hand dropped to the pocket containing the flat jewelry case. Once the necklace was placed on Summer’s neck, it would lock and only he would be able to remove it, that much of this lifestyle he’d embraced fully.

  He could have the piece modified for the attachment of a leash, but he saw little need for it. As soon as he took her to the dragon realm they’d be bound by magic.

  Her skin would be marked by a magical manifestation of his first form. He’d be able to touch her thoughts then, as she’d be able to do his. Communication would no longer require the spoken word.

  He traced the elegant line of her spine with a fingertip, felt her shiver, her steps slowing as if she could coax more from him than just that small amount of contact. Satisfaction deepened the heated need already pooling in his testicles, increasing their weight and size so his clothing became a greater aggravation.

  He placed the flat of his palm between her shoulder blades, gaining pleasure from the touch before stroking downward, imagining a silver-and-gold dragon covering her back as he intended to cover her, mounting her first in this constructed human form and then in his natural state.

  His cock thickened, challenging the magic hiding its true length and girth, the tip already wet in anticipation of having to work to get into his mate’s tight sheath. Submission radiated off her, stirring his desire to protect. Her scent grew lusher as she arched like a kitten being stroked.

  Subtly he directed her toward where Nisien sat, nearly purring at how well attuned she was to his smallest direction. Until the merest tensing of her body revealed that, with head ducked and body responding to Jubal, she’d nevertheless been scanning the area, looking for someone, finding him. Another master.

  Satisfied pleasure turned into a gnashing of teeth. Jubal’s nostrils flared at seeing the leather-clad blond, at witnessing the quick flash of desire on the other man’s face when he noticed Summer’s presence before his attention returned to the male submissive he was apparently playing with for the night.

  Fire coursed through Jubal’s veins. It burned its way down to his palm and he intended to transfer the heat of it to her buttocks. She was light enough skinned that her flesh would bear the evidence of the punishment she thoroughly deserved.

  She dared to look for another when she was with him! When he’d made his demands clear she was his exclusive property!

  Nisien’s eyebrows lifted as they drew near. “Already dissatisfied with your prize?”

  Jubal scorched him with a glance then sat.

  Like Nisien, he saw no need for latex or leather and any other fetish wear in order to get into the correct frame of mind when at Chains. And like Nisien, he preferred the elegance of suits, especially on this night when he had set out to Drake’s Lair with the prospect of gaining a mate.

  He jerked Nisien’s discarded suit jacket from the chair back and folded it to create a cushion on the floor for Summer.

  Nisien’s snort nearly had him sending his cousin away.

  “Kneel, Summer. Facing me, head bowed.”

  He had no intention of allowing her to sneak glances at another man. Nor did he miss the way the blond maneuvered his playmate closer to where Summer knelt in front of the only master who would matter to her from now on.

  “Beautiful,” Nisien said, admiring her ready obedience as well as her form.

  Where the blond human’s lust had Jubal fighting to suppress a gout of flame, having Nisien’s gaze linger on her breasts before dropping to her bare pussy only heightened his lust for his mate—his wayward mate.

  Jubal opened one of the two bags Nisien had carried in after parking the car, searched and found what he looked for, nipple clamps attached to a chain. Straightening, he rested his hand on his thigh, letting the clamps dangle where she could see them, dragon-sharp hearing allowing him to catch her soft inhalation of anticipation.

  His cock throbbed. He hungered to draw her pouty dark areolas into his mouth one at a time, to suckle them thoroughly with hard pulls so they’d become sensitive and swollen before he placed the clamps. If not for her actions he would have pulled her onto his lap, her thighs straddling his. He would have pleasured her, prepared her himself.

  Instead he said, “Play with your nipples. Ready them for the clamps.”

  Her lips trembled. A glance upward sought the reason for his command, looked for displeasure. He hid it behind a stern expression, found a measure of calm by reminding himself that she was here. She was his. And he would view the blond’s presence as a nuisance, a challenge to his patience. Nothing more.

  Her hands went to her breasts, exquisitely feminine fingers settling on her nipples, a soft whimper escaping as she obeyed, gaining her master’s attention, his approval, his forgiveness.

  Jubal’s need to bury himself in his mate’s body grew. He felt each pump and squeeze, each rub of her thumbs across her nipples as if her hand gripped his cock, sliding up and down its length, caressing the head and urging him to come.

  “Widen your thighs,” he ordered,
the sight of arousal-slick flesh and the heady wash of scent when she did becoming more than he could resist.

  He leaned forward, trailed his fingers over her smooth mound, pausing at her hood piercing to press and rub the tiny balls against her clitoris.

  She whimpered, hips jerking, the small nerve-and-blood-filled nub emerging further, swelling and stiffening with his touch.

  “So responsive,” Nisien said. “I nearly envy you, Cousin.”

  Her breathing quickened, her back arched. “You please me greatly,” Jubal said, savoring the way she pushed into his hand and gave a soft cry when he slid a finger inside her, his cock spasming at the tight heat and wet clasp of her channel.

  He fucked into her, adding a second finger, building the need to be filled by his cock. Ceasing only when she was flushed and nearing climax.

  “No, Master, please don’t stop,” she whispered as he pulled his fingers from her. And the words were like strands of magic wrapping themselves around his heart and soul.

  It was all he could do not to pull her onto his lap, so great was the need to hold her against him, to surround her with dragon heat and caress her bare skin as he took her lips. But the clamps dangling from his hand were a reminder of purpose, as was their audience.

  He directed his attention to her left breast. “Elongate your nipple.”

  She did as commanded and he fastened the clamp on it. Watching her closely, determining by scent and expression when he’d reached that edge between pleasure and pain before moving to her right breast and adorning it with a clamp.

  He caught the chain up in his fist. Light glanced off the sapphire eyes of the heavy gold-and-silver dragon ring he wore so others of his kind would know the colors of his first form.

  Wariness laced her scent, her concern as it should be in a delicious little submissive.

  Nisien pushed from his chair. “Your find has inspired me to see what treasure I might locate here.”

  Attuned to Summer’s slightest movement, Jubal caught the way she tensed and looked quickly toward the play area, as if she feared his cousin might choose the human she’d followed here.