by Mari Carr, Red Phoenix, Angel Payne, Sierra Cartwright, Jenna Jacob, Victoria Blue
If she were Avery Fisher rather than a brave, incognito woman, she would never be able to continue this way. Mortification would immobilize her. But tonight, she could be the sub she dreamed of. “Will you inspect your sub, Sir?”
“Very well done.”
She was aware of him standing. Seconds later, he circled her.
“I like you on your knees, sub.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
He grabbed her hair and yanked it back, exposing her neck, making her open her mouth. God, this was everything she’d dreamed of.
He put his finger on her lips.
“Please may I suck your finger, Sir?” It stunned her to realize just how much she actually wanted to do it.
“You may.”
As if it were his cock, she circled it with her tongue then drew his finger into her mouth, sucking, licking, adoring.
“Show me your tits.”
Since he hadn’t pulled his finger away, she continued to suck while she cupped her breasts and pushed them together.
He extracted his finger. “What are you thinking?”
“That I’d like you to fuck them, Sir—my breasts—maybe come on them.”
“You are a hot one.” He placed his hands on hers, forcing her breasts even closer together.
She moaned a little.
“What else needs inspection?”
“My cunt, Sir.” Then instantly, she corrected, “Your sub’s cunt, Sir.”
“You were corrected once, earlier?”
Her pulse stuttered. “Yes, Sir.”
“I think the lapse should be punished.”
“Please, Sir.” Please, please, yes.
“Slap your cunt.”
“Sir?”
“You think it’s yours. Punish it.”
Stunned by the order, she looked at him.
“Are you waiting for something?”
He took a step back to give her some space. Despite the chill in the room, her body was hot.
She slapped her pussy then winced.
“Legs farther apart.” His words sounded like a suggestion, and she knew they were anything but.
“Yes, Sir.” She gave herself a second slap then a third. “How many, Sir?”
He shrugged. “How many would your pussy like?”
She knew he was playing a sinful game of semantics she could never win. “Your pussy wants as many as you say, Sir.”
“Ah.” He smiled.
This man tested everything she knew about BDSM.
Because he hadn’t said she could stop, she kept going, two more, three, four… It fucking stung.
Her pussy become inflamed. And because she was submissive and there was nothing hotter than having a powerful Dom standing over her, commanding her actions, she started to get wet.
She lost track. All she knew was that her pussy was unbelievably sensitive.
“If it were my pussy, it would get a different kind of attention.”
She frowned at him. “Sir?”
He continued to regard her, and she continued to spank until fresh realization dawned. “Show me,” she invited. “Show your sub how you would treat your pussy, Sir.”
“Fuck. You’re perfect.”
For a moment, she thought he might use her name, but that was insane. He had no idea who she was, and even Miss Scarlet hadn’t given it away.
“You may stand and put your hands behind your back.”
Her motions weren’t as graceful as they might have been if she’d recently had a Dom and routinely knelt. But he didn’t complain. In fact, he looked at her in such a focused way that she truly felt beautiful.
He took a step toward her, and she sucked in a breath. She was hyperaware of him, his stance that spoke of power and strength. And his scent, something potent and laced with spice. She wasn’t certain what it was, but she knew it meant danger.
“Wet my fingers.” He held his hand in front of her face, and she licked them as she continued to meet his gaze.
He slid his hand between her legs and teased her, slipping his fingers in and out of her pussy, driving her mad.
She closed her eyes. The soft pumping of his fingers coupled with the sharp smacks she’d given herself made her delirious.
Tremors shook her as she imagined what she looked like, naked except for her gorgeous mask and high-heeled sandals, breasts thrust out, shoulders back, hands behind her neck, legs spread. Surrendered to his mercy.
He removed his hand and she moaned.
But then he slapped her cunt so hard that she screamed, lost her balance, and pitched forward.
He caught her. “Back into position.”
She couldn’t. “The pain…” She squeezed her thighs together, desperate to escape the burning sensation. “Damn. Damn. Fuck.”
“That’s how I would spank my pussy.”
Avery gulped, but shockingly once the searing pain receded, pleasure flooded her. She’d never been more sexually aroused than she was at that moment.
She thrust her hips forward, seeking his hand and the release an orgasm would bring.
“Back into position,” he repeated.
She realized she was gripping his forearms and that he’d leaned in to give her the support of his body. Without her being aware of it, he’d been there for her. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Slowly, she righted herself. Momentarily she closed her eyes to reenter the submissive mindset.
“Now show me…show me how you spank my pussy.”
He expected her to do that to herself? There was no way she could bear it. For a wild second, she considered using her safe word. But then… She knew she might never have another night like this one or a second chance to play with Master Cole.
“I’m waiting.”
“Yes, Sir.” Harder than she could have imagined, she slapped her own pussy.
On top of the pain she’d already experienced, this was stunning. Before she could sort through the emotional ramifications, he was there, an arm around her waist, stroking her labia, easing a finger inside her.
She gulped for air, feeling as if she were drowning. “Sir!”
“Come anytime you want,” he said against her ear, the words gruff and simultaneously reassuring.
He slipped a second finger inside her. The sensation was hot, fucking hot. Then he inserted a third and spread them apart, fucking her hard and deep. Her pussy blazed in response to his sensual assault.
She wrapped her arms around his neck so she could stay upright.
Seconds later, a climax shot through her with shocking intensity.
Avery’s body went limp, and he picked her up. Without her being fully conscious of what was happening, he carried her to the chair and drew her against him.
She curled against him, accepting his comfort, heedless that she was naked.
This Dom understood her, what she needed, maybe even on a level she didn’t understand herself. “That was…” She sought for words. “Sexy.”
“You like it hard.”
Even though it wasn’t a question, she said, “Yes.” Something inside her blossomed. Allowing herself to be honest, with both of them, was liberating.
“When you’re ready, I want you on your knees.”
She stayed where she was for another minute or two, soothed by the sound of his pounding heart, the strength of his arms, the masculine scent of him.
Being with him was so natural that it seemed inconceivable they hadn’t been together before. She was eventually able to rouse herself enough to slide from his lap to kneel on the floor.
“Undress me. Except for my trousers.”
Anticipation flooded her. Not that things hadn’t been real before now, but this command magnified his power.
Avery started with his shoes, untying the laces of each of his expensive wingtips. This part of BDSM helped her center herself. She enjoyed simple tasks that she could treat reverently. In a way, it was meditative.
Once she’d removed his shoes and tucked the socks inside, he stoo
d, towering over her, making her deliciously aware of her submissive pose.
His eyes were lighter than they’d been earlier, more molten. An air of intimacy whispered around them.
“I’m waiting.”
She stood and moved behind him to take his jacket. As he shrugged from it, she noticed that her thong peeked out from one of his pockets, and she absently wondered if he had any intention of giving it back.
Not that it mattered. Part of her hoped he’d want to keep it.
“There’s a wooden hanger in the closet.”
She hung the jacket and smoothed imaginary wrinkles from it before returning to him to unfasten his bowtie.
The image of him with the ends loose against the snowy-white shirt would remain with her for years.
Avery removed his onyx cufflinks then the mother-of-pearl studs and placed them all on the desk before unfastening the remaining two buttons on his tuxedo shirt.
Again she went behind him to help him from the shirt.
The sight of his back, with honed muscles and a couple of badly healed scars took her breath. Avery was reminded that she didn’t really know anything about him. She had nicknamed him a secret-agent man, and she knew about his military background. Judging by the fact he was working for Mr. Nyte, she gathered Master Cole didn’t sit at a desk all day.
She hung the shirt next to his jacket in the closet and tucked his tie into the same pocket as her underwear, then she returned to kneel in front of him. Damn, she loved being with a Dominant who made it easy for her to be the sub she desired.
Avery drank in the sight of his powerful legs. Her mouth watering, she allowed her gaze to travel up, past his lean stomach, and slender waist. His chest had a smattering of hair, and his shoulders seemed even broader than they had when he was dressed. She couldn’t stop staring at his impressive biceps or the unusual tattoo on his right arm.
“What do you want to do now?” he asked.
With any other Dom, she might respond as expected, with the perfect, “Whatever you say, Sir.” But tonight was different. Tonight she was asking for what she wanted. “If it pleases you, Sir…I’d like to suck your dick.”
He inclined his head a little. “There are condoms in the nightstand.” With his thumb, he indicated the piece of furniture. “Crawl to it and bring one to me.”
Avery found quite a selection, all of the shiny packages emblazoned with the Nyte’s starry logo. She dug through the small bowl they were in until she located one without spermicide.
She started to crawl to him, but his words stopped her.
“Put it in your mouth.”
It was uncomfortable, and she wanted to spit it out, but she didn’t dare. Her eyes watered as she made her way toward him, and she fought her gag reflex while she unfastened his belt.
“Think about what you’re doing and not about your discomfort,” he encouraged. “Get out of your own head.”
She tugged on the thin, supple strip of leather, pulling it from around his waist.
After coiling it, she set it aside.
Then she unfastened the single button and lowered the zipper on his pants.
For a moment, she held her breath, wondering if he was commando. But he wasn’t. Cole wore tight, dark boxer briefs. His cock jutted against them. Even though he was confined, she could tell he was well endowed.
She lowered his pants, and once he’d stepped free of them, she picked them up and folded them and offered them to him.
“You’ve either had some good training or you have remarkably good instincts.”
She nodded.
“Which is it? The training?”
Since she couldn’t speak with the condom package making her choke, she shrugged.
“Mostly instinct, then, hmm? I prefer that. I like to train my women to my preferences.”
The idea of being his woman, his sub, made her instantly wet. What would that be like? Not to simply have a scene on the weekends, but to live the lifestyle more often, even daily? To have her days filled with little acts of service to her man? To have him demand dirty things from her, to compel her obedience?
The idea made her slightly delirious. Avery forced it away. They had tonight, and no more.
He took the pants from her and hung them from the back of the chair, undoing her careful work.
“Put the condom on my cock.”
She hooked her fingers inside the waistband of his underwear and pulled down the material. His cock sprang free, jutting toward her face. He was magnificent, if a little on the large side. That he was already hard sent a flash of pleasure through her. She liked knowing that he was as attracted to her as she was to him.
She finished undressing him, liking the way he’d trimmed his pubic hair and shaved his balls. Everything about him signaled his awareness of his sexuality. If the condom package hadn’t been stuck in her mouth, she would have been tempted to suck his cock.
“I love the sight of a woman who’s helpless to me. Put the condom on me.”
Her fingers shook as she opened the package and placed the latex on the tip of him. Since she lacked experience, she concentrated, using both hands to roll it down. His cock was so thick and he smelled so spicy, she couldn’t resist squeezing him, fondling his balls, and putting her mouth on him. No other man had ever objected to her doing it. In fact, they generally encouraged her. Avery figured he would say something if he didn’t like it.
Once the condom was in place, she looked up.
“You did that well.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“But you took liberties without asking permission.”
Her pulse lurched.
“You know better, I presume?”
“Uhm.” The temperature of the room seemed to drop. He wasn’t an ordinary Dom. “I…”
“Do you?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Sir…”
“Do you?” His voice whiplashed through her.
“Yes, Sir!” She glanced away. “I do.”
“And you’re supposed to be asking tonight, talking to me about your desires.”
Also true.
“Fetch the flogger.”
Oh, God. Prior to him, she had never been punished in a BDSM scene.
But then, she’d never been with a man as uncompromising and stern as Master Cole. Fuck. Yes. This. This was what she’d always wanted. But that didn’t stop sudden terror from seizing her.
“Do I need to repeat my order?”
Her movements were sluggish as she crawled to the armoire. She stood and opened the doors and selected the flogger. Again on her knees, she returned to him with it, sat back on her heels and offered it to him.
“Anything you want to say?”
Even though it shouldn’t have been possible, he looked so much more imposing naked, with a throbbing erection, than he had fully dressed.
This was so real, so raw. “I’m sorry, Sir.” She looked up. “Please, correct my behavior.”
“Go back to the armoire and stand in front of it, facing it. Put your hands on the top, spread your legs as wide as you can.” He paused. “I recommend you be quick about it.”
Chapter Four
Captivated, Cole watched Avery follow his order.
Her motions were graceful, innately so.
Typically, he didn’t flog women when he had a raging hard-on. Then again, he’d never had an evening like this.
He trailed his fingers across her shoulders, down her back, over her shapely buttocks. “You’ve got the most spankable ass of any woman I’ve ever known.”
“It’s the cupcakes, Sir.”
“Then I shall hire a pastry chef.”
She glanced back at him.
“You’re divine,” he said. “And don’t think that means I won’t make you too sore to sit down.”
She moaned a little as she faced forward again.
He scooped her hair to one side. “I want you to consider yourself tied.”
“My Doms usually cuff me, Sir.�
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“At what point did you confuse me with anyone else?” He grabbed her ass cheeks and squeezed hard, lifting her off her heels.
“Sorry, Sir.”
“Better.” He slowly released his grip, and her exhalation was so ragged even her shoulders shook.
It was good to know he affected her in the same way she was getting to him.
He rubbed her body with long, slow, forceful strokes, getting her blood flowing, letting her know he was in charge. “You’ve asked for this.” With her words, her body, her actions, she’d been clear about it. “Stay in place. Make me proud of you.”
“That’s a lot to ask, Sir.”
“I think you want me to demand more from you than anyone ever has.” She didn’t immediately respond. “That’s why you approached me.”
“Yes,” she whispered, as if the word were a confession.
“You can count or not. I’ll stop when I’m ready or when you say red.”
He saw her tense her muscles. “Give yourself over.” He touched her, soothed her until she exhaled. “Good.” He gave her a few gentle strikes on her perfect buttocks. He had no concern about losing his erection. The sight of her skin turning color beneath the supple strands of his flogger was enough to keep him aroused.
He continued to work her with light strokes until he saw the tension drain from her.
Only then did he start the flogging in earnest. “What are you learning?”
“To ask, Sir.”
About a year ago, he’d been at Joe and Noelle’s play party with his girlfriend and sub, Gia. The problem was, Gia had been unable to communicate effectively. She’d hated that he was gone for long periods of time, but she pretended it was fine. After he left, her doubts and insecurities rose, and she’d convince herself things between them were over. Every time he’d called her, they’d argue. When he returned home, she’d greet him like a lover, and then within a day, there’d be an argument. She expected him to know how she felt, what she needed from their relationship.
He’d sent her flowers that she’d thrown away. He’d bought her jewelry that she’d donated to charity. No matter what he tried, it was the wrong thing.
In the end, he hadn’t been able to deal with the turmoil she created. After the play party where he’d first seen Avery, he’d taken a contrite, loving Gia home. But once she’d come down from her endorphin high, her personality had changed again. When she’d told him to get out of their apartment, he’d left. He took one out-of-town assignment after another, and he hadn’t played with a sub since.
