by Desiree Holt
Montana mentally shook herself, made herself wait for Clint to reply.
“I’m waiting for your answer,” she told him. “And my patience is wearing thin. Give me an answer or put your shirt on and go home. And forget about having coffee or anything else with me again.”
She saw the muscle twitch in his jaw and the ones in his arms bunch as he tightened the grip his fingers had on each other.
“Yes.” The word came out on an exhalation of breath.
“Yes, what? Yes, you want to leave? Yes, you want the clamps? Yes, other Mistresses have clamped you?”
“No, I don’t want to leave.” His eyes were so dark they looked like polished onyx. “Yes, I want the clamps. And other Mistresses have used them before.”
She relaxed inside herself. Okay then. “Stay exactly as you are. I’ll be right back.”
Montana made herself walk slowly into her bedroom, not to rush, and opened the drawer with her special toys. In a velvet-lined case were five sets of nipple clamps, each one carefully chosen for the amount of pressure it could exert and the degree of pain. She discarded the clover clamps as too extreme for this first time—she certainly hoped there would be a next—and the vibrating as too extreme for tonight, finally deciding on a pair of solid gold clamps with tiny teeth.
When she returned to the kitchen, Clint was sitting exactly as she’d left him, hands still clasped behind his head. A tiny thrill of satisfaction raced through her. Without saying a word, she wet two of her fingers and plucked at one of his nipples.
Although the muscles in his chest rippled, he gave no other reaction to her touch.
“I like these particular clamps,” she said in a conversational tone, “because they exert just the right amount of pain to produce pleasure.”
Very carefully, she placed the tiny teeth over one damp nipple. Clint jerked fractionally at the contact then went still.
She swallowed a smile. She’d get a reaction out of him yet.
She wet the other nipple and attached the second clamp then stood back to admire her handiwork.
Perfect.
The nipples were already darkening.
“How long have you and Reece been friends?” She let the tip of one finger drift through the hair down to his navel.
“A little more than six years.” His voice was even, but Montana could detect the tiny edge of arousal underscoring it.
“We met at a club where he had a guest membership. I was the manager.”
“Not locally, I’m sure.”
He shook his head. “No. Los Angeles. He was considering opening Rawhide so he didn’t have to travel so far to play. He needed someone experienced in the business. Someone who could reach out to the kind of people he wanted to attract.”
“He wanted to hire you?”
“At first. But after meeting back and forth for a few months, he offered me a partnership. He would put up the money, but he needed someone to do the work. He has the ranch to run.”
“It seems to have worked out well for both of you.”
“Yes. It has.”
“Tell me, Clint. Do you have a Mistress somewhere?” she asked, running her fingertip along the waistband of his jeans.
His body tensed. “If I did, I wouldn’t be here. When I’m in a relationship, it gets my entire focus.”
I’d love to be your entire focus, Clint Chavez.
“What about in the club scene?” she persisted.
“Same thing,” he insisted. “If I’m in a committed situation, I don’t troll the clubs.” He looked up at her, his eyes unreadable. “And I expect the same in return.” He paused again. “I haven’t been in a situation like that in a long time.”
A monogamous D/s situation. That’s what she thought she’d had with Dusty. She wasn’t sure she could ever chance it again. But something was happening between her and this man in her kitchen. Something she was almost powerless to stop, like a runaway train.
“I’m surprised that a highly desirable sub like you isn’t in a situation with one Mistress.”
His eyes took on that distant look again. “It works better this way. Fewer complications. That’s not what I’m looking for. At the risk of sounding disrespectful, I don’t think you are, either.”
She could have pursued the topic, but it would have completely broken the mood. She made a mental note, however. Another time.
She popped the snap on his jeans and slowly tugged the zipper down. “Your first Mistress. Do you think she trained you well?”
Her fingers insinuated themselves into the top of his boxers, and Clint’s breathing ratcheted up a tiny bit. Montana knew he was struggling to maintain his calm exterior as much as she was determined to pierce and shatter it.
“She trained me how to both give and receive pleasure.”
He swallowed. “Until I met her, I didn’t realize you had to be taught how to receive pleasure to get the most from it.”
“It’s an art form,” she told him, her finger moving back and forth between the waist of his boxers and his hot skin.
“For example, I learned a long time ago that men enjoy an orgasm far more if they are forced to hold off for some time.”
She gave him a lazy smile. “Have you found that also?”
“At…times.”
As her fingers moved slightly lower, Clint’s body tensed even more. She tugged on the thin chain between the nipple clamps, pleased to see the muscles in his stomach flex and a dark flush suffuse his cheeks. His shoulders tensed, but he kept his hands in place at the nape of his neck.
Montana leaned forward enough to take the lobe of his ear between her teeth and nip gently and watched a shudder race through Clint’s magnificent body. She drew in a deep breath, inhaling his fragrance, something very clean and woodsy mingled with the aroma of male and musk. Her pussy was soaked, and she wondered if he could smell the scent of her arousal. She was glad she was wearing jeans or her thighs would have been sliding together.
Playing at Rawhide took the edge off her need to command, but this…this was what it was really all about.
Having this kind of connection with a sub. She just had to make sure she held onto her own control here. Still, the pleasure of knowing this powerful man was completely at her mercy was an erotic rush that couldn’t be equaled.
She glanced at his nipples, now darkened even more, and tugged on the chain again. Clint sucked in a breath but held his pose, even when she slid her hand into his boxers again and found the hot, hard length of his cock. And it was hot.
And very, very hard. She squeezed gently, and he sucked in another breath.
“You may move your hands enough to slide your jeans and short lowers,” she told him. “Down to your knees, so I can touch and fondle and slide my hands over every bit of that wonderful package you’ve got.”
He lowered the zipper the rest of the way and lifted his ass from the chair just enough to slide everything down to his knees.
Montana’s mouth went suddenly dry. She’d felt that cock with her fingers but seeing it, in all its glory, with the heavy sac beneath, took her breath away. A tiny bead of pre-cum escaped the slit. Clenching the muscles in her cunt to still their quivering, she reached over and with the tip of a finger spread the fluid smoothly over the dark, velvety head.
There was nothing unusual in the gesture, not for either of them, but Montana looked in Clint’s dark eyes and something indefinable passed between them. At that moment, she knew they had crossed an invisible line and things between them would never be the same again.
Chapter Four
Clint had his hands clasped behind his neck again, fingers tightly linked as excitement thrummed through his body. He’d argued with himself ever since Katie called with the invitation, knowing he was sticking his toe too close to the fire. The internal argument had continued all during drinks and dinner and coffee afterwards. And then he’d opened his fucking mouth and offered to drive Montana home and he knew he was burned. Not just singed but roast
ed.
She had his number, for sure. Ever since his one disastrous relationship, he’d kept the essence of himself locked tightly deep inside. As long as he kept that distance he could avoid losing himself in anyone again. That’s why the club in Austin worked so well. For an hour he could give physical control to a clever Mistress and satisfy his sexual needs while keeping his emotions locked tightly away.
So how to explain that he was sitting in Montana Steele’s kitchen with his pants down to his knees, feeling that somehow more was exposed than just his cock. And trying to hold absolutely still when the soft pad of her finger brushed the head of his shaft.
“Very impressive.” Her voice was soft.
He nearly groaned. “I would like to give you pleasure with it.”
“Would you now?” She stroked her finger down the length and back up again. “How very unselfish of you to offer me that. What else would you do to give me pleasure?”
“Whatever my Mistress desires,” he gritted out.
Her finger had moved between his thighs to drift like a whisper over his balls.
“Is that so? Whatever I desire?” Her gaze roamed lazily over his body. “Are you saying you’re willing to accept me as your Mistress? As much as you’ve resisted any contact until tonight, I wonder if you can really do that.”
He wasn’t sure he could, either. It had been so long since he’d actually ceded emotional control to someone that he wondered if he’d lost the ability. And if he was able to capitulate to her completely, what would he be like afterwards? How would she look at him?
“I’m waiting.” Although she wasn’t smiling, her tone held a note of amusement. “I think you always hold some part of yourself back. That won’t work with me. I want it all.”
Clint ground his teeth together. “I’ll give you all I can. For tonight.”
He had to be specific about that. He desperately needed to do something to get her out of his system so he could move back into his comfort zone. The problem was, he sensed she had an equal desire to push him out of it.
“Hmmm.” She wiggled her finger down his chest again and over the flat plane of his stomach, leaving a trail of fire every place she touched. When she reached his cock again, it was all he could do not to thrust himself toward her, silently begging for her touch. Her gaze locked with his, she closed her fingers around him and stroked up and down. Once. His balls tightened, and he laced his fingers behind his head so tightly he was afraid they might break.
“Here’s what I want you to do,” Montana went on in a conversational tone. “I want to see you stroke this very fine looking cock. Slowly. Like this.” Another slow pass up and down. “Then, when I tell you, faster. But Clint. Do. Not.
Come.”
Her eyes burned into his, as if searching for the answer to what he refused to reveal.
“I want to come in your pussy.”
Shit, that’s no lie.
“I think you already said that.” Her fingertip made another pass over the head of his throbbing erection. “But you have to earn that right.”
She bent her head, licked the areolas around the clamps fastened to his nipples, tugged lightly on the chain between them. Then she leaned her hips against the table again.
He knew she was waiting to see if he’d obeyed her command. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he set up a slow but steady rhythm, just as she’d ordered him to. Up.
Down. Up. Down. How many times had he done this alone, visualizing her face and body? His balls tightened, and his cock swelled in his hand. The familiar tingle grabbed him at the base of his spine. He was too close, the climax eager to surge through him and break over his body.
He slowed the pace of his hand, breathing slowly, willing himself not to explode. Montana watched him closely. He knew that an experienced Domme like her could tell when he was reaching the crisis point.
“Stop. Now.”
He swallowed a sigh that was part relief and part agony.
Any more strokes and he wouldn’t have been able to contain himself. But the orgasm hovered painfully just beyond his reach. And oh, god, he wanted it. Badly.
Montana reached out to his chest and very carefully removed the nipple clamps. Pain sizzled through his nipples at the sudden flow of blood, but in a moment another sensation rode through him as she bent slightly again and took one into her mouth. Her tongue slipped over it, brushing the pebbled surface while her lips tugged. Easing. Soothing.
Clint tightened his grip on his cock, willing his orgasm not to burst forth. It was suddenly very important that, at least in this instance, he obey everything she commanded of it. But holy shit. Her mouth on his nipples was like liquid fire, the flames reaching straight through his boy to his groin.
He knew at once why she was such a successful Domme.
Her focus was always on her sub. Always on wresting control from him and making the process a pleasure for him. On silently sharing what she was feeling. Making him want to please her beyond anything else.
Dangerous!
Oh, yes. Dangerous indeed. All his carefully constructed shields could crack and tumble in an instant if he wasn’t very, very careful.
Montana flicked a fingernail gently over each wet, aroused nipples. His hand still clutched his erection, as if by tightening his grip he could hold back the flood of semen threatening to burst forth. The need to come was so intense it was an actual pain.
“What would you like, Clint? I can tell that you want to ask me something, but your stubbornness prevents you.”
Yes. He wanted to beg her to let him come. But his own deeply instilled need for control prevented him.
Grinding his teeth until he thought his jaw would crack, he said, “Whatever my Mistress desires is what I wish.”
The smile that lit her face aroused him clear to his toes.
Despite his almost obsessive need to hold back, he knew in a blinding, frightening instant that he would do anything for this woman. And that totally scared the shit out of him.
“Oh, I like the sound of that. And so you’ll get a reward, because what I’d like is for you to come. Right here. Right now.” She raised her voice slightly. “Now, Clint.”
It took only a few strokes before the orgasm that had hovered like a greedy shadow raced through his body, his muscles tensed, and semen spurted from the slit at the head of his shaft. He was nearly shocked out of it midstream when, before the thick fluid could even drip to his fingers, she bent again and closed her mouth over him, taking the head of his cock into her wet heat.
As spasms jerked his body, he gushed into her mouth again and again. Her warm tongue lapped at his cum, sucking it deep, a low moan of pleasure vibrating from her throat down the length of his shaft to his balls. He jerked again and again, clutching at his shaft so hard he was afraid he’d break it off.
Montana wrapped her slim fingers around his, steadying him as she swallowed every bit of the viscous fluid and sucked him dry. Her mouth never left his cock until he’d pumped the last of his release into her and his head dropped back against the chair. Then she pried his hand loose, lowered her mouth once to the root of his erection and dragged it slowly back up to the head.
Finally she leaned against the table again, watching him with her all-knowing eyes, slowly licking her lips with a slow glide of her tongue. A sensuous gesture that almost—
almost—made him hard again.
He released his spent erection and rested his hands, palms up, on his thighs, in the typical submissive gesture of supplication. He was rewarded with a flash of approval in Montana’s deep hazel eyes.
“Keep your hands just like that. And leave your jeans the way they are.” A smile flirted at the edges of her mouth, a mouth now slightly swollen from gripping his cock. “I must say, you don’t disappoint.”
“I’m glad I please my Mistress. But she only gave pleasure here. She deserves to be satisfied, too.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “And what makes you think I’m not?”
> His gaze lasered directly at the apex of her thighs. “I’ll bet if I touched you right now, you’d be wetter than this coffee.
And if you let me slide my fingers inside you, your cunt would grab onto them like a suction cup.”
He’d give her credit. She did her best to suppress any reaction. But the muscles in her body tightened fractionally and the color of her eyes darkened to a smoky gray.
“Very insolent for a sub,” she drawled.
“A sub who’s eager to please his mistress by fucking her senseless.”
“Pretty arrogant for a bottom, aren’t you.”
He grinned. “It’s one of my most charming qualities.”
It occurred to him they were having this conversation while his jeans and boxers were still around his knees and his cock and balls still lay exposed to her gaze. He waited for it to bother him, but for some reason, it felt completely natural. As if the two of them had been together for a long time.
Watch it, Chavez. Don’t go looking for trouble. You know what can happen.
“I’ll make you a deal,” she said, her gaze dropping to his groin then returning to his face.
“Yeah? What are you offering?”
“Let’s give ourselves one full night to play. You agree to perform as my sub for one night. Allow me to use your body as I wish. If I’m satisfied, at the end of the evening, I will give you the opportunity to slide that magnificent cock inside my pussy and, as you so delicately put it, fuck me senseless.”
Jesus! One full night with her? Considering the mess his emotions were in, he wasn’t sure he’d survive. But there was no way he could refuse. Clint had seen Montana in action, and the possibilities of what that hour could bring made his cock thicken again and fire burn him from the inside out. He had to stop himself from licking his lips. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She tilted her head. “Have your other Mistresses been into pain? Have they used special instruments on you? Does it turn you on? Arouse you?”
Past images swirled in his mind, and he felt the heat wash over his face. Pain was an aphrodisiac for him. When he spoke, his tongue felt almost too thick. “Proper pain can give you a ride on the sweet edge of pleasure. And heighten that pleasure. But you know that, don’t you.”
