“Has anyone ever eaten your pussy before?” He growled the question against her tits, rubbing himself over the satin of her skin.
“What?”
He loved how out of breath she was, out of herself. When she let go, she was a sensual thing. So buttoned up and proper during the day, she turned into a sexy sub when he stripped her down. He dragged himself up so he was on his knees between her thighs, staring down at her. No one who looked at her in her shapeless cardies and bland skirts would ever imagine that she could look so fucking wanton. “Your pussy. You know that thing you never really thought about before? Has any man ever put his mouth on your cunt? Ever made a meal out of you? Ever fucked you long and hard with his tongue? For that matter, has any woman ever done it? I would love to hear that story, pet.”
He expected her to flush and she did, a pretty pink. Her ass would be lovely pink, too, but instead of turning away, she met him, amusement in her eyes. “No, Master. No lesbian loves in my past. And I believe you already know the answer to the other. Peter was fastidious. He wouldn’t try ethnic food, much less put his mouth on me there. On my pussy.”
Prat. Dumbass, as his American friends would call him. “I’m not fastidious.”
Her eyes went dreamy and one hand came up to cup his cheek. “No, you’re not. You’re dirty, Master. You’re a dirty, nasty man. You’re going to eat my pussy, aren’t you? You’ll do all those things you said.”
His cock jumped. Nasty words sounded somehow sweet coming out of her mouth. “Yeah. I’m going to do everything I promised.”
He looked down at her pussy. Plump. Ripe. Her labial lips were already wet with arousal. Her clitoris was poking out of its hood, all pearly and lovely in the early morning light. She was perfectly smooth. She’d done a damn fine job on herself. He could see her, working the razor over her flesh with the same care and caution she used when breaking a code or translating a document. She’d probably looked up how to do it, studied it so she would be perfect.
“I’m going to teach you. I’ll teach you how to be my sub, my perfect partner.” He let his finger run across the slit of his cock, gathering the pre-come. He rubbed it into her clit, wanting a piece of himself on her. Later, he would come all over her, rubbing it into her skin. He would come inside her and know she walked around with his come in her pussy.
He’d never had a permanent submissive, never collared one before, but she would wear every mark of his possession.
“Damon, you’re killing me.” Her hips wiggled, trying to force his finger to rub harder.
No time like the present. She wasn’t in charge. He’d meant to ease her into discipline, but that was before he’d realized how much she needed it. “I believe I told you to call me Master. Do you know what a safe word is?”
Her eyes flared. “Yes.”
“Pick one.”
“Master, I…” Something in his eyes must have told that beautiful brain of hers that this was another fight she couldn’t win because she nodded suddenly. “Penguin. It’s the first word that came to mind.”
“Excellent.” He moved off her and neatly flipped her over, exposing the sight of the most gorgeous arse he’d ever seen. “You’re not in charge. I’m in charge. You’ll take the pleasure I give you and by god, you’ll take my discipline.”
He slapped her cheeks three times in rapid succession. A sexy gasp came from her mouth.
“Oh my god.”
That wasn’t her safe word. Not anywhere close. Another three. Hard smacks against those juicy cheeks. She trembled under his hand, but didn’t make another sound.
“Can you take four more? That’s what you’ll get when you try to steal an orgasm from me. You’ll get ten this first week because we’re in training. It will be so much worse for you later, pet.”
“Yes. I can take it.” There was a steely will in her voice and then she sighed and settled down, offering her bum to him.
God, she was perfect. He drew out the last four, allowing his hand to settle against her flesh so the heat would seep into her skin, turning to arousal.
When he was finished with the final smack, she collapsed, her back shaking.
A flare of panic hit his system. Had he been too hard on her? He turned her over, praying she wasn’t crying. He couldn’t handle it if she cried because he’d been too rough.
Her face was flushed, her eyes soft. “Master?”
She wasn’t afraid. Relief rushed through him. “Yes, love?”
“I think I’m a freak.” A smile flashed on her face.
He laughed long and hard because he hadn’t expected that. That summed her up. Unexpected. “Yes, you are. Lucky for you. Being a freak is so much more fun. Do you understand what I want?”
“You want me to be still. You want me to submit.”
Such a smart girl. “Yes. I’ll tie you down if I have to. Don’t think I can’t do it. The bed was custom built. You can’t see it right now, but there’s a whole system under the mattress built for naughty subs who can’t hold still. Once I’ve got you tied down by your arms and legs, I’ll be able to do anything I want. I’ll be able to torture your sweet pussy.” He ran a hand over her mound, feeling how wet she already was. “I’ll keep you on edge all day long. You’ll be crying and begging for me to let you come.”
“I’m quite there already, Master.”
She had no idea what he could do to her. “Not yet, you aren’t. You’ve just had a little taste. He didn’t make you come.”
She shook her head. “No. Never.”
“I make you come. I’m the man who makes you come. Say it.”
“You make me come. Only you.”
He wasn’t sure he liked the raging jealousy that went through him every time he thought about that skinny accountant putting his hands on Penelope. He had the deepest instinct to obliterate the man. Had Peter told her he loved her? Had he offered her the life she deserved? It didn’t matter because he hadn’t been man enough to keep her. It had been easy to find that story. Peter saved his e-mails. He’d talked about how Penelope had gotten so involved in her mother’s care that she hadn’t found time for him. Stupid boy. He should have taken over. She’d been drowning and no one had offered to save her. No one had walked in and made life easy for her. Her siblings had visited but no one had taken control. He would have moved them both in here and hired a nurse twenty-four seven, costs be damned. He would have made sure Penelope never forgot that she was a woman and not just a caretaker. He would have had her in bed every night screaming out her pleasure, the tension dissolving away in pulse-pounding sex.