Show Me, Baby:A Masters of the Shadowlands Novella(16)

God, no. Her breasts were sensitive enough without pointed pokey clamps. She shook her head and dared a look at him.

His cheek creased as he looked at her. "That's all right, wench. I have other ways to torture female parts."

She considered grabbing a pillow and covering up the target area. But  surely, he wouldn't push her past what she could take. She knew that.  Right?

After examining the gauze canopy curtains for sturdiness, he  repositioned the fabric along the metal rail. He tied two opposite sides  together to form a kind of sling near the head of the bed.

Finding the candles in the wall shelves, he lit them. Then he checked  her music selection on the iPod. When Kitaro's soft strains drifted from  the small speakers, she knew he'd discovered her playlist labeled  "Sex."

The man didn't miss a trick.

"Eyes down, Rainie," he warned her again.

She tried to obey, but had to-just had to-watch him.

He sat down in front of her and picked up the first of the scarves,  rubbing it teasingly over her skin. Silky and cool. He wrapped it under  and around her breasts in an intricate form of breast bondage and … just  the sight of his strong fingers, the brushing of his hands as he worked,  made her hotter than sex with anyone else.

Slowly, he tightened the knots, and her breasts were forced outward, the  skin taut. "Very pretty," he murmured as he tied off the last knot. He  took her mouth again in a long wet kiss, even as he caressed her  now-tightly squeezed breasts.         

     



 

"Lots of toys, but no nipple clamps," he said. "Must mean these babies are sensitive, doesn't it?"

And his damned bondage increased the sensation. Her "um-hmm" of  agreement rose into a mew as his fingers circled her swelling nipples.

"Rainie." He brushed his knuckle back and forth over her jutting left  nipple, sending a sizzle straight to her core. "When I told you to lower  your eyes, you disobeyed me. Am I correct?"

She swallowed and nodded.

The controlled power in his gaze kept her trapped. "Since it matters so  much to you, you may watch me. However-do you want to obey me, Rainie?"

His question was even. No judgment however she'd answer.

Did she want to obey him?

"Yes, Sir," she whispered. She really did.

"Then I'm going to punish you for the disobedience. Next time, if you  don't agree with my order, you may question me. I might explain or  relent. But you will obey. Clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Very good." His fingers closed on her right nipple, squeezing to the point of pain-and over.

Ow, ow, ow.

As his fingers continued the pressure, tears burned in her eyes.

"I'm sorry you have to suffer this," he murmured, stroking her hair with his free hand. "Breathe past it, sweetling."

Even as she inhaled through her nose, the sinking sensation of surrender  closed like a wave over her head. He wouldn't allow disobedience and  really would enforce his rules. The knowledge was … devastatingly erotic.

When his fingers released her, the blood surged into her breast with a sharp influx of relief and pain, and she moaned.

"Good girl." Jake licked her sore nipple. The moist heat increased the  burn, then eased it. Her heart sped even faster as his tongue curled  around the peak.

On her clit, the peppermint ointment warmed, increasing to a light burning. She squirmed at the influx of sensations.

He laughed and, with an easy movement, rolled her onto her back in the center of the bed.

"Jake. Sir!"

"Shhh." Smiling, he pushed her legs apart and knelt between them. As if  he had all the time in the world, he teased her breasts, kissed her  stomach, and took a long study of her pussy.

She closed her eyes. What a place to look at.

"The tube said peppermint." He had a brigand's grin. "I'll let you know if they got the flavor right."

Oh God, it was her most carnal of fantasies coming true-Jake Sheffield  going down on her. A tremor went through Rainie as he lowered his head.

His breath laved her sensitive tissues, making the peppermint ointment  turn both cold and exquisitely hot. "Mmm, pussy and peppermint-great  combination."

The deliberate brush of his unshaven jaw on her inner thigh made her squeak and jerk. Made him laugh.

Even as his tongue teased circles around her clit, he slowly pressed a  finger into her pussy. Her hips rose, and his free hand held her down.

She whined an objection.

"Don't move, little captive." He added another finger. "This is my body  to enjoy-or to punish." The threat pushed her to try to obey, even as  his fingers explored deeper inside her, wakening every nerve.

"God," she moaned.

"I usually suggest Sir or Master, but I suppose God is adequately  respectful." Her snort made him chuckle. And then he sucked on her clit  so forcefully her hips bucked at the thundering pleasure, and every  thought drained right out of her mind.

When he lifted his head, she wanted to yank him back to the position. He  licked his lips. "The ointment isn't as strong as breath strips, but  it's got a good flavor."

"Oh well, that's a relief," she muttered. Her face felt like it was  sunburned, so who was her sarcasm kidding? Knowing she tasted good was a  relief.

"I wouldn't mind seeing some more squirming from the heat though," he  said thoughtfully. "Next time, if I don't plan to do oral, I'll use  something harsher-when my mouth won't be at risk."

Harsher? On her pink bits? Her head shook in an involuntary no, and he  laughed, then his teeth closed on her clit, ever so gently.

As his tongue flickered over her trapped nub, an unstoppable tide of  pleasure flowed through her. She wiggled, losing her hold on reality,  and he pinned her hips and continued using his tongue as a weapon.  Pressure built inside her, swirling low in her pelvis.

The ointment had made her so, so sensitive, and the teasing flicks on  her clit kept her moaning as he thrust his fingers in, pulled out, again  and again, relentlessly transporting her to a peak from both inside and  outside.

She thought at one point that she was taking too long and tried to move.  "Your turn." When she tried to pull him up to fuck her, he snorted and  captured her wrists, holding them against her stomach to pin her down.         

     



 

He didn't even need to speak-his actions showed he'd do-and take-what he wanted. Her head fell back onto the bed.

And he didn't lose a beat. His tongue tapped lightly on her increasingly  sensitive clit, even as his fingers kept up a steady in and out.

God, God, God. She was there. Right there. Her muscle strained to the point of pain.

"Let go, buttercup," he murmured. "It's okay." He traced his tongue over  her engorged clit and along the edge of the hood before rubbing  ruthlessly.

Every nerve in her lower half went off as if someone threw a match into a  fireworks booth. The zinging and exploding and sparkling spread upward  until her whole body shook with the climax.

"Fuck, I love the way you come."

Dazedly, she opened her eyes.

Fingers still deep within her, he watched her intently. A slight smile curved his lips.

"Sir," she whispered. His turn. She should-

"I think you have one more in you." He lowered his head. His mouth  closed around her clit, and he sucked … and rotated his fingers inside  her.

"Aaah." Another wave of explosions ripped through her.

When she finally floated down from the vicinity of the ceiling, heat  radiated from her skin as if her body'd been in a bonfire. Her heart  still thudded enough to jostle her rib cage. "Am I dead?" she whispered.

"Not yet, wench. However, the ship won't dock for several hours, and I  intend to have my way with you over and over again." Propped on one  elbow, he lazily ran his gaze over her with obvious pleasure. "You might  not survive."

His lips were tipped up at the corners. Teasing her. Oh God. She heard a  sound escape her, the one a prizefighter would make when punched right  in the stomach.

Because … because sex with Master Jake was better than dancing. What had she done? She didn't need to-want to-know this.

His regard intensified.

No. No, no, no. This evening was to be fun. Temporary. A one-night  stand. Checking something off her bucket list-not creating an  impossible-to-ever-meet memory.

"Sweetling, what's going on in that head of yours?"

Role-play, Rainie. Pirate talk. She hauled in a breath and put her head  into the game. "Listen, you scabby-arsed, scurvy-brained … "

He blinked. "Damn, girl-"

" … thumb-sucking, syphilitic, slimy scalawag." She scowled at him. "I'll never, ever cooperate, no matter what you do to me."

"Oh aye, there's a challenge I'll take." He glided his powerful hand up  her thigh and his squeeze made clear how strong he was. And just his  touch made her core clench in response. "You'll cooperate … because I  won't give you a choice, wench."





Damn, she knew how to make an evening fun, Jake thought as he stripped  off his shirt and pants and sheathed himself, enjoying the way she  watched him. Her open appreciation was a delight.