In His Cuffs(36)

David moved her to a chair and bundled her lingerie into her purse as he  searched for her keys. He helped her back into her shoes, skirt and  blouse then said, "Stay here."

Five minutes later, he was illegally parked in front of the building and helping her outside into the car.

She barely remembered the drive home, or the shower, or him dabbing the  bruise cream onto her skin before holding her beneath the covers.

When the shock wore off, he was looking down at her. "I love you, Maggie mine," he told her.

"You … "

"Yeah." He stroked her forehead. "I love you. I've missed you so much."

"Oh, Master."

"Mr Tomlinson is fine, I've decided," he said.

"Really?"

"You're right, it's ours. Though, from time-to-time, you're welcome to call me Master."

"Will you do me a favour, Mr Tomlinson?"

"Anything."

"Fuck me? I can't bear it if you don't."

"You're up for it?"

"Fucking fuck me, Master."

"Well, since you asked so nice." He left the bed long enough to grab a  condom from his wallet and something from her drawer. He cuffed her  hands above her head then moved between her legs, cockhead poised to  enter her pussy and said, "Tell me you love me, Maggie."

"It took me a while to figure it out, but I did, yesterday. I love you, Mr Tomlinson."

He claimed her mouth and demanded her surrender as he plunged into her  cunt. He reached up and closed one hand around the cuffs, bringing them  even closer.

His thrust spoke of desperation, of claiming, of marking, and she wanted all that and more.

Ending the kiss, he said, "Mine, Maggie."

"Yours, Master," she replied with softness and surrender.

"You're moving in with me."

"Is that a request?"

He drove into her. She lifted her hips and wrapped her legs around his waist.

"What do you think?"

She laughed. "I think you're non-negotiable."

"Not true."

It was all she could do to keep her gaze focused on him when she wanted  to close her eyes and surrender to the moment. But that would mean  sealing out the sight of him with his revealingly blue eyes, dark hair  and intense features. "Not true, Mr Tomlinson?"

"I'm persuasive. I know you won't be coerced, and your mind may be willing to resist me, but your flesh can be convinced."

"Is that right?" She loved this more temperate side of him. It made him richer and more complex.

"Sunday morning lattes," he said.

"That's unfair."

He slowly pumped inside her, filling her up.

"Hot tub for two."

"Hmm … "

"The freedom to scream as long and as loud as you like. Floggings, spankings, orgasms so powerful you can't walk the next day."

"Master is trying for an unfair advantage."

"Any advantage," he corrected. "And I cook dinner."

"Okay, you win. I'll pack my bags."

"Bring your damn corset and the rest of your lingerie and toys."

"All of them?"

"All of them," he affirmed. "And we'll also need some time to rework your employment contract."

Even though he was in her, she froze. "Sir?"

"I want you as a partner, an equal. I want you to stay because you want to stay."

If her heart hadn't been melting before, it would be now. He continued  his rhythmic movement, mere inches from her face. This was the kind of  intimate conversation she could get used to. But there was one thing  bothering her. "My mother, Mr Tomlinson?"

"Needs a good caning herself."

She laughed, and that made her pussy tighten.

"She'll get her bonus, but it will come from her efforts, not yours. She succeeds or fails on her own merits. Fair?"

Habit made her want to protest, but she kept her mouth shut. He was not only being equitable, he was being more than fair.

"Agreed, Maggie?"

"Yes, Master."

He grinned and pulled out all the way before plunging back in.                       
       
           



       

"I love the way your ginormous cock feels, Sir."

"Ginormous?"

"Extraordinarily so."

He fucked her to completion, making sure she came before he did, always, always taking care of her.

"One more thing, you'll always be in my heart as well as my cuffs."

"Mr Tomlinson, Master, there's no place I'd rather be."





Coming Soon from Total-E-Bound Publishing:





Mastered: For the Sub

Sierra Cartwright

Released 8th November 2013



Excerpt



Chapter One





"Another drink, Sir?"

Startled out of his reverie by the softness of a woman's voice, Niles  looked over the rim of his empty glass. Brandy, one of the house's  submissives, stood in front of him, her legs close together, her  shoulders pulled back in a sexy way that thrust her chest forward.

Had he been so lost in thought that he hadn't heard her approach? Or  were her movements so graceful and perfect that she'd managed to  silently cross the Den's patio?

Given her seductively high stilettos, he doubted the latter.

Her long blonde hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back.  Tonight she wore a short, slinky black dress that covered everything,  but seemed more intriguing because of it. The material clung to her,  highlighting her ample breasts, trim waist and curvy bottom. This  woman-sub-appealed to every one of his masculine sensibilities.

Her legs were bare, and her black heels emphasised the feminine shape of  her ankles. For a moment, he fantasised about placing her on her back,  removing her shoes then stroking his fingers against her instep before  applying a cane to the soles of her feet.

He shook his head to banish the image.

It had been years since he'd played with a woman in anything other than a  detached way. In fact, it hadn't happened since the tragic death of his  beautiful, accomplished wife and sub, Eleanor.

But right now, he was thinking about touching Brandy in a way meant for their mutual satisfaction.

"Sir?" she asked, tipping her head. "Master Niles?"

The motion swept her hair to the side, snaring his interest. The locks  were long enough, he mused, to be used as part of a hot bondage scene.

"Would you prefer to be alone, Sir?"

"Actually, no." The answer surprised him.

A month ago, he'd declined the invitation to tonight's party. Every  fall, Master Damien hosted a get-together for Doms and Dommes who had  been members of the Den for at least seven years. It was a small, select  group, and they gathered to play poker, sip the finest single malt on  the planet, enjoy conversation, and if they chose, scene with house  subs. Not many people availed themselves of the playrooms, however, as  most were in relationships, and this exclusive gathering focused on  socialising, which was not his long suit.

Damien had pestered Niles to the point of annoyance.

Despite his reluctance, and tired of his own company after spending a week at home by himself, Niles had acquiesced.

But after half an hour of mindless white lies, assuring his friends and  acquaintances that he was well, he'd made his escape to the solitude of  the patio. He'd dragged a chair close to the crackling fire pit to enjoy  the sunset. Today had been a mild day, and summer was breathing her  last gasps before surrendering to the inevitable shorter, colder,  bleaker days.

Brandy, a natural submissive, rather than one who'd been trained for it,  cast her gaze down at the ground before looking up him. "I never said  thank you for what happened at the last Ladies' Night."

"No thanks necessary," he assured her. "Any Dom would have done the same thing."

Many times, there was an assumption among new Doms that subs wearing the  house's purple wristband welcomed any attention. A first-time visitor  had made that error with Brandy.

Master Damien had not served alcoholic beverages at Ladies' Night,  opting for frou-frou, sugar-laced umbrella drinks that the ladies seemed  to like. But that hadn't stopped the guest from drinking before he  arrived.

Even when Brandy had used the Den's safe word, the asshole had continued  on, forcing her to her knees and shoving his dick in his mouth. Niles  had noticed her distress and stepped in.

Truthfully he'd enjoyed throwing the wannabe Dom out the front door. The  physical altercation had dissipated some of the angst churning in his  gut, emotion he couldn't get rid of otherwise. If Master Damien or  anyone else had noticed the uppercut Niles had delivered to the guy's  jaw, no one had mentioned it.

Seeing his bruised knuckles the next day had been satisfying, but not as  rewarding as seeing the current, exquisite expression of gratitude on  Brandy's face.                       
       
           



       

He rolled the empty glass between his palms, keeping his hands busy so  he didn't yield to the temptation to reach out and touch her.