It was insane. She’d never been so mad for anyone in her life. She wanted to eat him alive. She pulled away to suck in air. “Are you sure you don’t wear some type of pheremone cologne?”
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His grin was quick, feral, as distracted as a wolf taking a moment to acknowledge his joy in the hunt before the charge, the lunge to take a throat. Hers, in this case, his lips pressing on the vulnerable artery, biting the mark he’d left on her, this time nursing it, offering her an apology with his gesture even as his tongue flicked fire around it. She arched her throat and as she did it, turned her body, so her upper thigh was pressed against his prominent cock. His hand cupped her left breast, stroking, molding it, her nipple sliding between his index and middle fingers to squeeze with an intensity that was ruthless in its determination. He moved his thigh and it was between her legs, rubbing, setting off screaming nerves everywhere.
“Come for me,” he whispered roughly. “For God’s sake, give me something.” It was a savage whispered plea. It came from the place inside him she desperately wanted to make open to her, so when she heard it, she wanted to reward him for that, and give to him.
As if her internal decision to grant his wish slammed down a lever, her response gushed forth, flooding her blood stream, tensing her muscles in that perverse way a physical release did, as if it was pulling energy from the body as quickly as a drawstring, taking the elasticity from every muscle and tendon.
She played the game so well that she did not permit herself orgasm often, so when she came it was hard, shattering. In this case, she could not say whether she had permitted it or he had won her surrender with his whispered words, his strong hands, his overwhelming determination to claim something of her, make her his Mistress.
For she knew that the Mistress was as much the possession of the slave, even if Mac did not know it yet. As a result, it was not without a little fear that she felt the waves come crashing down on her.
The full shock of it hit her pussy at once. Even under her clothes she felt the spasms clench her against the pressure of his leg, and she clung to him, breathing fast, soft breathy moans, a shaking that swept through her limbs and made him hold her tighter.
He pressed his lips to the soft skin by the corner of her eye and stayed there, working his leg against her, letting her writhe on it until her body weakened, the drawstring released, all the muscles going loose and quivering.
Holding her close, he held her up. His erection was an iron bar against her hip, and she was pleased he was that way, knew he would suffer from wanting her until she gave him leave to release himself in the way she designated. She also knew he would use all the considerable reserves of his personality to try and make her agree to the way he wanted to do it. Deep inside her, while fucking her pussy.
She was looking forward to the challenge, all the more because she wasn’t sure what the outcome would be.
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Chapter 9
“So did you have any questions you want answered, before we get there?” It was only a thirty-minute drive to Tyler’s from the picnic site, but Violet made good use of the time. She posed the question while she ran her fingers up and down his thigh, wandering frequently over to the curve of his testicles, making him keep his legs open to provide her access. She knew the plug teased him, and she added to it. As a result, he stayed fully, uncomfortably erect all the way to the turn-off to Tyler’s private access road.
“If it pleases my Mistress…” He cleared his throat, but did not completely succeed in removing the hoarse need from it. “…Who will be there this weekend? I’m new to The Zone, so I’m not as familiar with the players.”
“Tyler’s about your age, and was my mentor. He’s an erotic film producer. Not porn, not Triple X stuff. He does European erotica and Red Shoe Diary type things. A couple collaborations with Zalman King, but he feels like ZK gets too artsy, loses the erotic connection sometimes. I met Tyler at a party, and he was the one who helped me figure out what I liked from a man sexually, why I was dissatisfied so much. We hit it off right away, and later he told me that sometimes Doms just sense one another, the same sense that lets them identify a sub at twenty paces.” She pinched him lightly and he bit back a grunt of frustrated desire. Violet smiled. “At the time, I had urges, but I thought there was something wrong with me. He helped me understand about D/s, introduced me to places like The Zone. Discretion is very important to me, in the job I do, so he helped me learn to keep the two lives separate.” Mac glanced over at her. “But you don’t want to keep them separate.” She studied the horizon, appreciating how intuitive he was, but not wanting him to see he could read her that easily. “I wish they didn’t have to be kept separate. One of the rules is to keep play in The Zone, not take it out of those places.” She curled her hand under his inner thigh, increasing her grip, letting him feel the possessive need in her touch. “He also told me that once you understand the rules, then you can break them.
“I told you some about the twins already, Tamara and Kiera, T&K. They’re more than Mistresses. They’re pure Doms, through and through.” She sharpened her tone to be sure she had his full attention. “They brook no disobedience of any kind, from any slave. You might want to keep that in mind, with your reluctance to use safe words. I may not always be in the room to protect you this weekend.” His gaze snapped from the road to her briefly. “So while I’m there…they can…”
“If I tell them they can. Unless my slave wishes to tell me about any boundaries he has in that regard.”
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Mac was silent for a few moments. Violet waited.
“No, Mistress. Your pleasure is my pleasure, as I have said.” His tone was low, pained. The need to reassure him gripped at her heart, but she squelched it. He had to learn he could trust her. She continued on as if the tension in the car had not just increased threefold.
“The third Mistress is Lisbeth.”
“Lisbeth?”
“She’s not a Zone regular, but she’s a friend of Tyler’s. Her favorite haunt is a place called—”
“True Blue.”
Violet’s brows lifted and he shrugged. Uncomfortably, she noted. “She was my first Mistress. The one who started off my training, gave me the cuffs, when I ‘graduated’, as she put it.”
“Oh.” Violet digested that, glanced at his face. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“You tell me.”
Which meant maybe yes, but he wasn’t going to tell her anything he perceived she didn’t want to hear, anything that made him appear vulnerable.
“No problem for me, then.” She decided to play along, and watched the muscle in his cheek jump with tension.
Tyler’s drive ran several miles off the main road through a forest of live oaks and long leaf pines before it reached his restored antebellum plantation house. Violet put her hand back on Mac’s cock as he drove through the winding curves, working the gear shift, and her blood stirred as he automatically parted his thighs wider, accommodating her. She hummed casually to herself, registering his tension, his every involuntary shift that showed the plug was combining with her stimulation to tease him to a higher level of arousal. She suspected his apprehension served as an additional catalyst, for his cock was enormous beneath her touch. He didn’t know what to expect, how much he would be tested this weekend, how much she intended to enjoy him.
Since he didn’t seem disposed to ask any more questions, she kept up her idle stroking, squeezing and pinching as she desired in the charged silence, until it was broken by his breath rasping in his throat. He made a somewhat less than smooth turn into Tyler’s circular driveway before the house and brought the car to a stop behind a silver Jag marked with the T&K license plate.
“Violet, I can’t go in there like this.”
She arched a brow. “Are you refusing me?”
“Are you commanding me to meet your friends with a hard-on this size?” She stretched up, kissed his cheek, moved back, nibbled his ear. “Yes, slave. I am.
You’re about to meet four very powerful and experienced Doms. I’m a baby to them, and I want to impress them.” She laid her hand back on his crotch and squeezed again, earning an indrawn breath. “This is very impressive.” 73
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“Is that what this torture is about?” He sounded caught between irritation and amusement.
“No. But I think it makes you more comfortable to think so.” She rubbed her hand over him again, one hard sure stroke this time that made his hips lift to her touch before he could stop himself. He caught her wrist and they froze, looking at each other. His eyes glittered, his jaw held tense in obstinacy. She made her face blank, unreadable.
“Let go of me, Mackenzie. Now.”
He drew a deep breath, closed his eyes, and she squelched the desire to reach out, stroke his temple. Instead, she passed her thumb over the head of his cock, startlingly prominent through the denim. It was a lighter touch this time, but there, emphasizing that her interest and pleasure was to keep him visibly, painfully aroused. “Get out of the car.”