Diablo Blanco Club: Unfair Advantage (18 page)

Shifting his hold from her hands and sex to her hips, he pulled her back just enough so she couldn’t gain purchase on the bedding. With her legs already spread to accommodate him, he thrust his hips into hers, butting up against the solid base of the plug and pressing it deep. Mattie cried out, incoherent mutterings, as Bryce shifted away, releasing the pressure before he moved forward again.

This time her words weren’t muffled by the bedding. Twisting her head to look back at him over her shoulder, Mattie demanded in a hoarse, passionate voice, “Harder.”

Her body tried moving backward toward him, but the way he had her stretched across the mattress, she had no leverage to work with. Leaning forward, his hips grinding hers into the soft duvet and firm mattress beneath, he growled, “What, baby?”

“Oh God, please, harder, Bryce,” Mattie sobbed, trying to press back against him.

Again he controlled her body, keeping her from shifting away or toward him.

“Like this?” he taunted. Using the ridge of his swollen cock and the thick fold of material over the zipper of his jeans, he was able to shift the base of the plug while thrusting forward.

Head arched back, hands fisting over the black leather strap, Mattie sobbed, “Yes, please, more.”

Slipping one hand beneath her again, he found her swollen wet petals and parted them, exposing the taut kernel of nerves hidden there. Against the backs of his fingers, he felt the hard bend where the mattress ended. Moving between her legs, he spread her feet and adjusted her position until that sharp edge, blunted by the covers and the suede-wrapped duvet, ground against that most sensitive bit of flesh. Bracing her in place, he rocked and circled his hips against hers, pushing and rubbing that firm point against her body until her cream coated her thighs, soaking through the denim of his jeans, and she sobbed, begging for release.

Pulling away, he deftly flipped her onto her back and spread her thighs before stepping between them. Face flushed, tears streaking her cheeks, Mattie trembled, her body quaking with arousal, desperate for the release he refused to give her permission to have. Stroking his hands slowly from her wrists to her shoulders, he soothed her, settling soft kisses against her cheeks. Licking away the salty tears coating her face before he moved to her thighs, he murmured soft reassurances to her but did nothing to reduce the need within her.

The flavor of her juices and scent of her desire filled his head, but didn’t sway him from his purpose. Spanking hadn’t worked—she enjoyed the feel of his hand or the flogger on her round ass too much. Hell, she’d intentionally thwarted his instructions a time or two in the office just to have him paddle her ass. Not that he didn’t enjoy it himself, but if she was going to submit to him, she needed to understand that some punishments were supposed to be just that—punishments. Refusing to let her come after bringing her to the edge was one of the best methods he’d found to discipline a recalcitrant sub.

Lapping up the cream coating her thighs, he moved to the nude flesh of her mound. Easing first one leg, then the other onto the bed, Bryce secured the D-rings on the ankle cuffs to the belt using the short lengths of chain he’d dropped onto the mattress. Now, spread for his pleasure, there was little his sexy little sub could do but let him play.

“You didn’t follow instructions.”

“I…I wasn’t alone,” she argued, her voice raspy as she arched toward the hand stroking her mound.

“Was your master with you?” He held her gaze, waiting for her response.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Then you didn’t follow instructions.”

Again, she refused to admit it. “I did. I wasn’t—”

The crisp sound of bare flesh on bare flesh echoed in the room as his hand landed firmly against her naked pussy with just enough force to stun rather than harm. He repeated his comment. “You didn’t follow instructions.”

The sight of his hand lifting for another strike must have been all the convincing Mattie needed, despite the way her hips arched toward him desperate for the blow to land. “Yes.” She spat through gritted teeth. “I didn’t follow instructions.”

“And?” He made sure no emotion or inflection leaked into his voice as he prompted her to respond.

“And—” Defiance and fire blazed up at him before she forced her eyelids to drift closed. “And I need”—the rebellion was still there in her eyes as she met his gaze again, but banked now, behind curiosity and need—“to be punished.”

“Yes, baby.” Bryce let his amusement slip free briefly. “You do.”

Over the next two hours he stroked or tongued her to the edge, then stopped. Giving her body time to wind down, but not enough to relax completely, he waited before starting again. Three times he brought her close to climaxing before stopping, leaving her aching, desperate to come.

No matter how she begged, cried, or pleaded, Bryce refused permission. By the third time, her eyes were glaring at him, but her words had gone silent, replaced by the steady moans and muffled cries of need.

She seemed to know satisfaction wouldn’t be given no matter how long or hard she begged. Resigned to make it through the punishment he’d chosen, Bryce had watched her utilize every possible method of relaxation or slow breathing to combat the quivering need coursing through her body. Her nipples were flushed and angry red, swollen and hard from the suckling of his mouth and the pinching of his fingers. Even the lightest puff of breath across them had her holding her breath.

Taking his time, he loosened the restraints binding her. First the chains securing her ankles close to her hips and then the strap holding her to the bed. Helping her to her feet, he set her clothes on the bed beside her. “Dress,” he ordered before he tugged his own T-shirt over his head. While he returned the belt, cuffs, and chains to the armoire, Bryce watched her careful movements in the cheval mirror beside the bathroom door.

The plug was still in place and perhaps more awkward than the one he’d removed. From the slow and steady way she bent in order to step into her thong, it was apparent she was trying to adjust to the larger toy. Leaving her to finish, Bryce stepped into the bathroom.

When he returned from cleaning the plug he’d removed, she’d barely donned her undergarments. Her breathing was unsteady, and her body swayed as she stood beside the bed trying to fit the front clasp of her bra together. Standing in front of her, Bryce eased her hands out of the way and deftly fastened the garment. “Did you enjoy your first visit to the Diablo Blanco?” he asked, wondering if she would respond with her usual fire or if the lesson he’d given her would temper her tongue.

The humor and spirit were evident in her gaze as she reached for her blouse, her gaze holding his. “Some parts of it were fun, while others were”—she paused to draw a slow breath—“enlightening.”

The trembling in her fingers made securing the buttons impossible, but again, Bryce saw to them. Shaking out her slacks, he held them so she could step into them. Pushing her hands away, Bryce eased them over her hips, his fingers taking their time to slide along her curves. As she reached to close and zip them, he stopped her. His left hand slipped inside her pants and beneath the wet silk of her panties. “Was your visit enlightening enough to remember what my five rules are?”

“Oh God, don’t,” she begged, her fingers clutching at his forearms as her head came to rest against his shoulder.

The damp lips of her pussy pulsed beneath his touch. The need trembled through her as warm cream coated his fingers. “What’s rule number one?”

“N-no other men.” She gasped, her fingers digging into his flesh at the stroke of his fingers around her clit.

“Very good. And rule number two?” He eased one digit into her sheath, fighting back his own curse at the heat and tight grip he found there.

She cleared her throat and drew a deep breath. “No…
oh
, no self-stimulation.”

Pressing deep, he waited, then eased a second finger into her. Her breath hissed out between her teeth, and she arched onto her toes, grinding her forehead into his chest with a shaky sob. Sliding his other arm around her back, he caressed her from shoulder to waist in slow, steady strokes. “Rule number…”

“Three. No restrictions on where and when you can touch me, as long as no employees are present.” Her words came out on soft puffs of air as if she fought for each one. Not waiting for him to ask, she continued, “Rule four, no orgasms without your permission. And five, use the safe word…” She shifted down, moaning as her body pulsed around the two fingers lodged within her. “Use the safe word,” Mattie repeated, “if I need to.”

Lowering his lips to her ear, Bryce whispered, “Very good, baby. But don’t come; I haven’t given you permission.” Easing his fingers out of her, he took a step back. With her gaze locked on his, he slid his wet fingers into his mouth and savored the taste of her arousal.

After licking every bit of her cream from his hand, Bryce swiftly fastened her pants and waited as she slipped her feet into her shoes. Placing a steadying arm around her waist, he led her out of the room, extinguishing the lights and locking the door behind him.

Fighting the urge to swing her up in his arms and carry her back to Pirate’s Folly, Bryce forced himself to keep one arm around her waist and take each step slowly. Descending a set of stairs with a seven-inch butt plug up your ass and a body clamoring to orgasm, he reasoned, was likely to make anyone unsteady.

There were still several patrons left in the Club as they moved toward the bar. Ben Murphy still held court, chatting and joking with Dayton Kringle as the younger man leaned on the teak bar, sipping at a squat tumbler of scotch. Mattie’s grip on his hand had him looking down at her as they neared the pair. Dipping his head toward her, he waited.

In a soft whisper, she asked, “Lyssa?”

Knowing she was concerned about her sister, Bryce looked toward Ben. “Ben,” he called. “Where’d her sister go?”

Dayton rather than Ben answered, “If you mean that cute little blonde Miss Mattie came in with, last I saw, Mike was trying to keep her from following you two.”

“I need to find her,” Mattie announced.

“I’m sure Mike is taking care of her. He’ll make sure she gets home okay.”

“But, I—”

Mattie tried to argue, but Bryce overruled her. Steering her toward the door, he reaffirmed Dayton’s assurances to her. “She’s okay, Lawrence. Let’s get you home.”

Chapter Eleven

“You can’t hide in there forever, Mattie.”

The humor in her sister’s voice had Mattie sticking her tongue out at the mahogany-paneled door. She took one last look at her reflection before exiting the private bathroom attached to her office. Mattie loved the gown, despite the unease it made her feel. Just like all of Lyssa’s unique designs, the close-fitted silk sheath enhanced her full figure. Her plump breasts and rounded hips appeared sophisticated rather than overblown above and below her narrow waist.

The fitted bodice hugged her torso while leaving her back bare to the dimples above her bottom. A built-in shelf bra supported her breasts and clear plastic straps secured the dress in place by curving over her shoulders and fastening with hidden hooks beside her breasts.

The twelve strands of faceted amber crystal beads complemented the deep burgundy silk as much as the triple row of matching beads at her throat emphasized the ballet neckline of the gown. Bare from nape to the small of her back, only the cool brush of the crystals against her skin covered her.

“I really think this is just a bit much, Lys,” Mattie hinted as she exited the bathroom.

Keen blue eyes assessed every centimeter of the gown, carefully analyzing the way the material clung to her skin. “Hmmmm.”

Mattie watched her sister’s approach. Leaning forward, she whispered, “I mean, really, Lys. I can’t even wear panties.”

“Not supposed to,” Lyssa muttered absently as she smoothed a fold before dropping to her knees to examine the slit in the skirt that allowed for smooth strides rather than hobbling her movements. Moving on to the hem, Mattie watched her sister’s blonde head bend to assure herself that none of the tiny stitches were in danger of becoming snagged in a shoe heel.

“Lyssa,” Mattie groaned as her sister rose and gave a last smoothing pat to the fabric.

Eyes filled with resolve, Lyssa met Mattie’s gaze. “Listen, tonight’s the last night, right?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve made it through seven days.” Lyssa adjusted one of the dark curls framing Mattie’s face. “Do you think you can handle the demands he’ll make?”

Remembering the events of the past week and the punishments she’d been subjected to, not to mention the arousal, Mattie nodded. “I believe so.”

“So once you’re married, if he asks…”

Mattie nodded slowly, unsure of the look in her sister’s eyes. “I’ll say yes.”

“So you might as well have a killer dress to make sure he’s paying attention.” Lyssa waggled her eyebrows.

Mattie couldn’t help but laugh. “Lys, he’s definitely paying attention.” Her smile faded, though, when her sister’s eyes moved to the necklace she’d chosen to wear. Matching dangling earrings glittered with the faceted crystals. After what they’d learned at the Diablo Blanco the night before, Mattie was more than conscious of the bare expanse of skin around her throat.

“Do you think he’ll give you a collar as well as an engagement ring?” Lyssa voiced the question Mattie had been pondering all day.

She shrugged. “I don’t think so, since I haven’t told him my decision yet.”

“Do you want him to?”

Again Mattie shrugged, but she avoided listening to the small voice inside that whispered, “yes.” Wanting to avoid any further mention of collars, Mattie asked her own question, “You aren’t staying for the party?” Her sister’s jeans and sweatshirt seemed out of place in the office. “I gave you the invitation.”

Lyssa shook her head as she gathered up the few items she’d brought on the off chance that the dress needed slight alterations. “No, I can’t stay. I have some designs to finish.”

“Lys.” Mattie watched her sister’s fingers pleat the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “You never told me what happened last night.”