For My Master

Suz deMello

Agent Kathie Belmont has long lusted after her boss, Ross
Guerrero, but has never plucked up the courage even to flirt with him. Could he
be the strong but tender master she craves?

Ross wants Kathie in his life—and on her knees. But the
constraints of their jobs with an ultra-secret U.S. security agency have come
between them.

Until the sadistic drug-trafficker El Silencio is tempted
into a deal with Ross’ undercover persona—a deal that will go down at a BDSM
party. With Kathie disguised as his sex slave, Ross sets out to bring down the
criminal gang, and perhaps tempt Kathie into performing her role for the long
run.

The old man known as
El Silencio
presided over Sunday
lunch after church with his usual brooding taciturnity while conversation
swirled around him like the dust devils that had played in the deserts of his
childhood.
Sí
,he had come far since his first years scrabbling
to survive in the harsh Sierra Madre Mountains. He lived in a palace surrounded
by servants who groveled at his feet. Human mules carried his wares all over
the Americas, from the far north in Alaska to the tip of Chile, bringing him
more millions.

He was not about to throw it all away.

His wife, Luisa, had disagreed with him as vehemently as she
dared. “If you cut off Francisco and give the business to Reina, it will cause
strife. The children will fight.”

He’d kicked her as she cowered at his feet. “Our son
Francisco is a fangless snake, an
adicto
,without honor. Reina is
worthy, woman though she is.”

Now he watched the children through slitted eyes sunk into
withered pouches of dark flesh, feeling his years weighing his shoulders and
bending his back. He was more than ready for retirement, longing for the peace
he knew he’d find in his whitewashed villa outside Guaymas, with the view of
the ocean. He would wake every morning to that view. Only one last deal to make
with the wealthy
Americano
,and he’d be done.

When everyone had filled their plates, he pressed his hands
together and gave the blessing.

Then he leaned forward to tell them all of his decision.

Station chief Ross Guerrero tapped a pencil on his blotter
and scrutinized Kathie Belmont, seated on a straight-backed chair on the other
side of his wide, government-issue desk. A soft-faced young woman, she had the
healthy good looks of a college student or a California beach cutie, common
here in San Diego. Her mink-brown hair with tasteful gold highlights was blunt
cut at her chin, masking a strong jawline. Wide, long-lashed eyes regarded Ross
with openness and candor.

With multiple piercings in each ear and a silver toe ring
peeping from her sandal, she looked like any girl attending San Diego State,
UCSD or even Chula Vista High. In reality, Belmont was twenty-nine years old,
had graduated with honors in criminal justice from Pepperdine, then gone on to
a short but successful career as a police officer in Los Angeles. She’d joined the
U.S. Security Agency, performing well during training and in her first
assignments. Now he’d find out if she was ready for more demanding tasks.

Her appearance was as useful as her black belt and her
Glock. Living proof of the maxim “you can’t judge a book by its cover,” Agent
Belmont, who’d been orphaned as a teen, had capably cared for her two younger
siblings, fighting to keep her family together. She was as competent an
operative as any he’d encountered during his thirteen years with the agency.

“Here’s the situation.” Ross set his china espresso cup into
its saucer with a click. “There’s a group of baddies selling drugs just over
the border. Mostly steroids, but some crystal, crack, horse…you name it,
they’ve got it. Because they’re in Mexico, the usual law enforcement agencies
can’t go in.”

Her hazel eyes gleamed. “But we can.”

“Yes, we can. But there’s a twist.”

She shrugged tanned shoulders, revealed by her sleeveless
pink blouse. “Isn’t there always?”

“They run their drugs and whores out of a party house.” He
eyed her, wondering if she was up for the job. “An orgy house.”

Her brows lifted. “They still exist in the age of AIDS?”

“They do. This one is in a chi-chi area called the Zona Rio,
on the south side of the Tijuana River.” He paused, tapping the pencil on the
blotter. “I can’t go in without a woman.”

She cleared her throat. “Exactly what would this mission
entail, sir?” Her voice was crisp and professional.

Even so, Ross noted the signs of nervous excitement. A
slight sheen of perspiration between her breasts, where their tops were
displayed by the scooped neck of her shirt. She fiddled with her hair and
didn’t meet his eyes. She crossed her suntanned knees, exposed by a blue denim
miniskirt, then recrossed them, giving him a brief glimpse of pink panties. His
pulse jumped. Had she intended to flash him?

He cleared his throat. “They won’t know you understand
Spanish,” he continued. “You’d listen as well as watch my back. This is a group
of evil bastards with absolutely no morals. They’re even selling steroids to
minors, school kids with a dream of getting out of the slums as athletes.”

Her lips firmed. “Let’s get ‘em, sir.”

“Your life could depend upon unswerving obedience to
protocol. Truthfully, Belmont, I’m not sure you can do it.”

She bristled. “Why not?”

“The second-in-command is a, uh, rather unusual woman. A
Dominant in a country of submissive females. To impress her, I’d accompany you
as your submissive. Your…slave.”

Her elegant jaw dropped. “You’re shittin’ me.”

He wagged a finger at her. “Language, young lady.”

“Pardon me, sir.” She shut her mouth with an audible snap,
then said, “Is this plan sanctioned by HQ?”

He evaded the question, saying, “You know that they give me
considerable latitude.”

Her eyes narrowed. “In other words, no, but you think you
can get away with it.”

He smiled.

“Why me?” Her intelligent gaze shone from a face vivid with
curiosity.

“You’re smart and tough. You’re used to giving orders, the
way you did to keep your family together.”

Her chuckle was rueful. “Confidentially, sir, you have no
idea how much that took out of me.”

He shrugged. “The USSA is demanding. And this mission will
take a lot out of both of us. Do you think this will be easy for me?”

“I don’t know.” Her gaze stroked him again, still brimful of
curiosity, though now the curiosity was tinctured with something else.
Something more.

Sexual curiosity. She wanted to know what he was really
like, at a very basic level. Or so he hoped.

“Would it be easy for you to be…submissive?” she asked. “Is
that who you truly are?”

“No, but if I have to, I can fake it. Can you be dominant?”

She bit her lip, her eyes dropping. Her whisper was
incoherent.

“Speak up,” he said. “If you’re going to run this, run me,
you have to state your orders and commands clearly.”

She raised her chin, and her eyes sparkled. Were those
tears?

She drew a shaky breath. “You know I’d do anything for y—
the agency.”

Had she been about to say, “I’d do anything for
you?”
Desire tightened his balls.

“But I don’t know if I can be something I’m not,” she went
on. “I can manage situations, yes, and run any mission you choose. But acting
like a sexual dominant…” She shook her head. “That’s not me. I’m afraid I’d
blow our cover and get us both killed.”

He hesitated. The only other option involved possible abuse
of his authority, but the mission was paramount. On the other hand…

“W-what about reversing our roles?” She broke into his
thoughts.

Had she read his mind?

But he had to be sure. “You mean, I’d dominate you?”

She swallowed audibly. “Yes.”

A long pause ensued while he wondered if he’d fallen into
his favorite fantasy. Finally, he managed to speak. “That could work.”

He walked around the barrier of his desk and knelt next to
her chair. His face was now level with hers, and he focused on her eyes—her wide,
nervous, expectant eyes. He read fear there as well as blatant feminine
curiosity.

He’d have her exactly the way he wanted, but he’d have to
take care. A single wrong move and she’d bolt.

Ross leaned closer, inhaling her perfume, a fresh, bright
scent he didn’t recognize but which suited her perfectly. He let his lips brush
her neck and watched the tiny hairs shift in subtle response. “I could do that,
but can you? Can you give me unswerving obedience?” he murmured into her ear
before nipping the lobe.

She gasped and he chuckled. “Just let go, Belmont. Just…let
go.”

She turned her head to shoot him a steady look from those
compelling hazel eyes. This time, their gazes met and clashed. Her eyes were
bold, unflinching, utterly unafraid. That surprised him, but Belmont often
surprised him. It was hard to remember that her naïve façade hid a smart, savvy
agent.

He respected her competence and admired her beauty. Now he’d
enjoy bending her to his will.

* * * * *

How had she dared?

Kathie had lusted after her boss since she’d been assigned
to the San Diego field office. She’d longed for him to see her as a woman,
dreamed of him at night, fantasized that he was the strong but loving master
she craved in the secret corners of her soul. When she played with herself, she
imagined that Ross’ fingers tugged her clit and probed her pussy, wrenching
orgasm after orgasm from her willing body. When she coated a dildo with lube
and thrust it slowly into her backside, she prayed that one day Ross would open
her ass with his cock to fuck her mindless.

And now he needed submission. Her consent to whatever he
desired. Unswerving obedience. Only in connection with the mission, yes, but if
he was the one man she sought, it could last forever.

She held his gaze. “Try me…master.”

The room was silent except for their ragged breaths.

“Very well.” He stood in one smooth movement. Though an
agency veteran, Ross Guerrero hadn’t grown soft. A blue Oxford cloth shirt, the
sleeves rolled up to the elbows, showed brawny forearms sprinkled with dark
hair. Khaki Dockers flattered his taut form. “Lock the door,” he said.

Rising, she complied, then turned to face him.

“Kneel,” he commanded.

A thrill ran through her. She was aware she was crossing a
boundary into unknown territory.

She obeyed. Her eyes were level with his rapidly hardening
cock, its ridge visible even through the fabric of his trousers.

“Kiss my feet.”

She leaned forward, her forearms caging his brown loafers.
She pressed her left cheek against one sock-clad ankle and closed her eyes,
basking in the moment.
At last.
She kissed the instep, then moved to his
other foot, repeating the ritual.

“Very good.”

Already she was deeply aroused and his approval warmed her
even more. Kneeling, crouched, with her butt thrust out of her short skirt, her
pussy covered only by thong panties, she was wonderfully exposed to him.

She wanted him to take her then and there. But wouldn’t
waiting be better? The experience would unfurl slowly, lusciously, so she could
revel in every sweet second.

She wanted him to decide so she wouldn’t have to.

He walked behind her. “Touch your forehead to the ground and
raise your ass up high.”

Her pussy clenched, her clit twitching with want. She
obeyed, nails digging into the thin carpet. Desire spiraled through her, an addictive,
sweet heat.

He set one loafered foot inside her left calf and used the
other to kick out her right ankle. “Spread your legs wider.”

With the thong little concealment, she knew he could see her
secret flesh from ass crack to clit. She wiggled her butt a little, proud to
display herself for him. Her slit gaped open, begging without words for his
rigid cock to enter her, make her his.

Fingers caressed her silk-clad pussy. She panted and
clenched her thighs together, needing the extra stimulation, needing to come.

“No.” He slapped her ass with a stinging spank. She drew in
a sobbing breath, tears starting in her eyes from sheer emotion.

He was the embodiment of all her dreams.

Two hands palmed her butt cheeks, squeezed and parted,
opening her wider. Her pussy juices tickled maddeningly as they slid from her
opening and she shuddered, arousal leaching strength from her limbs.

“You’ll have to shave.” He tweaked one of the sparse hairs
near her anus.

She blushed, embarrassed. Had she pleased him or not?

“Take care of that tonight,” he said.

“What?”

He ran his fingers along her furrow and tugged her muff. She
lit up like a flare.

“Shave all of this off,” he said. “You may stand.”

Shaky, she got to her feet while he returned to his desk to
scribble a note. “Go to this address at ten o’clock tomorrow. We’ll start
training there.” He handed her the paper. “We have to move on this quickly,
Belmont, so be on your toes.”

“What should I bring, sir?”

“Not much. Toiletries, makeup, your sexiest shoes. I’ll
supply everything else.”

* * * * *

The address Ross provided was a charming, Craftsman-style
home in La Jolla, just a few blocks from the beach. Kathie parked and grabbed
her bag, stuffed with spike-heeled pumps and boots along with toiletries and
makeup, everything from glittery eye-shadow to softer blushers.

What would happen today?
The situation heightened her
awareness. Her skin unbearably sensitive, she’d gone commando, so the sea
breeze teasing her naked pussy aroused her. Even the skirt of her yellow
sundress swirling around her thighs turned her on.

Her heeled sandals clattered as she walked up a slate path
to wooden double doors with insets of etched glass. She sucked in a breath. Was
this Ross’ home? Likely, since his car was parked in the open garage.

She knocked. After breathless seconds passed, he opened the
door, clad casually in denim shorts and a muscle T. She’d never seen so much of
Ross before. She let her gaze trail from his chin, dark with stubble, down his
throat to his chest. Solid pecs bulged beneath the T-shirt. His belly looked
flatter than Kansas and his legs showed that he worked out regularly.

He was hot, just as she’d guessed. Every muscle she could
see was developed, hard, ready for action.

His dark eyes raked her from top to toe and her breath stuck
in her throat. Did she please him? She wasn’t big on top, but her yellow dress,
with narrow straps holding up a snug, white-trimmed bodice, made the most of
her assets. The cotton dress skimmed her waist and flared at the hips, its
short skirt showing off her tanned legs in sexy, heeled sandals.

Her nipples hardened beneath his gaze. They rasped against
the piqué trim, increasing her heat, her need.

Then his smile hit her with the same power it had packed the
first time they’d met. More than ever, she was sure they were fated to be
together.

He pulled her inside the threshold and kicked the door shut
with a bare foot. It slammed just before he kissed her.

Soft and strong…his mouth was so soft, but there was no
mistaking the strength underlying his tenderness. Her master wasn’t afraid to
show his gentler side, though he took what he wanted, parting her lips with
his, entering her with his tongue, not with force but with a flirtatious flick
that teased and tempted.

She gave in to the temptation he offered. Assured but
without brutality, he made her his with each caress of his chiseled lips, each
stroke of his tongue. She moaned and cuddled deeper into his embrace, reveling
in the sensations. The strength of his touch. His aroma, reminding her of the sea
wind with a little something extra she couldn’t identify. His flavor, spicy and
sweet, overlaid with the espresso she knew he adored. And he kissed her as
though nothing else in the world mattered or even existed but their mouths
exploring, their tongues twining in a seductive dance that would have only one
end.