In His Cuffs (23 page)

“You’re certain?”

She didn’t want to leave the comfort of his chest, the protection of his arms. “Yes, Master.”

Maggie made her way to the desk. Its surface was marred by her tears and sweat. She feared it would be worse when they were finished.

Now that he’d done his worst, broken her down, and shown her what to expect, she could manage the rest.

This one caught her thighs and she sobbed, but didn’t scream, surrendering to the agony instead of fighting it. When they’d talked about a punishment spanking, she’d told him it would be difficult for her because her Dom would be distant and remote. That wasn’t the case. She knew this deepened what they shared. The way he’d cradled her had nurtured her. This lesson, she’d never forget, even though it wasn’t the one he’d intended to deliver.

More than anything, she wanted things to be the way they had been at his house.

This was a means to make that happen. In that regard, she looked forward to having it over.

“Last one,” he told her when she offered herself to him.

He seared her, and before she’d absorbed the impact, he was there, sitting on the desk, gathering her close. “Maggie mine.”

She’d wondered if she’d hear those words again.

He kissed her forehead and swiped away her tears. “We’ll go to your place,” he said. “I’ll drive you in your car. Mine should be safe enough in the parking garage.”

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 8
^th
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.

Niles realised he knew little about her. He’d seen her around the Den for years. She was always unfailingly obedient, but she didn’t stand out. No wonder Damien continued to have her at his events.

“If you’d like to go to one of the private rooms, Sir, I’m available.”

His cock hardened. He met her gaze. Her blue eyes were wide open and she gave him a quick smile that slammed his solar plexus.
Fuck.
Why had he never noticed how attractive she was? Maybe because she wasn’t the type he usually went for.

At six feet tall, his wife had looked him in the eye when she had donned the heels he liked. She’d been runway-model thin, with deep brown eyes and raven hair styled in a sleek, no-nonsense bob.

The two women couldn’t be any more different.

Suddenly, though, the idea of bending Brandy over, making her scream his name as she came, appealed to every dominant urge. Still, he didn’t want to scene just because she had a misplaced sense of gratitude. “You owe me nothing.”

“I think you misunderstood. It was an invitation, Sir.” She linked her hands at her back.

Interesting. Brandy was well trained, a perfect sub. And if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d tucked her hands out of sight so he couldn’t see the way she was fidgeting.

“I’m afraid I was being bold,” she said, still looking at the ground.

So she was nervous, and he understood why. Though she was often summoned to the dungeon, he was certain she initiated few, if any, of the scenes. “I respect a woman who asks for what she wants.”

As he stood, he put down his glass. Brandy didn’t glance up. He placed his forefinger beneath her chin and tipped her head back.

She smelt of cinnamon with a tangy undercurrent of arousal. The spicy scent intrigued him. He’d expected something more floral, in keeping with her femininity. For the first time since Eleanor had passed, he wanted to scene for pleasure. “I accept,” he said.

Brandy smiled.

The slow, sensuous curve of her lips made something deep inside start to melt. “After you,” he said.

She scooped up his glass and started towards the main house. Her hips swayed from side to side, not in an exaggerated movement, but with natural feminine grace. He was looking forward to getting her naked.

Responding to a male instinct as old as time, he placed his fingers against the small of her back.

Gregorio, the Den’s caretaker, opened the patio doors for them.

“We’ll be availing ourselves of one of the playrooms,” Niles said.

Gregorio drew his dark eyebrows together. Obviously, he hadn’t been expecting that news.