Mistress of Redemption (26 page)

she fondled him, wrapping her fist

around his cock. “You could never

surrender yourself, never give

yourself so wholly over to a

Mistress’s pleasure.”

She touched the thigh of the other

man, standing on the opposite side of

her. “Get me wet with your mouth,”

she purred the command. “I want to

straddle that big cock of yours.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He moved to obey.

Nathan watched, furious and

confused, as the man knelt. The man

waited for her to drape her legs

gracefully on his shoulders and then

he tore the crotch of the pants with

one powerful movement that made

her gasp.

When he put his lips to work, Dona

arched against the loveseat, her

mouth opening in pleasure.

“Working you up has gotten me so

hot,” she said, her voice catching,

lips curving in a smile of self-

absorbed pleasure. “We’re entitled

to our coffee breaks down here, you

know. When it serves a purpose.”

In the world he’d left, if a Mistress

introduced such a measure into the

game, he’d counter it with a strategy

of his own. Sulking petulance or

feigned jealousy, whatever suited the

purpose of making her think she was

able to manipulate his emotions.

As she arched the man became more

enthusiastic, his head moving

between her legs, his muscular back

rippling. The other man spread open

the corset and framed her 101

Joey W. Hill

full breasts in his hands before

moving to suckle her nipples. Nathan

felt the heat of her response like a

wave encompassing him.

He didn’t want to watch other men

pleasure his Mistress, but she was

right.

Darkness held him, seeking her

desire only as a way to control her.

Desolately, he realized he hadn’t

earned the right to do what these men

were doing. With them she could lose

herself in that haze that women found

from just the simplest of touches upon

their much more sensitized skin.

He wanted to do that for her, wanted

to discover what minute changes of

position would drive her higher,

bring her to a climax so elevated it

would shatter them both.

Something entered into his conflicting

feelings at this moment like a new

flavor of wine he’d never tried

before, bitter and sweet both, the

kind of taste one kept drinking even

as he wondered if he liked it.

Despite the fact he was undeserving,

he found himself straining against his

bonds, needing her to know, wanting

her to see.

Her lips parted, tongue coming out to

stroke them in a way he wanted to

emulate.

Her eyes were heavy-lidded when

they focused on him. The flare in her

eyes hit him like a punch in the gut.

Her pleasure was being driven by

him watching. The click of that

connection eased the barbed wire

around his heart, but not the aching

lust, the fury to drive them away and

serve her alone. Her desire was

obviously rising as he raged against

his chains, her eyes sliding over the

slick bunched muscles in his

shoulders and thighs as he tried to

free himself. Curving up again into

the blond’s face, she moaned as he

apparently thrust his tongue more

deeply inside her.

“Oh…Nathan…” When she

murmured his name, he wanted to

weep. “You please

your Mistress so much.” Her voice

drifted off and came back. “The look

in your eyes, wanting me so much.

You understand that’s up to me, don’t

you? That’s what submission is

about. Your Mistress knows how to

please you. Your cock is so hard

right now. I can see it from here.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he groaned, as if her

attention had physically clamped

around it like her fist. “God…please,

let me…”

“Your Mistress wants to fuck you.

Wants to be fucked by you. But you

have something to face first.”

He shook his head. No.
No
. But even

as he rejected it, he knew his

capitulation was inevitable. He’d do

anything for her if she asked it like

this and she knew it. Women had

tried to manipulate him before, but

this wasn’t that. As his Mistress,

Dona was demanding that he face

what he didn’t want to face. He had

no choice but to do it, because he had

to obey her. His heart told him he

did.

Dropping to one knee, he bowed his

head in surrender.

“Yes,” he whispered. And

shuddered.

102

Mistress of Redemption

Chapter Ten

There was some pleasure in the fact

that Yin and Yang went away like a

puff of smoke the moment he

acquiesced. There was little pleasure

in what came next. His Mistress,

laced back in her armor, circling him

the way the mirrors were doing, the

images of Eliza stalking him.

As mouthwatering and sexy as the

outfit was designed to be, something

deeper in his soul than lust had

wanted to see Dona unadorned by

anything but her own lovely skin.

Unshielded as he felt at this moment.

“She loved you so much. You wanted

to love her. So desperately.”

Nathan stared at the pretty young

face, the tiny hoop earrings in her

lobes, the careful application of

makeup. A girl becoming a woman

with cautious steps.

He wanted to touch her face and

suddenly he could, or at least his

hands were free to touch the surface

of the glass. It gave way beneath his

touch, almost like the softness of

skin.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her. If I

could…” He closed his hand into a

fist, pulled it away. “It doesn’t

matter. I can’t.”

“No, you can’t. It does matter,

though. True regret and remorse can

be powerful catalysts for change.”

He turned to find Dona, but she had

an annoying way of being out of his

view when she wanted him to focus

on something else. All he saw were

more mirrors.

“She loved you so much that you

thought she was weak.”

The images began chasing one

another through all the mirrors,

above, below, all around. Showing

him things he didn’t want to see.

“She wasn’t weak.”

“No,” Dona agreed. “She was a

young girl in love for the first time,

confused by her hormones and

feelings, a girl who got herself

involved with a boy who already

knew how to hustle and outmaneuver

women three times his age. You

didn’t believe in her devotion. It

fascinated and sickened you. So you

started rebelling against it in small

ways, testing it. Seeing if it was real,

this phenomenon you’d never

experienced. You weren’t merciful

enough to cut her loose. You wanted

what she had to offer even though you

didn’t understand it. Evil fears what

it doesn’t understand. If it can’t prove

it a lie, it destroys it and calls it

weak.”

He wanted to look away, but

invisible hands that felt like reptilian

skin clamped down on his head and

neck. Making him turn from one

image to another, his body unable to

move on its own, a marionette.

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Joey W. Hill

Dona walked before the panel of

mirrors, her fingers traveling along

the base of the glass, her head tilted

up, watching, though he had the odd

feeling she was able to see his face at

the same moment she was watching

the scenes play out around them,

shaming him before her. The women

he had been with did not know this

side of him until he allowed them to

know. She knew it all, was watching

it with him. That made it worse.

“First, it was typical things,” Dona

continued. “Telling her you’d call her

and not doing so deliberately.

Canceling a date at the last moment

and then making sure she saw you

somewhere having fun without her.

Just when she was hurt and angry

enough to break up with you, you’d

come back with a smooth move that

usually takes men years to learn.

Showing up at her door unexpectedly

with a planned picnic, or bringing her

flowers during a class where all her

friends would see. That little pendant

you bought her with the unicorn

etched on it. Taking her on a bus to

the equestrian championship.”

“She loved horses,” he murmured.

“Yes. She treasured that day,

probably because she sensed how

much you

genuinely enjoyed it, surprising

yourself. You honed your best

seduction skills on her, Jonathan.

With your foster mothers, you learned

to manipulate and deceive using their

weaknesses of character. With Eliza,

you learned how to turn a woman’s

greatest strength into her greatest

liability. Her capacity to love. She

was your experiment, teaching you

how far you could push a woman’s

love to breaking point and then reel

her back in. As if you were the

ultimate deep-sea fisherman of love.”

She drew out the syllables, mocking

him now. Nathan clenched his teeth.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Most of it was, yes. There were

parts that weren’t. Like here.” The

image in the mirror froze and he was

looking at himself at the

championship with Eliza. She was

watching the winning horse complete

a jump, her eyes shiny with

amazement, absorbed in the beauty of

the animal and rider. She was lost in

a young girl’s dream that it could be

her on that horse, making those

jumps, becoming something more

than she’d expected to be. He leaned

back in his seat while she leaned

forward, his seventeen-year-old self

just as captivated by her, for virtually

the same reason.

“It freaked you out, big time, how you

felt that day. After that, your games

got worse. Your tests more intense.

Hot one day, cold the next, you went

from fisherman to orchestra maestro,

learning to make her emotions

perform the composition you

wished.” Dona turned, cocked her

head. “You successfully graduated

into a sexual predator at seventeen.

That’s very impressive.”

“Are you done yet?” He tried to

sound angry, unaffected, but he

thought he was going to go insane if

he had to watch the images another

moment. His muscles were trembling

at the effort to loose the invisible

bindings which were once again

thwarting his overwhelming need to

look away.

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Mistress of Redemption

“Not even close, apparently.” She

turned her attention back to the

mirrors. “She entered her junior year

an entirely different girl. Nervous,

high-strung, completely dependent on

you. When you told her to get on her

knees and suck off one of your so-

called friends at a party on a bet, she

didn’t even hesitate, though she cried

the whole time. They thought it was

just her eyes watering from the size

of his dick, but you knew.”

The image came up, stark and brutal,

the football player’s meaty hand on

her delicate head, fingers curled in

her hair. Jonathan sat in the

background watching, acknowledging

the ribald jokes of his friends egging

her on like it was a beer-chugging

competition. Calls of “me next” were

being mouthed.

“Stop…” He strangled it out, fought

the restraint with real fervor. Dona

appeared next to him in that quick

blink of reality that seemed to staple

time together and erase transitions,

making everything more intense. Her

fingers curled in his ear, pinched, her

voice a hiss.

“We’re not stopping. Not until it’s

enough. One of the most important

parts of punishment is reliving your

crimes with complete awareness.

The soldiers that decapitated

children in Rwanda, it drives them

mad to understand the depths of their

own barbarity. Down here, insanity

isn’t a defense. It’s not even original.

Look and tell me why you shouldn’t

receive the most severe punishment

possible for doing this to a girl

whose only crime was loving you?”

She turned on her heel, went back to

the mirrors. He watched the

horrifying scene play out as Eliza

was passed to two other boys to

perform the same act. While he

couldn’t stop the flow of images, it

didn’t stop him from wishing it.

Wishing he didn’t feel every word

Dona had said in his gut like a knife

wound, bleeding truth.

“That was the first weekend she tried

to kill herself. Her parents never