Slave to Love (42 page)

Cody strolled past him and took up a position near the stage, doing a double-take when he realized it was Lauren up there. He shot Mick a considering glance.

Onstage, the moaning grew louder.

“I’d love to be the meat in that sandwich,” a raspy voice sounded behind him.

Mick turned and saw Rick—Smythe—watching Lauren and her partner going at it. Smythe’s eyes had a peculiar, glazed sheen to them. Mick felt Caro creep around behind him, putting his body between her and the security guard. Mick gripped her leash tightly. As if that could protect her.

“Not my thing,” he said, and shrugged casually. Carefully testing the other man’s reaction. “I only want my woman to think about fucking one person. Me.”

Lauren and her partner started panting and moaning loudly, their bodies writhing against each other as they approached climax.

“There’s something almost pure about two women doing it,” Smythe said, the expression on his face anything but chaste.

Mick jerked to look closer at the man. It was sickening. He could now see the make-up Caro had pointed out, beaded and oily from hours of lust and excitement, and the slack underlying features it altered and sharpened. Why hadn’t he seen it before?

“Pure?” Mick said with a sneer. “Those bitches? They just need a strong hand and a big cock to teach them what they really like.”

Smythe stabbed him with a glare. He didn’t say anything, but hostility rolled off the other man’s stiff body in waves; Smythe’s eyes narrowed, his quivering hands fisted at his sides. Like he was starting to lose control.

Hopefully it wouldn’t be too difficult to push the man over the edge and get a reaction.
But would it be the right reaction
? That was the one thing he hadn’t quite figured out.

Mick yanked at Caro’s leash, forcing her from her hiding place to stand in front of him. “Are you frustrated little slave? Do you want to come?”

Her gaze darted nervously between him and Smythe. “Yes, please. Sir,” she murmured.

The two women on stage collapsed with their final cries of orgasm.

“Good. It looks like the stage is about to be free.”

She watched uneasily as several men gathered around Lauren and her partner and lifted them down into the audience where they were deposited into waiting masculine laps.

Mick turned to her and gave her a smile that brooked no protest. “Come on, baby. It’s time.”

***

Caro swallowed silently and looked up at the now-empty stage, taking in the rapacious male audience searching the room for the next entertainment to present itself. She whimpered softly as Mick put a firm hand to her backside and pushed her forward.

For some inexplicable reason she was suddenly nervous.

And for the first time a little bit frightened of what might happen.

He started the vibrator again. Her clit danced in pleasure and anticipation.

“Please, no,” she whispered, fighting against her fear, trying to get her rebellious body and skittering emotions in check. Wondering what he would choose to do to her up on that stage. She knew he wouldn’t hurt or humiliate her, but she also knew whatever he had in mind would be something explosive and unexpected. Something that would push her to the limit.

It had to be, to spring their trap.

She broke out in a cold sweat, her fear of the Teddie Killer getting all mixed up with the vulnerability of being naked and carnally used in front of a hundred men, the helplessness of not being in control of her own body, and the merciless sexual fever Mick inflamed within her just with a touch. Her whole nether regions throbbed and pulsed from sexual frustration and the humming device buried within her.

Or maybe she was shaking with terror.

In this moment, everything that had happened over the past week came together in frightening symmetry. The case, her career, her relationship with Mick, her acceptance of her own sexual nature.

She hesitated, suddenly afraid to take that final step into the dark unknown.

“Get on the stage,” Mick ordered. His voice was soft, but his determination palpable. She
would
obey him. It was all she needed.

Mick leapt onto the platform and pulled her up, and gave her a kiss, demanding her undivided attention. Then he turned her to face the audience.

His arms held her up as his hands smoothed over her body for all to view. She squeezed her eyes shut against the sight of Smythe, Bobby, Cody and Tim, all there in the room, all watching her.

She was rewarded with a sharp slap on the rear.

“Eyes open!” Mick commanded as he enveloped her breasts and squeezed.

Relax , she ordered herself. And obeyed.

Mick understood her sexual needs better than she did herself. He’d been proving that since their first night together. She had only to block out everything but him, to give herself over to his will, and she would be liberated, gifted with untold pleasures—along with breaking the case if they were lucky.

His fingers pinched at her nipples, skimmed over the ultra-sensitized skin of her abdomen, dropped to probe the drenched folds between her legs. Dozens of eyes followed raptly. She moaned, excitement flooding through her in hot waves. She moved against the pad of Mick’s finger, clenching at the inner buzzing, straining for the sweet shining explosion that hovered just out of reach.

So close,
so close
.

Suddenly her eyes collided with Bobby’s. They were burning hot and glittering, and locked on hers, not on what was going on between her thighs. She swallowed, panting now.

Mick’s long finger slid into her, and out again, circling her need. She pushed herself toward it, craving its sweet bliss.
Its drugging forgetfulness
. All the while Bobby’s dark, possessive eyes never left hers.
He wanted her, too
.

She wrenched her gaze to the other men watching her, among them Cody and Tim, and saw their lust, as well. The intimate stroking of their heated gazes between her legs felt as vivid as Mick’s finger on her flesh.

They wanted her.

Every last one of them. They would do anything to be the man touching her. Instinctively, she knew that.

And suddenly she understood the enormous, seductive power of submission. By letting go her darkest fears and yielding to her most elemental fantasies, she could fulfill Mick’s deepest fantasies, too, and those of all these other men watching.

She. Caro.

Mick thought he was in control. But he wasn’t. Each time he commanded her to obey, he ceded control to her. For that single moment in time, she wielded a potentially greater power over every one of these men than she could ever imagine possible.

All because of what Mick had taught her.

Peace descended over her as she slowly released her fears.

Abruptly, Mick spun her around, glaring down at her with jealousy blazing from every pore.

She gasped in shock.

“Please, Mick,” she whispered starkly. Her body was a mass of stinging nerve-endings, all clamoring for him. Just one fleeting brush of his fingers would send her to paradise. She wrapped her arms around him, rubbing her body against his. “I can’t stand it any more. Make me come.”

He looked down at her, his eyes shimmering like heat on pavement. “How?”

“However you wish.”

“You’ll do as I say?”

“Anything.”

And it was true. She would do anything he asked of her. Anything at all, to prove her total surrender.

She didn’t care about their audience, or Bobby, or even Smythe. Let Mick worry about all that. All she wanted was to lay herself bare before him. To accept his will as her own. To be his vessel.

For in her submission came her strength.

He traced a finger along her cheek and smiled. A smile of conquest. A smile of ownership. A smile that contained her past, present and future.

And then he softly issued the order that changed everything. That made her his, forever.

“If that’s true,” he said, “call me Master."

Chapter 28

“Master,” Caro whispered, and Mick felt a rush of emotion so strong he nearly fell to his knees.

Finally.

He’d become her true Master. Not for the case, or in fantasy play. This time for real. He saw the truth of it in her eyes. He felt the impact of it in her quaking body leaning against his for support.

His whole being screamed out a warning. This was the worst thing that could have happened.

But he would not relinquish her submission.

Regardless of the consequences,
he would not
.

So be it. If he was to have a chance at happiness, at a normal life, he had no choice. The events he’d set in motion must be fulfilled at any cost.
Tonight
.

“You please me,” he whispered. “So much.”

He pulled her close and sealed their new status with a long kiss. He tasted champagne and traces of himself in her mouth, sweet and strong and salty, and remembered all she had done for him, all she had learned from him over the past days. As well as the trust she had in him. He felt a surge of protectiveness for her that hit him right in the gut.

Now.

He must spring his trap now. Before he lost the nerve. Before he could think about what might go wrong. Before he started doubting his true objective in all this.

He could feel the disturbance in the atmosphere caused by Smythe’s open hostility, standing there in front of the stage. Whatever Smythe’s trigger was, he and Caro were getting damn close to pulling it. And not a minute too soon.

He wanted this over and done with.

One way or another.

“Say it again,” he commanded her, louder this time so all could hear.

“Master,” she responded, tightening her grip on his fingers.

He pinned her with a look. “You belong to me now, body and soul.”

“I am yours completely,” she said tremulously. “I have no will, no thoughts save those you give me.”

With his fingers he grasped her chin and kissed her. Thrust his tongue between her sweet lips and claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss for the crowd. She threw her arms around his neck, pulled herself up to meet him. Rubbed herself against him like an adoring cat.

Reaching for control, he set her away.

It was getting late and the party was in full swing, the whole upstairs area dense with people. Glancing around, the women he could see were all naked, serving as slaves to one or several men, some of whom had also shed their clothes. The scent of sex was thick in the air.

Smythe continued his scornful survey from his place at the edge of the stage. From a nearby chair, Bobby watched the show with narrowed eyes, darting an occasional glance at Smythe. In the middle of the throng, Cody stood with a naked woman hanging onto his arm. He’d lost his tie somewhere and several shirt buttons were undone. Trying to be casual but not quite achieving it, he observed Caro like a man obsessed. Woodruff leaned against a back wall, his expression more circumspect, his hawk-like eyes fixed firmly on Mick.

Good. All the relevant players accounted for. Well, most of them. But the other would turn up in time. He’d bet his life on it.

Mick ran a hand over Caro’s lovely curves, gathering himself for the coming ordeal.

“So, what shall I do with you, little slave? Now that you are so motivated to please me?”

“Anything, Master,” she softly murmured, slanting him doe eyes, “Anything for your pleasure.”

He had a sudden, gnawing need to please her, to fulfill her most hidden, powerful fantasy. One she wouldn’t ever admit, even to herself. So she would be forever in his thrall, as he was in hers.

He thought for a moment, searching for just the right one. And then it came to him.

Inwardly, he smiled. And knew exactly what he must do.

“Don’t move,” he said.

She nodded obediently.

He whirled and pointed a finger first at Bobby, then at Cody. “You! And you! I see how you’re watching my woman.”

Stunned at being singled out, they stared at him agape.

“Get up here on stage!” Mick shouted at them. “Now!”

For a second they just stood there, then their mouths clapped shut, as if they both suddenly remembered who they were and why they were there.

Cody was first onto the platform, followed by a more reticent Bobby. “What’s going on?” he whispered under his breath.

“Just do as I say,” Mick murmured back.

Caro was also in shock. She took an involuntary step backward as the three men turned to her.

“I said don’t move!” he snapped, and she hastily retraced her step. But she looked wide-eyed from Cody to Bobby. He could just imagine what was going through her head.

She had no idea.

He pointed at Cody. “You! Stand over there.” He indicated a place to the right and just forward of the slim wooden dance pole anchored in the middle of the stage. About the thickness of a muscular forearm, the pole was beautifully carved, resembling a post from a four-poster bed.

“And you,” he ordered Bobby, “Over here.” He pointed to the left side of the pole.

Then he picked up Caro’s leash and smiled at her. As beneficent a smile as he could conjure up. A saintly smile. Like the smile a minister might use on a young girl.

She balked when he led her toward the pole—the first time that night he’d felt true resistance from her.

“Grab the post,” he ordered.

Her face drained of color. He could almost hear the thunder of her heart as the silent crowd held its breath.

“Mick?”

“Master!” he barked, and pulled at her leash, forcing her to the pole with her back to the audience.

She shook her head. “No, Master. Please.”

“You heard me! Bend over and grab the post, slave caroline. Bend over!”

She gave her head a shake. A little one, like it was an involuntary reflex rather than deliberate. She looked at the wooden pole with wide, frightened eyes, then back at him. Her mouth worked but no words came out.

“Shall I help you?”

Deliberately, inexorably, he pulled the leash downward, bending her over even as she fought him. He guided her hands to the post, which they grabbed onto like a piece of flotsam in a tidal wave, hugging it close to her cheek. Whipping open his kit bag, he extracted two orange silk scarves, depositing one in his tux pocket and tying her wrists firmly in place with the other.

In this bowed pose, her naked ass was artfully displayed to the audience. With a toe he pushed her high heels wide apart, giving them an even better view. Her knees shook and her ankles quivered as she struggled against the bonds keeping her thus.

Unable to resist, he smoothed a hand over her bottom, feeling every delectable inch of its lush curves. Building his anticipation. And hers. He felt a quiver purl through her body.

The crowd pressed closer, already suspecting his next move. Bobby and Cody shifted on their feet.

“Do you know what will happen now?” he asked her.

“No,” she said in weak, tremulous tones.

“Liar,” he said silkily, and gave her ass a hard, sharp smack. She gasped, but he saw her cunt unfurl, pink and glistening like a dew-laden blossom. He slowly drew his index finger along the hot valley between its petals, gathering her sweet nectar, feeling the scorching heat of her flesh. He paused on her clit and gave it a fleeting caress. She writhed and the audience rumbled its approval.

“Now, tell me what your Master has in mind for you.”

He turned off the vibrator still embedded in her back passage. She gave a small moan and her bottom clenched. He knew she was feeling the sudden absence of sensation like a sailor who’d been thrust into the eye of a hurricane. Waiting, terrified, knowing what followed would be ten times more powerful and devastating than what came before.

He pushed his finger deep inside her, all the way to her womb. Her muscles clamped around him, desperately trying to hold him there. He withdrew it and brought his hand down on her ass with a loud smack.

“Answer me, woman!”

“A spanking!” she blurted out.

“What?” he demanded, wanting her to repeat the dreaded word. To feel it to her toes.

“Say it so everyone can hear!”

“A spanking,” she said loud enough to echo off the windows and walls.

A predatory growl reverberated through male throats all around them, followed by a pulsing silence. They pressed in closer still, jockeying for a good view. Woodruff had pushed his way to the stage and was now gripping its edge with tense fingers. Smythe hadn’t budged. He stood stone-like in front, his face shuttered and dripping sweat.

“That’s right,” Mick told Caro soothingly. “And do you know who is going to give you this spanking?”

“You, Master.”

“No. Not me.” He turned his gaze first to a stunned Bobby then to a smiling Cody, and said, “You’re to be spanked by the men you dared flirt with.”

She let out another gasp and tried to straighten. “I didn’t—”

But her bonds held fast.

“Silence!” Mick roared.

He walked around the pole and stood facing the other men and the audience so he was in front of her so his own hard-on was all she could see.

She tilted her head and peered up at him, catching her lush lower lip between her teeth. Her face was shamelessly sensual—and flushed with guilty expectation. He wanted to bury himself in that look.

Instead, he reached into his pocket and withdrew the other scarf. Wordlessly, he ignored the tiny mewl of alarm that skittered from her lips as he tied it securely over her eyes.

“Gentlemen.” He motioned to Bobby and Cody to take their places beside her up-tilted ass.

They both looked blissfully scandalized—and about to cream their pants. They obviously had no idea if this was all just an outrageous act on Mick’s part, playing a role to lure the suspect into their trap, or if Mick had gone over the edge for real this time. They glanced at each other and Mick saw the exact moment Bobby decided to play along. Cody, of course, he’d had from the start.

Caro trembled like a leaf, but didn’t utter a protest.

Accepting her silence as consent, the two men took up positions by her hips. Mick allowed himself a grim inward smile. Both men’s erections jutted out like long pokers in their tux pants. What was it about having a woman in your physical power that turned even the most enlightened male into a caveman?

“Twenty strokes,” Mick ordered, moving in closer to her, so she could smell him, even if she couldn’t see him.

He gave the signal.

The first stroke was just a tap. She squeaked. Mick gave her punishers a disgusted look.

“Harder,” he commanded. “She likes it hard. Start over!”

Bobby looked dubious, but Cody’s lip curled up. He flexed his fingers, catching the excitement of the crowd.

Together they brought their hands down.

Though he could tell it was still not particularly hard, the sound of the smack rang through the room like a shot.

Caro cried out, and clutched the post tighter.

“Nhh!” she cried at the next stroke.

By the fourth spank she was breathing hard with her exclamation, and on the sixth she gasped loudly. At eight she groaned and panted. Her face glowed rosy pink under the orange scarf, and her backside was by now bright red.

On the tenth stroke Mick reached down and grasped her breasts. He squeezed her nipples just as the other men spanked her. She gave a strangled shout. The crowd grunted with lust. Cody looked like he was going to come any second.

So did Caro.

She sucked in a moaning breath, barely recovering from one before the next slap came. Mick squeezed again as the hands came down. She bucked.

Bobby and Cody increased their speed, caught up in the fevered contagion of Domination.