The One Worth Finding (20 page)

He couldn’t wait a second longer or he
would implode, die in a cloud of mind-blowing, dizzying
ecstasy.

He felt the soft stretch of the
beginning invasion, the sensation of breaching when the dildo
passed the tight muscled ring, and lost all traces of rational
thought.

She had effectively limited his movements,
but he tried nonetheless, tried to impale himself on the hard
piston until she put her hands on the backs of his thighs and he
whimpered in frustration.

She pushed deeper, every stroke making
his need even stronger, and his eyes rolled back in his head when
she finally entered him to the hilt in one smooth, deep surge of
her hips, both hands pressed against his thighs to keep him from
moving.

His body was a single,
nerve-wra
cking shudder.

The first thrust sent him into
sensory overload
, his body already jerking in the heaves of a dry
orgasm.

She measured her strokes
carefully, stopping when he was about to
ejaculate, only granting snippets of
satisfaction until Aaron screamed in desperate need for stronger,
harder, more. She brushed her hand over his cock, doubling his
frustrated arousal, luring a keening wail from his throat that
rumbled in his chest. He was writhing beneath her as much as his
position allowed.

He tried to put his hands on her
buttocks to make her thrust harder, but she immediately ordered him
to put them on the mattress, where they fisted the sheets in a
pointless attempt to diffuse some of the murderous tension that
coursed through his body.

“
Trust me to take care of you,
little pet,” she cooed softly, “the longer you hold back, the
better it will feel when you let go.”

She thrust three more times, making
him cry out on every single stroke, only to pull out seconds before
he managed to come.

He cried out in frustration.

She pushed his legs from her slim
shoulders and got up with a smile. She took her time cleaning up,
discarding the strap-on, re-lubing her fingers while he lay on the
bed, desperately trying to regain control. His hard-on throbbed
like a living beast.

Tara felt hot and powerful. She knew she
was torturing him, but for the first time in eight years, she felt
truly free. The game was fun again, and her sweet sub still
responded to her with undiminished vigor. She rejoiced secretly.
She would let him have his fun before they went home tonight, and
then several times after.

Home.

She hadn’t allowed herself to think the
word for eight years. Her home had simply vanished then, leaving
her lost and without shelter. Now Aaron Harte was her home. A warm
shiver trembled behind her breastbone.

She turned and walked over to him,
naked and flushed, careful not to wipe the lube off her
fingers.

She lay down next to him, bathing in
the liquid gaze of his huge eyes.

“
My turn now, pet,” she said
softly, “remember what I taught you; rough, no flowery finesse. The
faster you make me climax, the sooner I’ll allow you to
come.”

She spread her legs slowly, and Aaron
didn’t hesitate. He pushed his hips between her thighs and slammed
inside her as hard as he could, his muscles flexing, inhaling her
pleased groan like a benediction.

He didn’t wait, didn’t doubt, just
started to thrust like a beast in rut, his still inflamed nerves
firing in nameless arousal. His cock burned with the urgent need to
come, the feeling getting worse and worse every time he surged into
her, but he didn’t dare to slow down, fighting desperately not to
come before she gave her permission.

He even picked up speed when she urged him
on by wrapping her legs around his waist, his hips slamming against
hers with every manic thrust, her sharp gasps of pleasure
fluttering against his face. He pushed up on his outstretched arms
and simply pounded her into the mattress. The sound of flesh
slapping against flesh drove him insane, especially since he was
still battling his own body not to spill.

She arched beneath him, every
movement torturous for him, but he was a good boy and obeyed,
fucking her roughly without coming although he was so, so close, so
aroused he could hardly breath
e, his cock felt as if it were catching fire in
her slick sheath, every hard thrust heightening his desperate need
until he cried out with it, cried out the exact moment he felt her
go rigid beneath him, her small frame so tense she seemed about to
snap, and suddenly her strong muscles clenched all around his
length, the fierce contractions sucking him deeper, refusing to let
him go.

He pumped into her wet,
convulsing sex, his body racked by shudders of pleasure, he felt on
the verge of losing his mind. He rode
out the wave with her, not slowing his
thrusts, fucking her so deep he felt fused to her.

She unlocked her legs behind his
back.

“
You can come now, angel,” she
whispered and at the same time he felt her hand sneak around
between his buttocks, breaching his anus with two fingers while she
rubbed his perineum, and he shot like a freight train.

His scream was so loud that she was glad
for the theme rooms’ soundproofing, but the sound felt so good,
felt perfect while he came inside her in long, sharp jets of seed,
filling her up with the sweet stuff she craved. He came as hard and
messy as she liked it, his face contorting in bone-deep ecstasy,
his body shuddering violently while he emptied himself inside
her.

When he finally collapsed, she caught
him in her arms and cuddled him against her chest, ignoring the
strain of his larger weight on her small body.

He rolled onto his side eventually,
and she pressed his face into her breasts, enjoying the gush of his
hot breath on her skin. Her hands stroked his hair, and when he
lifted his face for a hungry kiss, she indulged him.

“
Thank you, Ma’am,” he whispered
against her lips, “what can I do to please you more,
Ma’am?”

“Take me home.” She said.

Epilogue

Three months
later

It was not even eight p.m., and the
Dragon’s Lair was almost completely empty.

Aaron smiled at Tara, his heart thundering
against his ribcage, the way it always did when he looked at her.
His Mistress. He was so absurdly happy it wasn’t even funny
anymore.

He still woke up every night to make sure
she was still there, but she always slept close to him, so he felt
her soft body wrapped around him as soon as he opened his eyes. His
need to feel her constantly, to reassure himself that she wouldn’t
go, told him how deep he had truly suffered when he’d come back
from Seattle. He had nightmares about her leaving him, at times
feeling like he suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. It
was getting better, though, and she did everything she could to
reassure him that she would never leave him again.

It had taken a while for her to
get
used to
his friends at the club; she’d lived her life as a recluse the last
eight years, but the Dragon’s Lair was glad to have her, since
she’d brought back everyone’s favorite sub. She’d soon started to
feel comfortable in her new surroundings.

She’d finished a new book, one that she’d
been dragging behind her like a dead weight for months. In the
safety of his embrace she could write again.

Sam liked her, constantly saying
that
”this
feisty chick” was a “tough customer”, which actually was a
compliment, coming from Sam.

Aaron drank his cocktail with a
straw, knowing Tara
found it cute when he did this; sometimes, it was his very
sweetness that prompted her to play around with him. He loved it
when she toyed with him like a cat with a mouse.

Next month, she would collar him, and he
couldn’t wait. His decade long journey, his search for love, came
to an end, and it was about time. He would marry her in the summer
(she had proposed just a few days ago) and hopefully convince her
to go off the pill immediately afterwards. She hadn’t been as
reluctant as he’d thought when he suggested it, and well, he was so
sweet (or so she kept telling him) he probably could make her do
anything by being so soft and obedient and cuddly. He wanted to
have babies with her, lots of them. Damn, he was a sappy old fool,
wasn’t he? But hell, he liked it.

He grinned happily when Grace flopped down
on the chair next to his, her face severely crunched in
pain.

“
Sid still needs a little
practice with the whip
,” Tara said softly, “it’s a wrist-related
problem. Maybe I should help him out and give him a lesson or two,
huh?”

“
That would be so kind, Ma’am.”
Grace said, respectfully averting her eyes.

She nudged Aaron in the
side.

“
Damn, doesn’t that feel
strange?” she whispered. “We’re all committed now. Well, almost.
Shouldn’t we find a nice curvaceous sub for…”

She tilted her head in Sam’s
direction, who was cleaning glasses behind the counter, whistling
the Bolero.

“
Who knows,” Aaron
shrugged
,
“maybe she’ll find him. Come on, Grace, ask your responsible Dom to
apply some soothing lotion to your welts. You’re
squirming.”

“Great idea.” Grace growled and
stalked off.

Tara took the chair next to him, and
Aaron instinctively lowered his eyes.

“
Eyes on me.” She commanded
softly, and he obeyed immediately. “So, will you invite your
parents to our wedding?”

“
No,
Ma’am” he said with a nonchalant
shrug, “no need to give them a coronary. A BDSM wedding, with me
wearing my collar? That would finally convince my father that I’m a
total failure. No, Ma’am, let’s keep it small, please.
Yes?”

She kissed him and felt the now
familiar tug at her heart, his taste so soft and pure and perfect,
wrapping around her tongue, filling her senses.

“
We’ll invite Jack, though,” she
said against his mouth, “and the four subs whose apartment you
shared, if you want to, little one.”

“
Yes, Ma’am,” he
breathed, “I would
like that.”

He turned slightly and leaned back
against her, taking care not to put the brunt of his weight on her
slim shoulders.

In
this position, she always let her hand
slide down his chest and abdomen to drive under the waistband of
his pants and wrap around his cock, and he was absolutely crazy
about that. He pressed his groin into her touch and purred like a
contented panther.

He felt so close to her, their souls
joined until it wasn’t clear where hers stopped and his began, but
he still sensed the lingering memory of fear whenever she touched
him, still remembered how it had felt to be without her.

“
You won’t leave me, Ma’am, will
you?” he asked softly, gently rubbing his cheek against
hers.

“Never, little pet,” she whispered,
“you’re mine.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he whispered and offered
her his lips for a gentle kiss, “and I’m glad you found
me.”