Master of the Dark Side: A Novella Read online

  A little hurt with no lasting harm. But what if he liked it? Dammit.

  He set her down beside the bench, holding her upper arms to help her balance. Although she was average height, she seemed small. Womanly. He smoothed his palms over her curvy body, learning her shape and feel. Her bones were pleasingly padded, her waist curved in nicely, and her full hips begged for the grip of a man’s hands.

  “Stay right there and don’t move.” When he reinforced the command with the stern expression he used to intimidate drunks, a tiny shiver ran through her body. Ah. Logan had said a dom could often spot a submissive by her reaction to a command. Nice.

  She wanted his control—he’d give her what she needed.

  Keeping a hand curved around her calf so she wouldn’t lose the sense of being restrained, he knelt and opened the bag. Leather cuffs. Yes. A telescoping spreader bar. Oh yeah. A paddle? His stomach tightened. Then he nodded. Yes. Anal toys—not yet. The leather belt—hell no.

  In fact, part of him insisted he shouldn’t use any of this stuff.

  But the little sub’s arousal hung in the air, a soft fragrance that made him want to hear her whimper and beg for release. He wanted to know everything—her desires, what made her tick. Her voice had caught his attention; her appearance had roused him. Her giggling… Damn, he’d loved that, but the way she’d faced her fears? How could a man resist that combination of submission and courage?

  How would she react to the paddle? To his hands? He’d find out how they’d both react. That was why he was here.

  She stood quietly as he studied her. He’d scened with some subs at Serenity Lodge, but tonight felt different. He’d take her surrender, yes. He expected to have her squirming under him…but more. This time, he wanted to know the sub. This one. Summer.

  And to find out about the bad experience Simon had mentioned. Should he have pushed her more? Just how much did restraints really bother her? He’d have to watch her reactions like a hawk.

  But right now, the flush in her cheeks and the added pinkness of her lips said she wanted what he had to give. He slid his palm up her thigh to below her pussy, feeling the juices creeping down her leg and the heat of her skin. He left his hand there, enjoying the tiny squirms she gave.

  A squirmy soft woman with big blue eyes. He was a dead man.

  Chapter Three

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  When Virgil removed the rope ties from her ankles, Summer felt more in control. Less nervous. Less excited. But she didn’t mind. Being unbound was so much safer and—

  Something closed around her left ankle. Her gaze shot down. A cuff? He set a spreader bar next to her feet. She stepped back.

  “For each time you move, I’m adding an extra swat.”

  She closed her eyes at the arousing threat. She’d gone past damp and well into really wet. If he kept talking to her in that rough, sexy baritone, she’d never last.

  He cuffed her right ankle. “Open your legs.”

  She moved her legs apart, and he slapped her inner thighs lightly to make her spread more. God, the tiniest of stings and she almost moaned. Cool air wafted against the wetness of her folds.

  As he adjusted the spreader bar, she listened to the sounds around them: the faint beat of country music. A man’s low moan. A woman’s intermittent shrieks of pain. Low instructions from a dom. A woman’s scream of climax. What would it be like to be so lost in an orgasm as to scream?

  Virgil had made the spreader bar wider than her shoulders. He attached her ankle cuffs to each end. This time when she tried to draw her legs together, she couldn’t. The bar held her ankles apart, keeping her exposed. Oh Lord.

  Still kneeling, he ran his calloused hands up her thighs.

  Her breath stopped as his fingers approached her pussy. Her clit throbbed. She needed to be touched right there. Instead he folded her short leather skirt up and tucked the hem into the waist, and did the same in the front. After undoing the bows of her thong, he pulled it off. When he held the scrap of material to his face and inhaled, her cheeks flared with heat.

  “You smell nice, like sunshine and sex.” His hand cupped her exposed pussy, and he gave a pleased mmm. “All shaved and bare—nothing in the way of my tongue.”

  She hadn’t realized she could grow wetter.

  He rose, filling space with his solid presence, as if the world might bump into him and he’d never give ground. “Let’s get your vest off also. In fact, why don’t you undo it for me?”

  “Me?” She added quickly, “Yes, Sir.”

  He stood, feet braced, arms folded over his bare chest, and waited as she fumbled with the leather strings. Finally she reached the last one, and her vest fell open.

  “You, honey, have gorgeous breasts.” He slid the garment off and cupped her full breasts with hands so large she fit without overflowing. His movements as unhurried as his speech, he weighed and molded them.

  When his thumbs circled her bunched nipples, streaks of need shot straight to her clit. Seeing the heat and command in his eyes, she felt as if she’d gone wading and stepped off into deep water. She looked down only to see his muscular forearms and corded wrists and the erotic sight of his tanned hands on her pale skin.

  “Eyes on me, sweetheart.” He put his fingers under her chin and lifted her face up, holding her there as his other hand rolled her nipple. As he pinched it to the edge of pain, then stroked the ache away, he watched her with a penetrating gaze that pierced all the way to her soul.

  When finally he stepped back, heat simmered beneath her skin as if she had a sauna inside her…and the thermostat had broken.

  “I saw you with someone earlier, you know. You didn’t look like your head was in the game at all.” His eyebrows lifted. “Was it?”

  Her breasts were swollen, her nipples burned, and she needed a moment to process his meaning. Then she winced, remembering how Xavier had said she playacted submission. “Uh. I guess not.” Xavier was right, darn him. Her buddies never affected her like this, never shook her confidence, never took the control from her hands. They never made her feel sexy.

  Under the warm heat in Virgil’s eyes, she felt…beautiful.

  He pulled more cuffs from the toy bag. “Give me your wrist, Summer.”

  A tremor ran through her, shaking her balance. Unable to even step back, she chewed on her lip, wanting to protest that she’d already said no to bondage.

  His gaze was level. Steady.

  She put her hand in his palm. As he fastened the cool leather snugly around one wrist, then the other, the shaking grew inside, not from fear, but from need.

  He ran a finger under each cuff and tested the fit. “Use your safe word if you get scared, honey.”

  “I’m fine.” Her voice came out husky.

  “Yes, you are, aren’t you?” He kissed her lips lightly, then took a seat on the spanking bench. His firm gaze met hers. “I want those breasts,” he said softly. “Bring them to me, please.”

  Her nipples contracted so hard and tight she wanted to whimper with arousal. But she didn’t move, because if she did—if she followed his order—then she gave him even more than he’d taken.

  His voice turned dangerously low. “Now, Summer.”

  Her feet shuffled forward without any intention on her part, and under his authoritative gaze, her hands lifted her breasts, offered them to him.

  “That’s very nice, sweetheart.” He set one hand on her bottom, and his other pressed over where her left palm cupped her breast. His warm breath touched her nipple. One breath and another. With the subtle stimulation, her head spun, dizzy with need.

  The touch of his warm lips on the peak made her jump.

  The grip on her butt tightened, holding her firmly as his tongue circled her nipple. “Mmmm.” His deep voice was rich with satisfaction.

  When he glanced at her, she tried to back away. “No, Summer. Don’t move.” He paused. “Why don’t you want me to enjoy your breasts?”

  No one had ever questioned her so persistently. �
�Uh.” If she said, I want you to, he wouldn’t believe her, since she’d tried to retreat. If she said, I don’t like it, he wouldn’t believe her, since a blind man could see the way she responded to him. This man was as far from blind as any dom she’d ever met.

  “Summer?” His quiet voice ripped her anchoring away like the current in a fast river.

  “I…I’m used to a dom taking what he wants. Offering feels different.”

  “I see. Sweetheart, you’re going to offer me a lot more than just your breasts tonight.” His baritone was measured and sure.

  Her air hissed out at the dark promise in his eyes.

  He lowered his head, his lips enclosing her nipple with heat. He sucked hard and fast, and she gave a tiny scream. Each strong pull of his mouth on her breast somehow squeezed her clit too.

  When he straightened, she lowered her hands. “Do not move, baby,” he growled, and she froze, then pushed her breasts back upward.

  “Very obedient. Good girl.” His compliment made her float with pleasure.

  He touched her between the legs, where her pussy had waited forever for just that. Even so, she jerked at the jolt of exquisite sensation and got a low, “Uh, uh. Stay still, honey.” He traced a finger between her labia, slicking the wetness up and over her clit and back down.

  Her eyes closed at the incredible pleasure. Her nipples, wet and swollen from his mouth, bunched tightly and throbbed, and his finger multiplied the sensations streaming through her. When he pushed a slick finger up into her, her knees wobbled. More.

  She opened her eyes to see him watching her with a narrowed gaze.

  A flutter started in her stomach. “I—”

  “Shhh.” With his finger deep inside her, he rubbed his thumb over her clit, making little circles on one side until the nub hardened. Then he switched to the other side. The pressure in her groin grew, and his thick finger in her curled, rubbing something—somewhere—and the electrifying friction unraveled her thoughts completely.

  He moved away, leaving her close to the edge. Hurting with need. “You’re a beautiful submissive, Summer. I like the way you respond.” With sure hands, he lifted her onto the spanking bench and clipped her cuffs behind her back.

  She stiffened. “No. No, I don’t want my hands restrained.”

  “Yes. You do.” He squeezed her shoulders, massaging the rigidity away. “Bondage scares you for some reason, but you do want it. Need it. That’s clear, even to me.”

  Even to him? She shut her eyes in frustration. He read her more easily than almost anyone in the place.

  “Breathe for me, Summer.” She sucked in air. He stroked his hands up and down her arms as she tugged at the cuffs, reassuring her with his touch, letting her relax into his dominance. It had been so long since she could let go, could trust someone to have control. “Okay now?” he asked gently.

  “Yes, Sir.” He’d acknowledged her fears but didn’t yield at all. Why did his decisiveness make her feel safer with him than with someone who’d give in to her demands?

  He pulled something from the toy bag. “Let’s drive you a little crazier, since Simon was so generous.” He stepped in front of the spanking bench, amusement lightening the heat in his eyes. He opened a package of nipple clamps. “I assume you’ve worn these before?”

  Oh God, as aroused as she felt, could she take more? Each beat of her heart sent a pulse of blood to her clit.

  “Summer?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

  “I’ve learned I like the way a woman’s breasts look with this kind of jewelry.” With gentle tugs, he shaped her nipple long and taut, fastened on a clamp, and tightened the small screw to the point of pain. She stiffened, staring up in his face.

  A muscle flexed in his jaw. “You can take more.” And he advanced it a tiny bit further.

  She whimpered and tensed.

  “Breathe, Summer. Breathe until the pain eases up.”

  She knew how, but without that low commanding voice caressing her, she might not have managed. A few seconds and the bite of the clamp dulled to a throb matching the one in her pussy.

  “Good girl. Now this one.”

  Uhhh, two make the pain so much worse. Needing to push him away, rip the clamps off, she jerked at her arms—uselessly. The river of awareness that she could do nothing flooded her, sweeping away her willpower. “Virgil, please…no.”

  His hand stroked her hair. “Breathe again for me, baby. Deep breath now. That’s a girl.” He had a line between his brows and his mouth had tightened, but his eyes were level on hers.

  The burn eased, and God, she needed to come so badly she shook. She squirmed.

  “Be damned. You do like some pain, don’t you.” He wasn’t asking but stating a fact. He touched her cheek. “Bend over now.”

  From kneeling upright, she leaned forward. He adjusted her so her ribs rested on the leather of the four-by-four, and her heavy breasts dangled on the other side. The clamps tugged on her nipples like someone’s sharp teeth. And each bite seared straight to her clit.

  He sighed, his hand stroking her hair gently. “The pain makes you hotter, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said with difficulty. The unstoppable fog of sensation was rolling right over her thoughts.

  “Why the hell does watching you take the pain make me hot too?” he muttered. He pulled a wooden paddle from the bag and moved behind her. “I’d make you count, but I’m simply going to continue until I think we’re both ready to quit, so there’s no point, is there?”

  Oh. My. God. She’d never been this needy before. Everything inside her shook. The way he treated her, watched her, commanded her, seemed to pull at something deep in her pelvis, an invisible leash of control. No wonder Xavier had said she’d been playacting.

  He kneaded her bottom, and his abrasive palms sent goose bumps up her skin. “You have a gorgeous ass, baby. Soft and round.” When his fingers slid between her legs, up and over her clit, as if to remind her of how aroused she was, she groaned. And groaned again when he took his hand away.

  Something cool and solid rubbed the skin on her ass. The paddle. He gave her several tiny painless pats like a baby hammering on the floor.

  What kind of a spanking was that? Disappointment cooling her excitement, she glanced over her shoulder at him.

  The muscles in his face were rigid, his jaw set. The cords stood out on the hand gripping the paddle. His erection was very obvious. He saw her looking. His gaze moved over her slowly, and then a corner of his lip turned up. “All right, baby.”

  He hesitated for a long moment and swung. No baby pat this time; it stung…stung so good. She moaned as the shock blew straight into pleasure. She lowered her head and gave a happy moan.

  He grunted as if he’d been the one to get hit, and then settled in. Slowly the blows grew harder. The pressure in her lower half tightened as the stinging changed to burning, and she edged closer to coming.

  He stopped to rub his palm over her bottom, soothing the pain. His finger slid between her folds. “You’re wet, Summer.” He cupped her chin and turned her head toward him. “And in need of more,” he said slowly, and his thumb stroked along her jaw. His eyes darkened. “All right, then.”

  He released her and stepped back. “These are for being rude to Simon and Xavier.” The next five were hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. Each jerk of her body made her breasts swing and the clamps bite, sending more sensation streaming through her body.

  Her head spun as her surroundings faded.

  All her weight leaned on the bench. Nothing mattered anymore except the next slap of the paddle, the burning between her legs, the tugging on her nipples. Sensation after sensation.

  He paused and ran his fingers between her folds, turning slick with her wetness. “Fuck, you really love this. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” he said just loud enough for her to hear. His slow stroking over her clit increased the fire until the whole area felt like one exquisitely exposed nerve.

/>   When he moved his hand, she groaned. She’d been so close.

  He returned to swatting her, light, then hard, from no pain to slaps that sounded horrible and resounded through her body. Between blows, the clamps teased her throbbing nipples, shooting electricity in a constant stream to her pussy.

  Closer. Hit me. Touch me… Her back arched, and her butt pushed up, waiting…

  He stopped—the bastard stopped. He squeezed her bottom, making her squeak as the burn increased. With his other hand, he stroked her pussy, the sure touches turning her clit back to a throbbing hardness.

  “Please,” she whimpered, hips wiggling uncontrollably. She wanted to put her thighs together, to rub herself, to do something, but her legs were restrained apart, her hands secured. She could do nothing. “More.”

  “You’ll get more…but it’ll be my way, not yours.” He resumed spanking her. Each blow forceful, one cheek, the other, and one against the lower curve of her butt. Pain ripped into raw sensation with every slap, first the shock, then the burning, then a wave of pleasure. Her hips rocked back after each as if to beg for more. The humming pulse in her ears grew louder than her moans.

  He moved his position forward a step. His free hand brushed down her stomach to settle over her pussy, so that each time he hit her bottom, his finger rubbed directly over her clit.

  She keened, her body turning rigid as the pressure inside skyrocketed upward, coiling…

  He swatted her ass mercilessly, and the burning pain mingled with the excruciating pleasure of his finger sliding down the side of her clit. Another cruel slap of the wooden paddle. His finger stopped.

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God.”

  The next swat didn’t come…didn’t come…and then he stroked ever so slowly over the very top of her clit. Her muscles tensed as everything coiled inside.

  The paddle struck.

  Pain ripped into her; his finger pressed down on the nub of nerves, and it felt as if a tightly wound ball in her groin exploded. Her insides spasmed, sending sensations blazing through her in fiery bursts of pleasure. Her spine arched. His hands closed on her hips, restraining her, as she bucked in place.