A Jade's Trick (Lilly Black's Jaded Series Book 1) (30 page)

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Authors: Lilly Black

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Bdsm

BOOK: A Jade's Trick (Lilly Black's Jaded Series Book 1)
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"You're so beautiful like this, Evan, naked and helpless, mine to use as I please."  I feel his words resonate inside me, and no matter how spent I might have felt moments ago, I'm recharged now, ready to be used.  "I've dreamed of this moment from the first time I saw you.  You could make me come so easily right now, but I don't want this to end."  I shudder as his hot breath warms my neck.  I don't want it to end either.

I hear the sound of the chain again, and I feel myself being lifted as he pulls it through the eyelet.  The tips of my toes no longer touching the ground, I'm completely vulnerable, but in his hands, I feel safe.  Kissing me, he wraps my legs around his hips and walks us forward until I'm pinned against the wall.  I grip the chain above my cuffs for support as he thrusts into me, my back sliding up and down the smooth, cold concrete as we begin to fuck.

Blindfolded, my head full of pheromones, and his tongue in my mouth, the sound of the chain is melodic and every stroke of his cock heaven.  His teeth find my neck, nipping at me from ear to shoulder, where he bites down extracting a sharp, rapturous moan, the mix of pleasure and pain exquisite as I dig my heels into his ass like spurs, wanting more.  He gives it to me, harder and deeper, and though weary from the chain, I will my arms to hold out just a little longer as the impending orgasm seizes me...almost there...so close...so...

No! 
My mind and body protest in unison as he stops abruptly, withdrawing from me, and I foolishly make my disappointment known with a whine.  Suffering the loss of him like a phantom limb, I feel the sting of his palm on my thigh, his other hand clutching my throat just tight enough to make his point.  I know what he wants.  He wants me to beg, and trembling with need, I have no shame.

"Please, Master," I plead.  "Please let me come." 

Ever Merciful, he returns to me, swiftly taking me back to the precipice, controlling me, skillfully keeping me right on the edge until, in a mind-blowing, white-hot flash, I'm thrown into the chasm below.  I cry out - his name, God's, I don't know - but I scream it into him as his mouth attacks mine, his tongue like his cock, driven into me as I writhe against him, losing my rhythm, my legs aching from the effort of the journey.  I try to steady him, to hold him still through the aftershocks, but he's relentless, possessing me, using me, spending me.  I feel him tighten, growing to his absolute limit inside of me, and though I thought I had reached my own limit, hearing the sweet sound of his ecstasy reawakens the need within me, radiating outward in intense waves, my body a slave to his beautiful, perfect cock.

"Harder!" I beg, and he slams into me, rigid and smooth as marble.  I arch my back as he fills me, fucking me deeper and faster until I lose control.

"Oh, fuck!  Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh, fuck!" I cry, and in one final, devastating thrust, my entire body shudders in a violent release as Cain crushes me against the wall, his hands in a death grip on the flesh of my hips, his cock slowly grinding into me, throbbing with the accelerated beating of his heart.

"Cain...Master..." I murmur as I collapse in his arms, my every muscle exhausted, and finally I let go of the chain, collapsing into him.  He folds his arms around me and kisses me softly on the forehead.

"I love to make you come, Evan," he whispers, his every word more precious to me than the air I breathe.

"But it's not fair.  When do I get to make you come?" I complain as he lets me slide down the wall to my feet.

"I don't have to be fair," he says, and I push my lower lip out in a full pout, making him laugh.

"I could spank you for that," he threatens, but at the same time, I think I've won as he takes the cuffs off my wrists.  I reach out to find that he's still standing in front of me, and with my hands on his hips to keep my orientation, I cautiously begin to go down on my knees on the hard concrete floor.

"Maybe I wasn't through with you," he says as I kneel before him, waiting for permission.  I don't respond.

"What's the matter?  Can't take anymore?" he asks.  I shake my head no.

"Okay," he says, and crouching in front of me, he runs his fingers along with the side of my face.  "Since you've done so well your first time, I'm going to let you off the hook...however in the future, I will fuck you for as long as it pleases me, and you will never tell me you can't take anymore.  Do you understand?" 

"Yes, Master Cain," I say.

"Make me come, Evan," he commands, and finally free to do as I please, I use my every skill, giving him a good show, assuming he's watching me from above.  As I take him to the brink, a delightful idea pops into my head.  I pull his cock out of my mouth, finishing him with my hands.  The head aimed at me, I blindly stick out my tongue to catch it as he floods my tits and chin.

"Oh, God, Evan!" Cain cries out as I take him back into my mouth, softly teasing him until he can't take anymore.  He falls to his knees, and with his come all down the front of me, he pulls me into his arms.

"Oh, my fucking God, Evan," he breathes.

 

 

"Let's get you cleaned up," Cain says. My knees are killing me from kneeling on the concrete, but once I stretch, it doesn't last.  I grab the corset and follow Cain to a spacious bath on the other side of the dining room.  As I lay the corset on the vanity I notice that when I thoroughly doused myself, I doused it as well.  Wondering if I've ruined the leather, I look up to see Cain standing behind me in the mirror, beaming at my tits as they glisten. I roll my eyes at him.

"I could spank you for that, too," he says.

"For ruining the corset?"

"For rolling your eyes at me."

"You'd get little else done," I say.

"I could live with that," he says, smacking me lightly on the ass.  "Come on.  Let's get a shower."

"I should probably try to get this off before..."

"Lucy will take care of it.  How's sushi for dinner?" Cain asks, ignoring my concern.

"Sushi's fine, nigiri style, but I don't want Lucy cleaning this."

"It's what she does, Evan," Cain says, and I groan my irritation.  "I really liked this, by the way." He traces a finger lightly around one still wet nipple.

"I thought you might," I say, bringing that finger to my mouth and licking it.  His eyes flash.

"I also liked it when you put my hands on your head."

"You can do that if you want," I invite him.

"I will."

"Good, now about the corset."

"I'll have it dry cleaned if it's that important to you," he says dismissively.

"All I want is for you to adequately explain why you have a woman who has never been your lover yet is more than willing to clean your...
you
off..."

"It's come, Evan." 

"Fine, come," I say.  "To clean your come off the corset I've been wearing while we..."

"Not the corset you've been wearing.  Your corset."

"Are you trying to be difficult?" I demand.

"Yes," Cain says, and he picks up the remote to tell Lucy bring us sushi with fortune cookies.

"Fortune cookies aren't Japanese, you know," I say.

"Now who's being difficult?" he asks.

"I'm still waiting for your explanation." 

"Enough of this," Cain growls and slaps my ass again.  "In the shower!"  I follow him into the stall, laughing at how utterly misogynistic he comes off when in reality, he's the complete opposite.

As we shower, we keep our hands to ourselves, not intending to turn it into another round, though I think our only saving grace is that I am pressing him to tell me more about Lucy, which is apparently not an easy tale.  I offer to let it go, but Cain promises to explain it over dinner.

"After the way you have accepted and slipped so perfectly into my life, feeding my desires," he says, cupping my face in his hands as the water streams down us, "I want to share everything with you, Evan."  He kisses me chastely, and I look up at him, doe-eyed, not knowing what to say.  I wish I could share everything with him, too.

"I know it's hard for you," Cain adds, reading me.  "You'll tell me when you're ready."  As he hugs me, my face against his chest, I hold onto him for a long moment, and what I cannot say, my body conveys in my need to be as close to him as physically possible without having him inside me, though on some level, I always want him inside me.

 

 

"Thanks, Lucy," I say as she pours me a goblet of water along with a glass of Rippon Jeunesse 2008.  It turns out to be a good accompaniment to the sushi, but I'll still need more water than wine because the wasabi is potent.  Cain laughs at me when I get too much and begin furiously fanning my watering eyes.

Dressed in bath robes and lounging like Romans as we eat, we discuss what happened beyond the now-closed velvet curtain, and Cain is particularly curious about why I suddenly decided to call him Master.  I have realized why calling him Sir seemed so abhorrent to me aside the fact that I didn't want to call him the same thing all of his former subs, but I can't tell him that yet.

"No one has ever called you Master before?" I ask.

"They were told to call me Sir, and they did what they were told.  I didn't realize it until now, but I think I liked them to call me Sir because it made me feel more detached.  Master sounds much more personal."

"I agree," I say.  "So what are you going to call me when I'm in charge?"

"You still have a long way to go before that happens, little girl," Cain warns.

"I know, but I want you in the habit," I say, crinkling my nose.  "And Mistress is just too common."  He's amused with me, but I still get what I want.

"Well, then, since you've obviously given it so much thought, I assume you already have a list of alternatives for me."

"Uh-uh.  It's up to you to find me a worthy title."

"I see," he says, then he stares off into the distance for a moment.  "What about...Lady Evan?"

"Do you like that?"

"I don't have to like it."

"I want you to like it."

"Whatever name by which I worship my Goddess will be the most beautiful name in the world," Cain says, and he sounds so overly poetic, we both laugh.

"No to Goddess, then?" he asks.

"No to Goddess."

"
My
Lady?  Your Highness?"  I shake my head no.  "Your Grace?"

"Your Grace.  We'll call that plan B," I say.  It isn't exactly what I'm looking for, but it does have a nice ring to it.  "What else you got?" 

"Not much," he says, pulling out his phone.  He types in a search and reads off a few more options.  "My Queen.  Madame.  Ms."

"None of the above," I say as Cain scrolls on his phone, then he suddenly looks up, its glow casting odd shadows on his face, making his smile ominous as he stares at me with hooded eyes.

"Domina," he says like the invocation of an ancient deity, and for an intense moment, it's as if all of the air is sucked out of the room.

"Domina," Cain repeats, knowing I've made my choice.

 

 

After Lucy clears the dishes, Cain finally opens up about their relationship.  As he begins, I promise myself that whatever he tells me, I will not react like a whiny bitch.

"I didn't know she bought you the choker," he says, "but when you told me, you don't know how much it pleased me to see you wearing it.  You and Lucy are the two most important people in my life, and I need you to get along.  I'd like you to be close." 

"I think we're getting there," I say.  "We're even sharing secrets...like the one about how I almost fell in the pool the night we met..."

"I'm sorry about that," Cain says with a laugh.

"I'm not."

"You never cease to amaze, Evan.  A few hours ago, you scared the fuck out of me, and then you turned around and made everything work out tonight better than I could have hoped.  You scared Lucy, too.  She knows if anyone could make me distance myself from her, it's you.  It means a lot to me that you aren't pushing me to make that choice."  He squeezes my hand as his words make me feel like I could burst inside, and I realize whatever he tells me about his bond with Lucy, I can take it.

"It was right after I graduated from USD. I was in Vegas with friends, and some of us decided to go back to San Diego early, but we couldn't get a flight out..."  As Cain begins the story, I remember the crash he mentioned when I learned he could fly.

Is this that story?
I wonder, utterly rapt as he tells me about chartering a plane to San Diego.

"One of the engines went out, and we had to make an emergency landing.  The only option was a tiny airstrip in Baker, California.  It's a small town in the middle of nowhere, about an hour's drive from Barstow," he explains.  "The pilot brought us down hard and fast.  I don't know exactly what happened, but we crashed."  I'm horrified, but as I sit here with one of the passengers telling me the story, I figure it couldn't have been too bad.  I am so wrong.

"I don't remember the landing, but they told me later that the plane was in flames, and I would be dead if I hadn't been miraculously thrown from it."

"Oh, Cain!  What about your friends?  The pilots?"

"I lost four of the best friends I ever had that day," he says, his eyes cast downward.  I slide closer to him in the booth.

"You don't have to finish..."

"It's okay.  It was five years ago," Cain says, squeezing my hand.  "They airlifted me to the hospital in Barstow.  My Mother wanted me transferred to Scripps in La Jolla, but I had broken so many bones, they didn't want to move me again.  I don't actually remember any of this because I was unconscious for days, and when I woke up, other than being in a body cast, I was fine.  The funny thing is what saved me is the same thing that killed the others."

"Being thrown from the plane?" I ask, puzzled.

"I was hammered.  We were all drinking, but I was the worst.  I had started seeing Amber again - the one who caught me fucking around in college?"  I nod my head.  I think I remember her name from the night we shared our pasts.  "She didn't trust me at all anymore.  She started following me, calling me all the time, checking my alibis.  I felt guilty for hurting her in the first place, so for a while, I put up with it, but it got to the point that I was completely miserable.  After graduation, I went to Vegas with the guys, but she couldn't even leave me alone with them for three fucking days.  She was calling and riding my ass from the moment I left San Diego, afraid I'd fuck somebody, and I had had enough.  I decided to fly home early so I could break up with her in person, and four of my friends came along for the ride.  I wish I hadn't even told them.  They'd still be alive."

"It's not your fault."

"But sometimes it's hard not to blame myself."

"I know exactly what you mean."  Exactly.  "But you can't blame yourself for other people's decisions.  You can't feel guilty for surviving."

"I survived because when the plane went down, I was passed out, no seatbelt, no bracing myself.  They think the emergency exit door flew open and sucked me out before the plane hit the ground.  The doctor said my BAC saved my life, but the pilot's BAC was almost as high as mine."

Oh, my God! 

"There was no reason that he shouldn't have been able to land that plane safely on the one engine.  We crashed because he was a fucking drunk."

"Oh, Cain, that's awful!"  Four young college graduates with their whole lives ahead of them gone because one asshole couldn't stay sober long enough to make the hour long flight from Las Vegas to San Diego! 

"So what does all this have to do with Lucy?" I ask, luring Cain back as the memory of the crash is making him grow distant.

"Lucy's Dad was my roommate in the hospital..."  He was dying of pancreatic cancer, his daughter's visits his only joy, and over the course of weeks, when Cain woke up bound to his bed, he and Lucy became close.  She would stay with him even after her father fell asleep from his pain medication.

When Cain was released, Lucy volunteered to help him through his physical rehabilitation if he stayed in Barstow, and with no obligations before Berkeley in the fall, much to his mother's discontent, he did.  It was during this time that BDSM became a part of him.  Lucy had been submissive in a series of non-sexual relationships in Los Angeles where she lived before her father became ill, and her stories awakened a desire that had been in the back of Cain's mind for a long time.  Though they learned quickly that the chemistry between them was not romantic, they decided to tell her father that they were getting married.  He had been worried about leaving her alone in the world, and when he believed that Lucy would be cared for, he finally let go.

"It was an old man's dying wish, and though I swear we never had any intention of getting married, I meant it when I promised him that I would always take care of Lucy.  When school started, I took her to Berkeley with me, and I've kept my promise ever since, though I think she's the one who takes care of me more often than not."

"I understand now," I say.  "I can't promise that I'll never be jealous, but I'll do my best."

"You will never have any reason to be jealous of Lucy."

"Especially since Lucy serves me now."

"Oh, she does?"  Cain sounds amused.

"Uh-huh.  Don't worry.  She can still take care of you as long as you understand that my orders now supersede yours," I say, very matter-of-factly, and though he still has that look on his face as if he is placating me for his own amusement, he doesn't argue.

"As you wish, Domina," he says, playfully.

"Good.  Now kiss me," I command, and his smile fades. He takes a last swig from his glass, and with his eyes suddenly burning through me, he brings his lips to mine, the wine still in his mouth.  It runs down my chin and over my breasts, and he forcefully pulls the top of my robe open to lick away every drop as he grabs the remote from the table, pressing the button to lock the door.

Is he going to let me be in charge?
I wonder.

"Take off your robe," I order him.

"Take yours off first..." Cain says.

Oh
...

"...Domina." 

Oh!
  I stand and yank the belt loose, letting my robe fall open, and when Cain rises, I push the robe off his shoulders, grabbing the tie and binding his hands together at the wrist.  I lead him beyond the curtain, but once inside the dungeon, he threads his bound arms over my head, backing me up to the bondage table.

"Turn around," he commands.

"Are you forgetting who's in charge here?" I ask, but I sound like I'm teasing, completely unsure of myself.

"You can punish me later.  Right now I'm going to fuck you...Domina."  He adds it with the same delayed, all but contemptuous tone.

"You're worse than me." 

"And I shall remain so until you say those three little words," he warns.  "So tell me, what would you like me to do to you, Domina."

"Fuck me," I say stubbornly.

"Turn around, Evan," he says with a sigh, shaking his head at me.

"Fine, but you're not getting your hands back," I hiss as I turn to face the table, still in his bound embrace.

"I don't need them," he growls, and holding me upright and flush against him, he runs his hands down the front of me, inadvertently touching my clit with the knuckles of his thumbs.  Knowing that he can't be overly explorative while his hands are tied, I get another small taste of what it would be like if I wasn't scarred before he abruptly leans forward, forcing me to bend over.

My first time in charge lasted all of two minutes, but once I feel his beautiful cock inside me, I don't even remember why I cared, losing myself in his rhythm as he bends my body to his will.  When he makes me come, he keeps fucking me, pushing my limits, and I push back, reaching down between my legs to tease his balls with my fingernails as we fuck.  I feel an instant difference inside me as he grows even harder, thrusting into me with such force, he knocks my hands from under me, praising my name as he comes, collapsing against my back, and weighing me down as I melt into the table.

"God, I love your cock," I breathe into the soft, black leather.

"It's yours," Cain whispers, his face in my hair.  "It's all yours." 

 

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