Afterlife (23 page)

moving away, and

now she was staring out the windows

at the river, realizing

how many scenarios like this might

be playing out behind

tinted glass. She heard his door

close, the lock slide into

place.

“Peter was a brief hint of

possibilities, but this is between

you and me.”

He caught both the slacks and panties

beneath and slid

them down to her thighs, leaving her

bottom naked to the

touch of the air. She swal owed,

fears and worries rising

again.

“Easy, girl. Stay like that and be

quiet.” He’d moved to a

closet, was rummaging. She heard

drawers opening and

closing, and then, interestingly, the

sound of metal tools

clinking together. “This adjustment

wil do…I think. Yeah,

that’l do the trick. I need to custom fit

one of these for you,

but in the interim, this wil work.”

He returned then. “Close your eyes. I

want you to feel

what I’m putting on you before you

see it.”

She obeyed, that amazing little jump

going through al her

limbs as he fitted something around

her throat, a strap of

some sort that buckled. Then a slim

chain drifted along the

line of her spine as he threaded it

down the back of the

shirt. It apparently divided into two

pieces, because it went

around her waist and he hooked it

together again below her

navel.

His hand slid over her mound, and

something cool and

metal pressed against her clit. When

it pinched, she

gasped, a choked sound of arousal as

the nerves he’d

been stoking the past hour caught fire.

It took everything

she had not to writhe against him,

push into his hand.

“Steady there. Be stil .” His other

hand gripped her

buttock again, squeezed hard enough

to hold her

motionless as he pressed here and

there. Suddenly that

metal piece seemed affixed to her

clitoris, a slightly

alarming feeling. Then another, smal

er piece was being

eased into her pussy, just inside the

entrance. It gave her a

curious and dizzying sense her labia

had been spread and

opened, only a bit past its normal

resting place, but the

sensation made it feel much more

vulnerable. Another slim

chain ran from there between her

buttocks, hooking to the

waist chain and then continuing to the

back of her neck,

attaching to the col ar piece.

“Al right, open your eyes. You can

use your fingers to

feel.”

When she obeyed, she saw there was

in fact something

that looked like a metal molded

shield fitting snugly over her

clit, making the throbbing beneath al

the more excruciating.

Below that, the piece that dipped into

her pussy worked like

an additional clamp to hold the

clitoral piece.

Jon closed his hands on either wrist,

brought her arms up

and her hands to where she could feel

the buckle of the

col ar. There was a pendant there…

no, not a pendant. She

swal owed.

“It’s a lock,” he confirmed. “It holds

the col ar and the end

of the chain, Rachel. You can’t take

any of it off. Only I can

do that. Now, it’s not unbreakable.

You could probably tear

al of it off if you were pretty

determined. A real y sharp knife

would cut through the col ar. But I’m

betting you won’t do

that, because this wil keep your mind

on everything I’ve told

you to do, not on the many reasons

you think you shouldn’t.”

As he turned her to face him, she

knew she had to be

wild and wide-eyed, her body in a

roiling state. He hadn’t

put a vibrator inside her, turned it on

high speed. It hadn’t

been necessary. Like having her on

her knees next to him,

it was what it al meant that stimulated

every nerve ending,

captured every thought. He tipped up

her chin, held her

gaze with an unwavering stare.

“One of our drivers wil take you to

your class tonight. The

driver wil wait for you, and take you

home afterward.

Tomorrow, if you need to go to the

grocery store, he’l take

you. You’re not driving while you’re

wearing this. I hate that I

won’t be able to watch you teach a

class, knowing al this is

beneath your clothes, that you’re wet

and needy.” He

flashed a wicked grin. “I’d wear

loose-fitting yoga clothes

and stay away from headstands,

unless you want to explain

some things.”

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to

strangle him or tel him

not to do this to her. Or beg him to

come home with her.

There was no room for shame or

inhibition with this feeling,

and she expected that was the point.

“I don’t expect

cleaning and cooking wil take up

your whole day,” he

continued. “There’s a book by your

bed. You have about

fifty pages left of it. You’l finish that,

so you can tel me how

it ends. I also want you to meditate

for an hour sometime

before our date tomorrow.”

Sure, and she’d figure out the answer

to Middle East

peace while she was at it. He was

insane, but even worse,

he was now quite serious.

“You’l bathe and shave the way I

instructed you to do this

morning. Now, two very important

things.” He lifted two

fingers, taking one down as he made

the first point. “One.

No release without my permission.

Two.” He slid that one

finger along her nose, to her mouth,

spreading moisture

from her tongue onto her lips. It made

her acutely aware her

lower body was naked to him, her

bare pussy inches away

from his body. “You wil wear that

lipstick tomorrow night,

because I
am
going to see those

moist, painted lips

wrapped around my cock, watch your

tongue lick my come

from them.”

“Jon…” No question, his name a

whimper, her knees

buckling with al of it. He had her

around the waist now,

though, and he pushed her back

down, face forward, until

her upper torso was flat against his

desk, her sensitive

nipples registering the cool wood

through the thin cloth. The

position constricted the col ar and

chains at her throat,

between her buttocks and against that

clit piece. When he

put his hand on the back of her neck,

it was as effective as

if he’d clamped her to the wood. He

crowded her, the hard

evidence of his arousal between her

legs, increasing the

pressure on that clit piece. It took

everything she had not to

move.

“I let you get away with defiance this

morning, but it wil

be the last time.” He slid his finger

along her spine, briefly

tangling the chain. “Come to think of

it, this isn’t enough of a

reminder. You need one more.”

“A reminder of…what?”

Instead of answering, he slid his arms

underneath her,

lifting her at the bend of her hips,

forearms pressing into her

lower abdomen and above her

breasts. Turning, he carried

her without any awkwardness the

three strides to the

drafting stool. Before she could react

to the unorthodox

transport, he had her bent over it. The

slacks around her

thighs inhibited her movement. She

had one thril ing

moment of dazed comprehension as

he picked up a

flexible 18-inch metal ruler, and then

he slapped it down on

her bare buttocks.

She gripped the edge of the stool, a

cry breaking from

her lips. It hurt so badly the sting was

just the beginning of it.

It radiated out, every nerve ending

screaming. But then he

brought it down again.

He was holding on to her forearm,

his own stretched out

in front of her, and she bit down on

him, trying to hold in the

next shriek. He didn’t flinch, didn’t

remove his arm. Even as

she was biting she had to taste him,

like some crazed

animal. Oh God, this hurt. But her

covered clit was against

the stool, and a spasm racked her, an

insane, unexpected

surge from the depths of her womb.

“J-Jon…”

She came during his fifth, sixth and

seventh stroke, and

she was sure she had welts, possibly

even broken flesh.

But the climax racked her convulsing

body, undeniable

proof of her gut-level reaction to the

pain, the punishment.

He didn’t touch her otherwise,

though, so it was hard,

intense and then done, leaving her

gasping, her mouth stil

open on his skin. She was making

those little whimpers

again, and as he lifted her to her feet,

she had to sag

against him. He held her with one

arm, sliding her panties

and slacks back in place with the

other. The climax

immediately soaked the panel. He

took his time with her

clothes, as was necessary one-

handed, but seemed to

take great pleasure in it.

“Let me…” She was struggling to

breathe, wanting him to

let her go so her knees
could
buckle.

“Let me suck you

now. Please.”

Was that her voice, that rough,

uncontrol ed plea?

Instead, he tucked in her shirt, pushed

her back against

the drafting table as he curved his

fingers over her clit,

bound inside that metal mold under

the fabric. She pushed

into his touch, a wave of aftershocks

making her moan

again. He let her ride it, his

unrelenting gaze on her face,

not letting her hide from him.

“Not right now.” He buckled her belt

back in place, then

cupped her buttocks, bringing her off

the table. She flinched

at the firm contact, the agony and yet

the remembered

ecstasy of it making her lick her lips.

“This, along with the

rest, should keep your mind occupied

until I see you

tomorrow night. It’s also a reminder

you obey your Master,

or you accept the consequences. Now

look at my eyes.”

He had to guide her there, a hand to

her chin again. “For

the next twenty-four hours, you think

only of your Master’s

wil . You’ve waited a long time to

prove how devoted a

slave you can be. Don’t deny yourself

what you truly want.”

* * * * *

After he saw her out to the lobby, Jon

turned her over to

Max, the trusted head driver of the

K&A limo fleet. Max had

a variety of talents. He’d once been a

Navy Seal, so

understood Jon’s instructions

completely. If Rachel got

discomfited by having a driver at her

disposal and tried to

do her own driving, he would make

sure, with tact but firm

insistence, that wasn’t going to

happen.

Jon realized his instincts had taken

him further down

Matt’s suggested track than he’d

expected. He wished they

didn’t have that damn meeting in

New Orleans tomorrow

morning. If they hadn’t been planning

it for the past month,

he would have played the friend card

with Matt to the nth

degree and gotten out of it. He could

have chosen a more

gentle strategy, been more romantic

than Dominant, but his

gut had told him wooing was the

wrong tact with her,

particularly when she’d shown up

with that tremulous jut to

her chin and deliberate brush-off of

his instructions. But

there was no doubt that he was

backing al those

unresolved feelings into a corner.

Before too long, she’d

lash out at him, a cornered, injured

lioness.

After tomorrow, he’d ask Matt for a

few days off.

He was only in his office a few

moments before Peter

came in, Lucas and Ben right behind

him. Jon knew Matt

had left for an early lunch with

Savannah. They tried to catch

a sandwich together to hear the

Wednesday jazz-in-the-

park series once a month. Before

they’d become a couple,

it was one of the things Matt had

worked into his schedule

to get Savannah to stop living, eating

and breathing her job.

It had helped amp up her trust in him,

so he’d had a more

secure foothold to win her surrender,

as Jon had pointed

out earlier.

Jon was glad he was sitting behind