Afterlife (45 page)

front, with a translucent

blue crystal pendant dangling from it.

A word etched in

silver floated inside the teardrop

shape.

Owned.

In feminine brushscript, that one

significant word was al

lowercase, because of course, capital

emphasis wasn’t

needed. It was in the eyes of the

Master watching her

reaction, how she closed her fingers

on it, her own form of

possessiveness, as he fastened the

col ar. The strap was

over two inches wide, brushing her

col ar bone and putting

pressure on her throat almost up to

her chin. The width

accentuated the length of her neck and

gave her an even

more owned feeling than the pendant,

though she loved the

way it dangled and teased, a patter of

reminder through the

col ar’s thin but stiff material.

“This isn’t your permanent col ar. It’s

not quite ready yet.”

He gave the strap a little tug, his

fingers whispering over

her hold on the pendant, the flicker in

his eyes saying he’d

registered the heat that it had created

in hers. “But this wil

tel anyone that you have a Master.”

He slid the wrap off her shoulders

then, dropping it back

through the open window of the limo.

Then he gave her that

meticulous, appraising look.

“There’s no way I’d let you in there

without that col ar,” he

said, a growl entering his voice. “I

want to make it clear that

you’re hands off…unless I give

anyone permission to touch

you. How would you feel about that,

Rachel?”

It was hard to articulate it, with his

gaze so very close, but

she’d thought about it quite a bit over

the past couple days,

stimulated by what had happened in

his office, with Max,

and the way those holographic

images had made her feel.

As if her body had been recharging al

afternoon, it was

suddenly revved and ready for this,

eager. But her mind felt

thick and clumsy over the question.

She was better with

intuitive, physical responses than

answering such a thing,

but she knew he wouldn’t let her get

out of it.

“I would feel… If it was for your

pleasure…it would be

okay.”

“No.” He caught her chin, his finger

linking into that D-

ring. “Tel your Master.”

“If it’s someone…who belongs to

you. Not that, exactly. A

part of who you are, what you are…

like…” She was going

to say Max, but her gaze in that

direction was enough. “Or

the others…you work with.” She

remembered Peter and

Lucas again, those intimate touches

that were so casual.

“Touching. I think I find that…

exciting. If you’re part of it. And

if it’s not…” It seemed way too

demanding to say she

wasn’t sure she wanted anyone but

Jon inside her, between

her legs. “If it’s…some stranger,

someone you don’t

know…or you’re not real y there, I

don’t think I’d like that as

much. But I’d do…whatever you

want me to do. If it made

you happy.”

“You know what makes me extremely

unhappy, Rachel?”

He pushed her back flat against the

limo, caging her with

his arms. The sudden aggression, his

uncompromising

tone, demanded her ful attention.

“You, deciding to do

something that truly frightened or hurt

you, out of some

misguided idea that my happiness is

different from your

wel -being. They are one and the

same.”

* * * * *

As her face began to reflect the

struggle and misery Jon

understood too wel , he wanted to

curse the past that had

done this to her. She was so excited,

fresh and beautiful,

she had no idea how captivating she

was. He refused to let

anything mar that tonight. So he

touched her chin, her lips,

adding gentleness to bring her wary

gaze back up to his. “I

know what kind of submissive you

are, that you
would
do

anything I wanted. That’s what

caused things to go in such a

wrong direction with your husband.

You’re not with him,

you’re with me. I wil stay attuned to

your emotions and

needs, Rachel, but part of what I

absolutely require as your

Master is that you stay honest with

me, at al levels. Your

pleasure drives mine, do you

understand?”

He knew his eyes had cooled,

conveying the current of

dangerous steel he carried beneath

his usual calm,

because he saw it in the nervous

press of her lips, the

quiver of excitement it also caused.

“If you
ever
do

something that frightens or causes you

the wrong kind of

emotional or physical pain, just

because you thought it

would please me, I wil punish you in

ways that wil drive in

the lesson so hard, you’l never do it

again. You

understand? Say it.”

“I-I understand. I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t demand your apology, sweet

girl.” He pressed a

kiss to her mouth then, teasing her

lips open and making

her moan as his hand slipped

between them, dipped below

that very short, snug skirt. With

unerring accuracy, he slid

two fingers directly into her pussy, al

the way to the base

knuckle. As she caught his arm,

fingers digging in, her eyes

lifting to him in aroused shock, he

spoke through taut lips.

“Repeat the lesson.”

“I…my pleasure…drives yours. Oh

God…” Rachel

swal owed as he rubbed her inside,

withdrew and drove

back in. In another moment she was

going to wrap her legs

around his hips, let him finger fuck

her to climax, to hel with

anyone watching. “Jon…please. I

understand.”

He twisted his touch, stroking his

knuckles on that

sensitive spot inside. “Not what you

cal me, Rachel. Not

without my permission.”

“Master,” she managed, and let out a

throaty sound that

caught the attention of several

passersby. She saw several

knowing glances thrown their way as

they continued to

move toward the door, recognizing a

Master handling his

submissive. It turned her on even

more.

“I don’t…I don’t want anyone inside

me but you. But other

things…might be okay. But no matter

what…what you

want…I trust you.” After so many

years of having to guard

her words, it was so difficult to say

what she real y wanted. It

could make her chest tight, as if she

were going to cry.

However, his expression was patient

as wel as expectant.

Though he was doing his best to

drive her past her

inhibitions with one hand, it was the

other one, stroking

wisps of her hair away from her

temple, lingering on her

cheek, that gave her courage. When it

got right down to it,

for better or worse, she trusted him to

know her better than

she knew herself.

“I…don’t want to
not
try something

that you know I might

want, just because I’m afraid. But the

actual sex…” Jon’s

cock sliding into her cunt, that

connection, the energy that

met there… “I don’t think I want to

share that with anyone

else.”

“Good girl.” He eased out of her,

brought his hand to her

lips. “Clean your Master’s fingers.”

She did, and as she did, she was

quietly amazed at how

al her senses targeted him rather than

their surroundings.

He was in complete command of

everything.

When she was done, he used a

handkerchief to finish the

job, then slid the cloth back into his

coat pocket before

taking her arm and guiding her to the

club doors.

There was a member check-in area,

but Jon was waved

through with a quick glance from the

maître d’. While that

made her think of who else he might

have brought here, she

remembered his earlier words. He

hadn’t been required to

say what he’d said to her—after al ,

she’d made it clear she

hadn’t expected commitment or

monogamy—so it

underscored the possible truthfulness

of it, that bringing her

here was special, not just another

casual submissive. Now,

whether or not she would be in an

emotional position to

believe that later, when she was in

her right mind…

But right now, her body was singing,

and her heart and

not-right mind were wil ing to join in

the chorus. Particularly

in such a magical environment. She

felt like sex-on-stilettos.

She enjoyed the way it felt, walking

in the shoes, letting the

snug hold of the dress dictate her

pendulum-hip

movements as they headed into the

public play area. The

dance floor levels lay beyond, but it

was this immediate

area that grabbed her by the throat.

Surreal had a lot of mist, lights and

silver props, as wel

as view screens of different areas

that those sitting in

booths or at the bar could enjoy

without crowding up to the

place where the action was actual y

occurring. Right now it

was a male sub in a stock being

fucked by another large

male. The sub sucked frantical y on

the strap-on cock of a

Domme in front of him, her black-

gloved hand gripping his

hair to make him suck her faster,

bumping the clit stimulator

against her with a more pleasing

pressure and rhythm.

On another screen, a female

submissive was suspended

in an elaborate rope bondage harness

that included tight

cinching around her breasts. They

were swol en and

flushed, nipples almost blue and

enormous from the

constriction. She was being spanked

with a paddle that

had holes, leaving circular red marks

on her pale flesh. She

was crying as she came, her body

shuddering, face flushed

with ecstasy.

Watching that on the screen stopped

Rachel in her

tracks. Jon’s hand slid from the smal

of her back to her

buttock. As she watched, he gathered

the hem of her

micro-dress, inching it up until he

was fondling her ass, ful y

revealing it as he did so, watching

the screen with her.

Though it was a shadowed, dim

environment, it stil

aroused her intensely, him enjoying

her as he wished,

where his ownership and her place

as his property was

completely accepted. She’d taken the

step from

submissive to slave, and liked the

idea of him considering

her al his in that way.

Further, it had only taken her a matter

of seconds to feel

right about it. She’d waited her

whole life to feel like this, to

be in a moment like this, surrounded

by others who were

immersed in the feelings and needs

she had… People who

understood
. It was like being a child and coming to

Disneyland for the first time, seeing

al the things that

embraced the soul of a child. Having

those things

confirmed, reinforced. Celebrated.

* * * * *

Ben leaned back on the bar, one foot

braced on the

bottom rail of his stool as he took a

swal ow of his drink.

Like the other two sitting with him,

he watched Jon’s

progress through the public play area,

letting Rachel see

the sights.

“Most of the closet ones are shy and

tentative the first

time, looking for reassurance. Look

at her.” The lawyer

gestured, a faint smile on his face,

though his green eyes

were serious, tracking her almost as

closely as Jon. “The

only reason she’s hesitating is the

same reason a kid in a

candy store does. There’s so much

here she wants, she’s

not sure where to start. Good for her.

God, I love an older

woman. Even when they’ve been

busted up inside, they’l

reach for what they want with both

hands, if you clear the

road enough.”

Lucas dipped his head, but a frown

was creasing his

brow. “No argument, but she’s too

unstable yet. She’s stil

running from that pain, not facing it

head-on. She doesn’t

believe down to her soul that she can

trust him.”

“And it’s been what? Not quite forty-

eight hours? Our