Afterlife (50 page)

unexpected flash flood when

he’d done three, blissful y slow

strokes. “Master…” She

gasped it out on instinct. They’d

never talked about rules,

she realized. They just knew, she just

knew, what she

needed…wanted.

“May I… Please let me come!”

He held his silence, pushing in,

dragging out, thrusting,

working her faster, then slow, and

she became desperate,

crying out for the permission.

“Please…please…Master.”

The heat was sweeping over her,

pussy spasming, and in

another second she’d be in breach of

the obedience her

Master should demand from her,

never to release without

his permission. “Help…can’t…”

“Now, Rachel. Come for your

Master. For me alone.”

That sense of disorientation, of being

lost on a turbulent

tide of sensation and the col ective

desires of those around

her took over, swept her up and over,

and she was at the

hub of it, held by Jon’s sure, steady

grip. As she was pul ed

away into sensation, her last coherent

thought was that the

pil ory, the environment, the men,

even the presence of the

other K&A women, was an ultimate

organic device

engineered by him, a Master whose

wil she was helpless

to resist. She was lost in a rushing

river, dependent on him

to guide that narrow boat through the

roaring waters.

She was screaming again, this time

shrieking like a

banshee, lost to al of it, her ass

squeezing down on the

plug as she lifted to meet his every

thrusting stroke, as he

began to slam hard into her, mixing

the pain that lingered

with a pleasure that wouldn’t be

denied. His hands

captured her breasts and squeezed the

nipples, and that

additional sensation rocketed her

higher. She was straining

back and forth against her restraints,

feeling everywhere his

remarkably ful y clothed body was

touching her, wanting to

serve him, devour him, hold him…

It was too much. Something broke

inside of her, that

concrete dam that had suppressed her

emotions, pain and

loss, disappointment…crushing

loneliness. It rushed over

her, driven over the wal by the

unstoppable force of that

climax and al that it meant, al that she

could no longer

deny. There would be no rebuilding

that wal , no matter what

happened. She was naked, shivering

and vulnerable,

protected from whatever came

howling toward her by one

man. One Master’s love.

That sense of timelessness again,

such that on the

downward slide, she found herself

blinking hazily, as if

she’d come out of a long journey into

a fantastical place,

and reality was hard to comprehend.

But on the downward

slide of that incredible climax, she

met Savannah’s gaze.

There she once again saw

understanding. Comprehension

of the panic and ecstasy, al wound

together, a restraint

even more frightening than physical

bonds. Rachel grayed

out some then, because the rush of

blood, the quivering of

nerves and limbs, overcame her. But

when she phased

forward in that hazy dream state,

those three beautiful

women had risen from their places at

the bar.

With Cass guiding Dana, they were

winding their way

around the edge of the crowd until

they reached the

platform. There, Lucas and Ben gave

them a hand up,

Peter and Matt bringing up the rear.

As they did, Jon

touched kisses al along the curve of

her spine. Some of

her hair had come down in the front

during her thrashing

like a feral creature. It wisped along

her cheeks, over her

eyes. He’d caressed it to the side

when he kissed her

neck. But now he was withdrawing,

his hands lingering on

her hips, giving her a squeeze before

his touch

disappeared. For a harrowing

moment, she was alone with

the crowd, no familiar faces before

her or in her peripheral

vision.

Then female hands stroked the hair,

finger-combed it out

of her face, helped to re-secure it

with the pins and sticks

she’d used. Rachel saw it was Cass,

her generous bosom

smel ing like a jasmine fragrance as

she leaned over

Rachel. Dana had a soft cloth, and

wiped her face, the

tears and remaining saliva. Pressing

her lips to Rachel’s

temple, she moved behind her, fol

owing the line of her

spine and hip with her slim fingers

until she located the

base of the anal plug and eased it out.

A third hand,

Savannah’s, Rachel assumed,

pressed on her lower back,

a reassurance as it was removed.

She didn’t see Jon, but she could
feel

him. He’d stepped

back, letting them cosset her, and

with al her senses so

open and vulnerable, she thought she

understood why. This

had been a punishment, and he was

letting the lesson sink

in by giving other submissives the

role of her aftercare.

They would comfort and soothe, but

he would wait to do so

until she did what every instinct told

her she was supposed

to do.

It was hard, so hard, yet every

emotional y exhausted

fiber of her knew she would do it.

However, she truly

needed this moment first. As Cass

and Dana gently and

efficiently cleaned between her legs

and buttocks, ran

damp, heated cloths down her legs,

over her skin,

grounding her in this world once

again, Savannah came to

her front, stroked her face. In her bent

position, Rachel’s

head was at the level of Savannah’s

breasts, the lace

edges of the bra and curves partial y

revealed by the button

Matt had slipped. Stil bound, Rachel

raised her gaze to the

woman’s face.

Savannah gave her a nod, then slid

her arms around

Rachel’s shoulders, letting her put

her face against that

perfumed bosom, take comfort in the

softness, the

understanding, the calm over the

storm. Her hands were

cool and strong, everything she

needed them to be.

Final y, her arms and legs were

uncuffed. She tried to

hold her own weight, but of course

she was stil trembling

too badly. As the three women held

her, she had one

rasping word on her lips.

“Jon.”

Savannah turned her toward him, her

arm around

Rachel’s bare waist. He stood a few

feet away, studying

her with those quiet intent eyes, the

way he’d so often

studied her during class. She moved

one foot forward, but

now Cass stopped her. Dana knelt,

urging her out of the

first stiletto, then the other. Now she

stood on bare soles,

completely naked, except for the col

ar he’d put on her. A

proper slave.

They wouldn’t let her move forward

without their help. The

pressure of her forward motion told

them where she wanted

to go, though, so she was leading.

When she reached him,

her knees let go. They slowed it

down, helped her sink in a

control ed movement to a kneeling

position. Then they

stepped back, that space on the stage

becoming a silent

circle for the two of them alone.

Lifting her attention to his beloved

face, Rachel let her

eyes dwel briefly on every feature,

then she swept her gaze

down, bowed her head. “I’m sorry,

Master,” she said softly.

She didn’t have the strength to say it

louder, but it was only

him who needed to hear it. “I’l try…

but I need you to remind

me I’m worth loving. It’s been so

long since…I felt loved. T-

thank you. Please…forgive me. I

need your forgiveness. I’m

so sorry.”

How could she make sense of the

tears that came now,

the fact that she was sorry, and

happy, and sad and

exhilarated, and exhausted? And al

his.

She waited, her gaze on his feet. As

she did, something

else happened. Hands settled on her

shoulders, a male leg

pressing against her bare hip. Peter

bent, tilted her head

back and kissed her on the lips,

offering a quick stroke of

her face with a tender hand. The cool

judgment she’d seen

when he sat in the chair was gone.

What was there now

was heat and comfort at once,

protective and kind. Then he

put pressure on her shoulder and

neck, directing her to

return her gaze to the floor. As he

stepped away it was

Lucas taking his place, lifting one of

her hands to kiss it,

fondle the fingers, teasing her chin up

for one brief second

to give her a nod, show her the

acceptance in his gaze as

wel before he stepped back.

This time her gaze returned to the

floor on its own,

understanding what was required.

Ben’s knuckles slid

down her spine, giving her a shiver

as he probed between

her buttocks, that opening that had

burned when he first slid

the plug in. Then his mouth touched

her nape, a nip and a

“Wel done”, before he too was gone.

She was hungering for some word

from Jon, some

indication that she’d met his

approval, but she couldn’t deny

how overwhelming this was. As wel

as a little scary, the

ramifications of being accepted in

such a way, the

responsibility. There was no going

back from this, no

retreat, because Jon now had enough

people to surround

her ful y. And while none of them

could stare into the depths

of her soul the way Jon could, they al

understood her in a

way that was too hard to resist.

Her chin was lifted once more and

now Matt Kensington

squatted in front of her, studying her

with dark,

unfathomable eyes, his hand strong

and sure on her face.

He didn’t say anything, just held her

in that gaze. With a

hard lurch in her chest, she

recognized it for what it was, a

moment like an ancient tribal ritual.

The leader didn’t need

to say anything. He was making a

point of looking at her, of

showing the others in the pack that he

saw
her. He

accepted her. And she’d never be

without family again.

The realization became something so

difficult to contain,

her fingers tightened on her knees.

She needed Jon so

badly she didn’t think she could

breathe another second

without him. And then Matt was gone

and he was there, her

Master.

She stared at his feet, directly in front

of her. She wanted

to surge up, wrap her arms around

him, have him hoist her

body up and let her cling to him with

arms and legs like a

child, but she waited on the knife-

edge, the most painful

thing she’d done so far. She was lost,

uncertain, and only

he could save her.

His long-fingered hands came into

the scope of her

vision first, closing on her hands and

lifting them. Then he

brought her gaze up to him as he

squatted, flanking her with

his knees. As he kissed each palm,

his gaze dwel ed on

her. She didn’t know what to cal

what she saw in his face. It

was love, yes, she couldn’t deny it,

but there was more. For

this one second she truly believed

she was the most

important thing in his life. A sense of

utter belonging and

possession wrapped around her,

making her feel more

warm, safe and loved than she’d ever

felt in her entire life.

“Forgiven,” he said. “Completely

and forever.”

* * * * *

Because she was stil so shaky, and

the showers and

changing rooms were on a lower

level, he carried her, the

others making a path for him through

the crowd. When he

reached the shower area, however,

he left her with

Savannah, Cass and Dana, giving her

a quiet smile,

caressing her face. The women

tugged her floating, dazed

self into a private but spacious

shower stal . With a lot of

strokes and kisses, they helped wash

so many things away,

leaving only the things that mattered.

Comfort turned in time to playfulness,

and it amazed her