Chasing Chelsea (18 page)

He cupped her breast, holding it firm and steady. He held her gaze just long enough for her to know it was coming, and then he bent.

She lost all her breath in a single gushing exhale when he claimed her nipple. The chocolate was sweet, but her reactions were even sweeter. She arched into his suckling kiss, flinched and squirmed when he punished with his teeth, groaned when he used his tongue to soothe the sting.

“Who am I?” he asked when she lay gasping and trembling beneath him.

“Master Kade.” She shivered.

“What am I to you?”

Her eyes stayed locked on him, wide and wondering. “You’re m-my Master.”

He tapped the tip of her nose with one gentle finger. “Don’t you ever question that again.
”

“Or what?” she asked. There was no hint of brattiness in her tone, only tentative curiosity. “Are you going to spank me again?”

Kade couldn’t help it. He leaned over her, bracing himself up on folded arms, their faces so close together that he could feel the shivering exhale of her next breath. “Do you think I can’t?”

Even more tentatively, she shook her head. “It feels too good when you do it. Please, don’t be offended,” she begged, as if afraid she might have hurt his feelings. Her cheeks turned a bright, rosy pink when she confessed, “I almost came the last time.”

How adorable.

Working to contain his amusement, Kade put the chocolate back on the cart. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said with a wink, and then he left her there, tied to the counter in the private kitchen of Sinclair’s candy shop with a few smeared dribbles of green chocolate drying on the curve of her breast and ribs.

“I’m going next door,” he called to Sinclair as he breezed through toward the main door. “Keep an eye on my subbie, if you would.”

“What?” He was almost outside before Sinclair popped her head out of the main kitchen. “Whoa, wait! You can’t leave! Y-you…” He didn’t look back, but he heard the bump of the door when she checked the spare kitchen. “Oh my God!” she said, and then came running after him. “Master Kade, you can’t leave her tied up in there by herself! It’s against the rules!”

As if he didn’t sit on the committee that came up with the rules. Kade shook his head and pointed for her to get back to work. “I’m not leaving her alone. I’m leaving her with you.”

“B-but…”

“She’ll be fine. I’ll only be a moment. Go back to what you were doing.” He let the door swing closed behind him and headed next door, straight into the gift shop. “Casey,” he greeted the man behind the register.

Young and willowy, the counter clerk looked up from his book in surprise. “We can’t be so short-staffed that they’re sending Masters to cover my lunch break?”

“Not hardly.” Knowing the store like he knew his own apartment, Kade headed for the back wall. “I’ve got a lovely little lady tied up next door and I left my toy bag in my room.”

“That was short-sighted.”

“Read your book, Romeo.”

Barking laughter, Casey nevertheless sat back in his chair and picked up his book again. “You’re supposed to get your extra supplies from Storage. When Marshall comes down to yell at me again, I’m sending him straight to you.”

“Fair enough.” Kade pulled several packages off the wall—assorted clamps, blindfold, there would be a Wartenberg wheel up behind the counter…what else did he need? He studied his options. He could strap a Hitachi wand to her clit and force her to orgasm over and over, but that would pretty much guarantee he’d be unable to draw a straight line anywhere on her beautifully vibrating body. So, he should probably save that for later on tonight…

“If you can’t stand to be away from her for the extra five minutes it would take to go to Storage, you must have a real looker tied…oh my God” Casey slapped his book shut, barking out a hard laugh of admiration. “You’ve got the Beauty next door, don’t you?”

That caught Kade’s attention. He looked up from a display of edible lubricants and assorted condoms. “
The
beauty?”

Casey blinked twice. “You’re kidding, right? For a change,
I’m
telling
you
about a hot babe instead of the other way around?”

“
What’s she look like?”

“Oh man, you can’t miss her. About
yea high—” The young man held his hand level to his shoulder. “—long, straight black hair all the way down her back, and the most gorgeous ass—the kind you’d just love to wear for, I don’t know, two or three days, at least.”

“Haven’t seen her,” Kade said, and it struck him somewhat oddly that he really had no pressing desire to. He already had a beauty waiting for him, and she was one he wanted to get back to. He selected a condom packet. He had two in his pocket, but the day was young and when days started out this good, the likelihood was great that two just weren’t going to be enough. And these were sensation condoms—warming, tingling,
icing…the good stuff. He took his purchases up to the counter.

“Don’t act like you don’t care.” Ringing up his purchases, Casey eyed him dubiously. “I know you, you ol’ horn-dog. You’ll leave here, finish up with
whomever and then you’re going to go hunting Beauty down. I think she was Indian.”

“Native American or India Indian?” The question popped out of him more from habit than any real desire to know. He half-heartedly tried, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel more than the
vaguest curiosity. He hadn’t even watched the new recruits step off the buses this morning. Usually he was right there, picking out potential conquests. How…how odd.

“The continent, I think. She was wearing a yellow bracelet, so that puts her in the Little Maid program. Whose room am I billing this to?”

“Mine.”

For the second time, Casey stopped and stared at him. He arched both eyebrows. “Seriously? This is on your dime, not Mystery Honeypot’s?”

“Don’t call her that,” Kade said, and much more harshly than he intended. The two men stared at one another in surprise for several long minutes.

“Okay,” Casey said, backing off. “Sorry.”

Grabbing his supplies, Kade quickly left the gift shop. What the hell was wrong with him? Beth had kept him dangling at the end of her rope for two long days now; he hadn’t put this much effort into seducing any one woman in years. Small wonder he had missed the unloading of the buses and was getting short with people, first Mischief, then Casey. If he wasn’t careful, people were going to start saying he’d fallen in love.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

H
e’d left her here. He’d just…left.

Chelsea felt like an idiot. She was tied to the table, naked, her legs spread to opposite corners and her hands above her head. Now and then, she half-heartedly tugged to free herself, but a part of her still held out hope that Kade might return. He hadn’t been mad when he’d left, had he? No, no she was pretty sure he’d laughed. Maybe she shouldn’t have said all that about his not being her master—she squirmed, uncomfortable just thinking those words in conjunction with herself. She’d always been so smart, so independent. Smart, independent women didn’t have masters. Yet, here she was. Not only liking Kade
but liking the things he did to her. It was all part of pretending to be a submissive at a place like the Castle. Once she left, her life and her sexual preferences would revert back to normal again. In the meantime, she really needed to work on being…well, more submissive and less inclined to say whatever popped into her head. When Kade came back, she was going to apologize for hurting his masterly feelings and then she was going to shut her silly mouth.

She blinked up at the ceiling, suddenly fighting back tears. How stupid was this? The only reason she was doing any of this was so she wouldn’t keep arousing Master Marshall’s suspicions. Did she honestly care if some perfect, gorgeous man like Kade thought she was a good submissive or not? No! When would she ever see him again anyway? Never, that’s when! In just a few days, she would be heading back to her normal life. No, better than normal. She would be going back to a new apartment, a new job…one that knew her as Chelsea, not Beth…and maybe a new boyfriend somewhere in her near future. Preferably one who didn’t work at the Castle and who wouldn’t care two figs for bondage games or ribbon ropes—she jerked at her firmly tied wrists—or spankings or…or chocolate body paints!

She sniffled. What was going on in her head that thoughts like that, which ought to make her happy as hell, actually had the opposite effect? Bondage boyfriends weren’t her norm! She’d never in her life wanted someone to tie her naked to anything or cover her in chocolate and promise to lick it off again in little concentric circles.

Kade was an ass. If she weren’t so humiliated about her predicament, she’d be yelling her damn head off for someone to untie her. She’d get off this damn table and go back to her room, where she’d stubbornly stay until this whole fake vacation was over and she could get the hell out of here. And probably where she’d indulge in a good, old fashioned, cathartic crying jag so she could get it out of her system before she did something completely insane, like march herself right up to Master Marshall’s office and demand to be matched to someone who went through with his concentric circle-licking promises.

How pathetic was that?

How completely pathetic was it that she had lain here for so long now that she’d actually counted the ceiling stones? Twenty-six from wall to wall and thirty-seven from back to door.

How pathetic was it that she’d rather lie here and cry than to face the embarrassment of calling out for help and letting others know that someone found her so undesirable that he’d just left her here?

She closed her eyes when she heard the swinging door swish softly open. The whisper of the rubber breeze blocker scraping the stones was followed by sure footsteps, letting her know for certain that she was no longer alone.

“Please help me up,” she said thickly. When she opened her eyes, the ceiling stones were all blurry and she felt with dismay the first salty drop sliding through her lashes and down the side of her cheek into her hair.

“From sun-up to
sundown, Red,” Kade replied. “That was the agreement. I’m not ready to let you go.”

What was more pathetic? Lying naked and neglected on the table waiting for this creep to return or the abject relief that shot through her when she realized he actually had?

She wanted to kick him.

“You son of a bitch!” she erupted, sobbing and gasping and lashing out with one foot when he dropped the sack he’d brought with him on a distant counter and quickly came to her. He dodged her foot with ridiculous ease. “Don’t touch me!”

He did anyway, his face filling up her entire field of vision when he bent over her, cupping her face and brushing her silly tears away. “Hey,” he soothed, caressing her, for a change not smiling at all. “What’s this? What happened?”

She tried not to answer, but he just kept waiting until she huffed and gave in. “I didn’t think you were coming back.”

“I told you I would.”

“Yeah, but you could have lied!”

“Why would you think I’d just leave?”

Again, she tried to avoid the answer, and again she caved when he remained right there, his face just inches from hers, his fingers caressing her cheek, in no hurry at all it seemed to do anything else but be with her.

She sniffled again. “Because I got mouthy, questioned your authority. Submissives aren’t supposed to do that, I guess.”

Kade arched an eyebrow. “According to whom?”

Chelsea had no answer for that. She shrugged one shoulder, at least as much as she could, tied as she was.

“Beth—”

“Don’t call me that.” She looked away. She felt too raw, too vulnerable. The last thing she wanted was to hear him address her by someone else’s name. She wanted him to talk to her, with her name rumbling like a purr up out of his deep chest. “Anonymity,” she said, inanely.

His handsome mouth flattened, but he obligingly started again. “Chelsea, then. How about we make an agreement not to worry about what doms and submissives are supposed to do? You
be you, and I’ll be me, and we’ll just act like who we really are. Agreed?”

She wished it didn’t sound as good as it did. She wanted to hold onto her anger and disappointment, too, but she was rapidly losing her grip on both.

“Agreed.” She sniffled again, wishing she had a tissue. “Before we do that though, would you mind standing down at the foot of the table for a minute?”

“I could.” His thumb was making those maddening passes back and forth across her bottom lip again, making all her thoughts turn to how good it had felt to kiss him. “Why?”

“So I can kick you really, really hard for leaving me alone like this.”

His chuckle wrung a reluctant smile out of her as well. “In that case, no, I won’t. But I don’t mind doing something else instead.”

“What?” she asked.

He caught her chin between his fingers, tipping her lips up to his. Softly, he kissed her, and for all that she had been so hurt and angry, it all melted for him now. She melted, her breath turning trembling, the tension in her body easing away to nothing.

“There’s my good girl,” he purred, rising once more above her. She tried to chase his lips, wishing that kiss could last, but he moved out of her reach. His hand never left her though. His fingers trailed her, wandering that familiar path down between her breast, across her stomach, directly over her sex as if they were lovers who had touched this way dozens of times before. Everywhere his skin met hers, she warmed. “Now, where were we?”

“Kissing?” she asked hopefully, unable to help how her back arched when he lightly caressed her stomach.

“Actually, I do believe I threatened to spank you. And if I recall right, you said that wasn’t much of a threat.”

When she heard the rustle of the paper bag, she lifted her head. “What are you doing?”

“Tormenting you.” He bent to press a heated kiss just inches above her navel. Her belly quivered, her breath catching when his tongue flicked her skin. Flick, lick, kiss…he moved gradually downward, laying a siege of gentle, nibbling kisses upon her mons. The heat of one hand moved in between her thighs. It was an assault from two directions and both made her burn for more.

Her body wanted him. Against all reasoning, it ached for each caress, each kiss and scrape of his unshaven chin as he made his way down the counter until he was standing between her legs.

“Do you like this, Red?” he mocked her. He had to know she did. His hands were right there—one branding his five-fingered touch on the outside of her hip and one already drenched in the moisture that flowed from her, a river of blatant wanting whose only equal was the showerhead in her bathroom.

She moaned, the only answer she could give. Her hips were moving, trying to bring his fingers from that teasing up and down stroke along the slit of her greedy pussy to pushing inside her.

“Since you aren’t impressed by the threat of my spankings, let’s see if we can’t find something else to make you behave.”

Her eyes had drifted closed again, so she opened them, wanting to see what he withdrew from that bag. He came back up the table with the item palmed at his side, for all intents hidden from her. When he cupped her breast and bent, she forgot about it entirely, arching up into his hot mouth, only too happy to burn
herself with his suckling kiss. Her breasts felt heavy, swollen, throbbing in time with the pulse in her pussy and womb. When he nibbled, she pulled at her bonds, wishing she were free so she could touch him. Wrap her arms around him. Pull him down onto the table on top of her.

“Look at me,” he coaxed.

She was having a real problem keeping her eyes open. Then she felt it—the cool grip of metal closing on the tight bud of her nipple, wet from his saliva.

When he released the clamp, it bit down hard enough to make her gasp. She arched all over again, the throbbing of her breast now feeling wounded, and yet how strange that he could make even that minor discomfort feel almost entirely good. The pain, what pain there was, didn’t last long enough even to be acknowledged as such. She arched again, eager to feel his hands as he walked around the table to her other side. He bent and she lifted, sighing when the heat of his mouth found her again.

He cupped her wounded—could it even be called that?—breast, feasting at the other and, oh, but his mouth was magical. He nipped and tugged at the nipple, and Chelsea wept, loving the sensation and feeling that pull all the way to her tightly curled toes. When the second clamp bit down, that hot pinch of pain throbbed into sheer ecstasy. Both breasts pulsed, heavy and full, as he walked down the table to her knees. He stroked the inner slopes, then reached up across her belly to grab the chain that ran between the clips and gave her nipples a tug. It didn’t hurt. It felt too good to hurt, but it left her grinding her hips on the table until all she could feel beneath her was wetness.

“What should I do to you next, mm?” Kade
lay the flat of his fingers directly over her clit, rubbing a soft circle over her labia before giving them a seemingly stern pat. “Perhaps I should spank you this way. Would that make you obedient?” Another pat. She panted, undulating, her legs fighting her bonds to spread even wider, give him greater access. “Well-behaved?” His smile was sheer devilry. “My good little girl?”

“No one calls me little.” She had no idea why she said that. He made it hard to think clearly. Oh, he had an erection. She could feel it, solid as the table beneath her, pressing on her shin as he rubbed against her just so she could feel it.

“I do.” He gave her breasts another tug, this one harder than before. He might have meant it to be punishing, but it felt too good to be such.

“I’m taller than you.” That was a lie and she knew it. He had an inch on her, maybe two. He knew it too.

“Liar.” He stopped touching her, and that right there was more of a punishment than anything else he could have done. Her groan came out like a sob, but his hands did not return. He went to his bag instead and pulled out the blindfold.

“What’s that for?” As if she didn’t know. She tried to duck away, but tied as she was, there was no escaping. He put it over her eyes and cut out the light completely. She couldn’t touch him and now she couldn’t see him either. The soft fur on the underside forced her eyes closed. She tried, but no matter how she peeked, she couldn’t find him. Her other senses kicked into overdrive, trying to make up for the lack. She heard him moving around her, heard him pick up a cup off the rolling cart and her skin prickled everywhere, knowing his touch now was eminent.

“Hold still.”

Warm and wet, the brush touched her skin. It wasn’t as ticklish as before, so maybe that had been due more to nerves. It felt good now, like teasing flicks of his tongue, and it went everywhere, moving over her hip and up her side, painting butterflies as it wandered the undercurve of her breast, teasingly drawing closer to her now aching nipples. Was that the brush or was it really his tongue, flicking at each tingling tip, jostling the clamps to make their bite temporarily harder? He blew, his breath at once both heated and cooling the liquid on her skin. She shivered.

“Hold still,” he admonished, and then his mouth found hers. He kissed her, first softly, then plundering when she opened for more. She tried again to chase his lips but he escaped her so easily and she sobbed because she couldn’t find him. The brush tickled the tender flesh between her knees. It must have been an artistic mistake because he immediately sucked it clean and in a strong, sure stroke, his tongue licked up her thigh. She caught her breath, but he stopped short of where she needed his mouth the most.

“Please!” she begged.

He parted the lips of her sex, peeling back the hood of her clit to expose her to the touch he refused to give. He blew instead, soft and torturously sweet. “Please?”