From Leather to Lace (8 page)

He swiftly stood upright and caught her in his arms as her sudden orgasm left her weak and boneless. She was panting, perspiration glistening on her face, as he kissed her softly.

“Wow,” she muttered, “that was quick.”

Maxwell wrapped his arms around her, picked her up and gently placed her on the bed. She removed her sequinned top and unclasped her bra and watched as he quickly undressed and joined her. His body was hard and muscular and made her breath hitch in appreciation. He really did have a spectacular body and right now that body was gliding slowly towards hers, inciting in her a wild anticipation and urgent need to have him touch her again.

“You are so beautiful, Sarah.” He pressed her shoulders gently to the mattress. His lips touched hers lightly before he plunged his tongue into her mouth as his kiss turned urgent and rough. She moaned appreciatively and threw her arms around his neck as she thrust her hips up furiously, wanting to feel him against her.

“Not so fast, baby,” he commanded as he ran a hand lightly down her side to her hip. She gasped as his fingers found the delicate folds between her thighs. He dipped one finger then two inside her, making her cry out in pleasure as she bucked against him.

He kissed her lazily and caressed her tongue with his, probing her mouth in time with the sweet rhythm of his fingers moving in and out of her. She felt the pressure start to mount once more, felt that familiar tightening and fluttering in her core.

“I can tell that you’re close. Come again for me, baby,” he demanded, his mouth on hers, as he continued a slow, sensual assault on her sex. He ran a wet finger over the swollen nub of her clitoris and massaged the swollen bundle of nerves until she climaxed again, digging her fingers into the hard muscles of his shoulders as she shuddered around him.

“I can feel it when you come, it’s such a turn-on when you spasm around me.”

She felt his erection hard and throbbing against her belly. She reached between their bodies and grasped him to stroke him hard.

“God, baby, I’m so hot for you right now, if you keep doing that I’ll come too soon,” he ground between clenched teeth.

“
You
come for me now,” she whispered as she continued to stroke him.

“Not like this. I need to be inside you,” he insisted, pulling away from her and reaching into the bedside table. He sheathed himself quickly. His eyes, dark and hungry with need, met hers as he grasped her knees and forced them up against her chest so she was fully open to him before he plunged inside her hard and fast.

She gasped at the sensation of him stretching and filling her.

“Fuck, you are so tight and wet,” he growled as he stilled inside her and tried to maintain control.

She wriggled beneath him, desperate for him to move. “Please, Maxwell,” she begged.

“Not yet, baby. Let me feel you around me.” After what seemed like an eternity he pulled out of her slowly, right to the head, then plunged into her again deeply. She groaned and dug her fingernails into his shoulders as he dipped his head to her breast and sucked a nipple into his mouth, biting on it then soothing her with his tongue. She opened her legs wider and bucked her hips as he thrust into her again. Moving her hands down his back, she grabbed his backside and pulled him more deeply into her, arching her back to thrust her breast farther into his mouth.

He brought his head up so he could stare into her eyes before he dropped his mouth to her ear and bit softly on her earlobe. She gasped as the sensation sent a quiver of pleasure straight to her centre. She moaned and ran a hand up his spine to grab a fistful of his hair to hold him to her.

“Come on, baby. Come for me one more time,” he muttered against her ear as his thrusts became faster and harder. He slammed into her again and again, grinding his pelvis against hers so he rubbed deliciously against her clitoris each time he pushed into her. She felt the ripples of pleasure start to crest as she frantically bucked against him.

“Oh God, I’m close,” she cried as he swept her higher and higher until at last she was at the summit where she teetered deliciously on the brink before tumbling into a toe-curling orgasm. She clenched around him, her internal muscles milking him and triggering his own climax.

* * * *

Sarah awoke to the delicious smell of coffee mixed with the scent of Maxwell’s aftershave as he leaned over her and kissed her good morning. She stirred and opened her eyes. He was dressed for work in a smart business suit, collared shirt and dark blue tie. He looked sexy and powerful and the mere sight of him set a fluttering deep in her belly.

“I have to go, sweetness, I have an early meeting. Stay as long as you like. I’ll send the car back to pick you up and take you home.”

“I can call for a taxi,” she mumbled sleepily. “I don’t want to put anyone out.”

“You won’t be putting anyone out, Sarah. Will I see you this evening?”

She stretched as she tried to form a response. “I have to work tonight and, being a Friday, I expect it will be a late one.”

She thought she detected a slight narrowing of his eyes as he studied her intently. “What about tomorrow, will you come out on my boat?”

“Tomorrow I can do,” she said with a smile as she sat up to brush a kiss across his cheek.

“Good. I’ll pick you up at ten.” He ran his finger lightly down her jaw before he stood up. “I’ll see you then,” he said as he left the room.

Ten was a little earlier than she normally liked to make arrangements after an evening of work, but the anticipation of seeing Maxwell would no doubt keep her energised. She smiled to herself as she slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom. She would have a quick shower, head home and try for some more sleep before she left for Fantasy.

Chapter Seven

After bending to slip on a shoe, Mistress Kitty stood and assessed her reflection in the mirror—not too bad. She wore fishnet suspender stockings with stiletto platforms. Her leather skirt was split up the middle to her waist. Underneath she wore a red and black corset body suit. Her nipples were tantalisingly perceptible beneath the gauze bustier and her dark hair hung in a thick braid over one shoulder.

As she applied the finishing touches to her makeup she brooded about the previous week and her sessions for that evening. She had only managed to spend Thursday night with Maxwell owing to her commitments as Mistress Kitty, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to make up reasonable excuses for the evenings, particularly when he had suggested that he might stop by the restaurant where she had said she worked. She suspected that her waitressing pretext would soon generate further questions. It was fortunate that he hadn’t questioned her explanations thus far but she wondered how long she could keep up the charade.

Then there was her feeling of restlessness, which she felt sure was affecting her work, as her mind just didn’t seem to be on the job—not that her job required too much discussion or in-depth thinking, she reflected, but any perception of preoccupation just wasn’t fair to her clients. That brought her thoughts full circle to that evening and a particular client that was causing her anxiety—Mr X.

She had noticed yesterday that Mr X had booked another Friday evening session. Even though she had told Mr X she wouldn’t agree to another session with him, she hadn’t in fact mentioned anything to Madam Boudica. After some reflection, she had decided that another session with Mr X could provide an interesting diversion. After all, Mistress Kitty was a Dominatrix and it would take more than a challenging client to put her off her game.

When she had asked Madam Boudica about Mr X she had merely replied that Mistress Kitty had once again been requested specifically and that he wouldn’t accept anyone else.

Kitty had managed to push thoughts of him aside but as the evening loomed closer she couldn’t help but think about him. She recalled their last session and she felt a fluttering of desire as she remembered his hard body and the feelings that he had evoked in her, and consequently she was more than a little nervous about their impending session that evening. However, she determined to keep the upper hand this time around as it wouldn’t do her reputation as a Dominatrix any favours to have a client get the better of her. Checking her watch, she headed out of the door and downstairs to meet Monty who would drive her the short distance to Fantasy.

* * * *

Mistress Kitty had just finished her third session for the evening and was in her dressing room reapplying her makeup before Mr X’s session. She was rather tired and hoped fervently that Mr X would behave himself and act like the submissive he was supposed to be. She didn’t think that she was up to a sparring match. Donning her mask, she took one quick look in the mirror and, satisfied with her appearance, she left her dressing room and headed to the dungeon.

Mr X was waiting for her and, like last time, the sight of him took her breath away. He definitely had one of the best bodies that she had seen on a man—in fact, he was uncannily similar in build to Maxwell, which gave her a sudden sense that he seemed familiar. Then just as quickly the sense of familiarity disappeared. Warily she stepped over the threshold and faced Mr X. She thought she could detect a narrowing of his eyes beneath the mask he wore as his gaze travelled the length of her body.

“Something doesn’t please you, Mr X?” she purred.

“I am very pleased,” he replied. “What man wouldn’t be when your assets are so temptingly on display?”

Smiling slyly, Mistress Kitty drew her whip up and, with a flick of her wrist, expertly sent it whistling through the air with a loud crack.

“Intimidation tactics now, is it?” he asked mockingly.

“I’m merely warming up,” she snapped as she stepped towards him. Quickly she spun him around to face the wall, then grasping one of his arms, then the other, she locked the wall manacles securely around his wrists. She paced back and kicked each of his legs apart until they were level with the floor shackles and stooping quickly, she swiftly secured him by each ankle until he was fastened in a star-shaped configuration.

“No resistance this time, Mr X?” she asked, surprised that he had so willingly allowed her to shackle him.

“I’d like to see Mistress Kitty in action,” he replied drily. “Do your worst.”

“Confirm the safe word,” she demanded.

“Red.”

She further asked him to confirm the words and actions that would determine how much force she would use. When she was satisfied that he remembered all the instructions she prepared to begin.

“Are you ready for my whip, Mr X? You were a very naughty boy last session,” she said, snapping her whip for emphasis.

Stepping forward, she ran the handle of the whip hard down the middle of his back, stopping just above the waist of his leather pants. She couldn’t help but admire the way the rigid plane of his back and shoulders rippled deliciously under her touch.

She looped the whip to her side and picked up two clamps, similar in appearance to sharp pegs, then ducked under his arm so she could face him. She ran a finger along his tightly clenched jaw then caressed her hands lightly up and down his chest until she felt him shudder. She raised the clamps and attached one to each of his nipples, making him grunt at the sudden pressure.

“It did say in your notes, Mr X, that you enjoy pain,” she murmured as she tweaked each clamp to test it was secure. He hissed a breath between clenched teeth but said nothing.

She ducked back under his arm and unlooped the whip from her waist. She ran the handle up and down his spine once more, enjoying the ripple effect of his muscles, before she drew it behind her and sent it whistling through the air to land on his back. His body arched at the contact. She waited a moment for him to adjust to the sensation and to give him a chance to say his safe word. When he said nothing, she drew the whip back a second time and sent it once more cracking through the air to land on its target.

Her lashes were administered carefully and intended not to draw blood, but the whip still left red marks where it connected with his skin and she knew through experience that it could be painful. As a Dominatrix she underwent training and BDSM initiation that involved being on the receiving end of various instruments of punishment—so she understood the physical effects of being whipped.

“How many, Mr X? I think we shall start with sixteen. You committed a lot of misdemeanours during your last session—now you must be punished.”

She cracked the whip once for effect before she sent it whistling through the air once more to connect with his back. She had administered twelve lashes, counting as she went and careful to spread the blows evenly, before she stopped. His back was now criss-crossed with angry red welts but he was very quiet. Unlike her usual clients who seemed to take just as much pleasure in writhing and moaning as from the actual whipping, Mr X had been curiously calm. But for an occasional hiss of breath he had remained largely silent.

“What is the safe word, Mr X?” she asked in concern.

When she received no response she swiftly unshackled his ankles then one of his wrists and had just unloosed the other when she felt firm hands grab hold of both her arms. Startled, she was unable to react before he spun her around to face him and before she could resist she found her wrists shackled. Quickly regaining her senses she tried to kick out with one leg but he pre-empted her and shackled both her ankles so that she was now pinioned facing him, star-shaped against the dungeon wall in his place.

Her heart rate quickened in alarm. He must have seen the apprehension in her eyes because he said calmly, “Relax, Mistress, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” she responded angrily while she looked longingly at the panic button located on the far wall.

He followed her gaze and said with a chuckle, “Just having a little fun, no need to panic. I will untie you immediately. You only have to ask me.”

She thought about her position—she really didn’t believe that he would hurt her but being restrained made her a little nervous—it had been a long while since she had been in a submissive role. She would play along with him for a short while, she was still the Dominant
and
only had to say the safe word to be released. Also, he was the customer and apparently paying a lot of money for her services so provided that he remained within Fantasy rules and her own comfort zone she would allow him the lead—for the time being.