Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender (19 page)

Chapter Eight

Susannah

That thought wakes me up somehow. Makes me get a grip. I rub at my face and struggle to get up, even though it makes me wince. I can’t let him see how much I suddenly want more of him. The ‘session’ or whatever it’s called is over; even a novice like me can tell.

Jamie knows it too, his face a frowning picture as I get to my feet.

‘I’m sorry. I went at it too hard, didn’t I?’ He rises too, and after a moment’s hesitation, he takes me in his arms, cradling me again, careful of my punished bottom.

Oh, don’t do this
, I want to say.
Don’t be so wonderful. I’ll only want more.

But I can’t break away. He feels too good. Smells too good.
Is
too good.

‘It’s me who should be sorry. I thought I could take it, but I broke down like a ninny, didn’t I?’

His hand moves slowly and rhythmically on my naked back. ‘There’s nothing to be sorry about, Suzie. Your reaction is perfectly normal.’ His fingers still. ‘Maybe BDSM just isn’t your thing. It’s not for everybody.’

But it
is
my thing. It’s very much my thing—with him, at least.

‘I… I did like it. Really. It’s just intense. A shock to the system.’ I shrug, ease away, and look up into his eyes. ‘I suspect you’re very good at this. It’s just that I’m a beginner.’

‘And I should have made allowances,’ he says firmly, leaning down, kissing my cheek.

Desire surges, so confusing. I don’t even know what’s driving it the most: the spanking or his sweetness. Both probably. And part of me wants to get out of here before I reveal myself too much. But the rest of me, the greater part, wants to stay and make love.

Well… fuck, really. Jamie loved me once, but he doesn’t now, although I have the sneakiest feeling that I still do love him, even if it’s been buried, buried deep, for all these years.

‘Would you like me to take you home?’ His face is a little sad, wistful, almost as if he’s as confused as I am. ‘I’ll ring down for a taxi. Like I said, I never ride when I’ve had a drink, and that cute little suit of yours isn’t biking gear anyway.’

The words ‘Okay, that sounds great’ hover on my tongue, but disappointment and frustration scream through me. No, I won’t be denied. No way. Even if it’s just the once, I must have him again.

‘Well, that’s a very chivalrous offer, kind sir.’ I ease closer to him and press my pelvis against his. Despite his gallant offer, his cock is raging hard again, ready to rock. ‘But it feels to me as if there’s a rather pressing piece of unfinished business we need to attend to. Just for old times’ sake?’

Jamie

Oh God, woman, you’re amazing!

I know something weird happened with her just now. It was something emotional, something not quite what I want. But still she’s game for sex. Willing to satisfy herself, and me, and be pragmatic.

I shouldn’t take advantage of her. I should be a better man and insist on taking her home. Or perhaps give her another orgasm and then take her home. But I can’t resist her gorgeous body, and just the excitement of being with her again drives me crazy.

She’s Suzie, after all. My very first love.

I’ve never felt so confused in all my life. Well, I have, but only once, when we parted. But I’ve also never felt so turned on before either. Not even after the most rigorous and exotic discipline games.

‘Are you sure, love?’ I can see in her eyes she’s not quite sure, but she does this sort of amazing shimmying thing, more psychological than physical, bracing herself up.

‘Never surer.’ She licks her lips, back in control, as if I never had the upper hand at all. ‘Although I think I might have to be on top, what with all this…’ She reaches behind herself, touches her bottom, and then bites her lip.

‘Your wish is my command.’ Releasing her, I attack my zip and in a flash, I’m out of my jeans and underwear, naked like her. I grab her above the waist and hold her close again, pressing my cock against her as we stand pelvis to pelvis. The feel of her soft pubic hair almost makes me shoot my load against her thigh, but I do some bracing up of my own, taming my urges by pouring a stream of code through my mind. Within barely a second, I’m under control, still rock-hard, but not hair trigger.

Time to kiss. Really kiss.

Her mouth is pliant under mine, but firm too, deliciously plush. She tastes faintly of my semen but also champagne, an intoxicating blend. First she invites my tongue in deep, softening to me, but just when she’s got me where she wants me, she rallies back, twisting and teasing, a heavenly serpent. Our bodies surge and rock against each other, and astonishingly, she reaches behind herself with both hands and guides me down to her buttocks. She growls low within the kiss as my fingers cup her instinctively, but instead of pulling away again, she presses on the backs of my hands, urging me to grip harder.

She does like it. She really does. Just as I thought before, she’s a natural.

Once again, I’m fighting for control, mentally running more code.

Susannah

Why did I do that? I must be mad. But somehow the pain in my bottom is turning me on and fuelling my lust, ramping it up to such intensity that it overrides the turmoil of my emotions and makes them, at least, manageable.

‘Let’s fuck,’ I hiss at him, jerking my hips, squeezing his hands against me once more, then grabbing one and swirling around to lead him to the bed.

When I get there, it dawns on me that I don’t want to be on top. I want to feel the heat and sting of my spanking as he powers into me. Climbing on with far less grace than I’d like, I slither onto my back, riding the wave of fire. I can’t say I don’t notice the pain, because I bloody well do, but somehow, irrationally, it just increases my anticipation of the moment. The more I wriggle into place on the bed, the more the sensation surges and the more I long for him. Tugging at his hands, I urge him on board, and after a moment of contemplation, he complies.

With so much more elegance than I achieved. Like a beautiful pagan god, he looms over me, a creature of green eyes, black hair, and sexual majesty. He kisses me hard again, exploring my body with a rough, urgent hand, squeezing and assessing, making me gasp when he reaches beneath to stir the conflagration in my buttocks.

‘Whoever knew you were into this,’ he says, soft and low and fierce as he takes me, pressing his fingertips strongly into the sizzling heat. ‘How did I never guess all those years ago?’

Squirming, I drag my heels and rock my hips, not retreating from his hold on me, but just wanting to cram my sex against his and demand that he service me. ‘I didn’t know myself, then. I didn’t know anything. I was an idiot.’

‘No you weren’t. You were wonderful. You still are.’

For a moment my heart lifts, pain and even pleasure forgotten. Is there a chance?

Then I quash the thought. This is just a one-night stand. He was very emphatic on that score.

Don’t get big ideas, Suze.

‘I’m older. I know myself better.’

‘Me too.’

I push the thought away again, hopefully for good this time.

‘So let’s fuck then.’ That’s one way to take my mind away from troubling notions.

‘So randy…’ He laughs and rolls away, reaching for a condom from the bedside table. I noticed earlier that he’d laid out a few there while I was in the bathroom.

I begin to reach for him, to put it on for him, but he’s way ahead of me. He has the rubber on in flash, seemingly well practiced in their application. And why wouldn’t he be? He’s a handsome, accomplished man. He must have had dozens of lovers since me. What woman wouldn’t want him and succumb at the drop of a G-string?

Jealousy rears up, ugly and fluorescent green. I’m tormented by the idea of Jamie with other women.
He’s mine, he’s mine
, the silent, secret, deluded idiot wails.

But then he’s touching me again, driving out the idiocy with the touch of his perfect, narrow fingers, stroking and swirling at my clit in a skilled caress that’s sublime but not necessary to arouse me, because I’m already more aroused than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Even with him, before…

‘Yes,’ he says vaguely, almost to himself, as if pleased by my superreadiness.

Then he moves between my thighs and swiftly, deftly, guiding his cock with his fingers, he positions himself at my entrance. I’m so wet I fear he might slither out of alignment, but without hesitation he shoves in confidently, right to the hilt, as if he fucks me every day and every night and was in there only an hour before.

The pain in my bottom flares like fire as he jams me against the mattress, but I don’t care, I don’t care! He’s in me. Jamie Lennox is in me, and it
is
as if he never went away.

The fit of us is so right, the rhythm perfect. There’s no moment of acclimatisation. We’re in sync, smooth yet wild, and I’m right on the precipice immediately because I’ve been wanting this since I saw him again across the room, and the game and the pain have only doubled, trebled, the need.

He angles his body so he can rest on one elbow and looks down at me as he swoops his free hand down to seek out my clitoris. In his eyes, I see what I’m feeling myself. Well, most of it, the physical excitement at least.

He strokes me sweetly and I cry out, ‘Oh fuck! Oh hell!’ and climax.

He rubs as he thrusts, not missing a beat despite the furore of us rocking and slamming together. He spears me with his amazing, unblinking scrutiny, green fire as my bottom burns and my sex ripples and pulses and clenches in surging, ratcheting pleasure, swift and sure and silvery.

Unable to take the intensity, I snap my own eyes shut. I’ll give myself away. Give away my stupid, insane secret.

I still love you. I never stopped.

Thoughts fly away from me as I’m lost in sensation and gasping and shouting as Jamie comes himself, his hips working like a jackhammer.

Chapter Nine

Susannah

I’m probably just imagining it. It’s probably just the surprise of seeing him again that makes me think I still love him. Coupled with the sexy, matrimonial ambience of Sarah and Ben’s wedding. And the champagne…

It all adds up to an alchemical recipe that’ll fade as soon as I’m away from here and back in my normal life.

It still feels quite real though as I look down at Jamie.

He might seem like a pagan prince to me tonight, magical in his black raiment and the glamour of years of refining maturity… but he’s still just a man.

And men often fall asleep after sex. Especially good sex, something neither of us will deny we’ve just had.

As soon as I realise he’s sleeping and have enough time to get my breath back, I slither out of bed. I expect to wince from the spanking, but the soreness has ebbed quite spectacularly. Suppressed by orgasm hormones or something. It still twinges a bit, now I’m tidied up, having quickly washed and dressed, but it’s nowhere near what it was.

I hover beside the bed, looking down at him. Oh, he’s so gorgeous!

He looks younger in sleep, closer to what he was all those years ago, apart from the hair. The thick, black-silk mass of it is spread over the pillow now, tousled and magical. His sharp, angular features seem a little softer and more angelic in repose.

I start to reach out. Yearning to touch the silk, to stroke the beautiful face.

But I know I mustn’t. I’m going to leave now, taking my secret inner revelation with me. Hoping that it might prove to be just an illusion the further I get away from this strange, charged place and the event that brought us together.

Go now, idiot. Don’t make things harder on yourself. All he wanted was a one-night stand, and tomorrow, you’ll realize that you wanted exactly the same thing.

It’s tough, but after blowing a silent kiss, I steel myself and walk away, clutching my bag. At the door, I bless the efficient, well-oiled hinges and the almost noiseless lock mechanism.

I get away clear. No wonderful low voice calling out to me sleepily and undermining my good sense and resolve.

It’s better this way, but tears still stream down my cheeks as I find a set of back stairs to take me down to the ground floor. Fortunately, I get myself under control, and I think I look pretty much normal when I find myself out on the forecourt, and as luck would have it, a taxi is there with passengers just alighting. A look at my watch tells me it’s the small hours of the morning, but The Retreat seems to operate twenty-four seven.

As we pull away, I tense, hoping the taxi driver isn’t chatty. I’m in turmoil. I just can’t make small talk. Luckily he either picks up on my vibe or he’s not a chatterer, and I’m left to my thoughts and my muddle of joy and regret.

I don’t look back towards The Retreat where Jamie sleeps.

Jamie

I should have ‘woken up’. I should have confronted her. How could I allow it to end just like this? Again. Haven’t I learnt anything after all these years? Aren’t I grown-up enough to take what I want?

In the low light from the lamp, I lie pondering my inaction. Why? Why? Why?

And yet I know why. This is
her
choice. She just wanted the one night, an interlude of experimentation, to fill in the gaps in her erotic repertoire. It was never more than that. Why had I started to think otherwise?

Restless, I sit up and snap on the light. I can’t impose my wishes and desires on Suzie. We’re both very changed people. Grown-up ships, passing in the night.

I’m not going to sleep now. How about some hot chocolate? There’s a sachet or two with the tea-making paraphernalia, or I could ring down for some, freshly prepared. I settle for the sachet. I don’t want to talk to anyone just now, except Suzie.

Looking around the room, I seem to see us, in a movie of what we just shared. I see her beautiful body. I thrill to her fortitude and her eagerness to play. And see me, filled with wildness and a more intense, erotic energy than I’ve experienced in a long time.

A goddess from the past, she made me feel like a god. My cock stirs again at the very thought. Shall I masturbate? Pay tribute to her?

But somehow the physical response seems detached from me. I’m more concerned with my heart, and my thoughts. The sachet chocolate is surprisingly good when I make it, and the theobromine or whatever it is that makes it so irresistible brings a strange clarity to my thinking process.

I’m
not
going to let her go this time. I think if I can talk to her again and state my case, we can at least spend more time together. Share more pleasure. Even if it’s never more than that…

This secret night just isn’t enough for either of us. I feel that. I suspect she’s just being cautious out of habit, because that’s always been her way. But I just want to see her again, not share her life.

Keep telling yourself that, buddy.

A smile forms on my lips as I savour the creamy chocolate. Who knows what’s ahead, but there won’t be anything if we don’t give it a try, will there?

Dammit though, I have commitments, work stuff I need to travel for. I’ll be on a jet tomorrow, heading to America for a big negotiation that’s going to make me a lot of money. The idea of just cancelling flits through my head, but it’s not my habit to inconvenience people or mess up plans and arrangements.

Suzie isn’t going anywhere, and a few days to crystallize my thoughts will do me good. Make me surer of what I want and how to secure it in a way that’s best for both of us.

My chocolate finished, I lie down again, thinking, thinking, thinking. And because it’s thoughts of Suzie and what we did together, inevitably my cock rises, hard again.

Why not?

I take myself in hand and imagine the glide of my fingers is the glide of hers, or perhaps the caress of her perfect lips.

It’s a way to be together when we’re not together.

Yet.