Second Time Lucky (Club Decadence Book 5) (12 page)

BOOK: Second Time Lucky (Club Decadence Book 5)
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Abruptly, he stopped. His hand drifted over her quivering globes. While he paused, she tried to catch her breath and compose herself.

“You are taking this well. Where are you?”

“Still green, Master.”

“Excellent, then you can stand a bit more. Have you figured out what this is yet?”

“I haven’t a clue, but whatever the hell it is, you can leave it behind. I’ll take the fur.”

The audience chuckled at her saucy tongue, especially when it earned her two successive swats on her upper thighs, right at the curve of her lower cheek.

“Ow!”

Four more landed.

“Why are you being punished, Mara?”

“For my unruly tongue.”

“Yet you continue to let it lead you down the wrong path. Kindly shut that beautiful mouth or we’ll be here all night. This is a riding crop by the way, with a nice wide leather slapper. If it’s not up to the job, I have no qualms about taking our new friends’ advice and fetching a tawse, a cane or giving your naughty pussy a good strapping.”

“No! The crop is up to the job. I’ll be good from now on. I swear.”

“Swearing is what earned you more. Strive for silence, Mara. Sighs and moans are allowed or an occasional ouch, nothing else. Except for your safewords, as always.”

Without waiting for a reply, he peppered her upper thighs with stroke upon stroke from the crop. She had no idea how many he gave her, but by the time he finished, her cries had risen above the hum of the crowd and over the raw edgy sound of Rob Zombie’s
Never Gonna Stop
.

She knew it was over when she felt the plush, soothing fur again. He ran it all over her backside and thighs to the applause of the observers, some called out approval to Sean, thanking him for providing such an “amusing scene” while others congratulated him on having such a “lively and entertaining submissive.” Mara heard a few more grumbling about how he’d let her off too easy.

Some minutes later, after a thorough rubdown from the decadent fur, he moved around to the front of the bench and squatted once again.

“Master?” she whispered, her attention on his dark head as he unfastened her wrists.

“Yeah, baby?” he replied, glancing up while working the buckles.

“Are we going to, uh…? I mean, are you going to fu—um, take me here?”

“Not tonight. I think you’ve had enough.” He leaned in, his lips touching hers lightly. “Let me get you undone. We’ll cuddle over on one of the couches for a bit, then head on home for the taking in private.”

“Thank you for being patient with me.”

“It was definitely my pleasure, nightingale.”

After the last restraint was released, he helped her from the bench. When she swayed a bit from the sudden change in position, Sean promptly scooped her up in his arms. As he strode from the station, a woman in black leather, tall, blonde and quite beautiful from what she could see around her mask, met them with a bottle of water and tucked a soft blanket around Mara.

She patted Mara’s arm before saying to Sean, “Maybe I’ll convince you of the benefits of a good pussy whipping someday.”

As Mara sucked in a gulp of air in shock, the Domme smiled, nodded to Sean and walked away.

“She’s a sadist.”

“Apparently.”

“It’s hard to believe she works with the state department in areas of diplomacy.”

“Which is most likely the reason she comes here.” His comment was for her ears only as he carried her to a quiet corner where a few cozy couches were set aside for aftercare. “Imagine having to represent the U.S. and the president, no matter who you’re dealing with and what their beliefs may be, all while biting your tongue and plastering on a fake, albeit believable smile. Here, she can ditch the mask, at least figuratively, as well as the politically correct filters and be who she really is.”

Mara shuddered.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I couldn’t do it either.”

“Actually, I was feeling badly for her poor slave. She’s scary.”

With a chuckle, he settled on one of the couches in the dark corner with her on his lap. He encouraged her to drink her water as he cuddled her close, curling her against him on her hip and off her sensitive behind. A different sub sporting a collar identifying her as the Baron’s quietly handed Sean a tube of something. As she wondered how many subs the owner claimed, Sean flipped aside the blanket baring her tingling cheeks. She stiffened, about to protest when he began spreading a cool cream all over her hot skin.

It felt so good, she settled against him deciding she no longer cared who saw her red butt, especially since it had been on prominent display for the past half hour. After about fifteen minutes of alone time, which included whispered assurances, gentle kisses and soft caresses, Mara decided aftercare was worth anything Sean could mete out. As she shifted, her tender bottom scraping along the fabric of his pants made her wince. Immediately, she rethought her crazy notion.

As if the cocoon around them was time-limited, club members started coming up and introducing themselves, some alone, others in pairs. After a while, Mara noticed the Baron seated beside them, Sean’s crop and fur paddle in hand. She shook her head, amazed at his stealth.

“Don’t forget your tools, Master Sean. I think your sub earned the furry paddle.” With his long arms stretched across the back of the couch and one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, he seemed at home, which Mara supposed technically he was. As he spoke, he scanned the crowd, on constant alert should he be needed. “I hope you two enjoyed your first visit. Some of the members have talked and we’d like to extend provisional membership. Health screenings and testing, as well as a few other formalities need to be taken care of, but considering Pete’s recommendation, I’m sure all will check out fine.”

“We’d like very much to return, although I found out today I’ll be shipping out soon.”

“Sorry to hear, you two are the talk of the club, as I knew you would be. We have a per visit membership rate that might interest you, for officials who cycle through the capital. It’s very common among the military and congressional members.”

Mara, who’d been nearly dozing, perked up, amazed that members of Congress played here. Then again, if a sadist from the state department could come and play, why not a senator. Images of some of them in fetish wear, particularly the older ones she’d seen on the news, made her grimace. She had a flash of the president, stringing up the first lady for a session with a flogger. The image suddenly switched, as did their positions, which made her giggle.

Sean didn’t let it pass. “What’s funny, baby?”

“An odd random thought, Master, nothing important.”

“I’ll send your membership information along when everything is approved. We hope to see you and your delightful sub around The Cage again soon.” The Baron handed Sean a card and left them alone. It was the first time all night Mara actually saw him go.

“So what did you think of your first club outing?”

“It was an eye-opener and I rather enjoyed it, except for the crop, that is.”

“Baby, you loved every minute of it, especially the crop.”

She bristled, but only until he slid his hand between her thighs, pulled aside her damp panties and sank two fingers easily into her drenched pussy.

“Care to change your answer?” He slid in and out, as his thumb began to circle her clit.

“Sean, I’m on the edge. A few…” She paused to suck in air as he inserted a third finger. “A few more minutes of this and I’ll come right here on your lap.”

“I’ll have you coming all over my hand in seconds, not minutes. You were wet the entire time I had you on that bench and your pussy practically wept when I used the crop. Your thighs were glistening and I could smell your heat.”

She turned her face into his neck. Not only to hide her embarrassment, but to muffle her cries of release. She was about to go off like a rocket any second. “Could the… others see?”

“I’m sure they could. You were awesome, Mara. Beautiful, sexy, very aroused and undeniably hot.”

“How humiliating.” Her actions were incongruent with her words, however, as she writhed against him, draping a leg over his forearm as she opened wider for his busy fingers. His hand turned over on the next inward motion, the pads of his fingers pressing against the front wall of her pussy, the slow glide robbing her of breath.

“Nonsense, this is a sex club, darlin’. People come here all the time.”

As if on cue, a woman somewhere in the room screamed out in an obvious orgasm. It was raw, earthy and undoubtedly satisfying.

“Case in point.” Sean grinned down at her. “Let’s see if you can top her. Come for me, baby, coat my fingers with your sweet honey.”

Another few twists and thrusts from his fingers, along with the increased friction of his thumb on her clit, had her ready to soar as predicted. The muscles in her belly trembled with tension, as her back arched, drawn tight like a bow. As the thrill of her orgasm washed through her, she turned into him, pressing her face against his chest to muffle her cries.

“No. I want them to hear you. Show them how much pleasure you find at your Master’s hand.”

With his permission, she let loose. Her release coming from all the way down in her toes, it rolled up and out of her as he fingered her to a stunning, carnal conclusion. In contrast to the last sub’s cry, Mara’s was deeper, more of a keening moan. It was as wildly unrestrained, however, and equally appreciated by the other club members who murmured their praise, a few offering more rousing endorsements.

His lips found hers as she came down, his tongue diving in deep, tasting and stroking her mouth until she was breathless. He then sat her on his knee and quickly dressed her, the skirt was easy, the lace up corset not so much. Before long, she was set to rights with all her important parts covered once again.

They left to friendly calls of goodnight and hope to see you soon, not bothering to explain that their attendance would be hit or miss. Sean had her tucked in his SUV the next minute and was steering them toward home. It wasn’t long before he was unlocking their front door and hurrying her inside. They hadn’t gone more than a step before he lifted her and then toppled her ass up, head down over their high back couch.

“I need you now.”

Skirt up, panties down, the next instant he was inside her. It was spectacular in its carnality as he took her fast and rough. Skin slapped against skin, harsh breathing pervaded the room and their impassioned cries filled the air. Mara, who was on edge despite her previous release, came first, crying out his name as she gripped the couch cushions. Sean was right with her, echoing her cries as he pistoned into her, his cock driving home as his hips and thighs smacked her ass. He pulled her upright and with his hand cupping her jaw, turned her head for his kiss. As he came, surging hot inside her, his body shuddered and his groans of pleasure filled her mouth.

Spent and panting furiously, they leaned against the couch in recovery mode.

“I love you, and I very much enjoyed you exploring with me tonight.”

“Me too, Lucky. I have decided we are a perfect, twisted perverted pair. I need the submission and discipline as much as you need to dominate.”

“I knew you were perfect for me the moment I saw you. I’m a damn lucky man to have found you.”

“I love you so much, Sean.”

“Will you marry me, Mara?” In a low husky tone by her ear, his words like his body surrounded and filled her up. “I’m not prepared. I don’t have a ring and I shouldn’t be screwing this up like this, but I want you in my life forever. I love you more than anything and with me buried inside you like this, the place I most want to be, I had to ask.”

She twisted in his arms, apologizing for her sudden movement with him still lodged inside her. Standing on tiptoe, she entwined her arms around his neck and declared, “Yes, absolutely, I’ll marry you. And you didn’t screw up anything. That was a beautiful, heartfelt proposal, Sean. I’ll never forget it.” She giggled as she kissed him. “It was so perfect, in fact, from now on, every time we do it over the back of a couch, I’ll relive this moment.”

“Damn romantic, aren’t I?” He laughed against her lips before he deepened the kiss, ending her giggles. When he lifted his head, he smiled down at her. “You’re off this weekend; we’ll go ring shopping.”

Her eyes misted. “You’ve made me so happy, Sean. After growing up as I did, well… it wasn’t good and then I struggled on my own for a long while. I never thought I’d find someone like you. I wasn’t expecting it, but you showed up out of the blue and turned my boring, monotonous life on its ear. I know we’re going to be gloriously happy together.”

“I do too, baby. Prepare for something wonderful, Mara Westbrook soon-to-be O’Brien, because this is only the beginning.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

Dragging her body from her lonely albeit warm bed, Mara forced her arms through her robe to ward off the chill in the apartment, then trudged to the kitchen and the coffee pot. Going through the motions on autopilot, she made her two cups and slumped onto one of the bar stools to wait.

As she did, she opened her laptop to check her email, smiling at a message from
[email protected]
. She couldn’t get over his buddies calling him Mick. With his Irish heritage, it could be considered a slur, though he didn’t seem to mind. In their group, everyone had a handle. Tony Rossi their Captain was Cap for obvious reasons. Rick Spencer was called Beast for some scary incident in his past, as well as Chief because he was their Chief Warrant Officer. Then there was Dex whose abbreviated name was cool enough that he didn’t need another one, Lil T who was far from little, and Jonas, who had more names than she could recount, C4, tech, pretty boy and Romeo coming to mind right off.

She clicked on Sean’s email. The short but sweet message contained reminders of how much he loved her, missed her and couldn’t wait to hold her again. Misty eyed, she saw that there was also an attachment. She opened it and while she waited for it to download, got up and poured herself a cup of black coffee. Too eager to wait, she sipped it on her way back, burning her tongue. As such, she didn’t see the screen until she sat down. When she did, tears prickled behind her eyelids. On screen was a pic of Sean in his camo ACU’s surrounded by his teammates, all sporting ear-to-ear grins. They each held a handwritten sign. There was Medic Mopey, Sergeant Sourpuss and Green Grump, underneath each one was an arrow pointing to Sean. One proclaimed P.W. Beret, the small letters underneath spelling out “pathetically whipped”, not pussy whipped, as she would have guessed. Another said Liberate the Depressed, which was a play on the Special Forces motto of Liberate the Oppressed. Sean’s sign read simply, “I miss you, baby.”

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