The Drake Restrained Compete Collection: Part 1 - 4 (The Drake Series Book 7) (52 page)

Kate seemed fascinated with that scene, and watched, entranced, as the Dominant rammed into her, hard, his hands on her hips, pulling her to him with each thrust.

I stood behind her, one hand on her belly, the other wrapped around her and resting on her neck to measure her pulse and respirations. I needed to know what she responded to, and what she disliked.

"You
like
this scene," I whispered in her ear. "Your pulse just increased, your breathing is shallower. If I slipped my fingers between your lips, you'd be nice and wet. Do you want to try this one day?"

"Yes, Master," she said, her voice a bit shaky. "Except for the ball gag and the cane."

I squeezed her and she held my hands, which were now clasped around her waist. "What do you think of all this, Katherine?"

"I think that these people need each other, Master," she said. Then, after a moment, she turned to me. "I need
you
," she said quietly.

I bent down and kissed her neck. "I think it's time to go back upstairs," I said, my voice a bit husky.

"Yes, Master."

I took her back up the stairs and out of the darkness with its heavy scent of sweat and sex. We passed through the bright salon where couples stood and watched demonstrations of various techniques, and through the next room with darker lighting, where people danced to a VJ playing some Latin music. There was a video projected on a wall and a mirror ball spinning, casting the room in thousands of sparkles.

We stopped at the edge of the dance floor and I took Kate in my arms and started to dance, placing one of her hands on my hip and the other on my shoulder while I held her hips. We swayed together for a few moments, and she seemed to really enjoy dancing.

"Drake Morgan, MD," she said, smiling back at me. "I didn't know you could dance, Master."

"Oh, I have been known to cut a rug from time to time."

"Cut a rug?"

I laughed. "It's an old term for dance."

I led her around the dance floor for a few moments, smiling broadly. The next song was slow, and we danced close together, her arms around my neck, mine around her waist, her head on my shoulder, my face in her neck. The scent of her perfume, the warmth of her skin, the floral in her hair, and the soft swell of her breasts against my chest all conspired to give me a semi and I squeezed her closer for a moment, pressing my hips against her.

"Ms. Bennet, I think I want to fuck you now," I whispered in her ear.

"Yes, Master," she said in a breathless voice.

I took her hand and led her out of the ballroom and to the staircase, back to our bedroom. I pulled her over to the bed and threw her onto it. She laughed as she bounced. I climbed on top of her, smiling.

I was in no hurry. I rested on my hands above her, my eyes moving from her face lower to her breasts and belly. Then I bent down and kissed the tops of her breasts, which bulged out over the bodice of her leather dress.

"You look delectable."

I lay to the side of her and pulled the leather bodice down just a bit so that her nipples poked out over the edge. They puckered in the cool air. I began to suck and nibble them, and was rewarded with her arched back and closed eyes.

"Master," she said, writhing beneath my mouth. "Are you going to tie me up?"

"Shh," I replied and sucked one nipple into my mouth, my tongue circling the areola. She groaned and arched her back, pressing her breast into my face. I pulled away briefly. "A slave doesn't ask what her Master has planned. She just waits. But I think I'm going to just fuck you missionary style tonight."

She frowned.

"Don't do that," I said, touching her mouth. "Kate, you have to let me decide how I want to fuck you. It shouldn't be your concern. You're going to come one way or the other, so leave this up to me. Do you understand?"

She nodded and let her mouth fall open slightly. "Yes, Master. I'm sorry. I just thought…"

"When we're in scene, don't think of anything but pleasing me. If it pleases me to fuck you missionary style, it should please you to comply."

She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. "Yes, Master. I apologize. I just can't help but be curious why. I thought at a BDSM party…"

How could I explain why I wanted to fuck Kate this way? I could have tied her up, blindfolded her, and treated her like an object for my pleasure, but she was more than that to me now.

"I like contrasts and appreciate irony, Kate. Downstairs, everyone's busy getting their kink on, and here we are, fucking like a pair of ordinary lovers."

She opened her eyes and stared into mine for a moment. "So this is an ironic fuck, Master?" she said, unable to keep a grin from starting.

I smiled widely at that. "
Very
ironic. How transgressive are we to fuck like this at this party? Now
shh
and spread your legs wide like a good vanilla girl."

I very deliberately and very slowly began to seduce her with my touch and my mouth and my words, whispering in her ear how much I wanted her, what I would do to her. I undressed her slowly, removing the dress and garter belt and hose, for although I loved the way they looked, I wanted her completely and totally naked.

I undressed as well and lay between her legs, fully naked, my erection pressed into her groin. I took my time, working her up with my fingers and my tongue, exploring every part of her body. I wanted her aching with need. Then I pulled her on top of me so that she lay with me between her thighs.

"Seduce
me
now," I said and closed my eyes. I wanted to feel her trying to arouse me.

She did, using her mouth and tongue and fingers, rubbing herself against me, shoving her breasts in my face, her hair trailing down my body as she placed a trail of kisses down my belly and began teasing me, breathing on me, slowly licking my cock all over before sucking the head into her mouth, her hands cupping my scrotum.

When I finally entered her, she was so ready, it took barely five slow thrusts with my fingers on her clit and she was groaning.

"Master, I'm going to…"

I didn't stop. I kept on thrusting, circling her clit with my thumb. Then, when I felt she was almost there, I lay on top of her, holding her face in my hands. "Say my name."

She tried, forcing her eyes open as her orgasm started, and I fucked her missionary style until she cried out “Drake” instead of “Master.”

I came as well in a few strokes, ramming into her with each spasm, white hot pleasure blinding me. Then I collapsed onto her and panted in her ear for a moment, kissing her neck.

She smiled beneath me.

"So?" I said, raising my eyebrows and grinning like a fool. "How was vanilla ice cream without any chocolate sauce and whipped cream tonight? Good enough?"

"More than good enough, in case you didn't notice, Master."

I bent down and kissed her throat. I slipped out of her and quickly sat up between her thighs and spread her legs wide so I could watch my come drip out of her.

She covered her face, trying to hide her smile.

"What are you smiling about, Ms. Bennet?" I said in mock disapproval. "The fact I can't deny at least one of my kinks?"

She opened her hands and watched me enjoy myself with my artwork.

We were, at that moment, completely out of scene and I didn’t care at all. The contract we had wasn’t binding. We were both free to throw it out at any time and be whatever it was we wanted to be to each other.

At that moment, despite the fact I was totally off the reservation with Kate, I was more fulfilled than I had been in a very long time.

CHAPTER SEVEN

There were only a few times Kate was at 8
^th
Avenue before me, despite how much I wished it was the opposite. The Monday before Christmas Eve, she was there waiting for me. She’d brought along a couple of strings of Christmas lights and some decorations.

"You're here," I said, smiling. "I was running a bit late in surgery."

"I'm here, breathlessly waiting for you," she said.

"Just the way I like you."

She smiled and helped me with my coat and packages. Then, she held her hands behind her back.

"What have you got there, Ms. Bennet?" I asked as I went to her, wanting to pull her into a hug. Before I could, she held up a sprig of mistletoe, grinning.

"Just this," she said. She tried to hold it high enough so that it was over my head but she was too petite. "I need stilts to get it over you."

"No stilts for you," I said and grabbed her, my arms slipping around her. "Too dangerous. Don't you know you're supposed to hold it over your
own
head? Not that I need any excuse to kiss you…"

I kissed her and soon, the mistletoe was forgotten. I grabbed her buttock with one hand and slipped the other under her skirt to feel her garters and naked pussy.

"
Mmm
," I said against her throat. "Slave, you are nice and wet."

She gasped when my fingers slipped inside of her. "You've got me trained like Pavlov's little submissive, Master."

I laughed at that and then pulled away. "Speaking of Russians, how about some Anisovaya?"

She nodded and went to the sideboard where the crystal glasses waited. We made a toast to each other.

While I nibbled her neck, she stroked her hands up my back. "I wish we could go somewhere to celebrate New Year's, Master."

I didn’t say anything for a moment, trying to decide whether to tell her my plans or keep them as a surprise.

"We'll meet here during your time off. I have no surgeries for a week. I was thinking we could go to a special fetish party for New Year's,” I said, knowing she would probably enjoy another visit to a dungeon. “This time, we'd have to wear masks so no one would recognize us. The party I have in mind is in Brooklyn. There’ll be fewer people there that either of us might know compared to the one in Manhattan."

She smiled broadly and rewarded me with a kiss. "What are you doing tomorrow, Master?"

"I'll probably just stay around here. Play some music. You could sneak over if you can make an excuse to be alone for a couple of hours…"

She smiled. "I'll make sure. Will they dance at these fetish parties?"

"You liked dancing with me the other night, did you, Ms. Bennet?" I said, remembering how we had danced at the party.

"Yes," she said. "I did, Master."

I picked her up and swung her around my hip then I twirled her around before pulling her tightly against my body. "I did learn in high school," I said. "Although I haven't had much time to practice. I know a few moves…"

I went to the sound system and sorted through some records until I found an old mix with the right music.

"’Rock Around The Clock,’" I said, smiling. "Bill Hailey and the Comets."

I led her around the room, showing her how to do the Jitterbug, tripping a bit over the loose Persian carpets on the smooth hardwoods. I picked her up, lifted her up high, and then tried to swing her over my other hip, repeating my earlier move, but my foot caught on the carpet and I tripped just as she was coming down in a less-than-graceful arc. I fell backwards and we tumbled to the floor.

I tried to save us both from the fall by absorbing the force, my arm going back to stop us, but Kate fell a little too close to the sideboard with it's sharp corner, which struck her on the side of her head, right above her eye. By the time we came to rest on the floor, I realized something was wrong. She was on her back, her hands covering her eye.

"Oh, God,
Kate
," I said, and bent down to her. "You're hurt…"

I turned her face towards me using one hand, while I cradled my other hand against my body, and saw immediately that she needed attention. I left her lying on the floor, her hands touching her cheek. I went to my bathroom cabinet and rummaged around, searching for my first aid kit and some gauze and bandages.

"How are you?" I asked when I ran back with supplies. I pressed the bandage against her brow, examining her. "Did you black out at any time?"

"I don't think so. But I saw stars."

"Are you in pain? How many fingers can you see?" I held up a hand with three fingers.

"Three," she said. "My head really hurt for a minute, but now it just stings."

"Look at me, in my eyes," I said, and when she complied, I examined the cut. It was deep enough that it needed more than just a few butterfly bandages. I didn’t have my emergency surgical kit at the apartment, so I’d have to take her to the hospital.

I exhaled. "
Goddammit
. I have to take you to the ER and get you stitched up. I don't have my bag here."

She smiled, despite everything. "You have one of those little black doctor bags?"

"Something like that," I said, but I wasn't smiling. "Damn, Kate. You're going to have to just come with me. We'll have to risk it. That cut is too deep for butterfly sutures."

"You're the neurosurgeon."

After I bandaged her up, we took the Mercedes to St. Luke's ER. It wasn't the nearest hospital, but Kate didn't want to go to Harlem because her friend worked there. I didn't want to go to NY Presbyterian because I had too many colleagues and associates who might recognize us. The ER nurses at St. Luke's had Kate in an examining room within a very few minutes of registering.