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Authors: Melinda Barron

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Bdsm, #Romantic Erotica

Undercover Submission (11 page)

BOOK: Undercover Submission
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Undercover Submission

87

“Now I eat a little more; then I claim that sweet ass of yours. My dick’s already throbbing at the idea.” He loved the way she shivered at his words.

“What about after that?”

“Next Saturday’s party will be fun.” The slump of her shoulders let him know she didn’t like the idea of spending another week apart from him. Good. Absence made the heart grow fonder. One more week and he might be able to claim her fully. Now he worried that she’d still freak out if he mentioned the collar he’d already bought for her, three of them as a matter of fact.

A training collar he’d use for their first few sessions as Master and collared sub. That way she’d know it was her duty to learn what he liked, the way he liked it. Of course, it was so similar to what she liked that it shouldn’t be too hard. The second leather collar was to wear around the house after he’d moved her in. The lock would keep it in place until he removed it for one of her other collars.

The D-ring was perfect for binding her in whatever way he chose, including a leash to take her for a walk outside in the backyard or to tie her to his bed every night. It would always help her to remember her purpose, to serve him. And the third one was a beautiful golden choker that she would wear in public, a sign for the both of them to remember the bond between them.

His cock grew at the idea of fucking her sweet ass, and he reached out and tweaked a nipple.

“Ouch, Master.”

“Sore?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“The water should be soothing against your beautifully striped backside.”

He loved the blush that spread across her face. “Yes, Master, it feels good.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Move me toward the stairs.”

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She walked along side him, gliding the raft toward the built-in stone stairs. They would be perfect for what he had in mind. When she reached the edge, she stopped.

“Go and get two towels.” He slid off the raft as she climbed from the water. He stood long enough to sheath his hard cock in a condom, then sat back down. The water barely hit him here, and he watched her as she walked to the towel rack, taking down two huge, soft-looking sheets. He sat down on the second step, keeping his head turned so he could watch her. Good Lord, she was beautiful, with her large beasts and cushiony hips. He loved the way they felt under his fingers as he’d held her close while he’d fucked her, sliding in and out of her wetness, feeling as if he’d gone to the highest point in the heavens and firmly planted himself there forever.

She stopped at the top of the stairs and jiggled the towels, as if questioning what to do next. “One on either side of my body, right behind my shoulders. Then climb back in.”

She was so beautifully submissive as she followed his orders, eager to please him, obviously excited that her submission would bring them both pleasure.

“There’s some lube on the table. Get your pretty little rosette ready for my cock.”

His dick throbbed as she followed his orders, keeping her back to him so he could watch her spread her cheeks and rub the lube on the spot he longed to fuck. He needed her.

Now.

When she was back in the water, she stood in front of him, head bowed, hands clasped behind her back. If he could get his hands on Jack right now, he’d have two things to say.

He’d trained her well, then he’d treated her like crap. And for that, he was a discredit to Doms everywhere. It was because of Doms like him that BDSM got a bad name. He hoped he never met the man. On the other hand, he wanted just one chance to break his nose.

“Climb onto my lap, slave.” She knelt on the steps, straddling him as he clasped her hips.

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“Now, one foot on either towel so that you’re lying back, your head in the water.” He could see the indecision, could see her coping with the idea she’d be so vulnerable in that position. She didn’t say no, though, or tell him it wouldn’t work.

Instead, she trusted him to hold onto her hips as she shifted. Putting her legs over his shoulders and lying back. Just as he suspected, her bottom was right in line with his dick, the perfect position to fuck her tight ass.

He knew she got the idea of what was happening right away. She nestled herself further down, arms floating out.

“Play with your nipples.” He positioned himself at her opening, loving the feel of the tight rosette, ready for the taking. He pushed gently, felt her slight resistance, then felt her body relax and push down. He slipped inside, tensing at the sound of pleasure that escaped her mouth.

“Master.” She said the word so low he barely heard her.

“My beautiful slave queen.” He pushed inside more, stopping when he felt her tighten against the intrusion. He loved the fact no one had been inside her, in any part of her, for years. She was his, his to take, his to command, his to love.

It took all his self-control to hold still when he was fully inside her. He stroked his finger over her clit, tugging gently on her slave ring. His gaze locked on her hands, doing the same thing with her nipples.

He waited as long as he could, and then he grasped her hips and pulled her back and forth, sliding in and out of her tight passage.

“Play with your nipples, play with your clit, don’t come until I say so, slave.” He knew his voice sounded wobbly, that he didn’t sound as in control as he should, but he didn’t care.

All that mattered was the woman whose body was wrapped around his dick.

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The water lapped at her as he moved her, sliding up over her torso and thighs. Her hands moved between her breasts and pussy, her breath coming in short, heavy gasps that edged his excitement higher and higher.

He closed his eyes and imagined collaring her, waking up to her every morning and going to sleep with her beside him every night. When he traveled she would travel with him, because he couldn’t stand to be without her.

The water lapped harder as he pulled her back and forth faster until his balls drew up and he came, pulsing inside her tight ass until he thought he would die.

“Master, may I?”

“Yes, my slave, you may.” Her body writhed and slid up and down on his still hard cock, causing a slight tremor to pass through his balls. He dug his fingers into her hips as she cried out again, and then he pulled her close, grasping her chin and claiming her lips in a brutal kiss.

He looked into her eyes and knew at that moment he could take her home with him and she wouldn’t go back to the wishy-washy, I-don’t-want-to-be-hurt Kennedy. She was his now. Still, it was too soon. Maybe next week. Just one more scene to be sure.

Not for him. He already knew he couldn’t live without her. He wanted her to be positive, wanted her to have absolutely no doubts when she accepted his collar, because once it went on, it wasn’t ever coming off.

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Chapter Nine
Work to-do list:

Pick up costumes

Go to elect onics store t

r

o buy two new jump drives

Remind Grace of the book signing the week after Halloween. Advance books still haven’t been signed.

Fax letter about edits to Grace’s editor

Personal to-do list:

Try to figure out a way to let Cedric know I have to have him, and not make myself look like a fool in the process

Kennedy piloted the car around the winding lane, wondering again about the costumes sitting in the backseat. Tonight, Toffer would be a priest and Grace a nun, an interesting combination for her friends. She didn’t even want to know what they would do with the outfits after everyone was gone.

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It was her own costume, though, that confused her. Obviously early British, around the sixth or seventh century. Cedric had said it would have something to do with a pair of famous lovers, and she had no idea who would wear the costume she had with her.

At the house, she didn’t find Grace in her office, so she left the costumes by the desk.

No one was in the living room when she walked through, and no one was at the pool. Back at her house she made herself a glass of iced tea, then spread the outfit out on the bed.

A long, flowing gown of deep purple color, trimmed with faux fur around the wide bell sleeves and deep scooped neckline. Guinevere, maybe, to Cedric’s Lancelot? Or Maid Marion to his Robin Hood? Goodness knows he was stealing her heart, one little bit at a time.

The danger of opening her heart to him was gone. She’d wanted to stay last week; he’d said one more week, just to be sure. And then he’d been gone all week, staying away so that he didn’t crowd her. Right now she could use a little crowding.

This week had been hell. It was obvious the old adage of absence makes the heart grow fonder was true in their case. She felt a need for him that wrapped itself around her and wouldn’t let go. Yet how did she come right out and say, “I’m ready, please don’t make me wait anymore”?

A knock at the door caught her attention. She opened it to find Grace standing there, a bag in her hand.

“May I come in?”

The worried tone in Grace’s voice reminded her that she’d been less than cordial to her friend this week. She’d been peeved about the fight they’d had; she needed to let go of that too. Grace was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. It was time to open herself up again. “Of course. It’s your house.”

“No, it’s yours, I keep telling you that. I did bring food and something for tonight.”

“I’m intrigued. What is it this time?”

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Grace walked into the kitchen, setting down the bag of food. “Food first. This will tide us over until the party, or tide me over. You’re not going tonight.”

Kennedy’s heart fell to her toes. “Oh. Um, sure, I understand.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Grace handed her a sheet of paper. “Nine o’clock, precisely.”

“What is this?” She opened the paper and realization dawned. Cedric’s address.

“He’ll open the gate at nine. Don’t be late.” Grace dove into the bag, digging out a chocolate croissant. “One of my weaknesses, as you know.”

Kennedy took the offering and laughed. “Mine, too. Can we talk while we eat?”

“Any time, you know that.”

Grace accepted a glass of tea, and the ladies went out to the small deck attached to the guesthouse. “First, let me tell you, I was mad for a while. I was sure Cedric had told you everything, and then you’d plotted and schemed together, conspiring against me.”

“He told us nothing, all he’d said was you’d rejected him, and it hurt him so much.”

Those words made Kennedy’s heart ache, for two different reasons. She was thrilled he’d kept her confidence, and angry at herself for hurting him. “I had a Dom for seven years, and one morning he woke up and said, ‘It’s over; we’re done.’”

“Just like that.”

“Yes. I’m sure there had to have been signs that I didn’t see. That idea left me thinking that I was just plain stupid where people were involved. I waited almost a year, then tried again. And I did to him what I did to Cedric, ended it on my terms, so I wouldn’t get hurt that time. Brad let it go. Obviously, he didn’t really care.”

“Cedric does care. For a while now he’s wanted a woman, a sub, to complete him. He knows that sub is you.”

Kennedy tore tiny pieces from her croissant, piling them on the plate. “How can he be sure, though?”

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“Is anything a given in life? When I met Toffer, he didn’t tell me who he was. We met over the Internet, and he kept it a secret. When I found out, I was so angry with him, and then I thought, maybe he just wants someone to like him for himself. We’d all like that. I didn’t know if it would work, but it has. I can tell you this: I wouldn’t give up one second of what we’ve had together. If it ended tomorrow, I’d have the most fantastic memories I’d carry with me forever. It’s better --”

“-- to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. Thanks, Mom.”

“Words to live by.”

Kennedy pressed the tattered crumbs of her croissant together and took a bite. “Can you at least tell me who I am tonight?”

“Nope. That’s for Cedric to do.” Grace clasped her hand around Kennedy’s. “Don’t be afraid of him. I know him very well, and he’s not the type of person, or Dom, to hurt someone intentionally. He’s very grounded, and he has a great need for you.”

“That scares me, because I feel the same way. You have no idea how hard it was to send him away. I thought it was for the best.”

“Well, let me be the first, no, the second, to tell you that you were wrong.”

“Just don’t rub it in.”

Grace sat back and took a sip of tea. “I won’t, I’m sure he will. And you’re gonna love every minute of it.”

* * * * *

Cedric’s two-story, Mediterranean-style house wasn’t exactly what she’d thought it would be. The stucco was a light coral color, and there wasn’t a garage in sight. There were turrets on each side, though, that gave it a castle-style appearance. Perfect for a man like Cedric. She was sure there was a pool, hot tub, and all the amenities of good living inside.

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She parked under the porte cochere, then headed for the front door. Her nerves were frayed, and she wondered exactly what he had planned, here in his own home. He certainly had a playroom, or even a dungeon he could use tonight if he wanted.

That idea excited her beyond belief. The few times she’d been with Cedric had been fantastic, and she couldn’t imagine what he’d be like with his own toys at hand. Should she tell him now she’d decided he was right? She wanted to beg to wear his collar, hear the lock click shut around her neck, knowing he had the only key.

She knocked on the door and it slid open. “Hello? Cedric?” She stepped inside. The house was dark, except for a small ray of light coming from the right. She shut the door and turned in that direction.

“Cedric?” Something akin to fear spread through her belly. Why wasn’t he answering her? She had the right house. The address matched, and the gate had opened precisely at nine.

BOOK: Undercover Submission
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ads

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