Bound in Blue (28 page)

Mine. All mine.

He made her wait like that, exposed to his
gaze, for a full minute before he spoke. “Who are you?” he asked
for the second time.

“I’m your slave, Master,” she answered in a
trembling voice.

He knelt beside her to trace the neat line of
her spine, the curve of her hips, and then he slid a finger into
her pussy. Ah, so wet. He drew the moisture over her clit and
caressed it. She moaned, but she didn’t move. She was his, truly
his.

“You don’t take pleasure unless I give it to
you, yes?”

“Yes, Master,” she sighed.

“Do you want me to stroke your clit? Do you
want me to make you come?”

She twitched then, the slightest bit. “If it
pleases you. I want what you want.”

Jason let out a soft laugh. “I wish I had a
cane. That’s what I want, to mark you. You don’t have any marks at
all. You were away from me too long.”

“Yes, Master.”

He stood and went to his jeans, and pulled
his belt from the loops.

* * * * *

Sara pressed her cheek to the floor. How
she’d missed this...the fear and intensity, the pleasure and pain
rolled into one. Jason was the only man who’d ever excited her like
this, to the point where she would do anything, endure anything at
his hand. As he pulled his belt from his jeans, she got wetter and
arched her ass higher.
Hurt me. Please.

She sensed more than heard him draw his arm
back, and then there was pain.
Oww...
He’d started with a
medium-strength stroke just under her ass cheeks. She made a sound
that was half agony, half jubilation. More pain followed,
whap,
whap, whap,
fire licking against each cheek and then across her
whole ass. Oh God, it
hurt
. The strokes rose in intensity
because he meant to mark her. He placed them on top of each other
to bring the strongest sting. All she could think was,
more,
please more.

He stopped, rubbing the edge of the belt
against her swollen clit. Now, she couldn’t help it. She arched
back against it. It was greedy and undisciplined but she ached for
his cock and her self-control was running low.

“Do you still want whatever I want?” His low
voice rumbled with an edge of menace. “Because now I want to hurt
your pussy. I want to whip you right on your thrusting little
clit.”

“I want what you want, Master. Even if it
hurts.”

He rearranged himself so he was standing over
her, facing away from her shoulders. He leaned down and slapped her
pussy a few times, and already, that hurt enough, but he wasn’t
finished. She whimpered as he slid his belt between her legs. Why
did he make her wait?

She knew why. So she’d have plenty of time to
get scared. By the time the leather snapped down against her slit,
she was beside herself, and the pain... The stroke felt sharp and
awful, especially against flesh that was buzzing with need. “Oh,”
she cried. “Please, Master.”

“Please, again?”

She made fists beside her head. “Yes,
please.”

He whipped her clit again, and again, and she
couldn’t help but jerk. He trapped her hips between his legs to
keep her still and then he whipped her continuously, sometimes on
her clit, sometimes on her pussy lips, sometimes on her inner
thighs. She stopped trying to be brave and let the cries and groans
come. In his bedroom, he would have told her to hush, or gagged her
to silence, but here he let her make her sounds. Soon, they weren’t
groans, but pleas for satisfaction.
Please fuck me, please fuck
me.

“Do you want to come, little one?”

“Yes, please,” she begged.

“I want you to come while Master’s hurting
you with his belt.”

Oh, God
... She could do it, but it was
so humiliating, to make herself come jerking off against the edge
of his belt.
You’re his slave. You do what he likes.
She
moved her hips as he slid the belt across her clit, alternately
cracking her and tapping her, and then caressing her in a slow
glide.

“Yes, baby,” he sighed. “You come however I
want, whenever I want. You look so beautiful, so hurt and turned on
at the same time.”

“Oww!” She cried out at the blow, as her clit
exploded with pain. But then he stroked her and she could feel her
orgasm blooming, a sharp promise of release. “Please,
please...”

Every time she said
please
, her pussy
paid the price. Even with his legs bracing her, her hips were going
wild, seeking a climax just out of reach.
His belt’s going to be
a mess
, she thought. Good thing he had plenty of them. He could
do this to her every day for a month if he wanted to, and never run
out.

He could do this to her forever, if he
pleased.

That was the thought that tipped her over the
edge. Jason, her Master, her tyrant, her wonderful lover, he could
control her forever. He could give her hurt, or orgasms, or even
both at the same time. She gasped, her fists pounding the floor as
her walls contracted. She wished he was inside, and then he
was
inside, driving into her, snapping his hips against her
aching ass. Her clit felt hot and achy too, but it was the good
kind of ache. His cock felt so huge inside her that her orgasm
continued on. It was too much, almost too much.

“I want you to come again,” he ordered. “Like
you just did, only harder.”

“I can’t.” Her body collapsed. She absolutely
couldn’t do
anything
. He jerked her hips up and smacked her
on the ass.

“You can and you will, because I want it.
Answer me. ‘
Yes, Master.’
”

“Ow...yes, Master,” she cried as he spanked
her again. She was so sensitive, so tense in the aftermath of her
orgasm but he gave her no quarter. He took her pussy like he owned
it, driving in, filling her walls so she felt every inch of his
advance.
He does own it, Sara. He owns you.

He gentled, slowed his driving rhythm and
pressed his hands to the back of her shoulders. Her clit ached and
pulsed and her ass cheeks burned where he held them. “I love you,”
she whispered into the floor. “I love you, I love you.”

“What?” He pulled her head back by the
hair.

“I love you,” she said through bared teeth.
She started to cry, not from pain or his deep, pounding strokes,
but because she loved him so much. She’d missed him so much.

He pulled out of her and lifted her from the
floor. Next thing she knew, she’d been tossed across the bed. She
held up her hands and he grabbed them as he climbed on top of her.
He pressed his cock inside her, holding her down so she couldn’t
move. “You’re mine,” he said against her ear, which meant so much
more than “I love you.” She fought against him, testing him, but he
didn’t let her go. His muscles slid over her skin, his power
subduing her along with his cock buried inside her.

“I’m going to come again,” she gasped.
Because he was inside her, one with her, and it felt like heaven.
She believed with all her heart that he cared for her and that she
could trust him, even if he made mistakes. She’d made mistakes too.
In the end, what mattered was that they loved each other and fit
together in some perfect, eternal way.

He let go of her hands and she wrapped them
around his shoulders, and snapped her hips against his. He held her
so tight she could feel his heart pounding against hers, and then
the pounding transformed into the waves of her climax. The waves
grew stronger, not weaker, until she felt the pleasure
everywhere—her body, her mind, her soul. Jason arched deep inside
her, grasping at her as he reached his own release.

Sara went still beneath him, boneless in the
aftermath. Jason shuddered through his orgasm, then he unraveled
too, relaxing against her. He smelled warm and male, and so
familiar. She buried her face in his hair and wiped away the last
of her tears.
No more crying
, she thought.
I have nothing
to cry for.
She was back with her Master where she was meant to
be. She felt happy and protected. Safe.

And a little bit smothered.

“Master,” she gasped. “I can’t breathe.”

He rolled sideways and brought her with him.
She looked over into his deep blue eyes and thought,
they’re so
beautiful. If his blue eyes are beautiful, mine can be too.

He traced a finger down her cheek. “Okay now?
You can breathe again?”

Yes, she could breathe again now that he was
here. She put her hand over his and traced his fingers. Her walls
clenched, involuntary aftershocks from the power of her orgasm,
caressing his cock that was still buried deep inside.

“Mercy,” he said, laughing. “I just got you
back. Don’t kill me.”

“I would never,” she whispered.

He leaned to kiss her forehead and ended up
kissing all over her face, all over the residual tracks of her
tears. “Who are you? I want to ask it a million times.”

“I’d answer a million times. I’m your slave.
I love you so much.”

“I love you more than that,” he said, shaking
his head. “I love you too much to find any peace of mind, but
that’s okay. You’re worth it.” He screwed his face into a
threatening mask. “But if you ever leave me again...so help
me.”

She squirmed as he gave her another set of
spanks. Then he levered himself up to check out her backside.
“That’s more like it. Your ass needs color. Always.”

“Yes, Master.”

He pulled away from her, fixed her with a
look and said, “Stay.”

She watched from the bed as he went over to
his luggage and pulled out a box she recognized. Her promise ring
was inside, still tied with her little blue bow. He came back to
the bed and dangled it in front of her eyes. “I’ll give this back
to you on one condition.”

She stared at the blue stone as it caught the
light. “What condition? Anything, Master.”

“No, listen first. You can have this back if
you agree to marry me. Not right now. Not even this year if you
don’t feel ready. But eventually I want you to marry me because I
want you forever, Sara. I want this to be our engagement ring.” He
captured it in his fingers, hid it from her in his fist. “But only
if you want. Don’t say yes just to please your Master.”

She didn’t like that the ring had
disappeared. She wanted it on her finger right away, immediately.
“Yes. Please. I want to be yours forever.”

“You’re sure?”

She took his hand, trying to peel his fingers
open. “Yes, I want it.”

“Marriage is forever. I won’t let you
go.”

“No, I don’t want you to. Mmph.” She pried at
his fist. “Please let me wear it.”

He finally relented and opened his hand,
uncurled his long, strong fingers and allowed her to have it. She
shoved it onto her finger, blue ribbon and all. He took her hand
and untied the bow, slipping it from beneath the band.

“Why did you tie this around the ring?”

“So it wouldn’t get lost. So you would notice
it there.”

“I didn’t find it. Your father did.”

She closed her fingers and avoided his
searching gaze. He tilted her head up so she had to look at
him.

“He was there that night, Sara. The night I
went looking for you, the night after you left. He cares about you,
baby, he just doesn’t know how to show it. Not yet.”

She crept into his arms when he opened them,
let him cradle her close. She hadn’t thought much about her father,
because it hurt too much and because it confused her. “I don’t care
if he cares about me,” she said. But that wasn’t really true. “I
don’t know. I don’t know how I feel.” She buried her head in his
shoulder. “I’m afraid to see him again.”

“You don’t have to be afraid. He wants the
best for you.” He massaged her shoulders, running his fingers over
her back. “Tell me about your act.”

“You’ll see tomorrow. It’s a surprise.”

“What does your costume look like?”

“Tomorrow,” she said, giggling when he
growled and shook her.

“You’re not going to tell me anything?”

Her eyes were drifting closed. He was so
warm, and his arms felt so protective. After weeks of honing her
inner strength, she was relieved to surrender to him again. “I can
tell you that I hope you’ll like it. And that I love you, and that
I’m going to be your wife someday.”

He tapped a finger against her cheek. “I knew
all that already.”

“And your slave. Your slave-wife,” she said
with a yawn.

“I like the sound of that.” He reached down
and rearranged the covers, pulling them up so she was even warmer
and cozier. “You have a big day tomorrow, little one.”

“I hope you like the act. I hope you’re proud
of me.”

“I’m already proud of you.”

Those were the last wonderful words she
remembered before she drifted into Jason-scented dreams.

Jason lingered over Sara in the morning,
kissing her, caressing her, stroking all the beautiful parts of
her. He’d only just gotten her back, so he wasn’t happy about
letting her go.

But they had forever to spend together, and
his talented trapezist needed to go to the theater and get ready
for her act. Sara was excited but nervous. “You’ll be great,” he
assured her, kissing her forehead. “And I’ll still love you, even
if you totally fuck up. Which you won’t.”

At the Marseille rehearsal facility, Theo and
Kelsey took her into their custody. “We’ll see you after the show,”
Theo said. “Oh, and Lemaitre is looking for you. Not in a good
way,” he added under his breath.

Shit. Jason wandered around the rehearsal
space and then out into the main theater. He scanned the darkened
seats and located the glow of a laptop in the far right corner.

“
Viens
,” came the voice, and the
imperious beckoning gesture.

Jason climbed the stairs to the top and
sidled down the row. Long legs and auditorium seats didn’t go
together. He thunked his knee as he folded his tall frame into the
seat a couple down from his boss.