Diablo Blanco Club: Unfair Advantage (13 page)

“Pirate.” She didn’t hesitate.

“And when should you use it?”

Her eyes seemed to search his for a clue as to why he was asking these questions, before she answered, “I should use it if I become frightened or if what is happening goes beyond what I’m comfortable with.”

“Very good.” Bryce held up an item for her to see. “Do you know what these are?”

Mattie nodded. “They’re nipple clamps.”

“Sit up and hold your hands above your head.” He waited until her bottom came off her heels and her hands rose above her head to move the belt aside. Leaning forward, he cupped one round globe in his hand and lowered his lips to the soft red tip. Taking his time, Bryce suckled and laved the tip to a stiff peak, her breast swollen with arousal and her breath hitching with each pass of his tongue over the crinkled bud. While it was still damp from his lips, he fastened the thumb ring over the turgid bead and then lowered his mouth to the other crest. Treating it to the same attentions, he drew back when the tip was swollen and hard and then slipped the second thumb ring over it. Dangling between the two clips was a thin platinum chain without adornment, merely connected to the base of each clip.

Smoothing his hand down her belly, Bryce grinned and marveled at the amount of moisture she’d produced between her thighs. “Does it feel good, babe?” he queried.

Eyes half closed, Mattie smiled. “Yes,” she murmured, her hips undulating against his hand.

“Nuh-uhn,” he warned, pulling his hand back to land a firm swat against her nether lips.

A shudder trembled through her body. Fists clenched, eyes squeezed shut, Mattie moaned, her body arched toward him, and her breathing stopped for the barest moment before resuming. “Again.”

God, she looked beautiful, the heat of excitement flushing her body, her breasts adorned and her pussy wet, dampening his hand and her thighs as she sought another tempered blow. But he had other plans. “No.”

From the floor, he retrieved the next item and held it up for her perusal. “Are you familiar with this?”

The trembling of her body increased. For a moment he wondered if the safe word would slip from her lips, but when she lifted her eyes to his, Bryce’s erection surged to life within his confining trousers. The pupils had expanded, leaving thin rings of chocolate around them.

“Yes.”

He waited as she swallowed and seemed to draw a deep breath, as if trying to calm herself.

“It’s a flogger.”

Oh Lord, the thoughts ran through her head, making her sway as she knelt before him. The sight of his dark, tanned chest, his cool green eyes assessing her every response, had her teetering on the verge of another orgasm. The sting of the clamps on her nipples had the muscles clenching in her womb. Her bound hands only increased the stimulation.

Now this. She was sure to earn another punishment if he applied the flogger to her ass. In her research about BDSM she’d read about their use and construction. Some could be inexpensively made with leather or suede and a wooden dowel, while others could sell online for hundreds, if not close to a thousand dollars. The one Bryce teased her with was one of the less-decorative designs. A simple black leather handle with a multitude of tails dangling below. Some braided, terminating in thick little knots, while others were flat, half-inch-wide strips of hide.

Taking his time, he rose from the footstool in front of her.

“Lower your hands.” His order was cool as he gripped the dangling end of his belt.

Her teeth nipped at her bottom lip as she followed his directive. The jostling of her breasts by the movement sent another zing of sensation through her body.

“Lay across the stool, Lawrence. Breasts over the edge.”

The wide, cushioned top was soft, cradling her body from ribs to midthigh. As she watched, Bryce deftly fastened the belt around the thick metal leg of the ottoman, allowing her to use her hands against the carpeted floor to brace her upper body, if necessary.

“Since you only disobeyed once, baby, I think we’ll keep this part of your punishment to ten.”

She couldn’t look over her shoulder to read his expression. Her hair, left loose, had fallen forward to blanket her head in soft brown curls. When the first blow landed, she gasped and squirmed against her cushion. No harder than the strike of his hand against her ass, the flogger’s different tails stung, but the same stirring of arousal tightened in her core.

“Call off each one, Lawrence.”

Following his direction, she called out, “One.”

The next one struck lower, just below the curve of her ass and with more force. “Two.” She called off the next three in quick succession as the flogger landed heavily against her right cheek, her left cheek, and then both. The feelings coursing through her were nothing like the fear her father’s beatings had instilled. Unlike her father, Bryce controlled his strikes, never allowing more than a small measure of his strength to power his blows. Body shaking, breasts heaving with each sobbing breath, Mattie waited for the next one, anticipating the thud and the resultant pain-pleasure melding with the burn in her nipples.

When it still hadn’t come, she let the words loose that she battled against. “Please, more, Bryce. Again.”

“Are you sure?” His hand stroked over the heated curve of her ass, pushing between her thighs to spread the swollen lips of her pussy.

She knew her juices had spilled free, soaking her curls and staining the expensive leather beneath, but she didn’t care. Only the pleasure enfolding her made sense, and the means of maintaining that sensual fire dangled from his left hand. So close. “God, please, Bryce. Five more. Just…” Her back arched, ass pushing upward as if seeking the caress of the flogger.

Instead, the slow stroke of Bryce’s tongue moved from the top to the bottom of her slit, lapping up her cream, teeth scraping over her swollen clit, and then nipping at her labia. The pulse of her orgasm started in the flutter of her pussy lips. Wrestling to contain it, Mattie clawed at the carpet beneath her fingers.

“No coming without permission, Lawrence,” was growled against her pussy just before Bryce shifted away and the sixth slap of the flogger was laid across her bottom.

“Oh God, thank you, yes! Six,” she cried out, barely aware of her words as the climax receded beneath the wave of pain-pleasure. The remaining four were given in quick succession, her voice going hoarse as she fought the orgasm building inside.

Chapter Eight

Bryce watched her move around her office the next morning as he leaned in the doorway. The burgundy blouse tucked into a narrow gray skirt accentuated the full curves that had stirred his interest when she first barged into his life eight years earlier. The swish of her braid had him grinning as he recalled the muttered curses from the night before when she’d attempted to regain some control of her wild curls.

“Lawrence,” he called out, keeping his expression neutral even as his cock hardened at the sight of her body freezing in place. “My office.”

He didn’t check to make sure she followed. Leaving the door open, he waited until Mattie had crossed the threshold before using the intercom. “Dana, hold all calls for the next thirty minutes, please.”

“Yes, sir.” The crisp response of the receptionist preceded the
click
of the door lock sliding into place.

Collecting the nipple clamps from his desk drawer, he circled the desk and leaned against the front of it. “Blouse, bra, skirt, and panties, Lawrence.”

In the same order he’d given, Mattie slid the buttons free on her blouse, shrugged it from her shoulders, and carefully folded it before handing it to him to place on the desk. The pale pink lace bra, gray skirt, and matching pink lace thong were quickly handed over, leaving her clad in sheer stockings and high-heeled gray pumps.

Spreading his legs, Bryce eased her to stand between them, admiring the steady way she awaited his next command, her arms still at her sides. The urge to smile was pushed down as he watched her breasts flush, the nipples growing hard beneath his gaze. Lifting his eyes to the tiny triangle of skin at the base of her throat, he studied the increase in its flutter as her heartbeat accelerated and her breathing grew rapid.

Raising the fingers of his left hand to her breast, he circled the areola, thumbing the hardening peak before pinching it between his forefinger and thumb. “Sore?”

“Ju—” She cleared her throat. “Just tender.”

“Hmm.” Taking his time, Bryce played with the tender nipple, tugging on it, giving it a little twist, gauging her response to each action. “Have you been thinking about your decision?” He kept his tone conversational, casual, the complete opposite of the intimate way in which he fondled first one breast before taking the crest in his mouth and turning his fingers loose on the other tip.

“
Ummm
…yes. I still…
ahhh
, I still need time.”

Her breath hissed through her teeth as he attached the rings to her taut nipples. Her hands clenched into fists, but she held still. “Understandable, and there are three days left for you to think.” Bryce rose from the desk and settled his hands at her waist. “But while you think, I’ve made an appointment for you at the spa. Sarah couldn’t fit you in until Friday, but she is the best aesthetician as well as being the owner.”

“The spa?”

The fingers of his left hand tugged at the dark curls between her thighs, drawing a heady moan from her lips. “I told you last night we needed to have this pussy trimmed.”

“I can—”

“Uh-uh, baby,” he whispered in her ear, his teeth nipping the lobe as he drew more moisture from her. “Waxed, not shaved. I want all but a little patch to be smooth as silk. No stubble.”

Something in her eyes had Bryce waiting. She seemed reluctant to ask for several long seconds, before she finally blurted, “And my legs?”

He found it difficult to stifle his laughter, but the grin on his face must have revealed his amusement. The fire in her eyes and the way she crossed her arms beneath her breasts had Bryce fighting laughter again. “Of course, Lawrence. What else is a day at the spa for if it’s not to pamper you?”

“Pamper, my ass.” She snorted under her breath. “Try torture.”

“Torture?”

She gave him a look so full of sarcasm, Bryce again found himself stifling his guffaws into sedate, tactful chuckles. “Torture, how?” he queried a second time.

“You lay on a cold, leather-padded table. Bare-assed naked, except for some stupid paper gown.” Leaning against him, Mattie continued, “Just to have some strange woman slather your legs and pubis with hot wax and then rip it all off five minutes later.”

Bryce winced. “Yup”—he nodded—“I have to admit that does sound a bit like torture.”

“So, why don’t you just—” Mattie smiled at him.

“No. Sarah is the best; she’ll take good care of you.”

“Yeah, right,” Mattie groused.

“Yes. Now let me take a look at your ass.”

Taken aback, Mattie gazed at him, not sure what to expect. “Excuse me?”

“Lean forward, hands on the desk,” he directed, “and let me get a good look at your ass.”

Not sure how serious he was, Mattie waited, sobering. “I don’t…”

He shook his head at her. “Ah, be careful,” he warned. “A refusal could be construed as breaking a rule. There are no employees around, and one of my responsibilities as your master is to inspect your body to make sure no damage was done last night.”

She’d read about inspections but had assumed they were primarily a determination of whether the sub or slave’s appearance and body met with the approval of a Dominant or master. Mattie had never considered it to be a responsibility of either party, but considering the paddling she’d taken the night before she could understand Bryce’s concern. Hell, she’d had the same concerns herself this morning. Biting her lip, she asked, “What do you consider bruises?”

All teasing left Bryce’s face. “Damn it, Lawrence. Bend over.” He didn’t even wait for her to comply. Moving to her side, he pressed against her upper back with one hand, while the other smoothed over her bottom.

Bracing her forearms on the polished mahogany, Mattie interlaced her fingers and waited. She winced at the colorful profanities Bryce spit out as he inspected the few bruises dotting her bottom and the skin just beneath it. When he pressed against the only dark one, despite her resolve not to, she flinched. Her eyebrows rose, and she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder at the inventive combination of curses that spilled out.

“You know”—she grinned back at him—“it’s okay.”

“Yes, bruises heal,” he agreed. “But I’ll have to remember…”

“Remember what?” She tried to rise, but his hand against her back halted her.

“To remind Richard.”

“Why?”

“When he punishes you, we’ll have to be careful not to bruise you too badly.”

The mention of the company’s vice president and director of mergers and acquisitions had her heart hammering in her chest as she recalled Bryce’s comments about enjoying the feel of a woman sandwiched between him and another man. Her own mind had conjured images for years when she’d first heard the rumors, but fantasy was nothing like reality. She’d discovered that last night when he’d used the flogger on her. Yes, she’d enjoyed it, but the feelings it stirred also frightened her. It was possible the same could happen should she ever live out her fantasy of being the filling in a sandwich between Bryce and Richard. “Why would Richard punish me? He isn’t part of our arrangement.”

“He will be if you decide to become my sub, Lawrence,” Bryce informed her coolly, his green eyes boring into hers.

“I…” Mattie wasn’t sure what she was going to say, but the words froze at the chill look from Bryce.

“Don’t play shy, Lawrence. You knew exactly what I meant when I discussed the manner in which I treat my submissives. That’s what this entire week of experimentation is about.” His hands smoothed over her ass, kneading the firm globes, before one dipped lower to delve between her labia, coating his fingers in the warm syrup of her arousal. “Preparing you for all the things I could expect of you.”