Dungeon Royale (Masters and Mercenaries) (17 page)

“I’m quite there already, Master.”

She had no idea what he could do to her. “Not yet, you aren’t. You’ve just had a little taste. He didn’t make you come.”

She shook her head. “No. Never.”

“I make you come. I’m the man who makes you come. Say it.”

“You make me come. Only you.”

He wasn’t sure he liked the raging jealousy that went through him every time he thought about that skinny accountant putting his hands on Penelope. He had the deepest instinct to obliterate the man. Had Peter told her he loved her? Had he offered her the life she deserved? It didn’t matter because he hadn’t been man enough to keep her. It had been easy to find that story. Peter saved his e-mails. He’d talked about how Penelope had gotten so involved in her mother’s care that she hadn’t found time for him. Stupid boy. He should have taken over. She’d been drowning and no one had offered to save her. No one had walked in and made life easy for her. Her siblings had visited but no one had taken control. He would have moved them both in here and hired a nurse twenty-four seven, costs be damned. He would have made sure Penelope never forgot that she was a woman and not just a caretaker. He would have had her in bed every night screaming out her pleasure, the tension dissolving away in pulse-pounding sex.

He knew what she needed, and he wasn’t going to make the same mistakes. He might not be able to offer her love, but he damn sure could take care of her.

Love was for idiots who didn’t know what the world was really like. What he was offering her was something far more real. A partnership.

“Only me.” He parted the petals of her sex. The need to take her rode him hard. His cock was right there. He was hard and she was wet. It would be so simple, but he had a point to prove.

He would control her through sex, not the other way around. He was the Dom. He was the senior partner.

And he’d promised her a good tongue lashing. He could spend the entire morning eating her pussy. Then he would feed her. He could start her training. He would make her sit on his lap and feed her himself, and then he would take her to the dungeon and start getting her used to impact play.

He would plug her gorgeous bum because he was going to fuck her there. Eventually. But this morning it was all about the pussy. It was all about getting deep inside Penelope. It was all about making the connection that would bind her to him.

Fuck. It was all about coming. It was all about spending himself hard inside her. His dick was pulsing, dying. All he needed to do was thrust up and he would be content.

He placed his head against her forehead. It was such a temptation to just fuck up into her.

But she was so inexperienced. He had to stop.

He rubbed their foreheads against one another. He was close to her. Closer than he’d ever been to a woman. Fuck. She did it for him. He didn’t really understand why, but she did it. She called to him. Everything about Penelope Cash pulled him in. He had to take care of her, had to protect her. Even from himself because the idea of spending his come inside her was so fucking tempting. He wanted to bind her to him so she wouldn’t ever leave.

Selfish. He was greedy and selfish and he wanted to be more to her.

“Love, what about birth control?” He didn’t want to have to stop to ask her about it later.

“I’m on birth control pills. I’ve been on them for years. I guess I was hopeful.”

Fuck. He didn’t have to wear a condom. “Love, you got my medical reports.”

She frowned. “Well, I read the ones you didn’t bury.” She huffed out a laugh. “Master, I know you’re clean. Will you please make love to me?”

So polite and he didn’t want polite from her. “Ask me to fuck you, Penelope.”

He didn’t want to lie to her. He didn’t make love. He didn’t even believe in it as a concept. It was something people needed to mask their primal needs for sex and conquest and someone to sleep next to at night.

Penelope’s eyes widened and a sexy gasp came from those lips of hers. “Will you fuck me?”

“With pleasure, love.” But first things came first. He kissed his way down her body, stopping to nip at her breasts and suck each one hard into his mouth. She was primed. She could handle more now. And god knew he wanted to give her more. “Spread your legs wider.”

She didn’t hesitate, simply moved her legs farther apart, giving him more room, more access to his pussy. His. She would be his in a way no woman had belonged to him before. She was practically a fucking virgin but here she was giving him everything she had.

He let his fingers play in her labia, drawing the petals apart and watching them fold back together. He fingered her clit briefly, not enough to let her fly. No. He wanted that to happen around his dick. He wanted to feel those muscles clamp down on his shaft, holding him hard and long while he spilled inside her.

One long lick of his tongue had Penelope squirming again, but she quickly settled down. Likely she was remembering the hard smack of his hand to her ass. He licked her again, tasting every inch of her. Spicy and sweet. Penelope. Over and over he licked and sucked and she let him. Only her pleas and gasps and the fresh arousal coating her flesh told him how desperate she was becoming.

“You’re doing so well.” He breathed the words against her pussy. “Just a bit more.”

“You’re trying to kill me.”

He chuckled. He had just enough sadist in him to deeply enjoy her discomfort. Sucking her clit into his mouth, he let his fingers fuck up into her pussy. Just one. She was so tight. The skinny accountant must have had a pencil dick.

Her body tightened and Damon released her clit.

“Damn it!” Her skin had flushed a deep pink. “Please. Please.”

Another finger. It would be rough, but he meant to get inside her. She was so slick, but he would still have to be careful. He let himself feel her heat for another second before pulling his fingers from her warmth.

“Not until I’m ready.” He got to his knees over her protests. “And you’re to call me Master when I’m fucking you, sub. That’s what you’re going to be, you understand?”

Her blonde curls shook as she nodded. “Yes. Your submissive. Yours, Master.”

Fuck, yes, she was his. But not quite yet. His cock pulsed, muscles tightening. He could feel his heart thundering in his chest. At least if he died doing this he would die happy. No. This was a good thunder. A promise of pleasure and peace, not what had happened to him when he was chasing Baz.

He stroked himself, blood pounding through his dick. He couldn’t help but stare at the place where his cock sat right on the precipice of her body. She was so soft and pretty and he was going to tear her up. Yes, that thought got him hot, too. She would be sore all day, likely the first couple of times until she’d adjusted to accommodate him.

His pussy. It belonged to him.

He pushed in, her heat threatening to strangle his cock.

Never before had he taken a woman bareback. So fucking good. He let everything else fall away. There was no mission, no betrayal to avenge, nothing at all except the woman he was sinking into.

“Take me.” Little thrusts back and forth. She was so small, but he was determined.

Penelope shifted her hips up, her face determined. “I want you, Master. All of you. I want to take every inch of you.”

He pushed in. Another inch. His cock sank in and he dragged it back out. Over and over. He took his time because this was important. Discipline would win this battle.

A long sigh of pure pleasure came from deep inside his body as he finally pushed home. He was balls deep inside her, his fingers sinking into the cushion of her ass. She was everything he’d thought she would be and more.

“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I should take just a bit less of you,” she said on a shaky breath.

Brat.
“Give it a minute. You’ll get used to me. I promise, love. I’ll make this good.”

Her hands came up, threading into his hair. “It’s all right. I don’t know that I’m so good at this part.”

It was one of those times that he likely should stop and spank her silly, but he couldn’t. This was too important. This suddenly didn’t feel like play. He was buried inside her and it was bloody important. “We’re going to be very good at this. We’re going to practice and I do promise you’ll come. I’m going to make sure of it.”

He ground his pelvis down, hitting her clit, watching her eyes darken.

Her hands moved restlessly from his hair to his shoulders, as if she wasn’t sure what to do with them. He knew.

“Grip my arse.” He wanted her hands on him, letting him know how much she wanted his cock.

Those soft hands of hers skimmed across his body until they settled on his cheeks.

“I’m better now.” She gave him a hard squeeze.

“No, you’re not, but you will be. Hold on tight. Be rough with me. I’ll fucking love it. You leave your mark on me. God knows I intend to leave mine on you.” With a long sigh of relief, he slid out and then thrust back in. This time she accommodated him, his thrust easy and sure.

Damon let himself go. She was writhing under him, her hands trying to hold him deep. It was a fight, but the best kind. She tried to keep his cock inside and he fought for the friction, every thrust and pull a drag on his cock. He pounded into her, twisting his hips so he caught her clit.

Her whole body tightened, her nails digging into his skin as she came on a long moan. His cock was caught, strangled by her orgasm, thrusting him into his own.

Nothing had ever felt as good as filling Penelope Cash with his come. Over and over he thrust in, giving her every ounce he had inside him.

Finally, a deep sense of peace thrumming through him, he collapsed on her. Resting his face against her neck. His world was filled with her. Her scent, the way her chest moved against his, warm arms around him. He could drown in her.

His mobile trilled.

The room stilled, time seeming to stop. He always answered his mobile because it was always work. He didn’t have a bunch of friends who called and interrupted him. He had work and they called when it was important.

“Don’t, Damon.” Her face was red, her lips tight, and now the tears showed up as though she couldn’t stand to have him walk away even to answer his mobile. Their intimacy was fragile.

He ignored it. Fuck whoever was calling him. They would call back. This was his time with her. This felt oddly sacred, and he didn’t want it interrupted. He wanted to hold her, cuddle with her and kiss her all over again.

Her mobile trilled.

“They’ll go away.” He willed them all to go the bloody hell away.

The intercom buzzed, and Ian Taggart’s voice came over the speaker. “Knight, get your ass down here. We’re wanted at headquarters. Apparently your friend has been causing trouble, and he’s after your girl. Let’s go.”

Baz was after her? Baz knew about Penelope, knew the way to get to him was through her. A sudden vision of Penelope cold and dead struck his brain like a hammer. He was supposed to protect her. How could he protect her when he couldn’t stop fucking her long enough to answer his bloody phone?

He was supposed to be in control, but she stripped it away from him. He had to get it back, and he wouldn’t do it by cuddling with her. He was trapped between giving her what he knew she needed and keeping distant enough to be effective.

He rolled off the bed and started for the shower. He needed to think.

“Damon?”

“Get dressed. We have work to do.” He didn’t look back. He really couldn’t stand to see her cry.

Chapter Eight

Penny sat next to Damon, their chairs almost touching, but she might as well have been in another country. Nigel’s office was silent, lit only with the fluorescents above. There was no such thing as opening a window at headquarters. The windows were treated so no one could see in, every pane bulletproof.

Since the moment he’d gotten the word that Baz was still running about London causing trouble, Damon had shut down. There had been no more caresses or hugs. No kisses. No dirty talk. When he’d come out of the shower, he’d been distant. Not cold exactly. He’d given her an encouraging smile, but he’d held himself apart.

She could still feel his cock deep inside her, but he was miles away.

“Are you all right?”

He’d asked her more than once, but she just gave him a tight smile. He seemed to have shifted to treating her with an awkward politeness, like he hadn’t made love to her an hour before. “I am, Damon. Where is Nigel? Why didn’t you bring the rest of the team in?”

The Taggarts were sitting outside in the waiting room. They’d ridden over in Damon’s Benz. Damon and Taggart had talked quietly, but she’d just looked out the window.

For one brief moment, she’d felt so connected to him, so close. She’d never felt as open and free as she had when Damon had taken over.

She really hated Basil Champion.

“Nigel wants to talk to us first,” Damon explained.

The door opened, and Nigel walked through looking like he hadn’t slept well the night before. The lines around his eyes seemed to have deepened over the course of the weekend.

He strode straight to his desk. “Harris was discovered with two bullets in his chest early this morning. Champion got through hospital security. A nurse found the body.”