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Devin was surrounded by a faint cloud of perfume, dark and spicy, then a woman’s soft fingers slipped between her thighs and slid right into her wet heat. Her breath came out in a soft
Oh.
She didn’t dare move, but her body shook all over. With shock, with desire.
The woman’s voice again. “Perfect.”
Then those same soft fingers lifting her chin. She stared into a pair of sharp blue eyes set into a beautiful, feminine face with high cheekbones, full scarlet lips. The face of a woman of perhaps a well-held fifty. The woman said, “You are a little beauty, aren't you? I approve. He'd be wise to collar you quickly.” She smiled, released Devin's chin.
Collar me. Yes!
Suddenly she couldn't stand the idea of anyone else touching her. And as though he could read her thoughts, Shaye laid a hand on the back of her neck once more. She knew it was him, knew his sure, warm touch. Her muscles let loose again and she relaxed into his hand.
“Up now, Devin, and we'll watch a scene together.” She rose to her feet, dizzy, and Shaye steadied her. Was this really happening?
He led her across the floor. She kept her hands clasped behind
her back, her head down, but still she caught glimpses of high,
arched doorways, a fleur-de-lis pattern on the cream-and-gold wallpaper, enormous, ornate gilded mirrors, gorgeous antique furniture everywhere.
Through a wide hallway and into another marble-floored room. Shaye sat down on a low, velvet-covered love seat and she knew enough to settle to her knees at his feet. He leaned over her, his large hand snaking around her neck. “Watch now, Devin.” His hand drifted down, caressed her breast, and her nipple came up rock hard. A small, wicked laugh arid a sharp pinch from him before he withdrew his hand and settled back into his chair. She wanted to cry, suddenly, so keen was her need for his touch. She pulled in a deep breath, commanded herself to calm. The lights dimmed and then went brighter at one end of the room, which was set up as a kind of stage. Against a backdrop of an enormous marble fireplace, the mantle intricately carved, was a high, padded bench. Strapped to it on her back was a young woman with long waves of pale blonde hair. She had a tiny, delicate waist, large, full breasts. Devin ached just looking at her, shivered at the sight of the black leather gag across her mouth, stretching the woman's lips. She didn't know if the sight frightened her or made her want to be up there, to be that girl, displayed and subjugated before the crowd.
God.
Another naked woman stood to one side, a beautiful girl with dark, tawny skin and closecut curling hair. She had the large, dark, luminous eyes of a doe. The beautiful and imposing Alana stood over the blonde on the table. She seemed to be entirely focused on her, to have blocked out the crowd, as she stroked the girl's body with her hands. Devin could see the blonde's nipples swell, felt her own sex swell in response. Then Alana picked up a small bristle brush from a tray offered by the darker girl and began to run it over the blonde's skin, which quickly turned pink. Devin could imagine what the brush must feel like, how it would bring the blood to the surface of the skin. She watched as Alana drew the brush harder over the girl's skin:
her breasts, stomach, thighs, until she was gasping and writhing on the table. Alana stopped.
The dark girl came to the table once more, a tall pillar candle in her hands, the flame flickering gently. Alana took the candle, nodded, and the girl retreated. She played with the candle for several minutes, swirling the melted wax as it pooled in the center. She bent over the blonde, whispered something to her, and Devin saw her nod. Alana held the candle over her prone body. Devin's heart clutched, then tumbled in her chest as Alana spilled a small pool of wax onto the girl's stomach. She arched, moaned. There was a small flutter of sound from the audience. Shaye's hand flexed on her shoulder. “Watch now. Devin. This is something I'll do to you some day.”
A prickle of delighted fear at that lovely threat.
Yes, anything for you.
She meant it, knew it down deep. How was it possible, with a man she barely knew? But she trusted him utterly, more than any man she'd ever known.
She watched as Alana paused a moment, holding the candle aloft, then let a stream of melted wax fall onto the blonde's breasts. This time the girl yelped and came up off the table hard. Devin scooted closer to Shaye's leg, her blood pounding in her veins. Excitement coursed through her. She wanted that pain, wanted to feel what this woman was feeling. And the need itself frightened her. Seeming to sense her panic, Shaye pulled Devin up and into his lap. She looked into his eyes and saw the desire there, the excitement that matched her own. And beneath her naked bottom she felt the hard ridge of his arousal pressing into her flesh. God, to have him inside her now, even here, in front of all these people .. .
“Does this excite you, Devin?” he asked her quietly.
She nodded her head, her mouth too dry to answer.
“Watch. There's more to come.”
She stayed in his lap, her body buzzing with lust at the solid feel of him, at his dizzying scent, at the scene going on before them like some sort of wickedly sensual theater. She swore she could smell the sweet, pungent scent of Shaye's excitement. She needed him to touch her, to play her, to give her pain. She needed to please him, to show him how much she wanted this one thing. A soft little moan escaped her. “I feel your need,” he told her. “Do you feel mine?”
He shifted his hips, pressed his hard cock closer into her flesh. Steel hard, and she swore she could feel him throbbing even through the fabric of his slacks. She closed her eyes and let that strong pulse reverberate through her system.
Please
...
“We'll go now.”
Go? She wanted to cry. lb ask him why they were leaving so soon. She'd been sure he would play with her here, in this amazing place, in this sanctuary of the sensually deviant. Yes, some part of her still viewed it that way, but it only made what they did more alluring. He lifted her from his lap, stood beside her and whispered into her hair, “I have to get you out of here, Devin, before I lose all semblance of control. I need to take you someplace where I can touch you, where I can have you all to myself.” The disappointment blooming in her chest shifted, heated, until her sex was pulsing, her breasts aching. Suddenly she couldn't wait to leave, as fascinating as this place was to her.
She kept her head down, her eyes averted, her hands clasped demurely behind her back. Funny to think of any of this as “demure.” Naked and under Shaye's command as she was, she was as ready to rut as a cat in heat.
They reached the foyer and the two slave girls quickly dressed her
again, but she hardly noticed. All she could think about were his
words:
touch you..
.
have you all to myself.
Yes, that's exactly what she craved. Shaye took her outside, one strong arm around her waist as they waited for the valet to bring his car around.
During the silent drive he kept a hand on her thigh when he wasn't busy shifting. She couldn't stop the faint trembling in her body. She was too excited. Beyond excited, really. She didn't know how to describe it. Even though Shaye hadn't played her at Sanctuary, even though she'd been little more than an observer, she felt as she did after he spanked her, made her come. Light-headed, exhilarated. They arrived at her apartment and he slid the little BMW into a rare parking space, made her sit in the car while he went around the other side to help her out. He didn't take his hands off her as they rode the old elevator up. She thought he might kiss her in there. Wanted him to. But he just looked at her with that intense gaze of his, his eyes holding a golden glow, like dark honey lit from within. Once in her apartment, she stood just inside the entrance while Shaye took off his trench coat and dropped it over the back of a chair. He came to her, and just as he had that first night, he backed her up against the door. But this time he simply stood and pressed the solid planes of his body against hers. Gripping her shoulders almost painfully, he looked hard into her eyes. His gaze was dark, searching. His eyes darted down to her mouth. He licked his lower lip and she thought he'd kiss her, but his gaze moved back to hers and his hands slid gently up to her face. He stroked her cheeks, her lips, her throat. The intensity of his gaze confused her. And his tender touch made her heart throb in her chest, made her yearn even more for him to kiss her. Leaning in a fraction of an inch, his breath was warm and sweet on her face. Her lips parted in invitation.
But he slid his hands down to her shoulders again, used his body to
press her hard against the door at her back, gripped her shoulders
again in that sharp grasp. She watched his face; his features had gone soft in a way she'd never seen before. She didn't know what it meant, only what she hoped it meant, this alternately brutal and tender touch. The expression on his face.
God, please just kiss ?ne
.. .
When he looked up at her again, held her face in his hands, she wanted to cry. Why was he doing this to her? Torturing her, holding back, making her mind and her body whirl with the possibilities? He leaned in again, until she felt the whispering tickle of his dark goatee on her skin. His mouth was so close. She tilted her chin, but he shifted away, leaned his forehead against hers. She really did want to cry now.
She asked quietly, “Shaye . . . are you ever going to kiss me?”
“Yes.”
He shifted and his mouth brushed against hers, just a soft feathering of lips. He did it again, and again, all the while holding her face in his hands as though she were a precious thing. His lips were so soft. How could any man have lips this soft and plush? And the gentleness of his kisses went right to her heart, making it swell and ache as much as her sex did, until she was a confused mass of sensation and emotion. A small sob escaped her lips.
“Ah, Devin.”
He took her face more firmly then, crushed his lips to hers, opened her mouth and dove inside.
His tongue was hot against hers, twining, searching. And she was no longer in the role of submissive. She was simply a woman with a man she needed, a man she was falling for like a thousand stars falling through the night sky.
Her arms went around his neck. As hard as he pressed her against the door, his big frame pressed against hers, it wasn't enough. She needed to be closer. She couldn't take it anymore.
She pulled back, and once more he gazed into her eyes as though he could see into her soul. Tears stung at the back of her eyes, brimmed against her lashes. Pulling her in closer, he held her head against his shoulder. She could feel the panting rhythm of his breath. “Goddamn it, Devin. I can't do this to you. But I can't fucking help it anymore.” She lifted her head, shook it mutely. What did this mean? Would he leave her here, like this? Wanting, needy, breathless. A tear spilled down her cheek.
“I can't... hell, I can't
not
...” he muttered, before he bent and pressed his lips to hers once more.
The kiss was harder this time, his tongue driving into her mouth. His hands were everywhere: on her waist, sliding up over her ribs, cupping her breasts. He pressed his hips hard against her, his solid erection pushing into her belly. She moaned into the wet heat of his mouth as he began to pull her clothes off, then his own. Soon they were entirely naked, still pressed up against the door.
She couldn't believe how his body felt against hers, skin against skin. Every nerve in her body was singing. Her sex pulsed with raw, aching desire as he slid one hand down, pushed two fingers inside her. Her hips bucked into his hand, and he shifted to press his thumb against her clit. He never took his mouth from hers; they breathed into each other. She thought briefly, wildly, that this was the most erotic moment of her life. When she took his swollen cock in her hand he groaned. God, he was big. The velvet weight of it in her hand hit her like a blow that reverberated pure sex through her entire body.
She ran her other hand all over him: his arms, shoulders, buttocks.
He was taut, steel-hard muscle everywhere she touched. Lovely.
He moved his mouth lower and sucked at that tender spot at the
base of her neck, sending ripples of pleasure through her. And she
gave his cock a long, slow stroke, then another, moving in rhythm
with his fingers inside her, with the circling of his thumb against her clit. She was so close . . . “Jesus, Devin.”
“Please, Shaye. Please. I need you.”
“Yes,” he murmured, then grasped her ass in his big hands and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around him, her sex soft and open to the probing head of his cock. Then he slid right in, impaling her. She gasped at the size of him, filling, stretching her. It hurt almost as much as it felt good. Didn't matter. The pain and the pleasure were all one thing to her.
He gave her a moment, held still, his cock buried deep inside her. They were both panting, and her body was filling up with desire like a flood of molten heat. When he moved his hips, pulling out of her, then sliding slowly back in, she moaned. So did he. Tremors of excitement ran through her, starting low in her sex, moving deeply into her body, spreading through her stomach, her breasts, her arms and legs. Then he really began to pump into her. She held on tight to his shoulders, her body awash in pleasure, sharp stinging currents running through her like an electrical surge.
It wasn't long before that pleasure crested, peaked, until she couldn't hold back anymore. Her body exploded, her sex clenching, her breath coming in ragged gasps. And before it was over, Shaye groaned, his muscles tensing all over, and he pumped into her harder than ever, driving her climax on in deep, shuddering waves. He collapsed with her against the door, still holding her up, still inside her body. She quivered all over with the last remnants of her orgasm. But his arms were still strong around her.
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