Her Highland Master (The Dungeon Fantasy Club Book 1) (9 page)

He smiled as he stepped into the shower, not having experienced the thrill of pursuit in ages.

*****

A knock on the door woke Zoey up from a pleasant, erotic dream. She shook her head. All night, her mind had replayed the events of last night; watching the butler screw a woman's brains out, only to have Declan appear and do the same to her.

The knock sounded again. "Come in." She sat up, wincing slightly at her tender backside, holding the covers to her chest. A woman entered, carrying a stack of clothing. It was the blonde from last night, the one Zoey had watched Jared bang. She felt her cheeks flush.

"Good morning, miss. Master Declan asked me to bring you these." The blonde set the stack on the edge of the bed before continuing, "and to give you this." She handed her an envelope. The creamy paper was thick and smooth, speaking volumes about the casual wealthy elegance of her host.

"Thank you, um, I'm sorry I don't know your name," Zoey said.

She smiled. "It's Sherry."

'Thank you, Sherry." Zoey watched the woman leave her room with a small smile playing about her lips. Did she know that she had watched her have sex last night? With the morning light, her anxiety rose over her actions the night before. Good girls didn't sleep with men they hardly knew. Good girls didn't let men tie them up and do all the things he had. Her thighs were tender, her nipples were chafed and sore, and she was certain that just one glance at her would show anyone she had been thoroughly ravished.

And punished. She couldn't forget that Declan had spanked her, hard enough that she still felt the lingering effects. Zoey felt like there were two parts of her; two distinct sides at war with each other. She was an independent, self-sufficient and, until recently, successful business woman. She had forged her own life, cared for her sister, and was more than capable of managing her own life. On the flip side, submitting her body to Declan had been one of the most freeing events of her life. Yet it made her feel weak and a bit abnormal. What did it say about her that she'd had the best sex of her life when she handed the control over completely to another person?

It was like those romance novels she had snuck into her room as a teenager. He had completely overpowered her with his sexual prowess. And what was more, she wanted him to do so again. Sometime during the night, she had made the decision that she was going to go all in and accept his proposal. Even as the two sides of her brain were in all-out war with each other, her body hummed with sweet anticipation. With a sigh, Zoey opened the envelope and withdrew the note.

Zoey,

A pleasant morning to you, lass. I hope you slept well. Please meet me in the library for breakfast at half past nine. We have much to discuss.

Yours,

Declan

Biting her lip, Zoey glanced at the pillow, which still held a faint indent of his head. She knew what he wanted to discuss: his offer to have an affair with him while she stayed at his home, free of charge. What did she want? All her upbringing screamed she should say no, that good girls didn't let a man they didn't know do the things he'd done to her last night.

Except that, at the thought of the previous night, her body melted at the memory. He had overpowered every single one of her senses, restrained her, and quite frankly, given her the best sex of her life. Zoey had had sex before last night. Enjoyable sex with nice men who had done their best to bring her pleasure—only they had failed miserably. Zoey had always thought it was something she was doing wrong. She was never encouraged to explore her body or her sexual nature with any of her partners. In the end, she'd thought that perhaps her body was just wired differently, for while she had enjoyed it, she'd always felt that something was missing.

Did she want to surrender to Declan, to be his submissive in the truest sense of the word? To grant him full permission not only to be used as his personal sex toy for the week, but to discipline her if she didn't follow his rules? Her body throbbed at the thought. Even the punishment, as awful as it had been at the time, had added to her connection to Declan, made her feel closer and more able to open up fully to him. He had spent the better part of the night tending to her body, her needs, and seeing that she was fully satisfied before he even allowed himself to seek his own release. Did she want him to do it all over again?

God, yes.

She had needed an escape from her life, a change of pace from her normal fifty hour work week, routine daily life, and men who bored her silly both in and out of the bedroom.

Declan was her every fantasy in the flesh. He fascinated her with his calm, confident exterior, and ability to deliver multiple orgasms. Why shouldn't she explore what he so readily offered? This was her chance to indulge in fantasies most women only dreamt about. Just thinking about the sexy Scot was enough to make her wet between the legs. Wasting no more time staring off into space, Zoey looked through the clothing selection, wondering from where—or whom—he had garnered the women's things as she made a choice.

She raced around the room, he had only provided her with thirty minutes. After a quick shower, she put herself together with a few minutes to spare, noting the slight bruises in the shape of fingers around her hips and thighs.

She left the room with her hair semi damp, and hurried to the library. She didn't want to be late. What if he changed his mind after she had made her decision? That thought had not crossed her mind before, and brought her up short as she entered the room.

What if he didn't want her again? What if he was one of those men who, once they conquered, they discarded? Zoey had never considered it, not once, and felt like a naïve nincompoop. Trust her to always believe she saw the good in people only to be let down.

*****

Declan studied the interplay of emotions that ran across Zoey's face upon entering the room and spying him near the table. She was a vision in the jeans that looked like they had been lacquered onto her body. Her ample breasts were spilling out of the miniscule bra that was at least a cup size too small. It made her round globes pillow on her chest and he felt himself harden.

"Come, we have much to discuss, sweet lass." He pulled the chair out for her, noticing her pulse racing as she settled into the chair. Her scent surrounded him, vanilla and peaches, making him want to lap her up.

Releasing his hold on her chair, he joined her at the table again, prepared to seduce her in whatever way necessary to see that she ended up back in his bed. "Did you sleep well?"

She swallowed a bite of eggs before responding. "Yes, and you?"

"Better than I have in some time," he purred. Color bloomed in her cheeks at his candor and he smiled to himself as he watched hunger for more than just food spark in her gaze.
Yes, eat up lass, you will need it
. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes.

"Thank you for the clothes. I don't know how I'm going to get my things," she said.

"Speaking of which, I have Jared out right now, attempting to see if he can retrieve them for you. The storm let up enough so hopefully you will have your suitcase and its contents within the hour."

"Thank you, you've been very kind. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't taken me in."

Pleasure spread through him at her genuine sentiments. Most of the women he knew would automatically expect that help be given them, and wouldn't offer any appreciation for his efforts to aid them. But not Zoey—she appeared surprised that anyone would help her. Everything about her brought out his protective instincts. He wanted to know more about her. Why didn't she expect people to help her? Was she all alone in the world? Was that why she was traveling on her own?

"Zoey, no thanks are needed, but I appreciate them nonetheless."

Finished with his meal, he studied her expectant face. "Have you given any thought to my offer? About spending the week with me intimately, allowing me to show you more of my BDSM tastes, and granting me access to your body whenever the whim strikes me?"

Her pupils dilated, breath hitched in her throat, and he noticed the pulse at her neck speed up. All good signs. His body hummed in anticipation as she gazed at him.

"Zoey?"

"Yes." She sighed.

Heat lashed through him at her capitulation and his body went rock hard. He wanted to seal their agreement. Wouldn't his little lass be surprised at what he had in store for her? Standing up, he held out his hand.

"Come, sit with me on the couch."

She set her small hand into his and he felt the slight tremors. That would be something they would address. She didn't need to fear him. He led her over to the dark burgundy leather couch, sat and pulled her onto his lap. She was a comfortable armful. She wiggled her lush ass and his cock strained inside his trousers.

He stroked his hands over her, learning the contours of her body as he talked. "There are a couple rules for this week that we should go over."

"Okay." He heard the hesitation, mixed with desire. He caressed her, wanting her to become familiar with his touch and because it pleased him. Declan could tell she was trying not to moan as one hand snaked under her shirt and bra to play with her nipple. He loved her breasts. They filled his hand to overflowing. He could spend hours playing with just those.

"First, you must follow my orders. You are not the one in control. If I ask you to do something, I expect you to obey or there will be discipline." She shivered under his hands. He turned her gaze toward his, holding her chin.

"I will never harm you. I won't beat you, that is not the type of relationship I want with my sub—other than the slight discomfort you might feel if I need to spank you again, and Zoey, if you disobey me, you will be spanked. Last night I was gentle but in the future, I will redden your ass cheeks, understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good lass. For this week, I need you to offer me your trust. Know that my ultimate goal is to pleasure us both. I will push the boundaries of your body and that may seem a little unsettling, but with your surrender you will experience more pleasure than you ever dreamed. Do you understand?" he asked, searching her face for any signs that she wanted out of the arrangement. All he saw was desire clouding her gaze as his other hand tweaked her nipple.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Sir." She breathed out a groan as she answered.

"Good lass. Now, second, you may go anywhere within my home except the lower level. Never enter the lower level without me. Any sub who enters the lower level is considered fair game by the Doms, and by going there you are consenting to have sex with whichever Dom orders you to—not to mention that, if you did, I would be forced to discipline you for disobeying a direct order. Do you understand?"

He rolled the sensitive nipple between his fingers, feeling her squirm in his lap.

"Yes, Sir." She panted, biting her lip. He took her mouth, showing her with more than words that he meant to possess her in every way possible. He would know her inside and out before the week was over. More thoroughly than any man ever had. That was part of what he loved about being a dominant; having a woman open to him completely, not holding anything back, and the beauty of the uninhibited surrender.

He took his time exploring her lips, sucking the bottom one into his mouth. Tracing his tongue around all the dips and contours, learning what she responded to, how she tasted, and the heady feeling of her response as she kissed him back. His tongue mimicked the movements of what his cock would be doing as he thrust inside her mouth.

He broke the kiss. "And the last rule; whenever I request your presence, and the use of your body, you will submit without question. I will decide when and where I will fuck you. It will not necessarily be limited to at night, but to what I need. With that in mind, strip for me," he commanded, giving her the first true lesson in what it meant to be his submissive.

Her eyes widened as realization dawned on her that he planned to make love to her in the library and he set her on her feet. He watched the war between her mind and her body. Her hands were at her sides, flexing in her indecision momentarily before she pulled first her top, then her too-small bra off. Her beautiful breasts bounced, swaying heavily as she bent over and undid her jeans, sliding them down over her shapely legs. The delicate strip of lace covering her pussy followed the same route. She folded her clothing and put it on the coffee table before returning to him.

He pulled her into his lap so that her backside rested against him, much like it had when he had used his body as a heater for hers. It left her body free and at his mercy to explore. This way he would feel every reverberation and could uncover her responses. With his hands, he spread her legs, opening them, using his own thighs to prop hers wide open, giving him full access to her succulent cunt. Her breathing came in soft, shallow pants.

"There's a good lass," he whispered along her neck, nibbling at her tender flesh. He loved the way she tasted. She smelled like sunshine and rain on a warm summer day. His hands roamed the front of her body, feeling her moan as he toyed with her heavy breasts. His fingers tugged at the nipples, rolling them between his fingers, testing the weight of them. Teasing her, he traced his fingers around one nipple but avoided the areola itself as it puckered for him. She squirmed, arching her back with desire.

"Don't move, lass." He kneaded the sensitive mounds. He'd fuck these eventually, his erection felt nigh onto bursting at the thought. He pushed the large globes together, tugging on the pert nipples.

She started to move her arms under his, trying to move his hands where she wanted them. This experience was as much about sealing their agreement as it was about showing her what he expected, and how far she would allow him to push her. He stopped his ministrations and she lamented the loss. "Keep your hands at your sides, lass, or I will stop."

"Yes, Sir," she sighed. He sucked her earlobe into his mouth as she complied. His hands trailed further down her body, caressing her abdomen, tracing the curve of her hips, committing her body to memory. Her skin was as supple and soft as rose petals. Then he slid his hands to the apex between her legs, running his hand over her thighs, her legs trembling. He felt her breath hitch as his fingers reached her sex. He dipped his fingers between her slick folds, cupping her mound, and growled in his chest. She was already saturated. He traced and touched her pussy, the tender flesh swelling in her desire. He separated her labia, learning the feel of those delicate little lips, noticing her response as he circled her clit with his fingers but not touching the nub. Feeling her mound swell as her desire grew made his cock harden. She was making little mewling noises that were driving him wild. He grazed his finger over her clit and she moaned, her head falling back against his chest. His fingers teased her sensitive tissues, raking her clit, and he was rewarded with breathy little moans. He pinched and rubbed her clit, then slid a finger inside her vagina, and she bucked in his hand.