Marked for Pleasure (4 page)

Conner forced his muscles to relax as he strode down the corridor to her room. The rooms were familiar to him only because he used the same programs on his own personal ship. First he wanted the bench. Then, perhaps, he would plug her ass. The defiant look in her blue eyes came back to him. Yes, he wanted to break this one. He wanted her screaming with pleasure and defying him up until the last minute. Those were the submissives he liked.

He reached her door and keyed it open. As her registered dominant, he could walk in and out of her room with impunity. The sight that met his gaze made his cock stiffen and strain against his pants.

Head bent, knees pressed into the carpet, hands clasped behind her back, and her breasts thrust out for his inspection, the woman had the stance down picture-perfect. He studied her closely. He hadn't taken the time to inspect her in detail before. Her skin was only slightly marred, white and smooth. Her arm hair was as blonde as her hair, and he glanced at the patch of hair covering her pussy. A real blonde.

Her hips flared out to a generous ass with few marks. Her muscles were well developed. She was no wuss. This woman could fight if she wanted to. Her hair was short, just below her ears, yet long enough to hang in her face. The lines of her neck were graceful, her breasts large with pink areolae tightened from his perusal.

While her glance was lowered, he gazed around the room. He narrowed in on something he recognized. A hidden laser pistol. Interesting. What would a pleasure-seeking submissive need with a laser pistol? All the more reason to believe she was the woman he sought.

He shot a glance at her and caught her looking at him. The defiance, the resistance he noted there, just made him harder. He dropped his bag on the floor near the door of her bedroom. She'd be begging him, whoever she really was.

“You have not completely followed my instructions.”
First test, little bird.

“You told me to strip and be on my knees,” she said, her voice low and tight.

“I told you to be ready,” he said sharply and jammed two fingers in her dry pussy. “That is not ready.” He ignored her gasp and turned toward the console.

It was only instinct that saved him. A laser blast burned the wall just as he spun away and dove for the floor. Another laser blast cut through the carpet and almost sliced through his fingers. He launched himself at the woman.

She held the wicked laser pistol pointed at his head, but he ducked and caught her hand. She fought him, catching him in the ribs in a bruising slash of her hand, but he knocked her on her ass, and the pistol skittered across the floor. Without a thought, he smashed his boot onto the gun, shattering it. This woman was
not
his contact.

His knee went numb when she drove a fist into the muscle above it. Goddamn it. He didn't want to hurt her, but he wasn't going to let her kill him. She attacked again, and this time, he managed to contain her, but not before she almost killed him with a blow to his carotid. He slammed her face-first into the floor, then straddled her. Conner jerked her hands to her back and, with a flick of buttons on his HITU, switched the controls on the panel to voice activated.

Even while he gasped for breath, his cock stiffened in his pants. Her body heaved upward to try and dislodge him, but he held on. “Bench.” She probably didn't realize it, but the fight had only intensified his excitement. Who the hell was she? He jerked her to her feet and bent her over the bench, her ass in the air, her breasts dangling. Very nice. Touchable, fuckable, spankable.

He tested her now. Her pussy was wet. He wasn't the only one who got off on fighting as foreplay. She whimpered and redoubled her effort to break free. Didn't she know she could say her safe word and every single restraint would let her go? She knew. He could only conclude this was something she wanted, something she fought consciously but demanded unconsciously.

The restraints on the bench held her arms splayed, and her head hung over the bench. He tied her feet, avoiding her vicious, silent kicks. Did she have any idea how beautiful and desirable her fighting made her?

He stripped. Crazy thing to do when the woman had just tried to kill him, but he wanted skin on skin. He wanted to feel her squirm in his lap like she had earlier. He wanted the promise in her eyes, the pink flush on her skin, the red stripes on her ass.

Her pussy glistened the more she fought, and her nipples were taut buds of need. He couldn't resist. He reached out and rolled them between his fingers, her resulting gasp like water for a thirsty man. “You want me. You don't want to want me. We'll get to that,” he said as he pinched her nipples, and she groaned. “I don't want you to talk, little bird. I want you to
scream
.”

He stood behind her, her tantalizing ass so perfect, so white, just where he wanted it. His voice was hoarse when he gave the order. “Bench vibrator.” A long dildo appeared from the side of the bench and slipped inside her pussy. She moaned long and low.

His dick rested against her ass, and he felt her tense. He smiled. That, too, would be his. All of it. But not yet. He brought his hand back and connected with the sweet, lush flesh of her buttocks. Not full force, but enough to sting. Enough to make her skin turn a gorgeous pink. She jerked, and he heard the suction of the vibrator, her cream making it slide easier. And faster.

Again, his hand smacked her ass as the vibrator slammed inside her pussy. He increased his speed until he struck her in time to the vibrator's thrusts and slid his cock along the crack of her ass. The way her skin glowed and the squirm of her ass made precum squeeze out from the tip of his penis.

She threw her head back, and her breath caught. Conner gripped her hair so he could watch her face as she shattered. With his other hand, he thrust two fingers inside her anus and rolled them, rimming her entrance. A low, keening sound escaped her, and a lone tear rolled down her cheek.

His dick ached to slam inside her pussy or her ass or her mouth, he didn't care. But patience was the game here. To find out who she really was, he had to strip her of her resistance.

“Anal plug.” A drawer opened on the console, and he released his grip on her only to retrieve the lubricated, rounded toy. He twisted it inside her ass and pressed it to the hilt. Then he touched a button, and the thing vibrated. Her body tensed. “Withdraw vibrator.”

Cream dripped as the vibrator slid out of her pussy. She whimpered. “Please…”

“Say the word,” he snapped.

She twisted her neck to stare at him, her blue eyes cloudy. Her tongue darted out and licked her lips. He stared at her, waiting for her response. She blinked and said, “I don't understand.” Her voice cracked.

And she didn't understand. Whatever or whoever she might be, she couldn't fake her response to his domination. Clearly she was a trap, using his sexual appetite against him. But he was good at this game. He twisted the plug, and she moaned. One thrust of his fingers in her slick channel, one flick of his fingers over her swollen clit, and she'd explode. He held her there, dangling on the edge.

Her lower lip trembled, and she met his gaze over her shoulder. “Please,” she whispered.

“Please what, little bird?” He ground the question out.
Say it, little bird.

She closed her eyes and squirmed on the bench. “No,” she whispered.

He bent close to her ear. “I am your master, little bird. You will tell me everything.” With his thumb, he flicked her clit in short, hard strokes as his other hand thrust the anal plug deeper, twisting and turning it inside her tight channel.

Beneath him, she screamed, her cum flowing over his hand and her ass angling toward the plug. His own release boiled, his cum so close to spurting all over her ass.

He gripped her hair and jerked her head back. “I'm going to fuck you now. What is your name?”

“Honey Zenia.”

He teased her entrance but refused to enter. Instead, he reached around her and pinched one of her nipples hard. She cried out and shifted, trying to escape him. “Liar.” He whispered in her ear. “If you don't tell me your real name, I'll keep you on the edge of an orgasm for our remaining time together.” He bit her neck, marking her. “After a while, the edge becomes like a razor. It's painful yet…exciting.”

“I don't know what you want me to tell you.”

He smiled. “Your real name.” He slid the tip of his cock just inside her pussy, and she tried to shift to drive him deeper. He withdrew and twisted her nipple again. His belly pressed against the anal plug, jamming it farther inside her ass.

“I told you.”

“You lied.”

“Please.” She sobbed and tried to move, to shift her body, to find relief. But there would be no relief until she told him the truth.

“If I am your master, tell me.” He twisted her nipple again, and she gasped.

“No, you're not my master.”

“You are mine. My submissive. For the moment.” He swirled the head of his cock around her entrance. “Don't come until I tell you to.”

Jesus, she felt warm and wet. His cock slid just inside the entrance of her pussy easily, and her muscles clamped around him. He felt the shudders, the way she vibrated around his cock, and knew she struggled to hold back.

Nothing else mattered. They weren't enemies. Forgotten was the fact that she probably wanted him dead. His mission and hers were discarded for this—the slide of his cockhead inside her pussy, the way her submission inspired his mastery.

For some reason, Conner wanted even more. He wanted her to call him “Master” before he fucked her.

He pulled out and yanked the anal plug out of her ass. He flicked the restraints from her wrists and her ankles. Before she could move, he flipped her over. Her back rested on the bench, and he lifted her legs until her ankles were by his ears.

Hard and fast, he thrust the tip of his penis inside her again. It was torture. He watched her face, the flush that spread over her skin, the way she fought back the wave of her orgasm. Her hands rose, and her fingers rolled her nipples. He leaned forward and brushed one of her hands aside. His mouth captured her tit, and his tongue swirled around the hard bud. Her hand gripped his hair; her body arched toward his mouth. Sweet, she tasted sweet.

He lifted his head and stared at her. Her response, her willingness to hold back, her sweet surprise worked magic on him. Power flooded him. His cock ached to slam deep inside her, desperate to release a stream of cum inside her for the ultimate marking as “his.” He leaned closer, his mouth a breath from hers. “Who am I, little bird?”

She blinked. “I won't say it.”

Face-to-face, he realized he wanted that word “Master” from her lush lips more than anything else.

What happened to her? When had she become this strange creature that craved Conner Mitchum's hands, his fingers, his punishment? Intent on killing him, she hadn't considered what would happen if she succumbed to the sexual attraction she had ignored. Now the price had to be paid.

She planned to kill him. Instead, he mastered her. He was no longer Conner Mitchum. He was her master, the man who held her orgasm in his hands. She couldn't explain it, even to herself. But she wasn't going to admit it to him. No fucking way.

The need within her almost drowned her. But he controlled her responses, each one darker and more intense than the last. She shuddered beneath him, his cock just barely within her throbbing pussy. Holding back her orgasm was becoming painful. But he hadn't told her to come. Suddenly it was the most important thing in the world to hold back. Why? This man was the enemy. He was not her master.

His power over her was insidious and strong. She fought him and herself.
Don't listen to him. He can't tell you what to do
. She was pinned beneath him, but she did the one thing he'd ordered her not to.

She let the wave wash over her with a crash, and her orgasm ripped through her. Her nipples tingled, her muscles tried to clench his cock inside her. He withdrew swiftly, but that didn't stop the flow of her cum pressing outward and drenching her thighs. His hand wrapped around her throat, and still, she convulsed, her release like the wind, blowing through them both.

Tears slid from her eyes. She'd defied him, disobeyed him. What now? Adrenaline shot through her. His hand gripped her throat, his cock iron hard on her inner thigh. His eyes glittered like emeralds. His brown hair was mussed, his features tight with displeasure. “You will call me 'Master.'” His hand tightened, and she gasped for breath. “When you do, you'll know what that means.”

He yanked her to her feet and twisted her arms behind her back. His voice was harsh. “I don't know who you are, but you tried to kill me. That makes everything you've said on those lovely questionnaires null and void by my standards.”