Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender (17 page)

Chapter Three

Susannah

‘Flattery will get you… well, it’ll get you.’ I toy with the stem of my glass.

I’ve got to stop playing silly games here. Do I want to go to bed with my first love or not? It’s no use leading him on if I don’t really mean it.

Who am I kidding? He’s gorgeous. I want him. And I have the strongest feeling that he might be able to show me what it’s all about, this secret, tantalising world that all my friends seem to have entered.

‘Is that a fact?’ His smile is puckish, daring.

He’s up for it if I am. I know that. I don’t usually do casual pickups, one-night stands and all that. But he and I have got form. History. It would be more meaningful. Honouring our past, and maybe making up for the hurt I know I caused him.

Oh, what the hell am I talking about? I’m horny; it’s as simple as that. And he’s most definitely horny too, judging by the perturbation in those dark jeans of his. What’s to stop us? God, it
is
a wedding after all. It’s practically compulsory to pull!

That gorgeous smile of his widens. He’s seen me checking out his package. He reaches for my hand and takes it in his. The hold is warm, firm, dry. No nervous sweat for this confident man. ‘Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? What’s the point in wasting time here? We’ve decided to forego the “this is your life” catch-up. We’re both adults. We even know each other. Why don’t we just go to bed?’ He winks, the devil. ‘Or do something else if you’re genuinely feeling curious about what you’re missing.’

I feel like I’m a jet on a runway, all engines revving, ready to launch. I’m not quite sure about the kink, not suddenly ‘all in’ from a standing start. But sex, yes. I want it and know it’ll be good. After our first couple of fumbling disasters, we were always good together. Even back then, Jamie had a natural sensual flair and the ability to please me as much as himself.

‘I think I’ll just start with the straight sex if you don’t mind.’

He laughs out loud. It’s a young, free, happy sound, taking me back over the years.

‘With options open,’ I add, grinning back at him.

I’m speeding down the runway. Almost at V1.

Then I stall. ‘I bet we can’t get a room. It might have to be a knee-trembler somewhere. I’m sure we won’t be the only ones though.’

Jamie leaps lightly to his feet, drawing me up too. ‘But I’ve got a room.’ He beams. ‘I came on the bike, so I decided to book accommodation. I knew I’d be having a few drinks, and I never ride when I’ve had alcohol.’

‘Oh, so you are a biker then. I thought you must be, what with the leather jacket and the boots and all.’

‘Just a weekend rider, really. Not a Hells Angel.’ He tugs lightly on my hand, then turns to the barman, nodding at our champagne bottle in its bucket. ‘Could you send that, and another one like it, up to room 117, please.’

The man nods back, and Jamie exerts more pressure, leading me forward to weave through the tables towards the foyer and the lifts.

Within the blink of an eye, we’re alone in the metal box, going up. It’s just a short ride, and all Jamie does is dust a strangely courtly kiss on my knuckles, looking up at me intently over them. What’s in his mind? What’s he planning? Apart from the obvious.

He’s a strong man. A man confident in his own skin. He wears black and leather. He’s almost the cliché of a dominant master, from what little I’ve gleaned about such things.

His mouth is firm and his eyes control me. My stomach flutters at the idea. But there’s an almost angelic softness to his thick, glossy black hair that brushes his shoulders.

Perhaps he is a Hells Angel after all?

I want to leap forwards and kiss his lips, but the lift door opens, and he leads me out and along the corridor to his room. He doesn’t speak, but his beautiful eyes and his imperious body language say everything. Once in the room, he pulls me into his arms, and I melt towards him, powerless. The strap of my bag slides off my shoulder, and it drops to the carpet. I don’t seem to have the will to pick it up; everything is for Jamie, my total concentration as he cradles my head and brings his mouth down on mine in just the way I wanted in the lift.

It’s as if we never parted, yet somehow he’s gained twelve years of manhood and potency and self-belief. His tongue pushes between my lips immediately, bold and muscular and subduing. The taste of him is champagne and overproof alpha male. The kiss is like an engine turned on inside me. Wanton, I press myself against him, my belly against the considerable hard knot of his denim-clad cock.

‘Very nice,’ he growls against my mouth. ‘Very keen. I like that.’ He nips at my lower lip, his teeth closing in perfectly gauged dominion. ‘Don’t ever hide your desire from me, Suzie. Don’t hold back.’

The kiss begins again, but more so. Much more. Jamie the mature man is far more voracious than the younger Jamie. He knows exactly what he wants and he’s taking it. A little fear grips my heart. What have I got myself into? I’m not sure I can control this situation, but then, why would I want to? If I want to experience the games of BDSM that I know my friends play, willing submission is the key to it. Even if there’s no pain involved, there’s power. His power.

The moment I think that, his hands slide down my body, down my back to my buttocks. He grips them firmly, assessing, then crams me closer to his cock as his tongue dives deeper. I feel as if I’m being consumed from within by his desire and my own. I can’t help myself; I grind against him, loving his rampant hardness, using it as a fulcrum on which to work my pussy. My skirt is lightweight and my panties are thin. If I rub hard enough, I can massage my clit against his bulge.

He laughs, rocking back against me, knowing what I’m up to. Before I know what’s happening, he’s hauling up my skirt and bunching it at my hips, exposing my bottom. He squeezes me again, then in a flick of the wrist, he has a hand to the front of me, and he’s pushing it into my flimsy, lacy knickers, diving for my cleft with his fingertips. When he finds my clit he gives it a rough, possessive rub. It’s not a finesse move, but I groan with instant pleasure. It’s exactly what I wanted and he’s read me perfectly.

‘You like that, don’t you?’ He doesn’t give me chance to answer; he kisses me hard again as he works me.

Rubbing, rubbing, rubbing. An orgasm flies in chaotically from left field, so sudden and intense it almost stuns me. Gasping against him, I droop, knocked sideways by it, but he holds me tight with his free arm, even while he doesn’t let up with the stimulation.

‘Oh God… oh God…,’ I chant. It’s all so quick and furious I almost can’t enjoy it. I do though.

‘Again. Come again,’ he commands, still plaguing my flesh. And I do come, strange tears forming in my eyes, as other moisture, my honey, pools in my cleft.

I’m a mess. A pulsing, trembling, panting mess… and suddenly there’s a knock at the door.

‘That’ll be the champagne,’ says Jamie, withdrawing his hand from my knickers and flicking my skirt back down into place. At the same time, he drops a sweet and tender kiss on the side of my face. ‘I’ll deal with it. Why don’t you pop into the bathroom and… er… compose yourself.’ He waggles his dark eyebrows and winks again.

Never having felt less composed than I do at this moment, I plunge down and grab my bag and make a dash for the bathroom door as Jamie calls out ‘Come!’ to the room service.

Come? I just did. Twice.

And it’s only about half an hour since I set eyes on him for the first time in twelve long years.

Chapter Four

Jamie

God, I hope the waiter doesn’t notice that my hands are shaking as I sign for the champagne. I’m supposed to be in charge, in control, and I’m all over the place. When the man’s gone, I sit down on the bed and just breathe, slowly and steadily.

Hell, twelve years and she’s got to me again, just like that. Turned me into a crazy man, losing it with lust.

All I can hope is that she doesn’t notice it. That she doesn’t realise what she’s doing to me. I’ve spent too many years trying not to succumb to my emotions where women are concerned. First in the aftermath of Suzie herself, and then later, in a couple of other relationships where I loved too much and made myself vulnerable. Not physically. Not in the dynamics of power exchange. But in my heart.

Since then I’ve studiously avoided that pattern, but I can see the signs of it again now. I’m dying for pleasure with her, but I must also keep her at a distance. Keep myself safe, detached. Will I have to tell her that? Should I? Somehow I’ve a feeling that she might understand anyway. She was always the sensible one, the pragmatic one. She was the one with the smarts to know that we could never have sustained a long-distance relationship, that we should just quit while we were ahead and still liked each other.

Liked? Oh, it was a lot more than that. On my part at least.

I loved her and I wanted it all.

But that’s not what I want this time. I’m up for liking and fondness, yes, and a brief interlude of sexual experimentation. Nothing more than that.

The champagne we began down in the bar is probably losing its bubbles, so I pour out two glasses, drink a little from mine, and then top it up. I don’t need alcohol, but somehow the act of sipping centres me and brings me back to reality.

And a very pleasant reality it is too, a beautiful woman who’ll be mine in just a few moments.

A beautiful woman who wants to play exactly the sort of games I’m in the mood for.

Come on, Suzie! Don’t spend all your time in there!

Chapter Five

Susannah

I’m still shaking from that orgasm. Even though I’ve tidied my hair and make-up and done the other things I need to do. It’s like I haven’t had a climax since I was last with Jamie, and the pent-up waiting for it has blown the top of my head off. Metaphorically speaking.

‘Calm down, woman,’ I tell myself. If I fly to pieces before we’ve really got started, this evening is only going to end in tears. More tears, and real ones this time.

Turning to the mirror, I smile at myself and silently laugh. I am such a fool, such a drama queen. All I need to do is relax and enjoy myself. Enjoy a man I know is sexually compatible, and a nice guy too, at heart. Some more of that champagne will help. That is if his ‘master’ act doesn’t involve denying me it.

With a last fluff of my hair, I leave the bathroom.

Jamie is lounging on the bed, boots and socks off and shirt open. Being barefoot doesn’t do anything to reduce his alpha qualities, and as he leaps to his feet, he seems more dynamic and powerful than ever.

‘Are you okay?’ he asks softly, touching my face.

‘I’m fine. I’m great, in fact.’ I give him what I hope is a seductive look. ‘You haven’t lost your touch, you know.’

He grins and looks pleased with himself. He’s got the message that I want to play and have kinky fun, that I want to keep it pervy but light.

‘Good.’ He pauses, then reaches for one of the champagne glasses on the bedside table and hands it to me before taking a quick sip from the other. ‘Enjoy your wine. My turn in there.’ He nods to the bathroom and strides away.

But at the doorway he stops and turns. ‘When I come out of here, we’re playing. Do you understand?’

I nod and take a quick drink of the gorgeous wine.

‘But if you don’t want to play, just say so now.’ He gives me a gentler smile, more reassuring. ‘We can still have a good time together. No games. Just a night of sex.’

Just one night? No, Suze, don’t go there. There’s nothing more than tonight. That’s all he wants, and if I suddenly decide I want more, it will only spoil things. Just play it is…

‘I want to play. I’m ready.’ I give him a bold look, my chin up.

His answer is a little fist pump and a ‘Yes!’

As he disappears, I take a pull at my champagne. That was a weird little moment there, and I need to get a grip. Face facts. I’m getting a definite vibe from him, a sort of emotional hands off. It’s a strict sense of the finite—tonight only.

Is he involved with someone else? I don’t think so, and he’s not wearing a ring. Whatever he was or is, he would never cheat. He has an unshakable code of honour. But despite the fact I know he wants me, I don’t think he wants to be ‘involved’ with me.

Ruthlessly, I extinguish the little twinge of sadness that thought evokes. Concentrate on the now, fool. The excitement. The fact that you’re finally going to learn what all the secret fuss is about that your friends seem to derive such a glow from.

I finish the glass of wine and top it up so he won’t know I’ve been knocking it back, and then wander over to his leather jacket, thrown over the easy chair.

The hide is beautiful quality, soft and fine-grained, and the lining feels like real silk. Only the best for my Jamie, eh? I bet he’s done well for himself. He has that assured aura of a man who’s not short of money, and the champagne and the deluxe room in a hotel that’s known to be exclusive and pricey speak volumes.

I’ll bet his motorcycle isn’t an old rattletrap either.

I roam the room, looking at his belongings. He has a top-of-the-range laptop, the latest iPhone, and a sleek tan leather holdall, rather than some canvas or nylon overnight bag.

Everything elite. Nice to think he considers me an elite enough woman to be his overnight companion too, even with my admitted lack of experience.

I leap a mile when the door handle turns, almost spilling my champers as he enters the room.

He says nothing but quells me with a glance that takes in my fluttering nerves and the levels of wine in both my glass and the bottle. One dark eyebrow quirks in amusement. ‘Still a bad girl, eh, Suzie?’ His grin is narrow and sardonic, though there’s warmth in his eyes.

I open my mouth to say I never was a bad girl, really, but he silences me with a lift of his hand, and I stand frozen as he walks towards me and takes the glass out of my fingers, putting it aside.

‘Hush. You don’t have to say anything. Just be still and quiet and listen.’ Warmth becomes heat in his eyes, a stunning green fire. ‘Do you understand?’

I nod, not sure I should even be looking at him. But I can’t stop myself. He’s suddenly become a god.

‘Good girl. Now, first, an important ground rule. Do you know what a “safe word” is? I suspect you do, but we’ll need one to ensure we don’t go beyond your limits.’ He touches my face, his fingers curving around my jaw, making me meet his gaze. ‘Any ideas?’

There’s only one possible word. Those eyes.

‘Emerald.’

He nods, and his smile is totally unfeigned, totally free of artifice or games. ‘Good choice.’ More softly he adds, ‘Thank you.’

I’m shaking. Where his fingers touch my face it’s like he’s feeding electricity into me again. I feel as if I might ignite any moment, overcharged. Just when I think I’m about to faint, he releases me.

‘Kneel down, Suzie.’

Wait? What? Oh Lord, it’s starting…

I sink to my knees, trying to be graceful but feeling like a stumbling fool in the presence of my new deity. I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I just let my arms hang loose at my sides and lower my gaze, staring at Jamie’s naked feet. They’re narrow, like the rest of him, but they look strong. Fleet, as if he’s a runner as well as a biker. Maybe he is?

He stops my foolish mental meandering in its tracks by touching my face again and making me look directly at the one part of him I know isn’t lean and narrow. The part I know is thick and substantial, the part that’s currently straining against dark denim and his zip.

He’s touched me and made me come, and I haven’t even seen his cock yet, just its mighty outline. My mouth waters. Oh, I wish he’d let me suck him!

‘All in good time,’ he says as if he’s read my thoughts, his voice low and thrilling. Has he acquired magic mental mojo sometime in our long years apart? ‘But you may kiss the general area,’ he finishes with a soft laugh.

Oh, goody!

Leaning forward, I press my lips to the rough cloth and the hardness beneath it. I feel heat against my mouth, and the hardness takes my breath away. Down below, my pussy flexes as if calling to the hidden flesh I so long to pleasure with my lips and tongue.

In a quick, rough action, he digs his fingers into my hair and presses my face against his crotch, working his hips and rubbing the bulge against my lips and cheek. It’s an action of purest dominance, and I love it. My pussy jerks again, fluttering, even without the slightest contact.

Good grief, why did I never realise how submissive I really am?

Maybe it’s because I’m not really all that submissive? Except with Jamie Lennox.

I want to grovel before him, to kiss his feet, but at the same time, I feel a power bubbling in me. He might be in charge, but he’s susceptible to me too. His cock doesn’t lie. I bet I could tip him over, make him want and need release in just the way I do. Without stopping to think, I raise a hand and cup him, still rubbing my face against the front of his jeans.

‘You’re wilful, Suzie.’ His voice is stern, but with a thread of humour. This is a game, but it’s still fun, even for Mr Dominant Britches here. ‘You’re greedy. But if I grant you what you want, you’ll have to pay for it. You know that, don’t you?’

I nod, my fingers curving against his erection. The way he talks, it’s like me sucking him off is some enormous imposition that he’ll have to endure to indulge me.

When really he’s dying for it as much as I am. He always used to adore being fellated. It was the thing he used to ask for most of all, typical of a male that age.

He reaches for my chin and tips it up, compelling me to look at other parts of him than his package. His darkened eyes give him away totally, pupils enormous with lust. ‘Very well then, get on with it. Let’s get it over so we can move on to the main point of all this.’ His mouth quirks in a grin even though he’s still maintaining his role as the master, weary of his acolyte’s foibles.

When I unfasten his jeans button and unzip him, his rampancy pushes out, stretching the black jersey of his underwear. Boxer briefs, I guess, wondering whether to prise him out through the fly aperture or push down the elastic.

Elastic, I think. It’ll give me more room to manoeuvre. I’m not very deft as I pluck the waistband of his briefs and tug it down, out of the way, easing it beneath his balls, but who would be, given the enormous distraction I’m now revealing.

Jamie’s cock bounces up, pointing high, and ruddy. His tip is already shiny with fluid, copious, gleaming pre-come that makes the plump head of him look infinitely enticing. Have I dreamt of living this moment again? I think I must have sometimes. Of the few partners I’ve had, he’s the most impressive, the most memorable.

I glance up at him, but his eyes are closed now. His face is taut with anticipation, and his body feels the same when I lay my hand against his thigh. He’s braced for incoming.