Meeting Her Master (13 page)

“She looks like a sacrificial virgin,” Manny whispered to Giada. “But Blake said he hates rape and this…”

“Was agreed upon prior to this day,” Blake interrupted, overhearing him. “She asked me to play a rape scene with her so that she wouldn
’
t feel at odds with having a cock driven into her. As she puts it, it is one of her ‘lesbian hang-ups
’
and she doesn
’
t want to betray her cause,” he laughed.

“She has a cause?” Giada asked with a grin.

Ginger cried softly as Blake came around and began to spank her immobilized rump with a belt he had borrowed from a guest. He whipped it with a sharp snap against her milky skin, quickly painting streaks of pink and red over the high globes. Blake watched her carefully, monitoring her breathing, body language, and even her scent. It drove him wild.

His rigid organ was unleashed from his pants and the bobbing head aimed toward the widely spread lips of her womanhood. He pressed the bulb against her and waited to feel her push against him. He plunged inside in an instant and Ginger screamed in wild abandon.

The hands began to stroke her soothingly, the mouths covering her with kisses and gentle licking as Blake began to slowly move his cock within her body. Ginger moaned, smacking her ass against him as he pumped.

“Harder,” she whispered. “Show me what I have been missing.”

Blake willingly complied as he rammed his condomed shaft into her, holding her against his pelvis by the hips. He grunted as his own climax grew close and he banged roughly into her body. Ginger slammed her fist down on the chair, her head rolling back before she let loose a primal howl of lust. After three strokes, Blake joined her, and the onlookers cheered his success.

After Blake withdrew from her and once again held his cock captive in his slacks, Ginger continued to jerk spontaneously. The audience began to disperse after offering their gratitude for being invited to such a special viewing. Ginger smiled and nodded, still voiceless as she recovered from her experience. She still had not moved from the kneeling position on the ottoman when Blake brought her a flute of champagne and lifted it to her lips to sip it.

“How are you holding up, Ginger?” he asked gently.

“You almost have me convinced that real cock might be a fun addition to my toy box,” Ginger chuckled, allowed him to help her sit up. “Thanks for the fantasy.”

“Was it what you wanted?”

“That and much, much more. Having the audience participate was pure genius. I am sore,” Ginger admitted, swallowing the flute. “How big are you anyway?”

“Big enough, baby. I
’
m gonna have one of my slaves take you in the bathhouse and clean you up. I need to check on Dahlia.”

“She
’
s falling in love with you, Blake. It
’
s in her eyes. Be careful with the kid, okay? If you aren
’
t going to be serious with her, find her a positive distraction to keep her from being too hurt.”

“Absolutely. Giada? Get her comfortable, please. And have one of the slaves set up the guest cottage for her. I don
’
t want her driving home tonight.”

“Yes, Master. Oh, yes, Professor Hodges wants to speak with you if you have time. I moved him to your office when the guests left and explained that you would need some time with Ginger for aftercare.”

“You are the best, Giada. Please give him my regrets, but I have to see to Dahlia. I also want to thank you for your service tonight. Did you enjoy yourself?”

“I did, Master. So will Humberto,” she giggled. “He was smiling when he hurried out the front door.”

“Excellent. Finish the assignments and then go home and pleasure your man. I will see you tomorrow.”

“If he lets me come up for air,”
Giada laughed.

“Consider me advised of your dilemma should you be tardy or fail to arrive in the morning,” Blake kissed her cheek and sent her to Ginger with a smack.

Blake cracked his knuckles and then started down the quiet hall toward his wing of the house, realizing that his long strides had doubled their speed in an effort to get to Dahlia sooner. Taking a deep breath, he tapped on her door and then slowly cracked it open.

She was sleeping, tucked under the comforter with her blond and pink hair pulled back in a neat braid. Her eyebrow gem glittered in the moonlight that streamed in from her window. On impulse, Blake stripped off his clothes and slid into the bed next to her, wrapping his large arms around her cool body and pulling her against his warm chest and stomach. He reached around her pelvis and anchored it against his own, leaving his hand tucked between her soft thighs. He kissed the back of her head and closed his eyes, finally at ease.

“Cold,” she murmured in her sleep, pressing snugly into him and curling her legs to wiggle her toes between his calves. Blake chuckled, adoring the instinctive way she sought his warmth, and he pulled another blanket over her before resuming his possessive embrace. He was hooked. Ginger had warned him that Dahlia was falling in love with him already, and he certainly did not want to take advantage of her vulnerability, but this was one pet he intended on keeping as his own. He just prayed that she would be agreeable to his decision.

* * *

Rays of bright sunlight bore into the room the following morning, accompanied by the chorus of birds chirping as they hopped among the splashing fountains. Blake opened his eyes and blinked absently at the ceiling while Dahlia quietly turned to snuggle her face against his chest. He groaned inwardly, realizing that he had abandoned his policy against ‘overnighters
’
in order to be with this woman. He slid his hand under his head and frowned. What was he thinking?

“Dahlia? Honey doll, it is time to get up. You have chores this morning,” he whispered, nudging her gently.
Where was Giada anyway?
She should have come in and gotten the girl up hours ago.
Oh, yes… last night… the hard-working slave deserved some time off.

“Don
’t wanna get up. Warm,
” Dahlia murmured back, digging her nose into his pectoral muscle. Her mouth found his nipple and began to suck gently on the tip, tickling him with her tongue.

Blake groaned and pulled the sheet over his chest. “Just what do you think you are doing, young lady? Get your bottom out of bed and go do your chores. There is time to play later if you are good.”

Dahlia sat up and stretched, causing the blanket to fall from her naked body. She looked over at him with a tired expression, her hair disheveled and some red marks on her left cheek. “When did you come to bed? I thought you didn
’
t do that.”

“Says who?”

“The staff. They told me all about your quirks, Mr. Turner. The first and foremost was that you never sleep, literally, with anyone. They didn
’
t know why.”

“Are you telling me that my staff gossips?” Blake asked, sitting up next to her.

“Like a locker room filled with horny teenagers. The men are worse, you know,” Dahlia grinned. “So how come you don
’
t sleep with anyone?”

“It isn
’
t that I don
’
t, it is that I chose not to. It is too… intimate.”

“Are you kidding me? All the sex and the bondage and shit, and you think the act of sleeping is intimate?” she laughed. The sad expression on his face sobered her up. “Did I hurt your feelings? I
’
m sorry. Talk to me.”

Blake shook his head. “No, my feelings aren
’t hurt. I don’
t know how to explain to you that, for me, intimacy isn
’
t something you do, it
’
s something you share. It
’
s about touching something at a deeper level and being vulnerable. I do not like being vulnerable. It is uncomfortable for me, so I avoid activities and emotions that bring on that feeling.”

“How is sleeping next to someone intimate? I want to understand,” Dahlia asked.

Blake sighed, pushing her head to rest on his thigh as he began to stroke her hair from her face. “I honestly can
’
t put it into words. Even talking about it makes me uncomfortable.”

“Yet, you are talking about it. With me. Why?”

“There is something unique about you, baby. Something that has yanked at my heartstrings from the second I almost ran you over. All the things I am to my slaves and staff is multiplied when it comes to you. And I don
’
t know why. It just is.”

“
Multiplied?
”

“I
’
m protective of my people, but I want to hover over you. I reward my staff, but I want to lavish you with gifts. I will have sex with my slaves, but you… you, I want to make love to. Damn it, Dahlia, this should not be so complicated. I am too old for you and…”

“How is it complicated?” Dahlia asked innocently. “You like me and I like you. There is nothing wrong with that, is there? As for you being old…”

“Older, brat.”

“Older,” Dahlia giggled. “Does it really make a difference? It is about having fun and…”

“No. That is where you are wrong. Intimacy is about sharing the heart, not the body. It is about allowing yourself to get close to another human being on a non-superficial level. It requires dialogue, transparency, vulnerability, and reciprocity.” He used his index finger to trace the wrinkle of confusion that furrowed in her brow. “It is about building a bond beyond that which we share with others in our lives.”

“
I don’
t think I
’
ve ever had that,” Dahlia whispered. “It sounds… nice. Blake? Are you mad at me?” Dahlia asked as Blake suddenly left the bed.

“No. I am angry with myself. I am not ready for this,” he said, storming through the adjoining door to his room and slamming it shut. He ignored her pounding at the door and the demands to talk to him, finding himself on the floor with his head buried in his arms. He cursed himself for his foolishness. He had set them both up for failure and he knew it.

Chapter Eight

Dahlia stared at the closed door and fought back the tears of anger. He had walked out on her. Just like everybody she had grown to care for. He was no better than any of the others! She felt herself overwhelmed, the desire to return to her old habit overpowering. Frantically, she searched the room for something she could use to bring herself pain… pain so she could allow herself to be lost in that glorious place of nothingness.

She cursed aloud. The room was barren of even so much as a writing utensil! Nothing sharp, nothing pointed. Rage struck her and Dahlia fled, wearing nothing more than a thin dress she had thrown over her head. She ignored the greetings of the staff and slaves as she raced blindly down the corridors toward the front of the house. She turned the corner and slammed directly into Ginger, the impact sending them both sprawling to the floor.

“
Dahlia? What’
s wrong? Hey, look at me!”

“Leave me alone! I need… to… leave…” Dahlia sobbed, unable to break free of Ginger
’
s grip on her arm.

“No running. Talk to me.”

“No more talking,” the girl cried. “I need to feel! Let me go.”

“Did Blake say something? Shit!” Ginger swore, drawing Dahlia into her arms. “You don
’
t need to hurt yourself anymore. You are going to be okay, honey. We will get you through this.”

“
I don’
t want anyone to help me. I just want to be alone.”

“No, you don
’
t. That is your fear talking. Let yourself cry. Go get Blake and tell him to move his ass!” Ginger commanded a slave as she still sat on the cold tile with Dahlia curled in her lap looking like a frightened little girl.

“
I don’
t want Blake. He walked out on me.”

“He did? What happened?”

“
I don’
t know. He was talking about intimacy and got mad and left. Ginger, I don
’
t know what I did wrong! I never know what I do to make everyone leave me.”

“He has not left you, baby. Sometimes we need to separate ourselves to get our thoughts in order. He cares deeply for you and…”

“He hates me! I
’
m too stupid and too selfish for someone like him and we both know it.”

“Dahlia, I need you to try to calm down so we can talk about this.”

“
I don’
t want to calm down. I want to scream and to…”

“You are not going to start stabbing yourself again. That is not an option,” Ginger said firmly. “If you need to feel, I can…”

“You will do nothing,” Blake
’
s low voice said from behind her. “This is my doing and I will handle her.”

Before Dahlia could protest, Blake had her scooped in his arms and his mouth over her lips. He sat on the couch and, without hesitation, turned her across his knee and began to cover her bottom with hard, exacting smacks using his open palm.

“
Blake, I don’
t think…”
Ginger intervened.

“Let me deal with this,” Blake growled. “Dahlia, can you hear me?”

“
Yessssss. Let me gooooo,
” she yelled, trying to escape the punishing blows of his hand.

“No. I am not letting you go. Ever. Don
’
t you understand?” he stated, smacking her with each word. “There is the risk that I might fall in love with you and you scare the hell out of me.”

“Nothing scares you!” she screamed angrily, pounding his leg with her fists as her bottom began to feel quite scorched.

“Losing you scares me and when I
’
m scared, I withdraw!” he growled back at her. “I run, just like you do, only I immerse myself in my happy, controlled environment. No more running, Dahlia! And no more hurting the people around us.”

“I
’
m not hurting anyone, you bastard! Let me go!” Dahlia yelled, true anger building within her. It confused her, this feeling. His lecture was forcing her to interact, preventing her from drifting into her headspace. She did not want to feel these emotions; they were too painful.