Mirror of My Soul (25 page)

Joey W. Hill

fingers took a firm grip on her bare cheeks. He looked at her eye to eye as she felt the delicious pressure of his cock.

“Did you miss me?”

“A little. When I was bored and had nothing else to think about.”

He caught the back of her head with one hand and took a nip at her bottom lip, made them part, his breath stroking her face. “Liar. Your cunt was wet for me all the way here. Your panties are soaked.”

“I was thinking about someone else.”

“Mm-hmm.” He covered her mouth with his, plunged deep. His hand held her

nape while his other slid farther into that wet area, fingering her, making her shudder.

“Tell me his name then. Say who you’re thinking about, who’s getting your pussy so slick. Say it.”

“Tyler,” she whispered softly in his mouth. He made a satisfied growl, moving his grip to her waist and pulling her further onto him, his fingers digging into her hips.

They’d made love, said the word “relationship”. She couldn’t help feeling sensual delight in the easy banter, the passion of newfound romance, the wild addictive quality it had. She’d never experienced anything like it before, knew she couldn’t trust or absorb it this fast, but he took over as he seemed to know how to do with her, leaving her with no footing and no anchor but him.

He pushed the skirt up to her waist, baring her lower body to the sunlight. Finding her bra strap, he unhooked it, his hands coming around to capture her breasts beneath the loosened cups. When he surged up, working his mouth down the side of her throat, the upward pressure on her breasts made them all the more visible to him in the scooped neck. He was going to have sex with her right here on his front porch. While the winding drive and high brick fence hid them from public view, it still added to her arousal to feel his desire to take her here, wherever he wished, on his territory.

She didn’t push him away as his mouth descended, took hold of her nipple through the cotton, suckled as he squeezed her buttocks. Her hips moved on him, wanting.

Wanting him now.

“Please…”

“Please what?” He nipped her sharply.

She gasped, tightening her hands on his shoulders. “Please, Master. Take me here.

On the stairs. I need you. Now.”

Tyler realized he hadn’t meant to make the demand, but her immediate response

punched him low in the gut as he saw she hadn’t expected herself to respond as naturally as she had. Or as immediately.

“Soon.” He cradled her face, kissed her mouth hard again. “I’ll fuck you, angel, make love to you, make you scream when you come. But first I have a gift for you. I’ve been counting the minutes until you got here so I could give it to you.”

126

Mirror of My Soul

He refastened her bra for her, lifted her off him and straightened her skirt, as if unaware of her mutinous look. As he got to his feet, Marguerite deliberately trailed her fingers over him, a light scrape of her nails on his turgid cock, straining against his pants. Catching her hand, he pulled her to him. “Behave,” he reproved. But he gave her a tender kiss on her nose that surprised her, though it barely distracted her from the throb of her body.

What had happened to her infamous control? But she knew. A sub didn’t have to

have control around her Master. Only within his demands. She was quite literally a switch when she was with him, all of her compulsions commensurate with a

submissive’s behavior, as strong in her as the Mistress when she stood over a different type of man.

“So how was your day? What did you do?”

He opened the door for her, guided her in with a hand at the small of her back.

Behaving like the perfect gentleman while she had to clench her fingers into fists to keep from slapping him. Or jumping him.

“We had a large afternoon crowd,” she said at last. “Chloe tried her hand at a poppy seed cake that was gone in no time.”

“I assume you brought me a piece.”

“With paying customers willing to put down six dollars a slice? You’re going to have charm her into baking you one. On her own time.”

Her tone was cool and Tyler knew she was getting back at him. He grinned,

recognizing the challenging light in her eye. The sexy pout of those soft lips had his lust rising to the point he had to stifle a groan.

“Mercenary.”

“Fiscally responsible,” she returned. He saw he’d restored her good humor with his teasing. He squeezed her hand.

“I love it when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Really smile.”

She raised her hand to her lips, startled. It amazed him that she wasn’t aware of it, that she needed tactile experience to believe it. He touched her face, hurting for her and loving her at once. To keep it from becoming too serious, he curled a lock of her hair around his fingers. “And what if I have to offer Chloe sexual favors to wrest a cake out of her?”

Marguerite raised a brow. “Are you trying to make me jealous?”

“Are you jealous at the thought?”

She considered it. “I don’t… I guess I haven’t gotten as far as to think I have the right to be possessive with you.”

127

Joey W. Hill

Raising her hand, he kissed it and bit her knuckles with sharp pressure, watching her eyes focus on the mark of his teeth into her skin, pain offered as a pleasure. “You have every right to be possessive. Because I sure as hell consider you mine.”

“Well, there goes the affair I’d planned with half the men in the neighborhood.

Tyler…”

“I’ll ease up,” he promised. “Come on out to the back. Your present is there.”

“Where are Mac and Violet?”

“Out back as well. I have a pool here, too. They’re taking a swim before dinner.”

He took her down the hallway, past an opulent dining room set for seven, through the sunroom and out a covered walkway flanked by blooming gardenia bushes. The walkway led to the enclosed pool area which currently had all the windows open to allow the fresh air.

As they stepped in, a man was coming out of the pool. She registered that there were three other people in there with him, but could not immediately focus on anyone else as her senses were abruptly inundated with him. He was the type of submissive that always called to her. In his late twenties, with green eyes like sea glass, his streaked chestnut hair to mid-shoulders, his lips soft, curved pleasantly. The upper torso was well-muscled, a lean, taut body. He was completely naked, obvious as he walked up the steps at the shallow end, hand on the rail, water sluicing down his flat stomach over the groin area and long thighs.

“Marguerite.” Tyler nodded as the man approached. “This is Roland. It’s his

pleasure to serve you this weekend in whatever manner you wish. He works at True Blue, but volunteered to spend the weekend with us because he enjoys the company of strong Mistresses.” He looked into her amazed face. “I give him to you, as your Master.

You have my permission to enjoy him fully in my company.”

She met his gaze. “Not alone.”

He shook his head. “I am possessive,” he reminded her, his gaze sweeping over her.

“And I love watching you as a Mistress.”

He moved his touch up to her neck, caressing her, murmured in her ear so only she could hear him. “As your Master, I’d like to see you top him. Indulge yourself as you desire and let’s see how it goes. I never shared Nina with another man, wouldn’t countenance it. But this is different. I know the compulsion that drives you to be a Mistress, just as I know that your soul is mine. As mine is yours,” he added quietly.

Marguerite reflected that it felt odd to be here as Mistress and slave both, primarily because it did not feel odd at all. Her mind was swirling with ideas already. Only this time, it was with the things she would do to bring Roland pleasure while Tyler watched. She imagined his eyes on her as she moved her hands over another man’s flesh, as her fingers closed over Roland’s even now thickening cock.

Tyler wrapped his hands in her hair, drew her head back to suckle her throat as she studied her gift. Reaching out to Roland, she drew him to her, desire sweeping her hard at the feel of one man possessing her while she sought to possess another herself.

128

Mirror of My Soul

Roland stepped closer, his green eyes respectful but avid. She could feel his desire to serve, to be commanded, emanating off him like heat.

She’d heard wives lament their husband’s inability to pick out just the right gift, even when signs and clues were practically mapped out in front of them. Tyler had known exactly what she most appreciated. The beautiful purity of Roland’s features, the eyes that had that seeking quality, the quality a Mistress cherished. While she could tell this man did not have as many personal demons as the type of submissive she usually chose, the very fact he seemed more balanced complemented the social tone of this weekend. As always, Tyler had chosen thoughtfully.

When Tyler released her, she remained very cognizant of his whereabouts as he

withdrew to take a seat in one of the pool side chairs, his hands on the arms, long legs stretched out before him. She ran a hand down Roland’s chest and his eyes lowered, acknowledging her acceptance, submitting to her authority. She felt the surge of power and stillness at once, a drug she always harvested for such interactions, but now there was a new ingredient, one that made heat climb up inside her and set her imagination on fire.

“Roland, the first thing I want to do is take my afternoon tea. You will be my table.

Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress. It would be my honor.”

“I’m not very graceful. I may spill a drop or two, here or there.” She moved around him, trailing her fingertips along his back, down to the upper curve of his buttocks. And wondrous buttocks they were. “Can you be still and not upset my cup? I’d like to use my fine china, but if I must I will use a plastic set.”

“I’ll not move a muscle, Mistress,” he promised.

“Oh, I’d like to see your muscles move. I’d like them to hold a plug while I take my tea. Vibrate deep inside you, massage you until you’re fit to burst. Can you come without upsetting my tea?”

“I won’t come.” He smiled, confident, but his eyes were shifting, thinking. Not as certain. “Unless Mistress commands it.”

“We’ll see about that.”

As she circled Roland, she examined her immediate surroundings. There was a

comfortable wicker arrangement near the pool, wingback seats with deep cushions, a style of chair where it would be comfortable to perch, ladylike, while she enjoyed tea on her “table”. She suspected that the chairs were for Tyler’s female guests, while the nearby loungers would attract the more sprawling nature of the males. With his propensity and preference for being outside near his gardens, she could well imagine him there, one long leg braced on the ground on either side of the lounger as he studied a script or did paperwork.

She remembered then that there were three others in the pool and got the second shock of the evening when she turned to make the appropriate courtesies. Violet was 129

Joey W. Hill

sitting on the edge of the pool, Mac still in the water, his arms crossed and propped on the edge. Her foot and calf rested on his shoulder as they watched the goings-on.

The other person in the pool was Leila.

The surge of emotion she felt at the sight of her, naked like Roland as befitted a submissive’s status, gave her an answer to Tyler’s earlier question. She
could
feel jealousy. Why on earth was she here? Certainly he wasn’t going to entertain himself with Leila while she exercised her Mistress craving on Roland. While she recognized it logically as a double standard, emotionally it wasn’t. Tyler was acting as her Master, facilitating her interaction with Roland, a submissive. Roland was like the other subs she’d taken. Two hours of play, no commitment beyond that. Tyler and Leila had a history, a genuine bond of affection based in sex and shared experiences. And as Leila came out of the end of the pool to take a seat near Violet, Marguerite further observed that no woman should be that well-endowed.

Did that mean he preferred women with bigger breasts? Come to think of it, many of the women he’d chosen as submissives had been blessed in that regard.

Stop it.
She was appalled at herself and gathered her dignity up with both hands.

She wasn’t like any of the women he’d chosen in the past. Any more than he was like the men she’d chosen. But they’d chosen each other.

Marguerite forced her attention back to Roland. “Move the center table to the side of the sofa,” she ordered. When he complied, his muscles shifted along his back, buttocks flexing as he turned.

“Now on all fours,” she said softly. “Where the table was.”

He moved to obey, those same well-toned muscles rippling in his thighs and across his obliques as he knelt before her, then went to all fours. He surprised her by making an unexpected dip, brushing her foot with his lips.

“It is an honor to serve you, Mistress. Your reputation precedes you.”

She moved to the sofa, bade him lift up and put a cushion under his knees and

another under his hands, leveling the surface appropriately and giving him comfort for a prolonged position.

“I’m going to go change,” she said, caressing the back of one thigh. Reaching up, she fondled the free-hanging testicles, easing a hand between his buttocks and earning a slight shift, a further hardening of his cock. “And I’ll find the appropriate plug to keep you struggling not to come while I take my tea. While I’m gone, I want you to practice holding my table steady.” She picked up a flower basket arrangement from the side table and put it in the center of his back. Watched him get still, focused.

She moved her attention to Tyler, decided to grab the awkward bull by the horns.

“May I make use of your slave, Master Tyler?”

Tyler looked startled. The sound of footsteps approaching made Marguerite look away from him to see a handsome man of Latino descent with dark eyes and sleek hair enter the pool area from the garden. When his attention went immediately to Leila, the woman lowered her gaze, cheeks pinkening at the attention.