Second Time Lucky (Club Decadence Book 5) (24 page)

“Try again, slave, respectfully this time.”

“Please, Mistress, if it is your wish for this slave to come, he will do his best to make it so.”

Her nose wrinkled at the use of the third person—whatever.

“Stop,” Mara barked. “Release your sub and climb on the bed on all fours.” As she waited for him to comply, she went to the table and picked up the lube, feeling his avid stare, she turned and approached the bed, commanding, “Face front.” For good measure, and since he obviously enjoyed the tawse immensely, she applied it quickly in four sharp strokes. When she was done, she moved to stand in front of him.

“Do you want a taste of your Mistress’s cock?”

His eyes practically bugged out with eagerness. “Yes, Mistress, I want to take it deep in my mouth.” Abruptly, he lunged forward, lips parted in readiness and engulfed the length.

“No!” Mara’s palm smacked against his forehead, pushing him off as he practically lunged at her. “Bad slave. It is for me to decide how you are used.” Another line she’d heard at the club. “You may tongue the head, and only the head. Make it nice and wet because this huge cock is going to fill your ass in a minute.”

“Yes… Thank you.” He lapped, licked and laved the big head with gusto.

While his busy tongue performed its task, she handed Shelby the K-y tube and motioned her for her to use it on her Dom. Without hesitation, the biddable sub squirted a big glob in his crack and began to work it all around and in and out with her fingers.

Mara stepped back, depriving John of his play pretty. He whimpered.

“I think I am in the mood to give Shelby a treat. She has been a very good girl. Would you like to use your Dom’s ass for a change, girl?”

“Oh, yes, Mistress, thank you. I’d like that a lot.”

Mara released the straps of the harness and passed it into Shelby’s eager outstretched hands. John grumbled in complaint. Mara grabbed what hair she could in her fist and pulled his head back, not harshly, she really didn’t want to hurt him, even if he wanted the pain, but she made it believable. “Complaining? What if I don’t let you come at all tonight, slave boy?”

“No, Mistress, I’m sorry.”

“Who is in charge here?”

“You are Mistress.”

“That’s right. Your Mistress decides who comes and who does not. It’s up to me who fucks and gets fucked including how, when and with what. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Use his ass, Shelby.”

Without pause, she slid in up to the hilt after only two or three thrusts. Mara was impressed that John could take such a large dick—and couldn’t help a wince in sympathy—as Shelby robustly complied with her orders. John’s constant groans told of his satisfaction while Shelby seemed to be taking an extraordinary amount of glee in her task, riding him like a bronc at a bull-riding contest, and she determined to come out the winner. It was her fantasy to be topped by a dominant couple, but she seemed to have tapped into her inner Domme or was enjoying a bit of revenge for the cherry red ass John had given her earlier with a leather paddle. Both appeared to be getting exactly what they wanted. This was their fantasy, after all, and they’d paid dearly for it.

And Victor, he was getting his twenty grand. It was a win-win all around. The only one not getting any enjoyment from this kinky scene was Mara.

A beeping noise in the background signaled five minutes left in their session, thank god. Two hours of this was as much as she could take.

“Almost there, slave?”

“Yes, Mistress. Please may I come?”

With one more requirement to be met, she offered, “Would you like to come down your sub’s throat while I whip your ass?”

“God, yes, Mistress.”

Mara nodded at Shelby, who dismounted and wiggled between his thighs. She appeared to take joy in every depraved command Mara gave her. Amazed, she watched as Shelby voraciously swallowed him down without gagging.

John, who was moaning his pleasure, had forgotten her earlier lecture on who was in charge and decided to direct the scene. “Lash me while I come, Mistress, please. I crave your discipline.”

Knowing it was almost done, Mara didn’t much care and laid the strap crisply across his upraised ass. The crack of the leather was drowned out by John’s groans as he came with only two or three strokes into Shelby’s willing mouth.

Aftercare was not on the list, so Mara ended it.

“Very good, my slave and sub, you have the room for a few more minutes to comfort each other as you see fit. You have both pleased your Mistress, commendably.”

After spewing the words ala Mistress Anne, Mara dashed out.

Rushing into the other room of the suite, she slammed the door, gulping in breaths of air in hopes of easing her nausea. Not that she had a problem with either man or woman seeking out their own unique desires, but she had no wish to be a part of it, especially when by doing so, she’d become an adulteress in her own eyes. Sean would agree no doubt. How deep would she dig her pit of lies and deception?

A slow clap had her whirling around, scanning the room. She located Victor lounging on a couch against the far wall without a care, grinning broadly at her.

“
Bravo, hermosa
. You have missed your true calling.”

Crude words came to her lips, but she bit them back. She’d pushed him enough and didn’t want to risk a black eye or a split lip, his usual response when she told him to go fuck himself years ago. How would she explain that to Sean? She couldn’t bear seeing his smarmy smile any longer and dropped her gaze. It landed on his expensive presumably designer shoes, heedlessly propped on the gleaming and costly looking wood. A splash of color caught her eye. There, along with the jump drive, was the last incriminating photo he’d held over her head. Rushing across the room, she snatched it up before he changed his mind.

“As promised, the rest of the evidence from your years in D.C. Are you sure you don’t want to hang onto one or two for posterity?” He chuckled.

Mara ignored him, rushing into the bathroom to change, taking the evidence with her. Hoping never to see it again, she left the hated leatherwear in a pile on the floor and went out to grab the rest of her things, ready to leave Victor and his new enterprise behind.

“So, next Friday, same time? I have another client requesting your brand of discipline, Mistress Tamara.”

Mara froze with her hand on the doorknob. Whirling, she rushed back to him holding out her hand. “Lying son of a bitch,” she hissed at his hateful face. “Give me the rest of them. We had a deal.”

“I didn’t lie,
querida
. I gave you all of the photos I had from your working days in D.C.”

“Then I’ll see you in hell before I ever do that for you again. Stay out of my life.” She spun and flew back to the door.

“
Uno momento, pequena fuego
, there’s the new video to discuss.” His words, burning like a brand against her back, stopped her dead in her tracks. “
Si,
Judge Jenkins, or slave boy John as you so charmingly called him as you flogged him with your lash, is a very powerful man. I can use that power to my advantage, that’s why tonight, we made a nice little video of his depravity. Come back on Friday for another session, this time with the Chief of Police who evidently likes metal things wrapped around his cock and balls for some odd reason.” He shuddered, then shook his head. “Far be it from me to judge how another man gets his rocks off, it’s my job to supply what he needs to do so, and you, my new favorite dominatrix, will be perfect. Of course, if you’d rather I post these on YouTube, that’s your choice.”

“I hate you,” Mara whispered, loathing dripping from her each word.

“Unfortunate, but I really don’t care. It’s business,
hermosa.
”

She should have known better than to trust him. Her mind reeled as she searched for options when his use of the word business gave her a thought.

“You’re bluffing. You wouldn’t post your extortion pics online. You’d lose your leverage with the Judge.”

“True.” He shrugged. “So not the internet, but a special delivery to soldier boy, instead.”

“No, he’d come after you and shut your sick extortion games down. Either way you lose.”

“As do you, Tamara dear. Either way you lose your precious Sean. So sad to be damned if you do and damned if you don’t.” Slowly he dropped his feet to the floor and stood. As he straightened his jacket and tie, he made himself clear. “You will do as I say, when I say. If that means shoving a foot long cock up some other poor saps ass or strapping him until he’s red and raw, so be it. Or the Sergeant learns all.
Comprende
?”

She could feel the blood drain from her face. He’d tricked her, but was she really surprised? She knew him and that was the risk in dealing with his kind. Out of ideas her shoulders slumped. What an idiot she was. Now her situation had gone from bad to worse. Instead of being guilty for something long in her past, he had new evidence that Mrs. Sean O’Brien was a whore. Feeling sick, she turned to the door, desperately needing to get out of there, to go somewhere and think.

“One other thing, don’t expect that all of your clients are going to pay ten grand without getting a taste of their Mistress’s pussy, having her do the actual fucking or being fucked in return. Friday, I expect you to be prepared to give it your all, so to speak. The chief will expect no less.” He smirked, openly enjoying his twisted game. He’d always said he got a thrill out of controlling his girls and with her going along with his plan tonight, that’s what she’d done, become one of Victor’s girls again. Lurching for the door, in a haze of pain and humiliation, she opened it and stumbled out into the hall.

“I’ll see you Friday, Mistress Tamara.” The door shut with a bang on his parting words and more of his diabolical laughter. Numb, Mara shuffled to the elevator and somehow made her way out of the hotel without falling apart.

Chapter Sixteen

Bourbon splashed the cream-colored walls as a shower of glass sprayed across the library table and onto the taupe colored carpeting beneath it.

The violent act didn’t lessen Sean’s pain one bit.

“Find her,” he rasped to Jonas who watched him calmly from his computer. Their communications man on the team, he was also a skilled hacker. If information about Mara’s whereabouts was out there in digital form, Jonas could find it. If she had an electronic presence, used credit cards, sent an email or had her iPhone in her possession, Jonas would be able to pinpoint that too.

He tunneled his fingers through his hair in frustration. “It’s been a fucking week, man, and not a blip since she withdrew money at the Thousand Oaks ATM.”

Cap appeared in the doorway. “Sean?”

That’s all he said. His former captain was asking if he needed locking down. He didn’t, although it was a close thing and had been ever since he’d come home from his mission on Sunday and found Mara’s note. He’d read it so many times, searching for a clue as to what had gone wrong it was committed to memory.

Sean,

I made a mistake and want out. I’m sorry for ending it this way, but it’s best not to let it drag on. I’ve taken only what is mine and $1000 out of savings to cover the cost of an attorney for the divorce.

Please, don’t look for me. Just move on quickly. Forget about me. It’s better for us both if you do.

Mara

The word divorce had pierced his heart like a dagger and he was still bleeding from the wound.

Dex came up behind Cap and peered in. Between the three men in the office, they could easily take him down and if necessary, lock him down in the holding room in the back of the Rossi suites. He shook his head, though.

“I’m on edge, but in control.” He glowered at the mess he’d made of Jonas’ office. “Sorry for the broken glass, Tech.”

“No problem, bud. I don’t blame you for needing to release some anger. So you don’t have any other clues, besides the note?”

“No arguments, strange behavior, nothing?” Dex probed. The questions had been posed at least a hundred times in as many ways in the past week. Sean couldn’t come up with anything that would have set Mara off and made her do something this drastic.

“She was worried about my job, but not enough to leave. We didn’t even argue about it. She was happy, or so I thought.”

“Regan said she’s been on edge lately. Ever since the opening,” Rick who had joined them added. “What about your lifestyle? Was it a problem for her?”

“No. I’d have known if it was.” Because she was still fairly new to it all, Sean had asked himself the same question a million times, always discarding it as the reason. She was into it. The way she liquefied in his hands hadn’t been his imagination. “I’m missing something. It has to do with the night she was supposed to work extra.”

“We found out that wasn’t true, Sean,” Cap corrected softly.

“That’s what I mean. She lied to me. I have no idea why, or where she went that night, or what she did.” He paced, his agitation evident as he did so. “I need to find out what happened.”

“I’ll keep searching,” Jonas offered.

“As will we all,” Dex assured, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Hang in there, man. Like it or not, we’ll get you some answers.” This came from Cap, who sounded confident, but the expression on his face, as did the grim looks of the rest of his friends, said they weren’t so sure.

“Fuck me,” Sean uttered roughly as he left the room.

Chapter Seventeen

One year later…

Karma, as they say, is a bitch. This was one of the odd thoughts running through Mara’s brain as she squeezed the Ambu bag, forcing oxygen into the boy’s near lifeless body. Her eyes cut to Lexie Berry, a nurse practitioner who she’d worked with at the hospital for nearly a year. She was the same Lexie who worked as a volunteer with Joanna Davis at a women’s shelter back in D.C. How’s that for Karma?

Mara continued to help the boy breathe, squeezing the bag twelve times a minute as Lexie worked furiously on the gushing bullet wound in his chest. Her face, set in extreme concentration, was grim. Always optimistic, Lexie didn’t get grim, but if ever there was a reason to, the man standing behind her pointing a gun at her head was it.