Sugar Dust (11 page)

Before she could disagree, he lowered his head to the skin between her neck and shoulder and bit down.

“Oh, God. Fuck.” Karen shook beneath the explosion of pain, her spread-legged stance robbing her of stability. Her hands shifted atop her head and only rigid discipline kept them there.

Sometimes pain was a punishment, a way to pay her back for being cheeky. At other times, like this, the pain ran alongside pleasure and turned simple sensations into a bewildering mix of heightened carnality. His rough fingertips captured her hips, steadying her. Ten points of electric contact against her skin squeezing and digging in deep When her knees buckled, Karen moaned a little thank you as he held her steady and stretched her neck until the back of her head touched the wall. It opened up her body to him, a physical demonstration of her desire to give him everything. Far too soon Dan released his grip. He licked the sore area then stepped back with a smug grin. Karen flopped against the wall panting. Her thoughts struggled to form, like wading through damp cotton wool.

“Pull your underwear up, Kaz.”

It took several tries to do so, with hands shaking like those of her arthritic grandmother. When done, she touched the side of her throat. “I only meant it wasn’t too sore, Sir.”

He shrugged. “I know.” One hand slipped into his pocket.

Seconds later, Karen felt the dull vibration of the bullet as it sprang to life inside her. She released a deep breath. A flutter of panic tightened her lungs. “You’re not going to leave that going all day, are you?”

“I might.”

“Fuck, I can’t—I can’t think. Please.”

“Maybe an hour or two.”

She moaned. No way could she endure an hour of torment, not after that bite. She’d come just from the pressure of anticipation. “But my transcripts,” she babbled. “If we’re away all weekend I need to do some work.”

Dan’s hand twitched in his pocket. The vibrations strengthened. Karen gave up on speaking. It was too hard, too much. Her neck throbbed. Her pussy clenched. One hand drifted toward her underwear.

“Hey!” Dan’s voice snapped her back. “You know the rules.”

“But that’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair.”

“Please! Just let me come once then I can do it. I can handle it then. Just once, please.” The shame of begging meant nothing. Not like this. She reveled in the degradation of it just as much as she savored the triumphant narrowing of Dan’s eyes. He had her and they both knew it.

“No. Now tell me the rules.”

Karen clenched her fists to keep them away from her aching groin. “No touching. No helping. No coming.”

“Good girl.”

The bullet clicked and became still. The sudden stillness made Karen’s legs buckle. She slid to the floor, knees drawn up to her chest. Eventually she managed to look up at Dan’s face. “Thank you, Sir.”

Dan tossed his head, winked, and returned to the sofa and his laptop. Karen watched him for a moment before climbing back into her jeans. As she fastened them, the bullet roared once more, a long, pulsing rhythm that made her groan and twist her hips. “Screw you,” she yelled.

“Later,” came the amused response.

Chapter Ten

As Dan parked the car, he heard a low moan from the passenger side. He looked and saw Karen slumped against her seat belt, eyes closed, forehead sweaty. Though she might have argued, Dan had never seen her more beautiful or more desirable. While the car clicked, rumbled, and cooled he stared at her face and longed to touch her, bury himself inside her in every way possible. Instead, he slapped her thigh hard enough to make her yelp. “Well done, Kaz. Take it out now.”

She moaned, turning a bleary eye toward him. “I still don’t get to come?”

The pitiful tilt of her downturned lips softened his intended response. “Not yet.”

“I hate you sometimes,” she whispered.

He nodded. “You’ll thank me later. Promise.”

Her fingers slipped beneath the shiny hem of her latex dress. He enjoyed the contrast of her dark skin against the white material as she fumbled around. Seconds later, she held up the remote controlled bullet, wet and gleaming. The musky scent of her frustrations filled the car and Dan breathed deep, filling his nostrils with the wonderful smell.

“Put it in there.”

Karen shoved the bullet into the glove compartment and composed herself with a series of slow breaths.

“Better?” he asked.

“I suppose.” Glowering, she clambered from the car and kicked the door shut.

Dan chuckled and when Karen walked around to open his door, the grin grew wider. He stroked her burning cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Karen,” he murmured, “my sweet, little Kitten. You’ll be okay. Before the night is out you’ll get to come.”

She whined. “But I need it now.”

He peered over his shoulder, casting a sweeping gaze left and right. The chance to further tease his slave presented itself in the form of a deserted car park. How could he resist?

“Now?” he whispered. “Here? In the street? I can do that.” With deft hands, he gripped her slender shoulders and spun her round. Her back pressed flat against his chest, and he stroked the slippery latex clinging to her skin. First her breasts, squeezing the firm globes before skimming down to the small dent of her bellybutton. He tickled her thighs beneath the hem of her dress. She jumped.

“I could,” he breathed in her ear, “and no one would think anything of it. Not here. I could hold you against the car.” He did, pushing her hands out to lie flat on the roof. Her cheek touched the metal and he watched the condensation of her breath mingle with the wisps of steam rising from the hot surface. She groaned.

“I could pull off your panties.” Dan released her hands and teased his way back under the dress. He could feel her thighs trembling. “Wait, you’re not wearing any.”

“You bloody took them!”

“I know.” Dan resisted the urge to check his pocket. He knew they were still there, damp and musky. “One less barrier.” He flipped the bottom of the dress over Karen’s high, round ass and tucked it in around her waist. Both hands stroked her exposed skin, watching the pattern of goose bumps prickling in the cool night air.
So fucking beautiful...

“It would only take a few minutes.” He thrust his hips against her. “Wouldn’t even have to pull my pants down all the way. A quick fuck.” When he nipped her ear, he heard a low growl rumble at the back of her throat.

Her instant responsiveness made him aware of a tightening across the front of his pants. He resisted the urge to adjust himself; wouldn’t do to let the submissive know that she was actually the one in charge.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you? A speedy shag against the side of my car in the middle of a public car park. You’re such a dirty girl.”

The loud slap of his hand against her ass cheeks made them both jump. The giddy thrill of power made Dan’s head spin. His breathing hitched, and he caught the scent of Karen’s arousal on his fingers again. It fired his blood as surely as any over the counter aphrodisiac.

“Do you still need to come? Now?” As his breathed the words into her ear, Dan walked his fingers over the curve of her bottom. Passed the top of her thighs and round the front to cup her pussy. So hot, so wet. He groaned. “You shaved?”

Karen humped his fingers. “Of course I did. It’s Sugar Dust.”

“I love it when you’re smooth down there. It’s so fucking sexy. You missed a bit though.”

“You try catching everything with a shitty lady-razor.”

“Don’t worry, it’s amazing.” Dan glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t move.”

The lights in the huge exclusive club made pools of yellow light on the tarmac. Though he heard the faint notes of music from within, he could hear no voices. See no people—perfect. He dropped to his knees behind Karen and pressed his nose against her backside. He rubbed his cheek against her lower one then nipped the fleshy underside of her ass. She gasped. He did it again. A third time. The fourth bite drew forth a strangled wail as he brought his teeth together and turned his head from side to side.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, made bold by her intense responses. “This mark proves you’re mine.”

Karen sounded like she might be having trouble breathing. “You don’t need a mark to prove that.”

He traced his finger along her trembling inner thigh. Thick, slippery wetness coated his fingers, a tangible reminder of the day she’d had. He licked it away. “You’ve been so good today. It
will
be worth it, little Kitten.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Ready?”

“Always.”

***

“Name, please?”

Dan blinked. He gazed at the receptionist as though seeing her for the first time, though distantly aware that she’d asked the same question three times. She wore a fishnet shirt under which her breasts were clearly visible. Strategic strips of black and red tape covered her nipples. Her make-up matched: bold red lipstick, black nail varnish and black shadow around her narrowed green eyes. “Sir? I have other people to serve tonight.”

“Scotney,” he said, glancing down at Karen. She looked at him, shifting on her knees and adjusting her hands which she clasped behind her back. The pose lifted her shoulders and thrust out her chest, making her breasts press against the latex. He could see her erect nipples poking through like pebbles. Fierce longing coursed through Dan’s body. He controlled it by pinching his arm and turning back to the glaring receptionist. “Daniel Scotney and Karen Owusu.”

“At last. Thank you.” The woman returned her attention to the computer screen and stabbed at the keyboard. “Room 12 is all ready for you. Key card.” She shoved a white, plastic rectangle across the desk. “Ground floor is the main hall and stalls. First floor is the Arena. Group scenes take place in sections A and B of the Arena. Individual scenes in section C only.” She paused long enough to crack her chewing gum. “Dungeons are downstairs. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he repeated.

The glare intensified. “Sir, you already have a companion. All the staff wear uniforms like this. If, for any reason, we find you acting inappropriately we’ll ask you to leave.”

Dan lifted his gaze to hers. Through the layers of makeup and beneath the tense expression she couldn’t be more than twenty years old. He considered pointing out that she wasn’t his type. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He retrieved the bags. “Come, Kitten.”

Karen leapt up and trotted after him, careful to keep two paces behind him at all times, arms still crossed behind her back. When he stepped through the double doors separating reception from the parlor, Dan heard a sharp gasp from Karen which matched his own.

“It looks like Moulin Rouge,” she whispered.

Had his vocabulary contained a better description, he might have argued. Red walls, the one directly ahead lined with black and white pictures. Some showed landscapes, others still life, but most of the ornate gold frames showed scenes from various BDSM activities. Floggings. Suspensions. Needle play. Wax play. Bondage. One near the bottom photographed a man lying beneath a woman calmly urinating on his face. He stared, winced, and looked away.

An usher in black garb noticed his reaction and paused, grinning. “We haven’t allowed water sports here for twelve years. Pity, a lot of people seem to like it.”

“I don’t.” Dan forced a note of calm into his voice that he didn’t really feel. Just seeing the image took him back to a small, dark room lined with hooks for whips and canes. A short figure walked around him, trailing the tail end of a flogger down his bare back. He shuddered.

The man shrugged and spoke again, breaking the spell of the memory. “Me neither, but to each his own, though, right?”

Nodding, Dan turned aside to continue his inspection. Opposite the main double doors, a wide staircase spiraled up to a mezzanine level. A balcony overlooked the entrance parlor. Back at ground level arches in the walls to the left and right led to other rooms. The free space on every wall held a tantalizing display of toys and tools. More than the décor, Dan noticed the people. Black, white, brown, pink, old, young, male, female, ambiguous, fat, skinny, tall, short. Not for the first time, he marveled at the wide array and enjoyed the fact that something so close to his heart remained open to anyone and everyone. Some distance behind him, Karen stood with her mouth open.

“You okay?” He watched her face.

“I had no idea it would be so big.”

“It’s the biggest event I’ve been to.”

“Don’t leave me. I don’t want to be by myself here.”

“Seriously?” He pulled her against him. “You’re not a nervous person.”

“It’s too big—I don’t know. Just don’t leave me. Please, Dan.”

The use of his name wiped the smile away. A fierce urge to protect her momentarily shouldered his awe to one side. “I won’t. You’re safe, I won’t leave you. You’re mine, remember? Only mine. No one will touch you unless I say so.”

A fraction of the stiffness left her back and shoulders. “Thank you.”

“Let’s find our room.” He turned, took a step, and collided with a short, chubby woman dressed in a floor length gown of slick black leather. Pale patches of flesh showed through holes cut in around her ribs, stomach, and legs.

The women stumbled in her platform heels and almost fell. Her arms flailed, but the man behind her caught her easily, even with his hands bound. He set her upright and glared through the narrow holes of his leather mask.

“Hey,” she snapped, “look where you’re going, fuckwit.”

That voice...
His knees buckled. He saw Karen staring at him, her eyes wide and round with confusion.
It can’t be her
, he begged silently.
Not here, not now.
Looking away from Karen he angled his gaze down to the source of that voice.
Shit.

Dan stumbled back a step as his weak knees threatened to dump him on the floor. He locked them straight, fighting to stay standing even as his stomach scrunched up like a Celtic knot. Every hair on his body stood out straight then tried to retreat back into his skin, leaving him shivering and twitchy. He stared at the new woman and shuddered. Green hair, braided and piled high on her head in thick, intricate swirls. Two slender braids framed her face. A riding crop and leather flog dangled from a loop on her left hip, knocking against her fingernails which were also green and an inch long, filed to a claw-like point. Even her lips glimmered green, a bright Day-Glo shade like a cartoon acid spill. The rest of her face looked ghostly white in comparison.