Velvet Submission (6 page)

"Would you like something to drink?" Her voice brought goose bumps to his flesh and the sensory memory of her body pressed to his as they danced.

"No, thank you, Mistress. I am not thirsty." No, what he wanted couldn't be found in the small wet-bar by the door. What he wanted was the stroke of her hand on his bare skin. The taste of her on his tongue.

She sat in on a soft suede couch, crossing her long legs with a soft whisper of silk hose. She was wearing pink again tonight, a pale, icy shade that made her look like a porcelain doll. Perched on that white suede couch, golden hair tumbling around her shoulders, eyes blue and mysterious, she was once again his goddess. And he was desperate to serve her.

She picked up a timer from the small occasional table next to the couch, and arched her brow meaningfully at him. Gregori drew in a breath and lowered his eyes. He heard a soft clicking sound, then the quiet tick of the timer.

"I do believe twenty minutes should do," she murmured in that slow, sweet drawl.

Gregori sat silently awaiting her pleasure as the minutes ticked away. He dared a glance at her and ground his teeth in frustration. She was reading a freaking magazine, cool as ice. As the timer ticked down, a dread began to grow in his chest. He'd wondered at her sudden change of heart, but had wanted her too badly to question her actions. Hope slowly bled into anger as he finally accepted the truth. She'd snagged him from the clutches of Mistress Anne, but had no intention of using him in any manner herself.

"Megan." She folded down one side of the magazine and gave him a level look.

"I don't recall giving you permission to speak." For once the honeyed accent didn't send the blood flooding to his dick. This time the blood pounded in his temples as his temper flared. Still, he kept his voice calm.

"Why am I here, Megan?"

Those big blue eyes flickered, and she hesitated for a long moment before lowering her magazine.

"I couldn't let her hurt you," she finally muttered, refusing to meet his eyes.

He knew his brows practically hit his hairline at her answer. Shaking his head slowly, he responded. "I am here to be hurt, Megan. That is one of the things I look for in a Domme."

"No," her eyes touched his, then began to roam the room. "I couldn't let her hurt you. She causes pain beyond the physical. I couldn't let her do that to you."

"I am not a toy to be fought over by two spoiled children," he finally said, grimly satisfied when her eyelids flinched in reaction. "If you truly do not want me, you may not interfere with someone who does." He rose from the small bench, every atom of his being screaming for him to stay, to fight for what he wanted.

What was wrong with the woman? He was hers, hers to do with as she would. And she wanted him, too. That had been clear from their very first encounter. Hell, she had admitted it. Yet, out of some twisted determination to stay in control, she denied them both.

The timer dinged, shattering the silence that had once more fallen between them.

"Time's up," he said slowly. Her eyes met his again and this time she didn't break their gaze. "You have no other use for me, so I will bid you good night."

"Sit down, Sugar." The sudden command went straight to Gregori's dick. He liked it.

"No." He kept his voice polite, almost deferential, and he could tell it took a moment for his blunt denial to register. When her eyes widened in comprehension, he added, "I have no wish to spend my night off sitting on a bench and watching you read. You have no other use for me," he let his voice go hard, let his anger show through the polite tone. "So I will bid you good night."

An eyebrow arched as she put the magazine on the table and rose to her full height. She sauntered over to where he stood. "I don't have sex with my submissives, sugar."

"So you've said, Megan." He let the eye contact spin out, looking down at her with deliberate insolence. "Many, many times."

She drew a finger down his chest, bared by his open shirt. "So
this
is your choice?" She gestured to the room and its apparatus.

"I choose you, Megan. However you will have me."

Those blue, blue eyes flared, lit like a flame from within.

Chapter Five

"In that case, sugar, I haven't given you permission to use my name." She stepped closer, crowding him with her body. His reacted blindly, stupidly, his dick going hard in a rush. "And," she continued, letting her nail scrape perilously close to his nipple, "I haven't given you permission to stand." She took the final step that pressed her body against his, chest to thighs, and a full body shiver of relief slid from his scalp to his toes. She tapped her index finger against his chest, harder with each word until the nail pressed painfully against his skin, driving him backwards. "So. Sit. Down. Now."

He sat but didn't take his eyes from her face. It was a direct show of defiance, one that he was hoping would pay off.

Her luscious ass swayed as she walked across the room. She stood in front of a large cabinet for a long time, deliberating over the contents before removing several items. Gregori was dying to know what she had planned for him; his dick throbbed relentlessly along with the beat of his heart. Sauntering back, she laid her toys on the bench next to him.

Two cock rings that looked far too small. A baby blue butt plug that looked far too big. A flogger. A crop.

"Stand up and remove your clothes, sugar." Her words snapped his attention firmly back where it belonged: on her. Gregori stood slowly and shrugged his shirt over his shoulders. He couldn't entirely hide his smile when her breath caught at the sight of his chest, and her narrowed eyes showed that she wasn't happy he'd seen her reaction. He dropped his hands to his fly and popped each button open with deliberate slowness. Pulling the sides of his jeans away from his body, he slid his fingers inside and leisurely pushed the worn denim down his legs.

Her eyes widened a fraction as they roamed over his naked form, zeroing in on his rigid cock. Her audible swallow only added to his pleasure.

"Spread you legs." That slow, lazy drawl had gone husky with want. He moved his feet wide. "Arms up and behind your head, Sug." He laced his hands behind his head willingly. Her eyes coasted over him like a caress. In their depths, he found the knowledge that she liked what she saw. He was hers, displayed before her, his dick hard, his body ready for whatever she had in store for him.

Her delicate hand grabbed an item off the bench. Gregori moaned when she brought up the cock rings. She took each one into her mouth, wetting the tight rubber circles with her pink tongue. Fuck, but he wanted to feel that mouth on him. Pulling one ring from between her pink lips she grasped his cock with one hand, wrapping her fingers tightly around his girth. With the other she rolled the ring down his length, Gregori knew he was larger than average and the ring was made for a smaller member. The fit was painfully tight, and it sent shivers of heat down his spine. Her nails slowly moved back up the length of his shaft. They were natural and not overly long but felt exquisitely sharp against his violently sensitive dick. Gregori closed his eyes against the sight and gave in to the bliss of her nails dragging lightly along his hard flesh.

When she reached the tip she placed the other ring under his crown; the fit was tighter still. It dragged a groan from him, the combination of pleasure and pain. Megan's eyes, Megan's hands, the cold, unyielding rubber of the rings. He opened his eyes and looked down. The ring dug dramatically into the ruddy skin of his cock, the pale blue color a striking contrast to the nearly purple crown, which was weeping pre-cum.

"Very good, Sug. Now stand behind the chair and bend over."

*

Megan licked her lips as Gregori followed her instructions and bent over the low-backed chair she'd indicated. He presented himself like an experienced sub would, bent at the waist, his thighs spread, his wide back arched. He was a living art exhibit of the beauty of the male form, and Megan wanted him. She took a deep breath to steady herself. She was going to teach him a lesson for his breach in manners, and damned if she wasn't going to punish him for making her want something she couldn't have.

She picked up the crop and moved in front of him, resting one knee on the seat of the chair. He kept his eyes down now, finally, but that gorgeous back flexed as he took a deep breath. She wondered if he was scenting her, drinking in her arousal. The thought sent a surge of heat through her, and that just pissed her off even more. Placing the tip of the crop under his chin, she raised his face.

"You're much too experienced, Sug, to have so blatantly broken the rules and attempted to leave me before I dismissed you."

"If you do not intend to use me, I am not required to stay." His words were bold, but his breathing was labored. He couldn't hide his excitement from Megan if he tried.

"That may be true, but you also didn't say your safe word. That is the only way to free yourself from my company."

"You did not give me one."

That was true, she realized. She hadn't given him one because she'd had no intention of using him.

"All right, then, Sugar. What is you safe word?"

His lips crooked up in a slight smile, and she felt her anger flare. "I leave that up to you, my Mistress." Gregori was taking pleasure in disrespecting her, in pushing her. The big, gorgeous Russian bastard was trying to top her from the bottom.

"Fine," she snapped. "Your safe word is
no
." Simple enough and before this night was through he would be screaming it to the rafters. Megan was furious, with Gregori, but more so with herself. She did not mix sex and her activities as a Domme, and she was beyond pissed that Gregori was forcing her in that direction. But she was even angrier with herself because she was letting him.

She thought, again, of the way Gregori described being Dommed, of trust and surrender. For her, that's what lovemaking was; a complete surrender of control, losing yourself in another person. The exact opposite of what she wanted when in her Mistress Megan persona.

The iron control her father had wielded over her for the first half of her life had been almost more than she could bear. Megan loved her daddy with all her heart, and she knew all his demands on her had been out of love. That hadn't kept her from feeling suffocated by his expectations. Beauregard Jamison had seen his actions as protecting his baby girl. Megan never had seen it as anything more than Daddy controlling her.

Shaking her head, she moved back to the bench to retrieve the plug and a bottle of lube. Facing him again she held up the device, "Can you take this, Sug?"

His silver eyes took in the plug, closed, and then opened again. "Baby blue. You expect to fuck me with a
baby blue
plug."

"I wasn't asking about the color, darlin'. I was asking about the size. It's not for a beginner. Can you take it?" She had no doubt he could, but she needed to make sure. Gregori might have craved pain at her hands, but she doubted he craved actual damage.

Those burning silver eyes narrowed, but all he said was, "It's blue."

"I don't hear you saying no, Sug." She waited, but his lips remained clamped together. Megan smiled and moved behind him.

"Open yourself up for me." Megan bit back a moan of appreciation as his large hands grasped his muscled cheeks and pulled them apart. She tipped the bottle of lube, and let a slow stream out to pool in the tempting little dent right at the top of his cheeks. He stayed perfectly still, but his skin prickled, the tiny, silky hair standing on end.

She placed her finger in the lube and drew it down to his tight hole. The muscles of his thighs went tight as she skimmed over the tightly furled entrance, skimming along his crack to gather up more lube and tease sensitive nerve endings. Moving back down, she rimmed the tight ring with her finger, applying more lube and slowly working the tip just inside of him. His knuckles went white as his fingers dug into his muscular cheeks. He shifted back, toward her hand, and she probed the tiniest bit deeper. She didn't breach the tight muscle there, instead she pulled out and slowly lubed up the plug.

Waiting was just as much a punishment as any taste of the whip, and Megan was determined to punish Gregori. So she took her time, wiping her hands on a soft cloth, watching the shift and flex of his muscles under all that gorgeous pale golden skin, drinking in his tension and anticipation.

Finally, the desire to see him arching that broad back in an agony of pleasure was too much for her to resist. She placed the well-lubricated tip of the plug against his opening, and settled it firmly in place.

"Breathe into it, Sug, and push back for me." He made a low sound and pressed back, taking the tip past the tough ring of muscles guarding his entrance. Taking her time to draw out the burn, Megan twisted the plug in a circle then pushed more. Gregori let out a long guttural moan as she forced him to stretch and open, finally seating it fully home.

She stepped back and wiped her hands again. He made a beautiful sight, bent over and filled up, awaiting her pleasure. His thighs were tight, his back expanded roughly with his ragged breaths and she knew he was waiting for her next move. She'd seen it before with many of her subs. A man could find great pleasure in being filled; it didn't matter if he was gay or straight. The sensitive nerve endings and that special spot deep inside of him guaranteed an orgasm that would rock his world. It was the rare and confident man who would admit he wanted, needed that kind of pleasure without thinking it meant there was something defective about him.

Megan seized her flogger. She trailed the ends over the small of his back, and goose bumps rose on his flesh.

"Tell me how it feels," she murmured, trailing the tails of the flogger lightly up the line of his spine. He shivered in response.

"It burns." His voice was deeper, almost guttural; his accent more pronounced than she'd ever heard it.

"You enjoy the pain." It wasn't a question.

"Yes Mistress, I like the pain." Megan shivered. Every time he said Mistress in his deep, slightly accented voice she felt it deep between her thighs, deep in her core.