Make Me, Sir
Page 13

“I didn’t ask your opinion.” His steady gaze pierced her. Then his lips quirked up. “You act nervous as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs.”
With good reason, dammit.
At the foot of the table, he set her feet into the stirrups. When he strapped her ankles in, her eyes widened. Her gynecologist never did that. Oh, this isn’t good.
After pushing her skirt up to expose her lower half, he slid her down the smooth leather until her butt rested on the edge of the table. A wide strap across her body just below her breasts pinned her arms to her sides. Then he secured another one across her waist and nodded. “That looks just fine.”
Just fine? She wiggled, and as the full realization of her helplessness zinged through her, a thin sweat broke out on her body. She couldn’t lift her arms, and her dread rose with each thwarted movement.
Arms folded, he watched her struggle. “Gabrielle.” He spoke just the one word, his voice deep, breaking her out of the panic.
She looked into his steady eyes. He was utterly self-confident. Controlled. Dominant. A weird, glowy feeling lit inside her like a candle, melting her fears.
And heating her instead. She tried to close her legs, testing the restraints without success. Her pussy was completely exposed, and he’d be putting those lean, powerful hands on her most private parts. Oh God. More heat poured into her as if the candle had set something aflame.
He smiled and said softly, “There we go.”
A metal stand held a bowl of water, razors, and bottles. After pushing it to the foot of the table, Marcus sat on a rolling stool and stationed himself between her legs. With a tsking sound, he pushed the stirrups father apart, opening her completely.
She stiffened, unnerved at the way he’d repositioned her. Not asking, just doing. He’d do to her just as he pleased. Excitement tingled across her skin, and she felt her nipples bunching so tightly they hurt.
The hum of conversation drew her attention to where people stood in the hallway, looking through the huge windows. At her. At her exposed pussy. She moaned and closed her eyes.
A warm hand stroked over her calf, a soothing, petting gesture. “Trainees are often on display, sugar. Can you handle that?”
His concern made her breath catch. How long since anyone had worried about her feelings? She tried to push the thought away. Don’t get caught up in this sub stuff, girl. You’re here as a decoy, nothing else.
And aside from the craving to run screaming out of the place, she was handling it just fine. Handle it better. What if the kidnapper stood out in the hallway with the other people? The thought chilled her and spurred her into action. She rattled the stirrups and snapped, “Doesn’t look like I have much choice, now does it? Do you tie up all your girlfriends?”
Silence. The stool squeaked as he rose. He walked slowly to her side and looked at her for a long minute, and then the sternness in his gaze faded into such understanding that her eyes burned. He cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking over her lips. She had to firm her chin to keep it from quivering.
“Do you get more mouthy when you’re scared, Darlin’?”
She couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“Gabrielle, trainees have a lot more experience in the lifestyle, and they want what the Shadowlands offers. You, however…”
She stiffened, jolted into awareness that she might have pushed him too far. She hadn’t even made it through two nights, and he wanted to boot her out. But Z said he couldn’t if she refused to go. “I do, Sir. I want it.”
He studied her. “I don’t believe you. You know, if anyone but Master Z had admitted you…” He sighed. “If I asked you to leave right now, would you?”
She set her lips and shook her head.
“I think you’re biting off more than you can chew, but so be it.” He looked at her a minute longer, then touched his finger to her nose. “Stubborn.”
She inhaled in relief as he returned to his stool. A second later, a warm washcloth landed on her pussy, making her jump.
Marcus frowned through the entire shaving process. He could usually get inside the head of a sub and figure out what made them tick, what they wanted and what they needed as well. But this little one…
Not used to being handled intimately. Not comfortable with public display although he believed her when she said she’d played in clubs before. The Shadowlands, however, was more personal than a horde of strangers.
He finished shaving the top of her mound, then inserted two fingers into her vagina, ignoring her gasp. Hot and silky. Very nice. Again he noted her tightness—as if she hadn’t had a man in a long time. He doubted her hiatus from sex came from a low sex drive since she was definitely aroused right now.
Thrusting unhurriedly in and out of her soft cunt, he felt her muscles constrict around his intrusion. His cock hardened, demanding he intrude farther, but he couldn’t do that. Although he’d arrange scenes for her with other doms, he’d wait for a while before taking her himself. She needed to know she could trust her trainer.
Eventually though…he looked forward to playing with her. Her sassiness didn’t annoy him, not in the way he’d thought it would. It was more of a challenge. And in between her idiotic rebellions, her cheerful personality drew him like a fire on a cold mountain morning. A few burns from sparks might prove worth the chance to get warm.
After withdrawing his fingers from her vagina, he pulled the skin taut on her outer labia. She had pretty curls, the same golden red as on her head. A natural redhead. The fiery color was well suited to her personality. The razor scraped her clean, exposing skin the color of rich cream. Plump pink inner folds peeked out from the center.
He drew her buttocks apart, smiling at her instinctive stiffening, and removed the scant hair closer to her anus. The puckered bud would obviously need some preparation before she accepted a cock there.
After rinsing off the shaving cream, he massaged in gel to decrease the irritation and considered his problem. Unlike the other trainees, Gabrielle hadn’t been a part of the Shadowlands for months. To make the situation worse, her previous club play had been light. And because of her constant defiance, they’d gotten off to a bad start.
No wonder Z’s friend considered her a problem. No dom would put up with such excessive insolence for long. Or one might consider it an excuse to whip the hell out of her. The thought turned his stomach, yet he had few choices here. She needed to want to please him more than she wanted to defy him, but until she did or he figured out what would motivate her, he’d have to discipline her.
It seemed like punishing her was all he’d accomplished tonight. He stroked her thigh and felt the faint quiver. Her eyes were closed, her breathing a little fast, nipples in taut peaks. Needy. Already restrained. Marcus smiled. He’d very much like to give her as much pleasure as he had pain, and nothing made a woman more vulnerable or created a bond faster than giving her an orgasm.
Leaning forward, he framed her pussy with his hands and ran his tongue up and over her clit.
She’d known he’d finished when he rubbed in a cool gel and stroked her thigh comfortingly. Gabi relaxed. She’d worried for a minute when he’d pushed his fingers into her pussy, but then he’d simply resumed shaving her. He’d let her up now, and maybe she could leave. She really, really wanted to go home and try to get her emotions back under control.
She saw him lean forward, felt his hands pull her labia apart, and…something hot and wet slid right over her clit. She jerked so hard the straps pinched her skin. Oh my God! He was licking—licking—her. The blast of heat ran through her like a forest fire.
His tongue worked inward, stroking newly bare areas never before touched like this, then playing with her clit, teasing the hood and grazing over the very top. Her entire body hit complete need as if she’d turned into a sports car, zero to a hundred in eight seconds.
She gasped when he pushed two fingers inside her, ruthlessly stretching her open, sending pleasure deep into her core. He pulled back slowly, circled her entrance, then thrust his fingers in and out, setting up a fast, driving rhythm. Dear God, this wasn’t sex play, this was a total you-will-come-now, done by someone who knew just how to make it happen. Her hips kept trying to rise, defeated by the strap across her waist. Pressure formed low in her belly and coiled tight…tighter. She hovered on the peak for just a second.
And then he pulled her clit into his mouth and sucked, sliding his tongue over the most sensitive spot.
Everything inside her exploded, shooting pleasure outward so strong and fast that her head should have shattered. More waves of heat burst through her until her fingers tingled.
His tongue lapped her gently, making her vagina clench again and again, each time meeting the solid fingers inside her. God, she couldn’t move, couldn’t escape, and every time she tried and failed, another wave would sweep over her.
When the roller coaster finally stopped, he removed his fingers, and she shuddered at the feeling of loss. For a minute, he stroked her thigh, easing her down, and then walked around the table.
“You come quite nicely, Darlin’,” he said softly. He put an arm on each side of her shoulders, and she had a moment to see those thick forearms before he bent to nuzzle her neck. His wonderful scent, a subtle amber and musk, surrounded her. When his beard shadow scraped the hollow under her ear, goose bumps bloomed across her body. He kissed her gently, nibbled her lips, and plunged in.