Chapter 26
KEELY
I’m not sure what wakes me. All I know is that I’m lighter than a cirrus cloud and soaring just as high, even though I’m weighted down by a heavy limb.
Mason’s scent hits my nostrils and memory rushes back.
I told him. Another human knows what happened to me six years ago.
I wait for my stomach to turn, for the hot poker of shame to stab me in the heart, because let’s face it, the Sodom-sized hell visited upon me wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t following the dictates of my pussy.
The bundle of nerves between my legs has altered my reality for all time, and for as long as I live, I’ll have to bear the consequences of that, so yeah… shame.
I wait for it to drown me.
Nothing happens. I’m still floating. A little heavier than I was a moment ago, but I’m a happy, shame-free cloud.
A happy, shame-free, horny cloud.
Slowly, I open my eyes. The room is dawn-dark, so I know we haven’t been asleep longer than three hours.
I turn my head and watch a softly snoring Mason.
He’s lying on his side, as if he fell asleep watching me.
The thought tightens my chest, and I dance away from the warning light flickering on inside me.
He was a handy confessor. More than that, he received my burden with no outward judgment.
For that, he deserves a reward. And I know just the thing.
I lean closer and touch his eyebrow. He shifts, but his eyes remain closed, so I kiss the corner of his mouth, linger on his sensual upper lip before I trail kisses along his jaw to his ear. He stirs beneath me, and I know he’s awake.
“‘You are the one I am lit for. Come with your rod that twists and is a serpent,’” I whisper the line from “To a Dark Moses” in his ear.
His jaw moves and I can tell without looking that he’s smiling.
“You wake me with talk of rods and serpents. Either you’re a celestial being come to deliver the end of days, or you’re a little horny. Which is it, kitten?”
I rub my aching breasts against his chest and revel in the quiver that rushes through my belly. “Hmm, the second one. And I’m more than a little horny.”
“You want me to do something about that, baby?” he croons into my ear.
“Yes, please.”
One hand spreads over my back and pulls me deeper into his body. The rod of his cock prods hard into my belly. “Yes, please, what?”
“Please, sir. Make the ache go away.”
His hand moves from my back to my hair and captures a sheaf in a punishing hold. He pulls me by the hair until my face hangs over his, and we stare deep into each other’s eyes. “Ask me again,” he commands tightly.
“I want you. So badly I hurt everywhere. Fuck me, sir. Please fuck me and make the pain go away.”
He shuts his eyes for a second. “ Christ . You know how perfect you could be?”
Could be? Something fragile cracks open and oozes fuck knows what inside me. “No, I don’t, because perfection is an illusion.”
His mouth twists without regret. “That it is. But fucking you isn’t.”
My senses leap a mile high. “No. Yes. Do it, please.”
His fist clenches until my scalp burns. “Fuck, I get so damn hard when you beg.”
I groan, and my eager hand slips down his hot torso to delve beneath the cover. He captures my wrist before I reach my goal.
“Did I say you could touch me, kitten?”
So that’s the game we’re playing? Okay. I slowly circle my lips with my wet tongue and try to look suitably contrite, while impatience and need burn me alive. “I’m sorry, sir. Permission to stroke your cock, sir.”
“Permission denied.” He lets go of me and slaps his hand against the headboard. “Get up here,” he instructs and lunges out of bed.
I raise myself on my elbows, alone and adrift in my confusion.
Like everything on the IL Indulgence , the furniture design is elegantly simple, but luxuriously comfortable. There’s nothing about the steel headboard that promises me relief from the increasing ball of agony between my legs.
“Umm… why?”
“Keely,” he warns.
“I’m sorry… sir. I just don’t understand how the headboard will give me what I need.”
My mind zeroes in on what will , and I groan helplessly.
A smile splits his face that catches at my heartstrings. “You don’t trust me to give you what you need?”
“I do, but…” The plaintive note in my voice irritates me, but this is what he’s reduced me to. I clear my throat. “I don’t want it to be dragged out. Sir.”
He thinks for a minute, and his gaze gentles. “It won’t be. Not this time. I’ll make you come in under three minutes. Does that work for you?”
I nod eagerly.
“Then get up on your knees and hold tight to the headboard.”
I comply with pathetically wanton enthusiasm. When he walks backward to the dresser, I hold my breath. I watch him open the drawer and pull out a familiar box. It’s the one he gave me yesterday that I never got round to opening.
Anticipation tingles up my spine as I track his return.
When he climbs onto the bed behind me, it takes supreme effort not to reach for him. But I’ve learned that compliance brings quicker gratification than defying my dominant lover.
“A little old-fashioned, but effective nonetheless.” He flips the box lid open and pulls out a long silver chain with a knot in the middle and pegs at each end.
My nipples tighten just from the sight of the clamps. My Pavlova-tuned cunt ripples and dampens in delight.
I can barely breathe when Mason unhooks the knot and ties the chain around my waist. The opposing textures of cold metal against my hot skin chases goosebumps over my body.
When the metal drapes over my hip, he holds one clamp to my lips. “Make this wet for me.”
Keeping my gaze on his, I suck the peg into my mouth and swirl my tongue around it. A faint flush darts over his cheekbones and feminine power fills me, even though I know it won’t be mine for long.
It vanishes the moment both clamps are wet and he crouches behind me. “Your nipples are so perfect for this,” he whispers. “Hell, your whole body is perfect for however I choose to fuck it.”
“Does that please you, sir?” I’m amazed at how easily the word falls from my lips now. I may not know the ins and outs of being a true submissive, but this is a learning curve I’m okay with.
“It pleases me, kitten. Very, very much.” His tongue trails up the side of my neck and I tremble hard.
I cry out as the teeth of the clamp pinch my sensitive bud.
Pleasure follows and my pussy grows wetter.
By the time Mason places the second clamp on my other nipple, I’m halfway to coming.
I look down at myself, and the sight of the silver dangling from my breasts and across my body nearly sends me over the edge.
“See how beautiful you are?”
I shake my head. “I’m not beautiful.”
His hand glides down my spine to grip my ass cheek, hard. “Are you disagreeing with me?”
“Umm… no, sir.”
“What, then?”
“I’ve always thought I’m okay to look at, maybe even pretty. Beautiful isn’t… quite me.”
He pauses his ministrations. “So you are disagreeing with me.”
My eyes squeeze shut, and I curse silently with frustration. “Maybe a little. Mason, please.”
He slaps my ass hard. Pain and pleasure spiral in opposite directions. “You’re forgetting yourself, kitten.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“You’re beautiful. Say it,” Mason growls.
I feel a little ridiculous for starting this argument, but I’m caught in it now, and the quickest way I can get the orgasm I crave is to give in. “I’m beautiful,” I mumble.
That half-assed attempt earns me another smack. “You want to try saying it like you believe it?”
“I’m beautiful,” I say louder.
“Again.”
“I’m beautiful!”
The mattress shifts and I look down to see his head between my knees. I almost come right there as his dark gold eyes and strong hands worship my body.
“You’re beautiful,” he rasps. His tongue licks up one inner thigh and down the other. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He flicks my clit and stars burst before my vision.
“I’m beautiful,” I repeat, daring to believe it a little.
He cradles my ass in his hands and brings me down hard on his mouth.
I loved the device Mason clamped on my pussy the first time we fucked on the yacht, but it’s nothing compared to the skill and texture of his mouth and tongue on my cunt.
And when he hooks his fingers and pulls on the chain attached to my nipples, I’m a ball of pure sensation, cannoning down the slope toward bliss.
“Oh, God! ”
My orgasm bursts on me before I’m ready, but I ride it with sheer abandon. When convulsions rip through me, I roll my hips in rough, ecstatic undulations. Mason lets me fuck his mouth until my shudders die down, then he rearranges me over his body.
He plunges into my clenching sheath while I’m still twitching, and the fireworks erupt again.
He fucks me like he owns me, which I guess he does until we part, and I hang on for dear life.
We’re both bathed in sticky sweat and come by the time the sun rises. I can barely move, and all I do is purr as he pets me into sleepy bliss.
From our brief time together, I know Mason Sinclair isn’t a heart and flowers guy. So when he pushes back my hair and raises my head so he can look in my eyes, I’m prepared for a rasped command, or punishment for an overlooked slight. What I get instead strangles my breath in my throat.
“You’re fucking beautiful, kitten. Nothing that happened to you was your fault.
Wanting to explore your sexuality is nothing to be ashamed about.
I know there’s more to what happened to you.
” My residual pleasure takes a nosedive, but he shakes his head.
“I won’t force you to tell me. But what I know is more than enough to make me pissed off that you think you don’t have anything to live for. ”
My gaze drops.
“Look at me, Keely,” he demands.
I reluctantly comply.
“You’re beautiful. And you have a hell of a fucking lot to live for. If nothing else, to prove to the bastards who violated you that you’re not broken.”
“How can I, when I don’t know who they are?”