“Untested subs, Simone, they do not find it easy to go there,” he continued.
He was right.
Submissives new to the scene required a lot more time and work to guide them into the headspace where they could give over control, slip into the zone, find themselves languishing in the agony and ecstasy of being at the mercy of someone else’s will, not content but wholly rapturous they were used to serve their Dominant.
Their first full scene, and she’d found herself right there.
Except calling him Master, something he was. He knew it, she knew it. It was just something she could not say—he’d guided her right there.
Because that was her as it was him.
From the moment they met there was no other way it could be.
“Stellan—” she whispered.
“How much more proof do you need that you’re mine, Simone?” he asked.
She didn’t have an answer to that.
“Undeniably mine,” he stated the answer she refused to say. Then he went in for the kill. “Forever, sweetheart.”
Forever.
She knew she was.
She was his.
Forever.
The thing was … that was true, absolutely, without a single doubt true.
But it didn’t mean what he thought it meant.
And she was going to give him what she could.
Then she was going to have to do something about it.
twelve
Sealed
SIXX
Sixx lay on her belly between Stellan’s cocked legs, holding his balls in her mouth, resting the side of her head in the juncture of hip and thigh, recovering.
He’d eaten her …
And eaten her …
And eaten her …
Not unrelenting, he slowed to give her time to pull herself together, but he kept her riding his face for what had felt like hours. She was surprised the sun was still shining through the windows, for she had withstood the work of his mouth so long she felt the sun surely had gone down and the moon should be filling the sky.
Stellan’s fingers were stroking gently along the line of her hair at her neck, as she stared up close at his distended cock, memorizing every line, ridge, vein and swell, thinking in her current state what she thought not in her current state.
Seriously.
His cock could have been sculpted by an artist.
“Lift your eyes to me, Simone.”
She knew he meant her to keep him in her mouth as previously instructed, so she did that and tilted only enough to look up the textured sections of his abs, over the bulging crests of his pecs, past the corded column of his throat, to his adoring, languorous, dark blue eyes.
It was then, in the zone, his to do with as he willed, she shot right back into herself.
Mira looked at Trey like that when she worked him.
And Leigh looked at Olly like that.
Now she had that.
She had that.
From Stellan.
God.
“Do you understand now the difference between when you’re simply mine and when you’re mine in play?” he asked.
Man, did she ever.
She blinked once.
His lips curved up in a way she felt buzz in her clit.
“You’ve earned your reward now, darling,” he murmured. “Release me, cover me and come up to straddle me.”
Her body a mass of electrified nerve endings that she’d grown accustomed to, but were nevertheless an enduring, splendid misery, she slid his balls out of her mouth, shifted up, adjusted the waistband of his pants so it covered his privates, then she moved up to straddle him even as he kept his legs cocked, not making it easy.
When she got in position, she discovered a new beautiful misery, feeling him hard against her wet, needy core and knowing she could do nothing about it.
Stellan slid his hands across her waist to the small of her back and up the sides of her spine, her skin so sensitized, if she let go, even an inch of his touch could drive her to climax.
But she held strong.
She had no clue how she did.
But she did.
For him.
He pulled her down to him as his hands moved until she was resting chest to chest on him, her fingers curled over his shoulders.
“Our first time as Master and his pretty, stubborn slave, I’ve something special planned,” he told her.
She was in little doubt that something special would not be something special.
It would be something spectacular.
The question was … would she survive it?
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
That one word came out shaky because she said it, she wanted to mean it, she just wasn’t sure she actually did.
One of his hands slid back down, between her legs, under the lace, through the wet to rest at her clit.
Her body jolted, and she had to seize her lower lip between her teeth and bite down, the pain helping her hold her control.
Stellan’s wicked smile came back.
“I thought I cleaned all that wet away,” he remarked.
“Mm,” she hummed, incapable of further considering her entire focus was on her clit and what he might do with it, considering he’d told her that her reward was imminent.
“So I can assume you enjoy spending time with my balls in your mouth?” he queried.
“Yes,” she pushed out.
More like, God, yes.
Holding him like that. Serving him like that. His cock that close for her to see.
Bliss.
Aching bliss but bliss all the same.
His eyebrows arched. “Yes…?”
It was a prompt.
“Yes,” she whispered miserably, not giving him what he wanted.
She had to give it to him.
She had to give it to him … before she set about losing him.
But damn it …
She couldn’t give it to him.
He bent to her and touched his mouth to hers, and Sixx breathed that touch in like oxygen because he hadn’t kissed her at all, light or hard, not the entire day.
And then he shattered her world, demonstrating how deeply he understood her and giving her something more she wanted badly but really could not have.
“You wouldn’t be you if there wasn’t a little Sixx somewhere in there, being stubborn, holding back,” he said gently. “The Mistress coming out, my Mistress, submitting to me at the same time making me work and slave to earn something.”
Her body stiffened from all he’d said.
However …
His Mistress?
“It would be boring if it was no challenge at all, darling,” he went on, flicked her clit with his fingers, making her moan, her body jolt again, and he finished, “But I’ll best it, Sixx. You’ll submit to me too, as Simone does. I guarantee that.”
“Stellan—”
“Come,” he said, removing his hands, curling up, taking her with him as he exited the bed, putting her on her feet. He wrapped his fingers around hers. “Time for your reward.”
He tugged at her hand, and she walked with him out of his bedroom into the hall, down the hall, the stairs and along the back passage toward the laundry room, only to stop at the door to the basement.
It was then her heart started pounding as he led her down the stairs.
He’d said their play would be in their bed, their home.
But she had a feeling he wasn’t taking her to the home theater or the wine cellar (though both would be interesting).
No.
He was taking her to the playroom.
His fully-kitted playroom.
Benches. Vaults. Tables. Suspension apparatus. Crosses.
He also had equipment—chains, flogs, whips, paddles, crops, switches, candles, ropes, cuffs, shackles.
Further, he had cabinets filled with toys—vibrators, clamps, phalluses, plugs, gags, masks, corsets.
Sixx had not once seen him go hardcore on any of his subs, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t seen him get creative with a cross, a set of clamps, toys, restraints, anything with a handle and more.
She had not, however, seen him do any of that with a slave new to his playroom.
He could be a tyrant, but he was a break-’em-in-easy kind of guy. It was the surprise they received when he took it deeper that got him off.
She was licking her lips and hovering somewhere between pulling her hand from his and running away and tightening her fingers around his and dragging him to the playroom herself when they made it to the door.