“Oh, he did, did he?” Her eyes were wary yet intrigued as Ben gave her the bag.
“He did. Marcie and I swung back by last night and picked it up.” Keeping a light hand on her elbow, he moved to open the rear passenger door. When her quizzical gaze met his, he gave her a steady look, a different expression from what he’d shown her in the gallery, but one she knew pretty well, if the sudden stillness to her gaze, the press of her lips, were any indication. “He wants you wearing one of them when I escort you up the street to him. I think you’ll know which one.”
He handed her into the car and closed it after her, the tinted windows giving her the privacy she’d need. As he leaned against the car, waiting on her, he thought of what wonderful things were happening in the back seat.
He’d approved heartily of Lucas’s choice and bought Marcie a pair in pink. The panties had rose patterns in the sheer gauze, the edges trimmed in lace. Ribbon laced over the crotch, and the ends of the ribbons were tipped with two rose-shaped clamps, fingernail-sized, but which clipped over the clitoris and labia, respectively. Once on, they heated with the body’s chemistry and started to tingle. Then to vibrate.
Dedicated pussy man that he was, Lucas could play his tongue between the laces, or strip them out entirely. As the dangling silken ribbons teased her creamy inner thighs, Lucas would tug on them to increase the impact of the clamps on her delicate regions.
When the door opened slightly, telling him she was ready, he opened it and extended a hand. His Dom side, along with every ounce of testosterone, approved of her flushed cheeks, parted lips and the aroused sparkle in her eyes. She blinked at him as he drew her back out, and he steadied her on her feet. The heat and tingle effect apparently kicked in pretty damn fast. Also, Cass was a responsive submissive on the psychological side of things. Just knowing Lucas had mandated something like this would get her worked up.
“He wants me to walk three blocks this way?” she asked, incredulity carried on a breathless half-laugh.
“He’s your Dom. What do you think? What a bastard.”
She gave him a wry look, despite the underlying distraction. “From what I hear, if it was you, it would be twenty blocks.”
Ben smiled and tucked her fingers into the crook of his elbow, enjoying the way she clutched him and the swallow that moved her slim throat as they began to walk. After only one of the three blocks, she was biting her lip, and he felt the shudder that ran through her skin.
“Ben…”
He pulled her into the alcove between stores and put his arm around her, letting her drop her head against his chest and breathe. He ran his hand in slow glides down her back, caressing the valley of her spine.
“It works fast, doesn’t it?”
“He works fast,” she muttered. “All he has to do is suggest something like this, let alone have me wear it…”
“That’s good training,” Ben said, a low reproving rumble. “A submissive who responds that fast to what her Master demands.”
Another half-chuckle, a desperate sound. Lucas would want her worked up, but not anxious. Ben caressed her neck under her fall of thick blond hair. “I’m not going to let you be embarrassed, darling. Don’t worry about that. I know every corner and pocket alley between here and that restaurant.”
He’d take care of Lucas’s lovely submissive. The idea of her reaching climax while he held her, her mouth hard against his chest to muffle the moans, was a really nice thought. But he wouldn’t want Lucas deprived of the pleasure, so he gave her a little shake and tipped up her head, showing her a more unrelenting expression. It was enough of the sharp edge of his Master side to command her attention, and had her stiffening against him with some sensual trepidation.
“But that’s not going to be necessary, is it? Your climax belongs to your Master. It’s his to command.”
“Yes,” she said. He raised a brow, and she corrected herself, almost as sweetly as her sister did it.
“Yes, sir.”
He knew seeing him as a Master would help her right now, but it gave him a nice shot right to the balls. Wanting to sweeten the reward for good behavior, he pressed his palm to her lower back and leaned in, speaking in her ear.
“You may have been a mother most of your life, Cass,” he said, low. “But you’ve always been a desirable, fuckable woman. Lucas is a lucky man.”
He decided then and there he was headed straight back home to Marcie before dropping off the painting and hanging out with Nate. He’d press his soft brat into the mattress, bury himself balls deep inside her. No frills, no demands, other than being connected like that. At the moment, that was all he wanted. Then he’d make her lunch, and put together enough to feed Nate.
Cass was right. If it was Marcie, he would have made her walk twenty blocks and she wouldn’t have had a prayer of making it without climaxing. He would have fed off that desperation, as she became more and more helpless to control her acceleration to peak.
But then, he’d always been ten times the bastard of any of them. That was what made him the luckiest man of all. He wouldn’t ever forget that. It was his promise, to Cass, to Marcie…and to himself.
The Card Game
Rachel tested the temperature of the water with one extended hand, feeling the flutter of air off the flow. It also gave her the chance to turn her fingertips this way and that, to admire the manicure she’d obtained with Cass and Savannah earlier in the week. The pearlescent gloss had a simple white feather stroke on each nail. Very minimalist and yet organic, the kind of thing that she liked and was reflected in the mostly Japanese style décor of their home.
Jon had liked the manicure, too. Last night, he’d tied her wrists to the armrests of a wooden kitchen chair so he could study her nails as he knelt between her spread legs. He’d kissed each finger, both wrists. Worked his way down her arms, along the outer curves of her breasts. Pressed his mouth to her navel, then traveled down to her clit so he could lazily draw circles on it with his tongue. After he did that long enough that her hips were jerking up from the seat, he’d decided to run soft ropes over her upper thighs to hamper such movements.
He went back to teasing her clit, only this time he used a feather, and some kind of oil that made her shudder to remember it even now. He’d barely brushed it on before she was climaxing, straining so hard against her bonds he’d spent a lot of blissful aftercare time, massaging and soothing those abrasions.