Her Dom: A Dark Romance (Beauty and the Captor Book 3) Read online

  “Open your legs,” I said because the asshole in me knew she needed to push past this. She wanted to submit—it had been her choice—and that meant offering up every part of her, knowing that it pleased her master—that she was pleasing to her master.

  She hesitated this time, but slowly she complied, and when she did, I knew I had to pull myself together. The war in my head—wanting her desperately while hating myself for it—was going to fuck this up. She wanted this, and I’d agreed to it. It was time to man the fuck up and do this right—either all the way or not at all.

  “Wider, Pet. I want to see your beautiful pussy.”

  Without a sound, she obeyed, though her breathing was still coming too fast.

  Blocking out the image of the last time she’d been open to me on Vicente’s god damn exam table, I looked at her. The wounds had almost completely healed. She was…beautiful. Perfect. And so fucking sexy. I rubbed the cream along her slit where it was needed, but damn, I was loath to stop.

  So, I didn’t. I ran my fingers along her soft lips and brushed across her clit. Her body jerked in response as a tiny moan escaped her, and it was all I could do to not bury myself balls-deep inside her. Patience was a virtue I was short on at the moment, but I’d wait. For now. I would have her again though—and soon.

  “I’m going to make us lunch.” And maybe grab an ice cold shower. “I want you to look through the top box in the stack I’ve brought and choose something to wear. You’re to be on your knees at the end of the bed by the time I return, Pet. Use a pillow for cushioning.”

  “Yes, Master,” she breathed and rolled onto her side to get up.

  I left then and hightailed it to the kitchen. There were only non-perishable foods in the house at the moment, but that would do for now. And really, who could give a fuck about food when there was a woman like Scar on her knees in the bedroom upstairs?

  And when I returned to the room ten minutes later, that was precisely the sight that greeted me. I’d ordered several nightgowns the day I’d agreed to this arrangement, and the one she wore now was semi-transparent. It scooped low in the front but sat high on her back, and came to just above mid-thigh. With her on her knees now, thighs parted, the see-through fabric draped like a veil over her pussy. Her head was tilted down and her hands rested on her thighs. The perfect submissive pose. Damn.

  Arousal, rage, need and anguish coursed through me, but in that second when they all collided, it struck me all at once and Scar suddenly made sense. I’d been struggling to understand why she’d asked me for this—how she could possibly want this. Looking at her kneeling so perfectly, I finally got it.

  My time with her before had shown me clearly that—at least sexually—she was a submissive. It hadn’t been just an act to avoid punishment. She wanted to be dominated, maybe even needed it as much as I needed to dominate. Those needs were in our blood, no matter what fucked up shit life dealt us. She also liked the way pain enhanced her pleasure.

  After the hell she’d been through though, she needed this. Not just new memories to drown out the old, but the chance to reaffirm for herself through what happened here that the things that brought her pleasure were OK. And it would all be by her own choosing this time.

  This had been her choice, but now it was mine, too. She was mine. Now. Forever. Mine.

  “Touch yourself, Pet,” I said as I put the tray I’d brought down on the bed.

  Her eyes peered up through her lashes, but she kept her head tilted down at the floor, and her small hand came up to cup her breast. The firm flesh spilt over her fingers, making my fingers itch to cup her in my own hands where she fit so well.

  It took a minute, but eventually, she relaxed enough to graze her thumb over her nipple. It pebbled beneath her touch, and her lips parted on a sigh as she moved her thumb back and forth.

  “Use your other hand on your pussy. Lean back against the bed if it puts too much strain on your ribs.”

  Her obedience came quicker this time, though her hands still trembled. I unzipped my fly as her fingers slipped through her silken folds. By the time she settled over her clit, I had my cock out. I pumped it slowly, a foot away from her face. I could see her trying to peak up at me through her lashes, but she kept her head tilted down like she knew she was supposed to. Her fingers moved slowly, rubbing in a circular motion while her other hand continued to knead one breast and then the other.

  It was clear by the flush of her skin and the quiet sounds she made, she was aroused, but it was coming slower than it used to for her.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking, Pet.”

  “I’m thinking this is different, Master. That I want this, but…”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, and I could feel what it was she needed. It was strange to be so in tune with another person. It was a master’s responsibility to know a slave well, but this was different. It was more. And it was how I knew she needed more of her senses engaged to get higher, to get to the place where her body would take over.

  “Look at me,” I demanded.

  Heat flared in her eyes as her gaze traveled upward, lingering briefly on my cock, inches from her lips.

  “Breathe in deep. What do you smell?”

  She breathed in obediently, and the heat in her eyes grew a little brighter. “I smell you, Masterman, and musk, and…salt. And…and me.”

  I leaned down and slipped my middle finger inside her, but I withdrew and stood a second later. With my index finger, I gathered the drop of precum that beaded on the tip of my cock, and then slid both fingers into her mouth. She sucked them in deeper and I could feel her tongue licking us off of me. I stifled a grown.

  Her fingers had picked up their pace on her clit by the time I withdrew and a moan escaped her lips.

  “What do you taste?”

  “Sex, Master. Lust. Us.”

  Fuck, even her word choices were sexy. I gripped my cock and thrust into my hand. It was a poor substitute for the tight sheath I wanted wrapped around me, but this was as far as it would go today. Yet, there was something seductively kinky about the current scene. I’d never masturbated in front of a woman while watching her bring herself to orgasm.

  Her lips were parted as if she was waiting, ready for me to shove my cock between them and pry them open further. So fucking tempting, and I imagined her lips wrapping around me as I thrust into my hand.

  Her eyes were alight now, and I could see the fine sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her breasts rose and fell with every heavy breath, and her quiet, breathy moans had grown louder, reverberating inside my head and shooting pulses of heat to the base of my spine.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking, Pet.”

  “I want your cock, Master. I want to taste you, and feel you inside me.”

  It had been stupid of me to ask because it was just too fucking much. Thank fuck she was almost there. Her pace was frantic, and her fingers weren’t just grazing her nipple now; they were pinching, squeezing harder every second. Her back arched and her whole body tensed as she cried out. It sent me over the edge fast, and I groaned through my own orgasm as I spurted white ribbons of cum across her satin-covered tits.

  As I tucked myself back into my pants, I kept my eyes on her—not for any particular reason other than I didn’t want to stop looking at her. Her skin still flushed from her orgasm, and her lips still slightly parted as her breathing slowed to something that resembled normal—I could look at her forever.

  Unfortunately, she was due for medicine, and it only seemed polite to help her into another nightgown after coming all over the one she had on.

  “Stand up.”

  She rose to her feet slowly. Her movements were still stilted and she clutched the end of the bed to keep pressure off her ribs, but she didn’t grimace in pain.

  Since the nightgown had some stretch to it, I slipped the straps off her shoulders and then kissed a trail down the valley of her breasts as I slid it down below them. Pulling the fabric down lower, I followed it down her ri
bs and abdomen. Her breathing sped up again, but as I slid the gown over her lips and it fell to the floor, I veered off on a path to her hip and she let out a tiny, frustrated grown.

  “Something wrong, Pet?”

  “N-no, Master,” she replied, but I could see her fingers flexing at her sides. She was itching to try to move me back where she wanted me.

  “Good then,” I said, springing to my feet with a cocky grin. Tease and frustrate—I was good at that game.

  I helped her into a fresh nightgown and then retrieved the pills and a bottle of water from the untouched tray. “You need your medicine.”

  “I…” she started, but then stopped.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t want them, Master. They make my head cloudy.”

  “And is it up to you whether you swallow this?” I held one out in my hand.

  “No, Master.”

  I didn’t want her to be in pain, but I could well remember my own aversion to the painkillers. They’d made my head feel like it was stuffed full of fucking cotton balls.

  “You will tell me if the pain increases enough that you become more than uncomfortable.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  I dropped the pill back in the bottle and set them on the night table. I’d kept them hidden at first, afraid she’d be tempted to down a whole bottle during those first few days. I didn’t worry about that now.

  “Sit on the bed with your back against the headboard. You need to eat, but I don’t want you getting up and down more than necessary yet.”

  There’s no way to explain what it’s like to feed someone—to hold their very sustenance in your hands. It was enough to make me heady as I slipped the food between her lips and she pulled it off gently, careful not to dig in or scrape me with her teeth. This wasn’t something I would be able to do with Scar forever. Soon, she wouldn’t need me as her master to make her way in the world. Where the fuck I fit in once that happened, I had no idea. But for now, I savored her lips taking the food from my fingers. Hell, I fucking loved it.

  3

  Derek

  Two days passed in much the same way as that first day at the house. And with every hour that went by, I could feel a knot growing tighter in my stomach. I was playing a role. I was playing at being me, and it was starting to make my skin crawl. If it had been working for Scar, then I’d chalk it up as small penance for my sins, but she wasn’t satisfied either, even if she hadn’t come out and said it.

  I’d never played at being master before. It had never been a game or an act; it was who and what I was. It ran thick and heavy in my blood. But everything I was doing was cautious, carefully planned, and I was always on guard, waiting for signs I was pushing her too far. Always ready to retreat. Ever-ready to back down. Hell, I was turning into a fucking pussy.

  She’d been silently provoking me. She’d make eye contact without permission, or scrape her teeth into my skin when I fed her, and I could feel the challenge to my core, but I’d gritted my teeth and ignored it. She wanted a master, and these were things no master would ignore. I knew it and she knew it. And she wanted what should have come from it. But every time I closed my eyes, I could see those fuckers, whips in hand, flaying open her back and using her body. I was terrified that something I did would bring her back there. So, I wasn’t pushing her to her limits, and I wasn’t disciplining her when she pushed mine.

  I needed to do something because I couldn’t live like this much longer, and neither could she.

  I walked into the room carrying lunch. I’d left her kneeling on the bed with a blindfold on, but the blindfold was off now, dangling from her fingers where they rested on her thigh. She had the good sense to look chagrined, but it wasn’t going to be enough this time. It couldn’t be. Every fiber of my body said this was what she wanted, and it sure as fuck was what I needed.

  I placed the tray on the night table and strode across the room to the closet door. Without a care for the door, I rippled the full-length mirror off it and brought it back around the bed to prop it up on the wall four feet away.

  A glance at my disobedient pet told me she was aware she’d pushed it too far this time. Her eyes were glued to the floor, her back straight, and her fingers now trembled ever so slightly. Fear? Anticipation? Excitement?—a conglomeration of them all, I imagined.

  “Stand up,” I told her in a calm, cool voice that felt as familiar as an old friend.

  She was off the bed in a flash and standing in front of me with her eyes fixed on someplace by her feet.

  “Take off the nightgown.”

  She grabbed the hem and lifted it up, revealing toned thighs, firm stomach and then luscious breasts. I wasn’t oblivious to the way she thrust out her breasts toward me as she yanked the gown off over her head. A tempting distraction, but I’d get to those later.

  I sat down at the edge of the bed and watched her, feeling the surge of arousal and adrenaline course through my veins. I drew it out, waiting a minute, and then two to let the anticipation heighten. If I was going to hell for being me, then I was going with a stinging hand and a rock hard cock because there was no way I wanted to stop this now.

  “Come here, Pet.” My voice made her jump, but she crossed the two steps between us. “Is there anything you want to say to me?”

  “I’m sorry, Master.”

  “I don’t believe you are, but you will be. Lay across my lap.”

  She moved to the side of me and bent over to comply. Fireworks were already sparking in my brain, and when her tight ass was in position in front of me, I was about ready to blow sky high. I took the time to run a hand over her firm cheeks, drawing out her wait even more. She shivered when I let a finger trail up the cleft between her cheeks, and the sexy little temptress tried to wriggle her ass higher to keep my fingers on her.

  My hand actually tingled in anticipation, but the wait was over. I raised it up and brought it down with a loud clap that was like music to my ears. Her body jolted and she whimpered, but she relaxed her muscles in preparation for the next slap almost right away.

  I rained down four in quick succession while her pelvis squirmed and writhed against my cock. Her cries, whimpers and moans fell over top of one another, and I had to fight against the urge to flip her onto the bed and drive into her pussy to the hilt. I knew she’d be wet for me. We were a perfect fit because she loved what I did to her, and she was the most intoxicating drug I could imagine. The way she tried to squirm away from my hand while grinding her clit against my thigh; her cries of pain and moans of pleasure—they were my cocaine and I was helplessly addicted.

  Five more stinging slaps, and then I paused, tracing the canvas of handprints I’d laid on top of her mostly healed wounds. Soon, those old ones would be gone, every trace of them, and then there would be only my marks on her soft flesh. Only mine. She was mine. Mine!

  “Tell me how sorry you are, Pet.”

  “I’m very sorry, Master. I was wrong to provoke you,” she panted between heavy breaths.

  Five more slaps and my cock jerked with every one of them. “Tell me again.”

  “I’m sorry, Master.”

  Five more, spread out so that her whole ass was now a sexy shade of pink. “Why?”

  “Because I should have obeyed.”

  Five more. “Why?”

  “Because I’m yours.”

  Fuck, yes—that’s what I wanted to hear. “Say it again.”

  “I’m yours.”

  I shoved a finger into her pussy. Her soaking wet pussy. Fuck, she was so wet she was dripping down her thighs. I lifted her up as I stood and dropped her on her back on the bed, all in the same breath. I unzipped my pants and shoved them to my knees, not even wasting the time to take them off.

  I leaned in and my cock pressed against her wet slit. So fucking wet. I went as slow as I could, fighting the urge to ram balls-deep into her. One excruciatingly exquisite inch and then another. Only seconds had passed, but it felt like hours before her pussy sheathed
my whole cock like a tight glove.

  Some sliver of conscience tried to poke through, warning me I might be pushing her too hard, but she wrapped her legs around me and I was all in.

  “Yours! God, yes, all yours,” she moaned.

  I’d had no idea how much I needed to hear it, but each time the words fell from her lips, they mended the shattered edges of something inside me I hadn’t known had been broken. “Mine,” I proclaimed as I thrust in too hard, too deep, but she only tilted her head back and moaned in ecstasy.

  Too soon, I was close. I wasn’t sure I could slow it down, but she got there fast, too. Her moans turned to cries, and her fingers dug into my shoulders as she hovered on the brink.

  “Yours, always yours,” she screamed, and thank fuck she was already tumbling over the edge because I was done for.

  I rammed in deep as the tight walls of her pussy spasmed around my cock, and then I stilled, deep inside her as I filled her full of my come. She milked every drop before I withdrew and laid down beside her.

  It was several minutes before I could do anything but lie there, but eventually, I drew her up to the pillows with me.

  I probably should have fed her, but she seemed just as content as I was to lie there. What had just happened ran through my mind, and while I should have felt guilty as fuck—not only for what I’d done but for how much I’d enjoyed it—I didn’t. Good or bad—probably bad—I felt like me.

  Her body was slack against mine, and her breathing quickly slowed to the steady rise and fall of sleep. I debated joining her, but as sated as my body was, my mind was still sparked up, revelling in its fucked up victory. Thanks to the high, there was no way I was falling asleep anytime soon—maybe ever.