Club Shadowlands (Masters of the Shadowlands #1)(18)
Author: Cherise Sinclair

He didn’t even bother to ask her if he was right. He knew he was. “Pretty boring,” she muttered.

“Ah, but under all that control is a wealth of passion and a very soft heart,” he whispered into her ear. “Not boring at all.”

Okay… That was okay then. Satisfied, she snuggled closer into his arms.

She was just full of surprises, Zachary thought, enjoying the feel of her ass in his hands. He wouldn’t have dreamed she’d have an exhibitionistic bone in her body, let alone an interest in ménage. He’d enjoy exploring those pursuits with her further.

An accountant. He smiled into her hair, no longer vanilla scented but lightly floral. No heavy perfumes for Jessica. A thought came to him, and he asked, “Do you own anything besides suits?”

She gave him a disgruntled look. “I have a couple of dresses.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. Office attire. But I have jeans too.”

“Now that I’d like to see.” That curvy ass would look fine in tight jeans. It certainly looked fine in the negligee. The V of the skirt offered flashes of her butt, something he doubted she realized.

The music ended, and the next song started, a fast one for the younger members. Tucking an arm around her, he noticed again how nicely she fit against him.

Maybe she should have a sample of one of her new interests. “It’s a nice night out; let me show you the side yard.”

* * * * *

The grass was cool against her bare feet, the warm tropical air scented with night-blooming jasmine. Sir led her away from the door, weaving through tall bushes. Soft lights illuminated the fountains scattered here and there, leaving pools of darkness. The landscaping formed small, secluded areas where Jessica caught glimpses of bare skin in one, heard a low moan from another.

She bit her lip and glanced at Sir. This was just a tour, wasn’t it? She’d been anticipating a visit to that little bedroom again; surely they’d be going back there, wouldn’t they?

“Ah,” Sir said in a low voice. “I think you’ll like this spot.” He turned into a small area, not as secluded as some, she noticed uneasily. A tiny fountain on one side gurgled like a rocky stream, glimmering with a golden light. On the other side was a long, cushioned bench… No, she realized, a swing, hanging from the huge live oak behind it.

Master Z sat down on the swing. “I’d like you on my lap, pet.” And he grasped her around the waist and lifted. “Bend your knees,” he said and placed her on her knees, straddling his legs.

“Relax,” he murmured, waiting until she lowered her bottom onto his thighs. Smiling, he set the swing in motion then pulled her forward into a kiss.

His mouth slanted over hers, his lips firm and demanding, and she felt herself start down that slide into arousal. When his hand cupped the back of her head, holding her in place for his kiss, her insides melted like hot butter. God, he could kiss.

She would have been happy kissing forever, but she felt his hand behind her neck. Her halter top dropped away, exposing her breasts.

“Hey!” She grabbed the fabric to hold against her. “There are people out here,” she whispered frantically. “Don’t do that.”

He sighed audibly. “Little sub, give me your wrist.” He held out one hand.

“Sir.” It sounded like a whine even to her. She closed her mouth against further protest and set her hand in his.

Without even looking, he snapped her wrist cuff to the wire of the swing behind his left shoulder, then did the same with her other wrist on his right. She pulled back, started to move her legs.

“No, kitten. If you move your legs, I’ll strap them down.”

She froze.

“Very nice. Just where I want you,” he murmured, cupping her breasts in his warm hands, his thumbs rubbing her nipples.

She could feel the growing dampness between her legs. With gentle hands, he lifted her slightly higher and took one nipple in his mouth. Her fingers curled around the back of the swing as he sucked. Sensation jolted through her. She tried to listen for people coming, but his mouth was so insistent, and when his teeth closed gently on the tip, she sucked in a breath at the exquisite pain-pleasure. Her pussy had started throbbing, and she barely refrained from rubbing herself on his leg.

He lifted his head, his eyes dark in the shadows. Watching her face, he reached under her skirt to stroke between her legs. “Lift your hips up,” he told her, his hand pressing upward against her mound, the pressure electrifying.

As she raised herself slightly, he tugged her G-string off one hip and moved the crotch to one side. She almost moaned when he slid his finger through her wetness and started playing with her clit. His fingers were firm, then soft, sliding up and down, and everything in her focused on that spot. And then he took a nipple into his mouth, sucking urgently, his tongue rubbing the nub against the roof of his mouth. She jerked as too many sensations flooded through her, as everything in her tightened, waiting, nearing —

When he moved his fingers, she whimpered at the loss, at the unfilled need searing through her.

“Shhh, kitten.” He covered himself with a condom from his pocket. Grasping her hips, his powerful hands lifted her higher until she was balanced on her knees. He slid his hard, thick cock into her and yanked her down until he was buried inside her, filling her to bursting. Her cry shocked her and brought her back to sanity. God, there were people around.

“What if someone comes past?” she hissed, freezing, resisting his hands on her hips. People seeing them… The thought was horrifying and oddly exciting.

He leaned his head back on the swing, the set of his jaw stern. “Listen closely, pet. If you cooperate nicely, then they’ll just see you sitting here. If you continue to ignore me, they’ll see you naked on your back on the lawn, with your legs on my shoulders and me inside you.”

The image made her shiver in embarrassment, yet sent another roll of heat through her, and he could tell.

His grin flashed. “Kitten, you never fail to surprise me,” he murmured, laughter in his voice. He started to reach back for the cuffs. He wouldn’t, would he?

She jerked upward on his cock, the feeling of his sliding within her so erotic, she moaned before whispering, “I’m sorry. Stay on the swing. Please, Sir.”

He chuckled, putting his hands back on her hips. He lifted her — and this time she didn’t resist — upward until his cock was almost out and then slammed her back down on him, his shaft thick within her, her pussy clenching at the sensation. Up and down, his hands hard on her hips, the pace unrelenting. Her world narrowed to the overwhelming pleasure of him moving inside her as each merciless thrust sent her closer to the edge.

Somewhere she could hear voices, knew they could hear the slap of flesh, the creak of the swing, and she shuddered. His hands tightened on her hips, not letting her slow. Moaning, she closed her fingers around the back of the swing.

And then he leaned her forward and took her nipple in his hot mouth, sucking hard. Angled forward, her next downward movement slid her sensitive, engorged clit across his hard pelvis, and with a set of screams, she broke under the waves of pleasure, bucking against him uncontrollably. Her pussy rippled and contracted around his hard length, setting off his own orgasm, and his hands dug into her hips as he ground himself against her.

Her head bowed as her body went limp. He balanced her with one hand. “Hold on, little one, while I release you.”

A second later, unrestrained, she sank forward onto his chest, trembling with aftershocks. Every time the swing rocked, his cock moved inside her, and her insides convulsed again. He kissed her hair, holding her in the way she was coming to love, with his arms firm and tight around her.

“Let me up for a moment, kitten,” he said eventually. After disposing of the condom in a concealed receptacle, he resettled her on his lap with her legs together on one side. The swing moved gently; they simply rocked for a while. The fountain gurgled. Footsteps and murmurs came from people walking past their secluded nook.

The air was soft on her bare shoulders, his hand warm as he stroked her breasts. Breasts — she stiffened. Her halter was still loose. Her fingers closed on the material, and then she hesitated, glancing up at him. His lips quirked, and his hand didn’t move from her breast. Dammit.

“Compared to what someone saw a few minutes ago, this is nothing.”

Those people — Oh God. “Why didn’t you stop?” She glared at him.

He tilted her chin up. “Because you heard them too, and it only added to your climax.”

With a moan, she hid her face in his shoulder. “What is wrong with me?”

“Absolutely nothing.” He let her snuggle back against him. “Each person is different when it comes to exhibitionism. And you knew they’d only get a quick glimpse of what we were doing.”

“What about you?” she asked after a minute.

He stroked her hair. “Oddly enough, I don’t care one way or another. But a Dom’s responsibilities include exploring your needs, both the desires you know about and those you haven’t experienced. I think, someday, you might well enjoy being on display –”

She started to protest then remembered the naked woman on the St. Andrew’s cross, up there for everyone to see, and felt the slow slide of heat through her.