Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(35)
Author: Cherise Sinclair

Ben wasn’t exactly talkative during sex either, although when he did speak… “Please. Mistress. I’d like to taste more.” “Did you know you’re abso-fucking-lutely gorgeous when you come?” Anne felt her bones begin to melt at just the memory. Too many memories, actually. She’d heard his rough voice in her dreams, felt his hands, his mouth—

Hooting laughter broke into her thoughts.

“How about if Studly Dumbass says something like this?” Gabi hit MUTE on the remote and turned to Kim, beside her on the sectional. “Cum-bucket, brace yourself.”

Kim blinked and leaned away. “What?”

Gabi pretended to unzip her jeans and withdraw an obviously massive cock. The waggle she gave her pretend-erection was truly obscene. In a deep voice, she announced, “My ginormous slit-eyed demon’s gonna invade your pretty pink fortress. Oh yeah, my cunt thumper’s gonna penetrate that cocksocket.”

Cheers filled the room even as Kim made a barfing noise. “You call that better?”

“Well, yeah. Far more imaginative than ‘Ugh, grunt. Ugh. Oh, baby,’ like a caveman.” Gabi punched Kim in the arm. “So, nay-sayer, you’re the female in the bed. See if you can do better.”

Kim studied the television where the actor was stroking his cock, preparing to do some serious work. “Right.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, oh, oh, look at you. My goodness, your Puff, the One-eyed Dragon is so tall and straight. I am overwhelmed with my womanly lust. My meat curtains are soaked. Fuck my love canal, now.”

The moans around the room almost matched those starting on the screen.

“Meat curtains?” Farther down the sectional, Linda stared at Kim in disbelief, turned to Sally. “Wooman, I need a really big drink.” She waved a hand a Gabi. “One that’s bigger than that cock.”

Shoulders shaking, Sally headed for the kitchen. “Coming right up.”

Several hours later, butt still on the floor, Anne leaned her shoulders back against the couch. The noise level hadn’t abated, although fewer guests were in the room. Jessica and Kari had gone home to their children. Andrea had a cleaning job to see to; Cat had to go to work early. Jake had picked up Rainie and Gabi, leaving only Uzuri, Sally, Kim, Beth, Olivia, and Linda.

Laughter and conversation flowed around her, as cheerful as the bright helium balloons bopping on the high ceiling.

What a wonderful way to survive turning thirty-five. And how cleverly Sally had laid the trap. No wonder Galen and Vance were always half-complaining, half-boasting about how sneaky their fun-loving submissive was.

Anne rubbed her arm against Olivia’s, happiness a glow inside her as she glanced around the room. At one time, she hadn’t thought she could be friends with submissives. But, somehow, with these women, the Mistress-submissive dynamic had eroded over the years. She smiled. The last reserves had disappeared as she taught the Shadowkittens self-defense. Who could maintain a distance when delivering victory whoops for a subbie who’d finally succeeded in tossing the Mistress on her ass?

Yet—although she’d attended her friends’ birthday parties—she’d never thought they’d throw one for her. But they had.

She wrapped her arms around herself, so filled with the warm ‘n’ fuzzy feelings—as Gabi would say—that she had trouble containing them all.

“Hold’em up, ladies. Who’s empty?” Sally emerged from the kitchen. Holding a pitcher of margaritas, she topped off any needy glass on her way through. “I have another Coke for you, Anne.”

“Thank you, Sally.” She pushed herself up to accept the can, heard an “ooof” from Olivia who sat beside her, and realized her support was the Domme’s stomach. “Oops. Sorry.”

“If you were a subbie, I’d make you regret that. I think you took out my liver—despite the ample padding I have around it,” Olivia said in her crisp voice. Her gaze swept over Anne. “I don’t know how you stay so slender.”

“I still can’t believe she’s thirty-five,” Sally said. “I’ve always wanted a body like yours, Anne. We probably weigh the same and I’m four inches shorter.”

“Try getting a job where you have to keep up with walking, talking testosterone-factories.” Anne held up an arm and flexed her biceps. “But see? I have muscles.”

“Oooo’s” and “aaaaahhhh’s” filled the room.

Her mock-indignant glare had no effect. “I’ll have you know it takes work to maintain all that is me.” She gestured to her lean, mean fighting machine…and earned a barrage of popcorn. “But honestly? It’s only because being slower or weaker would put my teammates at risk.”