Hot, Rich and Dominant 5 - No More Secrets Page 4

  He sighed. “I just needed to heal. People wanted to know why we’d broken up, and neither of us wanted to talk about it. She kept going to the club, but I needed a break from the whole lifestyle. I stayed away. She moved to Australia over a year ago, or so I heard. But by that point, I was used to not doing D/s. This weekend was the first time I’ve been to the club since Callie.”

  “Thank you for telling me,” I said softly. “If I brought back bad memories, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s natural that you’re curious.” He kissed my forehead gently. “I’d tell you more, but it’s not something I want to relive.”

  I nodded. “It’s okay. One more question, though...”

  Marc waited.

  “What did you do to piss off the bartender at the club?”

  He broke into an all-out grin. “Oh, that. I introduced Dmitri to Helen. Tim had his eye on her, and he blames me for him missing his chance.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Seriously? Why would he be pissed at you and not Dmitri?”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea. But he’s hated me for years. Nothing I can do about it.”

  “Guess even well-liked Doms have their enemies, huh?” I teased.

  “Guess they do.” Marc pulled me into his lap, encouraging me to straddle his waist. “But they also have beautiful, smart submissives who wear way too much clothing for their liking...”

  I giggled as he pulled off my shirt. “Sir! Here? Anyone could walk in at any moment!”

  “Anyone can walk in, sit down and watch, for all I care.” He unclipped my bra and discarded it, then cupped my breasts in his hands. “All that matters is that you do as I say, Eleanor. Or do you have a safeword you want to use?”

  “No, Sir,” I whispered, pushing into his hands as he stroked his palms over my nipples.

  “Good girl.” He leaned in to lick one of the hardening peaks, so softly that I groaned and arched against him, seeking more. “Remember what you said to me last night about wanting to be in Anna’s place?”

  My lust-fogged brain was slow to catch on, but Marc dug into his pocket and brought out a pair of shiny silver nipple clamps. “Oh...” I managed, unsure whether I was terrified or excited.

  Marc rolled my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, teasing, then pinching gently, then harder. I wriggled against his growing erection, hoping he’d let me get away with it. Surprisingly, he did, bucking up against me. “Ask me for the clamps, Eleanor.”

  Was I really about to ask for something I knew would hurt that much? “Please, Sir, would you clamp my nipples?”

  Marc laughed softly, approval and heat in his dark eyes. “So polite.”

  I stayed still and screwed my eyes shut, anticipating the clamp’s bite at any second. Marc didn’t go ahead with it, though, and I cracked my eyes back open to find out why.

  He was gazing up at me thoughtfully, and when he registered that I was looking at him, he cupped my jaw in his hand. “You really are something, my sub.” He pulled me down into a slow, fiery kiss that made me tremble and stole my breath.

  “On the floor,” he ordered as he broke away. “Get on your knees for your Master.”

  I smiled and slid off his lap. I’d figured out not long after the start of our relationship that being called ‘Master’ was a huge turn-on for him. He’d told me he planned to collar me officially, but so far hadn’t made good on that promise. The more he referred to himself as my Master, the more reassured I was that he hadn’t forgotten.

  “Tell me if this is too tight.” Marc rolled my nipple in his fingers one more time, peaking the sensitive nub even further, and then slid a clamp onto the titbit of flesh.

  I gasped as he tightened it, the pinching sensation almost too much to bear, but just as I was about to call ‘yellow’ he loosened the clamp slightly, and I could breathe again. Kind of.

  “Good girl. Thank me for the clamp.”

  “Thank you, Master, for hurting me so nicely,” I said mischievously.

  Marc flicked the clip in response, and I gasped at the flare of pain that shot through my body. “Cheeky. Watch yourself, Eleanor.”

  I decided to zip it for a while.

  “Now the other.” He teased my other nipple, almost making me forget about the unrelenting pressure squeezing the right one, before adding the second clamp and eliciting another gasp from me. He waited a second before loosening the clamp so its pressure just about matched the first. “Thank me again.”

  I breathed deeply, adjusting to the sensation, and said, “Thank you, Master, for the clamps.”

  Marc nodded approval and sat back to study me. “Put your legs out in front of you and lean back on your hands.”

  I got into the position he’d asked of me, and was unsurprised when his next order was, “Spread those legs for me.”

  I was wearing a short skirt—more clubwear than something I’d usually wear around the house, but Marc had told me he wanted access to my bruised ass at all times—and he wasn’t letting me wear panties either. I spread my legs wider and waited, my breathing unsteady.

  “You look amazing in the one I gave you, but I think once I collar you properly, I want one that will lock around that lovely throat and make it very clear to you who owns you.”

  I closed my eyes, imagining it. A collar only he could remove—the image was so powerful that it took me by surprise.

  “How deep into this could we get, I wonder?” Marc joined me on the floor, leaning over between my legs to kiss me.

  His chest brushed against the clamps on my tender nipples, and I gasped into his mouth. He nipped at my bottom lip, then sat back as I resisted the urge to tear off the pinching implements.

  “How deep into submission could I take you? Would you let me be your Master for every moment of every day, control everything you do?” He grinned just as I began to get anxious. “Somehow I doubt it. There’s just too much independence in there, isn’t there?”

  I nodded, relieved.

  “How about a full day as Eleanor? A weekend, maybe? A week?”

  “I can try, Sir.” It was all I could promise him. It scared me to think about, mainly because when I lost myself in submission, nothing else mattered and I sometimes wondered if I could lose my way permanently, forget who I was and just obey forever. It was a silly fear, but something that kept recurring.

  “It’s all I ask.” He beckoned to me. “Remember what I asked you to do the night of our first date?”

  I tried to suppress a smile. “You asked for a lot of things, Sir.”

  “And you gave them to me so beautifully,” he agreed, and pulled me to my feet, careful not to agitate the clamps. “But I was talking about ordering you to undress me.”

  I smiled, remembering. “Of course, Sir.”

  “I’m asking again now. Undress me, Eleanor, so I can fuck you senseless.”

  Trembling with anticipation, I stepped in closer to him and pulled up the hem of his muscle-hugging black shirt. He helped me to get it over his head, emerging from the soft cloth with tousled hair and an expression of pure hedonism. I couldn’t resist sucking one of his small, flat nipples into my mouth, teasing it gently with my tongue.

  He growled and grabbed me by the hips. “Did I tell you to stop undressing me, my sub?”

  “No, Sir. Sorry.” I wasn’t particularly sorry, and he knew it. A quick flick of each of my nipple clamps followed, and I whimpered at the speedy punishment as fire flared through my breasts.

  “Now you’re sorry. Continue.”

  I unbuckled his belt and made quick work of his jeans, tugging them down over his hips and past his knees so he could kick them off. In the process, I ended up kneeling in front of his impressive erection, which had probably been his intent all along.

  His eyes darkened with lust as he gazed down at my kneeling form. “It’s so tempting to give you a certain order right now, Eleanor. I’m sure you know that.”

  I could barely take my eyes off the thick, hard cock in front of my face. I
wanted to take him in my mouth so badly it hurt, wanted to feel his body ripple with subtle pleasure as he buried his hands in my hair and encouraged me with a soft groan. I held still with an effort, my pussy crying out for stimulation.

  “You really do test my self-control. Suck me.”

  I moved in eagerly, licking his cock from the base to the tip in one long motion. Marc’s breath caught as I closed my lips around him, flicking my tongue against the sensitive spot just below the ridge of the head.

  I worshipped his cock with my mouth, taking him deep one moment, then easing back the next, gently rolling his balls in one hand until his knees began to give out. With a low growl, he fisted his hand in my hair and pulled me back from my task. “Enough for now.”

  He lowered himself to the floor beside me and lay down on the soft, thick carpet. “Come and ride me, Eleanor. I want to see how you move with the clamps on.”

  I straddled him immediately, humming with pleasure as I caressed his warm, firm cock with one hand. Marc sighed as I positioned him at my entrance and took him in slowly, rocking my hips to slide him farther inside with each thrust.

  “God,” he murmured, gripping my hips tightly. “You take my breath away every time you do that.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” I whispered, rising enough that only the very tip of his cock remained inside me, then slipping back down with a soft sigh. “Please use me for your pleasure?”

  He smiled and gripped my hips, knowing exactly what I wanted. As I rose up again, he took control from me, slamming me back down on his shaft and making me gasp out with pleasurable shock. Once more, I rose up, and again he yanked me down, sheathing himself inside me fully. We fell into a primal rhythm as I rode him hard, helped by his brute strength. Pleasure built steadily to a fiery intensity that made my muscles tense and quiver. “Oh my god—oh, my...”

  Marc took one hand from where he was holding my hip, and before I’d figured out what he’d planned to do, he’d pulled off the nipple clamp. Blood rushed back into the compressed, sensitive tissue, reawakening nerves that had almost grown used to the clamp’s presence. The pain was intense, and I almost screamed, the sensation pushing me over the brink into a fierce, fast orgasm.

  Tears in my eyes, I tried to recover, but the pulse throbbing in my abused nipple was as strong as the one beating between my thighs as Marc continued to buck up into me. Impossibly, despite the agony I was going through, my body was coiling, tightening, priming for another orgasm, and I knew Marc planned to drive me to it in the same way as he had the first. “Oh, no. No, no, no—”

  He pulled off the other clamp and I shuddered with pained pleasure, bringing my hand up to protect my newly freed nipples as I sobbed, tears streaming down my cheeks. My pussy betrayed me, squeezing into another intense orgasm that sent my head spinning. It was too much to process, and I collapsed onto Marc’s chest, riding shockwaves of agony and ecstasy.

  He pounded up into me a couple more times and came with a muffled curse against my shoulder, arching his back and digging his short fingernails into my shoulders.

  A few moments passed before he rolled me over and pulled out of me. I was shaking and a little spaced out in the aftermath of my pleasure, and he immediately noticed. “Come here, beautiful.”

  He lifted me into his arms and took me over to the couch, to sit with me in his lap. I buried my head in his neck and concentrated on breathing, my nipples still aching as they recovered from the clamps’ compression.

  He stroked my hair, holding me tightly against him. For a while, neither of us spoke, and gradually I began to surface from the headspace I’d been in.

  As my thoughts cleared, something began to nag at me. “Sir?”

  “Hmm?”

  I frowned up at him. “If I have a collar that locks, how will I take it off for work?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I want you to wear it at work. Make it clear to everyone in the office who owns you…”

  Although my body thrilled at the possessive look on his face, my mind didn’t buy it for a second. “You care more about my reputation than you do mine, Sir. You wouldn’t do that to me.”

  His lips twitched as he fought a smile. “You know me so well, my sub. But it’s fun to think about.” His expression became more serious as he traced the play collar around my throat. “Just give me a week or so more to finish up this project at work, and we’ll talk about a formal collaring.”

  Something about the mysterious ‘project’ he’d been working on for the past couple of months didn’t sit well with me. He always got touchy when I asked him for more details about it. But the idea of a formal collaring was too exciting to ruin with questions about work. I met Marc’s lingering kiss eagerly, letting him drive everything but his ownership of me out of my mind.

  Chapter Four

  Dear Diary,

  I’ve been driving myself crazy since I learned about Callie, trying to figure out what could possibly have come between her and Marc that he doesn’t want to talk about. It’s really none of my business, and I should just concentrate on what’s happening between the two of us, but every now and then it comes to the front of my mind and I start musing over it again.

  Whatever it is, it seems to make Marc really sad, even now. Maybe he got Callie pregnant and she lost the child or had to have an abortion for some reason, and it tore them apart. Maybe she couldn’t deal with him having way more money than she did, and it came between them. God knows I still feel awkward about that when Marc buys me something outrageously expensive.

  At least I’ll have something new to worry about this weekend—Marc’s sister, Serena, is home from her stay in Europe, and he wants me to meet her. I wonder if he told her I was scared she was Marc’s other woman? God, that might be embarrassing…

  * * * *

  “Something’s up,” Stella told me as I walked into the conference room, a notebook under my arm and a cup of coffee in each hand.

  After glancing at the clock—we were due to meet with Marc and a couple of people from other departments in a few minutes, but none of them had arrived yet—I approached her and carefully set one of the cups down in front of her. “Something like what?”

  My supervisor tucked a wave of purplish-red hair behind her ear and adjusted her glasses before picking up her cup. “I’m not sure, but I have a sixth sense for these things. Last time I felt like this, there was a big shake-up with one of the subsidiaries we’d been planning to take over, and the deal fell through. I just get the feeling something’s about to go horribly, horribly wrong…”

  Thinking of Marc’s project, I suppressed a shudder. Stella didn’t even know about that—not that I really did—so she couldn’t be having a bad feeling about that. “Just as long as we still have jobs and don’t have to take pay cuts when it happens, I think we can handle it,” I said lightly.

  “Who’s taking a pay cut?” A guy I vaguely recognised walked in and took a seat farther down the table. I really hoped he’d be reintroduced to me before I had to interact much with him.

  “No one, I hope.” Stella blew on her coffee delicately. “I just think something big’s about to happen in the company.”

  “Don’t worry, she gets like this every six months or so.” The man winked at me conspiratorially.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Stella said. “Nell, you’ve met Richard from the finance department, right?”

  Thank you, Stella!

  While we chatted idly, waiting for the last few people to arrive, I flipped through my notepad to a clean page and scribbled down the date of the meeting and the attendees’ names.

  “Sorry we’re late.”

  My heart leapt at the sound of Marc’s voice, and I tried to keep a casually friendly demeanour in place rather than melting and kneeling at his feet. He took a seat at the head of the table—I ‘just happened’ to be sitting one place down from him—and Grace from public relations and Lance the media liaison brought up the rear to settle themselves in at the other e
nd.

  Once everyone was seated in the air-conditioned, fluorescently lit room, Marc looked around at all of us. “How are we doing? Ready for the launch in two weeks?”

  Stella and I looked at each other nervously. It was our work that would be ‘launched’—the new anti-vivisection branding of the household and cosmetic goods produced by our multitude of subsidiary companies. As I’d found out over the past couple of months, as we’d toiled over how we could introduce the new animal-friendly stance to each product in each line, the Cassidy Corporation had its fingers in practically every pie out there.

  “We hope so,” Stella answered for the pair of us.

  “Please, God,” I added, drawing amused reactions from everyone else.

  “Rich? Are we still on budget?”

  The meeting got underway, and I was in the middle of scribbling down something I’d need to check on later when a foot brushed my calf under the table. Startled, I misspelt a word, scribbled it out and rewrote it before casting a sideways glance at Marc.

  He was watching Grace, who was talking about the positive reaction she hoped to draw from various activist groups against animal testing, but although his focus looked absolute, the teasing rub of his shoe against my ankle continued.

  Feeling as though the entire group could see that we were playing footsie under the table, I shifted in the chair so that my leg was closer to his, pressing our knees together in the process. I tried to listen to what Grace was saying, but every caress of his foot against my leg felt as if it were against an erogenous zone. I pretended to be engrossed in the notes I’d already taken, hoping no one would need anything of me while this was going on.

  The focus of the meeting shifted back to Richard as my imagination ran away with me, to what Marc could do with me if we were alone in the room right then. Heat gathered between my thighs, and I made a concerted effort not to wriggle.