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Show Me Baby A Masters of the Shadowlands Novella 1001 Dark Nights 9


  Slowly, he tightened the knots, and her breasts were forced outward, the skin taut. “Very pretty,” he murmured as he tied off the last knot. He took her mouth again in a long wet kiss, even as he caressed her now-tightly squeezed breasts.

  “Lots of toys, but no nipple clamps,” he said. “Must mean these babies are sensitive, doesn’t it?”

  And his damned bondage increased the sensation. Her “um-hmm” of agreement rose into a mew as his fingers circled her swelling nipples.

  “Rainie.” He brushed his knuckle back and forth over her jutting left nipple, sending a sizzle straight to her core. “When I told you to lower your eyes, you disobeyed me. Am I correct?”

  She swallowed and nodded.

  The controlled power in his gaze kept her trapped. “Since it matters so much to you, you may watch me. However—do you want to obey me, Rainie?”

  His question was even. No judgment however she’d answer.

  Did she want to obey him?

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered. She really did.

  “Then I’m going to punish you for the disobedience. Next time, if you don’t agree with my order, you may question me. I might explain or relent. But you will obey. Clear?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Very good.” His fingers closed on her right nipple, squeezing to the point of pain—and over.

  Ow, ow, ow.

  As his fingers continued the pressure, tears burned in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry you have to suffer this,” he murmured, stroking her hair with his free hand. “Breathe past it, sweetling.”

  Even as she inhaled through her nose, the sinking sensation of surrender closed like a wave over her head. He wouldn’t allow disobedience and really would enforce his rules. The knowledge was…devastatingly erotic.

  When his fingers released her, the blood surged into her breast with a sharp influx of relief and pain, and she moaned.

  “Good girl.” Jake licked her sore nipple. The moist heat increased the burn, then eased it. Her heart sped even faster as his tongue curled around the peak.

  On her clit, the peppermint ointment warmed, increasing to a light burning. She squirmed at the influx of sensations.

  He laughed and, with an easy movement, rolled her onto her back in the center of the bed.

  “Jake. Sir!”

  “Shhh.” Smiling, he pushed her legs apart and knelt between them. As if he had all the time in the world, he teased her breasts, kissed her stomach, and took a long study of her pussy.

  She closed her eyes. What a place to look at.

  “The tube said peppermint.” He had a brigand’s grin. “I’ll let you know if they got the flavor right.”

  Oh God, it was her most carnal of fantasies coming true—Jake Sheffield going down on her. A tremor went through Rainie as he lowered his head.

  His breath laved her sensitive tissues, making the peppermint ointment turn both cold and exquisitely hot. “Mmm, pussy and peppermint—great combination.”

  The deliberate brush of his unshaven jaw on her inner thigh made her squeak and jerk. Made him laugh.

  Even as his tongue teased circles around her clit, he slowly pressed a finger into her pussy. Her hips rose, and his free hand held her down.

  She whined an objection.

  “Don’t move, little captive.” He added another finger. “This is my body to enjoy—or to punish.” The threat pushed her to try to obey, even as his fingers explored deeper inside her, wakening every nerve.

  “God,” she moaned.

  “I usually suggest Sir or Master, but I suppose God is adequately respectful.” Her snort made him chuckle. And then he sucked on her clit so forcefully her hips bucked at the thundering pleasure, and every thought drained right out of her mind.

  When he lifted his head, she wanted to yank him back to the position. He licked his lips. “The ointment isn’t as strong as breath strips, but it’s got a good flavor.”

  “Oh well, that’s a relief,” she muttered. Her face felt like it was sunburned, so who was her sarcasm kidding? Knowing she tasted good was a relief.

  “I wouldn’t mind seeing some more squirming from the heat though,” he said thoughtfully. “Next time, if I don’t plan to do oral, I’ll use something harsher—when my mouth won’t be at risk.”

  Harsher? On her pink bits? Her head shook in an involuntary no, and he laughed, then his teeth closed on her clit, ever so gently.

  As his tongue flickered over her trapped nub, an unstoppable tide of pleasure flowed through her. She wiggled, losing her hold on reality, and he pinned her hips and continued using his tongue as a weapon. Pressure built inside her, swirling low in her pelvis.

  The ointment had made her so, so sensitive, and the teasing flicks on her clit kept her moaning as he thrust his fingers in, pulled out, again and again, relentlessly transporting her to a peak from both inside and outside.

  She thought at one point that she was taking too long and tried to move. “Your turn.” When she tried to pull him up to fuck her, he snorted and captured her wrists, holding them against her stomach to pin her down.

  He didn’t even need to speak—his actions showed he’d do—and take—what he wanted. Her head fell back onto the bed.

  And he didn’t lose a beat. His tongue tapped lightly on her increasingly sensitive clit, even as his fingers kept up a steady in and out.

  God, God, God. She was there. Right there. Her muscle strained to the point of pain.

  “Let go, buttercup,” he murmured. “It’s okay.” He traced his tongue over her engorged clit and along the edge of the hood before rubbing ruthlessly.

  Every nerve in her lower half went off as if someone threw a match into a fireworks booth. The zinging and exploding and sparkling spread upward until her whole body shook with the climax.

  “Fuck, I love the way you come.”

  Dazedly, she opened her eyes.

  Fingers still deep within her, he watched her intently. A slight smile curved his lips.

  “Sir,” she whispered. His turn. She should—

  “I think you have one more in you.” He lowered his head. His mouth closed around her clit, and he sucked…and rotated his fingers inside her.

  “Aaah.” Another wave of explosions ripped through her.

  When she finally floated down from the vicinity of the ceiling, heat radiated from her skin as if her body’d been in a bonfire. Her heart still thudded enough to jostle her rib cage. “Am I dead?” she whispered.

  “Not yet, wench. However, the ship won’t dock for several hours, and I intend to have my way with you over and over again.” Propped on one elbow, he lazily ran his gaze over her with obvious pleasure. “You might not survive.”

  His lips were tipped up at the corners. Teasing her. Oh God. She heard a sound escape her, the one a prizefighter would make when punched right in the stomach.

  Because…because sex with Master Jake was better than dancing. What had she done? She didn’t need to—want to—know this.

  His regard intensified.

  No. No, no, no. This evening was to be fun. Temporary. A one-night stand. Checking something off her bucket list—not creating an impossible-to-ever-meet memory.

  “Sweetling, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

  Role-play, Rainie. Pirate talk. She hauled in a breath and put her head into the game. “Listen, you scabby-arsed, scurvy-brained…”

  He blinked. “Damn, girl—”

  “…thumb-sucking, syphilitic, slimy scalawag.” She scowled at him. “I’ll never, ever cooperate, no matter what you do to me.”

  “Oh aye, there’s a challenge I’ll take.” He glided his powerful hand up her thigh and his squeeze made clear how strong he was. And just his touch made her core clench in response. “You’ll cooperate…because I won’t give you a choice, wench.”

  Damn, she knew how to make an evening fun, Jake thought as he stripped off his shirt and pants and sheathed himself, enjoying the way she watched him. Her open
appreciation was a delight.

  “On your knees now.”

  “Make me, you bilious, butt-scratching, baboon.”

  “Oh, I will, me buxom beauty.” He rolled her to uncover her ass cheeks and smacked her hard enough to provide adequate incentive.

  By the third swat, she was up on her knees, facing the head of the bed.

  “Now you’re in a nicer position, don’t you think?” With his hand in the soft mass of her hair, he tilted her head back and kissed the pout from her lips. “Say, ‘Yes, me wonderful Captain.’”

  Her eyes lit with laughter and surrender, infinitely pleasing. “Yes, me wonderful Captain.”

  Holding the improvised drapery sling out, he said, “Arms against your sides. Put your head and shoulders through here.

  That got him a worried glower, but she did as he ordered.

  Before she had second thoughts, he slid the sling down her torso to below her breasts. Her lower ribs rested on the fabric. Most of her weight remained on her knees, but the sling supported her upper body. “It’ll hold you, baby.”

  “Sure, it will,” she muttered.

  But when he shoved her legs farther apart, she was forced to trust more of her weight to the drapery swing.

  After a second or two, she realized she couldn’t straighten up…and that the sling had pinned her arms against her sides. She was trapped. “You…you bastard.”

  “My mother insists not.” He rolled to his back and maneuvered himself between her legs until she straddled him with a knee on each side of his hips. Perfect. He liked having a woman on top, but in Rainie’s case, if she were over him on her hands and knees, her breasts would hang too low for him to enjoy. And wouldn’t that be a shame?

  This way, the sling not only gave her some support, but also angled her just right to let him play. A hard-working pirate deserved some fun, after all…and he loved bondage in all its forms.

  He ran the head of his cock over her wet pussy and pushed just inside. The sensation of moist heat shook his control. “Don’t move, me beauty.”

  In open defiance—half for role-playing and half reality—she fought the restraints, trying to get her arms loose, trying to kneel up. She failed. Panting, she glared at him. “You...”

  “You’re stuck, sweetheart,” he said quietly. He smiled into her vulnerable eyes, assessing her. Not afraid, but anxious, definitely. He’d stolen away her ability to control the sex—and they both knew he intended to give her a good fucking.

  “Jake,” she whispered in a plea to be released, but beneath it, loud and clear, was the desire to be taken. Was there anything more enthralling to a Dom than a submissive’s need to be both cherished and ravaged? Than her need to feel safe—and scared.

  “Shhh, you’ll be fine, baby.” He ran his thumb over her soft lips, slowly. Back and forth.

  Her breathing slowed.

  Then he made his voice cruel. Edged. “’Tis a shame, beauty, but I can do whatever I want to you. And I will.” Even as her eyes widened, he curled his fingers around her hips, gripped…and yanked her down onto his cock.

  Her neck arched, her mouth opened in a soundless cry. Fuck, she was slick and hot, and her cunt clenched around him, welcoming him to the heart of her. He held there, letting her adjust to his size.

  Her back had arched, pushing her chest toward him in a pretty invitation. The scarves had made her breasts swollen and taut, so he cupped them and rubbed his thumbs over the nipples.

  She made little whimpering moans, pain and excitement, as he continued stroking the softest of velvety skin. So fucking responsive.

  As her core relaxed slightly, he gripped her hips and moved her up and down on his cock a few times, watching arousal overwhelm her anxiety. Beautiful. Then he pushed her up until the head of his shaft barely remained inside her. Time to add in another element—a submissive’s joy in serving, in making her Dom happy. “Can you show me, baby, how still you can hold? For me?”

  Blinking, she focused on him. She had the prettiest gold-flecked hazel eyes. So vulnerable. Like her body—open to him completely. She swallowed. “Yes, Sir.” After a second, her leg muscles hardened, and she held the position.

  “That’s a girl. Look at me, baby.”

  As he rubbed his palms over her jutting nipples, everything she felt showed.

  She had sensitive breasts—his favorite kind. He spread his fingers over the beautiful mounds and squeezed lightly. Her nipples contracted to adorable nubs as he teased them.

  Her pupils widened until more black than hazel showed. Each inhalation brought him the scent of her musk and her unique spicy fragrance

  As he studied her, he carefully increased the pressure to the edge of pain, learning what it took to pull her to that place where the world faded and to keep her there, piling sensation after sensation onto her pleasure.

  Far before he was ready, her cunt clenched around him like a hot fist, and the insides of her thighs quivered uncontrollably against him.

  “Damn, you’re a delight, sweetheart.” How long had he wanted to see her like this? Be inside her like this? With one hand, he cupped her face, caressing her damp cheek with his thumb. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

  Even though her gaze had gone unfocused, her lips curved.

  “Now, I’m going to take you hard, sweetling,” he said. He gripped her breasts in the most intimate of restraints, hearing the soft whoosh of her inhalation. With one swift move, he shoved his hips up—burying himself to the root.

  Her body shook from the impact, and her hair brushed with feather strokes against his chest. “Oh, God.” Her clear voice had turned to a smoky hoarseness.

  He made his tone stern. “This time, buttercup, I want you to ask before you come.”

  With a tiny nod, she acknowledged his order, and her mouth set into an adorable line of determination.

  Her top half was pinned in the sling, holding her trapped, while he gripped her hips and pistoned into her softness, fast, then slow. Absolute heaven. The burn in his balls grew. The air itself thickened. The slapping of moist flesh blended with the music.

  As her pussy muscles contracted, her whimpering grew louder. “Please. Please.” She tried to lift up, to wiggle. “I need to come.”

  “When I choose.” He refilled his palms with her breasts, preventing her movement, forcing her to take what he gave. What they both wanted.

  Muscle by muscle, her body grew rigid, and her vagina clamped around him. She was panting, quivering with the need to go faster, and so he paused, holding his shaft barely inside to torture them both. “Look at me, sweetling.”

  Her wide eyes glowed in her pink-flushed face. “Pleeeze.” Her voice was almost inaudible.

  He pinched her nipples in the same rhythm as his thrusts had achieved. Her moan made him smile. But enough teasing. She was in a beautiful place—right at the edge—and needed no more stimulation.

  “Come now, baby.” He squeezed the velvety areolas and rolled, even as he thrust in hard and fast.

  She gasped, and her cunt clenched him in a mind-blowing vise of pleasure. And then she was coming, wiggling, spasming, crying—and driving him toward his own climax.

  Like a volcano, the pressure built inside him, squeezing his balls from within, then burning through his shaft in a wrenching eruption of heat and pleasure.

  Slowly, slowly, his heart rate returned to normal. In blessed contentment, he savored the tiny erratic spasms of her easing climax. Her nipples unbunched; her flush lightened.

  Using his abdominal muscles, he sat up far enough to kiss her generous mouth and nip the plump lower lip.

  Her lips curved under his.

  “You make a superb captive,” he said, just to hear her throaty laugh.

  “Sure I am.”

  He shook his head. She really was, and if she thought this was a one-night stand, she was in for a surprise. Smiling slightly, he kissed her again, taking his time, enjoying the feel of her…everywhere.

  You’re not done with me yet, s
weetling.

  After he’d cleaned himself up, he released her. As she cleaned up, he put the room back to rights, then tucked her into her bed. Obviously exhausted, sassy mouth silenced, she merely blinked at him.

  Jake opened the bedroom door and tossed Rhage up onto the bed. As the dog curled up near the footboard, Jake slid in under the covers.

  Rainie gave him a surprised look. “You’re staying?”

  Her lips were generous when he took her mouth. “I am.” She was on her back, and he slid his arm under her head and cupped her closest breast in his other hand. Oh yes, he was going to enjoy the rest of the night. “Pirates do that.”

  She snorted softly. “Of course they do.” Idly, she stroked his upper arm and traced out the tattoo on his deltoid—a V covering a caduceus and winged staff. “That’s a medical insignia, right?”

  “Mmmhmm. Army Veterinary Corp.”

  Her brow wrinkled in perplexity. “The military has veterinarians?”

  “Since World War I, yes.”

  “Well, sure, but back then, they used horses and mules. Now…?”

  “Now the soldiers use dogs.” For bomb sniffing, among other things, and his memories weren’t good. He’d lost friends, both human and canine, in Afghanistan. The ache in his chest and gut made it difficult to inhale.

  Rainie curled her fingers around his arm, the pressure a comfort.

  Don’t be a wimp, Sheffield. He forced his lips to curve up. “We also treated normal pets on bases, did public health work, disease control.” It hadn’t been all heartbreaking.

  “You’re only five years older than me—maybe thirty or thirty-one—so when did you fit in a long education? Doesn’t getting a veterinary degree take time?”

  Now, how did she know his age? She’d obviously asked about him. “I skipped a grade in elementary school and did my bachelor’s in three years. Four years to get the DVM, four of active service. Saxon and I bought the clinic a couple of years ago.”