Home > Breaking Free (Masters of the Shadowlands #3)(27)

Breaking Free (Masters of the Shadowlands #3)(27)
Author: Cherise Sinclair

“Yeah. He doesn’t like handing out that much pain, no more than I do. He hasn’t had a good day, so be nice to him, sugar.”

As Beth’s anger disappeared, she leaned back against Sir, enjoying the feel of his strong arms around her. She watched Cullen, and her heart suffered at his silence. Cullen was never quiet. When Deborah disappeared into the house, Beth twisted to look at Sir. “He looks like he needs a hug.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” His arms opened, releasing her.

She crossed the patio to where Cullen stood, staring out at the lake. He seemed so lonely that her chest squeezed. She looked up at him, as always a little startled at his size, even taller than Master Nolan.

He finally realized she was there and turned to face her. His eyes narrowed, and he tilted her chin up. “Little Beth, what’s the matter? Is Nolan being mean to you?”

Typical Dom, able to read her like a book. “Nothing’s wrong. I just came over to give you a hug.” She put her arms around him and gave him the best hug she could. A second later, his arms wrapped around her, and he squeezed back.

She didn’t move, just rested her cheek on his wide chest, and ever so slowly, his muscles relaxed. Eventually, he took a deep breath and released her. “Thank you, love. I needed that more than I can say.” Cupping her face in his huge hands, he kissed the top of her head. “Now go back to Nolan before he digs out his rifle.”

She gave him a smile, pleased to see some of the strain gone from his face. She ran back to where her Master waited for her. He’d get a hug too.

Chapter Eleven

Master Nolan did up a good barbeque, Beth thought, looking down at the grilled steak, baked potato, sweet corn, and salad that he had piled on her plate. And he said he cooked badly. Then again, most guys probably considered grilling as the end to a good hunt, not as cooking.

Once served, the men had settled into chairs near the barbecue, talking comfortably about sports. Beth sighed. Men and their sports.

Kari and Deborah were already seated at their Dom’s feet and looking bored. Beth caught Kari’s gaze and jerked her head toward the other table on the patio.

Kari brightened then frowned, her eyes sliding up at Dan. Permission would have to be obtained, obviously. Hmm.

Beth set her plate on the ground and walked over to Sir. Stopping in midsentence, he raised his eyebrows.

Keeping her face solemn, she knelt on the concrete. “Please, My Liege. Could the subs eat together and indulge in girl-talk? Please, Sire?”

Sir choked on a laugh.

“Damn, Nolan, how’d you accomplish that?” Dan asked. “I can barely get Kari to say master.”

Sir crooked a finger at Beth. When she rose, he pulled her between his knees, his hands massaging her tender bottom as he studied her face. “You’re a dangerous little sub, aren’t you?” he murmured for her ears only. He glanced at Kari. “Sweet and stubborn, the both of you. I can see why you get along.

“All right with you, guys?” Nolan asked. Dan grinned down at Kari and nodded. When Cullen looked at Deborah, she shook her head no.

“Just the two of you then,” Nolan said.

“Really?” Beth asked. “You don’t mind?”

Sir smiled, and his warm gaze made her feel…cherished. “How could I say no when you asked so nicely? Go ahead, sugar.”

Kari and Beth took their food over to the table. As they talked, Beth discovered Kari and Dan hadn’t been together very long, and he’d just moved into her house last week. Hearing how a normal couple—normal BDSM couple not in a full master-slave relationship—lived was an eye-opener. Dan helped out in the kitchen and with the housework.

Kari giggled, telling how after changing the bed linens, Dan had slipped into the master role, stripping Kari naked so he could enjoy her on the clean sheets.

At the thought of Nolan doing that, Beth had barely managed to hide her envy.

After everyone was finished eating, Nolan handed out more drinks and led the way to the second-floor balcony. Back to protocol, the men took chairs, and their subs had blankets at their feet.

The men talked idly, breaking into laughter every now and then. Cullen’s mood had bounced back to normal, and his bellow of laughter probably scared every bird in the neighborhood. But the voice Beth listened for was Sir’s. The sound of his rough voice was…comforting, like there was safety wherever he was. Well, some safety…he certainly had an awful lot of sneaky tricks up his sleeve. She shifted uncomfortably on her blanket. Her bare pussy was sensitive, her abused clit even more so. She glanced up at him with a wry smile, and he caught her gaze. His dark eyes softened as he set his scarred hand on her head and stroked her hair.

Something tugged inside her, a kind of happy recognition, like when she’d been five and wandered too far and walked and walked, and then turned a corner and saw home.

She was happy, she realized. In fact, she’d felt happier today than in…in years. Oh, she got contentment and satisfaction from her work, and pleasure in her growing friendship with Jessica, but being with Nolan was different.

She could really care about him.

And that was just way too risky, but right now, she couldn’t find it in herself to worry. Not with his fingers sliding through her hair, and the scent of him on her skin.

Across the lake, small fireworks flashed in the darkness, a prelude to the big city show. “Not much longer,” Nolan said. “Come here, sugar. Let’s see how good you are at setting off a different kind of fireworks.” He set her on her knees, facing him. With a finger under her chin, he smiled into her eyes and traced a finger over her lips. “I want that soft mouth of yours around my cock.”

She blinked, a little confounded by the bluntness of his request…no, his command. Just like that? With everyone else watching? She tried to turn and look at the others, but his hands prevented it. “Look only at me, sugar. You may begin now.”

Definitely an order, though he hadn’t raised his voice. He never did, she realized. Never had to. Not with that powerful, gravelly voice. Even as she leaned forward to unbutton his jeans, shivers were running through her, and she’d become wet.

She released the last button, and his cock sprang out, thick and long. Her hands stroked over him, the satiny soft skin already tight over the rigid shaft beneath. This time it was her turn to torture him. To please him…

She licked over the round tip, tasted the drop of precum, and swirled her tongue around him. Her first Dom might not have taught her everything about BDSM, but he’d taught her plenty about how to please a man with her mouth. She moved down his cock, taking her time, tracing the big veins with her tongue, setting her teeth ever so lightly at the underside at the base, hearing his slight inhalation. She laved his heavy balls, pulling each one into her mouth to suck gently, tonguing between them before working her way back up his cock. And then, she slid him, hard and fast into her mouth, feeling his jerk of pleasure.

She worked him for a minute using only her lips and tongue until his thigh muscles tensed. Suction then suck and slide. She added her hands at the base, taking a narrow grip, sliding her hands up and down in counterpoint to her mouth. She set up a forceful, driving rhythm and heard him groan, felt him swell under her hands.

Then his hands were on her shoulders, easing her back. “Stop, you little minx. I want to finish inside you.” As she lifted her head, he handed her an opened condom, and she sheathed him, enjoying the small task. She took her time, making sure it was on thoroughly, and feeling for any wrinkles until he groaned again and yanked her right off the ground.

He made her straddle his knees and then pulled her forward. His kiss was hard and demanding, and his hand in her hair kept her from moving. Knowing she was his right now, and he could take his pleasure in any way he wanted, made her hot inside.

His free hand roamed down her body as he kissed her. He played with her breasts, pinching the nipples to spikes. Spreading his legs apart slightly made room for his hand to slide under her. With no warning, he pushed a finger right into her. She gasped at the shock of his entrance, but his hand gripped her hair as he kept her in place. Her tissues were swollen from the play earlier and from her increasing arousal now.

Even as he deepened his kiss, his finger moved in and out of her vagina, and his thumb slid over her clit. His strokes were rough, as demanding as his mouth, and she tightened immediately, clenching around him.

He drew back, chuckling, then picked her up and set her on her feet. “Hands on the rail, sugar, and stay still.” She leaned over and grabbed the hip-high, wrought iron railing. He yanked her hips back toward him, stretching her out, only her hands holding her up. He gently kicked her feet farther apart, opening her. Her breath quickened, and she checked her grip on the railing, expecting him to thrust into her.

Instead, he leaned over, resting his chest against her back. His arm flexed around her hip as he moved his right hand down to cup her mound. His fingers slid through her folds, spreading her wetness over her exquisitely sensitive clit, sending shudders through her body. She was startled when his left hand massaged her buttock. His fingers trailed down her crack and plunged into her vagina. Now both of his hands worked her, front and back.

Her knees started to tremble as increasing need burned through her. One of his fingers withdrew to circle her opening as his other finger circled her clit, never pressing hard enough. The throbbing increased until she couldn’t think, just feel.

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