Burn for You (17 page)

Read Burn for You Online

Authors: Annabel Joseph

Tags: #Romance

Mephisto groaned and spread Molly’s legs even wider with a nudge of his knees. Her little pain-and-lust noises were driving him wild. He noticed with amusement that she was grinding unabashedly against the edge of the mattress now. The insistent swivel of her hips was the perfect complement to the friction of him driving in and out. “Don’t come yet,” he warned her. He could come any time—she turned him on that much—but he’d promised her an ass-reaming and that was what she was going to get. “I’ll tell you when you can come. Don’t come before or you’ll be sorry.”

Ah, sweet little thing wasn’t grinding anymore. Smart slave. He pushed her hands up by the back of her neck, and without instruction she laced them there at her nape. He grabbed her hips and fucked her for long moments...fast, slow, hard, harder, and then gently, sliding in and out so sensually that she gripped every inch. As his slave, she would have to take his cock in her ass whenever the mood struck him, which would be a lot. Best that she get comfortable with that reality.

He fucked her until she started to zone out, and then he let go of her hips and ran his fingers up her back. He grabbed her hands and pinned them to the bed on either side of her head, leaning over her, driving deep. Her wedding rings from Clayton still shone on her finger. It didn’t bother him at all.
Clay, man, I can’t thank you enough for this.
“Are you ready to come with Master’s cock deep in your ass?”

“Yes. Yes, Master!”

She arched back against him and those little hips started bucking and grinding again. He could have helped her, spread her pussy lips and fingered her clit—he knew exactly where to touch her and how hard—but it amused him more to make her work for it, arching helplessly in the space between his hips at her back and the edge of the bed pressed against her front. She started to moan, her ass twitching around his cock. It didn’t seem possible for him to get any harder but in that moment he did. The tingling became a roar, the steady drive a necessity. He slid into her with all the ungoverned desire he felt, bearing her down hard into the bed, and then she was writhing under him, crying out in ecstasy. She clamped down in a rhythmic, powerful orgasm around the base of his cock, and with a howl, he let loose inside her.

Holy fuck. He was going to crush her, but he couldn’t draw back, couldn’t control the impulse to drive in her, to empty out all the excitement and pleasure she built up in him. When his climax subsided, when the blood stopped beating in his ears, he raised himself off her enough to let her take a breath. He was still gripping her hands. He turned one and kissed the palm, then the other, and returned her hands to the bed, where they rested, limp and half open. He pulled out and took off his condom, then returned to find her still sprawled, legs wide open. He nudged against her with one knee.

“Are you alive, or should I notify your next of kin?”

“I am...” She paused. “I am barely alive, Master.” She made a sound that he wanted to remember forever. A thrilled, exhausted, delighted sound. He helped her up and swept her into his arms, just because he wanted to hold her in that moment, clasp all her sweetness and beauty right against his chest. She shrieked and grabbed at his shoulders.

“I won’t drop you, kitten, don’t worry. Although I’m sure you’d land on your feet.”

He took her to the shower and scrubbed her up, allowing her to do the same for him, and then they went to the kitchen to eat and prepare for the night ahead. Mephisto decided he wouldn’t force Molly to appear out in the club, not yet, but he gave her the choice. She decided she would come play for a little while, although she looked uneasy about it.

“Do you not want to come because you think I might play with someone else? Will it bother you if I do?” he asked.

Molly took a long time to answer. “It would bother me terribly, Master, because I’m jealous and I don’t want to share you with anyone. But the choice is yours. If that’s what you need to be happy, I’ll learn to live with it.”

Like the cane. Like the chastity belt in her future, and all the torments he’d dream up for her. She’d live with them because she’d agreed to be his slave. But lucky for her, emotional torture had never been his speed.

“I doubt I’ll take any other slaves for a while,” he said, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I have a feeling you’ll keep me satisfied enough on your own.”

*** *** ***

 

Over the next few weeks, Mephisto’s life sorted into a relaxing, fulfilling balance of work and playing with Molly every chance he got. It wasn’t always easy. At his insistence, she kept up her forays into the outside world, her volunteerism and adventures in self-improvement. She surprised him in her creativity—and her persistence. Her involvement in charities started to rival Clayton’s old habit of really getting in there and trying to improve the world from the ground up. Mephisto found himself attending playground openings, working on Habitat for Humanity sites, and, awkwardly, reading to children at the hospital. Well, he was awkward at it, but Molly was amazing. She spent every Wednesday morning at the pediatric hospital, and all the kids adored her and clambered to sit in her lap, to talk to her and tell her their stories.

Molly would have made a wonderful mother.

Damn Clayton for taking that out of the picture for her. Well, it wasn’t totally out of the picture. They could adopt. They could easily adapt their dynamic to make room in their lives for a child. But when Mephisto tried to talk to Molly about kids, about how good she was with them, hinting at deeper possibilities, she clammed up. It was clearly a sensitive topic for her. He wondered if she regretted getting sterilized for Clayton. Really, Mephisto couldn’t imagine himself as a father, even though he was nearing forty. Eternal hedonist. But if Molly really wanted kids...

Then again, they were barely getting used to being a couple. If they were going to get into conversations about that, it would be better to wait two or three more years. Maybe five years.

But she looked so sweet with those kids.

Aside from her charity work, there were ongoing legal duties she had to attend to, issues having to do with Clayton’s estate. She attended these meetings alone, dressed in her smart little business suits and low heeled pumps. Mephisto didn’t understand how the men who attended these meetings managed not to fall on her and rape her under the table. But they didn’t, so Mephisto fell on her and raped her at home. Well, he didn’t rape her, but he definitely ripped her smart little business suits off with a lot of gusto and fucked her across the floor with her stockinged legs sliding across his back. He never punished her when her smooth leather pumps kicked him involuntarily when she came.

He very simply craved her all the time. He’d wait, counting the moments even as he busied himself with the necessary tasks of running his business. No matter if she returned from the gym, or violin lessons, or some meditation workshop, he was there waiting for her, to strip off her clothes and reclaim her. He shared her with the outside world only reluctantly, but he had to do it because he wouldn’t enjoy Molly’s submission at her own expense.

He questioned her one day about her environmental science degree, asked her if she wanted to use it to go back to work in her field. She didn’t, but she’d already started following environmentally responsible companies and investing heavily in them with Clayton’s money. She did all these powerful and amazing things, his delectable little slave, and then she came home to him and served him, and he knew that service was what fulfilled her most of all.

He wasn’t misguided enough to believe he had anything to do with that, beyond being judged worthy enough to receive her service. Molly’s needs and talents were inborn. Like him, she’d felt a fascination with power exchange long before she understood about relationships and sex. She told him funny stories of tying herself up as a child, forcing herself to wait in a dark closet even though she was afraid.
I’m glad you’re here to do it for me now
, she’d sigh, as he tied her or whipped her. No dark closet, but a cage she spent time in nearly every day. Mephisto knew she’d be perfectly content to sleep in there, but most nights he wanted her with him, so in that, she didn’t get her way.

When it seemed she was sinking into life as his slave quite blissfully, when it seemed a sure, longtime thing, he started searching in earnest for a collar for her. Lorna was his go-to source for leather and harnesses, but for jewelry he turned to his friend Tadpole, a 50ish metalworker gentleman whose amphibious name was never explained. His name didn’t matter. All anyone cared about was that he made the most beautiful jewelry, collars, manacles, and piercings to be found. Mephisto decided he wanted something delicate and decorative for Molly. Something she could wear every day without fielding inappropriate questions, but something with a weight and design that would remind her of her status, and something strong enough to be yanked on when he was feeling that way.

Tadpole finally came up with a stainless steel chain that would be sized to lie just at the base of her neck. It was thick enough to feel heavy, thick enough to provide the needed strength, but still delicate enough to pass for a necklace. On a whim Mephisto added a charm with the letter “M”. Her outside friends and acquaintances would assume it stood for Molly, but Molly would know exactly what it stood for. Master, or Mephisto. Both. He was both things to her and hopefully would be for some time.

Good, she was finally home. He turned to her, taking in her sweet smile, her pretty curls. He didn’t have to tell her what to do by this point. She undressed with just a look from him, went to drop her clothes off in the laundry room. She returned and presented herself to him, chin up, hands at her sides.

“What did you do today, kitten?” he asked.

He half listened to her retelling. Family Center volunteering and lunch with Eliot—cleared with him first, of course. Eliot was apparently applying to law schools, mulling which branch of law he wanted to go into. Not surprisingly, Molly was nudging him toward environmental law. Mephisto thought the hapless man would probably end up doing it, because Molly was hard to say no to, even with her soft voice and self-effacing manner. Anyone who really knew her knew the strength that lied beneath. After that, in the afternoon, spa treatment and waxing. He smiled and palmed her smooth mons.

“What a fun, relaxing day for you,” he murmured.

“Not totally fun, Master. A woman came into the Family Center today. She had been...terribly...” His slave’s voice tensed up, and tears pooled in her eyes. “And she had this…this little girl...”

“Oh, honey.” He pulled her close and embraced her, letting her feel the safety she craved, the safety she wished for everyone. He had a feeling there’d been some very dark days in her own childhood, only because she never, ever talked about her past with him. “It’s good that she came in to get some help,” he said. “Now she and her daughter can be safe.”

“No,” Molly said into his shoulder. “She left her daughter and went back to her husband. She said he loved her, and she loved him. But she worried for her daughter.”

Mephisto just held her. This wasn’t the first sad story she’d told him from the Family Center, and undoubtedly wouldn’t be the last. She pulled back and looked at him. “I’m so thankful for you. That you’re not like that. That I can trust you.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “But I wonder what will end up happening to that little girl.”

He stroked her hair, brushed away the one fat tear that escaped. “With any luck, she’ll find her way to a safe place.”

After a moment, Molly seemed to master her emotions. She forced a smile and held his hand. “Master, I missed you. How can I serve you? I’ve been looking forward to serving you all day.”

He guided her to her knees and unzipped himself. She attended to him with the expertise and attention of a seasoned slave, while he tried not to collapse under the continuous waves of pleasure. She licked and fondled him, taking his cock deep when he grasped the back of her neck. “Yes...yes,” he moaned. “Such a good girl.”

Before he was too far gone, he stopped her, pulled her up and backed her over to medical-play table. He strapped her ankles into the stirrups and forced her thighs wide. He loved to lick her pussy, partly because he knew she hated it and partly because he loved her softness and her taste. “Please, no,” she begged. Molly’s pussy and clit were so sensitive that Mephisto’s teases and nibbles were like a form of torture to her. She wailed when he worked his tongue all around her clitoral hood and lapped at the little button inside. “Master!”

She knew he wouldn’t stop. He never stopped until she was so wrung out and overstimulated that she ceased to fight him, and then he’d part her legs and fuck her until she arched up off the table and yanked at the cuffs holding her down. Today there was a heightened feel to their joining, a deeper emotion. All this time he’d been preparing to collar her, he knew what he was really preparing for was sharing the revelation that he loved her, that he’d loved her for ages.

He was completely, desperately in love with her.

“Yes, kitten, yes.”

She reached out for him as climax rolled over both of them. Afterward, lazily, he undid the cuffs and draped her legs over his shoulders, rubbing his hands across her sweet belly, so flat and yet femininely rounded at the same time. Her hips, her breasts, all of her so precious and lovely to him.

He told her over dinner, over chicken parm and salad with his favorite dressing he’d taught her to make. “I think it’s time for us to become a little more permanent,” he said. “I want you to wear my collar. Do you think you’re ready for that?”

Molly gave him her sweet little smile. “I would love that, Master. You honor me so much.”

“No, I love you so much.” There, he’d said it. “I’ve actually loved you forever. A long time, anyway. This is long overdue. So if you’re willing, I’ll put a collar on you this weekend. A nice metal one that will never come off. Would you like that, kitten?”

“Oh, Master.” That was all she had to say, all she seemed capable of saying. From the joy in her eyes, he could tell the answer was yes.

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