Authors: Maren Smith
“Yes, I do.” He looked at her as if he could feel that reluctant inner shiver that rolled down her spine into the back of her legs, making her knees wobble. He smiled, but it seemed a little less genuine, a little more practiced, significantly more calculating. He faced her, closing what precious little space separated them, and her throat closed, strangling her when he slipped the heat of his hand beneath her folded arms and lay his palm upon the vipers’ nest her stomach had become. There was no way he could not feel the knotted nerves coiling inside her, tying her up from the inside out, writhing right there just under his burning palm.
“What do you want me to give you, Red?” he asked, his silken tone as smooth as the devil’s.
“Nothing,” she quavered, lost in those dark eyes, helpless to resist the heat of the hand slipping down the front of her dress.
“Are you sure?” His fingers slipped under the short baby-doll hem. Skin on skin, he stoked the trembling plane of her abdomen, following the elastic line of her underwear.
“Yes,” she mouthed, that single shivering word completely without sound or conviction.
His fingertips slipped right under the elastic band. “Liar.”
Her knees really did wobble then, dipping once before she caught herself, stiffening as he skimmed soft, swirling caresses over the curve of her mons until he had her. His hand cupped her pussy, his fingertips stroking along her folds, already finding them swollen and slick.
“You know what happens to naughty little girls who tell naughty little lies, don’t you?” His voice was every bit as seductive as his touch. Withdrawing his hand, his fingers reemerged out from under her dress, glistening with the proof of her unwilling arousal. He licked one, testing her taste, as if it wasn’t at all shameful to do it right here, surrounded by all these people, in full sight of anyone who cared to look.
Right in front of her, in fact.
“Just like heaven,” he said, his tone deepening with an arousal all his own. “Come with me, Red. We’ll notch each other’s bedposts.”
The temptation was almost more than she could resist. She might actually have done it too, except that right then music began to play. Not a familiar bridal march, but the light twinkling notes of “Pop Goes the Weasel” played out at the very front of the room by a master on piano.
Selena began to laugh and bounced on her toes when Master Marshall, accompanied by a tall blonde man, made his way to the front of all these chairs. Beckoning to Chelsea, Selena didn’t wait to be summoned. With a happy hop, she rushed to take her position in the center of the floor, heralding laughter from many of the guests as she waited eagerly for her new husband to join her there.
Trembling under the intensity of Kade’s eyes, unable to tear her own from the wetness (her wetness) on his sensual lips, Chelsea was barely able to break away. Before she could flee, Kade caught her hand, capturing her as completely as if with a net. He raised her fingers to his lips, caressing the backs with a kiss before letting her go.
“Run away, Red. While I can still let you go.
”
Chelsea fled to the front of the room, taking her place in line between Sara and Hannah, who caught her hand when she noticed Chelsea’s trembling and gave it a comforting squeeze.
“It’s okay,” Hannah whispered. “I don’t like crowds either. And I hate this dress. Everyone keeps looking at my scars.”
Chelsea glanced down at her thighs and the rows of near, straight lines that scarred them, but she was barely aware of anything beyond Kade, who was approaching behind her, calmly making his way to the front of the room to assemble with nine other masters. Some, like Jackson, she knew; some she didn’t. She hugged Hannah’s hand and locked her eyes on Selena. It was the only way she could keep herself from staring at Kade the same way he just kept staring at her, as if she was his and all he had to do was bide his time until he could take her.
“As most already know,” Master Marshall began, his strong voice silencing both the music and what little chitchat was still taking place among the gathered guests, “the actual wedding was performed two days ago. Today, we are here to witness the confirmation of Master Emerson’s dedication to his baby-girl and submissive, Selena.”
Her hands clasped over her heart, Selena bounced on her toes. She was blushing and could hardly hold still as the tall blond man stepped up to her. Without being told, she dropped to her knees at his feet and his gentle smile broadened.
“I have already promised to love, honor and cherish you,” Master Emerson said, his voice carrying easily through the now silent room. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a blue ribbon. “Selena Emerson, you are the focus of my life. I will hold to you beyond all others and put no one else before you. Will you accept me as your Daddy and your Dom?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
“Will you obey me and wear my collar?”
“Yes!” Even on her knees she was bouncing.
“Will you accept my discipline, guidance, protection and my loving authority to the exclusion of all others? Because I will not share you. Not with anyone, ever.”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Another soft wave of laughter rippled through the assemblage. Master Emerson was laughing too as he bent and put the ribbon-collar around her neck. As hard as Chelsea tried, she could not resist the pull of Kade’s continuing stare. He was the only one not watching the ceremony. He met her gaze boldly and never looked away. He barely seemed to blink. He very deliberately licked his lips, as if he could still taste her on them.
Chelsea stopped breathing all over again. She quickly faced Selena and tried not to look away as her Daddy fastened the clasp behind her neck. Selena squealed once it was in place, petting it with both hands as if it were the most reverent thing. She looked on the verge of happy tears.
When Master Emerson offered his hand, she clasped it in both of hers, joyfully pressing kisses first upon the back and then in his palm, turning it so she could press her cheek into it. As far as weddings went, it was hands-down the strangest and yet one of the most touching Chelsea had ever been a part of.
“Welcome to the fold,” Master Marshall told Selena once her husband had raised her to her feet.
Beside her, Sara sniffed, swiping her wrist across her eyes. Crying at weddings was hardly unusual, but when Chelsea glanced at her, unlike Selena’s, these were not happy tears.
“Are you all right?” Chelsea whispered, wanting so much to take her hand and offer comfort.
Sara nodded, but she also averted her face, hiding her tears, though not from Chelsea. From the line of masters across the stage, Jackson had noticed her expression and he was frowning.
Unable to help it, Chelsea slipped her hand around Sara’s and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered reassuringly.
Sara glanced back at her, her startled laugh dissolving into a choke of despair. “No, it won’t. You don’t understand.”
‘I’m sorry,’ was right at the tip of Chelsea’s tongue but she never got the chance to say it. Covering her mouth, Sara jerked out of line and fled the hall. The ceremony was over, the guests had risen from their chairs and were beginning to mingle and drift toward the buffet, but her sudden flight did not go unnoticed.
“Hey, what did you say to her?” Hannah accused, yanking her hand out of Chelsea’s other.
“Nothing. I was just…I didn’t mean…”
Glaring, Hannah ran after Sara.
Chelsea followed only a handful of steps, biting back the urge to call apologies, but a hard clasp on her shoulder suddenly spun her around.
“What the hell did you just say to her?” Jackson accused. Unlike yesterday, he wasn’t smiling and there was nothing light, teasing or friendly about him now. Looming over her like this, he seemed as big as a mountain. Tight, hard and angry, his hands were fisted at his sides. “Answer me, Beth. What did you tell her?”
“N-nothing,” Chelsea stammered.
He loomed even closer, until his dark face and angry scowl were all that she could see. “Don’t you lie to me.”
“I-I-I—” Someone grabbed her arm.
Slapping a hand to Jackson’s chest and shoving, Kade pushed to get between them. “Back off,” he ordered. “Right now.” He was smaller—compared to Jackson, everyone was smaller—but his back was stiff and his body tense, ready to get physical if need be. “I mean it, back off.”
Jackson glared at Chelsea over Kade. His hard mouth tightening, he snapped around on his heel and stalked from the hall after Sara and Hannah.
“I’m sorry,” Chelsea stammered. “I didn’t mean…I honestly didn’t…I was just trying to help. I…”
“It’s fine.” Still holding her arm, Kade continued to watch until Jackson was out of sight. “Part of getting attached to a submissive is that overwhelming urge to protect and defend them. There’s been a lot of that going around lately.”
He said it so derisively.
“But not you?” Chelsea guessed.
Kade looked at her, unsmiling. “I don’t get attached, remember? I’m the fantasy—always ready, willing and available.”
“How awful for you.” She said it so sincerely, without any hint of the sarcasm she’d been striving for.
Something she wasn’t sure how to read moved through his dark eyes before they narrowed. “You think it really is?” he asked, that well-practiced and carefully crafted smile of seduction twisting at his mouth as he turned to face her.
Having put her foot in it enough for one day, Chelsea tried to pull away, but Kade wasn’t inclined to let go of her arm.
“Look at me,” he coaxed, pulling her right back to him.
She looked everywhere but, until he shifted his grip to her wrist, pinning it with two fingers pressed lightly over her pulse.
“Why can’t you look at me?” he demanded. “Your heart rate is quickening. I’ll bet every nerve in your body is humming for my touch. I’ll bet your skin is reliving the sensation in every place where I already did. Tell me, Red, are your knees shaking? Does your stomach knot at the memory of what it felt like when I lay you down beneath me? Are you wondering if I’ll be a soft and gentle lover, or do you desire something rougher? Shall I slap your ass, pull your hair, force you to your hands and knees and take you forcefully from behind? I’ll bet you lay awake last night in the softness of your cold and empty bed, simply aching for me to be there with you.”
“No, actually,” Chelsea interrupted, her voice much sharper than she intended, wishing she didn’t find those images as seductive as she did. “I went straight to my room and took a shower.”
A low, rhythmic throbbing had developed low in the confines of her panties. It refused to be ignored or extinguished, especially when her traitorous body once more sought to feel those phantom caresses from the night before. The images he had evoked weren’t helping, either—her, on hands and knees, with the echo of his first hard slap ringing in her ears and stinging in the eager flesh of her bottom; her, arching back to impale herself on his fingers first and then his cock while he alternately kissed and bit the back of her neck. One fantasy was gentle, the other not so much; yet, both made that heady pulse deepen inside her.
Kade tipped his head, searching for the truth in her eyes. “Did you wash me off your skin, or did you press your fingers where mine had been and finish what we’d started on your own?”
The heat burning in her loins shot outward, moving up through her belly and into her chest, rising up even to burn her face. What had once been a comfortable temperature in the room now felt like a furnace.
His smile broadened. His victorious laugh was little more than breath. “Next time,” he said, his voice as soft as a whisper, “take the showerhead down off the wall, turn it to pulse and put it…right here…” Her body both stiffened and melted when he touched her, boldly now, his finger tapping between her legs just above her throbbing clit. “I promise you’ll cum so hard you see stars. Or, better yet—” He eased closer. At first she thought he was about to kiss her, except that his mouth moved past hers, brushing past her cheek, so close to her ear that she could feel the dragon heat of his exhaling breath as it caressed back through her hair. “—
let me hold it for you.” His lips grazed the lobe of her ear, pressing a heated kiss to the unbearably sensitive place just below it. Her knees tried to buckle, but his arm hooked her waist, pulling her in to the strength and support of his body as he murmured, “Oh no, my beautiful Red. You won’t just see stars then. I’m going to make sure you touch them.”
T
he rest of the confirmation ceremony passed pretty much without complications apart from Chelsea’s own mental malfunctions. While her only job throughout the confirmation had been, as far as she could tell, to stand there and look pretty, afterward the baby-dolls were given chores. Chelsea joined the ladies of the Castle in passing out favors: little keychain sized teddies dressed like either babydolls or black leather-clad bikers. She assumed that meant they were Doms, since that would match the outfits worn by the real life Doms in the room: Master Marshall, the groom…Kade. Sinclair passed out candies while Kaylee set up party games, like a spanking version of spin the bottle and pin the horsetail on the submissive—a game that had no lack of willing submissives once they put away the real pins and brought out horse-tailed anal plugs, all brand new and fresh from the packages—and a game called Suggestion which involved picking little heart-shaped candies from a bowl. Each candy was tied to a tiny slip of paper, which gave whoever had selected it the option of either bowing out of the game or doing whatever suggestion had been provided. Suggestions ranged from the rather mild “Kiss the person on your right” to “Submit to one full minute of group tickle torture” to the downright racy “Let all remaining opponents suck any part of you they wish.” When last Chelsea had checked that side of the room, a girl was lying flat on her back, squealing laughter and shrieking, “I give, I give!” because her only opponent was sucking on her toes.
Dinner was over and the buffet table was being cleared. Fed and happy, guests were beginning to depart, adjourning to other parts of the Castle where their play could be a little less structured and lot more kinky. Little Maids and butlers were coming out of the shadows to help clean up, and through it all Chelsea still felt like a living wire. Her nerves felt electrified, the reason for which continued to prowl the room, never very far away no matter what she did or where she tried to go. Kade. He made everything worse.
She felt hunted by him. Every time she looked up, there he was. His only benefit was that he kept the twins at bay. They only managed to corner her one time and it had brought Kade charging into the conversation before the twins could say more than hello.
“You remember my brother, Travis,” Trevor had said, reaching up with an all too familiar hand to catch a lock of her hair and twine it around his fingers.
That was as far as the reintroductions got before Kade was upon them.
“How badly do you want me to break your hand?” he’d growled.
The brothers both stiffened. Glaring, Trevor took his hand away, and the next thing she knew, Master Marshall was in the middle of it too. He called the twins away.
“I thought you said she was assigned to us,” Chelsea heard one say as the three men walked away.
“I have someone else I’d like you to meet,” Master Marshall replied, casting Kade a single admonishing stare.
Kade pretended not to notice.
“Does this mean you’re assigned to me now?” Chelsea asked.
“Would you rather have them pawing all over you?”
“I don’t particularly want you pawing all over me, either.” Her nerves were raw enough as it was. When Kade’s hand settled in the small of her back, she felt the heat of his touch rocket through her. Her breasts turned heavy and achy with need. The baby-doll dress was made from the softest cloth and yet he turned it into burlap rubbing her nipples raw.
“If that were true, your panties wouldn’t be soaking wet.”
“You wouldn’t know that if you hadn’t put your hand in them,” she accused.
“Ha,” he said, amused, and leaned in close to her again. “There’s the most marvelous wet spot visible in both the front and back of your garment and your dress isn’t long enough to hide it. If you think no one’s been looking,
darling one, think again. You have legs that beg to be stared at, and trust me, people are. Come.”
She balked, unwilling to take more than a step in any direction he was inclined to lead. “Not if it’s going to end in that quiet corner you mentioned earlier.”
“Your defiance is attractive, like a red flag being waved in a Castle filled with bulls. Actually, I was going to take you to dinner. I notice they kept you too busy to enjoy the buffet.”
“Selena invited me to a private supper.”
“How marvelous. I was invited too. As it so happens, that’s exactly where I was going to take you.”
As it turned out, private was a relative term at the Castle. With the butlers and maids left to clean up after the ceremony, Chelsea followed Kade to the main dining hall and through it to a heavy door. It was locked, but Kade had a key and when he opened it for her, Chelsea found herself in a room just off the kitchen. Selena and her new husband were already there, along with a handful of other masters and their ladies.
“You made it!” Selena announced, which briefly focused everyone’s attention on her. “For a moment, I thought I was going to have to send out a search party.”
Kade waved her on to the table while he paused, holding open the door for Kaylee who arrived behind them. Five empty plates had been set out and there were already more people present than there were place settings. The head of the table remained empty with Emerson sitting to its right. Selena was on his lap, but considering their newly married state, that didn’t surprise Chelsea. What did surprise her was Hannah, sitting beside them on the lap of her master, his long hair gathered in a neat ponytail. And Sara perched on Jackson’s lap across the table. Sinclair was beside them, sitting on her man’s lap as well and right across from the chair Kade appropriated for himself.
He looked at her with another of his patented smiles and patted his knee. “Bring that naughty bottom over here, Red.”
Not if her life depended on it.
She looked to the head of the table where the only other empty place setting remained, but Kaylee was already standing there, waiting with a smile for Master Marshall to close the door behind him. The head of the table was obviously his and her hesitation to join Kade did not escape the Master of the Castle.
“Problem?” he asked, pausing beside her on his way to join Kaylee.
Problems meant standing out. Standing out in this crowd meant speculation and she’d already had more of that than she wanted, especially where the Master of the Castle was concerned.
Chelsea sat on Kade’s lap. She felt too tall, too exposed in this dress, and too obvious to everyone who glanced her way that she didn’t belong here among them. And then there was Kade’s hand, which felt way too comfortable when it came to rest on her hip.
“How’s that, Red?” He adjusted her to his liking, and his liking was openly enhanced by her discomfit at being this close to him.
Seating himself at the head of the table, Master Marshall held out his arm to help Kaylee settle upon his lap and asked, “How did you like our little commitment ceremony?”
“I thought it was lovely,” Kaylee offered, reaching out to clasp Selena’s hand.
Bubbling with happiness, Selena bounced on Emerson’s knee. “Thank you!”
“What about you, Chelsea?” Master Marshall asked, his tone so painstakingly neutral that it held all the warning notes of a pointed, suspicious question.
“Don’t pick on her!” Selena protested, earning an immediate swat from her new husband.
“He isn’t picking on her, he’s asking a question,” Emerson said, and followed that with an even sterner, “And you don’t tell a master ‘don’t’.”
She pouted, curling up to lay her head on his shoulder. “It sounded like picking to me.”
It sounded like picking to Chelsea, too.
“Do you want your goodnight spanking to be a good girl spanking, or a bad girl one?”
Her pout growing even more pronounced, Selena tried to diffuse the direction of his thoughts by walking two fingers up his chest and playing with the zipper of his vest.
“Chelsea?” Master Marshall asked, redirecting her attention now as well.
“It was different,” Chelsea offered. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“No?” Marshall asked, unfolding the napkin at his place setting and laying it across Kaylee’s lap. “You haven’t attended the occasional commitment ceremony at the club munches you normally attend? Or do you not attend your local munches?”
What the hell was a munch? And, oh lord, how many of them was she—Beth, rather—supposed to have attended?
Chelsea jumped when she felt Kade’s hand graze her own and she looked down to find he’d just spread a napkin over her lap. It covered her better than her dress did.
“Jumpy,” he commented, his hand on her hip as hot as a brand.
“I feel like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs,” she acknowledged. “I shouldn’t be here.”
Selena’s head snapped up off her husband’s shoulder. “Sure you should! You’re my guest.”
“You don’t belong at the Castle?” Master Marshall asked, those piercing blue eyes of his boring into her. “Or at this table?”
Either would have been honest, but it choked her to admit it. Something told her the less she said to him at this point, the better her chances of not getting caught. He probably had all kinds of telltale answers in that file of Beth’s upstairs.
“A Master at this table asked you a question,” Kade said, giving her hip a warning pat. “A good submissive should answer.”
“Maybe I’m tired of being a good submissive,” she retorted, squirming as his hand drifted from her hip to the top of her bottom.
“Oh ho!” Beside them, Sam chuckled as he played with Hannah’s dark hair.
Kade only smiled. His hand on her bottom—overlapping half on that practically non-existent skirt and half on thin panties—patted again. Nothing but soft, it was still a spank in disguise. A tickle of the most unwelcome moisture slipped like caressing fingers along the folds of her sex, soaking into her panties, soaking into Kade’s pants.
Master Marshall smiled, but thinly. Through narrowed eyes, he assessed her. “Tell me, young lady. How long have you been in the scene?”
That definitely had to be in Beth’s file. How was she supposed to answer that without getting caught? Chelsea looked around the table, knowing she had to say something, only to be saved in the end when the kitchen door suddenly swung open. Cursing mildly, a burly woman dressed as a cook walked in. She held the door to the wall with her foot. In her hand was a lithesome switch.
“Out, out, my kitchen bitches,” she barked. “Move your lazy butts, or I’ll have you all lined up for entertainment!”
Both men and women, maids and butlers all, filed out bearing covered trays of food. There was one for each place setting and they hurried to place their burdens before each waiting Master. The last one through the door got a lick from the cook’s ready switch and though she jumped, she never made a sound.
“Please, let it be
Alfredo,” Jackson prayed and jostled Sara more comfortably upon his knee.
“Alfredo?” Selena wrinkled her nose. “I wanted hamburgers.”
When all the trays were placed, the covers were removed, revealing hamburgers.
“We agreed on something nutritious,” Emerson said, giving Selena a stern but playful look.
“This is the bride’s day, not yours,” the cook sniffed.
Selena beamed. “Hamburgers are very nutritious.”
“There’s not a vegetable on that plate.”
“Potatoes are vegetables.”
“Not when they’re fried.”
“That’s what the lettuce is for?” Selena batted her baby blues and stole a fry.
Emerson caught her wrist before she could get it to her mouth and then took the fry from her. Their eyes held—at least the attention was off Chelsea. Selena started to smile as Emerson held up the fry and, when she opened her mouth, he placed it between her lips.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she purred.
“Mm hm. It definitely won’t be a good girl spanking.”
Selena giggled. “Maybe I don’t want a good girl spanking.”
“Be careful what you wish for.”
Movement from the corner of her eye caught Chelsea’s attention—a French fry dabbed in a tiny bit of ketchup dangled from Kade’s fingertips.
“Open,” he murmured, holding it level not far from her lips.
That slow flush of heat burned its way up from her belly into her cheeks. Chelsea tried to take it from him, but he deftly avoided her fingers.
“No,” Kade tsked. “That’s not the game. Tonight you eat from your Master’s fingers alone.”
“You’re not my Master.” The rebuke came out too breathless to be taken seriously. She wanted to be offended, but she just couldn’t summon the conviction.
“Tonight I am.” Once more, he brought the fry to her lips. “Open.”
She should refuse. She should get up and walk out. Save
herself from the inevitable agony of giving in to his seduction.
She didn’t.
She opened her mouth instead and Kade put the fry inside. His thumb brushed her bottom lip; she chewed, tingling everywhere. It was the best fry she’d ever had.
“Good girl,” he murmured. They could just as well have been the only people in the room. He caressed her bottom now, boldly elevating the tingle until it consumed her. “Why are you trembling?”