The Journal (Her Master's Voice) (9 page)

Read The Journal (Her Master's Voice) Online

Authors: Liv Honeywell,Domitri Xavier

Tags: #stories of dominance, #erotica, #Fiction, #erotic stories, #erotic fiction, #british stories, #d/s, #master/slave, #love stories, #dominance, #european

“Hey. I’m here. You’re not going to lose me. We’re okay. We’re going to be fine.”

After a few minutes the sobs lessened and the tension eased in her back.

He held her slightly away from him and took hold of her chin, dabbing away her tears with his handkerchief.

“Now, no more of those. We’re home and we’re together, and that’s all that matters. You learn well and I am so very proud of you. I want you to know I didn’t leave you alone lightly last night. I simply couldn’t understand why you’d read my journal. I needed some time alone, not only to punish you but also to try to figure it out for myself. My reaction was shocking to me. I needed time to think it through. I hope you understand that. I hope you didn’t think I was being merely sadistic.”

“No, Sir. Thank you for that.”

A pause. The mood had become more than a little sombre again. She broke it...

“But we do like a little bit of sadism, don’t we?” She half smiled, looking up at him playfully; wanting to put everything behind them.

“Hell, yeah!” he said and he pinched her ear between his fingers, enough to make her say ‘ow’ but gently enough for her to know that he was being playful too.

“Time for bed,” he said. He took her hands and lifted her up from the sofa.

“Good. I’m really tired.”

“That’s a pity. I’m not.”

He pulled her to him and dropped a gentle kiss on her lips. The kiss deepened, passion flaring. They held each other close, both thinking of all they could have lost and of how much they wanted to hold on to each other; to everything they had together. She wrapped her arms around his neck, conscious of his erection pressing against her hip.

He ended the kiss and smiled at her, stroking her hair and then her face. He trailed one finger lightly down between her breasts and she shivered with pleasure.

“I’m going to keep you alert for a little while,” he said. One hand teased her nipples to peaks, while the other wound itself into her hair, pulling her head back gently for another deep kiss. She moaned against his lips, already aroused.

He released her hair and lifted her dress, tracing the edge of her panties and then slipping just one teasing finger inside her. She clung to him, breathing quickening as he explored her.

“Hmm, I think you may already be… alert,” he grinned. “And I think the tiredness will pass when you see what I have in mind.”

He held her wrist and led her into the bedroom, laying her out on the bed. He looked down at her, taking his time; savouring every curve of her body, enjoying the thought that she was his to do with as he pleased.

“You are a good girl. My beautiful girl. I’m a very lucky man.”

Those words... good girl, my beautiful girl... sent a shiver down her spine, as he knew they would, and the smile lighting her face almost took his breath away. He quickly stripped his clothes off, needing to be with her; to touch her bare skin and feel her body close to his.

Quickly and confidently he disrobed her, wanting no barriers between them. Not now. Gracefully, he lowered himself onto the bed, lying down beside her.

That first warm velvet touch of skin against skin had them both desperate to touch, both not wanting even the slightest amount of space between them.

He reached down to kiss her, but instead of their lips meeting, he consumed her lips into his mouth. He played with them with his tongue, sucking her bottom lip and then her top lip, tracing his tongue lightly around them.

He kissed her neck and she threw her head back to accommodate him. He bit, he gathered pieces of her aching flesh into his mouth; he ran his tongue around the contours of her ears. His hands gripped her skin tightly, as if he were clenching his fist but holding her skin in between his fingers. His hands moved quickly, with assurance; knowing just where to touch to have her aching for him; longing for him to be inside her.

He clenched her around her waist, her ass, the back of her neck, the tops of her legs; all the while kissing her with such raw passion that she could barely breathe.

He moved his attention to her breasts; with one hand he squeezed them so that her nipples protruded. He first bit her left nipple then sucked her whole breast into his mouth through his teeth. Any pain involved was quickly forgotten as he lavished attention on her other breast, biting and sucking it.

He slowed his tempo, becoming gentler, softer. He ran his fingers across her back and arms, barely grazing the skin. She found herself now facing the other way, with her back to him, almost without knowing how she got there.

He put one hand over her mouth and put first one, then two, then three fingers inside. At precisely the same time his fingers entered her pussy and there was a subtle counterpoint of his fingers moving in harmony in two places at once.

She lost all sense of herself. He owned her, possessed her, and she could not, would not want to get in his way. She felt his erection press against her lower back. She wanted to touch him but, before she was able to complete the thought, she was on her back and he was inside her.

His cock and body found the same rhythm. At first the beat was slow and she felt every inch of him inside her. Then he drew longer, more powerful thrusts making her moan with the sheer joy of it. As soon as she made a sound, his hand would cover her mouth. This way she could scream as loudly as she liked and no-one would hear her cries. Deeper into her he went and the pace quickened; a steady crescendo. She wanted to come but dared not.

He was aching for her, yearning for her. His hand came away from her mouth.

“Come for me. Come now.”

He was so ready for her. He looked at her face, drinking in the sight of her as the orgasm came. And how it did. Yelling sounds that surely had never made it into dictionaries, she vocalised her ecstasy. He came moments later, filling her with a massive final thrust of his pelvis.

It was over. It was almost vanilla but it was wonderful. It was everything they needed. His body gave way and he lay on hers, holding her tightly, so tenderly.

“I love you,” he said in his soft baritone voice.

“And I love you, my man, my Master...”

When not writing about delicious, hot male dominants and the female subs who love them, I’m usually doing something craft-like—reading, baking, eating the results of said baking, and attempting to satisfy the demands of His High and Mighty Dominance (the cat!).

Domitri Xavier comes from a rich heritage, including Russia, France and Yorkshire. He is the quintessential English gentleman and lives alone in his cavernous mansion, Upton Abbey.

Domitri is not only a writer, composer, pianist, raconteur, wit and poet, he also enjoys a number of hobbies; he breeds Basset Hounds, plays chess (although he has yet to record a victory) and he is a renowned collector of used tea bags—Earl Grey, naturally.

He fills his remaining time writing erotic fiction, much of it based on his own lifestyle at the Abbey.