Storywitch's "Book of Shadows"

Okay, here’s Part Two…and yes, Mason is still playing coy, mainly showing up at the end of it. But he should arrive in his full glory in Part 3 (grin). Enjoy…

And don’t forget, Vampire Mistress releases officially on Tuesday, May 4! However, I’ve heard through the fan forum that some of my readers have been finding early copies at Borders and Barnes & Noble already – hooray!

* * * * *

One hour until midnight. One hour until Mason’s mind would be in range of hers. She’d had a despicable urge to wait until then, so she could use his presence in her head to give her additional courage to start this, let alone finish it, but she knew that was what she had to prove to him. That if she was at a Council meeting, and Lord Belizar said he wanted to see a threesome involving two males and one female servant, and she was the chosen female, she wouldn’t disgrace Mason by bolting like a spotted fawn. That she could handle herself and he could rely on her to serve him as a Council-level servant should.

Still she jumped, badly, when Mara touched her arm. Jess was at the top of the steps again, only this time she’d been waiting for them. Mara slid an arm around her waist. She was in one of her thin, nearly sheer robes, the translucent peacock print of rich colors only accenting the glimpses of tempting curves. Her only other adornment was a collar of silver links that Jessica knew was a gift from Enrique.

“There’s no reason to be afraid,” Mara reminded her gently.

“Yes. That’s my job.” Enrique added that comment. Jessica turned to him, trying to let his wry smile dissipate her trepidation. Despite the fact he’d just returned from what was likely a grueling trip, he looked his normal self—sexy as sin, his features a devastating cross of the most appealing traits of his French and Spanish parentage. His closely cropped dark hair had a few loose unruly strands over his forehead, which only made the green eyes with their black eyebrows that much more direct and appealing. There was always a casual slouch to his leanly muscled body that suggested a lazy panther. He wore black slacks and a crisp dress shirt, simple, clean lines that sent a subtle message of power and authority, underscoring the role he would play tonight.

His mouth had that slight, sensual curve that implied all the sinful things he could do with it. And, if his wife was nearby, he often did. Though Jessica knew he was quite devoted to Mara, before she’d taken his heart, he’d accumulated a great deal of skill in bringing pleasure to women, a mutually beneficial education.

She could appreciate all those things about Enrique, even though tonight they sent a ripple of nervousness through her. She pushed it away, but she was already getting that cold ball in her stomach. An ominous sign, but she was determined to ignore it.

Not too long ago, before Enrique had left to join Mason on this trip, the three of them had watched The Mummy Returns. With Jess’s mind on Mason’s return, it wasn’t surprising her mind now returned to one absorbing feature of the film. The Pharaoh’s wife had been covered with intricate ink markings that would smear upon touch, so it would be clear if another had touched what was Pharoah’s. Over the past few months, Mason had branded Jess over and over again with mouth, lips, hands. He’d sunk deep inside of her, taken her in ways so gentle her heart almost broke. Or so rough and demanding she was sobbing with pleasure and exhaustion by the end, too drained to move.

Every inch of her was totally, completely his, such that she had zero desire for that design to be disrupted by the touch of another man, ever again.

But she was servant to a Council vampire, and those servants had learned that they could and would be touched by many others, merely as an extension of their Master or Mistress’s desires for them. She had intimate knowledge of the dark side of such a world, violations of mind, body and soul that ignored any boundaries that compassion or simply viewing her as a living being might have imposed. But when Lady Lyssa and Lady Daniela had visited with Jacob and Dev, she’d had a brief glimpse how it could be. Pleasurable caresses and laughter, demands that aroused desire, instead of destroying or subjugating it.

So while she was nervous with Enrique’s presence, she was okay. She told herself that, took a few deep breaths and only stiffened a bit when he slid his arms around her waist from behind. He had strong, gentle hands. Warm, and they took their time, slowly molding the shape of her waist, thumbs sliding over her abdomen. He kept his palms still, so his fingers wouldn’t exceed the reach of that location, but the sensation tingled uneasily above and below his knowledgeable caress. Moving in front of her, Mara gathered Jessica’s hair up in both hands, then transferred it to one to bring it forward over her left shoulder.

“I love your hair long,” the woman murmured. She combed it over the curve of Jess’s breast as Enrique bent his head, dropped a light kiss, just a brush of lips, at the now bare juncture of shoulder and neck. A place that Mason liked to mark with his fangs regularly. It was something that Enrique had noticed, and now used, helping her recall her Master’s touch and desires. How she could please him.

She had come such a long way, to be having such thoughts naturally. There was a time even thinking in such a way would have terrified her, horrified her. But with Mason she’d learned things could be different. That was the thought she needed to carry forward.

“I think we shall leave this up here.” Mara tugged the sash of Jessica’s robe loose. Hers was a pale blue satin, not nearly as see-through as Mara’s, but one that Mason liked because of how the satin clung to Jess’s curves, showed the tips of her breasts in profile when she turned toward him. The woman kept her gaze on Jess’s face, gauging her reaction as she opened the garment. Underneath, Jess wore nothing at all, making her shiver from the draft coming up the stairs. Enrique slid it off her shoulders, and Mara produced something from the pocket of her robe that was unexpected. And startling.

She’d discussed what she wanted. Jess wanted to go to that dungeon room, and submit to them as a trusting slave would, so from this step forward, she was supposed to be theirs. She’d resisted the idea of choreographing every move, knowing that trying to control every step would defeat the purpose. Though now she wondered if she’d lost her mind. What was in Mara’s hand was a slim silver collar and dainty tether.

“You will trust yourself to us, remember?” the olive skinned woman said, her long-lashed, dark eyes on Jess’s. “And see, this can be broken, so easily. It is practically a child’s trinket. Vampires do not use safe words, Jessica, but with us, you merely need to say stop, and we will honor you still. All right?”

Jessica nodded, not sure she could speak.

Enrique put his hands back at her waist, now making contact with bare flesh. With his next words, the quiet, firm tone, she was reminded that, as Mara’s husband, he often served as her Master, though they both submitted to Mason.

“Ask Mara to collar you.” His fingers played along her flesh, his knuckles stroking the curve of hip. His thumb teased her navel, the piercing that she’d recently gotten there. Mara had talked her into it, and Mason approved. It would hold against a thirdmark healing, as long as it wasn’t removed. It had an amber center stone amid tiny diamond petals. Mason had bought it for her, an appropriate complement to the tattoo on her back, a tiger peering through bamboo, stalking his prey.

“Be sure and say please, as you would to a Mistress or Master.”

“Please…I would like you to collar me.” Her voice broke enough that she saw a flash of concern in Mara’s eyes, but Jess tightened her chin, lifted it, giving the woman access. “I turn myself over to your pleasure…Mistress.”

“Very good,” Enrique murmured.

Mara’s eyes glowed with similar approbation as she fastened the silver cuff around Jess’s throat. The fit was not tight, lying on her collar bone. Jess wondered how they would react if she now blithely decided “yep, that’s enough for one night”, and hightailed it for the safety of her horses and her usual evening routine. The stable hands and maintenance crew would be in the workout room, watching TV, playing pool, seeing what snacks they could talk the cook into creating for them. Those who worked daylight hours were already turning in or thinking about it, if they didn’t get too embroiled in their evening poker game. It was safe, a familiar haven.

Mara snapped the silver tether on the collar, gave it the tiniest of tugs, her fingers curling in Jessica’s loose hair, adding to that pull. “Come, darling,” she murmured. “You’re so beautiful. You can’t imagine how we’re looking forward to this.”

Jess made that first step, then the second. She was going along just fine, if a bit hesitantly, until she reached that fateful curve in the stairs. Then she stumbled.

In an instant, Enrique’s touch went from an easy caress at the small of her back to a full cinch around her waist, and Mara was pressed up against her, holding her steady so she didn’t take a headlong tumble down the stone steps.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” Jess said. “I shouldn’t be asking you to do this.”

“Yes, you should.” Mara’s voice was no longer seductive, teasing. She had the even tone Jessica had come to recognize as a core of steel that hid inside the otherwise perfectly submissive and beautiful dancer. She met Jess’s gaze. “We believe you’re doing the right thing, Jessica. He needs this side of you, and we think you’re ready for it as well. We believe in you.”

Jess glanced up to find Enrique’s green eyes on his wife’s face, but then he turned his attention to Jessica and he nodded as well, his handsome jaw set. “We are in agreement on this. We will force you to do nothing, but we will not let you quit on yourself, either. This is too important, for both of you. We are here for you, Jessica.”

Jessica remembered how often she’d let rage take over her terror, in order to get through horrible moments with Raithe. She’d used rage because she’d had nothing and no one else to help her get through it. Here she was, surrounded fore and aft by a man and woman who had given her friendship to the deepest level, enough that she thought of them as family. And the greatest threat she faced from Mason was his overprotective nature, the lengths he would go to keep her safe, happy and unafraid.

It made her feel foolish, even as it frustrated her. If she couldn’t do this in such ideal circumstances, how would she ever do it at a Council event, where there would be unfamiliar faces, hands? Just that thought alone froze her feet into place. But they were ready for that as well.

“Enrique.” Mara’s voice had returned to that liquid purr. “I know how much you enjoy carrying a lovely naked woman in your arms. Will you do the honors?”

“My pleasure.” He bent just enough to slide his arm under Jessica’s legs, guiding her other arm around his neck as he lifted her. Though he had a thirdmark’s strength, he also had a lean power of his own that made the way he carried her feel very capable, very secure. It gave her a hint of why Mara so loved this man. He had much of Mason in him, it seemed.

“She’s gained a bit of weight since she showed up here like a thin scarecrow,” he observed, a teasing smile on his lips. “Now there are squeezable curves in all the right places.”

Jess gave his hair, short though it was, a yank. He flashed her his devilish grin. “That will likely earn you the first punishment, not-so-little slave.”

“You have to be in the practice room with me sometime,” she pointed out, giving him a narrow look, though her lips quivered at the teasing. “And I’ll put my not-so-little foot up your—”

“Tsk, tsk.” Mara threw a look over her shoulder. “Don’t make us start off the evening with a gag. Particularly when we were looking forward to hearing your cries of pleasure, dearest.”

Just like that, the cold terror flooded her. Gags. Straps. Devices. They were approaching that door.

Suddenly, she was eight years old, going for her first operation. She was going to get her tonsils out. Her mother had soothed her, just as Enrique and Mara were doing now, with their strategic teasing and artful touches, but when the moment had come, her mother had to withdraw and Jess had faced that operating room of sterile, sharp instruments, strangers in masks, bright lights. She’d felt terror deep in her gut, knowing she couldn’t run, but sensing there were things that could go so terribly wrong in such a place.

“Jess.” Enrique was trying not to tighten his hold against her struggles, trying not to add to her sense of being trapped, but not wanting to drop her either. “Look.”

She saw the door had already been opened. The threshold and short series of stone steps just beyond it had been covered with petals. Soft white petals from the garden outside. As she stilled enough for Enrique to take her over that threshold, Mara leading the way, she saw that all those devices, as well as the wall of paddles and whips, were covered with gauzy fabrics—blues, whites and lavenders, a few golds and reds with sequins, part of Mara’s endless array of costumes and props for her private performances. The graceful draping transformed such objects into features in a sky, and she was just a cloud floating among them.

“You weren’t supposed to do this. You weren’t supposed to change things.”

“Hush.” Enrique spoke, his firm tone returning. “You ask too much of yourself, Jessica. We know this about you. You asked us to serve as your surrogate Master and Mistress tonight. What is the first role of a Master or Mistress? Not only to understand when a submissive is ready to stretch herself further, surrender more deeply, but also to know where her limits are. For tonight, this will be more than enough. Both to prove your serious intentions to my lord, and to yourself.”

Mara nodded. “And if you’ll notice, sweet, you’ve refused to look toward the one thing that is uncovered. Look toward it now.”

Enrique let Jess down so she could stand on her own two feet, but Mara kept the tether taut and his hands were on her hips, both steadying her and reinforcing the command she’d given them over her person tonight. Swallowing, she forced herself to turn her eyes to the St. Andrew’s cross. Tall and imposing, the heavy wood made it clear that anyone strapped to it would only be getting loose at the direction of their Master. There were no cuffs on it tonight, though. Just the metal handles for a slave to grasp, and the foot rests to support her if the cross was raised to a vertical position, as it was now.

Mara led her over to it, Enrique shepherding her from behind, male fingers teasing her flesh. It made her ache, thinking of Mason’s return later tonight, how his strong hands would move over her, grip her hips to hold her still as he stretched her with his length. He’d make her stay completely still until he was fully to the hilt. Then he would slowly, slowly withdraw and surge forward, still keeping her motionless, repeating the torturous rhythm until the first climax would tremble over her like a shudder through the earth’s plates. He’d devour her cries with his mouth.

But such a provocative imagining wasn’t enough to banish other, far darker thoughts. When she was within ten feet of the cross, she had to stop again. Mara turned, looked into her face, and her own expression shadowed. “The horror in your eyes, love…” She threaded her fingers into Jessica’s hair then, brought her forward until her face was pressed into Mara’s shoulder. “Those memories cannot have you here,” the woman whispered. “We won’t let them. Use that great courage of yours, sweet girl.”

She needed Mason. She wasn’t going to be able to do this without Mason. Yet Mason wouldn’t allow her to do this. This room was the bridge between past and present, and she had to cross it. But he’d taught her she didn’t have to do these things alone. He would be with her. Was she ignoring her own earlier revelation? By going ahead and doing this in this manner, was she not trusting him enough? Or was it because she needed to prove it to herself first?

“I can’t look at it and do this,” she whispered back. “I want to, but I can’t.”

“Then don’t. Just hold onto me.” Mara turned her, like they were practicing their dancing together. She started humming one of those haunting, exotic tunes, moving her feet forward and back, getting Jess to follow her lead, still holding her close. Adding some hip circles to it, Mara dropped her hands to Jess’s hips, guiding her in the figure eights they’d practiced together and at which Jessica was now pretty good, enough that Mason would sometimes ask her to dance for him, just as he did Amara.

Of course, Jess was usually naked when he made the request, just as she was now. The idea gave her a tiny smile, and then her breath left her in a cold gasp as she was pressed against the hard wood. But Mara had her hands, was still dancing with her. She guided her arms around, up, then down, a graceful swan’s wing move. Jess’s eyes opened to find the woman’s intent gaze on hers, as if to say, Just dance with me, look at me. That is all this is. A dance.

This time when she guided Jess’s hands up, Enrique slid in between them and gave Jess a slight lift, putting her feet on the foot rests. At the same moment, Mara threaded her fingers under those silver handles, molded them over the cool steel so Jess was grasping them.

“Do not let them go.” Enrique straightened. “Eyes down, and listen to me with all your senses. Your eyes do you no good here. They keep you from truly seeing.”

“Don’t blindfold me.” It was a panicked request, and his voice gentled.

“No. Not this time. But keep your eyes down or closed unless we tell you otherwise. You are restrained by our command. You will not let go of those handles, no matter what.” Then his gaze turned to his wife. “Take off your robe.”

It was an entirely different tone. Now what she heard was far more like what Mason had started using with her in the intimacy of their bedroom, the tone that had told Jess he was becoming more confident in what level of Mastery she could handle, and which had helped to start her on this road.

Mara complied instantly, loosening her own sash and letting the silk pool at her feet. She had a clitoral hood piercing, the jewel there a trio of silver links, a tiny diamond threaded on the one that hung down over her labia. It complemented the silver links at her throat. Jess saw all that with a surreptitious look under her lashes. Now they were both naked, and her stomach was quaking as if a new enemy had been unveiled, rather than an ally.

Of course, she shouldn’t be thinking of this in terms of enemy positioning, should she? That in itself said she wasn’t in the right mindset. Her palms were sweating, such that the metal handles were slick. She could do this. She could.

“Go to her,” Enrique said to his wife. “You may seek your pleasure with her, arouse her as you will, but your hands must clasp hers, your feet on the outside of the footrests, your body covering her in a spread position, facing her. Your hair needs to be out of my way for what I wish to do next.”

Mara knelt, a brief obeisance, and then turned to Jessica. As Enrique moved away among the swathes of cloth, Jessica imagined that there was a secretive, anticipatory smile playing on the dancer’s lips. Mara twisted up her long, black hair, knotting it deftly before she moved to obey Enrique’s direction. She positioned her feet on the outside of Jess’s, lithely balanced on the not-so-wide platforms, then clasped her hands over the silver handles. It stretched her lithe body in a matching X to Jess’s, their bare breasts pressed together, those tiny rings at Mara’s pussy brushing against Jessica’s pubic mound, making her quiver.

She’d felt a tiny sensation when Enrique kissed her neck, but most of what she’d experienced so far had been warring with icy fear and tension. Now she was dealing with a woman who had superlative experience in arousing men and women, who knew that the idle, erratic friction of that pierced clit against Jess’s, the grip of her hands, would help stir her blood.

“You are already thinking of what he will do to you tonight, aren’t you?” Mara’s mouth found the tender flesh under Jess’s ear. Instead of Enrique’s light brush of lips, this was a heated, wet nip and tease of the tongue, stroking with unerring accuracy along Jess’s increasing pulse. “He will be wild for you, having been gone so long. Longer than he’s ever been away from you. You already feel the quickening for him between your legs, I can smell it.” With an impish smile that told Jess she was testing her own Master’s command, Mara dropped one hand from the handle to stroke through the slickness between Jess’s legs. Jess let out a soft whimper, another shudder. “You miss his cock inside of you, his body holding you down, reminding you that you are his, helpless to his desire for you.”

“Yes,” Jessica whispered, arching her throat as Mara bit harder. Her fingers stayed between Jess’s legs, spread and vulnerable to her touch. Though it felt so good, it made Jess imagine her legs actually bound, unable to close. “Mara, I’m afraid.”

“There is nothing to fear. You belong to him. Anything you do to serve him only brings you pleasure.”

Enrique returned then, and Jessica saw he’d withdrawn a flogger from the wall. Multiple leather tails that would make a loud thwack when they landed. She knew from personal experience that style of flogger could also deliver a sharp, cutting sting when wielded hard enough. Over time, it would raise welts, then burst open the skin as the flogger was applied again and again and again.

Mara had both her hands again, so when she tried to pull her hands free, she couldn’t get them to slip out from under the arch of the metal handles. “Let me go,” Jess said sharply.

“No,” Mara said, meeting her gaze. “These next few minutes, you are not going to be flogged, Jessica. I am. You will simply feel how my body reacts to it, how it can be when it’s done correctly. Sssh…be still. Serve your Master, Jessica. Be still.”

Jessica managed to stop yanking against Mara’s hold. She hadn’t gotten loose regardless, a reminder that, though they were both thirdmarked, Mara had been thirdmarked longer and had greater strength. She knew she was wide-eyed, and that spiral of tentative arousal Mara had started had evaporated in an instant of dry-mouthed panic at the site of the tool. But she’d said the right words. Serve your Master. Serve Mason. This was for Mason.

“Jessica, I want you to close your eyes.”

“I…I can’t.”

“Try. I promise it will be worth it.”

Jessica managed it after a few minutes of deep breathing, as well as some rapid fire internal arguments, supplemented by Enrique and Mara’s encouragement.

“I am coming close to you.” Enrique’s calm, relentless voice. “I’m not going to strike you or Mara with the flogger. It’s going to touch your face.”

She flinched anyway when the straps, deceptively softer like this, brushed her cheeks, her mouth.

“You cannot imagine how much pleasure Mason gets from using this. It’s one of his favorites.” This from Mara, in a soft, dreamy tone. “He can rouse all the nerves in your back and thighs, then make it lick against your cunt like a rough tongue, over and over. After awhile, he spreads out the strokes, making them harder, until you’re feeling a faint sting, then a stronger one. But even as that happens, your clit is getting fuller, so swollen that you start crying out with pleasure at each strike. You can’t really come, so over-sensitized, but you are so close. When you think you can bear no more, he comes and turns the cross over, so your pussy comes up to the level of his mouth. He buries his tongue deep inside, his mouth sealing over your clit. You explode like a ripe, juicy fruit, and that’s what he likes best about the method. He has taught a different variation to Enrique, which he will show us now.”

She could imagine what Mara painted vividly. Could see Mason’s hand curved over the flogger’s handle. The stern, sensual set of his mouth, the glow of the amber eyes as he used it.

She opened her eyes to see Enrique taking hold of Mara’s hand, the one that had been stroking Jessica. His eyes on his wife’s face, Enrique suckled those two fingers, tasting Jessica and giving Mara a stern, reproving look. “You’ll be punished for that.”

“Whatever gives you pleasure, Master.” Mara lowered her eyes, a slight smile on her face, and Enrique arched a brow, throwing Jessica a mildly exasperated look that eased some of the tension in her stomach. That is, until he replaced Mara’s hand over Jessica’s and gave the olive-skinned woman a meaningful tap with the flogger on one bare buttock. “Do not move it again,” he warned.

Enrique’s footsteps moved back and Mara’s hands tightened over hers. “It’s like the start of a roller coaster, love,” the dancer whispered. “That sense of fear and trepidation about to be turned to exhilaration. Trust us to go over that hill. No, don’t close your eyes again. Try to watch.”

Jess lifted her lids, saw Enrique standing at a proper distance behind his wife. Shaking out the flogger, he gave Jess a nod. “First, I will simply warm up her flesh.”

She had to close her eyes again on that first strike, but she felt the way it struck Mara’s back, the thud of it vibrating, quivering through her breasts. The woman’s gasp against her cheek, the brush of her lips, the flick of a tongue as Mara moistened her own lips. Another strike, the sharp slap making it clear the flogger had a bite when Enrique chose to start using it. The moment he’d thrown the first overhand strike, Jess had started to shake, and now she was fully quivering against Mara, trying to hold her ground. It took ten strikes before she could open her eyes. The woman’s nipples, pressed against Jess’s chest, were hardening. Despite having her legs spread on the outside of Jess’s, she was moving her hips, a slow, short rub against Jess’s pubic bone with each stroke, a mewl of need. Jess expected that Enrique’s view of his wife’s sensually undulating hips, moving in circles over Jess’s naked body, had to be arousing him as well.

Jess reached for her own building response desperately, knowing it was there, just out of her reach, that submissive’s pleasure that came with surrendering. The flogger tails flashed out and Mara arched harder this time, making Jess gasp at the increased pressure against her sex, the building friction.

“Now underhanded, love,” Mara managed. Jess didn’t fully comprehend until Enrique took a step in, changed his stance and swing. The straps slapped the inside of Mara’s thighs…and Jess’s. She jumped, the sensation tingling up between her legs, but Enrique had followed that strike with an immediate second one. It struck Jess’s wet labia with a smack of sensation that had her pushing into Mara, increasing the stimulation to her clit by the other woman’s. “Oh. Oh.”

“Our pretty little slave likes your technique,” Mara said when Enrique paused after five more strokes. Jess had let out a small moan on the last one, and Mara’s voice was a bit strained as well.

Enrique arched a brow, idly swinging the flogger against his cocked hip. “I don’t hear her asking for more.”

“Ask for more,” Mara suggested, catching Jess’s ear in her teeth. “Please Goddess, ask for more for us.”

“More,” Jess managed, her voice quavering. She thought she might be about to split apart, divided between the way her body was reacting and the maelstrom of feelings this was stirring inside of her, a cyclone starting to turn faster and faster. So much pain and mental damage had been done to her like this, but Enrique was skillfully making it clear how much it hadn’t had to be like that. But Raithe had been a sadistic bastard, a demon who was even now laughing at her somewhere, because that darkness was grasping at her with dry, sharp fingers, trying to pull the pleasure away from her.

She fought it. This was different, a wholly new world discovered in herself. But the dark was welling up on all sides, threatening it. She whimpered as Enrique resumed, because she was afraid of where her feelings were going, and what would happen when they got there. What would break loose with the physical explosion of a climax?

She cried out this time when the straps licked up between her legs. She didn’t know if Enrique gave the order, but he must have, for now Mara freed herself and backed away, taking an obeisant kneeling position nearby as her husband resumed the flogging strokes, but now they only landed on Jessica. Jess saw the flogger flash out, watched the straps impact as they hit between her legs, and moaned again.

“I can’t…” No. She could, and that was the point, right? She could do this. She just hadn’t expected this clawing spiral of irrefutable arousal to be so tangled with all the rest, as if the nightmares were coming to the surface with the orgasm. That tidal wave might overwhelm her, take her on a wild, thrilling ride, but when it got to shore, it would drown her, pummel her.

She lost time, her body bucking with the movement of the lash, getting heavier and more needy by the moment, her ability to speak prohibited by the roar of that storm.

When Enrique paused again, a breather, she tried to marshal her thoughts, form words, but then Mara was there. The woman bent, cupping Jess’s breasts in her capable, long-fingered hands and began tonguing Jessica’s nipples. Enrique took a seat on a stool to watch. When he braced a leg on one of the higher rungs, it outlined the prominent erection beneath his slacks. He twitched the flogger in his hand, a warning of more to come.

That, and the merest touch of Mara’s hands and mouth, made Jessica cry out again. Everything was gathering, centering in her core. For days her body had been brought to a near-boil by Mason’s nightly calls, held there by her anticipation and longing of his return. She hadn’t had a single climax since he was gone. Now she was so perilously close to one, and it seemed they’d barely started.

Of course, a moment later she realized she was wrong about that. Apparently, it had been over an hour. Enrique had managed a commanding and masterful tone quite easily, but it was nothing compared to the silky and dangerous tone that resonated through her mind now.

Habiba. That one word was enough to send shivers down her spine, make her heart leap into her throat. Her pussy tightened on its own emptiness, contracting on all the ready moisture there.

You will explain to me what you are doing. Right after you get down from there and put on some clothes. Now.

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