Cameron's Control (7 page)

Her eyelashes flickered. “Your girlfriend?”

I kissed her nose. “My lover. Everyone will know you are mine. Such a position carries status and power.”

I could see in her eyes she wanted to know if we’d ever be more. We weren’t there yet, and I wasn’t sure we’d ever be. Mia’s fear of abandonment proved she needed the kind of reassurance only a proposal could carry.

My passion was intense and it wasn’t the first time a woman needed reassurance that this level of emotion would endure—a physical relationship that fulfilled a woman entirely.   

I’d once been told that after the time spent with me was over it felt like the equivalent of drowning for the sub. The reality of finding a master with my exact talents was rare apparently, leaving women starved of that which they’d be exposed to. Refusing to hold back on the blinding pleasure I’d bestowed on them didn’t exactly make it easy.

The present moment drew me back.

I reached up and unclipped Mia’s wrists, releasing her. “What do you desire?”

Mia stepped away and scurried over toward her collar. She lifted it off the pillow and placed it around her neck. She returned to me and spun around for me to secure the catch.

“Master.” She knelt before me.

I moved away from her toward the light switch and dimmed the vault, setting the scene before strolling over to the walled wireless system. Hans Zimmer oozed from the surround sound speakers. A hypnotic, moody piece that filled the room with vibration.

Making my way back to her, I rested a hand on the top of her head. “Stand.”

I grabbed Mia’s bra and ripped it off her and it made her jolt. I knelt and did the same with her panties, leaving her naked and running a hand over the curve of her buttocks.

From the corner trunk, I removed the long strands of fine, strong rope. Taking my time, dissolving into the ritual, I began the process of binding Mia, using intricate geometric patterns around her curves, having mastered the art of Shibari a long time ago. This ancient form of Japanese bondage was once reserved for beloved prisoners. The technique was so complex and time consuming it was reserved only for our most cherished.

I weaved the last rope around her breasts. “Well done, kitten,” I said huskily.

Mia swooned, that telltale soft blush on her chest proving she was rope drunk.

I continued on, binding her wrists together and then reaching for the four golden link chains hanging from the ceiling.

Clipping them methodically, two to her upper back and two to the rope encircling her hips, I secured her. Reaching up for the central chain and giving it a tug, she tilted face downward and her toes left the ground. This beautiful creature was suspended with her thighs parted, her panting revealing her adrenaline had spiked in her veins.

I yanked the main gold chain to my left and Mia jolted upward. Continuing to pull, Mia went higher still, until she hung twenty feet in the air.

I admired my handiwork of a floating beauty suspended midair. Her pussy flinched with excitement.  

I called up to her. “If you ever break one of my rules again, this is how I will punish you.”  

“Yes, master.” Her chest rose and fell with tiny rapid breaths.

“This,” I said firmly, “is what it means to trust.”

“Yes, sir.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “I look forward to our future, Mia, and all that it promises to be.”

“Thank you, sir.”

God she was beautiful. Like a fine marble sculpture carved from the purest stone. Her back was to the ceiling while her front faced the floor. Golden locks tumbled over her face. She swayed in a slow steady rotation.

Twenty minutes later, I lowered her.

Mia’s sweet expression of affection for me was exactly what I’d yearned to see. She’d fully understood the meaning of this lesson.   

Her skin responded to the feather I used to tease her. I moved on to the Wartenberg Pinwheel, with its rotating evenly-spaced sharp pins, running it along her flesh and causing her to writhe. I took my time to flog her. All the while, I ensured she remained in subspace and those tell-tale signs of her sustained arousal were maintained—her dilated pupils, her constant groaning, thighs shaking, and the most obvious, her pussy, soaked and spasming in its own sweet way of begging.

I tipped her chin up to look into her eyes. “My sweet, angel.”

“Please fuck me, sir.”

“Patience.”

I grabbed her hips, pulled her back, and let her go so she swung like a pendulum.

Mia giggled.

I grabbed the rope and stilled her. “You find this funny?”

“No, sir, I like it. It’s like flying.”

Standing behind her so she couldn’t see my grin, my guard lessened. I paced around her, pausing briefly to build the tension again, anticipation, her waiting for the inevitable—

She glanced back at me, the action causing her to swing slightly.

“Turn around,” I commanded.  

Running my hands over her thighs, the arch of her spine, I dragged my fingertips around to her front and lowered to her sex. “This is where your spiritual energy rises from. The base of awareness of your sacredness.” I eased apart her lips and tapped two fingers upon her clit.

She exhaled in a rush, eyelids flickering.

“This delicate organ is devoted merely to pleasure. It represents the sacred feminine. This—” I tapped her clit again –“reflects love. Compassion. Service.”

That little nub responded, twitching with delight as my pacing increased, my pressure insistent. Mia’s thighs trembled, her cheeks flushed, her mouth went slack.

With a fingertip, I encircled her clit. “This is your birthright, Mia.” I leaned into her ear. “Enjoy this as God intended. Through this, you will lose your sense of self. Connect with the infinite.”

Her brow furrowed in that thoughtful way of hers.

“Who does this belong to?”

“You, sir.”

“Say it.”

“My clit belongs to you, sir.”

“That is correct. Who do you belong to?”  

“You, sir.”

“By the swimming pool, you hinted this was not enough.” I flicked her clit.

“I’m not sure what I meant now,” she said breathlessly.  

“Have I not told you I love you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I know what you need.”

Her eyes moistened and her lips trembled with emotion.

“Your body is a temple and I take great pleasure in worshiping you. I will leave no doubt in your mind how I feel about you. However, first I will punish you for questioning me.” I pinched her clit.

She let out a moan of pleasure as I traced a fingertip along her sex.

I retrieved from the wall rack that cat-o-nine tails with its thin cords and thick handle. After tapping it in my left palm before her, I dragged the soft leather straps along the small of her back, her abdomen, and across her breasts and along her collar bone.

I brought it up to her mouth and she suckled on the tip of the handle, her tongue rimming it, teasing, hinting what she wanted to do to me.

If I let her.

I started with gentle whips to bring her naked skin awake, providing hypnotic stings to her flesh, pinking it, warming, stimulating nerve endings and setting her neurons alight with the perfectly timed sensations.  

Mia was lulled into a trance, her body moving in sync with each strike. Her thighs parted. Her hips arched forward in yearning for the caress of those thin cords.

I left her wanting, needing, her breaths short and sharp.

I gripped the chain above her and gave it a yank. I wasn’t touching her, but Mia responded as though I was.

Leaning in to her ear, I whispered, “I am changed. I hardly recognize myself. All that I was seems inconsequential now.” I yanked the central chain to bring her closer. “Mia, you believe you’re the one bound. You’re not really. I’m the one captured. By everything you say and do. All that you are.”

She held my gaze, her eyes glistening in the dark.

“You are everything that is beautiful in this world. You shine brighter than any sun and your soul sings more profoundly than any sonnet. Your eyes haunt my dreams, Mia. You are beholden of a dazzling beauty, an ethereal presence that could possess any heart you desired. I am seduced completely, beguiled by your soft skin, so sensitive, so responsive. Your exquisite breasts, your nipples pert in their yearning to be pinched and suckled.” My gaze lowered to her sex. “This delicate flower that even now responds to its master obediently, wet as it readies for me, your clit erect and needful of your Dom’s firm mastering.”

Her eyelids grew heavy, her body trembled toward her closeness.

Still not touching her, I continued to taunt her arousal, “Beneath my fingers, I’ll strum you slowly, my submissive. Just how you like it.”

She was too entranced to speak.

“Pleasure can also serve as a punishment. You ran away from your master. A sin. Your punishment will be me encircling your clit extraordinarily slowly, prolonging your chastisement. Until you scream for me to forgive you.”

Her body trembled. Her eyes searched mine as though trying to understand how, without any physical contact, I was sending her over.  

“Perhaps, if I’m feeling merciful, I’ll allow you to come, kitten. If you are good. Can you be good?”

Mouth gaping, her climax building, the tension from the rope around her sex carried her over.

“I look forward to your impending clit play, Ms. Lauren. You’ve proven yourself worthy to deserve hours of concentrated dedication to it. You’ve earned yourself a slow steady flicking. A firm encircling. My tongue fucking you at the same time. Would you like that?”

Her face blushed wildly, jaw gaping.

“That’s right, surrender,” I said. “Come for me, my sweet submissive. I demand it, now.”  

Through small gasps, she climaxed, her thighs shaking, her eyes squeezed shut, her body twitching and trembling, her movement causing her to swing. Her face flushed brighter, and her expression showed confusion that she wasn’t even being touched, but merely the power of my words had sent her over. Her expression grew euphoric, caught up, enraptured, limbs shuddering under the strain.

Her bliss had been captured over the centuries by artists, musicians, and poets, their ability to immortalize this sacredness encapsulated in their timeless work.

Mia’s moans echoed around us.

She was coming still…

This lifestyle was nothing without trust between a master and his chosen one. Domination was the purest craft. One perpetuated control throughout the scene, leading one’s submissive through a sacred cycle of both pleasure and pain to roll one orgasm into the other in an unbroken loop of ecstasy.

And so it was.

Utilizing the mechanism I’d captured her in, positioning her to widen her thighs and expose her further, I knelt behind her and leaned in, holding onto the rope on her ankles and pulling her toward me.

This was how to truly worship a woman, suckle upon her sex and kiss her tenderly, slowly at first and then sliding into a rhythmic tongue strumming. Her trembling proved she came again. Her juices covered my face and her scent marked me.

Teasing her with denial, planting kiss after kiss on her inner thighs, moving from one to the other, I nipped as I went.

She screamed, too far gone.

Returning to her sex, I lapped there until I’d taken all I wanted, as though only this might in some way quench my thirst for her. My cock ached, my heart soared over finding her
.

Blinded by lust, I gave myself over to this searing pleasure, my erection so hard, so insistence, I could refuse this allure no longer. Rising to my feet fast, freeing myself from my pants, I quickly found her entrance. I slid inside, filling her completely until I’d buried myself so fully the tip nudged her womb. This position allowed for the deepest penetration.

Gripping the chain on either side of her hips, I used this for leverage to pound into her, driving her on with a fierceness, bringing her back onto my cock with an uncompromising force.

Mia’s throaty cries drifted as her body went rigid and she came again, her muscles clenching around my shaft. My thoughts scattered like glass.

I was too gone to remember to breathe.  

CHAPTER 7

AFTER FIVE MILES of pounding the pavement, I was ready to get back to Mia.

I’d left her sleeping in my bed.

The memory of our play in the vault during the early hours caused my cock to harden. This insatiable need saw no end in sight. I shook my head in amusement. No other sub had captivated me like this, not even close.

I could still smell her on me.

Heading back, I assured myself my usual brutal running pace would start up again, and maybe I’d even have Mia joined me. Richard had left early this morning before I’d gotten up. I’d texted him to call me. We needed to hang out again soon.

I’d given my housekeeper Helen the day off, as well as my butler Lincoln, so we’d have the place to ourselves.

Strolling the hallway toward the kitchen, I felt the difference already. I’d always ignored that nagging sense of loneliness enhanced by all this space, but here, now, the contrast emphasized what I’d willingly endured: a self-imposed solitude.

I’d found
her.

The one.

I knew it in the depth of my soul.

Even if the journey had been harrowing, there was no doubt Mia was worth every angst filled moment until I’d been able to call her mine.

Unable to wipe this ridiculous grin off my face, I set about making us breakfast, preparing toast, eggs—sunny side up—and sausages. And a pot of coffee.

I carried it up to my bedroom,
our bedroom
.  

Mia blinked awake and pushed herself up the headboard. She was disheveled, her locks knotted in a mass of blonde and falling over her face. Her wayward look was outrageous proof of our time in the vault. She peered with one eye open through golden strands.

“I take full responsibility for getting you tipsy,” I said. “And as the cause I’m also responsible for the cure.” I rested the tray on the bed and offered her two pain pills. “For your hangover.”