Desire After Dark: Lords of Pleasure (10 page)

“What in Hades do you think you’re doing?”

Kass’s sharp, irritated voice jolted him upright, breaking his reverie. Shifting on the bench, he observed her approach and decided to disarm her with his best smile.

“Waiting for you, sweetcakes. What does it look like?”

“That’s
mistress
to you,” she said in a steely tone. Her expression was not one of amusement.

Uncertainty crept in, strange and uncomfortable. He’d never been in a situation with a female he couldn’t charm his way out of. But this one was admittedly a bit more prickly than most. This might not be as easy as he’d thought.

“Sorry, mistress. I got carried away watching the birds. You have a beautiful garden.”

She wasn’t swayed by the attempt at small talk. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, and that’s not acceptable. You’re to let me know where you will be at all times. Do you understand?”

“Sure, but it’s not like I left the grounds or anything. I was just—”

“Loafing. Obviously you don’t take your role here seriously. I think a lesson in humility is in order, don’t you?”

“I don’t—I mean, whatever you think is best,” he replied, then added, “Mistress.”

“Follow me.”

Damn, the woman was wound tight. If he could get her into bed and sink his cock into her sweet pussy again, he could relax her soon enough. But apparently she had something a bit different in mind.

She led him to her chambers, where she flicked a hand at him. “Off with your clothes.”

That was a simple-enough order, and one he didn’t mind complying with. Trying to keep the eagerness off his face, he stripped off his shirt and jeans. Once he was naked, he stood waiting for her to order him to her bed. Or perhaps bend her over the dresser or something.

His dick liked that scenario and came awake, ready to play. His mistress, however, didn’t react exactly as he thought she would.

“I see you’re eager to learn what this evening has in store.” She smirked. “I hope you’ve recovered your stamina.”

“What’s going on tonight?”

“A dinner party.”

“Oh. Well, I’ve been to plenty of those,” he said, a bit disappointed.

“I doubt you’ve been to any like this one.” With that, she walked into the bathroom. Before he could decide whether to follow, she was back carrying a large towel, a bowl, and a razor. It was the old-fashioned sort of razor that could behead a gorilla. “Lie on the bed, on your back.”

“Wait a second,” he said with a laugh of disbelief. “You’re not planning what I think you are—are you? No way.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Come on. Why the fuck do I have to get manscaped for a dinner party?”

“Your job is to do as I say, which I shouldn’t have to remind you. Get on the bed.”

The determination on her lovely face spoke volumes. He wasn’t going to win a battle of wills, and she wasn’t going to tell him why he was doing this before she was good and ready. “Fine. But if my hair grows back weird, I’m blaming you.”

“Who says I’ll allow it to grow back?”

There was a strange thought. A bit nervous, he crawled onto the bed and sprawled on the towel, watching her every move. Placing the bowl and razor on the nightstand, she took a piece of soap from the bowl, which turned out to have some water in it, too. Next, she scooped some of the water, dribbled it over his groin, and lathered her hands.

And then she took the soap in her hands, and lathered him up as well. His manhood rather liked this attention, getting all warm, slippery, and sudsy. It began to plump, and his balls tightened as she slicked every crevice.

But when she rinsed her hands in the bowl and picked up the razor, the poor fellow deflated somewhat. He eyed the blade, sucking in a breath as she lowered it to his groin.

“Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know,” he replied with a weak smile. “I saw you lop off a werewolf’s head. Wielding a razor will be no challenge for you at all.”

“I killed the beast to save you,” she reminded him. “If I wanted to harm you, I had the perfect opportunity.”

“True.” He let out a deep breath. “I trust you.”

“No, I think you’ve decided to take a chance, and that’s not the same. But you
will
trust me, in time.”

Sitting up on his elbows, he glued his eyes to her movements as she lowered the blade and began to swipe it with sure, even strokes. Slowly, his man-fuzz, which had never been that thick to begin with, disappeared, revealing smooth skin.

He had to admit, the sight of it and the feel of the scrape of the dangerous blade at the root of his cock and around his balls were very erotic. His dick recovered and returned to full readiness, rising from his now-naked groin.

Straightening, she surveyed her handiwork with satisfaction. “You look fantastic. Rinse off in the shower, and don’t take long. And one other thing—keep your erection nice and firm but do not come. Is that clear?”

“Yes, mistress,” he managed. Gods, the woman knew how to get his libido going! What was she up to? He’d play along, see where this went.

His shower was quick, but he made certain to play with himself a bit, just enough to obey her order without going over the edge. There was something titillating about her exerting this sort of control over his body—or more accurately, about his willingly submitting to it. He liked it, more than he should.

After he’d toweled off, he padded into her bedroom to see her in the doorway, retrieving a small box from a servant. He wondered what had been delivered and figured he’d find out soon enough.

She walked to the dresser and set the box on it. “Come here.”

He complied, waiting impatiently. She removed the lid and lifted out a black, strappy leather thing with a long, slender chain attached. “Is that a harness of some sort?”

“And a leash, yes.”

“You have a dog?” He glanced around, thinking he hadn’t seen one.

“No. But I have a slave.” Her lips turned up, and her gaze raked him from head to toe.

He snorted. “You don’t really mean for me to wear that thing.”

“On your cock, yes.”

He chuckled, but his humor died fast when he saw she was dead serious. “Okay. That’ll be a first.”

Why the hell was his cock harder than ever, starting to ache? The damned thing was pointed straight at her, as if begging to be leashed already. A glance down at himself confirmed that a pearly drop had formed at the tip.

“Spread your feet apart and hold still.”

He did, watching as she laid the harness and leash aside and grabbed something else from the box. This item was a small strap, and he knew it was a cock ring. That explained why she wanted him to keep up his erection.

As he thought she would, she bent and fixed the strap around his balls and the base of his cock. He couldn’t help the groan that slipped from his lips as he grabbed the edge of the dresser. He’d worn one of these before, and it was exquisite torture. The ring would help him remain erect but wouldn’t allow him to come.

Next she retrieved the small harness. He hadn’t seen one quite like this, and he took great interest in how she planned to strap him into the thing. The base of the harness, what little there was, had the appearance of a leather thong—a really skinny one, with an open triangle where the material covering the crotch would normally be.

He stepped into the contraption, and she worked it up, over his thighs. The straps fit around his legs and waist, and the thin strip in the back snugged between his ass cheeks. His erection jutted proudly from the center, and he realized why she’d wanted his skin bare. It no doubt looked much better than if he’d been all fuzzy.

“Gorgeous,” she murmured, surveying the fit. “Too bad your cock isn’t pierced, or I could have fitted you with a nice gold hoop and clipped the leash to it instead. This will look nice, though.”

“Whoa. Nobody’s coming at my junk with a needle. I don’t care if you’re the fuckin’ Queen of England.”

She was either ignoring him, or was too preoccupied to comment. Taking one end of the leash, she held it up. He saw that it was actually split into a Y, with clips on each of the two ends and the part his mistress would hold at the other. Quickly, she snapped the clips into place, each through a tiny loop sewed into the leather close to the base of his balls. When she stood, the lead in hand, and tugged him to face the mirror, the sight was pretty damned kinky.

The silver leash framed his hard cock, sparkling from his groin right to her hand. The symbolism of that was not lost on him—she had harnessed his power and had control of his body. She could allow him to come, or not. He was her creation.

“Wow,” he said. “I’ve never seen myself quite like this before.”

“You look stunning,” she praised him, giving him a kiss on the lips. Raking her fingers through his hair, she smiled. “You’re going to knock everyone on their asses.”

“What do you mean?” he asked suspiciously.

“At the dinner party. Everyone will lust after you.”

“Wait—you expect me to wear this? At
dinner
, in front of strangers?”

“Yes, and you will. You’ve been naked in public before, right?”

“Sure, but that was at the resort, where everyone participates and this sort of thing is expected,” he sputtered, gesturing to his gear. “Not at a civilized dinner party where everyone else is dressed and I’m the show!”

“Then you’ll experience another first, won’t you?”

“Kass—”

“Mistress.”

“Mistress, please don’t make me do this,” he entreated.

“But again, your cock disagrees.” Reaching out, she brushed the aching length with her fingers and traced the wet tip. She swirled the wetness all over the bulbous head. “Now stand here like a good boy while I change.”

As she walked off to the closet, he glared after her. Damn the woman for doing this to him. The last thing he wanted to do was walk naked and aroused into a roomful of people and be put on display like a prized stallion. And yet…

He had to admit, the idea held kinky appeal. It was something he’d never do if he wasn’t being told he must. Which gave him an out, really, if he wanted to look at it that way. Was there any shame in doing what his mistress told him to do? What she expected?

By the time she emerged wearing black pants and a silky red top, he was as ready as he’d ever be. “Who’s coming to this party?”

She picked up his leash. “A few of my friends. A couple are minor gods, three are Valkyries from a different family, one is a slave trader who’d die to get his mitts on you. Don’t worry—I’d skewer him if he tried, and he knows it. All of them are wealthy.”

“Your sisters?”

“Serena might be there, but I doubt the rest will show.” She gave his leash a tug. “No more questions. It’s time to go.”

She led him out into the corridor, and he tried to use the scant moments before they arrived at their destination to gather some semblance of calm. But his heart beat like a mad bird in a cage, and his hands trembled. The best he could hope for was not to disgrace his mistress.

When they arrived in the dining room, Luc noted that it was smaller than the one he’d been in before. The room was just as lavish, the table set with china, platters of meat, vegetables, fruits and cheeses. It was enough for twice the number of people Kass had said were coming.

The next thing he became aware of were the eyes on him. Two guests had arrived, a man and a woman, and he definitely had their attention. Quickly, he lowered his gaze and tried to stop the flush of embarrassment that heated his face, but to no avail.

“Well, isn’t he sexy?” the woman enthused. “Wherever did you purchase him, Kassandra?”

Luc almost snarled at the bitch for assuming he’d been bought on the slave market.

“Actually, I rescued him from a werewolf and brought him home.” Kass moved forward and hugged her. “How are you, Lavinia?”

The pair chattered, the man hovering beside them until more guests arrived. Luc was left standing, wondering what to do. Every single person made a comment on Luc’s good looks, and how lucky Kass was to have snared such a virile specimen. Once he got over the initial irritation, he actually found himself enjoying the attention somewhat. It did wonders to keep his arousal on edge.

At last they sat down to dinner. Kass tugged Luc to sit at her feet rather than in a chair, which seemed appropriate. Considering his status, or lack thereof, he’d hardly expected to sit in a chair. His mistress stroked his hair and fed him morsels from her plate with her fingers, and he took delight in licking them in a suggestive manner before she withdrew each time. He began to quite like the naughtiness of lounging at her feet, a pampered cat in a room of haughty people.

The straps of his harness played against his skin deliciously, especially the one settled between his ass cheeks. Every time he shifted, it rubbed against his hole. He toyed with his cock, keeping it happy, the ring at the base doing its job to keep him from coming. Yes, he liked this. He could get used to it.

He’d gotten complacent—big mistake.

“Luc, come up here,” Kass said, tugging on his leash. “I want everyone to formally meet you.”

Shit.
Swallowing hard, he scooted from under the edge of the table that he’d made a temporary refuge. He stood slowly, knowing he had to face them. But he kept his gaze aimed high, just over their heads so that he didn’t focus on any one person. He just saw the group; that was all he could manage.

“My friends, this is Luc, my slave. I’m already rather fond of him, as you can see, and—”

“Will you share him with us?” a woman called across the table.

“Yeah, Kass. Don’t keep him all to yourself!”

His mistress laughed, and the sound eased him. He could tell before she spoke that she wasn’t going to give them what they wanted—not exactly, anyway.

“In a manner of speaking, I will share him. My beautiful
Luc is going to perform for you all, and I can guarantee it will be the most perfect dessert you’ve ever been served.”

What the fuck was she up to?

Amidst the flurry of talk and excited speculation, a few servants rushed forth and cleared the dishes. Only the platters of fruit were left behind, and those were rearranged so that there was a bare place in the center of the table.
Oh crap.