GrandSlam (21 page)

Lowering her legs from my shoulders, I rolled off her before
I slumped down and squashed her tiny frame. I reached out and pulled her into
my arms, her head resting on my shoulder. We were halfway down the bed, my feet
hanging off the end, but I didn’t give a shit. I’d just had mind-blowing sex
with the woman I loved and was now holding her as though I didn’t ever want to
let her go. Which was no coincidence.

The thought popped into my head that I really did want to
spend the rest of my life with her, but admittedly it scared me a little so I
pushed it away for now, concentrating instead on the present. I stroked strands
of hair away from Marie’s damp forehead and pressed a kiss to it.

She snuggled farther into me and threw her arm over my
torso, absentmindedly trailing her fingers up and down my side.

I shuddered.

“Hey,” she said sleepily, “you’re not ticklish, are you?”

“A little bit,” I admitted. “What about you? God, I can’t
believe that after all the time we’ve spent naked together that we don’t know
this about each other.”

“Travis,” she said wryly, “we’ve been too busy fucking,
remember? I told you back on the boat that we’d never be able to take things
slow, didn’t I?”

“You did, gorgeous. And you were absolutely right.” I kissed
her again, between her eyebrows this time, intending to work my way down to her
mouth. “But I’ve got absolutely no regrets. Have you?”

“God, no,” she replied, moving away slightly so she could
look at my face. “Ever since we, you know, started playing, I’ve felt like a
different person. A better one, a happier one. And as for when we started
officially going out together, well… Let’s just say I’m glad we took that
chance. We’re doing all right, aren’t we?”

“What do you mean? I think we’re all right. More than all
right, actually.”

“It was more of a statement than a question. I just meant
that we’re doing good all ’round, really. Working together is fine—better than
it was, in fact. And as for out of work… Well, I don’t think I’ve ever had so
many orgasms in my life as I’ve had with you.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” I said, grinning. “Speaking of which,
how about we go and take a shower? I’ll be more than happy to give you a couple
more while we’re in there. Then we ought to go downstairs and grab something to
eat. I want to keep up my strength.”

“Why? You have a day off tomorrow. No formal training. Just
a rest ready for the final.”

“That may be so, but I’m hoping to have a bedroom workout or
two…or three, with you, my darling.”

“Oh. Oh!” She blushed beautifully and I slipped my hand
behind her head and pulled her to me, brushing my lips against hers before
moving in for a deep, passionate kiss.

It was some time before we made it into the shower, never
mind the bar downstairs.

“So what are we going to do today?” I stretched my hands
over my head, feeling perfectly satisfied as Travis’ attention was drawn to my
breasts.

He took a sip from a cup of tea, licked his lips and nodded
slowly. “I’d like to do what I usually do before a final.”

“Okay, is this something we’ve discussed in session? A
pregame ritual?” I reached for my underwear, slipped it on over my shower-fresh
body then grabbed a soft sweater and jeans. His attention didn’t leave me for a
second.

“No,” he said.

There was something in his tone that halted me. Instead of
reaching for my hairbrush I turned, caught his gaze. “So tell me.” There was
something about his slightly creased brow and the set of his jaw that tumbled a
pile of nervous butterflies into my belly.

“I want to play,” he said, setting down his tea and shifting
on the bed. His golden skin and dark hair were a startling contrast against the
paper-white hotel sheets.

“Play?” I repeated.

“Yes.” He folded his arms, his biceps bulging, the tendons
in his forearms flexing. “Play with
you
.”

“But I’m no good at tennis.”

He laughed. “There will be balls involved, sweetheart, but
not tennis balls.” He shifted the sheet, stood and, gloriously naked, walked up
to me and rested his hands on my shoulders. “Marie, I told you I had a dark
side, a side of me that I kept well controlled, the lid on tight, and I do,
we’ve done some stuff, fun stuff. But today…” He paused, licked his lips and
frowned. “Today I want to take that a step further.”

Okay, now I was nervous. Spanking had been fun. I’d learned
to surrender to him, mix pain with pleasure. Treat him as my Master in the
bedroom. But what else did he want from me?

“There’s a club downtown. I’ve been there before when I’ve
been to New York. It’s the epitome of discreet.” He touched his lips to the tip
of my nose. “I want us to spend the afternoon there. It will be quiet that time
of day, we can have a drink, a look around, then shut ourselves into a
playroom.”

“A playroom.”

“Yes, exactly, and play.”

“And this is good for you the day before a major
tournament?”

“Hell yeah, it’s always been just the thing in the past but
with you, it will make me invincible.” He glanced away, at the floor.

“So who have you been to these clubs with before?” I had to
ask. The words fell out before I could stop them. I had no right to be jealous
of women in his past, of course I didn’t. But that fact seemed to go unnoticed
by my heart. The emotion was there, sticky and raw.

“I haven’t had anyone special in my life for a long time,
tennis has ruled my world. But…”

“But?”

“But luckily my mate, Kevin, he didn’t mind sharing with
me.”

“Sharing?” I couldn’t keep the shock from my voice. “What,
like an orgy?”

“No, no, I don’t have any desire to go anywhere near another
man’s erection, believe you me. No, he let me play with his submissive Elle
whenever I needed to have some release.”

I thought I knew Travis, we’d been together a while now, but
he’d shared his mate’s girlfriend, no, submissive? That really was a bit of a
mind-bender. “So how did that work? You just called and said you wanted sex and
he sent her over?”

Travis shook his head. “No, it was always at his London
club. To start with she switched between the two of us, but then he reached a
point in his life where he was able to offer her everything she wanted, 24/7.”

“Which was?”

“To be a full-time submissive. She wanted the lifestyle.”

“And you couldn’t offer that.”

A flash of regret passed over his eyes and something in my
chest tightened.

“No, I couldn’t. Not only that, I wouldn’t have wanted to,
they’re perfect for each other. It would have been wrong of me to come between
them. I was fond of her but I didn’t love her.”

“But you could still use her, for sex.”

“I don’t think
use
is the right word, or if it was,
she was using me as much as I was her. It was a symbiotic relationship between
the three of us. Kevin needed a night off occasionally, she was damn near
insatiable. And we both liked to play, a lot.” A wistful smile tugged his lips.

“So what did you do with her when you played? Tell me. Do
that stuff with me. Let’s go to this club, right now.” I grabbed my brush and
dragged it through my hair. “Come on, we’ve had breakfast.” I pointed at the trolley
strewn with croissants and banana skins and empty cereal boxes. “What are we
waiting for?”

He laughed, gathered me close and pressed a hard kiss to my
lips. “Your enthusiasm is infectious. Yes, let’s go.” He lowered his voice. “I
only hope you don’t regret asking to see this side of me.”

“Never.”

* * * * *

Travis had been right, the club was discreet. So discreet it
didn’t even have a name, just a black door in a side alley in Greenwich
Village. He plucked his cell from his pocket, dialed and said one word to
whoever answered. “Catfish.” The door clicked open an inch.

“Once inside,” Travis said with his hand on the door “you
will be absolutely submissive. I am your Master and you will not forget to call
me Sir. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.” Oh God. I was a bubbling mass of need and
apprehension. What the hell had I gotten myself into? His voice, his deep,
husky voice, the way he was staring at me as if I were a lamb to the slaughter.
I was on a one-way ride to my own sordid version of paradise.

A woman with startling red hair took our coats and hung them
on a rack.

“I booked a room,” Travis said to her.

“Yes Sir, room five is waiting for you. The place is rather
quiet at the moment though.”

“Suits us just fine.” He took my hand and led me down a
narrow corridor. I got the feeling he’d been here many times.

“Quiet doesn’t mean empty,” he said, stopping when we came
to a large room that seemed entirely covered in red velvet—the walls, the
floor, the big sofas and cushions.

“No, I see what you mean.”

There was a threesome on the closest sofa. Having a great
time by the sound of it. The woman, on her hands and knees, was being fucked by
a long, lean man with skin the color of the darkest night. She was also sucking
a cock. It belonged to a shorter, tubbier man with a large dragon tattoo on his
right pectoral. She was being shunted forward, pulled back, moaning and
groaning and completely at their mercy.

“Spit roast,” Travis said. “Does it appeal to you?”

I shook my head. “No, I only want you, Sir.”

“That was the right answer.” He squeezed my hand. “Come on,
there’s not much to see and I can forsake the drink. We’ll start our fun right
now.”

“Yes Sir.” I swallowed the tremor in my voice, determined
not to be nervous. I trusted Travis implicitly. Oh, I know he talked about
darkness and pain and letting go, but how bad could it get? We were in love, we
made
love. A little sprinkle of kink was fine. Perfectly fine.

Or so I would keep telling myself.

He opened a glossed wooden door and urged me into room five.
Squat church candles were set on high shelves, flickering gently and giving a
shadowy, ethereal glow. In the center of the room was a black padded bench.
Like a surgical table, it had stirrups for resting feet and calves in.

“Do you know what that is?” he asked, pointing to the wall.

Set against the brickwork was a large black cross at an
angle so the triangle at the bottom had its base parallel to the floor. Like
the bench, it appeared padded.

“No.” I shook my head.

“It’s a St. Andrew’s Cross,” Travis said, releasing my hand
and stroking my hair over my shoulder. “And I’m going to tie you to it. Hands
up there, ankles at the base, and do sinful things to your body that will hurt
you, make you cry out with ecstasy and then float you into a place where only I
exist.”

“Yes Sir.” It sounded like a whole lot of fun, sure, but
there was something about the way Travis was holding himself—he was jittery, as
if excited or keeping something back. It wasn’t like him. I’d reached the point
I could read him easily, but now… There was definitely something off and it was
as sexy as it was unnerving.

“Time to lose the clothes,” he said.

I quickly stripped and as each item was removed, he
carefully folded it onto a high-backed chair in the corner of the room. He then
flicked open a box, fiddled with something little and metallic and turned back
to me.

“Squeeze your tits,” he said. “Get your nipples good and
hard.”

They already were, the slightly cool air of the room and the
thought of what was coming had lusty hormones racing through my system. I did
as he asked, fondling and squeezing, tugging at my nipples until they were
erect points jutting forward.

“Mmm, perfect,” he said, stooping to suck first the right
and then the left into his mouth. He sucked hard and possessively, making
greedy wet noises.

I ran my hands into his thick but feathery-soft hair.
Allowed a hiss of air to squeeze past my teeth.

“Now for these.” As he spoke I felt the chill of metal
clamping around my right nipple.

“Ouch, I—”

“Shh, it’s all good, it will just heighten the sensation,
trust me.”

I watched, half fascinated and half wanting to wince as he
attached the opposite one.

“I haven’t made them tight,” he said. “Just enough so you
know they’re there. To remind you that your body belongs to me.”

“Yes Sir.” I let the discomfort turn into an erotic torment,
felt moisture collect between my legs. It felt nice, this claiming. I wanted
him to have me in every sense.

“Now over to the cross,” he said.

I stepped up to it, turned so that my back was against it.

“No, no.” He gripped my shoulders, spun me. “I want to get
to your arse, Marie. Face this way.”

My sore nipples pressed against the frame and I gasped as he
stretched both my arms up high, locking me in place by my wrists. Next my
ankles were attached, leaving my pussy spread open and vulnerable.

“Now that is a great view,” he said from down by my right
foot. “All ready and waiting for me.” He kissed my calf, behind my knee, my
buttock and the hollow of my back. He trailed his fingers up the inside my
thigh, over my pussy and rested over my back hole. “I’ve noticed you’ve got a
bit of a thing about poking into my secret place,” he said, his breath hot on
my skin.

I said nothing. It hadn’t seemed like a question.

“I think it’s time to return the favor.”

He left me for a moment but then was back, kissing, nipping
at my buttocks, grazing the skin with his teeth. Again I felt pressure on my
anus, this time cool, lubed pressure.

“Sir,” I gasped.

“Has anyone breached you here?” he asked.

“I, yes, no, sort of…” Damn how did I answer that?

“So which is it? Tell me.” His tone was steely.

“I did once, with a plug.” A wave of mortification washed
over me. I’d never told another living person about that one moment of anal
experimentation.

He chuckled. “And did you like it?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good, because that’s what coming for you again.” As he
spoke, something hard and tapered and unforgiving pushed into my back entrance.

I squirmed and gasped at the rude invasion. It didn’t hurt,
it was just shocking to be breached so intimately.

“Arch your back,” he said, gripping my hip. “I want to see
your arsehole stretching for me, taking this plug. Come on, baby, just a little
bit more.”

I fisted my hands, squeezed my eyes shut. It hurt now. It
was big, how much wider would it get?

“Nearly there,” he said, touching my poor stretched skin,
rubbing the cool, soothing lube around the entry point.

Suddenly it popped in. My anus clenched around the base of
the plug and I let out a breath I hadn’t even known I’d been holding.

“So pretty,” Travis said. “Well done. And see how wet you
are? That’s made you horny as fuck, hasn’t it, babe?” He slid his fingers
around my slippery pussy, flicked over my clit and then sneaked a couple of
fingers into my entrance.

I groaned at the wonderful feeling of him entering me there
while my arse was so full and taut. My clit was humming, my pussy desperately
in need of filling.

“Not yet,” he said, “first the other sensation you have come
to crave.”

Oh God, was he going to spank me with the plug in my arse? I
twisted against the frame. It was fastened solid, didn’t even rattle when I
sagged my weight onto it.

The movement of air was the first thing I noticed, and then
a split second later a blinding slap of agony on my buttocks. I cried out,
unashamed of the noise.

“Ow, what the fuck?”

He pressed his lips to my ear. “Don’t forget, you can always
say the safe word.”

I shook my head. Already the pain was blooming, as it always
did when he struck me, but this was different. It wasn’t his hand, it was
something else.

I strained to see. He took pity on me and held up a flogger
with several long, thin tails made of what appeared to be suede.

“Meet Cat,” he said. “Now get ready, this is going to hurt,
but of course, in a very good way.”

He struck again and again. Each time I flinched, fighting
against my restraints and clamping my arse around the plug. He didn’t
concentrate solely on my buttocks the way he did when he spanked me, instead he
drifted the flogger upward to my shoulders, down almost to my knees. My thighs,
I discovered, were particularly sensitive.

The pain was white-hot, electric. I was on fire. Still
Travis swung over and over. My moans had turned into one long mewl. It was both
pleasure and torture. My pussy was thumping with need, my nipples dragging hard
on the cross, the clamps heightening the sensation in them.