His Angel (13 page)

Flipping over, she glared at him. "What was that for?"

He gave her an evil grin. "The Dom in me felt like it."

"Well, tell the Dom in you to have a little sympathy for the half-unconscious. You wore me out."

Chuckling, he picked her up in his arms, carrying her into the bathroom and straight into his extra-large walk-in shower. "I hope I didn't wear you out too much, because I'm ready for more."

Her expression was one of shock as she looked at his groin after he let go of her legs, allowing her to stand. Grinning, he walked her backward under the spray of hot water coming from both sides of the shower as well as above. She reached down and made a fist around his still growing erection. "I think I might have some energy left since you're obviously up for it."

He let her slowly pump his shaft as he tossed the condom on a shelf and grabbed a bottle of body soap, squirting some out into his hand. Lathering it up, he started with her neck and shoulders and cleaned every inch of her body, spending extra attention to her breasts, ass and crotch. When he was done, he allowed her to do the same to him, letting her explore to her obvious delight. She admired his two tattoos–the tribal band around his left upper arm and the American flag and anchor above his right shoulder blade. Her hands traced his various scars, asking how he'd gotten each one. He couldn't recall how he got some of them but there were three he received in combat which he would never forget. The three-inch scar on his left upper arm and another five-inch one on his abdomen were knife wounds which had caused little damage. But a gunshot wound pucker on his left chest above his heart was a constant reminder of how dangerous some of his Navy tours had been. The doctors had told him if he'd been hit a little lower he would've left Iraq in a body bag.

He hadn't been wearing his bullet-proof vest as he left the mess hall when an Iraqi policeman, who'd been allowed on their base for training, decided he wanted to switch his allegiance. While two marines had been killed, he and another SEAL had been wounded in the three-second attack before the traitor was taken out by Marco who'd been a few steps behind Ian. Luckily, one of his ribs stopped the low caliber bullet and after only two days in the hospital he was able to return to the states until cleared for duty again. His Purple Heart was stored with the rest of his medals in a valet box on his dresser.

After he told her about the scars he could remember getting, she kissed each one and he was touched by her tender actions. But he soon shook those thoughts from his brain not wanting to let her close to his heart where he was most vulnerable because he was never letting history repeat itself. Grabbing her hips, he spun her around so she was facing a built-in tiled bench. He reached for the condom he'd tossed earlier. "Bend over, sweetheart, and put your hands on the bench. You can cum whenever you need to this time." Ian sheathed himself, then squirted a little more soap into his hands. Running his fingers down the crack of her ass, he worked his slick fingers into her back hole. First one, followed by two. He soon had her moaning and writhing as he thrust them in and out, scissoring them to stretch her further. As much as he wanted to take her there, she wasn't ready for the size of him. He'd have to pick up a set of progressive anal plugs to prepare her properly. For now though, he'd use his fingers. As he continued to fuck her ass, he lined his latex covered cock up with her core and plunged into her. She came instantly but he had more control this time and set a steady pace, determined to get one or two more orgasms from her.

Angie's legs shook as one orgasm ebbed and another built behind it like waves in the ocean. Was it possible to die from too much incredible sex? She hoped not because she wanted to experience as much of it as she could before she died. Ian was a skilled lover who was able to make her body sing in ways it never had before. He shifted his hips and with the new angle found her hidden G-spot and sent her over the edge again. The combination of his cock and fingers taking her at the same time made her cum hard and if it wasn't for him holding her around the waist with his free hand, she would've sank to the tiled floor. The third time she exploded, she took him with her and he grunted his release.

Several hours later, Angie awoke to Ian's mouth and tongue between her legs. The man was insatiable and, apparently, so was she as she came twice before he took her pussy again. With reluctance, he'd agreed to let her go home after she told him she didn't want to spend the whole night with his niece sleeping down the hallway. After making her promise to text him when she got home safe, he allowed her to get dressed in the clothes and flip-flops Jenn had loaned her. In the meantime, he threw on a pair of his own sweatpants and a tee. She grabbed her other clothes and he walked her to her car, which was still parked down by the club, with Beau as an escort. The lot was empty since the club had closed about an hour earlier and the guard had secured the exterior gate after everyone had left before heading home himself. Before Angie got into her car, Ian kissed her with a vow to call her in the afternoon and then walked over to open the gate for her. She drove home with a very satisfied smile on her face and delicious aches throughout her body.

Angie stood naked in her bathroom as she aimed the hairdryer at her wet locks. It was Friday evening and Ian was taking her to his club tonight. They'd seen each other twice during the week but Trident meetings, interviews and cases prevented them from having more than one full night together alone. She hadn't seen him since very early Wednesday morning. Although they'd had some more phone sex, which was so hot she was surprised her local cell tower didn't explode, she was dying to see him again.

Monday, Ian had invited her to join them at Devon and Kristen's as the team got together for Jenn to help her through the first anniversary of her parent's death. Pizza, beer and soda served as a simple dinner while they played poker and watched a video of pictures of the young woman and her parents from before she was born through her late teens. The final photos of her folks were taken during their last Christmas together. Many of the photos included some or all of the Trident team members, in addition to other former SEALs who made up Jenn's extended family. The men and their niece entertained Kristen and Angie with countless funny stories of the team's antics over the years. Angie had left the group a little after midnight when Ian and Brody ended up needing to have a late-night video conference with a client who'd called them with an urgent request for their assistance in some matter.

She’d spent Tuesday night in Ian's arms as they finally had his apartment all to themselves. They'd also gone through the contract and discussed her limits and his expectations. She was surprised none of his requests bothered her in any way. He would have control over her in the bedroom and push her boundaries all within her green and yellow limits. He also had control over her well-being and safety but instead of disliking it, she felt pampered and valued because he cared enough to make sure no harm came to her. While the contract was not legally binding, it took out a lot of the guess work of the relationship. But most of all, it stressed she had the ultimate control of their relationship through her safe-word and limit list.

He'd been in Miami since Wednesday, but spoke to her by phone last night and asked her if she wanted to go to The Covenant with him. Waiving the club's monthly membership fee, he'd expedited her required background check. She, in turn, had her medical release completed for him, so they were free to play at the club and she jumped at the chance to go.

She'd been shocked when Brody had stopped by earlier in the day and gave her a small black shopping bag with red trim on it. He told her Ian had picked out two outfits for her from the club store and to choose one to wear to the club for her first time. Winking and grinning before he turned to walk away, Brody had informed her, "My personal favorite is the pink and white one."

He'd left her standing there with her mouth open. When she had recovered he was long gone and she raced into her bedroom to see what was in the bag. The first outfit–actually they weren't 'outfits,' they were lingerie sets–was a dark green, silk bra with matching short-shorts. But it was the pale, pink baby-doll top and thong with white trim which she chose to wear without a second thought. The material was sheer except for three small triangles–one over each breast and the other over her mound.

Now, as she got dressed, she realized the hem stopped right at the bottom of her butt cheeks and if she bent over, everyone would see her bare ass, even though it was already exposed through the thin material. The top's silk triangles covered the nipples of her 38D's but left little else to the imagination. She admired herself in the mirror and instead of feeling slutty, she felt beautiful, sexy and very, very naughty. Technically it showed a little more than her bikini did during the summer but she'd never worn a bathing suit with a thong. After she threw on a little makeup and a pair of white sandals, which Brody had recommended since at the club she would be barefoot, she pulled on a knee-length black cotton dress. Tank-styled, it was light-weight and she sometimes wore it as a cover-up for her bathing suit. Grabbing a thin wrap for the cooler evening air and her overnight bag, she left her apartment and drove over to the compound, excited for Ian to see her in the outfit he'd picked out for her.

He had told her to park outside his apartment and as she pulled up, Ian stepped out of the building and she almost drooled at the sight of him. Damn, the man was gorgeous. Tight, black leather pants covered his long, powerful legs and an open black leather vest showcased his sculpted chest, abdomen and arms. Add in his black leather boots and he looked like he walked off the set of a biker movie. If the rest of the cast looked like him, she'd be front row center at the theater on opening night.

He opened her car door and extended his hand to help her out. His gaze raked possessively and seductively over her body, and that’s all it took for her to become aroused. After giving her a long, leisurely kiss hello, he took her keys, purse and overnight bag, and placed them inside his apartment door before returning to her. He removed a white and black braided band from his pocket and clasped the leather collar around her neck, telling her she was to wear it at all times whenever they were at the club. "I also don't want you at the club unless you're with me, at least until you become more comfortable and familiar with the protocols." He paused. "Scratch that. I don't ever want you in the club without me."

She didn't mind because she wasn't sure she wanted to go there without him. For some reason, it seemed like she would be cheating on him if she did. "Yes, Sir."

They chatted as they walked across the compound and up into the club lobby. He introduced her to Matthew, the submissive on duty at the front desk, and Tiny, the massive, bald black bouncer at the door. Despite his intimidating size, Tiny was a very sweet man and called all the women ‘Miss’ along with their first names, which Angie found endearing. Ian told her the man was the head of security at the club and also did the occasional bodyguard job for Trident.

After Tiny opened one of the double doors letting them step into the club, Ian instructed her to go through the other door which led to the locker rooms and leave her wrap, dress and shoes in a locker. He handed her a simple lock to use and told her to return to him at the bar, pointing to where he intended to wait for her a few feet away. She went through the door and down the closest set of stairs which had a sign indicating the ladies' locker room. In addition to the lockers, there were the bathroom and shower areas, as well as a little lounge and vanity area. A few women were already there and two of them said a polite hello to her as they walked out the door leading to the pit. One of them was wearing a black vinyl cat-suit while the other one was dressed in only a thong with pasties on her nipples and Angie couldn't help her gaping stare at their retreating backs. Another woman about her age smiled at her and held out her hand in greeting. "Hi, I'm Shelby. You must be new here."

Angie grinned at the woman's bubbly personality and her electric-blue straight hair which matched her bra and short skirt set. She shook Shelby's hand. "Hi, I'm Angie and, yes, tonight is my first night. I've never been in a club like this before, so I'm a little nervous."

Shelby's eyes widened a little and she laughed. "A newbie-newbie? Wow, are you in for a culture shock. I remember my first time about twelve years ago and sometimes I'm still surprised I went back a second time after some of the things I saw. Who's your master?" At Angie's confused look, she added, "Your collar means you're someone's sub."

She was so nervous and excited, Angie had forgotten she had it on. Fingering the soft leather, she said, "Oh, right. I'm here with Ian...I mean, Master Ian."

The other submissive got a dreamy-eyed look on her face. "Master Ian is such a dreamboat. In fact, his brother and the rest of the guys at Trident are too. I think it's some sort of a requirement they have over there."

Even though Angie agreed, she had a sudden pang of jealousy wondering if Ian and Shelby had ever hooked up together. Shaking it off, she told herself she had no right to inquire about his past lovers, even though she'd asked about the bitch, Heather, the night of the gala. He hadn't asked her about her past relationships so she assumed they were both leaving their own personal baggage behind them. The point was, he was here with her and he'd told her earlier in the week that while they were dating, he insisted they be exclusive. Ian didn't like to share, which worked out well because neither did Angie.

"Just remember," Shelby was telling her, "don't be rude or snarky to a Dom or Domme and stay out of trouble. Those are the easiest ways to get a punishment." She giggled. "Unless it's what you're in the mood for. Remember your safe-word and if you're unsure of anything, tell Master Ian immediately. The Doms aren't mind readers, so you have to speak up if there's a problem or you're scared about something. And if Master Ian isn't next to you for some reason, and there's a problem, grab any of the Dungeon Masters, they're in gold vests, or a security officer in a red shirt and bow tie."

When Shelby left her alone, saying she would see her later, Angie picked out an empty locker. She felt a little better after talking to the friendly woman but the butterflies in her stomach were still fluttering around. Before she lost her nerve, she threw her wrap and shoes into the small metal space and lifted her dress over her head, hanging it on the hook provided. Closing the locker, she put the small three-digit lock on it, then went over to a full length mirror to make sure her hair and makeup were still okay. Satisfied, she took a deep breath and headed for the stairs again, convincing herself she was ready for anything.

Ian was right where he said he'd be, talking to Devon, Kristen, and another man Angie didn't recognize. She was happy to see Kristen again and felt less nervous when she saw the other woman in a red lace teddy and panties. The others greeted her as she approached but her gaze was on the appreciation she saw in Ian's face. It was obvious he was delighted with her choice of lingerie for the evening. He pulled her to his side and gave her a kiss which would've knocked her socks off if she'd been wearing any. When he finally let her up for air, he introduced her to the other man standing next to him. "Angie, this is Master Carl. Carl, be nice to my submissive, Angie. This is her first time in a club."

The older man appeared to be in his fifties and was slim and a little shorter than Ian. His greying black hair, goatee, black dress shirt and leather pants almost gave him the look of a vampire, minus the fangs, but his smile put her at ease. "Ian, I do love the Sawyer brothers' taste in women. Angie, my dear, Master Ian knows how much I enjoy teasing new subs but since he asked me not to, I will graciously welcome you to The Covenant. But if you're ever in the mood for a whipping, please come and see me."

Angie's eyes widened in astonishment, but she relaxed again when Ian growled while Devon and Kristen laughed. "That's what you call being nice?" He turned his head back to her. "Master Carl is a sadist, Angel, in addition to being a tease. He likes to make the subs nervous but you have nothing to worry about because underneath, he's really a big softie."

Carl scoffed. "Oh thanks, Ian. If you give away all my secrets, I won't have any fun."

The others laughed and Angie heard another male voice whisper into her ear from behind, "I'm glad to see you chose the white one, darlin'."

Brody. He looked sexy in a tight black T-shirt, snug worn jeans and cowboy boots. The submissives of the club must fight over him all the time. For a computer geek, he was far from nerdy looking, with his broad shoulders and chiseled torso. And for some reason, he was the only one she felt a little embarrassed about standing in front of in her current state of undress. Maybe because, aside from the day she stood in their team meeting in her underwear, he'd seen her almost every day fully clothed. As her cheeks turned tomato-red, Brody winked and gave her a quick peck on the cheek and did the same to Kristen. "Hey there, Ninja-girl. You're looking as sexy as ever."

Angie was grateful Ian ordered her a glass of wine and took a beer for himself. She knew there was a drink limit if they were planning on playing, which he'd told her they were. He was carrying her membership card for her and it was how the bartenders and security staff kept track of everyone’s alcohol consumption. Access to the pit was denied if a member had more than two drinks.

The six of them chatted for a few minutes and Angie began to relax even more, despite Ian's possessive hand resting on her right butt cheek under her baby-doll top, squeezing her bare flesh every once in a while. She looked around the bar and balcony areas, eyeing people in every shape, size, age and ethnicity. They were also all in varying states of dress and she found it pretty easy to figure out whether a person was a dominant or submissive by looking at what they were wearing. It was very odd seeing a few naked subs walking around without a care but she imagined it was less of a distraction than being at a nudist beach where everyone would be undressed.

A waitress, dressed in a short black skirt, red bra and black bow-tie, approached the group and stopped next to Brody. She waited for him to stop talking, the whole time keeping her eyes cast downward. Brody finished what he was saying to Master Carl and turned to the patient submissive. "Yes, Cassandra. What can I do for you?"

"Good evening, Master Brody." The pretty brunette kept her gaze averted from the Dom's face. "Master Marco is a DM tonight by station four and requests you go see him when you have a moment."

He smiled and using two fingers, tilted the woman's face up so she had to look at him. "Thank you, sweetheart. If you're interested in doing a scene when your shift is over, come find me. Okay?"