Learning to Live with Her Master [Prometheus in Chains 4] (Siren Publishing Classic) (5 page)

Jane was bone weary after the flight home and the emotional upheaval. She knew what he was, all that he was. He’d made it clear to her, and she’d accepted him for better or for worse. That was an odd choice of phrase but the Collaring Ceremony was as strong as marriage in the lifestyle. She felt his thick erection pressing into her bottom and smiled. She would never deny him the comfort of her body. After all, who was she kidding, it was not just
his
comfort. They were lying spooned together, just the way she liked to sleep, with his strong arms around her, and her back to his chest. He bent her forward pushing her onto her stomach with one leg bent. Then, he finger fucked her a few times, his fingers twisting and scissoring as he pushed them in and out. She moaned her appreciation, her breath coming in short pants.

“Yes, Master. That feels so good. Please, I want your cock deep inside me now.”

“Impatient as ever, mo run. But I want to fuck you as hard and as much as you want it. I love your delicious little pussy as hot and tight and wet as always. You’re amazing, and I love you.”

His fingers left her to be replaced by his throbbing cock. She felt he could wait no longer to take her. He held her firmly in place with his fingers digging deep into her hips. There was something substantial for him to grasp, she thought and smiled. Then she could think no more as his thick cock sunk home to the balls in her hot, wet cunt. He began to pump in and out, slowly at first, but with ever-increasing speed, and she understood his need to claim her and to possess her. She was content for it to be so. She was
his
. He reached round and rubbed her clit, and she felt her orgasm coming. She writhed and shook as he held her firmly and pistoned in and out of her, his long, thick cock hitting the neck of her womb with every stroke. Then he pinched her swollen clit between his thumb and forefinger.

“Come for me now.” He growled, and she exploded in a tremendous release.

“Master!” she screamed. She thought she saw stars, and she screamed his name again, not caring if his nephews heard as the muscles of her pussy convulsed around his cock and brought him to a shattering release, too. She felt his hot seed pump into her and flood her, and she sighed in contentment. She wouldn’t let him pull out of her. She didn’t want him to leave her. She needed the connection to him now more than ever. She straightened up and cuddled back into him. He held her in his arms, his muscular strength surrounding and comforting her. His hands strayed to her breast, and slowly and tenderly he caressed her, murmuring her name. With a contented sigh, a smile on her face, and his softening cock still buried inside her, she drifted off to sleep, feeling his heart still beating fast at her back. They slept long and late.

The next morning when Master Angus awoke, Jane wasn’t in bed. He supposed she was making breakfast and was heading to the bathroom when there was a tremendous crash in the kitchen. He flew out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Skidding to a halt in the kitchen door, he saw Jane on her knees picking up shards of pottery and putting them in the bin. She was in some distress.

“What is it, are you hurt?” he asked anxiously.

“No, Master. I was emptying the dishwasher and carrying them over to put away in the cupboard when they fell out of my hands.”

“How? Why?”

“Well, you know I have arthritis. Sometimes it just happens that my hands let things go without warning. I’m so sorry I broke so many of your lovely dishes.” Her eyes filled with tears which she fought to control.

“There are spares in the top cupboard so do not take on so, mo run. They are of no importance. Have you cut yourself?”

She was clutching a wad of kitchen paper in one hand, so he took it out of her hand and found a fairly deep cut, and the kitchen paper was bright with her blood. He took her to the bathroom, cleaned the wound with antiseptic, and bandaged it, by which time she was white and shaking. He sat her on his lap and cuddled her close.

“Isd, mo leannan! Hush, my love!”

He petted and soothed her until some measure of composure returned and she stopped shaking.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this aspect of it?”

“It just happens from time to time. I never know when.”

“
Why
didn’t you
tell
me?” he repeated.

“I didn’t think it was important, just a fact of life.”

“How can it not be important? Every little thing that affects you is of sublime importance to me! We
will
be discussing this when you are feeling calmer.”

“Master, are you going to punish me?”

“Yes, my little darling, I am.”

“Why, Master, for breaking the dishes?”

“No, I told you they are of no importance. You concealed from me something you should have told me.”

“No, Master,” she wailed. “I
didn’t
conceal it. I just thought it was of no importance.”

“Lie of omission,” he insisted.

“Please, Master, no.” She would have fallen to her knees if he had not held her firm in his lap.

“No, it will be my hand and over my knee.”

He had no intention of using the crop on her again, but she didn’t need to know that. He wasn’t a cruel man, just a Dom who liked his own way and he loved her to distraction. That didn’t mean that she’d be topping from the bottom. He well remembered that one stroke from before and how it seemed to hurt her, more than he’d expected. He wished he could forget it. She enjoyed her spankings, he knew, even the cane before the Collaring Ceremony had aroused and excited her, so why didn’t she like the crop? He had no idea, and she’d never said. He would like her to write a journal, maybe it would be easier for her to write what she felt. He knew many Doms insisted on one, especially in a Master/slave relationship. He didn’t want a slave, but maybe the journal would be of benefit to them both. He’d ask her later. He petted her and stroked her back until she calmed again.

“Now let’s go and clean up and make breakfast,” he suggested.

He went downstairs with her, and they finished clearing up, then he left her getting breakfast and went to shower and change.

* * * *

Angus settled Jane for a nap later that afternoon. He gave her the e-book to read in case she didn’t want to sleep. He knew she needed the rest and that if he didn’t insist, she’d keep on going until she dropped, and that wasn’t in either of their interests. He wanted her rested and ready for his loving. He picked up the phone to call his friend, an orthopedic surgeon. He explained the problem. He’d done some research online, and now he wanted further specialist advice.

“Osteo or rheumatoid?”

“Osteo. Can you find out more from her doctor?” Angus asked.

“I can’t ring him up without her permission, and even then it’s not easy. You can ask her to get in touch with her GP if you really want me to, but he’s not going to like interference.”

“What can be done about it?” Angus asked.

“Man, it’s not fixable, but there are ways to make it easier to live with. Is she on anti-inflammatories?”

“Yes.”

“Well, make sure she takes them every day. She can take a glucosamine supplement, too, but make sure it’s a good brand or it will be useless. There are gels to rub on painful joints. If she knocks any joint, it’s going to hurt like hell but above all, she must keep moving. If she doesn’t use them, her joints will become stiffer and stiffer, and she doesn’t want to go down that road.”

“She’s doing all that. She knits and sews and walks when she can.”

“Then she is doing all the right things. Swimming is very good for her, too. Get her to try it. Sorry I can’t be of more help. If she does hurt any joint badly, then you bring her straight to me, okay?” He’d make sure she took all the tablets and supplements. He went to the bathroom cabinet with the phone and found that the brand she was using was a good one, but his friend said there was a better one, so he wrote down the name and the website. He also wrote down the dose then thanked his friend and rang off. Then, he had an idea and picked up the phone again.

Jane awoke feeling a bit groggy. She hated naps, but he’d insisted, and she’d had a traumatic couple of days. She knew in her heart he was right, and she was always grumpy and out of sorts if she didn’t rest, snapping at him in particular, and he wouldn’t tolerate it. She would enjoy their loving even more if she were rested. Another thing he was right about, damn the man. But she loved him for taking care of her in spite of her objections. She went to her work room and sat at the table. She still couldn’t believe that he’d done all this for her, as surprise, before she moved in with him. She looked at the shelves stocked with all the fabric she’d ever need in beautiful rainbow colours, some bright, some muted. Her old sewing machine sat side by side with the new, all singing, all dancing model he’d bought and which she had hardly used yet. The manual itself was huge and would take forever to read, but she promised herself that once the wedding was over, she’d do a certain amount every day until she’d read it all and could use his generous gift.

Today she was going to design a quilt for Emma and her Master Eric. She could see they would be needing it very soon. The Collaring Ceremony would be taking place in the autumn, and they were already looking for houses. She wanted the quilt ready for them. She took up her pencils and began to jot down ideas. She could get a photo of Emma as a child and transfer it onto fabric and another of Master Eric. She’d make those the centre of the quilt. She’d need a couple of blocks to represent his interests, computing, and Emma’s, design. Maybe a block with the mountains of the Peak District and another with those famous cooling towers, now demolished, to represent Sheffield. She now had six and needed double that, so she needed to give it some thought or maybe ask them what else they’d like. Then the colours, neutral or bold? He loved dark blue, and so did Emma, so maybe borders in white with flowers in shades of blue? Dark blue to frame the appliquéd blocks and to bind the edges. The quilt was beginning to take shape in her mind, and she drew squares on her large pad and numbered them then made a card for each and noted what she had decided. She made another card for the borders and for the corner pieces. She’d have a mid-blue with the White Rose of Yorkshire on them. Now she needed to get out her precious design books and spend some time looking for inspiration for the other six squares. She sighed in happy anticipation. She could spend hours poring over the beautiful books, many of them from the USA, and she promised herself one of these days she’d get over there and bring back a suitcase full of books, thread, and fabric. She pinned what she could to her corkboard and filed the rest in a new folder with Emma’s name on it. How lucky she was to have such a beautiful room to work in and such resources at her fingertips. Dominant he may be, but he was very considerate of her interests always.
I’m a lucky woman.

Master had more than earned a treat. She went down to the kitchen to prepare him a paella. She put on her white apron and slung the kitchen towel over her shoulder as usual. Then she turned on the music, turned up the volume and swayed and stamped to the bass beat of the heavy metal she loved. “The Battle of Evermore” then “Boogie with Stu.” Zeppelin was still top of her pops…well after Master of course, and she smiled to herself a wicked little knowing smile that curled the corners of her mouth as she remembered the feel of his lips on her and the rasp of his five-o’clock shadow, across her nipples and elsewhere. Wonderful!

She cooked the chicken, adding the herbs, saffron, onions, and peppers. Then she fried them all together, stirring in the rice, coating it well in the saffron and herbs, adding just a little passata, then the chicken stock and salt. Leaving it to cook slowly, she got out a cup of frozen peas ready to add. She turned down the heat and went to make a salad and cut lemon wedges for the rice. Oh God, what about dessert? she thought in consternation. She looked in the cupboard and found cherry pie filling, so made a pancake batter ready to fry when they’d eaten the paella. Stuffed pancakes would be just right. There was plenty of cream for those who wanted it.

She felt, or sensed, or just knew he was home and watching her. She didn’t look to see, just decided to put on a show for him. “Puttin’ on the Style” was one of her favourite songs, and she was going to do just that and drive the watcher wild. Playing to her audience, she dipped and swayed and ran her hands suggestively up and down her body, almost but not quite caressing her breasts. She took the towel in both hands and ran it up and down her back as if drying off after a shower and hoped he was enjoying his show and that it was having the desired effect. She was not as supple as she used to be but knew keeping moving was important, and this she was really enjoying. Gyrating her hips and shaking her bottom, she put plates to warm and was arranging cutlery and glasses on the table when two large hands gripped her waist. They moved up and cupped her breasts then tweaked her nipples, and her arousal burgeoned. It never ceased to amaze her how easily he aroused her and made her blood sing in her veins. He just had to touch her anywhere, and she was as putty in his hands. Her knees turned weak, and the flames licked and danced from breasts to cunt, and her nipples hardened under his firm caresses, making her pussy flood and her clit swollen and needy in anticipation. She realised he was just as affected as she had intended with her teasing. His hands trembled. “I need to be inside you
now
!” He growled. Slowly he unbuttoned the top of her dress. She felt him tense. Then he spun her round into a fierce embrace. His tongue invaded her mouth as her lips parted to welcome him in. As he kissed her witless, his fingers played with her breasts, by now bare and aching, pinching and pulling at the nipples and she moaned. His erection pulsed against her pussy, and he ground himself against her. Being in a suit, he was more confined, so she reached down and stroked his cock, and his kiss became even more urgent. She had no intention of making him wait. She needed him inside her just as badly.