9 - Breaking Free (Masters of the Shadowlands #3) Page 9

The Dom snarled and pulled out just as Nolan set a finger down right on top of her overstimulated clit and pressed.

“Ah, ah, ah, aaaahhh.” Unmuffled this time, her screams rolled through the club. Her pussy rippled around Nolan’s cock as her hips made futile bucking jerks against the straps. As her climax lessened, the little sub’s whole body shuddered.

“You know, I really don’t get the impression she’s faking.” Nolan glanced at Cullen. “You get bit again?”

When Cullen growled, “You’re such an asshole,” the sub’s eyes widened. She tilted her head up, obviously terrified she’d nipped Cullen’s cock.

Cullen barked a laugh and tugged on her hair. “I pulled out, love. Now open up.” When she opened her mouth, he thrust into her again.

Nolan’s strokes were slow and easy as Cullen’s became stronger. Sally dropped her head back farther, letting him deep-throat her. A few more strokes and Cullen’s face grew flushed. He looked at Nolan. “Let’s do it.”

Nolan started thrusting in unison with Cullen, fast and deep. As the sub’s pussy constricted around him, his balls drew up. They were pounding into her so hard, she grunted with each thrust.

When Nolan stroked a finger right beside her clit, and Cullen pinched her nipples, the sub’s whole body went rigid, and she keened, the sound blurred by the thick cock in her mouth.

Nolan smothered his laugh at the sound of the sub’s wail. He knew she was close even without the telltale tightening around his cock. His cock was straining to release, the urge becoming all-consuming. Increasing the pressure, he stroked her clit in rhythm with his thrusts. Her high wails turned into shrieks as she went over.

As she convulsed around him, he gripped her hips, holding her so securely that his fingers dug into her soft flesh. He pumped into her with short, intense strokes and finally let himself come, his cock jerking so hard with the release that his vision blurred.

Across the bench, Cullen gave a bellow as he got off.

Nolan felt the sub’s legs still quivering in his grip. Her wails had diminished to moans of satisfaction. He slid in and out gently, enjoying the rippling aftershocks milking his cock. As he started to pull out, he glanced down at Sally’s clean-shaven pussy and thought of Beth’s soft folds, her slickness on his fingers.

How would it feel to bury himself in Beth’s pussy and see those red curls surround his cock like a glowing fire?

Chapter Four

She’d had an orgasm. During the week that followed, Beth couldn’t keep her brain from circling back to that, over and over. As she mowed lawns, trimmed bushes, cleaned up debris. As she fertilized, sprayed, and weeded. As she designed and planted new flowerbeds.

Now, late Friday afternoon, at her apartment complex’s pool, she balanced on the diving board and dove in. She surfaced with a gasp of pleasure, the water cool against her overheated skin. The faint scent of chlorine mingled with the fragrance of banana and coconut suntan lotion wafting from the women on the lounge chairs. They fluttered and chattered like a flock of birds, casting flirtatious looks at the two men at a nearby table.

Beth sighed. She’d had so much trouble finding a furnished apartment in a decent area that she’d resigned herself to a singles-only complex. But she didn’t belong here with these carefully made-up women who never got in the water. She felt like a common daisy planted amidst orchids.

But as Beth finished her laps and sat on the pool’s edge, she realized she felt pretty today. Last week, a man had looked at her, at all of her, and shown his pleasure. Had obviously enjoyed touching her. She glanced down at her suit, at her almost nonexistent cleavage. The girls, as a friend like to call her breasts, seemed to sit a little higher, appear a little perkier. And if that wasn’t the dumbest thing she’d ever—

“Hi.”

At the sound of a man’s voice, Beth turned so quickly she almost fell into the water. Heart pounding, she looked up. One of the men from the table loomed over her. Lanky, nicely tanned, hair carefully styled.

“Hi,” she answered, pressing a hand to her chest. Being so panicky was liable to give her a heart attack one of these days.

“I’m new here,” he said, holding his hand down to help her up. “My name’s Todd.”

“I’m Beth.” She let him pull her to her feet, his hand soft, lacking calluses. When had she started to find a rough hand attractive?

“Want to join me and my friend? We’re just hanging out, unwinding from work.”

“Uh, no, thanks.” She went through this about once a week. Her answer never changed. “I’ve got other plans.” Taking a shower, heating up some soup, watching TV. “But thank you.”

“That’s too bad. Maybe next time.” He smiled, then his eyes widened as he noticed the scars showing around the edges of her very concealing black suit.

She shrugged. “Nasty car accident,” she said, lying without any remorse whatsoever.

An hour later, back in her tiny furnished apartment decorated in one-color-fits-all beige, Beth stared sightlessly at the car chase on the television. Tomorrow was Saturday. She’d see Master Nolan again. Her heart did a slow somersault inside her chest

She wanted to see him with an urgency she hadn’t felt since meeting Kyler. Kyler who she’d been convinced truly loved her.

She’d been so very wrong.

Her hand tightened on the mug of tomato soup. She dreamed of Master Nolan every night, of his sure hands moving on her body, of the intense look in his eyes and how he saw her every reaction. In her dreams, her body would warm, arousal shooting through her… And then his face would blur into Kyler’s. The sound of his rough voice would meld into Kyler’s refined one. She’d hear the snap of the single-tail and then her grunts of pain when he shoved himself into her dryness.

Oh, God, what was she doing?

At one time, she’d loved Kyler so much she hadn’t seen past his movie-star good looks to the monster inside. But if she could be so wrong about him, she could be wrong about anyone. There was no way to tell who a person was inside.

And although Master Nolan hadn’t hurt her, he easily could. He was a Dom. Someone who wanted control. Complete control. She couldn’t give him that. She didn’t trust him…or herself.

She took a sip of her soup and had to force herself to swallow. Nolan had done what she’d hoped for. He’d made her feel alive again. And she’d felt something besides fear. But he demanded too much. She was relinquishing too much of her control over her body…and her emotions. Her body might survive, but… She sighed miserably.

Before Kyler, she’d been tough, as sturdy as kudzu. You could jump up and down on the invasive vine, and it would just keep growing. After Kyler? Now she felt like an impatiens—step on it even gently, the stem would break, and it would die.

Her hands curled around the cup of soup, trying to absorb the warmth as cold grew inside her. Being with Master Nolan again was just too big of a risk. She needed to back away. But how? And what would Z do?

Pursing her lips, she considered. What if she got someone else to top her tomorrow? If that worked out, then Master Z wouldn’t cancel her membership, would he?

And Master Nolan wouldn’t want her if she humiliated him by obviously preferring another Dom.

She thought of his black eyes, his ruthless face, and shivered.

As twilight gathered around him, Nolan hammered one last nail into the board before rising to his feet. He rocked back and forth on his tiny dock—the structure no longer swayed under his weight. Good. One less chore on his list. His place had sure gone to hell while he’d been gone.

After wiping the sweat from his forehead, he sat on the end of the dock and listened to the background hum of his world. Water lapped softly against the wood. An egret flapped slowly overhead, a flash of white in the dark sky. A barred owl gave a series of hoots from the trees farther down. Around the water’s edge, crickets trilled, and frogs chirped with the occasional bass note of a bullfrog. Near the center of the lake, a fish jumped, splashing back into the water.

In the desert, he’d craved the sounds of Florida, the feel of the humid air moistening his skin, the rich tropical scents with the underlying odor of sulphurous water. It felt damned good to be home.

Even if that home was empty.

He glanced back at his big house, designed and built to hold a family. Last year, he’d been happy to release Felicia, and she deserved to have someone who loved her more than he had. And someone who enjoyed being a full-time master. But he was fucking lonely at times.

As if summoned, his cell phone rang, the jarring noise silencing the frog chorus for a moment. He glanced at the display. His oldest brother.

“Hey, Adam, how’s it going?”

“Life’s good. Ah…you doing okay?”

A corner of Nolan’s mouth turned up at the careful concern. During the years in covert ops, Nolan had been a damn fine killer, but it had taken its toll, and his brutal, bloody nightmares had terrified his family. Adam undoubtedly knew that Iraq had reawakened his ghosts. But Nolan had put them back to rest. Eventually. Being home was good. Getting little redheaded subs off was even better. “I’m fine, bro. Stop worrying. And how is everyone?”

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