“Don't move, sub.”

Her jaw clenched, and yet heat seemed to stream off her as if from a raging forest fire.

“And what's your theory, Simon?” Logan asked.

“That with the right dom, a touch anywhere is erotic.”

The men grinned at each other. Michael said, “Perhaps you should demonstrate.”

Rona strained her ears. Nothing.

“Now, lass.” His voice seemed to caress her, despite the stern authority in it.

“Don't move. Keep your eyes on the other doms.

A quiver ran through her, and she forced herself to stay still. A moment passed. Another. He stood right behind her. She could feel his warmth and his gaze on her exposed bottom.

His fingers grazed over her ankle. She pulled in a ragged breath at the sensation and the knowledge that this was Simon's touch. A moment later, his hard hand closed around her calf and squeezed, and somehow the warmth of his skin and the slight scrape of his callous fingers sent electricity sizzling straight to her clit so fast that she had to force down a moan.

The doms burst out laughing.

Jake shook his head. “Always some bastard screwing up a good experiment.”

A low chuckle sounded behind her, and Rona stiffened. What was he going to do?

“But I have to say, Jake,” Master Simon said, “I also prefer the just-below-the-ass spot.” A pause and then his hand traced the crease between her thigh and bottom with one…deliberate…stroke. Warm, rough, firm.

No longer under her control at all, her hips pressed back against his touch.

Master Simon's laugh was deep and masculine. “Up you come, lass.

Experiment's over.” He gripped her arm and helped her stand. With a shock, she realized his other hand hadn't moved and now cupped her buttock. He squeezed slightly.

Her legs shook as she looked up at him, feeling the strength in the ruthless grip on her arm, keeping her right beside him so he could touch her as he pleased.

His fingers stroked over her bottom, slowly, and each movement increased her arousal.

When he finally released her, satisfaction glimmered in his eyes. He touched her cheek gently. “Do you know how lovely you are when you're aroused, sweetheart?”

He tilted his head at the other doms. “Thank you, gentlemen, for allowing me to participate,” he said and strode away.

As Rona tried to get her breathing under control, the doms exchanged glances.

“Well, that seemed clear enough,” Jake drawled. “You ever see Simon get territorial before?”

“Should be an interesting evening.” Logan pulled his fair-skinned sub between his knees, and the pretty sub's eyes closed in pleasure as he played with her hair. A wistful envy ran through Rona. What would it be like to sit at a man's feet, to feel his—Master Simon's—hands on her?

“Not for me, apparently,” Michael grumbled.

Rona frowned. Had she missed something?

Michael handed over her tray of drinks and smiled at her. “Off you go, pet.”

By the time she'd emptied the drink tray, she'd grown—almost—used to being on display. The excitement that Master Simon had roused hadn't dissipated at all.

The sights and sounds of people making love, of floggers and groans and whimpers, kept her in a pure state of need. Three doms had asked her to play, all interesting and pleasant men, so why had she said no?

Because she'd gotten fixated on Master Simon. Just like now, each time she spotted him, her whole body seemed to jump up and down, screaming, Him, him, him.

She set the tray down and leaned against the living-room wall. After all the lectures she'd given herself, and the goals she'd posted on the bulletin board, she was still being stupid about a man.

Chapter Six

Ah, there she was. Simon spotted his little sub leaning against the wall just outside the kitchen. He'd kept an eye on her—she continued to refuse other doms.

Good. Watching her with someone else would hurt like hell. He wanted to be the one to show her more, to bring her to orgasm. He wanted her trust…and more.

Gently, though. She'd take flight too easily.

First the bait. He set his bag beside the high recliner-style table, one of his favorites, with extra width and leather padding. One by one, he pulled the vacuum cups out of his bag and lined them up on a paper towel on a nearby coffee table.

The sub he'd commandeered in the kitchen set down a pan of bleach water.

“Ooooh, Master Simon, you're going to do cupping?”

He nodded. When he turned, he saw Rona join the people gathering around the table. If she wanted variety and exploration, he'd be happy to fulfill that need. He captured her gaze. “Come here, lass.”


A shaking started in Rona's stomach at the smoky growl of Master Simon's voice. Then the words registered. “Come here.”

“Me?” Her voice squeaked.

“You.” He rolled up one sleeve, looked over at her, and frowned. “Now.”

Oh no. She needed to think, but her feet moved her forward. Her hands went numb, and yet desire sizzled through her with each step closer. Her skin felt sensitive, the brush of her Santa coat like sandpaper. When she met his intent, measuring eyes, her chest squeezed as if he had her ribs between his big hands.

She stopped in front of him.

“Good girl.” He cupped her chin in one hard hand. “Such big eyes.” He brushed his mouth across hers and released her.

“I-I…” What had she planned to say?

“Remember the rules about speaking, little sub.” He patted the table. “I want you on here—without the coat.”

The people. She didn't have anything on but that skimpy bra and thong. Her eyes met his.

“You've watched all night but haven't played…and you want to, Rona.” He ran a finger down her cheek, his smile just for her. “I'll go slowly, little one.”

A tremor ran through her. I want to do this. And I want to do this with him.

He waited patiently, but his confident posture said he already knew her answer. How could that feel so reassuring?

She pulled off her coat and handed it to him, shivering at the feeling of air—

and eyes—against her skin.

“Good girl.” The approval in his dark eyes warmed her. He grasped her around the waist and set her on the countertop-high table, then swung her legs up.

The slick leather chilled her bottom, and she clenched her hands in her lap.

“Now, tell me. Do you want to watch or just feel?”

She bit her lip and stared at the clear glass cups, which suddenly seemed a little ominous. “Watch.”

“All right.” He adjusted the table to lean her back in a reclining position.

Before she could object, he tugged open the ribbons on her bra and pulled it off.

Great. Baby-chewed breasts with white stretch marks. She forced her hands to stay in her lap and not cover them.

To her surprise, his eyes held only appreciation as he looked at her for a long, long moment. When his callous hands finally cupped her breasts, her back arched.

Somehow she felt as if she'd been waiting for his touch all night. His thumbs traced circles around her nipples, and heat pooled in her pelvis.

“I can see I won't have to warm you up very much,” he murmured. He leaned down and took her mouth, even as his hands moved over her breasts, teasing and playing until the world rippled around her. He pulled back to smile at her. “I don't know when I've enjoyed kissing someone so much. You give everything you have, sweetheart.”

And he kissed her again, a sweet kiss that turned forceful, his tongue taking complete possession.

When he stopped, she couldn't move, could only stare up into his intent gaze.

Why did surrendering to this man feel so right?

After studying her, he nodded and said softly, “That's my sub.” And the utter assurance in his claim terrified her when she couldn't find any disagreement inside her.

He picked up a strap and buckled it just below her breasts. A softly lined cuff went on each wrist, and he secured them to the top of the table over her head. Then he walked to the foot of the table.

She eyed him nervously, again aware of the people watching. “What are—”

His stern glance strangled the words in her throat. Silence. Don't talk. But…

Her knees bent as he pushed her feet upward toward her butt. Then he restrained her ankles to the edges of the table, the position far too like the one her gynecologist used, only even more spread open—the width of Simon's table was twice that of a medical one.

She pulled on her arms and legs, suddenly feeling frighteningly helpless.

“Ah, lass.” He walked back and held her face between his hands. She looked into his eyes. Calm and confident.

“Nothing will happen that you won't enjoy, Rona. If you become too scared, you can use your safe word. Tell me what it is.”

She swallowed. His thumbs stroked her cheeks as he waited for her answer.

“Houston. It's Houston.”

“That's right, my lass.” He held her head between his hands as he enjoyed her mouth in a leisurely kiss, as if he had all night, as if people weren't waiting for him.

When he let her go, her resistance had melted away. The knowledge that right now she'd submit to anything he wanted chilled her a little. Master Simon knew exactly what he was doing, and she wasn't sure if she resented or admired his power.

He looked into her eyes and smiled. “Thinking again?”

She watched him walk toward the end of the table, and every one of those eased muscles started to tighten again. When he undid the laces of her thong and pulled it off, a sizzle of excitement shot through her system. Her moan almost sounded like a whimper.

His eyes crinkled. He didn't touch her, though, and she was glad—really—

although everything down there throbbed in need.

“Let's start with your nipples,” he said. He picked up a small glass, bell-shaped cup and set it against her left breast. The coolness drew her nipple tighter. Shaking his head, he chose another size and fastened something that looked like a caulking gun with a gauge to the pointed end of the glass.

Unexpectedly, he skimmed his hand over her pussy, making her gasp. “Nice and wet,” he said. He ran his now-damp fingers around the glass rim before pressing it firmly to her breast. “Ready, lass?”

Her body burned with arousal even as anxiety shot through her. She gave him a nod and stared down at her chest.

“Tell me if it starts to hurt. For now, you are permitted to speak.” He squeezed the handle.

One pump and her breast felt like someone was sucking on it really, really hard. Her nipple swelled into the bottom third of the clear cup. “Oh my God!”

He chuckled, his gaze intent on her face as he squeezed again. When the suction increased to near pain, she tried to push the cup away and rediscovered that she was restrained.

“That's obviously enough.” He twisted the pump off, leaving her nipple fat and red inside the vacuum cup. “Next.”

The other one went the same way.

“That looks so strange,” she muttered, staring at the cups on her breasts. Feels strange too. Like someone constantly sucking right there.

He walked to the end of the table, and her hands clenched into fists. Her legs were splayed wide, her pussy on view for everyone to see. And he was going to do…that to her. Her breathing sped up again, yet somehow the fear only increased her arousal.

He ran his finger over her folds, smiling as her hips jerked. “You're very wet.”

After being aroused all evening, she felt swollen and almost too sensitive when he slid a finger into her. Oh God. Her legs quivered, but the ankle cuffs kept her from moving. Watching her face, he thrust in and out with excruciating slowness, ramping up her burning need. Her hips strained upward. More, more, more.

A corner of his mouth curved upward in a smile. “I believe you're ready for the next step.”

He picked up a cup, twisted on the pump, and then seated the cold glass firmly around her clit, wiggling to get an adequate seal.

Oh God, she was really going to let him do this. The restraints, his hard hands, his control, the strange cups… She bit her lip, feeling more aroused than she'd ever been in her whole life.

His fingers flexed on the trigger.