Sanctuary (6 page)

“Yes!”

“But you'd love it even more if I really fucked you, wouldn't you?”

“Yes…please, Shaye.”

“That's the one thing I won't do tonight. But I need to know you want it.”

God, the rough texture of his voice was the sexiest thing she'd ever heard. She ground her hips, impaling herself harder on his fingers.

“How do you want it, Devin? Tell me,” he demanded.

“I want it hard. I need it.”

“Like this?” He moved his hand so that his thumb pressed onto her swollen clit while he thrust his fingers hard into her.

“Yes!”

Her body trembled, on the brink of orgasm already. When he pinched her nipple painfully she exploded, her climax rocking her body. Shards of pleasure shot through her, blinding hot. She cried out, shivering all over.

His voice was a ragged whisper. “Jesus, to watch you come, to know I make you come so damn hard…you're killing me, girl.”

She could barely take in his words. Didn't matter, anyway. All that mattered was the rapture of climax after climax, being there with him. She lay across his lap, half out of her head and fighting an inner battle between the sharp, aching desire to please him and the need to stay in control.

But who the hell was she kidding? There was nothing about tonight that had to do with her being in control. As frightening as that thought was, it felt good too. He was right about that.

Without really thinking about it she slipped off the sofa, onto her knees on the floor, her hands on his strong thighs. She looked up at him, saw him smile.

“Shaye. Let me please you.” Yes, even saying the words to him filled some empty place in her.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb, trailed down to her mouth and ran the pad of his thumb over her lips. Her tongue darted out to taste him. He moaned softly and pushed his thumb into her mouth. She took it in, sucking gently.

“Jesus, Devin.”

She ran her hands boldly up his denim-clad thighs, loving the solid texture of muscle beneath the fabric. She moved upward until she felt the bulge of his erect cock. He was big. Her sex flooded with wet heat once more. Focusing on him, she unbuckled his leather belt, slipped his zipper down and found he was bare underneath.

Perfect.

She pulled his cock out and curled her fingers around the thick shaft. It was like iron in her hand, iron sheathed in silk. And just below the head, the underside of his cock was pierced with a small steel ring.

The metal piercing his flesh was one of the hottest things she'd ever seen in her life. Beautiful and wicked. Even hotter for some reason when she imagined the pain he must have endured getting the piercing done. Her sex swelled with need.

Have to have him. In my body, any way I can…

He dug his fingers into her hair as she lowered her head and took him into her mouth.

Sweet flesh, so hard, so hot. The ring felt strange in her mouth, strange but wonderful. She could only imagine the sensations that ring would cause if he was inside her. She slid her lips down his shaft, heard his groan of pleasure. She would have smiled if her mouth hadn't been so completely full.

With her fingers clasping the base of his cock, she moved up, then down, then up again, sucking, licking, curling her tongue around the heavy head, playing with the metal ring. His hips ground in time with her strokes, the ring sliding over her tongue, his cock plunging deeply into her throat, choking her a little. Her eyes watered, but she wanted to take all of him, wanted to make him feel as good as he'd made her feel tonight.

She moved faster, sucked hard on the rigid flesh. His breath was a rasping pant. His fingers pulled hard on her hair, hurting a little. But she loved it,
wanted
the pain, as though, she realized, it cleansed her of any culpability. The pain took away her need for responsibility, allowed her to give herself over to him.

Had she needed to let go so badly? Tears stung her eyes, even as she continued to suck him, to pump him with her mouth. His muscles tensed, he let out a groan and grasped her hair, sliding his cock from her mouth.

“Shaye?”

His voice was rough, panting. “I won't come tonight. This is not for me. That's not why I'm here.”

“Did I…? You didn't like it?”

He groaned. “Jesus, Devin. If I liked it any more I'd fucking explode all over your face. I almost did. But I have to keep some control tonight. I owe you that.”

“You don't owe me anything.”

He reached down and pulled her back into his lap.

“Devin, control is a big part of being a Dominant. I love that you want to do this for me, but I cannot come while I'm in the role—not only as Dominant, but as your protector during your first real play. While your wellbeing is so much in my hands. It's irresponsible.”

“But isn't that torture for you?”

He laughed, a raw sound. “Hell yes. But that's how it has to be.”

“It's the reason why you won't sleep with me?”

“Yes.”

“Will you stay here with me tonight anyway?”

“Only if you promise to keep your hot little hands off me. I don't think I can hold back any longer. Even I have my limits. Come on, I'll tuck you in.”

She started to get up, but he gripped her more tightly in his arms and stood, then carried her to the bedroom. There he set her on the bed, helped her pull back the covers and get in. He stripped his jeans off and in the dim reflection of the moon and stars coming through the parted curtains of her window, she saw that he was half-hard still. Her sex clenched, wanting him, needing him. But she understood the rules, and she would stick to them rather than risk him leaving her.

He climbed in beside her, his body hard and hot as he rolled her onto her side and curled around behind her. The rigid shaft of his cock pressed against her back. She tried to relax, but the object of her desire was all too close. Despite her exhaustion, her body heated again, her sex burning with need.

“Shaye?”

“Is this what you need again, little Devin? My beautiful girl with the unquenchable thirst.”

She didn't answer as he slipped a hand around the front of her body and right into the vee between her thighs.

“Yes!”

“You're so goddamn wet.”

He moved his hand and rolled away from her. She moaned in frustration.

He said quietly, “I'll tell you, Devin, this is killing me, not to fuck you. Not to shove my cock deep into your slick little pussy. Come here.”

He rolled her over onto her stomach, pulled her up onto her knees, so that her ass was in the air.

“Move your legs apart. I want to see your pussy. Yeah, just like that.”

He leaned in and she felt his warm breath on her before he shoved his tongue inside her. A bolt of pure pleasure shot through her. But the groan she heard was his.

He moved away, then his hand came down on her ass in a hard, stinging slap. She gasped in surprise, then moved into his hand, into the pain. She didn't want to think about why, didn't care right now.

“I'm going to spank the hell out of you. I need to.”

She whimpered, spread her thighs a little wider.

“Oh, you are perfect,” he muttered.

He smacked her again, a hard and fast volley of slaps that made her skin tingle and hurt. Her sex was absolutely dripping. Harder and harder he spanked her, until she could barely take it, could barely breathe. Just when the pain became too much to bear, he slipped his hand between her thighs and went to work on her clit, pinching and tugging with his fingers.

He was working her so hard—her clit, her ass—she couldn't think, couldn't breathe. She was a being of pure sensation, all of it blending together, pain and desire. When she came this time it was like breaking shards of glass: that sharp, that shattering. Pleasure ripped through her body at a thousand miles an hour. She came so hard she couldn't even scream.

When it was over she collapsed onto her stomach, shivering. After a few moments she became aware of his ragged breath, of the heat of his big body near hers.

“Fuck, Devin. You really are going to be the end of me.”

Maybe she should be worried, but she felt a deep sense of pleasure at his words, at knowing she affected him with the same impact he did her.

After one night with this man, her sense of self was shifting. Certainly what she knew of herself as a sexual being. And she was pretty damn sure other parts of her life were about to change.

Tomorrow she might feel differently, might feel that intense need for control once more. But for tonight, she chose to give it all over to him.

Shaye.

He might very well be the end of her too.

Chapter Five

Devin lay curled up next to him, silent tears sliding down her flushed cheeks. Shaye wiped them away with careful fingers, pushed her long, wild hair from her face. This was part of his job too, caring for the bottom when they crashed. He was always able to do it without emotional involvement. Just do his job, take care of the girl until she calmed down. He could do it in his sleep. Why was this time so different?

He
felt
her tears, damn it! What the hell was that about? But he had to think only of her right now.

“Shh, Devin. You're okay,” he crooned to her. “You're crashing. We talked about this earlier, remember?”

She nodded and whispered, “Yes.”

“You'll be okay in a little while. Just let it happen, this crash. Crash into me. Into my arms. I've got you.”

He pulled her closer, trying to ignore the hammering of his pulse in his veins. The heat coming off her was incredible. That and the sweet scent of her hair, making him want to keep her safe. From everything. Maybe even from him. That was part of his job as a Dom too. Wasn't it?

But it went far beyond that with her. There was more here than that ever-present sense of responsibility. Something about her…

She was sexy as hell, no doubt about it. But beneath that was an intrinsic innocence he hadn't seen in even the youngest girls who came to the club, the brand new twenty-one-year-olds. The innocence he saw in Devin wasn't necessarily virginal. No, there was something in her eyes, something about the way she'd given up that power struggle so easily, even though it was obviously against her nature. She was still strong. He'd never viewed the ability to submit as something weak, anyway. But there was definitely something special about her.

It was almost too much to think about with her warm in his arms, her scent all around him, and his heart thundering in his chest as though he'd run a fucking marathon. And his poor, neglected cock still hard as ever.

It occurred to him in a flash that he wanted to take her out of the Ring.
Had
to get her out of there. Had to take her someplace more…significant.

He wanted to take her to Sanctuary, that most exclusive of BDSM clubs he'd belonged to for almost three years.

Why the hell was he even considering such a move?

He had never taken a girl there before. But Devin…Devin was special—he knew it already in some insanely certain way. She was worthy of that place. And on so many levels it scared the shit out of him. But once he had it in his head that he had to take her to Sanctuary, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

He fell asleep in her four-poster bed with images of presenting Devin at Sanctuary. With the half-formed idea of how he would propose it to her, taking her to this most formal and extreme place.

Could she handle it? He knew she could. The bigger question now was, could
he
handle it? Could he take her to Sanctuary, knowing what it could mean to them both?

Devin expected to wake up alone. She kept perfectly still, not daring to open her eyes, wanting to stay in that dream place where she imagined he had stayed with her. So real. So real she could almost smell him, feel the heat of his body.

With a sigh she opened her eyes and found him watching her, his hazel gaze dark and intense on her face.

“Shaye.”

“Good morning, little one.”

Ah, so nice, that nickname.

Made her melt all over.

“Good morning.”

He smiled. “You sound surprised.”

“I am. I didn't think you'd be here.”

“I wouldn't have left without saying goodbye. And there's something I want to talk with you about, once you've had a chance to really wake up.”

“Mmm…impossible without coffee, and I don't keep it in the house. I go down to the Marina every morning and buy it there.”

“Up with you then. We're getting showered and dressed. You have fifteen minutes.”

Why did she love it when he told her what they were going to do, rather than asking her? Wasn't that strange for a woman like herself? She'd been running her own life—and her mother's—since she was ten years old. But she sat up and watched him get out of bed, stark naked and as gorgeously put together as any piece of classic statuary—the sleek, muscled lines of his back, his ass strong and perfect. His semi-hard cock. Spectacular. She smiled as she got up and followed him, naked herself, into the bathroom.

He was already turning the hot water on in the shower. He stepped in and pulled her with him, moving her right into him beneath the warm spray.

She'd always had a thing about water. It seemed an erotic thing to her. And to be standing there with him, the smooth, wet heat falling all around them, was almost too much for her. Her legs shook with need, her sex pulsing with desire the moment he touched her. She looked up at him, at the droplets clinging to his lashes. His eyes were as dark and unreadable as ever, but his mouth seemed just a little bit softer. She stretched up on her toes and kissed him.

His mouth was every bit as soft as it looked and a hundred times sweeter. He didn't open to her right away, just kissed her lips over and over until she thought she would drown in her need for him.

He grabbed the soap and slid it over her skin: her back, her shoulders, her stomach and finally her breasts. Her nipples peaked so hard they hurt. And as he slipped his soapy hands over her body she felt utterly cared for in a way that was entirely new to her.

They didn't speak. This was a moment of simply being together under the hot spray, the white noise of falling water all around them, embraced by the wisps of steam. A sweet moment, thoroughly sensual.

“Shaye…please…” she begged finally.
Had
to.

He whispered in her ear, “Yes, I know what you need. Here, turn around.”

With his hands on her waist he helped her turn so her back was to him, pressed up against the front of his body. His cock was hard as steel against the small of her back. She opened her legs without even thinking about it.

He reached around her, her body still crushed against his. As his arm slipped over the soapy surface of her skin, she noticed again the small tattoo on the inside of his wrist. She grasped his arm, pulling it closer so she could really look at it. She ran her fingers over the design.

“Tell me what it means, Shaye.”

His voice was low and smoky in her ear. “It's the Chinese symbol for power.”

His answer hit her hard. It made perfect sense. This man radiated power. But she didn't have time to think about it before he slipped his hand between her thighs. He pressed two fingers right into her and her pussy clenched with a sublime heat.

“Oh…”

With his thumb he circled her aching clitoris, making her shiver, bringing her to the verge of climax in moments, her senses reeling.

Yes, power indeed.

Behind her his voice was husky, right next to her ear. “Come, Devin. Come for me. Into my hand.”

She did, her body rocked by the force of it as pleasure shot through her. She bucked her hips into his hand, cried out. He held her tightly in his arms while she trembled all over.

“That's it,” he murmured. “Good girl.”

Another quick flash of pleasure at that.
Good girl.

He let her catch her breath, then, “Come on now. If I touch you again I'll come all over you like some teenager.”

“Yes, please.” Had that really been her, the low, smoky voice, begging him like that?

He laughed. “You challenge my control, girl. But it's time to get dressed, get out of here and get you some coffee.”

They rinsed, then stepped from the shower to dry off. He dried her himself, the nubby texture of the towel rubbing over her skin an arousing tactile experience that made her want him more than ever. She realized then that no matter how many times he made her come, she wouldn't be satisfied until she felt him inside her body. Her sex gave a sharp squeeze at the thought.

God, he was turning her into a nymphomaniac.

Finally they managed to get dressed. They took the stairs down rather than waiting for the old elevator. Outside there was a brisk, salt-scented wind, but Shaye looped an arm over her shoulders, keeping her warm at his side as they walked.

Was this supposed to feel so much like a relationship, walking out on a Saturday morning to get coffee?

They reached her favorite spot two blocks away, a tiny café called Insomnia. There he ordered for them both and paid for the coffee, and they took a seat at a small table next to the window. Outside the city was waking up, the stores opening. The first tourists of the morning strolled by in their shorts and their San Francisco sweatshirts while Devin and Shaye sipped their coffee in companionable silence. He was the first man she could remember ever feeling this comfortable with—that they could be together without talking, yet there was never any sign of tension, of needing to fill the silence. Except that he'd left a question unanswered.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?”

His hazel eyes locked on hers. They glowed with deep shades of amber and chocolate, and a tantalizing sheen of green. “There's a place I want to take you, a special place.”

“Oh?”

“I know you're new to this, to the whole bondage and discipline thing. But I think you'd love it there. I feel you can already handle it.”

“What is it, this place?”

He drank from his paper cup, swallowed, and she was momentarily distracted by the working of the muscles in his throat. “Think of it as being like the Ring, but for a more sophisticated crowd. Sexual sophisticates you could call them.”

“I'm hardly that sexually sophisticated.”

“Maybe not in the sense they are. You have a…freshness. Something that would drive them all crazy.” He grinned. “It drives me a little crazy. But you have what it takes. I can see it in you, Devin.”

Even his vague description sounded enticing, if a bit frightening. She had to admit she was intrigued by the combination. And if he wanted her to go anywhere with him, she would. She didn't want to think about why. “Tell me what it's like.”

“It's a sort of secret society, so I can't tell you much until you agree to go. But it's in this old mansion. A beautiful, elegant place. The crowd ranges in age, but we'd be at the younger end of the spectrum. The people are beautiful. And it's pretty intense, I'll tell you that.”

“Intense how?” But without even knowing any more details, the idea was making her heart pound in anticipation.

“Intense in that these people are very serious about what they do, about what
we
do. Formal kink. There are a lot of rules. You would have to remain silent unless spoken to. That kind of thing.”

“Would you be with me the whole time? Or would you hand me off to someone else, like in
The Story of O
?”

“I would stay with you. The first visit would simply be a presentation. I wouldn't make a slave out of you, like in the book, if that's part of what you're asking. That's not the kind of thing I'm interested in. But your role would be as a sort of temporary slave, if only in the mindset and the behavior while we're there. I want you to submit to me, but I don't need a woman who doesn't think for herself. And…I don't know that I'd ever be able to share you with anyone else once I took you there.” He paused, his dark brows drawn, and she had the impression that he was trying hard to figure something out. “Devin, I don't…I do not take anyone to Sanctuary. It's not something I do. Do you understand?”

“I think so.”

What he was suggesting stole her breath away. The idea of this beautiful place, a mansion made for the kind of formal kink she'd only ever read about. But even more was the fact that
she
was the one Shaye was choosing to go with him. Lovely and nerve-wracking all at the same time.

Her fingers tightened around her cup. She could feel the heat of the coffee in her palms. “Would you…put one of those collars on me?”

He paused once more, seemed to think for a very long time while he bit down on the plush flesh of his lower lip, making her want to kiss him again.

“Maybe. Eventually.” Another pause, then, “The collar means something to these people. To me. It's not merely a symbol, part of a costume. But yes, if I take you there, I would have to collar you before we went back again. That's how it works. I would present you to the group the first time for consideration. Theirs, yours, mine. After that…yes, there would be a collar. But we would talk about it first. We would both have to understand exactly what it means to each of us.”

He stopped, shrugged, looking a bit flustered. His eyes were shuttered, and she couldn't read what was going on in his head. She wasn't even sure what was going on in her own head—about this collaring thing, how talking about it made him appear nervous and unsure, something she'd assumed he never was. But she couldn't help imagining him putting a collar around her neck, lifting her hair to buckle it. The idea made her warm and shivery inside. It made her wonder if the intensity of connection she felt was more about the kink than anything—they'd just met, hadn't they? But even if that were true, the connection was too.

“I want to go.” She knew it with a certainty that didn't surprise her, somehow, even though it should have.

“Take some time to think about it, Devin. It's a big step. Sanctuary is a very intense place. Incredibly luxurious, but that makes it all even more wicked. If you've read
The Story of O
then you have some idea. But the reality of such a place is a whole other thing. They would touch you on that first visit. Test the smoothness of your skin, the weight of your breasts, maybe more. Probably more. You'll be irresistible to them. It's really more of a mind-fuck than anything—they'll be looking for your reaction, your ability to respond. It can be a shock.”