Following her was sweet torture. As she made her way across the room, her underwear left almost nothing to the imagination. Would jerking off until he came on her back be against the rules?
The kitchen was empty except for a couple talking quietly at the table.
Banner plucked Kate up off the floor and put her faceup on the granite-topped kitchen island. She squeaked when her bare skin met the cold stone.
“Stay.” He searched the kitchen drawers and found some twine, then tied Kate’s wrists to the drawer handles on either side of the kitchen island.
“Ouch! It’s rough!”
“If you stop pulling it won’t chafe.” He checked her hands, and they still had good color. Not too tight.
“Easy for you to say, you don’t have the kind of job where . . .” She gasped, seeming to lose track of what she meant to say as he hooked his fingers into her panties and slid them down and off.
Banner balled them in his fist, pried her mouth open, and shoved them in, even though she fought it. She hadn’t used her safeword.
“Shut up,” he whispered gruffly in her ear. “I’m going to beat you now.” He grabbed a spoon out of the drawer and put it in her hand. “If it gets too much for you, just let go of the spoon, and I’ll stop.”
Her grip on the spoon loosened and she glared at him.
“You’re going to be a big baby?”
Kate made a sound of disgust but tightened her hold on the spoon.
Eager to get started, he opened a drawer and pulled out the first thing he touched. Rolling pin? She wasn’t ready for that. Meat tenderizer. Even he wasn’t ready for that. Banner looked back at Kate and her eyes were wide and nervous, but she hadn’t dropped the spoon yet.
Elastics, chopsticks. He fiddled with them and quickly made some nipple clamps. With his best attempt to be impersonal, he tugged on her nipples and put the impromptu clamps on. She squealed and squirmed, and he tried not to think of the fact that she was naked and at his mercy.
Banner undid his belt. Her hips came up off the granite, begging for her Master’s attention. The sound of his belt sliding free made her go very still and her lovely green eyes followed him as he bowed her legs and spread her knees. He stroked the insides of her thighs, stopping before he reached her pussy. From that he moved to small slaps, then harder ones. His heavy leather belt was gentle enough when he tapped her with it.
With grunts and whines, she begged for more, straining toward him as far as the twine would allow. He hit her twice, harder on the inside of the thigh. Through the gag, she screamed, then started to cough. Banner yanked the now sodden underwear out of her mouth.
“Are you okay?” His thumb brushed her bottom lip as she panted for breath.
She caught the unsuspecting digit in her mouth and sucked, the sensuality of it more intimate than some blow jobs he’d gotten in the past. Her tongue swirled around, and she nipped at him. He groaned, leaning his aching groin on the edge of the kitchen island. Sucking his thumb wasn’t sexual contact, was it? Right then, he wasn’t sure he cared what Ambrose thought. Trying to keep control, he flicked the chopsticks, loving the way she winced, and then sucked him harder.
When he pulled his thumb from her mouth, she sighed in disappointment. Crawling up on top of her and fucking her face was probably out of the question.
On the counter, in the corner, there was a vase that contained what looked like sugarcane. He strolled over to it and looked back at Kate, who was frowning and shaking her head. He plucked one of the thinner stalks and swished it.
“No, Master! I’ll be good.”
A group of people came into the room, chatting. Kate’s legs snapped shut. The guests grew quiet as they realized what was going on, and they sat or leaned against the wall where they could watch but stay out of Banner’s way.
Two people sitting behind her head were one thing. Apparently she could forget they were there, but five more standing around watching was different.
Banner stroked her knees, and she sighed but kept them pressed together.
“Open your legs for me, pretty girl.”
For a moment he thought she’d comply, but then her gaze darted to the strangers and back to him. This one wasn’t an exhibitionist.
He delivered a sharp slap to the outside of her thigh. “Spread your fucking legs before I tie them open,” he barked.
Trembling, her knees inched apart. He pushed them wider, admiring the bare smoothness of her mons. Moisture beaded her sex and he had to push away thoughts of Ambrose on top of her, about to slide his dick into her tightness. A blush spread over her skin, encompassing most of her body.
“Stay still now. If you move I might hit you in the wrong place.”
“Y-yes, Master.” Her voice trembled.
Their gazes met and tenderness for her thickened his throat.
God. How would he ever hand her back over to Ambrose?
He hefted the sugarcane in his hand, then rubbed the roughness of it over her skin, leaving red marks on her belly and thighs. Kate’s breath was ragged, and he was sure his own was too. After a few taps, he hit the inside of her thigh harder.
“Ow! Mmmm.” She pressed upward for more.
Banner leaned down and brushed his lips over the red splotch he’d left, and her hips jerked.
I want my mouth there as much as you do, Trouble.
He straightened and held her knee, using the cane on the inside of her thighs until she was squealing and begging him to stop. When he did, he removed the nipple clamps, watching her expression as the blood rushed back into her abused nipples. He rubbed gentle fingers over them, then pinched hard and let go.
Kate sobbed, struggling to get closer to him.
“Master, please! I need you.”
“You need me to what?” he whispered in her ear.
“Unh.” She shivered violently as his breath met her ear and tried to inch closer. “I need to come, Master. It’s been so long.” Her begging was high pitched and pitiful, and when he met her gaze, it fastened to his as though she’d die if he looked away.
She was his—fucking his. This was the size of the hole she’d left in his life when he’d sent her away. A huge gaping nothing. This was the expression on her face in the twenty-some portraits he’d painted of her. Whether Kate approved of it or not, she was his slave, just as much as he was hers.
She’d been the one he’d been looking for all along, and he’d given her away as though she hadn’t become the very air he breathed.
“I can’t.” He kissed her, claiming her back for the moment, half expecting Ambrose to storm into the room and beat the shit out of him. But in that moment not kissing her would have killed him.
Kate kissed him back with fierce desperation. He pulled away, every part of him hating that he had to. Untying her took only a moment, and he sat her up and steadied her. She turned her face to his chest and hid there. Her warm wet tears trickled down his skin.
“Your girl is gorgeous.” One of the men nodded at Kate.
“Mine? I’m not that lucky.” He laughed, but regret had slipped into the sound. The other man heard it and gave him a sympathetic look before moving away. Everyone else filed out in silence, as though they realized they were intruding on something that wasn’t supposed to be a spectacle.
“You gave me away,” Kate whispered against his chest. “Why did you do that if you wanted to keep me?”
“I-I think I was trying to save you.” The words were like sand in his mouth.
“You did save me, but then you ruined it by getting rid of me.” She punched his arm jokingly, but then her expression turned fierce, and she hit him again and again, as if she’d lost control. Her palm cracked across his face once, stinging him, but it was the least he deserved. She pulled her hand back, curling in on herself, crumpling against him. She was sobbing—every sound like an ice pick in his chest.