Uncollared Page 6

  When she obeyed, he went on. “I know it’s silly to say ‘Don’t be nervous.’ But believe me, Ruffles, no man in his right mind could ever be disappointed in you.” Her gaze held his and an expression of doubt flitted across her face. Did she really not know how appealing she was? The word delectable popped into his head. As delicious as cake, whipped cream, and strawberry jam.

  He could look at her all day, but now was not the time to get sidetracked. “So let’s try it this way. I’ll ask questions and you give me the answers. How do you feel about spanking?”

  “I…” Her throat moved as she swallowed hard. “All right.”

  “Uh-huh. And bondage?”

  This time she answered more quickly. “Yes.”

  “And sex? If I top you, I’m going to make you come. Just like I did last night. It doesn’t mean we have to fuck, but—”

  She spoke before he could finish. “Yes.”

  Her assent left him light-headed with relief, and he realized how disappointed he’d have been if she said no.

  “Yes to touching and other things…but no intercourse.” Her brown eyes pinned him. Her voice was firm.

  And suddenly Chess’s elation fell flat. Fucking had never been an especially important part of play for him, but now he couldn’t imagine playing with Mia and not finishing inside her. It was like being served a succulent piece of steak and not being allowed to taste it.

  But he would not allow his letdown show. Instead, he kept his voice light and easy. “See? How hard is it to be honest?”

  Chapter Eight

  “Very well,” Master Chess said. “Let’s get started.”

  Mia’s pulse thumped in her ears. Why she was so jittery? She wasn’t a complete novice at this, after all.

  He gestured with his finger. “On your feet, sub.”

  Taking a deep breath, she rose to from her knees, trying to be graceful. Chess sat with his legs comfortably stretched out. He pulled a remote control from the side table drawer, pressed a button, and music began to play. Philip enjoyed classical music and opera, but Chess preferred soft jazz.

  She stood with her head lowered, hands clasped behind her back in the proper submissive position.

  “Look at me.” His voice was soft.

  When she obeyed, Mia saw that his lips were fuller and his eyelids were at half-mast. “Take off your clothes.”

  Her hand went to the button on her jeans, but he said, “No. Your top first.”

  There was no way to pull a T-shirt over one’s head gracefully. She should have thought about that earlier. Once she had her top off, his eyes widened at what she wore underneath. A red brocade corset covered with black lace.

  “You’ve had that on the whole time?”

  He didn’t like it? “Y-yes, Sir,” she stammered, the shirt dangling foolishly from her hand.

  “Didn’t I tell you to dress casually today?”

  “Yes, Sir.” In a nervous gesture she raised her free hand to smooth her hair.

  “Stop that.”

  Instantly her arms were at her side.

  His lips had tightened into a flat line. “Do you normally walk around with a corset under your clothes?”

  Was she already messing up? “No, Sir.”

  “I didn’t think so. You can’t tell me it’s comfortable.” At her confused silence he demanded, “Well, is it?”

  “Not—not really, Sir. But—”

  “What?”

  “I thought you’d like it. Sir.” Irritation shot through her, and it took real effort to keep her voice humble. For God’s sake, would he have preferred a cotton bra and panties?

  “You’re lying, Ruffles. Give me that.” He indicated the T-shirt.

  She stepped toward him, burning with resentment at his accusation. Chess took the garment, but Mia did not let it go. Their gazes locked.

  He read the question in her face. What do you mean I lied?

  “You told yourself the corset was for me.” Chess spoke in a low, intimate tone. “But really, you wore it for yourself. You wanted something that held you tightly, constricted you. It excited you, didn’t it, to feel the corset squeezing your waist, your ribs. Your breasts. Did you pretend it was my hands touching you, holding you?”

  Her fingers loosened, released the shirt. Heat flashed through her, but not from anger. “Yes,” she answered, her lips numb. She only now realized the truth.

  “And were you wet? Thinking about me touching you?” His eyes wouldn’t let her go. “Are you wet now?”

  “Yes.” Her voice sounded far away.

  His expression softened, and he smiled. “I’m honored.”

  Chess carefully folded the soft T-shirt and set it on the sofa. “Now take off the jeans.”

  Mia did as instructed, revealing her black satin thong. She tried to hide her trembling.

  Chess took the jeans, placing them beside the shirt.

  “Relax, Mia. Just stand naturally.” His voice was quiet.

  Relax? How could she, as aroused as she was? Chess knew it too. Mia could tell from his smirk.

  “Look at me,” Chess said.

  She did, and felt captured by his eyes. Frozen in time.

  His gaze warmed her as it coasted over her form. It felt as though he were actually touching her. Of her own volition, Mia straightened her spine and proudly thrust her breasts forward.

  “I’ll say one thing,” he told her. “The corset is lovely.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  His gray eyes met hers. “Take it off.”

  Chills went through her at the command. Mia had unfastened the top hook of her corset when suddenly she flashed on the large uncurtained windows lining the wall.

  Chess followed her glance. “Are you worried someone might see you? It’s a weekend. Everyone’s out and about. It’s very unlikely anyone’s at home across the way.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as she relaxed a bit. “Of course, if someone did decide to spend the day at home, I imagine he’d get a very pleasant surprise if he looked this way about now.”

  Mia’s fingers froze. “Eyes on me,” Chess said softly. “Only on me. It’s not your concern if anyone can see you in here. I want to see you. Your only worry should be pleasing me.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she murmured, realizing she wanted to please him more than anything. Needed to. Even the fear of being observed did not diminish that. Her fingers were clumsy, trembling slightly as she slipped the tiny hooks from their fastenings.

  “Slowly, Ruffles. Much more slowly.” He leaned back in the armchair, sprawling his long limbs lazily. “I want to enjoy the show.”

  Chess shook his head as he witnessed her nervousness undressing in the open room with the sunlight shining through the windows. “I see we still have an issue with trust. We’ll work on that.”

  “What is it that bothers you about undressing for me?” he asked. “Are you really afraid someone might see you? Or is it that you’re not comfortable with me seeing you naked?”

  Mia thought the question might be rhetorical, but answered just the same as her fingers continued to work. “I don’t know, Sir.”

  “Hmm. I wonder. Maybe we need to work on honesty as well.” He watched silently as she undid the last of the hooks and held the corset closed with her hands. “You’re not one of those silly women who hates her body, are you? Who thinks her thighs are too big or her breasts are too small?”

  Mia held still, watching him. He sat up, holding out his hand. “Give it to me.”

  She walked to him, removing the corset and folding it over his outstretched arm.

  “Stay right there. Just like that.” His eyes looked almost silver now as they swept her with their gaze. A flush moved up Mia’s body. Her nipples tautened into hard buds.

  Chess gave a sigh. “Ah, Ruffles. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

  Mia knew it wasn’t true, but just the same it warmed her inside. Every woman fantasized that some man might find her beautiful, even if the rest of the world didn’t
.

  She reminded herself that she was only a toy to Chess. A pretty toy, maybe, but one he’d ultimately tire of and push aside. And that was fine, because she’d learned her lesson about caring too deeply for a Dom. It wasn’t called “play” for nothing.

  Chess patted his thigh. “Come here.”

  Mia went to him and sat, dressed only in the thong. She perched awkwardly on his thigh, unable to get comfortable, unable to relax.

  “Easy.” Chess soothed her, stroking her thigh while he slid his other hand down her back.

  His touch, gentle but sure, comforted her.

  “Better?” he asked after a bit.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” He smoothed his fingers up and down her back, up and down. Mia, lulled by the feeling, felt her eyelids droop. She felt almost as though she could drift into sleep.

  He touched the indentations the bones of the corset had left on her pale skin. “Do these hurt?”

  She shook her head. “No, Sir.”

  “So delicate.” He traced the bones of her shoulders and ribs.

  Abruptly his voice lost its wonder and turned serious. “Your safe word is ‘red.’ When you say that, it means all play stops immediately. The scene is over. If you’re nervous, unsure about something, your word is ‘yellow.’ We’ll slow down, discuss it. Do you understand?”

  Mia swallowed hard and nodded.

  “Say it.”

  “Yes, Sir. I understand.”

  “Good.” He pulled open a drawer in the side table and removed something. “I want you to wear this.”

  She hardly had time to examine it before he placed it around her throat. A collar. But no delicate golden chain like Master Philip had given her. It was heavy and nonmetallic. As Chess fastened it around her neck, she lifted her hands to touch it. She stopped, realizing he hadn’t given her permission.

  He nodded. “It’s all right. Go ahead.”

  The collar was made of leather, smooth, no rough edges anywhere. And, as she’d noticed, it had weight. It held her throat snugly, though she could breathe and swallow just fine. Still, she would never be able to forget it was there.

  She looked at Chess.

  “It’s heavy, isn’t it? I wanted it that way. For as long you’re here, I want you to remember whose collar you wear. To whom you belong. Who you serve.”

  At his words and his gaze, Mia began to sink into herself. She experienced the same feeling when Master Philip commanded her. Though the sensation was familiar, she didn’t know what to call it. The rest of the world went soft and fuzzy, and the only thing that mattered was her Master’s voice. His touch. That alone was real.

  Chess gave a gentle rumble of laughter. Did he know how she felt? He lightly ruffled her hair, and his voice sounded as though it came from a great distance. “Have you ever used toys?”

  Toys? Mia couldn’t get his words to connect in her brain.

  He removed his hand and soon pressed something cool against her folds, something that vibrated and buzzed softly.

  Her eyes flew open wide. “What—”

  When she shifted, he moved the object up toward her clitoris, and she folded.

  “Oh. Oh. What is it?”

  “Does it feel good?” He still wore that naughty smile.

  “It, uh, what ahh!”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” To her disappointment, he pulled the item away. She saw a ball, a little larger than a tennis ball. Instead of the fuzzy covering, it was smooth and white with a pink strip resembling a ribbon around the circumference.

  She blinked at him in confusion. Where had it come from?

  He nodded toward the drawer in the end table beside his chair. “That’s my toy drawer. All kinds of fun things in there.” He waggled his eyebrows mischievously. “I was a scout as a boy, Mia. I’m always prepared.”

  Huh. A naughty scout in the Den of Kink. Of course this entire scene had been choreographed, all planned out. Chess would leave nothing to chance—that’s the kind of man he was. The kind of Dom he was.

  “I like this toy—it’s something a little different.” He pressed it between Mia’s legs again. “Hold it,” he whispered. “Hold it tight between your thighs.”

  She pressed her thighs together, curling her pussy against the pulsating ball. Ah. So good. Mia squeezed her eyes closed, felt her mouth scrunch up—

  “Enough.” Abruptly he snatched the buzzing ball away and placed it on the end table. He tweaked her nipple to get her attention. “You didn’t answer my question, Ruffles. Have you ever used toys?”

  She bit her lip in shyness. “Well, I have a little pocket rocket, Sir.

  “Good. That’s very good.” He spoke as though he were proud of her, warmth in his eyes. “Nothing else?”

  “N-no.”

  “Well, we’ll take care of that. I have plenty of toys with your name written all over them, Ruffles.”

  Chess’s arm moved again. Mia tried to see what he was doing.

  “Look at my face, Ruffles. Only at my face.”

  Mia gazed into those storm-cloud eyes and gasped as Chess’s fingers slipped beneath her thong and something cool and hard probed her. She was already so slick that he easily slipped the object into her. It began to vibrate and pulse.

  “Good girl.” He patted her hip. “Stand up.”

  Mia obeyed. The object inside her thrummed and throbbed in an irregular rhythm. Sparks of excitement shot to her swollen clit and tingling nipples. She breathed in shallow pants, afraid if she breathed too deeply, she would topple over into orgasm.

  “It’s a bullet,” Chess explained. “Now remember, Ruffles, for this time you’ve agreed to, your body is mine, and your orgasms are mine. You’re not to come without my permission.”

  Oh God. “Yes, Sir.”

  “I didn’t press the point last night, since it’d been so long for you.” His mouth quirked. “See how softhearted I am?”

  In her effort not to come, Mia could hardly focus on his words.

  His smile disappeared, and he was deadly serious. “But now it’s a different ball game. Do you understand?”

  She dipped her head to indicate agreement, afraid to move too much. “Yes, Sir.” Her voice felt and sounded rusty.

  He pointed to the only article of clothing she still wore, her thong. “Take that off.”

  Mia slowly wriggled it down her legs, biting her lip as her movements intensified the bullet's sensations. At last she slipped it off and placed it into his outstretched hand. He fingered it for a moment and placed it on the end table.

  “I’m thirsty,” he announced. “I’d like you to pour me a glass of wine from the bar over there.” He gestured with his chin to the other side of the room. A bottle of white wine and a glass sat on the marble top of a small bar of dark wood.

  “Yes, Sir.” Just as she turned, Chess grasped her butt cheek and squeezed to get her attention.

  “One more thing.” He reached into the drawer beside him and pulled something else out. Something with strips of cloth and a blue rubbery thing.

  “Lift your foot,” he instructed. When Mia obeyed he slipped something over her left foot, then her right. She realized the strips of cloth were actually straps connected to a little blue butterfly. Chess slid the straps up her legs and adjusted them until the butterfly rested against her clit. It began to vibrate. Mia pressed her lips tight.

  He smacked her on the ass, but somehow it didn’t sting, although the loud crack startled Mia and sent her hustling. But the pulsing of the bullet inside her along with the vibrations of the butterfly soon distracted her from her purpose. Her legs trembled, and her vision grew hazy—the bar, though only a few feet away, shimmered like a mirage in the distance.

  Mia bit the inside of her cheek, willing the pain to divert her from the overwhelming need to climax. Somehow her prayer was answered. The little blue butterfly slowed; the toy inside her stopped buzzing. Mia reached the bar and slumped against it gratefully, sweat moistening her upper lip.r />
  Just as she poured the wine, both toys started up again in irregular rhythms. When the bullet buzzed, the toy tickling her clit stopped, then the other way around. Both pulsed at the same time in different cadences. Mia’s hand trembled, and the bottle clinked against the rim of the glass.

  “That wine is expensive, sub. Make sure none of it spills.” Chess’s voice somehow made it through Mia’s agony of arousal.

  Fire raged between her thighs and raced up her spine. Just as she was about to tumble into orgasm, the toys subsided. Mia dragged in a deep, thankful breath, and turned to Chess, the wineglass in her hand.

  Halfway to him, she noticed a couple of devices on his lap. Remote controls?

  He spoke. “Hold on. I don’t want to leave a ring on my table. I’m going to need a coaster. There are some at the bar—go bring me one, Ruffles.”

  Mia hesitated. Should she give him the wine first and return for the coaster, or—

  She took one more step his way and his mouth flattened. He shook his head. “The coaster.”

  Mia turned, and just as she did, the toys started pulsing again. She almost buckled to the floor. Perspiration beaded on her forehead. Walking with the butterfly teasing her swollen clit was torture. She stopped after a few steps to steady herself.

  Blessedly, the torment suddenly stopped. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, plastering her hair to her skin. Mia’s face and pussy were aflame. Quickly grasping the coaster, Mia tried to hurry her errand. On her way back to Chess, the toys started up again.

  Mia could stand it no longer. “No! Ah!” She plummeted into orgasm, her body stiffening. The wineglass slipped from her hand as the contractions coursed through her. Dimly, she heard the crystal shatter and felt the splash of wine at her feet.

  Oh no. As the last of the ripples wavered away, Mia realized she had disobeyed Master Chess. But then, he’d fixed it so she would. She blinked, sure she would see extreme displeasure on his face. Instead, his eyes were wide with alarm.

  “Mia. Don’t move.”

  Surprise flooded her as he addressed her by her real name, but her body automatically stilled in obedience to his command. She realized that she stood in a puddle of wine, barefoot, surrounded by broken glass.