Stealing Serenity Page 9

  “Are you ready?” Ross asked.

  She nodded, steeling herself. Eyes closed she presented lips, cold and wooden as possible.

  “Not quite yet.”

  She opened her eyes again.

  “Lift your arms over your head.”

  Serenity regarded him curiously at first.

  “Your dress,” he said casually. “It comes off now.”

  “But…you promised me one kiss first, one chance to resist.”

  “This is your chance. But I’m not kissing you like this. I want you exposed, Serenity, surely you anticipated that?”

  No, she thought, kicking herself internally. But Bunny had.

  “This isn’t fair, Ross.”

  He stroked her cheek. “I never said I would be fair with you, darling. I said I would own you. Those are two very different things.”

  “No shit, Sherlock.”

  Serenity raised her arms, not knowing what else to do.

  Ross’ hands went expertly behind her back, undoing her zipper.

  She held her breath as he lifted the hem of the material, pulling the dress he had given her back over her head.

  He tossed it gently onto the stage floor.

  Her arms brushed the silken ropes. The ones that had confined Alice. Please, don’t let it go that way.

  “You wore the underwear I gave you,” he noted.

  “Yes. And if I had known this was going to happen, trust me, I would not have.”

  His hands moved to her waist.

  She was very conscious of her hands still above her, raised to the sky. The underwire bra did much to lift her breasts.

  She heard someone clear his throat, a man, Cedric for all she knew. By her earlier headcount there were fifteen people in the dining room plus the serving staff. She could no longer see them but they could most certainly see her.

  “But you did know, Serenity, you knew exactly what would happen.”

  She sighed, leaning into his grasp. Maybe she did know, maybe she did want to lose the bet.

  He took hold of her breasts, smoothing her skin beneath the exotic material. Within her sheer black panties, the liquids began to flow.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he told her.

  She melted.

  He pulled her against his chest, no need to remove any more clothes to make her more vulnerable and open. The kiss was more than primed to do the job now.

  She pushed her breasts against him, she ground her pussy hard. Blatant. On total display.

  Ross’ hands found her panties. He tore them at her hips as his tongue plunged into her mouth.

  She wanted to be fucked. And whipped. And everything in between.

  As her panties fell away, the material was replaced with his hands, cupping her ass, stroking her hips.

  She gasped as he inched a finger teasingly into her asshole.

  “Give it to me,” he said. “Give me the right.”

  She shivered, filled with so much emotion. “You have it,” she pledged. “The right to whip my body, to use it.”

  He dug his fingers into her ass, lifting. She was off the ground, his arms holding her, her legs wrapped around his waist. It was an act of sheer acrobatics and sheer pleasure.

  After a few moments of sucking the life from her lungs, he set her back down. She wobbled on her feet. He undid her bra, one hand holding her steady by the arm.

  Woozy, she felt him lift her hands. One by one he tied them to the silk. The material grew taut and so did her body.

  She rose onto tiptoes. The perfect target.

  “That’s it, baby,” he murmured.

  She glowed from the approval, the sheer pull of his masculine energy.

  This man mattered to her, and she to him. No matter that it was kinky.

  In fact, there was something happening here she’d never felt in any other kind of attraction. A deeper bond, more intimate.

  Certainly more trusting. How had he gotten her to forget everything, the people, the situation?

  His fingers grazing her lips, he said, “This will feel like paradise.”

  And she believed him, so sure of it her bones ached to feel the punishment.

  A woman brought out the whip for him. Serenity recognized her as Alice. She wore a black halter top and a short black skirt. She looked beautiful with her long hair flowing.

  Serenity felt a tinge of jealousy as Ross looked her over. But as he took the whip it was clear he had interest only in Serenity.

  Ross put it to her lips.

  She kissed it delicately, reverently.

  He trailed it down her cheeks to the hollow of her neck all the way to the valley between her breasts. Her nipples ached as the golden orbs rose and fell in time with her chest.

  Ross weighed one in his hand, applying the whip to the other. A caress followed by a light snap.

  She moaned as the leather impacted her skin, just hard enough to be felt below the surface. Her nerves awakened to the root, pleasure mixed with the odd stinging feeling.

  Ross slapped the whip on her hips, one after the other. Then he moved behind her.

  She gasped, no longer able to see him, no longer able to tell what was coming next.

  Her pussy throbbed as she waited. Once, twice she heard the whip whistling in the air. Then on the third time, when she was barely able to stand it anymore, the whip fell on her back, directly between her shoulder blades.

  He was right, it was better than good.

  It was paradise.

  * * * * *

  Hours later Serenity awoke in his arms. He hadn’t left her this time.

  She still had the cuffs on, the ones he had placed on her wrists and ankles after bringing her back to the playroom. It was the same room she had been in before, only this time they had played together.

  First he had laid her down on her stomach and checked over her back. There were no lacerations, only minor bruises. He had rubbed in the ointment with his large, sexy hands.

  She had let him have his way with her.

  Finally when she was nicely warmed and oiled up he had helped her onto all fours. Then he had mounted her, his cock hard and rubbed down with the very same ointment.

  Together, slick and urgent, they had committed to one another, acting out the passion from the whipping, his hand in her hair, her body pushed against his, giving, offering, surrendering. The sex had lingered long past the act itself, with the orgasm settling into warm caresses and a silent, almost-desperate clinging.

  She had sensed he was as afraid to break the spell as she was.

  Lucretia had said he had feelings.

  It wasn’t what he said—but what he didn’t say.

  Serenity wondered all this now as she lay awake listening to his heartbeat. Like every girl from time immemorial, she thought, trying to interpret its rhythmic thumping. Looking for a private message. A commitment.

  A commitment to what though? What was it they had exactly? Every time with him was like living out a wicked dream, like a fabulous intoxication that came with hangovers.

  Who was she? Where was she?

  “You’re tense,” he said.

  She forced a smile. “I didn’t know you were awake.”

  “I don’t sleep.”

  “No, of course not,” she said dryly. “You’re a bat.”

  “It’s been this way for me most of my life.”

  She sat up. “You aren’t kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “You never sleep at all?”

  “Maybe an hour or two, sometimes I’ll lie awake and count sheep. I’ve lost track of all the trillions over the years.”

  “What about when you were with me?”

  “I listened to you breathing. I enjoy the warmth of you against me.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about that,” she said.

  “It creeps most women out. That’s why I seldom stay the night with anyone.”

  “You could have told me.”

  “I
believe I just did.”

  Serenity furrowed her brow. “You need to take me to dinner. I want to talk about this…and other things too.”

  He smiled, a little patronizingly, she thought. “In time.”

  “What do you mean ‘in time’? You got something more important to do tonight? If I’m to decide whether to date you…”

  “You aren’t,” he finished her thought.

  “Excuse me?” It was one thing to decide not to be in a relationship, it was quite another to be told one’s status with a man after sleeping with him.

  “You’re submitting to me, there’s quite a difference.”

  Serenity gathered the sheet about her breasts.

  “So I’m what, a little piece of ass?”

  “You’re a consensual slave,” he said, nonplussed. “And you will remain so as long as I say.”

  Serenity arched a brow, her best, oh, no he didn’t just say that face.

  “You seem upset,” he regarded her.

  “You think?” She was out of the bed in a flash. Notably he made no effort to stop her as she put her clothes back on and headed for the door.

  How the hell she would get home, she had no idea. Worse came to worst, she would call a taxi. As it was, the club was empty by the time she left the room and both companies she called refused to come to the old warehouse district at this time of night.

  Which left Ross as her one and only means of transportation. Freaking awesome.

  Keeping silent had been the best way she knew of to keep from crying. Or chewing his head off.

  Safely behind closed doors, back in her apartment, she let it all out. All the pent-up emotion, the feeling foolish, the wishing Ross were someone else, the knowing he wasn’t.

  Needless to say, sleep wasn’t on the agenda.

  About half past five she had a fitful dream, more of a waking fantasy. Ross had been a gentleman slave buyer and she had been the merchandise put up for auction.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Nude and trembling, nothing but a collar for comfort, Serenity awaited the auctioneer’s call.

  “Will it be long?” asked the barely legal, slender blonde next to her.

  Serenity moved to answer when the auctioneer’s assistant stormed up to them.

  “Silence,” he commanded the blonde.

  She whimpered, begging forgiveness.

  He snapped his fingers and she fell to her knees at his feet.

  At once the blonde kissed and licked the leather of his boots, her luscious breasts swaying, her long golden hair trailing on the ground.

  “And what about you?” the assistant asked Serenity as he received the obeisance of the blonde slave.

  Serenity, no novice chattel girl, had put down her head.

  “This slave awaits the pleasure of her Masters.”

  He chuckled. “Always giving the party line, aren’t you?” His finger snaked under the collar and he yanked it, lifting her onto tiptoes. “We best clear a profit on you, understood?”

  “Yes, Master.” She grimaced, adjusting to the pressure.

  “What are you?”

  “A slave, Sir, an item to be purchased.”

  “Good answer, you can learn something from this one, young lady,” the assistant said, looking down at the blonde. Snapping his fingers, he beckoned the golden-haired beauty to her feet.

  “What are you?” the assistant asked the blonde.

  “A s-slave, Sir,” she said meekly.

  “Close enough.” He tousled her hair. Turning to Serenity, he said, “We have a special buyer for you tonight, assuming he can take the heat of the bidding.”

  Her eyes betrayed her fear and wonder.

  The assistant reached around to slap her ass. “And it will cost him a pretty penny too.”

  Serenity’s body was thrust forward into the assistant’s waiting arms. He took his time, fondling her.

  Serenity did not resist. She thought of the buyer and what he would be able to do to her for the right price. No limits on his power over her, how she was disposed of, by whom she was used and how.

  “Better put on a good show,” the assistant warned, grabbing her breasts and twisting them.

  In due time a handler came and fixed a leash onto her collar and that of the blonde in front of her. The blonde was taken first. They pulled her hard, nearly knocking her on her ass.

  Serenity heard the laughing on stage as the young woman was pulled under the lights unceremoniously. The auctioneer was commenting on her qualities, gesturing and touching quite graphically. In a few moments Serenity heard numbers being called, offers and counteroffers, all of them from men who wanted to have the blonde for their own.

  Serenity felt the heat between her thighs. She was slick and wet. Aroused already and the proceedings had not even begun.

  “Sold!” shouted the auctioneer and a cheer arose. The blonde was pulled off the stage the other way so that Serenity was unable to see her. Was she happy or sad? Scared or excited?

  “You’re up,” the assistant said.

  Serenity’s leash tightened. She stumbled and tried to keep up as the man yanked her forward.

  The auctioneer was waiting to catch her. His hands strategically placed, one glomming her breast, the other hooking itself between her thighs.

  The audience howled as she was violated, caught completely off guard and forced to feel the waves of unwanted pleasure. The auctioneer knew what he was doing. Masturbating her just to the simmering point and no further, he removed his hands and began the presentation.

  “Lot 368,” he announced. “Prior-owned goods, obedient, trained in all orifices.”

  She turned beet red as he turned her about to display her pussy and asshole. To demonstrate the ability of her mouth he spread her jaws wide.

  “And look at the pearly white teeth, she whitened them as a free woman, vain little creature.” The auctioneer pulled back her hair. “Vanity is not her issue now, is it?”

  Serenity’s neck bowed, accentuating her breasts.

  The auctioneer took full advantage, playing with them and lightly slapping. “Who wouldn’t want this little beauty at their beck and call, chained to the foot of the bed or happily waiting in a cage down the hall? Beat her if she misbehaves or just be fun, her kind loves it anyway. In fact, punish her by not beating her and watch how hard she strives for your rough attention.”

  Serenity felt the downward pressure, forcing her. She went to her knees just as he wanted her to.

  “Have I a bid of a thousand?”

  Voices rose, quickly, one after the other. In moments they were up to ten thousand.

  “Fifty thousand,” called a deep voice, cultured and rich as molasses.

  Serenity trembled. It was the buyer, the mysterious gentleman, she was sure of it.

  Murmurs went up from the audience.

  She was beside herself, wanting to know who he was, what he looked like.

  “Seventy-five,” said the man though no counterbids had come in.

  The auctioneer laughed. “Have we any competitors? Do I hear eighty?”

  “Eighty,” called a man.

  “Eighty for the wench, do we hear eighty-five?”

  “A hundred,” said the gentleman.

  “A hundred five,” said his competitor.

  “One fifty,” said her secret admirer and the room fell silent.

  “Going once,” called the auctioneer. “Twice…”

  It was all over and they all knew it. Serenity’s body had changed hands, her breasts and thighs, her sighs and climaxes, everything about her belonged to a new man, a bold adventurer with a spirit for high-rolling gambles.

  “You better be worth his while,” hissed the auctioneer. “We have a reputation to upkeep.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Two fresh handlers took her from the stage.

  She tried to look back to catch a glimpse but the light was blinding.

  All she heard was laughter…and then the sound of the alarm clock.
<
br />   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Even Selia knew enough not to pester her the next day.

  With bags under her eyes the size of Pittsburgh she plodded on. She probably should have stayed home but work was what she needed right now to keep her from brooding.

  And most likely crying.

  It all caught up to her at lunchtime. Selia found her sniffling by the soda machine.

  “We’re getting out of here,” she said, steering Serenity straight to the elevator.

  Serenity didn’t even fight her, which was a sure sign of how far gone she was.

  Over juicy gyros at Zeus’ Heavenly Foods, Serenity put it all on the line.

  Selia listened carefully, which was something Serenity knew from experience took great effort on the young woman’s part. It took the younger woman all of three seconds to diagnose the problem.

  “Is that all?” she exclaimed after the half-hour diatribe.

  “Well, I abbreviated it a little,” Serenity said defensively.

  “I’m sure you did,” said Selia, wiping a bit of cucumber sauce from her lips. “Look, it’s obvious you two are hot for each other. You’re both stubborn as hell and someone has to give in. You’re the subbie, so it’s gonna have to be you.”

  “But I have nothing to give in about. I’m totally right.”

  “You’re also alone, not counting me. How’s that working for you?”

  Serenity frowned. “Minus you? Not well.”

  “Exactly, so why don’t you tell him how you feel? And then tell him how he feels.”

  “I’m sure he’ll love that.” Serenity could picture it, the great Ross Lassiter being served up a piece of humble pie.

  “Go to him,” Selia said. “Just let it unfold. You’ve overthought the whole thing enough as it is. That’s the problem with BDSM, it’s all mental.”

  “It has to be when you’re defining boundaries.”

  “And you two have boundaries on separate continents,” Selia quipped.

  Serenity sighed. “Maybe you’re right.”

  Selia picked up Serenity’s untouched sandwich to take a bite. It was a play right out of Lucretia’s book.

  “I know I’m right, the question is will you be smart enough to admit it.”

  Chapter Six

  Serenity’s hand trembled as she knocked at the door. The building itself was a work of art and she could scarcely imagine what Ross’ penthouse must look like.