Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(88)

She rocked up and gave him a long, luscious, appreciative kiss. “You’re a brave man, Haugen.”

Rangers lead the way.

Yet, her words, “You’re a brave man,” sent a slow slide of satisfaction through him. As he turned, he wondered if the Mistress realized she never called him boy as she had with her slaves. Her previous slaves.

Bending, he gripped his ass cheeks and opened. Prostate exam, here we go.

Cool liquid drizzled over his crack. Something pressed against his backhole.

Fuck.

“Push back against it, my tiger. It’ll go in easier.”

Gritting his teeth hard enough to bust a mouthful of molars, he obeyed and felt the damn thing slide in. He’d glimpsed it as he’d turned—the size of a fat man’s thumb—so why did it feel big as a f*cking fist?

Burning. Stretching. Finally, it settled into position with a plop. He had a plug in his ass.

“Thank you for taking that, Benjamin. Taking it for me,” she said softly, her hands caressing his hips and thighs. “It means a lot to me.”

He exhaled. The feeling of her gentle hands on his skin and the sheer…ownership…of her claiming that forbidden place sent a heated warmth through him.

He was hers. That was right. The way it should be.

Did she realize possessiveness went both ways?

“Stand and hold the pegs again,” she instructed.

As he straightened, he had to grit his teeth. The damn invader sat in his backhole like he’d—

She reached around him and gripped his cock with her slicked fingers.

Oh shit, yeah. His hands clenched the pegs convulsively.

Her breasts were against his back, her hips against his ass. Her firm fingers slid up and down his dick, over and over. And then she moved a hand down between their bodies and wiggled the ass plug.

Every single f*cking nerve back there wakened with a roar. “Fuck!” As the urgent, needy throbbing consumed his entire groin area, he almost came right then and there.

“Yes, I rather thought you might enjoy this.”

She waggled it again.

He made an indescribable noise as he fought back his release.

She laughed. Fucking sadist.

Her fingers pumped his shaft, then gripped his balls, squeezing mercilessly enough to turn his shortened curlies gray—and yet, the damn thing in his ass made her every sadistic action feel like shiny-bright pleasure.

She stepped back and picked up the other flogger, the vicious one that stung like hell. Even as she started, his cock was pulsing in time with his ass and balls in a carnal concerto. And the stinging blows from the flogger were amping up the volume.

Every stroke seemed to hit in rhythm with his pulse—and the throbbing of his dick. More and more…and as his brain filled with smoke, the world slid sideways until each blow was a hot splash of sensation sliding down his back right to his straining shaft.

“Don’t you just look pretty, all glassy-eyed.”

He realized she’d turned him around. Had put her hands on his face.

Her eyes were bright, sunlight through a gray sky. Pink flushed her high cheekbones. Her hair had escaped the braid to create fine tendrils over her temples and neck. Her shoulders and arms were pumped up…and he could see her bunched nipples beneath her elastic tank.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he said. Thought he said. Wasn’t sure.

Her eyes half closed, and her voice came out a low murmur. “You’re something, Benjamin.” She caressed his cheek and kissed him so sweetly, so f*cking lovingly that his heart did a slow somersault.

Damn, he loved her.

But then she moved back. “Drink this, and we’ll move on to other things.” She curled his fingers around the bottle and helped him hold it.

His head wasn’t…quite…in the game, but his body was demanding those other things. Was screaming, sex, sex, sex, with every pulsation of his cock, every throb of his *. He wanted to go down on her, to taste her sweetness, inhale her musk, run his tongue over—

She pinched his arm. “Drink, Benjamin.”

As he gulped the cool liquid, his head cleared. Slightly.

But seeing her strip right down to naked yanked his mind into sharp focus. She even released her hair and left it loose the way he liked it. Oh yeah.

When she stepped to the lounge and crooked her fingers, he was right there with her, first sitting, then letting her push him onto his back.

In this position, the f*cking anal plug felt bigger. Dammit.

Yet, the discomfort disappeared when Anne bent and gave him his first treat—a long, slow kiss.

Sometimes she kissed like a Domme—controlling and teasing—and sometimes she was all soft, generous woman. Damned if he didn’t savor both. Today, he got the sweet as if to provide a contrast to the sadistic, flogger-wielding Mistress.

Still kissing him, she sat on the lounge. When she lifted her head, he expected her to cut to the chase. Instead, she nuzzled his cheek. Then his jaw. His neck. So very gentle, and he realized she was kissing each white scar. So sweetly.

He closed his eyes and relaxed into the sensations—despite the increasing demands of his dick. Warm lips, then she gave him a sharp bite at the base of his neck.

He’d have a mark there in the morning—but compared to the way his back burned and his cock throbbed, the pain barely registered. “Ow,” he murmured and heard her chuckle.