Leah Braemel - Personal Protection

He draped the leather harness over her shoulder and stepped away. “Put that on.”

“Yes, Master.”

He grabbed the chair she’d braced herself on and turned it around to face the window, then tossed a throw pillow on the floor. No need in her hurting her knees. He sat down, splaying his legs wide and pointed to the floor between them. “Kneel.”

After unlacing his fly and freeing his cock, he stroked himself. “You know what I want, Princesa.”

“Yes, Master.

She bent over him, her hair brushing his thighs in a silken caress. When she put her lips around his cock, he buried his fingers in her hair. “Remember, I can come, but you can’t.”

His cock filling her mouth, she muttered something indecipherable. The vibrations drove him insane so he decided to share the experience by using the remote to her vibrator. When she realized what he’d done, he held her head in place and pumped his cock deep into her mouth. From the way she squirmed, he could tell the vibrator was doing its job, driving her as insane as she was driving him.

Her tongue flattened against his length, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked him deep. The little moans she made drove him over the edge, his climax rocketing through him.

As she licked the lingering drops of come from his head, she smiled up at him. Damn she looked so perfect there. She’d look even better lying beneath him on the couch, her eyes unfocussed as he drove into her. But tonight, she was playing a game, thinking she knew about the lifestyle. So he’d show her exactly what happened when you played with fire.

“Go make me dinner, Princesa. Your master’s hungry.”

“Aren’t you-” A look of disappointment flickered across her face, mutating into frustration. “Yes, Master.”

Smiling to himself, he removed a cigar from his humidor and listened to her muttering to herself as she banged pots and pans in the kitchen. She’d expected him to reciprocate, to let her climax in return. Soon, she’d realize his denial of her pleasure was part of her training. Would she be so enthusiastic about her training when she realized she’d have to hand over such control to him?

Realizing Rosie was being extremely quiet, he wandered into the kitchen, and found her grabbing the counter with both hands, hunched over as she panted.

He hurried to her side. “What’s the matter, Rosebud?”

She could barely breath as she glared at him. “I’m trying really hard here not to come, goddamn it.” She closed her eyes and forced her breath out through her teeth. “Oh, God, Sam, I need to come so bad.”

“Poor little Rosebud, I left the vibrator going, didn’t I?” He wrapped one arm around her waist, and pulled her back against him. He dipped his fingers into the cleft between her legs. “Come for me, Rosie.”

It took only a single swipe of his finger over her swollen clit before she shook in release. They stood entwined, Rosie trembling as the aftershocks died down. He could have stood there forever, holding her, comforting her. Loving her.

After turning off the vibrator, he bent down and kissed her. “You go take out the vibrator and I’ll help you with dinner.”

The meal was almost complete when his Berry buzzed, Andy texting him that he was about to have visitors. Ah, now this might be an interesting test for her resolve. Sam composed a reply instructing Andy to allow his guests through but to go back into the apartment and leave the hallway clear. When the doorbell chimed, she looked to him, frowning when he didn’t get it.

“Someone’s at the door, Princesa. Wouldn’t do to keep them waiting.”

She turned slowly, carefully placing a paring knife down on the table. Ooops, good thing it wasn’t stickin’ in the cabinet an inch from his head. Or in the middle of his forehead. He had a feelin’ she had a damned good aim.

“You expect me to answer the door naked?”

“Yup. Andy’s back in his apartment, so no one will see you.”

“Did you forget about the cameras monitoring your door? Master.”

Crap. He had.

He pulled a face and shrugged out of his shirt. “Here, put this on.”

The doorbell chimed a second time just as he reached the front door. “Hey, Thalia, what brings you to the neighborhood?”

Spencer pushed Thalia into Sam’s foyer before Thalia replied, “Jocelyne invited us to dinner. After seeing Rosie’s little show in the window, I thought I’d drop in. Since I’m in the neighborhood.”

“Wasn’t that convenient for you? I’m surprised you didn’t convince Jocelyne and Robert to come here with you.”

Thalia chuckled. “Next time perhaps. Robert thanks you for the show, by the way.”

Sam shut the door behind Spencer and called, “Rosie, come out here and greet our guests.” He lowered his voice. “I want to know exactly what you said and showed Rosie at the club the other day. Everything, Thalia.”

Rosie peered around the corner. His shirt enveloped her like a dress, reaching nearly to her knees. And damned if that didn’t look just as sexy as when she was naked.

“Hello, Thalia. Spencer. I’m, uh, just in the middle of making dinner.”

“Come here, Princesa.”

Muttering under her breath, she took a deep breath and stepped to the middle of the doorway, her hands clasped in front.

“Rosalinda,” Sam growled when she didn’t come any closer. “Come. Here.”

Thank God, Sam had given her his shirt. Although considering Spencer had stripped down in front of her, maybe Thalia would insist she do the same. A sort of quid pro quo. Damned if the idea of stripping down wasn’t making her horny.

A quick glance showed the only eyes on her were Thalia’s and Sam’s which were shuttered, his emotion unreadable. Spencer stood in proper submissive form, two paces behind Thalia’s chair, eyes on his toes.

“Rosie, your master has given you an order,” Thalia said quietly. “By hesitating, you defy him which not only insults him, but embarrasses him in front of his guests.”

Order? Oh, right, Sam asked her to go over there. Her legs carried her to the middle of the foyer, just in front of Sam, and assumed a position mirroring Spencer’s. “I’m sorry for insulting you, Master.”

Shit, this submission stuff was tough when there were witnesses.

“How is dinner progressing?” Sam asked, just a little too casually.

She narrowed her eyes at him, then glanced at Thalia who smiled right back at her. “It’ll be a while yet. Master.”

“Will you be joining me, Thalia?”

“Thank you, but no, I’ve already eaten.”

He nodded. “Princesa, you may continue cooking. When dinner’s ready, you will wait for me beside the table.”

Thalia waved a hand toward the kitchen. “Spencer, help Master Samuel’s slave.”

Did he think that just because she wasn’t in the room she couldn’t guess they were going to talk about her? It was like being back in high school where the rich kids huddled together in their group and snickered at the kids from the barrio. Gritting her teeth, Rosie tromped into the kitchen and pulled two dishes from the cupboard.

“You’ll only need one place setting,” Spencer whispered. “Slaves eat what their master or mistress serve from their own plates.”

With a huff, she shoved a plate back into the cabinet, wincing slightly at the crash it made. At least it hadn’t broken.

“Tell me you didn’t, that she didn’t.” Sam’s voice rose, echoing through both the foyer and living room. “What the hell were you thinking?”

The rest faded back down to a harsh whisper, low enough that she couldn’t hear what they were talking about. But she had a pretty good idea, especially when he practically shouted, “She what?” followed by “Rosalinda. Get your ass out here. Now.”