Afterlife (57 page)

belonged to him.

He’d make a Master’s decisions for

her, because he’d

never let her hide from her own

desires. And there was a

freedom in that type of bondage

impossible to explain, but

it was something her heart had

understood for a very long

time.

“To give yourself to me, you have to

believe in your power

and freedom, Rachel,” he said, his

eyes very close. He was

squatting next to her, trailing his hand

along that open line

of her body, as if admiring a

sculpture, too tempting not to

touch. “I believe in your courage,

even if you don’t. I’m not

afraid of your pain and memories.

You can trust me with

them, know that I’l help you with

them.” He held her gaze

now, showing her the truth of it. “And

I promise I’l love you

al the more, seeing what you’ve

endured, yet what you’re

becoming when you let yourself love

again, let yourself be

the submissive you’ve always known

yourself to be.”

She shuddered at the idea, wanting so

badly to believe.

To hope. Her arms were starting to

tire. He straightened

and slid his arms under her, taking

her weight when she

began to falter. She abandoned the

pose entirely, wanting

to touch his face. Reaching up, she

traced his temple, his

jawline, and he caught her thumb in

his teeth, nuzzling it with

his tongue.

“Give yourself to me, Rachel,” he

repeated. “Tel me

you’re mine, just once, and I promise

to be with you, no

matter what you need. You just have

to be wil ing to try, to

trust me.” That intent expression fil

ed up her entire

universe. “Do you love me, sweet

girl?”

She couldn’t lie to him, not here, not

like this. And though

the pose was broken, the feeling

wasn’t. He was right. This

was where she’d found her truth, her

center, when she’d

had to put her life back together. And

now she found she

was no longer alone in that center.

She swal owed. “Yes,

Jon. I love you. I love you so much.”

His eyes deepened to that midnight

blue color. The

energy that came from him went

through the soles of her

bare feet, pressed into the mat. It

almost made her smile,

made her want to laugh. To cry. To

celebrate and yet be

held, quiet and stil , in his arms.

Joined with him in the most

intimate way possible.

He was holding her in one arm, and

as if reading her

mind, he now slid the other hand

back over her mound,

caressing her. She gripped his

biceps, held him harder. He

lowered her to the floor but gave her

the unspoken direction

to keep her legs closed together with

the pressure of his

hands on her thighs. Then he slipped

her yoga pants off her

legs, stroking her thighs and calves,

the soles of her feet.

He took the panties with the pants.

Then he removed her

snug tee, making her arch her body

and stretch her arms

back. He closed his hand over both

of her palms, pressing

her knuckles to the floor to keep her

arms over her head.

Rising, he stripped as wel . Her gaze

devoured every

inch of him, down to his aroused

cock, and the lean ropes

of thigh muscles that he would use to

thrust into her. When

he turned and bent, pul ing something

from his backpack,

she savored the delectable view.

“Close your eyes. I don’t want you to

see this for a

moment, and I want you to feel

everything.”

She obeyed, heard a metal ic tone as

something was

laid near her head. But then her

attention was pul ed from

that when he brought his body ful y

down upon hers, naked

flesh to naked flesh. With his hands

on her hips and upper

thighs to remind her to hold her thighs

closed together, he

positioned himself so that his cock

slid into the narrow

opening between her thighs, slowly

finding the moist path to

ful penetration.

In this position the angle was higher

and yet somehow

deeper. It was a Tantric position, one

she’d seen before in

her studies, where the lovemaking

was prolonged and

more excruciating, because it was a

helpless position as

wel , everything concentrated in one

narrow section of their

connected bodies. She made a soft,

inarticulate sound that

had him curving his hands against her

head, tangling

fingers in her hair.

He thrust in, rotated, and slowly

drew back, then went

back in, seating himself as deeply as

the position al owed,

making her groan of need deepen.

“That’s it, sweet girl.

You’re so wet for me. I wanted my

cock deep inside of you

when I did this. You remember I told

you that velvet col ar

wasn’t your permanent one? I

finished the permanent one.

Open your eyes.”

She did, immediately. He propped

himself on one elbow,

breast to chest with her, and showed

her a choker of

sterling silver wire, yoked at

intervals by vertical supports

made of gold. Several strands of the

silver wire had been

twisted into a decorative band

running horizontal y through

the center of the col ar, flanked by the

simple straight lines

of the others. A sapphire pendant,

bound in a sinuous

pattern of silver wire as a setting,

was attached to one of

the gold supports.

“It has a screw-down lock in the

back.” He lifted it to show

her, his weight resting on his arm so

he wasn’t crushing her.

As he did, he moved inside of her,

making her catch her lip

in her teeth. But her eyes didn’t leave

the col ar as he spoke

again. “Once it’s on, only I can

remove it, with a tool I

designed specifical y for the lock. On

the gold support

closest to it, I’ve etched the Sanskrit

word for “owned”,

because I saw how you responded to

that at the club. You

want me to own you, heart, body and

soul.” His eyes delved

into hers, pinning her soul in truth.

“And that’s a good thing,

because it’s what I ful y intend to

do.”

“When did you do this?” she

whispered. The col ar, his

words, the proximity of his body—al

of it was a barrage on

her senses.

“I started working on it a few months

after I met you.” His

lips twisted. “I knew it was wrong,

because at the time I stil

thought you were married. Even if I

never gave it to you…

Wel , I didn’t want to send any

energy your way that would

disrupt your marriage. But I made it

anyway. I guess I know

why now.” He gave her that look of

mild reproof and heated

passion that had her pussy muscles

constricting around

him. He made a movement, one slight

press against her

leg, a flex of his thigh muscle, and he

settled in deeper,

making her gasp.

“Like that, do you?” His voice was

almost a growl, but he

brushed the smooth metal against her

cheek, continued in

a deceptively milder tone. “The

velvet col ar gave me the

exact measurement I needed, and so I

adjusted it yesterday

and put it on a mold to test it for

scratching or pinching. I

won’t say I want the fit to always be

comfortable,” his eyes

gleamed, “but I want you to always

want to wear it.”

The problem wasn’t wanting to wear

it. She wanted it so

badly, she could already feel it on

her throat. But stil she

hesitated. In response, he shifted

again, laying the col ar

next to her. He settled his hand in its

place, letting her feel

the fingers press there. She lifted her

chin instinctively and

he registered it, with a flare of desire

in his gaze. He slid

back out, just an inch or two, then

back, slowly compressing

her clit, sending a ricochet of

reaction through that area and

deep into her womb. He was so deep

and shal ow inside

her at once, it was maddening.

“You already know it when I put my

hand at your throat,

Rachel. Don’t deny the truth. Tel me

you’re mine, and I’l put

this on you. After that, you won’t

ever shake me.” His fine

ebony brow lifted, his eyes sparkling.

“Though, for the

record, you’re not going shake me

even if you refuse it.”

He bent now, hand stil on her throat,

and his mouth

paused over hers. When her lips

parted, he increased the

pressure of that restraint, keeping that

barely there distance

between their lips. “You know I’m

gentle and patient, but I’m

also a Master. I’m not going to let

you run from me, or

yourself. I think you want and need

that. Almost as much as I

want and need you.”

She wet her lips and glanced toward

the col ar. He’d

been working on it for months. This

wasn’t a whim. It was…

everything to him. It was in his face,

his intensity. She was

afraid, but how could she possibly

turn her back on what

might happen, what could be offered

here?

Will you refuse your Master,

Rachel?

He was her Master. She knew it.

Who was she kidding?

She was going to have to trust him,

no matter her fears.

“Yes,” she said, her voice barely

over a breath, but she

found the courage to meet his gaze.

“Yes. I’m yours,

Master.”

That sculpted jaw tightened further,

his brow drawing

down as he moved, made her gasp.

“This is mine? This

pussy?”

She nodded, her cheeks heating a

little at the directness

of it. He bent, kissed the top of her

breast, then dipped to

suckle her nipple, giving it a sharp

nip that drew a little cry

from her as his cock thickened,

shifted. “These breasts?”

he asked, ruthless.

“And the heart beneath them,” she

promised. “Every part

of my body, my heart, my mind, my

soul. Goddess help me,

it’s always been yours, Jon. Please,

don’t let me…don’t

leave me alone.”

“I won’t.” He moved again, that

slow, smal thrust and

withdraw that was building to such a

painful pressure in her

lower bel y. “The way you ran from

me the other night? That

won’t happen again.”

“No, Master.”

“And you’l accept punishment for it.”

Gladly.

His lips quirked. “You squeezed

around me like a fist,

sweet girl. You need the punishment,

don’t you? Ask for

your col ar, and your Master wil give

you everything you

need.”

She swal owed. “Please, let me wear

your col ar, Master.

I’m sorry I took the other one off.”

His expression softened then, his

fingers brushing her

cheek. “I’m sorry that evening got

ruined. I expect we’l have

to do it again, give you plenty more

memories to erase that

one.”

Thinking of how many times since

then her mind had

returned to everything that occurred

before
Cole appeared,

she thought she might not want al of it

erased. But…a

different sensual encounter with Jon

and the Knights? If he

needed to feel better about it, then the

least she could do

was help.

Since her lips were trembling against

a smile, he didn’t

have trouble reading her mind. He

gave her a narrow look,

but there was a warm humor in his

eyes that added to the

mélange of positive feelings building

in her—love, arousal,

happiness.

“You might be an even bigger

monster than Dana.”

She wanted to chuckle, but he was

done playing. He did

that deep press again, trailed the col

ar down her sternum,

teasing the pendant over her stiff

nipple, then he replaced it

with his mouth, a firm lick there, a

quick press of lips over

the nipple to pinch it into his mouth,

give her moist heat.

“Jon…” It was a long, breathy sigh,

and her legs pressed

together, squeezing him inside her.

The desire surged up in

her, impatient and not wanting to be

banked any longer.

Her gaze fastened on that col ar.

“Jon, please. Master.

Please put the col ar on me so I can