The Agreement (49 page)

We stopped at the edge of the dance floor and
Drake took me in his arms and started to dance, placing one of my hands on his
hip and the other on his shoulder while he held my hips. We swayed together for
a few moments, him smiling down at me.

"Drake Morgan, MD," I said, smiling
back at him. "I didn't know you could dance, Master."

"Oh, I have been known to cut a rug from
time to time."

"Cut a rug?"

He laughed. "It's an old term for
dance."

 I realized as he led me around the dance
floor for a few moments, smiling broadly, that I loved it when Drake smiled.
His face lit up, and it seemed all the cares fell away and he was happy. It
made me happy to see him so relaxed.

The next song was slow, something from the big
band era I didn't recognize, and we just melted together, my arms around his
neck, his around my waist, my head on his shoulder, his face in my neck. I
loved the feel of his body against mine, how warm he was, his body so strong,
reassuring. I felt totally safe here, at this high-roller BDSM party where
people drew blood, electrocuted each other, and struck each other with whips
and paddles. Drake made me feel safe. I felt as if I could do anything with
him, give up total control to him, and he'd know what to do. Yes, he had gone a
bit too far with the spanking, but it was my fault, trying to go beyond my own
limits to please him, despite it upsetting me too much. It wasn't really his
fault that I bled. I was determined to beat him in the game of how much could I
take and how much was he willing to give.

"Ms. Bennet, I think I want to fuck you
now," he whispered in my ear. His words sent a shock of lust through me,
and I emerged from this sweet dreamlike state I'd been in from slow dancing
with him.

"Yes, Master," I said, my voice
breathless. He took my hand and led me out of the ballroom and to the
staircase, back to the bedroom assigned to us. He pulled me over to the bed and
practically threw me onto it, and I laughed as I bounced and he climbed on top
of me, a smile on his face.

I waited to see what he'd do to me, my hands
above my head, him between my spread thighs. He just rested on his hands above
me and his gaze moved over me, from my face and lower. Then he bent down and
kissed the tops of my breasts, which bulged out over the bodice.

"You look delectable."

He pulled the leather bodice down just a bit so
that my nipples poked out over the edge and then he began to suck and nibble
them, sending delicious chills through my body straight to my groin.

"Master," I said, my eyes closed as he
sucked and licked my breasts. "Are you going to tie me up?"

"Shh," he said and sucked one nipple
into his mouth, his tongue circling the areola. I groaned and arched my back,
pressing my breast into him.  "A slave doesn't ask what her Master
has planned. She just waits. But I think I'm going to just fuck you missionary
style tonight."

I frowned, wanting to see how being surrounded
by all the kink would affect him. I thought it would make him more intense,
maybe trying things with me that he hadn't yet. Instead, he wanted to fuck me
vanilla? I bit my lip, holding back my protest.

"Don't do that," he said, touching my
mouth. "Kate, you just have to let me decide how I want to fuck you. It
shouldn't be your concern. You're going to come one way or the other, so leave
this up to me. Do you understand?"

I nodded and let my mouth fall open slightly.
"Yes, Master. I'm sorry. I just thought…"

"When we're in scene, don't think of
anything but pleasing me. If it pleases me to fuck you missionary style, it
should please you to comply."

I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes. "Yes,
Master. I apologize but I just can't help but be curious why. I thought at a
BDSM
party
…"

He didn't say anything for a while, and even
though my eyes were closed, I could almost feel his eyes on my face, his
expression so intense.

"I like contrasts and appreciate irony,
Kate. Downstairs, everyone's busy getting their kink on, and here we are,
fucking like a pair of ordinary lovers."

I opened my eyes and stared into his for a
moment. Was he saying that's what he wanted? That's how he felt about me? Just
ordinary lovers?

"So this is an ironic fuck, Master?" I
said, unable to keep a grin from starting.

He grinned widely, his eyes crinkling, a
mischievous look on his face. "
Very
ironic. How transgressive are
we to fuck like this at this party? Now
shh
and spread your legs wide
like a good vanilla girl."

Then, he very deliberately and very slowly began
to seduce me with his touch and his mouth and his words, whispering in my ear
how much he wanted me, what he would do to me. I didn't think it would be as
intense as if I was bound and helpless, but it was in its own way. He undressed
me slowly, removing the dress and the garter belt and hose, and I was
surprised. I thought he'd want to keep them on, given he liked the look of them
and how leather smelled when warm. But he seemed to want me completely naked
instead.

Then he undressed as well and lay between my
legs, fully naked, his thick erection pressed into my groin. He took his time,
working me up with his fingers and his tongue, exploring every part of my body,
so that I was aching with need. Then, he pulled me on top of him so that I lay
with him between my thighs.

"Seduce
me
now," he said and
closed his eyes. So I did, repeating exactly what he did to me, using my mouth
and tongue and fingers, rubbing myself against him shamelessly, shoving my
breasts in his face, my hair trailing down his body as I placed a trail of
kisses down his belly and began teasing him, breathing on him, slowly licking
him all over before sucking him into my mouth, my hands cupping his scrotum.

By the time it came to actual fucking, I was so
ready, my face heated, my thighs quivering as he entered me, working me up in
his way, stroking me with the head of his cock, and it didn't take long before
I was ready.]

"Master, I'm going to…"

But he didn't stop. He just kept on with what he
was doing.

"Look in my eyes," he said, holding my
face in his hands. I could barely keep them open, but did. "Say my
name."

When my orgasm started, he just fucked me
missionary style until I cried out, his name instead of
Master
on my
lips.

He came as well in a few strokes, his face red
with effort, then his jaw slack, his eyes half-lidded as his orgasm started,
ramming himself into me with each spasm. He collapsed onto me and panted in my
ear for a moment, then kissed my neck. I couldn't help but smile.

He pulled back and saw my smile and smiled
himself, a trickle of sweat on his forehead.

"So?" he said, raising his eyebrows,
grinning like a fool. "How was vanilla ice cream without any chocolate sauce
and whipped cream tonight? Good enough?"

"More than good enough, in case you didn't
notice, Master."

He bent down and kissed my throat.

Then he couldn't resist and sat up between my
thighs and spread my legs wide so he could watch his come drip out of me.

I covered my face to stop my smile.

"What are you smiling about, Ms.
Bennet?" he said and I could hear the amusement in his voice. "The
fact I can't deny at least one of my kinks?"

I opened my hands and watched him as he cocked
his head to the side, admiring his artwork.

He glanced back to my face, and smiled and his
smile did something to me. I can't describe it, or explain it. Whatever it was
we thought we'd be to each other, I felt as if that had been passed,
surmounted, overcome. What we became I wasn't sure, but I knew the agreement
was pretty much thrown out the window.

If Drake realized it, he didn't seem to care.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The Monday before Christmas Eve, on our night
together because Dawn was working an extra shift, I was at 8
th
Avenue before Drake,
which was very rare. I brought along a couple of strings of Christmas lights
and some decorations, plus a sprig of real Mistletoe I picked up from a green
grocer near my apartment. I was just wandering around his apartment, thinking
of where I'd want to string up the lights when he arrived, wearing his camel
colored overcoat and plaid scarf, his cheeks red from the chill.

"You're here," he said, smiling.
"I was running a bit late in surgery."

"I'm here, breathlessly waiting for
you."

"Just the way I like you."

I smiled and helped him with his coat and
packages. Once he was out of the coat, I went to him with the sprig of
Mistletoe behind my back.

"What have you got there, Ms. Bennet?"

I held it up, grinning. "Just this," I
said. Try as I might, I couldn't hold it high enough over his head. "I
need stilts to get it over you."

"No stilts for you," he said and
grabbed me, his arms slipping around me. "Too dangerous. Don't you know
you're supposed to hold it over your
own
head? Not that I need any
excuse to kiss you…"

He kissed me and the mistletoe was all but
forgotten. Once again, I was amazed at how quickly I responded to him, my body
immediately wet and aching at the touch of his mouth on mine.

While he grabbed my ass with one hand, he
slipped the other under my skirt to feel my garters and naked pussy.

"
Mmm
," he said against my
throat. "Slave, you are nice and wet."

I smiled, gasping a bit when his fingers slipped
inside of me.

"You've got me trained like Pavlov's little
submissive, Master."

He laughed at that and then pulled away.
"Speaking of Russians, do you have some Anisovaya?"

I nodded and went to the sideboard where the
crystal glasses waited. We did a toast to each other.

While he nibbled my neck, I brought up something
I had hoped to talk about.

"I wish we could go somewhere to celebrate
New Year's, Master."

He didn’t say anything for a moment.

"We'll meet here during your time off. I
have no scheduled surgery for a week. I was thinking we could go to a special
Fetish party for New Year's. Maybe you could pretend to get sick and we could
sneak out and go. This time, we'd have to wear masks so no one would recognize
us. The party I have in mind is in Brooklyn. There would be fewer people there that
either of us would know compared to the one in Manhattan."

I liked that idea. It would be something
special, and I was excited to see what an ordinary fetish club of ordinary
Brooklynites would be like.

"What are you doing tomorrow, Master?"
I asked, unable to keep from questioning him.

"I'll probably just stay around here. Play
some music. You could sneak over if you can make an excuse to be alone for a
couple of hours…"

I smiled. "I'll make sure. Will they dance
at these Fetish parties?"

"You liked dancing with me the other night,
did you, Ms. Bennet?"

"Yes," I said. "I did,
Master."

I laughed when he picked me up and swung me
around the way I'd seen my grandfather's generation do when dancing the
Jitterbug. I giggled when he twirled me around, and then pulled me tightly
against his body.

"I did learn in high school," he said.
"Although I haven't had much time to practice. I know a few moves…"

Then he went to the sound system and sorted
through some records until he found one. He pulled the album out of its sleeve
and placed it on the turntable. When the song started, I heard some faint
scratches.

"Rock Around The Clock," he said,
smiling. "Bill Hailey and the Comets."

He started leading me around the room, showing
me how to do the Jitterbug, tripping a bit over the loose Persian carpets on
the smooth hardwoods. He picked me up, lifted me up high and then tried to
swing me over his other hip, repeating the earlier move, but his foot caught on
the carpet and he tripped just as I was coming down in a less-than-graceful
arc. He fell backwards and we tumbled to the floor.

A little too close to the sideboard with it's
sharp corner, which struck me on the side of my head, right above my eye. He
was able to mostly save us, me falling on his body, his arm going back to stop
the fall, but I still toppled against the sideboard. We came to rest on the
floor, and immediately I knew something was wrong.  Intense pain almost
blinded me and I held my head. When the pain finally subsided a little, I was
on my back on the floor, stars sparkling in my vision. Actual stars. Something
like warm water flowed over my cheek.