“You may leave them on. One day soon, I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to have to keep them silent.” He lined his cock up with my soaked core. “Best learn now just how difficult that’s going to be.”
He surged up inside of me in a single, powerful thrust. I gasped, my body still having to stretch to take him.
“Oh God, Sir!”
Master Mal rose up over me, his right hand going to the nape of my neck. For less than a moment, I thought he was going for my throat to choke me, but he never went higher than my collar bone. It was a pressure, a way to hold me down. He drew back before snapping his hips, driving himself back inside me.
My hands came up, the motion making my wrists jingle. Fuck, he was right about the difficulty of keeping the bells from jostling. I gripped his right wrist with both hands, needing to hold on to him. Our eyes met and my breath caught.
This was fucking. Down and dirty. It was fast, hard, and rough. I’d had various types of sex over the years. After my twenty-first birthday when I’d decided I wanted to try to have a sex life, I realized I would have to come to terms with men being inside me again. It wasn’t that I felt like penetration was the only way I could have sex again, but my attack had taken enough away from me. My freedom, my sanity, mybaby. I did not want it to take anything more from me. As Jason trained me, I grew stronger physically but also mentally.
Even though Master Mal was on top of me, holding me down by his palm to the nape of my neck, I knew that I could remove him if I desired. Before, with the other Doms I was with downstairs, I was always looking for that escape.
I knew in that moment, as I gripped Master Mal’s wrist, that I didn’twantto get away. I wasn’t looking for that escape because I didn’t have to. Master Mal was giving me something far more precious than the pleasure of his thrusts inside me. He was giving me back my freedom.
To let go.
To relax.
Tosoar.
My eyes rolled back into my head as I flew, anchored by this man, who, ironically, could also take away my freedom with the slap of a pair of handcuffs.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mal
My little owlcame back down slowly. All submissives handled subspace differently. When I’d experienced it under Mistress Charleen’s sturdy hand, I’d felt like I was walking on clouds. It was a hazy experience, featherlight, but also not one that I was too fond of. I was too much a control freak to allow myself to be that out of it again.
This was the first time I’d had a submissive experience subspace without my direct guidance. I wasn’t entirely sure what had caused her to tip over the edge in such a profound way. That level of pleasure wasn’t generally achieved just from fucking, though I was sure it was possible.
Caring for her was no different. Since I was wearing a condom, cleanup was simple and quick. Valentino kept a cabinet in every room with specific supplies. I pulled two water bottles from the fridge, a blanket from the shelf, and a protein bar from the bowl. She had pizza left, but that was carbs, not protein.
Wrapping her in the blanket, I lifted her head, sat down, and then rested her on my thigh. Since there were no marks to care for, at least not until after her discipline, I offered her comfort with soft words of praise and light strokes on her cheek below her mask.
I was beginning to wonder if she’d fallen asleep, as many do, when she turned her face into my thigh. Rubbing her cheek against my skin, she let out a long, contented sigh. “Mal…”
I let the lack of title slide. She wasn’t the only one riding a high. I’d had a lot of sex in my life. That sex included a lot of variety. What we’d done was near mundane in comparison, and yet it was one of the most sensual experiences of my life.
It brought back Master David’s inquiry as to whether I’d found my girl. Was it too soon to hope that I had? I didn’t think so. My little owl felt right under me, in a way no other woman ever had before.
I knew she came with baggage. Beyond the mask still on her face, there was Master Kade to deal with. I didn’t understand their dynamic, and that bothered me. Additionally, she’d obviously been hurt before. I hated that idea. Hated the fact that she’d been hurt.
Safe, sane, consensual.
It was the foundation of BDSM. Beyond the toys—and fuck, there were alotof toys—and the power exchange, there was an understanding of consent. People not in the lifestyle misunderstood that Doms held the power. And we did, but it was not taken. Nevertaken. Submissives gave us that power, gave us the privilege and the responsibility of it. There was no one without the other.
The moment that safe word was spoken, the moment that ‘safety’ was compromised, it was over. No more power, no more exchange.
This beautiful creature by me had offered someone that power and they had not given her safety in return. I did not blame her for her inability to be bound. In a twisted way, I was looking forward to the challenge that experiencing dominating her would provide me. I was in no waygratefulshe’d been hurt, but I could still appreciate the challenge.
If I ever found out who hurt her… I closed my eyes, resting my head back on the cushion. I did not want her to sense or misunderstand my wrath. I was a federal agent. I believed in the law, but fuck, I hated that there was someone out there that had hurt my little owl.
She started to stir more.
I sat up, shifting my attention downward. “Welcome back,” I said lightly, still stroking her face.
She hummed, turning into my touch. “Good to be back, Sir.”
