He dipped his head to hers and their lips met. As he slipped his tongue into her mouth, she moaned, her nipples stiffening against his chest as her arms circled his neck. A wild ache shot through Aaron’s chest, as if his heart were bursting from its tight confines.
“Morgan,” he breathed, giving in at last to his deepest held desires. “I want you. I want to make love to you. I must have you.”
~*~
It was a dream. It had to be a dream, but it was such a good dream—the perfect dream—that she never wanted to wake up.
When she’d come to and found herself still chained to the wall, her arms aching, her mouth taped shut, her hair in piles around her feet, at first she had cried silent tears of self-pity and rage. When she was able to calm herself down enough to think sensibly, she knew eventually someone would find her. She’d prayed with all her might that Aaron would appear to rescue her, and somehow, miraculously, he had.
When he’d taken her in his arms, not appearing to care that she’d been sheared, and reeked of urine, she’d understood she had to let him know, somehow, of her true feelings for him, not as a trainee, but as a woman. If she had to wait out the last week of training before telling him, then so be it, but she would not leave the Chateau without letting Aaron know she had fallen head over heels in love with him.
Now his words reverberated like chiming bells in her soul. I want you. I want to make love to you. I must have you.
“Yes,” she said in astonished but fervent agreement. “Please, yes.”
She watched with hungry eyes as Aaron rose from the bed. Reaching for the hem of his T-shirt, he drew it over his head and tossed it aside. He had dark blond curls that formed a V at his sternum and tapered down his flat abs. His eyes on her face, he unzipped his jeans and stepped out of them, kicking them aside. He wore nothing beneath, and his cock, long and thick, was fully erect, the tip glistening.
All her fatigue and stress from the morning’s ordeal fell away as she stared at his beautiful, naked form. Without realizing what she was doing, she rolled from the bed and lifted herself to her knees on the floor in front of him. Taking his shaft lovingly in one hand, she cradled his balls in the other as she looked up at him. “Please, Sir, may I worship your beautiful cock?”
He smiled, though his eyes were blazing. “Yes,” he said simply.
She lowered her mouth over his shaft, taking him in all the way, as she’d practiced under Claudette’s careful eye. She milked his cock with her throat muscles and tongue, savoring the silky softness and the hard steel beneath, while her cunt throbbed.
“Oh, god,” he moaned after a few minutes of her loving attention. “You have to stop. It’s too good.” He pulled away from her with a groan. Bending, he reached for her and lifted her upright, and then pressed her down onto the bed.
“I have to have you, Morgan. I need to fuck you. Now.”
He fell on top of her, his strong body heavy and welcome. He took her face in his hands as his mouth closed over hers. As their tongues entwined, he nudged the head of his cock at her wet entrance and pushed gently inside.
Morgan groaned against him, her cunt spasming with aching pleasure around his shaft as he penetrated her fully. His lips moved from hers to kiss her face, her eyelids, her neck, her nipples, as he moved almost desperately inside her. She could feel his wild spirit, his powerful longing.
Her own passionate spirit rose in response. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t just being fucked by some guy—they were making love. It was like a perfect thunderstorm or the splendor of a rising wind far out at sea—dangerous and overwhelmingly beautiful.
And then her mind shut down altogether as raw, fierce sensation claimed her senses. Dimly, she was aware of him crying her name as he shuddered and came inside her. She was skimming along the edge of her own climax when he pulled away from her. She reached blindly to keep him inside her, but he was stronger, and he slid instead down her body, pushing her thighs apart as he positioned his head between them.
When his tongue found her center, she mewled like a kitten. As he licked, suckled and teased her already highly sensitized sex, a rush of blinding pleasure crashed with a sudden force that was so powerful it completely overwhelmed her.
She must have lost consciousness for a few moments, because when she returned to herself, his body was again draped over hers as he revived her with kisses. His mouth still on hers, he lifted her arms over her head and then, gripping her wrists, pressed them hard against the mattress.
Though she wouldn’t have thought it possible a moment before, her body instantly reacted to his dominance, her lust rekindling in a whoosh of flame. He was still hard as he entered her once more, pinning her down with his strong hands and body as he made love to her a second time.
His cock was perfect as they moved together in the ultimate lovers’ dance. She tried to keep her eyes open so she could memorize his handsome face as he loomed over her, whispering her name over and over like a prayer as he moved inside her. But, despite her best efforts, as another climax rose inside her, her eyes fluttered shut.
“You belong to me,” he murmured throatily. “I will claim you, Morgan. I will make you mine.”
“Oh, Aaron, yes, yes, yes,” she cried, her words rising in pitch as he carried her along with him over the precipice of an orgasm so blindingly intense she again left the planet.
Her spirit returned as Aaron lifted himself and slowly rolled away from her, their sticky bodies parting, the air cool against their heat. He lay next to her on his back, his chest rising and falling as his ragged breathing slowly eased.
A stunned, thrilled wonder suffused Morgan and seemed to cast an actual golden glow over them both. She rolled onto her side and lifted herself onto one elbow, half expecting him to vanish as she did so.
He was so beautiful, his blond hair tousled and falling over his closed eyes, his lips softly parted, his chest slowly rising and falling, as if he’d fallen into a deep sleep. Morgan curled herself into him, resting her cheek on his shoulder as she breathed in his masculine, clean scent.
“Hmm,” he murmured sleepily, his arms coming around her and pulling her close.
“Hmm,” she replied, suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion, in spite of the wild happiness that suffused her being like sunlight.
When she awoke some time later, he was still there—it hadn’t been a dream.
Chapter 13
Aaron opened his eyes, confused for a moment as to where he was. Sunlight was slanting through the window, and a glance at the small alarm clock on the nightstand told him it was a little before noon. There was a pleasant, warm weight curled against him and, as he focused on the sleeping girl in his arms, everything came rushing back with vivid clarity.
She must have only been dozing, because as he gently extricated his arm from beneath her, she opened her eyes, a smile lifting her lips as she gazed up at him. “Hi,” she said softly.
“Hi, you,” he replied with an answering smile as he pulled himself up against the pillows. “How are you, love? You feeling better?”
“Uh, yeah,” she replied, her smile lifting into a full-out grin. “I’m feeling absolutely fabulous, thank you very much.” She gave a coquettish toss of her head, but then her smile fell suddenly away, her hand coming up to her ragged scalp.
Aaron reached at once for her, pulling her into his arms. “It’s only hair, Morgan. It will grow back. And for the record, you’re still breathtakingly lovely, I promise you.”
“Thank you,” she said in a small voice. Then she lifted her head so their eyes met. “What happens now, Sir?”
“I’m not quite sure myself, to tell you the truth,” Aaron admitted. “I can tell you what I want, but any decision would involve you, naturally. Though I think we both tried our best to keep our relationship professional, it would be crazy now to deny we have feelings for each other—strong feelings. I want to explore those feelings with you. I want to know you better. I want to give my mind a chance to catch up to my heart.�
�� He gave a small, self-conscious laugh, but was determined to continue. He owed it to her—to both of them—to be completely honest.
“At the same time, I believe you have a strong submissive core, which we were just beginning to uncover when I had to leave, and I would hate to see you cheated out of the training you signed up for. The thing is, I don’t think I could remain neutral at this point as your trainer.”
“Permission to speak, Sir?” Morgan said, reverting suddenly to their old relationship, which felt odd in the extreme, given what they’d just shared.
“Of course,” Aaron promptly replied.
“Why would you want to remain neutral? Is there some BDSM law or house rule that says we have to keep our feelings out of the training equation? I admit I’m a total dweeb when it comes to love, having never been in it until now, but wouldn’t love make trust come easier? And wouldn’t that make the training experience more relevant and profound?”
Aaron shook his head in awe. “Are you sure you’re only twenty-five? That’s some awfully wise counsel, young lady.” He grinned again. “And, yes, when you express it so eloquently, I agree—trust would definitely make the experience more relevant and profound. And”—he added with a playful chuckle—“more fun.”
A knock at the door interrupted the conversation. “Come in,” Aaron called.
The door opened, and Laura appeared at the threshold. Her mouth fell open, her hands fluttering up to her face as she took in Morgan’s bedraggled appearance. “Oh, Morgan,” she breathed. “You poor baby, are you okay? I can’t believe Rick did this to you.”
Beneath the sheets, Aaron reached for Morgan’s hand. She squeezed back and smiled bravely at Laura. “I know I look like crap, but really I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me. He just scared the shit out of me.”
Laura’s eyes flitted toward Aaron, as if she only just noticed he was lying in bed with Morgan, obviously naked beneath the sheets. Consummate professional slave girl that she was, she betrayed nothing of what must have been surprise, her expression placid as she said politely, “I’m sorry to disturb you, Sir, but the Masters have asked that the household assemble in the main dungeon in fifteen minutes. Master Gerard wants us all to witness Rick’s punishment.” Her gaze returned to Morgan. “Are you okay to come, too, Morgan? I know they’d like you especially to be there, if you’re up to it.”
Aaron could feel Morgan’s sudden tension, but she lifted her chin in a resolute way. “I’m definitely up to it.”
“I’m so glad,” Laura said sincerely as she came farther into the room. “We were so worried about you. Rick’s crazy temper really got out of control this time. I’m so, so sorry this has happened.” She moved toward the small closet and pulled out a fresh white dress for Morgan to wear. “Tara will be able to fix your hair, I bet. She’s really good, but there’s not time now. Let me help you freshen up and dress.”
Aaron climbed out of the bed and pulled on his clothing. “I’ll just head back to my room and get properly dressed. I’ll see you two downstairs in a few.” He started to walk out of the room, but at the last moment, he returned to the bed and, leaning down, kissed the top of Morgan’s scruffy head.
~*~
When Morgan and Laura entered the dungeon, everyone else was already there. Master Michael and Claudette sat side by side on the couch, Scott, Tara, Kristen and Diana standing just behind them. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her as they came into the room, and she only barely resisted bringing her hands to her head to hide the mess there. No—let them all see what Rick had done. As Aaron had reminded her, it was only hair. It would, in time, grow back.
Aaron sat in one of the two chairs that flanked the couch on either side, and he flashed a smile at Morgan. Forgetting her scalped appearance, Morgan smiled back.
Laura took her place beside the other slaves, but as Morgan moved to follow, Michael said, “Take a seat in the other chair, Morgan. You will help to decide the full extent of Rick’s punishment.”
Nervously, Morgan took the chair across from Aaron, who gave her a small nod.
The upright cage had been moved to a cleared space several feet in front of the couch, and Master Gerard stood beside it, looking grim. Rick was naked behind the bars, his wrists cuffed behind his back, his slave collar noticeably missing. His face was streaked with tears and snot, and he looked so utterly miserable that, in spite of herself, Morgan felt sorry for him.
“Now that everyone is here,” Master Gerard said, “Slave Rick will be punished. As you can see, he no longer wears my collar.” Rick gave a small, pathetic cry, but Master Gerard remained stone-faced. “Until he can prove worthy of it, Rick is no longer a house slave at the Chateau.” He let this sink in a moment before continuing.
“Before we go further, we need to deal with the very real ramifications of his assault on Morgan.” Master Gerard looked directly at her. “Slave training aside, you are within your rights if you want to file legal charges against Rick for his assault against your person. He violated you and took something from you that was not his to take. Say the word, and the police will be called.”
Morgan’s hand went up to her mouth in surprise. It honestly hadn’t occurred to her to bring in any outside authorities. In the brief time she’d been there, the Chateau had become her world. She stared at Rick, who looked miserable and had begun to shake in his cage.
He did need to be punished, but how would calling the cops affect everyone else in the house? How would they explain the setup here? While what they did wasn’t illegal, it certainly wasn’t typical, and would no doubt result in a lot of embarrassing and intrusive interrogation by the police. Rick did deserve to be punished, and indeed, was clearly suffering right now, but the police?
Slowly, she shook her head. “No, thank you, Sir. I’ll leave the punishment up to you, Master Gerard.”
“Bon.” He nodded briskly as Rick slumped with visible relief in the narrow cage. “Now then,” he continued, turning toward Rick for the first time, “you will agree to attend a one-week anger management program at a live-in facility about twenty miles from here. Unless you can agree to that, there is nothing more to discuss.”
“Yes,” Rick cried out in a strangled voice. “Yes, Sir. I’ll go. I’ll do anything to win back your collar, Sir.”
“We shall see.” Turning to face the others, Master Gerard said, “I’m at fault here as well. I’ve been aware of Rick’s temper, and with what I’ve learned from our other house slaves today, I must accept that I’ve let it slide one time too many.” He offered a rueful smile. “I think I was flattered by those charming displays of jealousy, but I understand now how damaging that was to others, and also to Rick himself.” Turning to Rick, he added in a kinder tone, “I’m sorry, Rick. Assuming we can find our way back to one another, I will be a better Master going forward. I will teach you to submit with more grace and acceptance.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” Rick breathed.
“Scott and Kristen?” Master Gerard said, looking toward them. “Do you have the supplies?”
“Yes, Sir,” they said in unison. They both stepped from behind the couch. Kristen spread out a plastic tablecloth on the floor just beside the cage, while Scott handed Master Gerard a pair of barber scissors and an electric shaver.
Rick’s eyes widened with alarm as he stared at the scissors, his shoulders moving as he tugged at his wrist cuffs behind his back.
Master Gerard slipped the bolt on the cage door and pulled it open. Ignoring Rick’s obvious agitation, he commanded, “Kneel up on the mat.” He snapped the scissors with an audible click. “Just be thankful you aren’t manacled to a wall with your mouth taped shut.”
Rick hesitated at the open door of the cage, but then came slowly out. He sank to his knees and slumped forward, hanging his head. But then he rallied himself, straightening his spine and lifting his chin. To Morgan’s surprise, he turned to her and said, “I’m sorry, Morgan. Truly, I am.” Looking up at his Master, he added, “I’m sorry,
Sir. Thank you for punishing me.” Tears were again running down his handsome face, but there was something new there—a resolution and determination that Morgan recognized and silently applauded.
Master Gerard’s eyes softened, but his expression remained grave. “You’re welcome.” Taking a hank of Rick’s long, wavy hair, he slipped the silver blades around it, as close to the scalp as it would go, and snipped.
“There. That actually looks cute, don’t you think, Laura? It’s really badass, if I say so myself.” Tara put down her barber scissors and tilted her head as she regarded her handiwork. Training had been suspended for the afternoon, and Claudette had sent the girls up to tend to Morgan’s hair, while Gerard took Rick up to his rooms, and Aaron went to talk to Michael about the new training arrangements.
“I have to say, while I absolutely loved her hair long, you’re right. The new cut’s adorable. It’s kind of punk rock cool.” Laura grinned down at Morgan, who sat impatiently on the stool. Tara had insisted she keep her back to the mirror until she’d finished.
“Can I finally look now?” Morgan demanded with mock impatience. She was pretty sure the girls were lying to soften the blow but was still very curious to see the results of Tara’s attempts to make something of what was left of her hair.
“Yes, turn around and see the new you.”
Morgan turned, holding her breath. She let it out in a surprised gush. Tara had somehow managed to salvage some of the longer strands in the front, cutting them in such a way they hung rakishly over one eye. And while the rest of the hair was insanely short, she’d styled it so there was still something feminine in the look. “Wow. It’s not nearly as horrible as I thought it would be.”
“And that’s a ringing endorsement if ever there was one,” Tara laughed. “You should put that on my Yelp page, if I had one: Two stars—not nearly as horrible as I thought it would be.
“No,” Morgan said through their laughter. “I would give you five stars, based on what you had to work with.” She looked at her image, hoping Aaron would like what he saw. “Truly, you’re a miracle worker.”