taking his taste, showing him what she wanted to do to his cock if she ever had the chance.
They were both gasping for breath when he pulled back.
“Tattoos?” she managed, trying to regain some level ground. She wanted to know everything she could about him, but maybe that wasn’t allowed in this lifestyle. He’d tell her. Maybe after another flash-fire of passion.
Every action, every look, every little word seemed to be a match in a drought-stricken forest for them. Any one of them could start something they both wanted to finish. Right now she didn’t care about the stripes across her back. She needed him again.
“Nearly every man in my family has them. It’s sort of a ritual. When you turn eighteen, if this is your chosen lifestyle, you go see Uncle Tony to get the marks.” He pointed to the one at his navel, partially blocked by the tip of his erection. “This one basically says ‘control your belly’. It’s about always remembering to control yourself during any situation, sexual or otherwise, involving your sub.” She had to admit, he’d exhibited more control than she would have. She was writhing and begging and given the chance she would have pounced on him without a second thought. Something, she had to admit he brought out in her. She’d never been so desperately needy for any other men.
He held out his arm, displaying the band of black figures on it. “This one says
‘keeper of the temple’.” He touched her forehead. “And ‘owner of the treasure’.” He cupped her mound and she tilted into him, making a needy sound when his finger slowly dragged over her clit. Pulling away, he flattened his hand between her breasts.
“And ‘protector of the spirit’.”
She swallowed wondering if eventually, she’d get a mark that said temple, treasure and spirit. Even if this was really just for tonight as she suspected, she’d look into it. She 59
Brynn Paulin
was all those things and even if he didn’t claim her, he’d touched those parts of her marking her as indelible as any tattoo.
“What now?” she asked. She didn’t want this to be over yet.
“How does your back feel? There was lanocaine in the cream.”
“I’m okay.” She would have said the same even if she felt every bruise. “I’d like to continue.”
He was silent for a moment and from the corner of her eye she could see him studying her. “I don’t think you can. Not as we’ve been so far.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue with your master. I’d hate to top this with a spanking which, I think, is about all you’d be able to take right now.”
“All right,” she said sadly.
“I didn’t say we were finished…just finished like this.”
“We didn’t even try—”
“Another time.”
Ryan lifted her into his arms and headed for the door that connected to the room beside this one—room 3D, the other half of his private quarters here at Pleasure Palace.
He’d already pulled back the blanket on the bed and it stood ready and waiting for the next step of Jessica’s seduction.
Carefully, he laid her on the satin sheets, conscious of her back. She wasn’t really hurt, just aching in the aftermath of something to which she wasn’t accustomed.
“This is nice for a dungeon,” she commented, lifting up on her elbows.
“This isn’t the dungeon. It’s my room when I stay over here.”
“So does that mean you’ll tell me your name and I can stop calling you Master?”
“No.” If she hadn’t guessed it was him, he wasn’t really ready to tell her. She’d know soon enough. He’d have liked to have said he kept the secret because he was 60
On Your Knees
unselfishly providing the stranger fantasy for her, that he was seeing it out until the end. Truly, it was more dread of the look on her face when she realized everything her boss had done to her. He hadn’t thought that part through very well.
He had plenty of experience with women rejecting him for his lifestyle. Even though she enjoyed
They were both gasping for breath when he pulled back.
“Tattoos?” she managed, trying to regain some level ground. She wanted to know everything she could about him, but maybe that wasn’t allowed in this lifestyle. He’d tell her. Maybe after another flash-fire of passion.
Every action, every look, every little word seemed to be a match in a drought-stricken forest for them. Any one of them could start something they both wanted to finish. Right now she didn’t care about the stripes across her back. She needed him again.
“Nearly every man in my family has them. It’s sort of a ritual. When you turn eighteen, if this is your chosen lifestyle, you go see Uncle Tony to get the marks.” He pointed to the one at his navel, partially blocked by the tip of his erection. “This one basically says ‘control your belly’. It’s about always remembering to control yourself during any situation, sexual or otherwise, involving your sub.” She had to admit, he’d exhibited more control than she would have. She was writhing and begging and given the chance she would have pounced on him without a second thought. Something, she had to admit he brought out in her. She’d never been so desperately needy for any other men.
He held out his arm, displaying the band of black figures on it. “This one says
‘keeper of the temple’.” He touched her forehead. “And ‘owner of the treasure’.” He cupped her mound and she tilted into him, making a needy sound when his finger slowly dragged over her clit. Pulling away, he flattened his hand between her breasts.
“And ‘protector of the spirit’.”
She swallowed wondering if eventually, she’d get a mark that said temple, treasure and spirit. Even if this was really just for tonight as she suspected, she’d look into it. She 59
Brynn Paulin
was all those things and even if he didn’t claim her, he’d touched those parts of her marking her as indelible as any tattoo.
“What now?” she asked. She didn’t want this to be over yet.
“How does your back feel? There was lanocaine in the cream.”
“I’m okay.” She would have said the same even if she felt every bruise. “I’d like to continue.”
He was silent for a moment and from the corner of her eye she could see him studying her. “I don’t think you can. Not as we’ve been so far.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue with your master. I’d hate to top this with a spanking which, I think, is about all you’d be able to take right now.”
“All right,” she said sadly.
“I didn’t say we were finished…just finished like this.”
“We didn’t even try—”
“Another time.”
Ryan lifted her into his arms and headed for the door that connected to the room beside this one—room 3D, the other half of his private quarters here at Pleasure Palace.
He’d already pulled back the blanket on the bed and it stood ready and waiting for the next step of Jessica’s seduction.
Carefully, he laid her on the satin sheets, conscious of her back. She wasn’t really hurt, just aching in the aftermath of something to which she wasn’t accustomed.
“This is nice for a dungeon,” she commented, lifting up on her elbows.
“This isn’t the dungeon. It’s my room when I stay over here.”
“So does that mean you’ll tell me your name and I can stop calling you Master?”
“No.” If she hadn’t guessed it was him, he wasn’t really ready to tell her. She’d know soon enough. He’d have liked to have said he kept the secret because he was 60
On Your Knees
unselfishly providing the stranger fantasy for her, that he was seeing it out until the end. Truly, it was more dread of the look on her face when she realized everything her boss had done to her. He hadn’t thought that part through very well.
He had plenty of experience with women rejecting him for his lifestyle. Even though she enjoyed
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