Bound to Me Page 8

  “That’s a, good girl, I want that all juicy. A juicy cunt doesn’t lie does it, Marla? You like me up your ass.”

  Marla tensed as the strokes to her clit became faster. She could feel herself starting to go over.

  “That’s it, tighten those muscles, clamp on my dick, and beg me to take you. Tell me I am your Master.” Master Stone worked her clit until she felt herself clench in a hard release at the same time he pulled back and tunneled into her ass. Seconds later, she felt his body stiffen, as he shot off in her ass.

  “You liked that didn’t you, Marla? I can still feel that empty cunt clutching for my dick.”

  The moment she felt that monster he called a dick slip out, she turned and moved out of his reach. Son of a bitch, the sick fuck didn’t even use a condom. He knew she hated cleaning “him” off of her body. She wanted to scream for Lonnie but she needed this bastard to take care of that uppity old bitch and he wouldn’t take the bait if Lonnie beat him up. She glanced over to see he was finished cleaning himself, and was once again stroking his already hard dick. Not happening. One round with him normally messed her up for anybody else for at least a couple of days. He was just too big and rough, she’d be sore as hell tomorrow. She had his attention, now it was time to fuck with “my shit don’t stink” Kat Robertson.

  “I know a woman who would take it just like you want to give it. We worked together at the restaurant. I walked in on her fucking a guy in the break room and he had her hands tied and was taking her ass just like you do. She was already bleeding and begging him to stop. I tried to stop him, but she screamed at me to go away. She needed this guy to finish her. She was a mess when they finished, he’d kind of knocked her around. But she was smiling, telling me she liked it that way.”

  Marla gulped nervously as his strokes increased and his dick took on an angry red color.

  “Come here.”

  “No.”

  “There’s an extra one-hundred and I’ll even throw in a few grams, if you come here.”

  Marla watched fascinated as he opened a drawer next to him and took out a small baggie, never once ceasing to stroke himself. Mesmerized by the thought of those pretty white lines, she walked over to Master Stone. Before she could chicken out he grabbed her arm and pushed her back on the bed. “Who is she?”

  Marla grabbed the small baggie out of his hand. Was there ever a more beautiful sight than all those little white crystals? “You didn’t hear it from me.”

  Master Stone gripped her chin, forcing her attention away from the bag she was admiring. “Tell me now, Marla.”

  “Katherine Robertson,” Marla said quickly.

  Master Stone smiled broadly, as he slipped into her pussy. “Dear, dear, Marla. I think I’m in need of your services one more time tonight. Then you can tell me more about the delectable Ms. Robertson.”

  * * * *

  Lonnie stood paralyzed in the hallway. He couldn’t believe Marla had said Katherine Robertson. She was a nice lady. She always said hi to him and smiled whenever they crossed paths. He knew Kat didn’t like that kind of stuff. Marla was just mad at her because Kat had busted up her nose. Master Stone would hurt Kat. She was so little and sweet. He’d have to warn her. He loved Marla but sometimes those drugs messed with her brain and she did bad things. He couldn’t let her do bad things to that woman though.

  * * * *

  Master Stone watched as Marla’s tail lights disappeared onto the main road. What an unexpected treat she’d been tonight. With a twisted grin, he walked to the sideboard and grabbed the whiskey decanter, pouring a generous shot. He had needs not just anyone could fulfill. Marla fit the bill nicely on occasion. But he could tell she wasn’t into the same shit he liked. Oh, she took what he gave because she wanted his money, fair enough. He wanted her screams and pain.

  He knew he’d already have killed her if that big fucker Lonnie didn’t come with her when she visited. He’d come close to ending her the first time he’d had that tight little asshole. She’d screamed out her orgasm so prettily, but it was the scream of pain and fear she’d given when he’d fucked her ass without prepping it that had sent him into a frenzy.

  His hands had been wrapped around her neck, squeezing the life from her as he’d watched her squirm. Lonnie had burst through the door just as he’d tensed to snap her neck and fill her hole full of cum. Women were made for one thing, to be used and discarded. That’s why God had made them so plentiful. Kill one and some bitch made two more to replace her. But to have a woman who knew she was meant to be used, to be hurt, to be made to beg for her pain that was nirvana.

  Caroline had been his first. She’d liked the pain, had begged him to beat her, to flay the skin from her body while he fucked her. He’d make her swallow his cock until she passed out from lack of air, fuck her ass until she shit blood for a week. Oh, and that juicy little cunt stayed wet, she’d wake up from a hard fucking and drop to her knees and bow her head so prettily. Just waiting for his next command. He could still taste the blood that used to coat her thighs after he used her, so sweet. He’d wept for hours when he realized he’d killed her during a rough play session.

  He knew Kat Robertson, had known her for years actually. She was a hot little piece of ass for sure, little older that what he normally went for, but fuckable nonetheless. Not that he actually believed Marla, that stupid twat wouldn’t try to help anyone. Let alone some poor waitress, she works with at a fucking restaurant. She’d walked right back out and let the guy finish raping her more than likely. It wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look at Kat, though, maybe he’d missed something. He knew the signs to look for in a woman who wanted her choices taken away, who wanted to be taken and used.

  If Marla was right, she’d have to be taken care of. Once he took possession of a woman who understood him, who needed to be hurt, he couldn’t leave any loose ends around. He tried not to break his playthings, but it happened more often than not. Things had to be tidied up so his slave could devote herself fully to being his, mind body and soul. Marla knew Kat’s secrets so Marla would have to go, along with Lonnie. Shit, who was he kidding? He needed to take care of both those low-life assholes anyway. Eventually Marla would get greedy and try to blackmail him or Lonnie’s dumb ass would get drunk and the whole town would know their honest God-fearing neighbor wasn’t the good ole boy they thought he was.

  Putting down the emptied glass he walked toward the bathroom to wash off the dried blood staining his dick and ball sack. He had plans to make if he was keeping a full-time slave again. The Cell hadn’t been used in years, and the restraints and chains needed to be oiled and cleaned. His whips and knives he kept immaculate. He actually used those when he visited his club in Lexington. Of course, those places were for tame play only, but it kept him in practice. As he soaped his dick, he couldn’t help but picture Kat Robertson bound and bloodied from his whip or knife, taking his dick. Fisting himself, he could just imagine how tight all her little holes would be. She was a tiny little thing, maybe five-two, curvy though. Hell, he’d split her the moment he entered her ass, and, oh the screams she would give him… throwing his head back he gave a shout as he released onto his own stomach. She would be perfect. He’d make sure of it…

  Chapter 8

  “I don’t understand why I have to go to your house? What’s wrong with my apartment?” Kat knew she was giving Jack a hard time, really, she’d already agreed to give him a week to show her how to make her fantasy a reality. It was just she knew she’d feel out of place in his million-dollar mansion. He’d have a butler and maids and secretaries and she’d stick out like a sore thumb… like a whore thumb. Because he brought out her inner nympho, she didn’t know what kind of mojo he was working on her, but she’d never had trouble saying no, or staying focused. He blew all that away with a husky “Katherine” whispered or commanded in her direction.

  “Give me one good reason you can’t stay in my home? You can’t tell me its work related. That is not an issue now.”

&nb
sp; “Well, I need to look for a job. Chase is going to help me.”

  Jack grabbed her and pulled he onto his lap as she made to pace by him for the thousandth time. It was past time he put a stop to this ridiculousness, she was going to his home end of discussion. “Look at me. You are going to pack a few essentials, stuff them in the trunk of my car and we are going to drive to my place and you are going to stay with me. There will be no more arguing just for the sake of arguing. You have five minutes to gather your things, after that I will toss you over my shoulder and carry you out of here kicking and screaming if I must. But make no mistake you will be going with me.”

  Kat yelped when he set her back up on her feet and gave her ass a resounding smack and nudged her toward the bedroom. Big bully. Turning, she stuck her tongue out at him before retreating into her bedroom. Grabbing an oversized tote bag she rummaged through drawers, throwing in underwear, bras, yoga pants, tees, tanks, and sandals. If he didn’t like it, he could stuff it. She didn’t have the rich-girl clothing allowance his normal women had.

  Making her way back into the living room, she found him waiting by the door. Without saying a word he took her bag, and guided her outside and into his waiting car. Kat tried to relax into the soft leather seats as he pulled out onto the main road, but her mind was jumping from possibility to possibility.

  “Kat, I think you’re vibrating.”

  Kat realized he was right and dug through her purse until she found her phone. “Hi Ruthie… No, I’m fine… No, you shouldn’t be happy I punched her in the nose… I will not put you on speaker… No, he doesn’t need to hear what the spirits are saying… fine, you’re on speaker.”

  Jack couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face when Ruth started speaking. “Jack, dear boy, so glad you talked some sense into the girl. She’s always been too repressed if you ask me.”

  “Ruth, please don’t bring up my sex life.”

  “How could I dear, you haven’t had one until Jack came along.”

  Kat buried her face in her hand as Jack chuckled. “But sex isn’t the reason I’m calling. The spirits tell me there is trouble on the way, the wind fairly shrieks to me of the danger you are in. Grave danger, Kat. I know you don’t believe in such things, but I do. My readings this morning were all exactly the same… every single card. Do you know the odds of that happening? Zero.”

  Kat didn’t know what to say. Ruth had never said anything like this to her. She was always talking about her spirits and cards, but it was usually mundane things like who was cheating or when a baby was going to be born, occasionally she’d come over, sad that a dear friend was soon to pass. But never something dire for her. “Ruthie, calm down. I’ll be extra careful I promise.”

  “It’s too late, Kat, things have been set in motion. I’m calling the girls.”

  “Ruth, no. The last time you all got arrested for being caught naked in the town fountain.”

  “Don’t be silly, dear, that was for Beltane. I need them for this. You need them for this.”

  Kat sighed. “All right, Ruth, if it’ll make you feel better.”

  “Jack, dear boy, you must keep her at your side.

  Jack for all his suits and ties was raised by a superstitious New Orleans bred mother, he believed in things not seen or heard even if Kat dismissed them. “No worries on that front, ma’am, she’s not leaving me for any reason.”

  “Good, good. I must go. Esme is here I can hear that damn caterwauling feline she insists on bringing. Give me strength.”

  * * * *

  Kat tried to keep her jaw from dropping when she saw Jack’s “mansion.” He might be loaded, but he wasn’t rubbing anyone’s nose in the fact, if the cabin ahead was any indication. It was beautiful, but certainly not what she’d been expecting. No huge fence with gates and Rottweilers running around to kill would be thieves or trespassers. Geez, she needed to quit reading all those melodramatic, Gothic novellas. She’d lived in Barton her whole life, a mansion being built wouldn’t have been something that would have slipped by the busy bodies in town. She did seem to remember the talk of timber trucks rolling through town about a year ago though.

  Jack pulled the car into one of three garage bays closing the door behind them. A door directly to her right was opened and a man about her age stood still, looking in their direction with a frown. “Uhmmm, Jack. He looks mad.”

  “That’s Connie.”

  “I don’t think I’d let him hear you call him that, he doesn’t look like he’d appreciate your humor.”

  Jack laughed. “It’s his name, sweetheart. Alec Connie is a friend. He oversees my homes, and travels with me regularly. He’s going to love you, I promise.” Giving her a quick peck on the forehead, he climbed out of the car.

  Kat doubted that, he looked like he loved a good fight and that would be about it. Opening her door, she wasn’t surprised to find Jack with a hand held out to help her. She did love a man with good manners. Looking up at the opened door the man he called Connie, was gone. “Come on, I told Connie I’d be bringing you home. He makes a mean lasagna.”

  Letting Jack guide her with a hand resting at the small of her back, she went through the door into a kitchen straight out of a magazine. “Oh. My. God… Jack. This kitchen is wonderful. Oh, and what is that glorious smell? Is that the lasagna? Look at that table. This has to be handmade, what beautiful craftsmanship.”

  Jack smiled indulgently as she completely forgot about him and the food and practically made love to his large kitchen table. She was running her hands up and down the surface of the table and onto the rough-hewn logs.

  “Jack, this is a work of art, you really need to make sure it’s cared for properly.” Looking up, she looked past him and noticed Connie standing quietly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Connie, I didn’t mean to be rude and ignore you. I was just blown away by this lovely table.” Walking past Jack, she held out a hand for him to shake.

  “It’s just Connie, ma’am. No offense taken.”

  Jack walked over and slapped Connie on the back. “That’s right, little Kat, Connie couldn’t possibly get offended when you gushed over his work.”

  Kat had been letting go of Connie’s hand but grasped it again quickly and unconsciously pulled it into her chest almost cradling it. “That is yours? I know a bit about art and sculpture and that table is both. It’s gorgeous! Do you have other pieces I can look at? I mean, if it’s not any trouble? And please, call me Kat.” Jack barely held in the laughter as he watched Connie try to extricate himself and keep the look of pride at her praise from his face. She’d charmed the poor bastard without even trying.

  “Let him go, Kat, you need some food before you fall over. I can almost guarantee you didn’t eat anything for lunch or dinner.”

  That got Connie’s attention. “Jack, you’re supposed to take care of her, not let her starve to death. What are you thinking? She’s barely bigger than a minute to begin with.” Muttering under his breath about how terrible Jack was, Connie made his way over to the oven to take out a large pan.

  Kat was all but drooling by the time they sat down at the table. She’d insisted on down placemats for fear she’d drop something and damage the table, then proceeded to scold Jack for not taking care of Connie’s art. The smug bastard was eating it up, too. Frowning at Jack anytime she didn’t have a bite of food in her mouth or on the fork ready for her to eat. When her glass had gotten down to just the ice Connie had jumped to refill it before Jack could move, muttering again about how to properly take care of a sub.

  Kat felt like a stuffed and pampered harem girl. Connie had ladled up a heaping portion for her and Jack had insisted on feeding her almost every bite from his fork. She’d been faintly embarrassed until she’d noticed Alec never batted a lash at the odd behavior. She’d tried once to take the fork from him and he’d gently put her hand on the table and asked she allow him to do this for her. Alec had nodded approvingly when she said ok.

  “Are you going to the club this weekend?”


  Kat’s eyes flew to Jack. “You and Ronan are on your own this weekend, Connie.”

  He had to be talking about the BDSM club Jack mentioned earlier.

  “Can’t say I blame you.”

  Kat looked back at Connie. She couldn’t believe she was calling a man that big Connie, who was looking at her with a soft smile. He really was the sweetest man. “Can we go now and look at Connie’s work, Jack, please? I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.”

  Jack nodded and she was around the table trying to haul Connie out of his chair talking a mile a minute. God, he loved having her in his home. She fit perfectly. He just had to convince her she fit perfectly into his life no matter the location. He didn’t spend a lot of time here in Barton, only when the board was using the resort at the lake for teambuilding and vacations. He’d have to convince her, her home was with him now… wherever that may be.

  Alec Connie allowed the little pint size woman to drag him from room to room answering her rapid fire questions about the pieces he’d built and carved over the years. It was kind of embarrassing, to be honest, the only other people who liked his work were Jack and Jack’s family. Working with the wood brought him a sort of peace. Although he wasn’t involved in the military anymore, those times and the things he was required to do still had the power to take him to a bad place. He lost himself in whatever he was carving. There were times Jack had to come pull him from the garage and stuff food down his throat… bad food because Jack could not cook.

  “You could sell any of these pieces, Connie.” Jack’s little subbie’s voice cut through his thoughts.

  “No one wants to buy these old things.”

  “I want to buy one right now, well if I had the money I would, I promise. You could make a pretty penny if you could make more pieces. I know these are Jack’s and he would never part with them, but if you make another table or anything let me know. I know a woman, from when I was in Nashville that manages an art gallery. She doesn’t do the buying, but the owner does listen to her input. She would love, love, love everything you’ve shown me.”