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Bound: Masters of Fetishes, Book Three

By: Casey McKay
Published By: Baronet Press
Copyright: Copyright © 2015 by Baronet Press. All rights reserved.
5 Chapters / 49,167 Words
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Melissa's longtime boyfriend, Martin, is taking her on the trip of a lifetime. It might be just what they need since she has felt a disconnect with him lately. But her overactive mind convinces her that he's planned the trip for the sole purpose of dumping her... until he brings up the subject of marriage again. 

Martin doesn't know how else to convince Melissa that they are destined to be together forever. He's left his exclusive BDSM club in the hands of a capable friend and whisked her away to a private island. He can't figure out why she revels in physical bonds, but balks at the bonds of marriage. It's not a challenge the seasoned Dom in him is ready to back down from. 

When secrets from Melissa's past threaten to come to light and her well-being and safety are put at risk, can Martin protect the woman his world revolves around? Or will he end up losing everything that matters to him?

Chapter One

 

 

Melissa couldn’t sleep. And it was all his fault really. How could he sleep away peacefully beside her while she tossed and turned?

She rolled over and nudged Martin, trying to rouse him. He mumbled a protest in his sleep and turned his back to her, taking all of the covers with him. She followed him across the bed and pressed up against his back. Trailing her fingers up his arm, she blew on his neck.

“Stop,” Martin commanded.

Knowing he was awake, Melissa pressed on. Hoisting her leg up onto his hip, she slid her hand down over his chest.

“Melissa, I’m sleeping.” His voice was gruff and grumpy and still she persisted.

They had fought today. A rare occasion for them. And it hadn’t been a tiny argument, it had been a big, ugly thing. Issues came to light. She feared things had changed. They’d made up, they were back on even ground. But something wasn’t right. Melissa felt it in her gut. She couldn’t let it go. Even after magnificent make-up sex, she still felt amiss. Martin had fallen asleep. She had gone downstairs and puttered around for a few hours. She had read, watched TV, and even looked up a few recipes she had thought about experimenting with. She’d tried to quiet her mind, but nothing had helped.

“You’re not sleeping,” she countered. If he were sleeping, would his cock be hard? she thought as her hand grasped him.

Martin rolled toward her, forcing her to her back. He turned, pushing himself onto an elbow and looking down at her. “We have a big day tomorrow, you need to get some rest.”

“I know what I need, and it isn’t rest.” Sliding her legs open, she gave him a seductive look. Their post argument lovemaking had been just that, lovemaking. She needed him to pound the shit out of her. She needed it rough and she needed it hard. And she needed it yesterday. Otherwise, the thoughts in her head wouldn’t quit. She hated that she needed this and she hated asking. It made her feel vulnerable and weak. It opened her up for ridicule.

Martin looked down at her, but judgment seemed to be the furthest thing from his mind. A look of concern crossed his features as he blinked out of his foggy haze. “I’m telling you it’s time to sleep.”

“I can’t.” It was a plea, the closest thing to a whine that would ever cross her lips.

“So you’re disobeying me?” His face darkened.

She almost argued with him, her chest tightening that he was disappointed with her. She wasn’t disobeying him, but she couldn’t make herself fall asleep. Then she realized why he was asking. “Yes,” she agreed.

“Hands,” he barked.

Melissa stretched her arms over her head and wrapped her hands around the wrought iron headboard. Martin secured her wrists in the handcuffs that permanently hung there. Something was already slipping into place, making her feel calm and he’d barely touched her. She was already nude, having shucked her clothes before attempting to seduce him. He rose from the bed, just a pair of boxer briefs clinging to his body.

Martin opened the closet door and rustled around before coming back to her. “Up.” He motioned for her to lift her legs in the air as he doubled over his belt.

She barely held back a groan. He could have at least left her hands free if he was going to force her to hold her legs up. But she had asked for this, beggars couldn’t be choosers. She promised herself she’d skip yoga in the morning, her core would be getting a workout tonight.

“Keep them up, or you’ll get extra,” he warned.

Bastard. He already knew she’d never be able to keep them raised the whole time. He did this on purpose. She wanted to call him names, but at the same time liquid gushed between her thighs. He knew exactly what she needed. And that was the very thing that was keeping her awake. “Yes, Master,” she murmured when he seemed to be waiting for a response.

His lips tilted up in the slightest of smirks, then he raised the belt and cracked it down across her ass.

Fire. Fire lit up her skin. She forgot to breathe. She barely could anyway with the angle her legs were in. The belt cracked again and she let out a shriek, her breath whooshing from her body as the second line of fire burned across her ass. The third one came quickly and she bucked her hips. Pulling on the restraints and twisting to the side. She rested on one hip and thrashed, the edges of the cuffs biting into her skin.

“Up.” Martin sat back on his heels, waiting patiently with the belt in his hand for her to get back in position.

It took another few seconds, forcing air in and out of her lungs before she rolled back and raised her legs again.

“What do you say?” He raised an eyebrow at her and waited.

It was their signal. He was asking her what she wanted to do. If she told him to stop now, he would—no questions asked. “More, please.”

He pushed her legs back further, wrapping his hand around the back of one knee. The stretch was uncomfortable, but his hand there meant she couldn’t move again, she felt grateful for it. “Three more, those you were already getting,” he explained. “Then the extra.”

“Thank you, Master.” She bit her lip as he swung the belt at full force. It jarred her, pushing her up the mattress despite his hold on her.

He swung again.

Her ass felt like one big, giant welt. A throbbing mass of pain. It shot right to her core.

Two more in quick succession and she hissed a curse out between her teeth.

“Almost done,” Martin assured her as he rubbed the leather over her abraded skin. He lifted the belt, adjusted his aim, and then swung.

She bucked her hips and pushed against him with her legs when the belt smacked her upper thighs. “Wait!” she yelled.

He lashed her again, in the same exact spot, not heeding her cry. But then he threw the belt to the floor.

She heaved out a sigh as he lowered her legs.

“Open up, buttercup.” He winked at her as he shoved his underwear down his hips.

Sliding her thighs apart, she invited him in. Silently, she begged for him to take her fast and hard. But she would make no more requests. Her ass throbbed beneath her and her wrists felt chafed from pulling at the cuffs.

Martin settled between her thighs and slid into her.

She gasped as he stilled and allowed her to adjust around him. Tilting her hips up, she gave him a silent signal to continue. She was ready, she needed everything he gave her.

He pounded into her at a punishing speed. She wrapped her legs around him and dug her heels into his ass. She was wound so tight and teetering on the edge of an orgasm since the beginning of the night.  Watching him now—his muscular form bearing down on her, the thrust of his hips as he pounded into her—the sight alone almost made her reach her climax.

Their bodies smacked together, filling the bedroom with sounds of sex. Her pussy clenched, her walls clamping down around him. Biting her lip, she held off. She’d been begging for this moment and she didn’t want it over so soon. She focused on Martin’s eyes, he stared at her intently as he grunted and thrusted. It was cliche to say his eyes smoldered, but with Martin it was true. Sometimes staring at him too long made her want to combust.  

“I’m coming,” she warned.

“Yes, come for me, beautiful. Fucking come.”

She felt his cock thicken as her body convulsed. Her muscles tensed as if trying to suck him up inside of her.

Martin groaned and his hot seed spurted into her.

She arched her back, inviting him to thrust deeper as she crashed down in a haze of pleasure. Unwinding her legs from his body, her head dropped back against the pillows. Her eyes fell shut. She felt him around her. Sliding himself out. Uncuffing her wrists. Massaging her arms. All before he tucked her against his body and she finally fell into a dreamless sleep, free of thoughts and crippling doubt. He was the only one who could make her mind go quiet. She just didn’t want to admit she needed him.

 ~ ~ * ~ ~

 Martin tossed his keys into the bowl on the entryway table as he sifted through the mail. He’d spent most of his morning driving to the airport and back. Traffic had been insane, but he figured it was the least he could do. His friend Ethan had flown in from Los Angeles so that he could manage Fetishes in Martin’s absence. He didn’t want to send a car to pick him up when the man was doing him a favor.

He checked the time. It was already creeping past noon and he still had a full day’s work to accomplish. He should have gone right to the club after dropping Ethan off at his hotel, but something told him to drive back to his house to check on Melissa. He’d left her this morning with instructions to get ready for their trip. A surprise vacation which was long overdue. He’d been planning it for months, but he realized he should have told her about it sooner.

They were coming up on ten years together, so this was supposed to be a surprise anniversary trip. Instead, it was turning into damage control. He’d never been afraid of losing Melissa, losing what they had together, until this week. Now it seemed too real that she could pull away at any moment. And he had no one to blame but himself.

“Melissa?”

“In here.” Her voice came from the kitchen.

Walking in, he found her sitting at the island behind her laptop.

She smiled at him. “How’s Ethan?”

“Good, I dropped him at the hotel. I’ll go over things at the club with him later.” He dropped a kiss on her head as he walked past her. “Did you get any packing done?”

She raised her eyebrows. “How am I supposed to know what to pack if you won’t tell me where we’re going? Can I at least have a hint?”

“No.” He turned away from her and searched the refrigerator for something quick to eat.

“You’re impossible,” she said before muttering something else under her breath.

Shooting a look at her over his shoulder, he let the refrigerator door fall shut. “Calling your Dom names?”

“No,” she said, batting her eyelashes. “I’m letting my boyfriend know he can be a real asshole sometimes.”

Two steps brought him directly to her side. “We’re the same person,” he growled.

“Oh? Then yeah, I guess I was insulting my Dom.” She looked back at him, a challenge in her eyes.

More and more lately she pushed him. It felt like she was daring him to take control, forcing his hand to punish or discipline her. He hoped after their trip that problem would be resolved. They needed to reestablish their relationship dynamic. Melissa hinted that she didn’t fully understand what they were doing. After almost a decade together, maybe he took what they had for granted.

She still stared back at him, waiting for him to make the next move. So he kissed her. He tangled his hand in her hair, pulling her long, auburn locks and forcing her head back at an odd angle. “You’re playing with fire, Red,” he murmured when he finally released her.

Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him in closer and rested her head against his chest. “Are you hungry? I can make you lunch before you head over to the club.”

They discussed travel plans and traded their schedules for the day as they ate BLTs. An oddly domestic scene. From the outside, no one would have ever guessed he owned a BDSM club. Or that his live-in girlfriend was his resident submissive. They were just average people, navigating the ins and outs of a long-term relationship.

His mind was still on Melissa as he arrived at work that afternoon. One of the perks of running your own business was that you could come and go as you pleased. The downside was that everything ultimately fell in your lap. He was having a staffing issue. Membership had grown, which was a good thing, but vetting employees to work at an exclusive establishment took time. He leafed through some resumes, but decided hiring would have to wait until they returned from vacation.

They were headed down to the Caribbean. He had a friend with a private island and a house they could have all to themselves. He didn’t tell Melissa partly because he knew she would worry how much it cost, but mostly he wanted to see the look on her face when they got there. It would be their own little paradise—she could grouse all she wanted about him having money and her having none. Their backgrounds were different, he would give her that, but he considered everything he had hers as well. And if she wouldn’t shut up about it, he could always gag her. The thought made him hard. He should have taken her hints and indulged in an afternoon quickie when they had finished lunch, but he feared he’d never leave then.

His staff had planned a going away party for them at the club tonight. It was a nice gesture, but his temples throbbed over the amount of work he had piled up. He wouldn’t be enjoying their party, in fact, he’d be looking for ways to duck out so he could tidy up some loose ends.

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. “Come in!”

His buddy Tom walked in. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“Not at all,” Martin said, pasting a smile on his face. He’d asked Tom to get some information for him, but he’d expected a phone call, not a visit. It seemed he would be getting nothing done today.

“Sorry, I just met with a client for lunch in the area and I figured I could tell you what I found out in person.”

Martin clenched his fists. It had been his experience that news better delivered in person was never a good thing. “Okay. Should I be concerned?”

Tom took up the chair on the opposite side of his desk, resting his briefcase on the floor beside him. “We filed the cease and desist letter to Upshot Media, so technically we’ll have a case if they publish any more pictures. But…”

That was the part that had Martin sweating, “But what?”

“Upshot, like any other tabloid, works primarily with freelancers. So if the freelancers can’t sell their pictures or stories to them—”

“They’ll just go somewhere else,” Martin finished for him.

“Exactly.” Tom grimaced.

“You’re the lawyer here, what are my options?”

“Well, you could keep issuing cease and desist letters, but honestly, they aren’t going to do anything.”

Martin nodded in agreement. He thought the same thing even when he had first contacted Tom.

“The last two stories were pretty malicious with what was aimed at you and Melissa. Is there anyone you may have pissed off? Anyone with a vendetta?”

Martin scrubbed a hand over his face. He did not need this, not now. “Not that I can think of.”

Tom nodded, but a look of concern passed over his face. “It’s possible it isn’t personal and it’s just a hack reporter out to make a quick buck.” His words said one thing, but his face said otherwise. Tom clearly did not think this was about money. “If you can think of anyone that might be targeting you and would have reason to out you, specifically, then let me know.”

Martin told Tom he would be in touch. He decided to add this to the list of things he’d rather deal with later.

 

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