He's a judge with an appetite for the dark side
She knows exactly how to satisfy that hunger
DOMINATING JUSTICE (book one of a three part series, written as a stand-alone)
Enjoy the excerpt below! ***ADULT CONTENT, 18+ONLY***
A taste of Dominating Justice
He entered, feeling like a man walking to his death.
Brad stared at his bare feet resting on cold hardwood and wondered when he had lost his mind. Mark had mentioned The Den to him months ago, but he had laughed it off. Stress relief, his friend had claimed, a break from always being in control. He had assumed Mark had made up this place. After all, as a judge, the risks involved in being here were insurmountable. He had gone out of his way to avoid anything that would cast a shadow on his judgeship, but between his divorce, his ex remarrying, his adopted daughter's biological dad (aka his brother) being in constant trouble, shallow women he dated more interested in his political career than bed, and dissatisfaction with his job—he felt distinctly out of control.
He had never anticipated that Mark would follow through with sending him an invitation, yet here he sat—naked and about to surrender inhibition. But if he were caught here...or if Mark's assurances about discretion were false...then he would lose the last shred of dignity he possessed.
Dignity? Hadn't he just signed that away when he had agreed to the menu of services provided?
The click of the door caused him to swallow apprehension and glance up. His eyes narrowed through the dimly lit room illuminated by candles and lamps casting long golden shadows across the dark hardwood floors. Not much like a dungeon, he thought. Decorated tastefully in dark golds, reds and browns, the room exuded a sense of wealth and indulgence.
Mistress M stepped out of the darkness. Ebony hair cascaded past her shoulders, bare breasts showcased by a leather bustier that kept them pert and separated by a diamond studded strap that wound around her shoulders like a halter. Emerald green eyes peered at him from behind a leather mask as she strode slowly toward him, long legs encased in boots that went to mid -high, high heels clicking ominously on the floor, and a crop dangling loosely from her fingers.
He touched fingertips to the matching collar he had been instructed to wear and felt his cock tingling in response. He belonged to this exotic woman for the night—the knowledge extinguished his doubts.
"Stand up and take off your robe, Pet. I want to see you," she instructed as she moved in a slow circle around him.
He stood slowly, not sure what to say, and undid the sash at his waist. When the satin material slid off his body, he felt the tip of the crop slide up his spine. He held his breath, unsure what to say or do despite the lengthy instructions he had read prior to signing the agreement.
"You're missing something." Her hot breath slid against the skin beneath his ear. "Are you already disobeying me?"
Smack. The blow to his ass made him cry out with both surprise and pain.
Smack went the crop against his tender backside.
"Address me as Mistress M or Mistress. Always."
"Yes, Mistress." He turned his head to look at her and was surprised to see her smiling at him.
"Do you know what you've forgotten yet?" she asked.
He looked into her eyes, fascinated by the intensity of their color and the confidence burning in them. He glanced down at the bondage belt he'd been instructed to put on but had forgotten while caught up in the troubling thoughts torturing his mind.
He reached for it while she watched, more excited than he'd imagined he could be when he had first stepped into the room. He placed the belt around his waist while his cock rose to the moment. He knew the rules, no actual intercourse, but when he noticed her bare ass exposed by the leather thong, he couldn't help but wish their roles were reversed.
"You're thinking of all the lovely things you could do to me aren't you, Pet? Well," she poked him in the center of his chest with the crop, slid it up his throat, and used it to tilt his chin up until they looked at each other eye-to-eye, "I'm not a whore."
"What did you say?" Gloved fingers gripped his jaw and held him firm.
"Mistress, I'm sorry."
"Get on the table."
He complied, the cool of the wood against his back awkward as his long legs dangled over the edge while his cock pointed at the ceiling, the air teasing the tip. He hid his surprise when shackles clasped his ankles against the table, his legs spread wide. She grabbed one of his hands, kissed the inside of his wrist, and snapped handcuffs on him. She repeated the process with his other hand, her kiss warm on his skin, almost gentle. When he tried to arch his back to accommodate the uncomfortable position, she secured clamps to the belt at his waist and held him firm.
Her nipples teased the hair on his chest when she leaned over him and looked into his eyes. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes, Mistress, I do." And he did. Maybe it was the way she looked at him from behind the mask, but he felt like he knew her, that she wasn't as anonymous as she would like him to believe.
"Maybe I'll break some rules with you...but nothing you don't want. I'm here to bring you pleasure, do you understand?"
"I do, Mistress M." He swallowed the extra saliva gathering in his mouth at the glide of her tits over his chest when she rose up and nibbled on his ear. God, he wanted to kiss her despite the pain growing in his extremities.
"I read what you wrote about wanting to lose control for awhile, but you are in control, pet. I will never do anything you don't want. Just say your safe word and I'll stop. You wrote that your word would be 'overruled.' Still want to go with that?"
He nodded; his voice lodged in his throat at the nagging thought that he recognized her voice. Impossible. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the sensations of the moment.
Strands of her long hair tickled his face as she licked his neck. Musky scents from the candles meshed with the smell of lavender on her skin. Sounds of their breathing mixed with the snapping of the wood in the fireplace.
Strapped to the table in a spread-eagle position, cock at the ready, he was hers for the taking and liked it.
Liked feeling wanted.
Liked being used.
Liked being handled.
Liked being hers to command.
Gloved hands slid over his shoulders before moving over his chest as if memorizing the contours of his body. He bit his lip, the anticipation of what was to come almost too unbearable.
She stood between his spread legs, crop in hand, and looked at his balls and cock as if contemplating exactly what to do with him.
Smack. She slapped first one thigh and then the other, alternating between hard and gentle, creating a rhythm that stimulated him. He had never felt more exposed or more aroused. His cock throbbed with the need for release. His balls quivered with anticipation.
"You punish people for a living, don't you, Your Honor?" She slapped him with the crop again, harder. "Do you ever doubt yourself?"
She dropped the crop and grabbed his balls with her gloved hand. Squeezed. "What did you say?"
"No, Mistress." He winced when she lightly spanked his already aching genitals. "Sometimes, yes, Mistress. Sometimes I do."
She rewarded him by licking the tip of his cock. "Don't lie to me, Pet"
"I'm sorry, Mistress. I can't admit weakness. Job hazard."
"Do you feel weak now?" She slid her gloved hand over his shaft.
"No." He frowned at his answer. He had never allowed himself to be tied up, to be this vulnerable with anyone in his life, yet he had never felt this free.
One hand on his cock and the other working his balls, she met his gaze through the slits of her mask. "Do you want to come?"
"Not yet, Pet." She abruptly left him and walked away, her tight ass tormenting him from afar.
What he wouldn't give for a taste.
Candle in hand, she returned, a grin on her gorgeous face as she stood over his chest and tilted it until wax dropped onto the center of his chest.
"Damn it," he called out with the pain.
She smacked his thigh with the crop because he hadn't addressed her properly, even in pain.
He grinned at the lack of mercy and stiffened at the sight of the candle tipping yet again over him. They made eye contact when the wax trickled onto his skin. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip and refrained from saying anything. He couldn't look away from those green eyes, masked face, thick veil of black hair, and delicious breasts on display. He curled his fingers and wished he could touch her. He had never known agony could be so sweet.
She continued the candle torture down his body, before leaning between his legs.
"No, don't," he said as he watched her tip the candle over his balls.
She hesitated, gaze snapping to his, but when he didn't say the safe word they had agreed upon, she tipped the candle.
"Mistress, oh my God." He tried to squirm, but the restraints held him firm.
Her mouth came down on his erection, warm and welcome. Hands pleasured rather than tortured. He moaned as her hot breath teased his cock and her tongue twirled around the shaft. He tensed, knowing he couldn't stop himself from coming. She stood, hand still gripping his penis, and watched his cum shoot across his abdomen.
Shaking from orgasm, breathing labored, he lifted his head at the warm touch of water on his body. Mistress M smiled at him as she gently washed him clean.
She slid down and released his ankles from their shackles before moving to his wrists. She moved first one hand and then the other to his side and handcuffed him to the belt at his waist.
He sank his teeth into his lower lip, gaze locked onto the jiggle of her breasts as she moved around him.
"Follow me." She turned her back on him and walked to the lone bed in the room. She crawled onto it, back to him, and patted the spot next to her.
The flickering light of the fireplace cast erotic golden shadows on her white skin. The laces of her bustier crisscrossed her narrow back. Toned round ass topped long thighs. She looked at him over her shoulder, face hidden by the mask, and eyes in shadow. Unbelievably, she slid her fingers up her hips, reached into the narrow strings of her thong, and pulled them free.
He slid awkwardly from the table, the uncertainty of the moment amplifying his anticipation. Gaze locked on the space between her thighs, he thought of nothing else but her pussy.
He sat on the edge of the bed before wiggling back until his head hit the pillow. Out of breath from the awkwardness of being bound and the numbness of his legs, he watched her straddle his waist.
Without breaking eye contact, she removed first one glove and then another. "I want to touch you with my bare hands. Can I do that?"
"Yes, Mistress." He choked out the words, gaze locked on her hard nipples. Knowing that she wanted him as much as he wanted her made him feel powerful despite their chosen roles for the night.
She slid her hands up his chest as she inched forward until her breast grazed his lips. "Suck me, Pet."
He obeyed, his teeth lightly grazing her nipple before sucking and licking. He moved his head between both breasts, luxuriating in the sensation of their weight on his face and her heat inches away as she gripped the pillows for support.
"Now taste me." She shifted until her pussy rested against his mouth.
He pushed his tongue into the center of her before licking her clit. He couldn't get enough of her as she ground against his face. Nothing else mattered except the need to please her.
He curled his fingers into the mattress at his side and fought against his restraints. The desire to touch, squeeze, hold, and fuck her burned through his veins like a wildfire.
Her body shuddered before moving abruptly away and out of reach. He licked his lips, her taste more intoxicating than any drug he could imagine. Again, his cock begged for satisfaction.
Keep reading Dominating Justice, Book One of the Den Series!