Riding Her Tiger

Evernight Publishing www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2012 Doris O’Connor

ISBN: 978-1-77130-013-1

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs Editor: Karyn White

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION Thank you Jo for the title. Thank you Karyn for making me think and helping this story shine. And huge thanks to Evernight for the submission call that sparked my muse.

RIDING HER TIGER Club Ink, 1 Doris O’Connor Copyright © 2012

Chapter One

"You've enrolled me in what? Are you insane?" Estelle rolled her eyes and clenched her thighs together in a vain effort to stop the rush of hot arousal trickling down her inner thigh. She'd felt deliciously wicked, foregoing underwear today. It had given her a secret thrill to sit in this morning's interminably boring meeting knowing she was bare-assed under her sensible A-line skirt. It was decidedly uncomfortable and embarrassing now. Her mind had wandered during that meeting, imagining she was under orders from her Dom, who would fuck her fast and hard on her desk, when her boss had gone out to lunch. No Dom had appeared, alas. She hadn't figured out a magic spell to conjure the Dom of her dreams out her favorite BDSM novel. No, instead she'd found a Skype message from her best friend Neeve with orders to click on a link. With one flick of her finger, she'd been taken to her newly created profile on a kink dating site. The pictures in the side banner of findurkink.com alone had pitched her arousal sky high. Not to mention the three messages from someone called Ink, each one more explicit than the next. Apparently he'd taken her silence as assent, and she was scheduled for a private, live chat in five minutes. Shit, five minutes! "Neeve! I know you're there. What the fuck have you done?" Estelle typed feverishly, not daring to examine why she didn't just click out of that site. Instead she found herself perusing Ink's on-

line profile, and she gulped. No picture, sadly, but he was an exploration facilitator, whatever the hell that meant. His list of credentials was impressive. Her clit clenched, and her heart rate sped up, reading that fire play and knife play were his specialty. Not that her fantasies went that far, but if he was good at that, then no doubt he was an expert at the rest, too. Oh shit, three minutes! "Neeve, stop messing about. What is this?" A laughing emoticon appeared in the Skype box, followed by a mooning one. "Neeve, really, this isn't funny. What did you do?" Oh she was going to strangle her. Neeve was known for her practical jokes, but this was a step too far, even for her. Her computer pinged, and Estelle jumped as a private chat screen popped up. She stared at the empty speech bubble as though it was a poisonous snake ready to bite her hand off. Skype beeped at her, and she jumped again. Shit, this was ridiculous; she was as jumpy as a cat on a hot tin roof. "Just go with it. I've checked it out. He's the best facilitator they have. I know you want this, and you'd never do it by yourself, so consider it a late birthday present. You need to get fucked, good and proper, and get your silly girl crush on your boss out of your head. Just one thing. Don't piss him off. Word has it, this Ink is … inventive." And just like that Neeve was gone. Estelle wiped her sweaty hands on her skirt and willed her breathing to slow down. Trust Neeve – she never should have confided her deepest, darkest fantasies to her. Estelle still wasn't sure what had made her admit it. Finding out that her boss was finally divorced had shaken her. It meant he was free, and she could do something about her fevered imaginings. In typical Neeve fashion she'd suggested tying Estelle to his desk to get his attention. After all, rumor had it that his ex-wife and he had been into kink big time. Estelle had no experience to speak of in that field. She recalled Neeve's ominous response that night only too well now. "Well, we'll have to do something about that." Her computer pinged again, and Estelle's heart stopped for an instant, before it turned into a jackhammer. He was there, this Ink. Oh good God, am I really doing this? "Punctual, I like it. Have you followed orders?"

Orders, what orders? "I asked you a question. I expect an answer!" "Err, what orders?" Nerves settled in Estelle's stomach like lead as she waited for his reply. Maybe she should have paid more attention to the fine print off the site. Damn Neeve. She could have given me some warning. But even as she thought that, she was honest enough to admit to herself, that she would never have logged on. Why wasn't he replying? Had she blown it before she even started? "Who is this?" The words mocked her, and her fingers shook when she typed her reply. "I'm, well, I'm Estelle, but I didn’t read any orders, sorry." Again the silence was deafening. Well, as deafening as a pc screen could be. "I'm sorry." Why did she feel the need to apologize? This was ridiculous. She wasn't a child. She didn't need his approval. "Actually, no, I'm not sorry. I didn't even know about this, until my friend sent me the link. She signed me up you see. So, if you sent any orders, then, well I didn't see them." She paused, biting her lip nervously. "And I'm not sure I would follow orders, even if I had seen them." There, that wasn't so hard to type. "I see." Again there was an unsettling silence, but come what may, Estelle couldn't just click out. So she waited. "Why would your friend sign you up to this site?" "Well, she…she …" Could she really tell a complete stranger her fantasies? "Yes? Tell me. Whatever you say will stay between the two of us. If you read the rules, you'd know that." Okay, here went nothing. "You have read the rules at least?" "I skimmed them," "Thank you for your honesty, Estelle. That really is the most important rule, followed by confidentiality. So, your friend signed you up because…?" She imagined him sitting there, one eyebrow raised, waiting for her reply. What did he look like, she wondered. Unbidden an

image of her boss swam in front of her mind. Nathan Fielding was six foot four of pure muscle expertly hidden under his tailored business suits. Close cropped hair, warm auburn eyes, strong jaw, full lips and adorable steel rimmed glasses that always ended up at the bottom of his nose and made Estelle's fingers itch to swipe them off him. Not to mention strong, large hands and a deep, gravelly voice to die for. Just thinking about that voice of his had more of her juices flow out of her pussy, and Estelle swore. She would leave a fucking stain on the cloth of her office chair at this rate. How the hell was she going to explain that? "Answer me, Estelle, or I finish this now, and your membership will be revoked immediately." The cursor blinked impatiently at her, yet she couldn't get her fingers to move. "Good bye, Estelle, it was nice speaking to you." No, he couldn't leave, not now. What could she say to get his attention? "I'm not wearing any underwear!" He didn't respond. But he didn't leave either. After a small eternity that blasted cursor moved. "You were going to tell me why your friend signed you up, Estelle." What? She just told him she was going commando, and he didn't react to that at all? Sheesh, she would never understand men. "Now would be a good time to tell you that I do not like waiting. If I ask you a question, I expect an immediate answer. I give you five seconds before I add to your punishment." Shit, that didn't sound good. Estelle's fingers flew over the keyboard. " Fine, have it your way. She signed me up, because I … I." Estelle took a deep fortifying breath. "Because I want to learn how to submit. I think, I mean, I hope that's what I need to… well you know." "To what, Estelle? If you can't type the words to an impersonal computer screen, how do you expect to be able to tell me in person?" "In person?" Her pussy clamped down in fevered anticipation of imagining such a meeting, and she bit back a groan.

"Yes, this is just an introduction. I prefer to meet in person, if I feel the lady warrants it. Are your thighs growing wet with your juices, imagining such a meeting, Estelle? Is your cunt clenching in anticipation? Are you wondering what I will do to you when we meet?" "Yes…." Her fingers typed the words of their own volition. Oh Jesus, she was really doing this, here in the office. The little clock in the corner of her pc screen confirmed that her boss would be back any minute now. Faint voices reached her from the corridor, as the office workers slowly filtered back into the building at the end of the lunch hour. Anyone could walk in and see what she was doing. The site colors weren't exactly subtle. "Good girl. Now touch yourself for me. Spread your legs and sink your fingers into your cunt. Are you doing that, Estelle?" "Yes…" One hand gripped the side of her desk, and the other found her wet folds. She bit back the moan as her body responded instantly. "Good girl, now rub yourself for me, just enough to have you climbing, do you hear? I do not give you permission to come yet." Estelle whimpered her need as her fingers rubbed her clitoris. The fear of discovery heightened her senses, and her pussy spasmed as her body climbed. Sweat broke out on her forehead, and she panted her arousal. The pc screen blurred, and she scooted her ass forward and spread her legs wider. Her movements grew faster and more urgent, as she waited for that blasted cursor to move. "Are you close, Estelle?" "Yeeeessss." Nathan Fielding's deep voice just outside the office door broke through Estelle's climbing pleasure, and she froze. Shit, shit, shit. She just had time to remove her fingers and sit up straight, before he was behind her. She slammed her laptop shut and forced a smile on her face, as he appeared next to her. Puzzled brown eyes sought hers, and she wanted the ground to swallow her up when his nostrils flared and his eyes seemed to zero on her nipples straining against the flimsy fabric of her bra. "Are you quite allright, Estelle? You seem a bit flushed." "I…I'm fine thank you, Sir."

She flinched at the double entendre, and she knew her cheeks were flaming. She hastily crossed her arms over her traitorous nipples and clenched her hands to hide the wet evidence of her arousal. Time stood still, whilst he slowly ran his gaze over her body; and by the time he smiled, Estelle was sure she was going to combust with nervous energy and unfulfilled sexual need. "If you're sure. I wouldn't want you to come down with anything. Have the Johnson files ready in ten minutes and schedule a conference call, would you? "Yes, certainly." Estelle said to his back, and breathed out a sigh of relief. She opened her laptop and swore. The chat room was empty.

Chapter Two The taxi beeped outside, and Estelle took one long last look at herself in the floor length hallway mirror. The outfit had been Ink's choice, his orders explicit. Estelle had a hard time recognizing herself. The clingy sheath dress showed every one of her curves off to perfection. Bright red wasn't normally a color she wore, let alone with lipstick, and finger and toe nails to match, and if she bent over anyone would get a full view of her waxed pussy. Another thing she didn't normally do. Thankfully the whole process hadn't been as mortally embarrassing as she'd imagined it would be. Neeve had dragged her along to her regular beautician, and once the middle aged woman was finished with her, an entirely new version of Estelle had emerged. Now if only she'd feel as confident as she looked. Her newly layered and feathered hair tumbled down to her shoulders, drawing the attention to her bare back. The dress was so low cut, she would be looking at the top of her knickers, had Inkallowed her to wear any. He hadn't, of course. He seemed to have a thing for wanting her bareassed, wet and needy. He'd refused to even talk to her online until she'd removed her underwear. And even though he couldn't see her, she'd followed his orders to the latter. Foregoing underwear completely the last few days and wearing shorter and shorter outfits to work, that had some of her male colleagues literally tripping up over their feet. Estelle's nipples beaded against the silk of her dress, recalling her boss Nathan's silent response to yesterday's outfit. She'd been under strict instructions to wear the shortest skirt possible, topped with a too tight blouse. She hadn't been able to walk properly due to the butt plug Ink had also instructed her to wear for her session, and she had run into Nathan, when she had stumbled out of the ladies. He'd caught her in his arms and just held her for several heartstopping seconds, during which his natural scent had wrapped itself around Estelle's senses, and she hadn't dared look at him. His body heat had burned through her clothes, and Estelle had flushed all over. When he'd carefully set her aside from him his voice had dropped an octave, and Estelle's stomach had dropped right with the growled words, so unlike his usual timbre. "Careful, Estelle."

His hand under her chin had forced her to look at him. His intense gaze had flashed in annoyance and something else – primal, dangerous and incredibly exciting. Estelle had stopped breathing, not daring to move a muscle in response. Whatever he'd read in her eyes, had made him swear, the grip on her chin turning painful. He'd stepped away from her, arms crossed over his chest. "Run along. I wouldn't want you to miss your…lunch." Estelle shivered even now remembering that conversation. She's scooted off as fast as she could without dislodging that blasted butt plug, feeling his stare on her ass the whole time, as though he'd known exactly what she was hiding under the frilly excuse of a skirt. And maybe he had known. If the rumors flying round the office were true, Nathan Fielding was no stranger to the way a woman would look with God only knew what shoved wherever. He'd not been in the office for the rest of the day, and her brains had been so fried by her online session with Ink, that Estelle hadn't missed her boss. As she awkwardly climbed into the waiting taxi, she wondered about his disappearance. She'd had to reschedule several appointments that afternoon, as well as clear up the mess in his office. Piles of shredded paper had been everywhere, as though his shredder had had an epileptic fit. When she'd cautiously investigated it, however, wondering if she needed to call maintenance, it had worked just fine. The deep grooves on his oak desk had been another concern. They'd reminded her of the scratches her cat had inflicted on her leather settee. Not that a cat could have done these marks.Notunless it was some sort of were-cat, and they didn't exist outside of novels, no matter what stories she'd grown up with. That was all they had to be – stories. Her gran had always smiled when she'd called them that, had patted her head and said, "You carry on calling them that, if it helps you sleep better, sweet child." And besides, that would make her boss what? A shifter? She'd giggled, ignoring the shiver of unease traveling down her spine, as her fingers had traced those deep grooves. "We're here, Miss, but pardon me saying, are you sure you want to go in there?" Estelle looked up in surprise, when the taxi driver addressed her. She'd been so lost in thought she hadn't noticed they'd reached her intended destination.

Tucked away in a London side street, the club didn't look like much from the outside. In fact it didn't pronounce what it was at all. There wasn't even a sign, just a large metal door in a wall, with a heavily tattooed mountain of a man casually leaning against it. An army of butterflies invaded her being, not helped by the worried look her taxi driver leveled at her through the rear view mirror. "There's all sorts going in in there, Miss, and pardon me again, but you don't look as though you belong in there." A trickle of annoyance replaced her nerves. She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. If he thought she didn't belong in there dressed like this, what would he have said seeing her in her usual far more conservative get up. She was so fed up with people making assumptions about her. So far the only one who seemed to truly get her had been Ink, and Neeve of course. Providing she survived whatever awaited her in that mysterious club, she would have to properly thank her outrageous friend. "Yes, well, thank you for your concern, but I will be just fine." She forced a smile for the still worried looking taxi driver and handed him her fare. With an outward show of confidence she swung her legs out of the taxi, straightened, precariously teetering on her high heels, and encountered a hard wall of muscle. She bit back her shriek of surprise when strong arms all but lifted her away from the taxi and a deep grumble told the driver to scoot. The screech of burning tires, as the taxi driver put his foot down as though the hounds of hell were after him, brought Estelle's nerves back in full force. The muscled hunk she'd observed leaning against the wall earlier, leant down and sniffed her. What the hell? "What is a pretty little human thing like you doing here?" The animalistic growl should have frightened her, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on Estelle. There was something very sexy about a man growling after all. She peeped up at him and found him observing her through hooded yellow eyes. Sheesh, what was he? The big bad wolf? She had to suppress a giggle. Did that make her Little Red Riding Hood in her itty bitty little red dress? Clearly I've still got Gran's silly stories in my head. She sobered when the mountain of a man continued to simply watch her, seemingly waiting for her to answer. He crossed his arms over his chest, and she automatically dropped her gaze to his heavy boots.

"I'm here to see Ink. We have an appointment." She jumped at the rumble of laughter emanating from the broad chest, shaking in merriment. What was so funny? "I've never heard it called that before, little human. We best get you in there then. He's busy with a demonstration at the moment, but I'm sure we can find you some other entertainment while you're waiting." Estelle swallowed nervously at the wicked grin those words accompanied. His extremely warm hand settled on her bare back, and she had no choice but to follow where he led. The huge doors swung open as if by magic, and she was propelled into the gloomy interior of the club. Greeted by yet another mountain of a man, Estelle stopped dead. The place was huge and completely open plan. Comfortable seating was dotted around, the lighting muted and intimate. One side of the club was completely taken up by a long bar, behind which several scantily clad young women were serving drinks to a handful of customers. The opposite side was taken up by a stage, in front of which everyone seemed to have congregated. Estelle's breathing hitched, and she hugged her arms around herself to hide her nipples’ immediate reaction to what was happening on that stage. Why she bothered she wasn't quite sure; the shadows were so deep near the entrance, she couldn't even see her feet properly. No one would be able to see her body's betraying signs of arousal. As if to put lie to that thought, the men she stood next to both turned and watched her. Their nostrils flared, as though they could smell the juices gathering inside her pussy, and she clamped her thighs together hastily. The men chuckled low in their throats, and Estelle's cheeks flamed. "As you can see Ink is rather busy." The blond beefcake, who must have been the one to open the door for them from the inside, flashed brilliantly white teeth at her. Estelle took a step back until she felt the heat of the other's man's chest burn into her back. Large hands settled on her hips, and she didn't even want to contemplate what hard object poked into her ass right now. She focused her attention on the row of CCTV monitors instead. That explained it. It hadn't been magic at all. One of the screens gave a perfect view of the outside of the club. The others showed various rooms that must be behind the many doors she could see on the sides of the club. One was occupied, and her blush

intensified witnessing the ménage displayed on the screen, before she hastily looked away again. This evening would definitely prove to be an education it seemed. "Sign here, and then I would suggest you grab a drink and wait for Ink at the bar. His demonstration is almost over." The blond man shoved a 'rules of conduct' sheet under her nose, and Estelle scribbled her signature automatically. Ink had e-mailed her the rules only yesterday; the man was nothing if not thorough. Again her gaze strayed to the stage. Knowing it was Ink wielding that menacing looking whip made her insides quiver. Dressed in nothing but low riding leather pants, his back was covered in a fine sheen of perspiration, clearly visible in the spotlights illuminating the stage. His muscles rippled, and his biceps flexed with every stroke he expertly delivered. The crack of the whip as it sailed through the air, before it curled across the bound woman's naked back and ass, made Estelle flinch. The blonde tied spread-eagled to the St Andrew's Cross, however, moaned her arousal. Ink alternated light touches with heavier strokes, building the crescendo, and the woman's groans and pleas, begging for her orgasm could be heard echoing around the club. The action on the stage drowned out the low music completely, and Estelle stumbled her way to the bar, fascinated to see this display of raw power and leashed aggression. There was something familiar about the set of Ink's broad shoulders and the way he held himself, but Estelle couldn't place it. She perched her backside on one of the high barstools, cursing inwardly at the indecently short hem of her dress that made not flashing her bits to the club a bit of a military operation. Though why that bothered her when half of the women and the men, too, seemed to be in various states of nakedness was beyond her. She suppressed a giggle thinking what the good nuns of her school years would make of this place. "What can I get you, doll? New here, aren't you?" Estelle forced her eyes away from admiring Ink's tight butt cheeks and smiled at the brunette behind the bar. Curves in all the right places, she was nonetheless much plumper than was deemed desirable these days. The tight corset cinched in her ample waist until her impressive bosom all but spilled over the top of the cups. Face surprisingly free of make-up, she was a natural beauty, and her open

smile caused Estelle's tight insides to unfurl slowly. She hadn't realized how tightly coiled she'd been until now. "Is it that obvious?" The brunette laughed and winked at her. "Well, let's just say I've seen men on death row more relaxed then you, doll. I'm Cherie, by the way. Which of one these overgrown fleabags dragged you here tonight?" Again Estelle's eyes strayed to the stage, and Cherie whistled under her breath. "The man himself, hey? Well, good luck with taming him." "What do you mean?" Estelle asked, her insides once again churning at the shadow that crossed Cherie's features briefly as she, too, looked towards the stage. "Nothing, doll, don't you worry. He knows what he's doing. Ignore me." Cherie fixed a smile on her face and busied herself with wiping the immaculate bar top. When she did eventually look up, some undefined emotion in her deep brown eyes stopped Estelle from asking any other questions. "So, what will it be, doll?" "A black Russian, please, and my name is Estelle." Cherie smirked, looking behind her and made herself busy fixing the drink. "Someone called for me?" The deep accented voice rumbled through Estelle, and two heavily muscled arms came round her and caged her in against the bar. Eyes the color of coal connected with hers in the mirrors behind the bar, the man's white hair a direct contrast to the ebony hues of his skin. He, too, seemed a walking furnace. He rested his chin on her shoulder and inhaled deeply. "Hmm, so sweet and fresh and unclaimed." Cherie rolled her eyes at Estelle and passed her the drink she ordered. "She asked for a drink, not you. The lady is spoken for, so back off, Grisha." She smiled at Estelle and glared at Grisha. He chuckled again, dropped a kiss against the rapidly beating pulse in Estelle's neck and pulled back just enough to enable Estelle to swing round on her chair. One of his large hands settled on her thigh, just below her cunt, and she swallowed nervously. The sight of his dark hand was such a contrast against her bare flesh. Who'd have thought it would be so erotic? Or maybe this place was just getting to her. On the stage the blonde screamed her orgasm with one last whip

cracking slap delivered across her dripping wet pussy. Even from the distance her juices could be seen trailing down her legs. Grisha's hand tightened on her inner thigh, and Estelle's heart turned into a sledgehammer, when Ink turned around. An intricate tattoo of a tiger's head trailed across his wide chest, over washboard abs and into the waistband of his trousers. The imprint of his long, thick cock strained against the zipper of his trousers, but that wasn't what made Estelle wish the ground would swallow her up. Ink had moved directly into the spotlight, throwing the angles of his face into sharp focus. Nathan Fielding's eyes connected with Estelle's, before his gaze dropped to Grisha's hand on her thigh, and he frowned. With the grace and speed of a huge cat, he jumped off the stage and advanced towards them. Estelle stopped breathing. She had been having online sex with her boss?

Chapter Three Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, nooooo! Estelle didn't dare look up when Ink crossed the distance from stage to bar with just a few long legged strides. The heady musk of man, sweat, and faint traces of an unfamiliar cologne tickled Estelle's senses, and she couldn't help a small sniff of her own when Ink's booted feet stopped in front of her. Grisha had moved to the side, but his hand remained where it was, staking an unspoken claim. "Get your hands off my trainee, Grisha." The deep growl caused her pussy to clench, and a surge of moisture coated the Russian's hand. Estelle screwed her eyes shut, knowing she must have turned the color of her dress. Both men inhaled sharply, and a warm hand under her chin forced Estelle's head up. "She doesn't seem to mind my hand, Ink, quite the opposite." Grisha's voice was thick with arousal and a hint of laughter. Ink muttered something under his breath. He sighed, and his hot breath skittered across her face. "Look at me, Estelle." The quietly delivered words held an edge of steel, and Estelle's eyes fluttered open almost against her will. The submissive, newly awakened, side of her couldn't help but obey the command, and Ink smiled his approval. "Good girl." Grisha finally removed his hand, and she could see him licking his fingers slowly. He grinned and winked at her. "Tasty that one, Ink. When you're ready to share her, let me know." He chuckled at Estelle's sharp intake of breath. She watched him prowl away with mixed feelings, before looking to the floor. If she stared at the ground long enough, then surely, please God, that magic hole would appear. She couldn't shake the notion that it would have been safer for her to keep a hold of Grisha. She was all too aware of Ink's watchful stare on her. Arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow raised, he studied her thoughtfully. She kept her gaze on the floor, as she knew was expected of her, but she couldn't help a sneaky sideways glance at Ink. No, not Ink. Her boss. She bit her lip to stop herself from groaning out loud. He'd lost the glasses he wore to the office. He smelled different, and he seemed

to have somehow grown a few inches, but it was definitely him. Why wasn't he saying something, for pity's sake? The silence stretched between them until she couldn’t help but squirm on her stool. His large hands on her thighs stopped her, and she held her breath as his thumbs massaged the tender flesh on the inside of her thighs. If he moved his hands any higher he would know exactly how aroused she was. He leant in close enough for his breath to raise the tendrils of hair sticking to her damp neck, and she bunched her hands into fists to stop herself from reaching out to him. He hadn't given her permission to touch him, and she didn't fancy the indignity of having her ass spanked in full view of anyone in the club, even if the thought brought with it a fierce wave of arousal. Grisha's laughter echoed across from the other end of the bar, and Estelle glanced across. He raised his glass at her and winked. She dropped her gaze again, but Ink had noticed. He released her thighs and cupped her chin again. "I hadn’t planned on sharing you tonight, but if that's what you need…?"His voice trailed off, and he smiled. "Like jumping in at the deep end, don't you, Estelle?" "I…I not really. I just—" Estelle's words stuttered to a halt. She couldn’t tell him that she'd come to this club to gain the experience to seduce him. In his Ink persona there was something quite frightening about him, the amber eyes holding hers captive, too knowing, and detached, as though he really had seen her for the first time today. Leashed aggression bubbled under the surface, all pretense of the civilized businessman gone. Some deep part of her responded to that aggression that she'd only glimpsed occasionally in the office – the same reckless part of her that had followed Ink's online instructions to the letter. The same part of her that had excitement pooling low in her belly at the mere thought of being at the mercy of two powerful men. "Don't lie to me, Estelle. I can smell your pussy from here. Your nipples are aching to be touched; your heart beat is galloping, and that's not fear in the air, but your excitement." He smirked and held his hand out. She knew he was giving her a choice. It was one of the most sacred rules in this game they played. It was always her choice. If she agreed she was at his mercy and had to obey without question. If she didn't agree he would not press her.

She stared at that outstretched hand for the longest time. Did she dare? Would she be able to look him in the eye, come Monday in the office, or would he think she was a complete hussy? Was this her chance, or was she just blowing it by even being here? She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, and his gaze followed that movement. He shifted from foot to foot, his expression unreadable as he simply waited for her decision. When she finally placed her hand in his, the approval she saw in his eyes soothed her nerves. He glanced behind her, and Grisha's warmth seeped into her naked skin. "Take her to the small dungeon. I'll be right there." "My pleasure." Grisha's smile showed in his voice, and Estelle shivered when he pressed an openmouthed kiss between her shoulder blades. His hands settled on her hips, and Estelle gasped at the press of his hard cock into her ass. "We'll have so much fun together, sweetheart. You'll see." "I'll hold you to that." Estelle flinched at the breathy quality of her voice, and the hands on her hips tightened to the point of pain. "Topping from the bottom will get that delicious ass paddled." He growled the words into her ear, and Estelle stopped breathing when he pulled the skirt of her dress up and delivered a quick slap to one exposed butt cheek. He massaged the sting away, and heat spread up from his hand on her ass, up her back and into her face. "Please, not here. Not in front of everyone." Grisha's amused chuckle wrapped itself round her, and he spun her around in his arms, until she was once again caged against the bar. The edge dug into her back, and she bit back the moan of pain. "Meaning I can turn that ass pink in the dungeon? Do I look as though I need your permission?" "For pity's sake, Grisha, stop torturing the girl. You heard Ink. Take her to the dungeon – that is if you're sure you want to, doll." Cherie's melodious voice came to Estelle's rescue. Grisha stepped back to give her some breathing space and smirked. "You okay, doll?" Cherie asked. "Yes, I think so." She turned round to smile at Cherie, who glared at Grisha, hands on hips.

"You think? Hun, you've got to be sure. Once you step through that dungeon door, you know you have no say in what happens." Estelle glanced back at Grisha and then across at Ink in conversation with another Dom. As though he sensed her gaze on him, he stopped talking and looked at her. His eyes narrowed, and he frowned, some silent communication going on between him and Grisha. He said something to the other Dom, who also looked at her with a question in his eyes. Estelle swallowed past the lump in her throat when Ink advanced toward her. The tiger tat on his chest moved with the ripple of muscle as though it was a real tiger resting on his pectorals, and Estelle's gaze dropped lower to the bulge in his trousers. Her hands grew moist and her breathing shallow, and she wrenched her eyes back up to his face, just as he stopped in front of her. "Is there a problem?" His deep voice held a hint of impatience. Estelle shook her head, not trusting her voice at all. "It seems Cherie here is worried about your little sub." Grisha said, inspecting his fingernails as though he didn't care either way. The heated look he raked over Estelle's body told another story. "I'm merely making sure she's fully aware she knows what she's letting herself in for. She's new, and I bet she's never subbed before. Have you even given her a safe word?" "Are you suggesting Grisha and I would neglect our most basic duties? You forget your station, Cherie." Ink clenched and unclenched his fists, the tension coming off his tightly coiled body in waves. Without thinking about her actions Estelle stepped between him and Cherie. She put a tentative hand on his chest. The heat of his body burned through her skin, and she flinched at Cherie's gasp. Shit! She dropped her hand immediately and took a step back into Grisha. "Not a very wise move, sweetheart," Grisha murmured into her ear. "I know. I'm sorry." Estelle risked a peek at Ink's face. "I'm sorry…Sir." Ink's stern expression softened with her breathy words, and with last lingering look to Cherie, he settled his full attention on Estelle. "Follow me." Estelle did just that, aware of Grisha's quiet presence at her back, as she followed Ink's lead. He crossed the club and stopped briefly in front of one the many doors leading off the interior. He

pressed a number sequence into the keypad by the door, and the heavily padded door swung open. A harsh fluorescent light came on and Ink stepped to the side, gesturing for Estelle to step through. Looking up to him for reassurance did little to help the army of butterflies that seemed to have taken up residence in her tummy again. He simply waited patiently, his expression unreadable, and Estelle realized that he was giving her a last get out. She straightened her shoulders and stepped over the threshold, dimly aware of the two men following. The door whooshed shut, and the lighting dimmed a little. The room was dominated by a huge bed, and Estelle's eyes widened taking in the various restraints, dangling from the ceiling and attached to each corner. A wide array of toys, whips, paddles, and various other equipment that she didn't know the names of was laid out neatly on a sideboard. A padded St Andrew's Cross stood in one corner, a spanking bench in another, and Estelle's clit ached imagining herself strapped to any of these things. She wiped her sweaty palms on the sides of her dress, aware of the rustling of clothes behind her. "Her limits are?" Grisha's accented voice asked. "Hard limits are whips and any danger play. Soft limits are spanking, toys, and anal play." Ink's calm voice soothed some of those insects dancing inside of her, and she leant into the hand massaging her neck. "She's very new to submission. We've been working online. This is her first real life scene." Grisha whistled under his breath and stepped in front of her. "And her safe word is?" "Cubs." She could hear the smile in Ink's voice. Both men chuckled, and Estelle wondered briefly what was so funny. Her stomach churned too much to ponder the men's amusement too much however. Grisha cupped her chin, and some more of her anxiety fled. The expression in his black eyes was almost tender, the hand slowly running a trail along her collarbone gentle. He smiled at her moan when his hand slid lower still, and he rolled one of her stiff nipples between his fingers. She leant into his hand and sighed when his other hand explored her pussy. She instinctively spread her legs wider, and he murmured his approval at the wetness coating his fingers. One long digit slipped inside her vagina, and her knees buckled at the skillful invasion. Ink's hand on her hips held her up, and her head fell back against his chest, his harsh breath in her ear

kicking her arousal up another notch. Grisha inserted another two fingers, and Estelle moaned as his fingers fucked her mercilessly, pushing her closer to that elusive edge. Ink bit into the soft of her ear, and the sweet pain zinged along her nerve endings. "Remember, no coming unless I give you permission. Nod your head if you hear me." Estelle moaned her acquiescence, and both men laughed. The vibrations rumbled through her, and she started panting in earnest when Ink pulled her neckline down, exposing her breasts. He cupped the heavy globes and lifted one to Grisha to taste. With a wicked grin Grisha bent down and bit the rosy peak, flicking her clitoris with his thumb at the same time. Estelle screamed. Her knees buckled, and Grisha withdrew his fingers. "Let's take this to the bed." Ink spun her around in his arms so fast the room swirled, and Estelle shrieked when he picked her up and deposited her on the bed. He spread her legs wide and secured them to the restraints on the corners of the huge bed. Cool air fluttered across her swollen folds, and her only just banked down arousal notched up again. "My turn to feast on that beautiful cunt." Estelle propped herself up on her elbows better to see, until the first swipe of his tongue against her quivering flesh rendered her incapable of doing anything but feeling. His tongue was rough, creating delicious friction, and she climbed the rungs of exquisite torture again, dimly aware of her hands being cuffed together in front of her and lifted into the air. A blindfold was slipped across her eyes, and Estelle gave herself up to sensation. Completely at the mercy of Grisha and Ink, her helplessness stoked the sweet fire burning in her veins. The musky scent of man invaded her senses as an erect cock stroked along her lips. She opened automatically, taking the thick shaft as far as she could without choking, loving the salty taste of what she assumed must be Grisha's cock. Firm hands spread her wider, and a cushion was placed under her hips. "Suck me harder. Milk me, sweetheart." Grisha's command in her ear spurred her on, and she swirled her tongue around his prick. Alternating quick flicks with long sucks, she deep throated him and swallowed down the first tiny spurts of his cum, until he yanked her

hair and pulled out, spilling his hot spunk over her breasts instead with a feral growl. "Fuck yeah, baby." Sharp nails scraped along her sensitive sides, and she whimpered when her dress was ripped from neck to hem. A warm body covered her nakedness, and she gasped into the hot kiss delivered by firm lips. The buzz of a vibrator had her stiffen for an instant before the toy was slid deep into her channel. She bowed off the bed and panted her excitement as the bullet massaged her g-spot, and the pressure built to unbearable levels. Every time she came too close, the vibrations stopped, and she whimpered her frustration into the kiss Grisha gave her. He took the kiss deeper still, his tongue invading her mouth with unrelenting intensity, only withdrawing enough to let her gasp much needed oxygen into her lungs. "Please, please… I need to come." Estelle managed to gasp out the words in between kisses, her body on fire. She moaned when the vibrator was pulled from deep inside her, her pussy walls desperately trying to hold in the toy, but not succeeding. Her eyes flew open behind the blindfold, and she cursed when the cool lube hit her anus. One finger slid in deep, stretching her, and she tensed. A hand stroked her clit; another massaged her breasts, and Ink's deep rumble vibrated against the sensitive skin of her tummy. "Relax, I've got you. Trust us. I'm going to use a butt plug now. If it gets too much use your safe word." Estelle shook her head, tears leaking out from behind her blindfold, as the biggest butt plug she'd ever had was slowly pushed past her tight ring of muscle. "Breathe, and relax. It’s almost in." Grisha's voice this time. The words were mumbled in between butterfly kisses along her neck. Sharp teeth scraped the sensitive skin there, small bites that travelled across her sensitized nerve endings until all sensation concentrated on the tight bundle of nerves between her legs. With one last twist and a sharp sting of pain, the buttplug slid in, and Grisha kissed her again. "Beautiful. You should see yourself. This will make it easier for me to fuck that sweet ass whilst Ink's cock takes your hungry pussy. Even now it's weeping and wanting, waiting for a big cock to fill it. Is that what you want, sub?" The crude words should have appalled her, but the reverence behind them excited Estelle beyond all reason. Her ass deliciously

full, her pussy did feel empty, and she nodded her assent. The rip of foil had her breathe her thanks, and Grisha kissed her before he withdrew. Without the heat of his body on her naked form, she shivered. The bed dipped again, and she was acutely aware of the stillness only broken by their combined heavy breaths. What must she look like laying here spread eagled, her pussy on show, and a huge plug shoved up her ass? The slap to her clit came out of nowhere, and she screamed, even as several more little slaps followed, the sharp pain being replaced with ever increasing spirals of pleasure. When Ink finally slid his huge cock into her tight channel, she felt every scrape against her sensitive flesh, and she couldn't stop the tremors starting. Ink swore, and Estelle lost herself to the demands of her body as waves and waves of intense pleasure consumed her. Ink thrust deep, pounding her into the bed, and Estelle flew at his growled command, dimly aware of him growing bigger still inside her, before he, too, shook violently lodged deep inside her. When Estelle finally came back to her body, it was to feel Ink sliding out of her. Her hands and feet were released and the blindfold lifted. She blinked in the sudden light, and heat stained her cheeks. Grisha kissed her and handed her a bottle of water before he massaged her arms. Ink, too, smiled down at her as he massaged her legs, before covering her in a blanket. "Rest up. You did very well, but that was only lesson one."

Chapter Four Estelle woke up to the deep rumble of two masculine voices and the sounds of furniture scraping along the floor. What on earth were they doing? And did she have the gall to open her eyes and find out? She winced at the unfamiliar soreness in hitherto unused muscles, and the room went still. She screwed her eyes shut when the bed dipped on both sides,and she was cocooned between two hard, male bodies. One hand caressed her ass, and she tensed when she realized that huge plug was still wedged. "Relax, and let me take this out for you now." Ink's deep rumble behind her vibrated along her skin as he kissed the bottom of her spine, whilst slowly pulling the plug out. Another firm mouth caught her wince in a breathtaking kiss, and Estelle forgot about the temporary discomfort. How could she be wanting to be jumped by both of them again? She'd turned into a nympho it seemed. "Good girl." Ink's approval made her feel all kinds of gooey inside, and she sighed when a warm wash cloth was placed against her butt to soothe away the leftover sting. Grisha pressed a kiss to her forehead, and her eyes fluttered open to see him watching her. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, and she tried in vain to pull the sheet up to her breasts. "No need to cover up, sweetheart. We've seen it all. Besides you're damn hot with my cum all dried on your tits." He trailed a knuckle across her breasts, and her nipples puckered instantly. His grin turned wicked at her response, and he scooted closer to her side, his now erect cock nudging her leg. Estelle blushed furiously when she remembered why her breasts felt so sticky and threw an uncertain look at Ink over her shoulder. He was watching the byplay between Grisha and her with an unreadable expression on his harsh features. "She's not ready for round two yet. Grisha, back off." He snarled the words, and Grisha winked at Estelle. He slowly withdrew his hand and smirked. "The great Ink has spoken." "Shut the fuck up, Grisha, or I'll kick your black ass out of here. I'm going to run her a bath. Try and restrain yourself from

mauling her." His amber eyes searched Estelle's face, and she lost herself in the concern she glimpsed, before he mumbled, "I think you would like a bath, right?" She nodded, and her heart beat a bit faster at his smile. He backed away, and she couldn't help the small sigh, as she took in the ripple of muscle and sway of his ass, perfectly showcased in tight denim. He must have changed whilst she was sleeping. "Don’t make the mistake of falling for him, sweetheart. He is just showing a Dom's concern for his sub. It's our job to take care of you after a scene. Ink doesn't do relationships." Grisha's whispered words settled like lead in her heart. "I'm not falling for anyone. I may be new to this, but I know this is just sex for both of you. That's all I want." She hated the wobble in her voice, and she scooted away from Grisha as far as the bed would allow. He swore softly and yanked her back towards him. She tumbled across his chest, and she gasped as her sensitive nipples scraped across the light dusting of hair on his chest. He cupped her face in his large hands and gave her no choice but to look at him. "Now look at me and say that. I wouldn't be a very good Dom if I couldn't read you better then that. Whatever your reasons for being here are, just sex isn't one of them. I don't want you getting your hopes up, sweetheart. You will make one lucky bastard a beautifully sweet sub, but it won’t be Ink or me. You need to understand that. Okay?" His expression softened at her tentative nod, and he rubbed his thumb across her kiss-swollen lips. "Good girl. Now, I do believe our lord and master has run you a bath." "Don’t be jackass, Grisha." Ink's warm hands settled on her hips as the bed dipped behind her, and he lifted her effortlessly away from the other man. He clucked his tongue at her wince of pain. "The bath will soothe those aches, Estelle. I fear we may have been a bit hard on you." His hold on her tightened when she whispered her denial, and in the blink of an eye, she found herself lowered into the biggest bath she'd ever seen. The chrome tub could easily hold three people, and her breathing hitched imagining the possibilities. Ink laughed and shook his head as he lowered her into the fragrant bubbles with infinite gentleness.

"Later, maybe. For now, let me take care of you. Shut your eyes, and just relax." The tone of command was unmistakable, and she complied immediately. The warm, scented water soothed her aches, and she let herself drift for a few precious seconds. There was a rustle of clothes, and then a hair roughened thigh brushed hers. Her eyes flew open as Ink settled himself behind her in the bath, his rock hard erection digging into her ass. "Lean back against me, and relax. Nothing is going to happen, yet." Her stomach tightened at the growled words into her neck, and she watched as he grabbed the huge sponge by the side of the bath and proceeded to run it up and down her arms slowly. He washed every inch of her body with great care. Her breasts grew heavy and her breathing shallow, her nipples jutting out into the humid air of the bathroom, and he smiled into her neck. By the time his hands reached her pussy she was so aroused the slightest scrape of the sponge against her labia sent her tumbling into an orgasm. Ink groaned into her neck, and she froze. Shiiit! He hadn't given her permission to come. "Ah, sweetheart, that was fucking hot, but not very wise." Her eyes flew open at Grisha's husky words, and her mouth went dry. "We'll have to think of a suitable punishment, Ink." The Russian was stark naked, his huge swollen cock jutting up out of its nest of thick, black hair, to his tight abdomen, the tip glistening with drops of precum. She hadn't been able to fully appreciate the sheer size of him before, and she licked her lips. He smiled at her and fisted himself with slow, measured strokes. Her cunt clenched, and her insides tightened, recalling his earlier promise. She was never going to be able take him in her ass. As if Ink had heard her thoughts, his hands spread her ass cheeks, and his fingers probed. She bit her lip at the invasion of two and then three long fingers. "Indeed we will, Grisha." She squirmed as he thrust his fingers in and out of her tight hole. He pinched her clit with his other hand, and Estelle moaned as the pain zinged along her pussy, to join with the sensations spreading from her ass. She whimpered when he released the tight nub of nerves only to repeat the action, again, and again. Her labia swelled and throbbed, and she writhed in the water, dimly aware of Grisha joining them in the bath. He knelt in front of her, and his hands grabbed her hips, holding her still.

"Stop moving, and take your punishment like a good little sub, sweetheart." He smiled when she went still, and Estelle bit her lip to stop herself from moaning. She watched as he leaned forward and took one of her nipples in his mouth. He bit down hard, and tears sprang into Estelle's eyes. He soothed the sting with his tongue and then repeated the action to the other nipple. Ink pinched her clit in time to Grisha's bites, his fingers in her ass pushing deeper and deeper, until Estelle couldn't distinguish between the waves of pain swamping her. Pain that morphed into something else entirely. Unable to keep her eyes open, she let her head fall back onto Ink's shoulder. Her body felt lighter, every nerve-ending on fire, sending pulses of heat through her veins, Ink's murmured encouragements in her ear grounding her in the here and now. Her skin tightened, and her clit throbbed in time with the waves rushing through her. She shuddered when cool air hit her wet flesh, before she encountered smooth leather. Ink pushed her down until her breasts were flattened against the padded bench, and she gasped as her legs and arms were fastened. Before she could panic at being restrained to the spanking bench, Grisha's face was in front of her. "Focus, sweetheart, on me. Breathe with me, and count the strokes." He looked behind her, and Ink's warm hands massaged her butt cheeks. "She really has a fantastic ass, Grisha. She'll look hot as sin when it's nice and pink from our hands." Ink's voice send tingles of awareness through her, and her panic subsided. His hand dipped lower and spread her pussy lips. He bit her ass, and she squirmed when his fingers sank deep into her already weeping channel. He curled them into a figure of eight, and Estelle panted her excitement as her sensitized tissues responded instantly. She closed her eyes against the knowing smirk on Grisha's face. "How is she doing, Ink? Though I bet she's wet for us." Estelle screwed her eyes shut tighter at Ink's chuckled confirmation. "Now remember, Estelle, no coming until I give you permission, or you'll be strapped to this thing for a very long time indeed." Ink's voice had lost its amusement, and Estelle breathed her confirmation.

"Good girl, sweetheart, you can do it." Grisha brushed a kiss across her lips. "Now count." The first slap took her by surprise, and she screeched. "Count, Estelle." Ink's voice brooked no argument. "O…one." She bit back tears and barely caught her breath before the next slap came. "Two." Slap. "Three…" Grisha's hands massaged her shoulders. He murmured Russian words she didn't understand, the warmth of his hands chasing away the goose bumps spreading over her body. Her butt on fire, the strange floating sensations returned. Her pussy clenched with each slap of Ink's hand across her ass until all of her senses heightened. Every trickle of her arousal down her legs left a wave of fire in its wake, sensations too intense to name consuming her. Her body climbed, tensing, clenching, clamoringfor the tension within to burst to freedom. With one last slap hard enough to send her body forward along the bench as far as the restraints would allow, Estelle breathed,"Fifteen." "Good girl, you did so well." She hardly heard Grisha over the rushing in her ears, her heart beating so loudly, she felt sick. She winced at the coolness placed over her burning ass, and when her restraints were removed she collapsed into Ink's arms. Cocooned in the warmth of his body she slowly came down each torturous rung of intense wave consuming her flesh, his steady heart beat under her ear grounding her. Another set of hands massaged the small of her back. When she finally stopped shaking, and the room came back into focus, she realized they were back on the bed. Sat across Ink's lap, she leant against Grisha's chest, both men's arms holding her up, their warmth suffusing her being. Ink cupped her face in his hands and smiled at her, searching her expression. "How are you feeling now, my sweet sub?" His amber eyes glowed with approval, and Estelle's heart skipped a beat as his words registered. "Am I?" The fine lines round his eyes crinkled in amusement, and he nodded. "You've done much better than I thought you would. Grisha and I pushed you hard, perhaps too hard." His eyes turned thoughtful, and her breath hitched as he ran his knuckles lightly along her collar

bone and across her nipples. The merest whisper of a touch, yet the oversensitive tips hardened immediately, and she couldn’t help her small groan. His smile deepened, and he used just one fingernail to circle each areola in turn, down the deep cleft between her breasts, which grew heavy with need, over her ribcage, and the quivering muscles of her abdomen, until he skimmed her vulva. A gush of moisture coated his leg underneath her cunt, and Grisha groaned. His hard cock jutted against the small of her back, and his hands dug into her hips, lifting her as Ink turned under her until she straddled him. Excitement pulsed through her anew as Ink's erection grew solid underneath her, and they both groaned as the tip of his cock slid into her wet entrance. She dropped her gaze to the Tiger on his chest, and she raised her hand to trace the outline, before she hastily withdrew her hand. Ink chuckled deep in his throat, and she lost herself in his lust filled gaze. "Good girl, but you may touch me." Ink's husky voice raised the ends of her fringe and left tendrils of awareness in its wake. Grisha retreated, and Ink's hands replaced his on her hips. He pushed her slightly backwards. She moaned the loss of his cock underneath her and placed both her hands on his broad chest. Indulging herself for the few moments it took until Grisha threw lube and condoms on the bed next to them, she traced the outline of that tiger, over Ink's pecs and the ridges of his rock-hard abdominals, down towards the trail of hair leading to his thick cock. His prick surged upwards into her hand, and Ink lost some of his iron control. His hands on her hips tightened to the point of pain, and the deep rumble coming from his chest almost reminded her of her cat's purr of content. She giggled at the mental image, and Ink frowned. A sharp swat to her still sore back side from Grisha had her sobering, before the heat from her tender flesh traveled straight to her clit, and she moaned. The rib of foil behind her, followed by the coolness of lube against her ass crack made her tense, until Ink leant down and caught her mouth in a bruising kiss. He branded her with a breathtaking intensity that had her cling to him for support when Grisha's fingers explored her anus, stretching and preparing her for what she knew was coming. Ink held her still, whilst Grisha spread her cheeks and ran his sheathed cock along her pussy and up to her nether hole. She flinched when the thick head of his cock breached the tight muscles, and Ink deepened the kiss. Nipping her bottom lip

with his teeth, his hands abandoned her hips, and Grisha's took over. Ink's hands massaged her breasts, teasing the tight buds of her nipples until she panted her excitement into his mouth. Only then did Grisha push into her depth with one firm stroke until his heavy balls hit her pussy. "Fuck, yeah. Jesus, she's tight, Ink." Grisha gasped the words into her neck and tightened his hold on her hips. He held himself perfectly still inside her, nibbling the sensitive spot under her ear, and she relaxed into the incredible fullness in her ass. Ink broke the kiss and handed her a condom with one hand. With the other he stroked feather light circles around her swollen clit, causing Estelle's fingers to shake with the effort it took to sheathe his thick shaft as her body prepared her for his invasion. Ink took over with an animalistic growl, his now yellow eyes scorching her with their intensity. "Grip my shoulders, and hold on for a wild ride. I don't think either one of us can do this slow." "I don't want slow." Estelle surprised herself with her panted reply. "Just fuck me, please, Sir." Something feral and dangerous flashed across Ink's face, and Grisha cursed as Ink drove into her pussy hole. Her muscles closed around him; tears sprang into her eyes, and she screamed. He pulled out only to drive himself deeper. When he pushed in,Grisha retreated. The two men worked in perfect sync. Every move of those thick cocks inside her sent Estelle's body spiraling out of control. Faster, harder, deeper, she met the men's thrusts with her own, caught between the two bodies, lost in the myriad of sensations assaulting her. Higher and higher she climbed, every stroke inside her sending her alight, every cell in her body quivering with anticipation, their movements growing more and more frantic, until Grisha released inside her ass with a deep growl. Ink stilled, the veins in his neck bulging with the effort, his jaw clenched, his eyes glowing in their focused intensity on her. "Fly, my sweet little sub, now." Grisha flicked her clit, and Ink rammed into her so hard her breasts shook violently, and his cock ground against her cervix. The zing of pain sent her tumbling over the edge, dimly aware of Ink's grunted release and a flash of sharp teeth. Teeth that grazed her mouth as he pulled her down for an earth-

shattering kiss, muffling her scream of release as her orgasm exploded from deep within her.

Chapter Five "Oh for fuck's sake!" Estelle cursed as the coffee spilled all over the paperwork she'd spent the best part of the day compiling. She threw the remaining dregs against the wall and swore some more. Sam, the mail man, stuck his head in the door of her office and promptly retreated behind the door, like a tortoise into its shell. Shit! She was scaring perfectly amenable elderly men now. It just wasn't fair! Estelle glared at her laptop and snapped the lid shut with much more force than necessary. If only she could slam the damn thing against the wall and erase all memories of Ink and the club and that most fantastic night of mind blowing sex and self-discovery as easily as Ink had wiped her online account and cut off all contact. When she'd woken up deliciously sore in the club the next morning, she had been on her own. Cherie had appeared out of nowhere, with a change of clothes, a cup of coffee, and an anxious smile, refusing to answer any of her questions. She'd ordered her a taxi and sent Estelle home, seemingly on orders from Ink, who was nowhere to be seen. Grisha had at least shown his face briefly, smiled that seductive smile of his, and once he'd been reassured that Estelle was indeed okay, he'd kissed her briefly, paid the driver, and told Estelle to come back only once she knew all her facts. There had been something almost like regret flit over his dark features before he'd hit the roof of the taxi, and the driver had spirited her away. What facts exactly, Estelle could only imagine. Unless he'd meant her good for nothing boss. Estelle had spent Sunday in a state of fevered anticipation of seeing Ink in the office come Monday morning, wondering how on earth this was going to change their relationship and even if it would. She was all too aware of Grisha's words bouncing around in her consciousness. "Ink doesn't do relationships." Maybe his ex-wife had hurt him too badly and he'd sworn off relationships, but surely he would see that Estelle was different. They needed to talk; that was for sure. Of course when she'd turned up in the office, he hadn't been there – or the next day or the day after that. He had no business trips planned, so she could only assume he was avoiding her specifically. As the days wore on Estelle's confusion and hurt were replaced by anger, especially when she realized he'd cut her

online access to him as well. More than once she'd been on the verge of driving to the club and demanding answers. It was only the fact that she valued her job that had stopped her. She wanted to keep her job, damn it; she was good at it, and things would be awkward enough when he did eventually turn up. She ground her teeth and swiped the coffee-stained paperwork off her desk in one fell swoop. It was grimly satisfying to see the sheets of paper flutter through the air like overgrown snowflakes, and she squelched the sudden impulse to stomp them into the carpet with her heels. Instead she swore again and spun her office chair round, only to freeze on the spot. "Is there a reason why you're destroying office property, Estelle?" Nathan Fielding's voice could have cut glass, and Estelle swallowed nervously. Even in the club his voice had never been that icy. Dressed in an immaculately cut slate grey business suit, spectacles back on his nose, Nathan was an unmoving statue of leashed anger. The air almost shimmered around him. His amber eyes seemed to glow, pupils narrowed into cat-like slits, as they raked her body up and down, and his nostrils flared. He growled low in his throat. Estelle suppressed an involuntary shudder as the sound wrapped itself around her senses, and her traitorous body reacted instantly to the sound and smell of him. He smelled different from the club, and somehow the difference, subtle as it was, had her insides tighten with need. She grabbed the sides of her chair to stop herself from reaching out to him, even though every cell of her being screamed at her to do so. God, she was doomed. She clenched her thighs together in a vain effort to hide the evidence of her instant arousal, and Nathan swore. He turned his back on her and stalked to his office with a muttered, "Clear that mess up." The pictures on the walls rattled with the force with which he slammed his door shut, and the blinds separating the glass walls between them clanged down with a resounding thud. Estelle shut her mouth with a distinctive pop. Who the fuck did he think he was? Without stopping to examine the wisdom of her actions, Estelle followed him and wrenched the door open. Her heart gave a painful thud in her chest, before it turned into a jack hammer. He'd shrugged out his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing muscular forearms. A new wave of his scent hit her as he

raised his hand to pull his tie over his head, and his eyes locked with hers. "Have you come to wreck my office, too, Estelle, or is there something you want from me that you haven't already had elsewhere?" He ground the words out through clenched teeth, and Estelle took a step back at the murderous expression on his face. He closed the distance between them, his amber eyes changing to a golden glow with every step he took for two of her retreating ones, until he had her caged against the wall. His large hands settled either side of her face; his muscular thighs branded her legs, and she closed her eyes against his overpowering presence. His warm, coffee laced breath whispered across her face, and she heard him inhale again. The growl that followed trembled through her, and she opened her eyes on his whispered exhale of, "Why?" "Why what?" She forced the words past her parched throat, and their eyes locked. She straightened her knees and pulled her shoulders back, which brought her breasts in direct contact with his chest, and they both groaned. Her nipples beaded, and her breasts grew heavy, her breathing shallow. Heaven help her, she was seeing things. His eyes narrowed, his scent intensified, and when he groaned again, she could have sworn she saw fangs in his mouth. What the fuck was wrong with her? Did the inability to draw deep breaths into her lungs give you hallucinations? Was she about to pass out? Somehow she managed to put a shaky hand on his chest, and he leant back slightly, giving her some much needed breathing space. "I could ask you the same question." She only managed a whispered imitation of her normal voice. His eyes widened, and he grew so still, she couldn't be sure he was still breathing. The air thickened between them, and Estelle forced herself to continue. "I mean, it was fun and all—" Her voice faltered to stop as he growled in response. Oh good God, he has fangs, honest to goodness fangs. He's one of them. He pushed away from her and prowled the confines of his office like a caged tiger. She flinched at the sound of claws slicing through the wood when he steadied himself against his desk, every muscle in his big body coiled for action. Estelle nervously calculated the distance between her and the door and instantly dismissed the idea. She would have to get past him first, and if he was what she was rapidly suspecting him to be, then

his lightning fast reflexes would stop her long before she could reach for the handle. Her head hurt as the puzzle pieces clanged together in her brain. The stories weren't stories at all. She should have realized it sooner. She pushed away from the wall, and Nathan's head swung round. The eyes of his beast were looking at her, and Estelle swallowed against the lump in her throat and wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt. "Wha…" She cleared her throat and tried again. The ghost of a smile kicked up the corners of Nathan's mouth, as she took a deep breath and continued. "What are you? I mean who do you shift into? You do shift at will, right?"Please don’t let him be ruled by the moon, like some sort of monster. Damn it, Gran, why are you always right? Surprise registered briefly on his face, and some of the awful tension left his big shoulders. His claws retracted; his eyes bled back to amber, and Estelle breathed an audible sigh of relief. "As you've been fucked any which way by Ink and Grisha I'm sure you know the answer to that, Estelle. And yes, I'm a shifter. Stop looking as though I'm going to eat you." Heat stained her cheeks at the crude words, even as an image of Ink's tiger swam in front of her. Grisha, too, had a tiger's paw on his ass; she remembered now. The room spun as the truth dawned on her, and warm hands grabbed her arms to steady her. "Breathe, dammit. Surely it's not that much of a surprise to you. Even ice-cold Ink must have half shifted at one point during your fuck fest. Lord knows your scent has tortured me from the day you started working here." He let her go and took a step back. "What? What are you on about? Are you that much into the scene that you're convincing yourself you're a different person in the club?" She flinched at his furious growl in response, but the words tumbled out anyhow. "I get it. You don't do relationships. You've had your bit of fun, and that's it. Well, don't worry. I have no intention for anyone to find out that I let the boss tie me up and fuck me until I couldn't see straight, and as for you being a shifter, who the fuck would believe me anyway." She furiously blinked back the rising tears. No way was she going to cry in front of him. No fucking way. She had to get out of here before she completely went to pieces and humiliated herself even

more than she had already. He couldn't make it any clearer that this had just been sex. It was her own stupid fault for ever thinking it could possibly mean more. She tried to stumble past him, but his arm round her waist stopped her progress. He pulled her into his long frame and against her better judgment she couldn't help but lean into his warmth. Familiar, yet different, the hard contours of his body fit into her curves as though they were made for each other. The thought made her tremble against him, and his hold on her tightened. "I should paddle your sweet ass for speaking to me like that, Estelle." His deep baritone rumbled through her, and her pussy clenched instantly as she remembered her time on the spanking bench. His grip grew painful as he sniffed the air, and he swore again. "Jesus, woman, do you have any idea what knowing that turns you on does to me?" He ground his erection into her ass, and Estelle's breaths grew shallower still. She bit back a moan, and her head fell back on his shoulder. His stubble scraped along her sensitive flesh, and she half turned in his arms and stood on tiptoes to press a kiss to his full lips. He groaned and deepened the kiss, his tongue invading her mouth, branding her with a breathtaking possessiveness that ramped her own arousal up another notch. His hands strayed to her ass, and she wrapped a leg around his waist, shamelessly grinding her wet pussy against the huge bulge in his trousers. She whimpered her need into his mouth when he picked her up and sat her on his desk, sending the files and lamp clattering to the floor. "Lean back, hold onto the desk, and don't move." Estelle complied immediately, and his eyes flashed in triumph at her whispered," Yes, Sir." One hand behind her neck, he kissed her again, whilst the other, ripped her thong off her with one clawed hand. Estelle shivered at the feel of those claws against her inner thigh, and she bit her lip when he scraped across her clitoris with a feather light touch. A surge of moisture coated his fingers, and she held her breath when he brought the digits up to his mouth and licked them clean. "I love the way you taste, so wet for me. Tell me, were you this wet for my brother?" An ice cold vise settled on Estelle's chest, and stars swam in front of her eyes. She scrambled off the desk as best she could, not

daring to look at him. No, no, no, no. She couldn't have heard him right? "What?" He winced at her high-pitched wail of a question and took a step away from her, even as she rounded on him fists raised, ready to pummel him. "Stop playing games with me. It was you in the club. I know it was you. Damn it, don't just stand there. Tell me the truth, please. Tell me it was you. Please…" Her voice broke, and the tears fell unheeded as he stood watching her. He shook his head and reached for her, but she drew away. "Don't touch me. I don't know what sick game you're playing, but it stops now. It had to be you. I never would have—" She stopped herself just in time by stuffing a fist in her mouth. Oh God, what must he think of her? "Estelle, calm down. You're hyperventilating. Sit down." A chair hit the back of her legs, and she sat down heavily, his hands on her shoulders giving her no choice but to do so. She couldn't look at him; she just couldn't, even as he moved his hand and cupped her chin, forcing her to look up. "I have a twin brother, Estelle. He owns the club, and he calls himself Ink. Are you telling me you thought he was me? Answer me, sweet. I need to know the truth." He growled his annoyance when she shook her head and screwed her eyes shut. "Fuck it, Estelle, tell me. If he made you believe he was me I'll go and tear the bastard limb from limb." "No, he didn't." Her whispered denial stopped the growling of his beast, and he stilled. The very air seemed to stand still as he waited for her to carry on speaking. "Tell me what happened." The tone of command brooked no argument, and her submissive side scrambled to respond instantly, even as the rational side of her brain screamed at her to just get the fuck away from him and this whole surreal situation. "I just assumed it was you, and it made it easier…I wouldn't have…I mean…please don't make me say it." He sighed, and she did risk a glance at his face. Her heart flipped over at the intense way he was studying her. Lust warred with determination and some other deep felt emotion in the swirling mists

of his eyes that changed to his tiger's as she watched him. His beast's low purr vibrated through her, and she held her breath at the struggle she sensed in him. When he finally spoke his voice was deathly calm, every carefully enunciated word travelled along her nerve endings and sent darts of anticipation over her skin, until all sensations settled deep in her core. "Why did you go to the club? I know you talked online. I was mad as fuck when I found out." "You were?" He smiled a toothy grim-faced response, and Estelle wondered at the flash of emotion crossing his ragged features. He ran one clawed finger along her collar bone, and he shook his head at her indrawn breath in response. "Yes, I was. Because I wanted you from the first minute my tiger scented you across the office. But you're such a young thing, and I was married." He laughed, and a chill went down Estelle's spine. "By the time I finally got the bitch I was married to, to agree to a divorce, I knew I could never have you. My tastes aren't for the likes of you. At least that's what I thought." His golden eyes focused on her, and Estelle lost herself in the emotion blazing in them. "So imagine my surprise when I find out that you've joined Ink's website. And not only that, but that you were following his instructions so precisely." He smiled again as heat rose into her cheeks, remembering that day in the hallway. He had known she was wearing a butt plug then. "And before you ask, I didn’t hack into your computer, but I'm a Dom. I recognize another Dom training a sub when I see it. It damn well nearly killed me that it wasn't me doing the training." Hope unfurled in Estelle's chest like the delicate petals of a flower raising its head to the first rays of the morning sun. Surely that meant he had to care for her a little, didn't it? "So, you see, I really need to know why you went to that club. And why you stayed when you thought Ink was me? I'd have expected you to run away screaming. In fact I was counting on it. I was outside the club. I saw you going in, and I waited. When you stayed I figured you made your choice, and I—" He shook his head again and stalked away, the dejected slump of his shoulders pulling at her heart strings. "I figured you made your choice, and I was too late.

And then today, when I couldn't stay away anymore, to smell my brother and that damn Siberian Tiger still all over you…" The growl that followed was the most tiger-like she'd ever heard, and Estelle was half expecting him to shift there and then. He would be damn beautiful as his tiger self, Estelle was sure, and she couldn't suppress a grin. Tigers had always been her favorite animal after all. "What's so damn amusing, Estelle?" She jumped at the affronted tones, and she couldn't help the giggle escaping. He looked like a little boy whose favorite toy had been snatched away from him. "I was just thinking how ironic it is that I have a collection of stuffed toy tigers sitting on my bed. Guess I've always slept with tigers." His eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms, even as his own lips twitched at what he read in her face. "Tigers as in plural? That your kink now? ‘Cause I have to tell you, that's Ink's thing, not mine. I had a belly full of that with the ex, and I'm getting too old for that shit. I want a mate, Estelle, not a play thing. So if that's what gets you off then I suggest you slink back to my twin." Dread flooded Estelle at the snarled words, and she scrambled to her feet. "No, that's not what I mean. I mean… I—" She bit her lip and withdrew her outstretched hand before she could touch him. "Then what do you mean?" "I mean, I only went along with it because I thought you wanted me to. I mean not you– Ink, but I thought it was you, and oh shit. Look, I heard the rumors about you, and I knew you wouldn’t want me all straight-laced and prim and proper, and then I got drunk one night, and I told my best friend, and Neeve, being Neeve, signed me up to that website. I thought If I learned how to be a sub, then maybe you would be interested in me, and then at the club…I thought it was you, and Grisha… well, he's very…err. I've just fucked it all up, haven't I? You hate me now, and—" The kiss came out of nowhere, hard, bruising, possessive. Nathan's mouth devoured hers, and she whimpered her need into the kiss, as her heart soared at the words he mumbled when they came up for air.

"I could never hate you, you silly little thing."

Chapter Six Heart pounding in her chest Estelle rounded the corner. A quick glance at her phone confirmed that Nathan had found the note she'd pinned to her front door. It had simply said: Gone to the club. You need to sort this. His text was just as direct: What the fuck? She had given herself a head start, just enough that he would be right behind her. She was in perfectly respectable jeans and a tank top, and she doubted any of the shifters who frequented Club Ink would dare make a move on the intended mate of the co–owner, but she wasn't taking any chances. She might be topping from the bottom right now, and she had no doubt earned herself one heck of a spanking session – she grinned at the thought – but she didn't really want to get herself into more trouble than she was already in. The wolf shifter guarding the door pushed away from his slouching position and raised his head in the air to get her scent. An almost imperceptible move, but one Estelle had seen enough times over the last two weeks to recognize. After their talk in the office, Nathan had decreed that they needed to get to “know” each other. As a result, he'd wined and dined her, and they'd spent the last weekend at his parents’ place. She smiled remembering the enthusiastic welcome she'd received from Nathan's mother and his two sisters. His father had been more reserved, watching the interaction between his son and the “young girl” he'd brought home out of hooded eyes so like his son's it had been rather unnerving. As had been the conversation she'd had with Mr. Fielding when she couldn't sleep the first night she'd been there. She'd stood wrapped in the woolen blanket she'd found on her bed, staring out into dark night sky when a rustling sound to her right had alerted her to the fact that she wasn't alone anymore. A beautiful golden tiger had padded out of the overgrown bushes bordering into the forest, and in the blink of an eye he had morphed into Nathan's father. Max Fielding had advanced towards her completely unabashed in his nakedness, whereas Estelle hadn't known where to look. "Couldn't sleep?" She'd shaken her head and continued to stare resolutely at the decking under her bare feet, causing Max to chuckle. He'd moved away briefly, and there had been a rustle of clothing; and when she'd

dared look across, she'd thankfully seen jeans clad legs. She'd breathed a rather audible sigh of relief, and Max had flashed a toothy grin at her when she'd raised her eyes to his face. "I forget how squeamish humans get about nakedness. Forgive me." "It's not that I'm squeamish, it's just…" She'd shrugged her shoulders and smiled up at Max. "You're his dad. It's just a bit weird." "Not any weirder than my son's more unusual past times. I'm assuming you don't find those weird." He'd smiled at her hasty shake of her head, and she'd known her cheeks had been hot enough to be used for lanterns. "I'd hoped he may have tempered his involvement after it all went pear shaped with Erica, but it seems not. Jordan tells me he's still as much in the lifestyle as he ever was." "Jordan?" she'd asked. "Forgive an old man. I cannot bring myself to call him Ink. He will always be Jordan to me. And I wish Nathan and he would bury the hatchet. It's not natural for twins to stay apart as much as my sons have. But then if you share a woman that's what happens. In the end Erica proved herself to be worthy of neither one of my sons,but by then the damage was done." She'd gasped at that revelation. No wonder Nathan clammed up every time she'd asked about his ex-wife. And she'd only gone and slept with Ink, too. Max had studied her thoughtfully, and Estelle had tried her hardest not to squirm under his steady regard. When he'd finally spoken again, she'd wanted the ground to swallow her up. "You have a very expressive face, my dear. When I mentioned Jordan's name your face dropped, and your heart rate increased. Please tell me Nathan is not sharing you." "I most certainly am not, father. And I do not appreciate you interrogating my mate." Hearing Nathan's deep rumble behind her before his arms round her waist had drawn her into his body in a protective embrace had been the sweetest sound ever. "I'm glad to hear it, but don’t raise your voice to me, young cub. Not on my land. Not when your mate is a human you have yet to claim and young enough to be your daughter." The arms holding her had tightened, and you could have cut the tension between father and son with a knife. Estelle had stamped

her foot in frustration and growled her annoyance causing both men's tigers to growl in response. She rolled her eyes even now. She was sick and tired of hearing how young she was. She was twenty five for pity's sake, not some easily impressed school girl, and Nathan might be in his forties, but that didn't matter to her one iota. When she'd said as much to Nathan's father, he'd simply smiled, patted her hand and left them alone. Nathan had claimed her mouth in a passionate kiss, completely scrambling her brains. Unfortunately that was all he'd done, and she was sick and tired of “getting to know” him. What she needed was a “good old seeing to”, and she couldn't think of a better way to get his iron control to slip, and to sort out the issues he had with his twin, than to go to the club. By the time they'd left his parents’ place, Max had thawed towards her, and whilst she had not been able to hear the muttered words of goodbye uttered between father and son, Mrs. Fielding's tear-stained smile and the look both men had directed towards her had spoken volumes. Nathan had been quiet on the drive home, and she'd been content to sit and study his profile. The laughter lines around his eyes and the slight graying around his temples were the only indication of his age, and she'd sighed to herself, causing his tiger to rumble and Nathan to throw her a questioning look. "It's nothing. I'm just wondering what a girl has to do to get a tiger to fuck her around these parts." He'd ignored her, but the white knuckled grip on the steering wheel and the way he'd squirmed in his seat had given him away, and she'd hummed to herself. He dropped her home with the barest peck on the cheek and had hightailed it away from her, as though he didn't trust himself to be on his own with her. That damn tiger had way too much self-control for her liking. So, today she decided to take matters into her own hands, which meant now she found herself staring into amused wolf eyes. "Tell them to let me in. I have to speak to Ink, and I haven't got much time before Nathan shows up." The shifter sobered, looking over her shoulder. "I think your time just ran out, little human." Nathan's familiar scent engulfed her at the same time as the door opened, and a scowling Ink stood on the doorstep. Estelle winced at Nathan's claws sliced through her top in his haste to draw her behind him, and Ink's tiger growled.

"I suggest we take this inside, Nathan, if you insist on mauling your sub. Estelle is not into public exhibition, or have you added that to your repertoire now as well?" Estelle bristled inside at the scathing tones, but something in his expression made her bite her tongue. He was goading his brother, and Estelle bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. She should have known Ink would read the situation in one millisecond. She had always been an open book to him, from that very first online conversation, and with that cunning insight he had, he knew exactly what she was hoping to achieve. His smile deepened at Nathan's tiger's snarl, and he stepped back to let them both pass. "My brother is slacking, allowing you to dress like that. If you were mine I would keep you naked." He laughed and dodged the punch at his face easily. Hampered as Nathan was by still holding onto Estelle, as though he was afraid she was going to take off on him, his punch lacked the oomph required, and Nathan swore. "Let's take this to my office and away from prying eyes. Grisha here will look after Estelle for you. She's rather fond of him, I seem to recall," Ink said. Sure enough Grisha's smiling face appeared round the corner. The tall Russian propped one shoulder against the wall and, hands in pockets, winked at Estelle to all intents and purposes as though the air wasn't thick with testosterone and the barely controlled growls of furious tigers. Estelle turned herself as much as she could with the death grip Nathan still had on her and slanted a kiss against his clenched jaw. His furious tiger's eyes connected with hers. They bled back to amber, and his expression softened at her whispered words,"Speak to your brother, please, for me, Sir." His grip on her loosened, and he rested his head against hers briefly before he growled into her ear. "You will pay for this, Estelle." He glared at Grisha. "If you lay as much as a finger on her, I'll kill you with my bare hands." Grisha grinned, nodded at Nathan, and motioned for Estelle to follow him. She did so, all too aware of Nathan's gaze boring a hole into her back. By the time they reached the bar and a worried looking Cherie, she all but collapsed onto the barstool.

"Make her a house special. She's going to need it." Grisha's deep voice washed over Estelle, soothing some of her anxiety. Across the club, Nathan and Ink disappeared behind a door markedPrivate,and Estelle downed in one long swallow the drink Cherie placed in front of her. Fire burned down her throat, and her stomach clenched; but that awful feeling of impending doom dissipated. She looked up to Grisha for reassurance and found him watching her with a small smile. "Tell me I've done the right thing, forcing him to come after me?" Grisha nodded. "You've done the right thing. They need to sort themselves out. Ink and Nathan were once as thick as thieves. I know Ink hasn't been the same since they fell out over the piece of cunt Nathan married." He smiled grimly at Estelle's involuntary flinch. "When I heard he'd claimed you, I was hoping you would force his hand. It's not good for business to have the two of them at each other's throats. Mind you." He chuckled to himself, and his smile turned wicked. "I don’t rate your chances of being able to sit down well once this is all over." Estelle had to agree, even as her pussy clenched and her heart rate sped up at the thought of Nathan's hands on her body. Three hours later, Estelle indeed had trouble sitting down. Her blinking ass was going numb having sat on the chair for all that time, anxiously watching that door. Not only that, she'd felt like she was some sort of exhibit at the zoo. She'd swapped the cocktails for coffee in an effort to keep a clear head, and as a result of all that caffeine she was buzzing inside. The club had filled with people as the evening wore on, and watching the various demonstrations had her lacy thong soaked through. She was pretty sure her juices had to have spilled on the crotch of her jeans, and she was grateful beyond belief for the dim lighting. Grisha had left her safely in the more than capable hands of one of the wolves who acted as security for the club, and she was completely engrossed in watching Grisha’sfire play demonstration on stage. Flames danced and flowed over the body of the restrained sub, who had entered deep sub space. A hush had fallen over the club as people gathered to watch, and Estelle smiled at Grisha's care and

consideration over the woman's safety. Whoever he would eventually settle with was one lucky submissive. A warm hand massaged her shoulder, and she leant back into Nathan's familiar scent with a small sigh. "You're not ready for that yet, Estelle." Nathan's voice held that edge of steel that told Estelle he was in full Dom mode, and her whole being relaxed. Finally. She sighed her content and snuggled into Nathan's neck. "Want to use one of the dungeons, Nathan?" Ink's amused voice shook her out of her happy state. "No, I'm taking her home." Nathan's growled response rumbled against her back, and she giggled, earning herself a sharp little bite to her ear. "Don't blame you." Ink slapped his brother on the back, and without a backward glance strolled towards the stage where Grisha was untying the sub. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in, my sweet little sub?" Nathan spun her around whilst he spoke, crowding her against the bar, and Estelle's excitement grew. Her nipples chafed against the confines of her bra, and she licked her dry lips. His pupils turned into slits, and his tiger growled. Estelle held her breath when he ran his fangs along her rapidly beating pulse in her neck. "Move that cute ass of yours out of here now. And don’t say a word, or so help me, I'll take Ink up on his offer. I don't want our first time to take place here, where anyone could interrupt us, but if you give me sass, lady…" He ran one clawed finger along her nipples, and Estelle groaned at the delicious sensation. Her stomach tightened, and her breathing grew shallow. "Please, Sir."

Chapter Seven "I put the coffee on." Whaaaat? Estelle stared at Nathan's disappearing back. He could not be serious. The heated looks he'd thrown her way on the drive over had her simmering on the boil nicely, her body on fire to combust at the slightest touch from him, and now he got her home, he wanted coffee? She bit back the groan of disgust, and Nathan turned round at the door to the kitchen. "Is there a problem, sub?" The twinkle in his eye gave him away, and Estelle stuck her tongue out at him. She just about heard his tiger's purr. So that was the way he was going to play it? Well, two could play this game. "Be right there, just need the bathroom." She turned about foot and stomped up the stairs as loudly as she could. His chuckle carried up to her, and she swore under her breath. Insufferable overgrown pussycat. She'd show him. Right, she needed a plan. Thankfully her one concession to vanity had been the heels she wore with her jeans and her fire engine red lacy underwear. She took her hairband out, shook her head and grinned at herself in the mirror. She would show him. Ten minutes later, she tottered back down those stairs in nothing but her underwear and heels. Her lips now matched the color of her thong and push up bra, thanks to the lippy she'd found in the bottom of her handbag, and her eyes held a smoky hue after she refreshed her make up. She paused to look in the hallway mirror to practice her porn star pout and smirked to herself. Neeve would be proud of her. Estelle's auburn locks tumbled down her back, and she ruffled them up some more, better to perfect the “bed look”. Drops of water glistened on her skin from the shower hose she'd run over herself, and her wet underwear was rendered transparent. Try to resist that, pussycat. She straightened her shoulders, and her eyes locked with the man himself in the mirror. Her heart went into overdrive, seeing the predatory way he stalked towards her, his eyes drawn together in a frown. He threw the coffee cup he'd been holding against the wall, and Estelle turned round to see the brown liquid slowly slither down the cream surface, until it pooled on the

oak flooring. Her insides did a similar slither when Nathan stopped in front of her. His heat and scent surrounded her, and she didn't dare raise her eyes off the floor. Time stood still as he simply watched her. Her skin heated; her heart thumped against her chest bone, and her breathing grew labored, as she waited for his next move. His breath on her neck sent her nerve endings afire, and she clenched her thighs together to try to alleviate the hot, wet ache in her pussy. He licked her neck while one hand went in her hair and yanked her head up. The sharp pain brought tears to her eyes, and she bit back another moan as her body reacted to the stimulation with a surge of liquid between her thighs. Nathan's nostrils flared. His eyes changed to the glowing slits of his tiger, and his claws ran out slowly, little pinpricks of painful pleasure in her scalp, and his delicious scent intensified. Her knees buckled, and she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt to steady herself. He caught her moan in a bruising kiss, before he spun her around to face the mirror. One jeans-clad knee went between her legs, and the rough friction against her clit sent sensations spiraling into her core. He yanked her hair back again until her head rested against his shoulders, and her body shook with the sensations assaulting her. "Watch us in the mirror, my naughty little girl. See how I mark your body with my possession." The growled words delivered between small bites along her neck zinged along her skin, the command behind them forcing her to keep her eyes open, when all she wanted to do was let them drift shut and ride the sensations. She panted her excitement when Nathan ran his claws along her body in small, ever-increasing circles, digging in just hard enough to leave red trails behind. Every scrape along her quivering tummy arched along her skin and danced through her veins, heating her body. Her pussy clenched, her clit throbbed, and the fine sheen of her juices trickling down her inside thigh was clearly visible in the mirror. Nathans's jeans turned a darker shade of blue as her arousal coated his leg, too, and she couldn't help the needful whimper escaping. "Please, Sir…I…" His hand had reached her swollen nipples, and her voice trailed off on shuddery exhale, when he used his menacing claws to rip the lace, exposing her breasts. The heavy globes tumbled into his waiting hands, and he groaned into her neck, his erection pressing into

her ass as his hips thrust against her with the movement of his thigh against her swollen folds. That felt way too good. Nathan growled into her neck, his fangs grazing along the sensitive skin as he pinched her nipples. The sweet pain settled low in her abdomen, and the waves of pleasure built in a receding and advancing crescendo of sensations, threatening to overwhelm her. The swat to her naked thigh, coupled with the bite into her shoulder brought her down a notch along the ladder of torturous joy her body was climbing. "No coming without your Dom's permission. Do you hear me?" She nodded, her eyes wide and almost black with her own need as they connected with his golden ones in the mirror, and he smiled his approval. "That's my sweet girl." He removed his leg from between her thighs, and Estelle stumbled. His warm hands on her hips steadied her. "Easy, I've got you. I didn’t want to do this in the fucking hallway, but we'll just have to improvise, won't we? We'll have a lifetime of exploring my playroom after all." Estelle's heart turned over at the whispered words. "Promise?" she asked. He simply smiled, and the emotion in his golden eyes blew her away. The rip of her thong had her look down, and she groaned when Nathan raised the strip of material to his nose and inhaled deeply. "You smell divine, and you're so beautiful." One of his hands raised her legs, exposing her bare pussy to his hungry gaze. "Look how wet you are for me. Your juices covering your sweet hole, coating my hands is such a fucking turn-on." "Then fuck me, please…Sir." Estelle breathed the words and bit her lip so hard she tasted blood when Nathan shook his head and chuckled. He withdrew his claws and pushed two fingers into her aching channel instead, and Estelle saw stars. He increased the thrust of his fingers. Estelle rode those talented digits as his thumb circled her clit in slow, maddening strokes that left her body dangling on the precipice of release. Again and again he pushed her to the edge, alternating fast thrusts with slow explorations of her folds, until he pinched her clit and lowered her leg to the floor. She moaned her denial, and he raised her hands up high above her head. She flinched

as wet material was wrapped around her wrists and tightened. Nathan kicked her legs apart with his foot until her shoulders trembled with her arms stretched to the point of pain above her, the cool air against her naked pussy making her feel vulnerable and aroused beyond all reason. "Open your eyes, and look at yourself in the mirror. See what I see, my beautiful little sub, all tied up and red by my hands." Estelle forced her eyes open, and heat stained her cheeks. Nathan had used her thong to secure her wrists to the ornate metal trim of the floor length mirror. With her arms secured high above her head, her breasts jutted forward still framed by the tattered remains of her bra. Scratch marks covered her abdomen, and the imprint of Nathan's hands was clearly visible on the glistening skin of her inner thighs. Her swollen and distended nipples seemed huge, and her throbbing clitoris peeked out from inside its fleshy hood. Never in a million years would Estelle have thought that the sight of her aroused body would prove to be such a turn on. A fine sheen of perspiration covered her from head to toe, her ribs drawing in and out as she tried to get much needed oxygen into her lungs, her breasts bouncing with every breath she took. Her throat went dry, and she swallowed convulsively when Nathan untied his belt and wrapped the end round his fist several times with a wicked smile. "Now, for your punishment, how many lashes do you deserve for trying to force my hand, do you think?" "No, please, Sir." Estelle croaked the words, fear making her hoarse, and her body shook. "No?" Nathan's eyes narrowed, and he watched her carefully for her reaction when he trailed the end of that menacing looking belt over her breasts slowly. The leather scraped across her sensitive nipples, and some of the fear left Estelle as her body reacted to Nathan's velvety murmurs of encouragement. He trailed the belt lower over her abdomen and into her wet pussy folds. He fed it through her legs and grabbed the other end, tightening the belt until it dug into her tender flesh and bit into her clitoris. When he moved the length of leather back and forth slowly, Estelle groaned long and hard, as her clit clenched and quivered, and her body shot back up each rung of pleasure with lightning speed. Nathan caught the groan in a tender

kiss and stepped up his speed. Estelle yanked at her restraints, her hips moving of their own accord, and when he finally whispered his assent for her to come, Estelle's body splintered into waves upon waves of release shuddering through her. Nathan released the belt, and the few sharp slaps of leather against her ass cheeks sent forth another ripple of release rushing through her. She was dimly aware of her arms being lowered and the sensation of being lifted and moved. She snuggled into Nathan's reassuring warmth as he took the stairs two at a time, and in no time at all the cool feel of satin sheets soothed the sting of her ass cheeks as he lowered her carefully onto the king-size bed dominating his bedroom. She didn't take much else in, her attention too focused on the fact that Nathan was undressing. He shrugged out of his shirt in record time, and Estelle let her eyes roam freely over his broad shoulders, impressive pectorals and tight abdominals, the muscles rippling with the movement of his body. He was leaner than his brother, the only sign of his tiger a simple paw print on his left bicep. A fine dusting of hair covered his torso trailing down into the waistband of his trousers, where he was slowly undoing his zipper. Without thinking she leant forward and stilled his movements with her hands. His cock jerked underneath the fabric, and Nathan sucked his breath in sharply. She looked up at him from underneath her lashes to find him watching her. The heat in his sent her body climbing again and her heart clenched. God, she loved him so much. She'd never said it out loud, but the words could not be contained anymore. "I love you." The hands under hers jerked upwards and grabbed her wrists. He pulled her up towards him until she was kneeling on the bed in front of him, her breasts squashed against his chest, so that she could feel his thundering heartbeat. His eyes searched her face,and his smile took her breath away, whilst his thumb stroked across her bottom lip. She took the digit into her mouth and sucked, flicking her tongue over the end like she was longing to do to the thick cock digging into her tummy. His tiger's purr rumbled through her, and she smiled, releasing his thumb with an audible pop. She tried to tug her hands out of his, but he tightened his hold. "Please, Sir, let me."

To her surprised delight he released her hands, and she trailed her fingernails down the ridges of his abdomen, until they found her target. With a coy smile in his direction she released the zipper and pulled his trousers down his lean hips. His thick shaft sprang up out of its nest of dark curls towards his abdomen, the purple tip swollen and already glistening with pre-cum. "You're beautiful." The words tumbled out, before she could stop them, and Nathan laughed as she ran her hand up and down the velvety soft skin of his shaft and palmed the heavy balls swinging underneath. He cupped her cheek, his slightly calloused palm awakening her nerve endings, and she turned her head and kissed his hand. "No, you're beautiful, Estelle." The reverent timbre of his voice had warmth wrapping itself around her heart, and she simply sat there, grinning up at him like a fool. His smile deepened as he looked down at her, and his voice shook with emotion as he stepped out of his jeans and joined her on the bed. She pouted at the loss of his cock under her hands, and he kissed her nose. "Later, I promise. I need the first time I spill to be in your pussy. I ache for the touch of your body round my cock and to truly make you mine." His eyes bled back to his tiger’s as he spoke, and his fangs ran out. His claws stroked through her hair, and a shiver of anticipation went through her being, to be replaced by the warm glow of rightness. "I never thought I would find someone I truly wanted to mate with. Someone who would carry my bite with the same pride mom carries dad's. I'd all but given up hope, and then you walked into my office, all fresh and new and so very young." He closed his eyes and shook his head, and Estelle leant forward to kiss his eyelids. He smiled and drew her mouth down for an earth-shattering kiss that had her squirming under him until he released her. "I'm not that young. I thought we were over that." Her voice rose in her indignation, and Nathan chuckled. "I know my sweet, I know. I love you so much, and I want you to accept my bite more than anything, but we don't have to…I mean." Estelle's eyes widened, seeing the flush on her proud Dom's cheeks as he struggled for words. The blood roared in her ears, and her heart thundered in her chest as she willed him to continue. "You've learnt enough about our way of life to know what I'm asking of you. If you accept my bite only death can part our

connection. It is stronger than marriage could ever be, not that I don’t want to marry you, too…Fuck it. I'm making a hash of this. I was going to ask you over dinner tonight, but then you pulled your little stunt, and… Jesus, say something, Estelle." Estelle giggled in happiness and his eyes narrowed as she pushed him down and straddled him. He groaned when the move brought her pussy in direct contact with his cock. Excitement shot through her, and she tried to align herself to take him deep, but his hands on her hips stopped her. "Estelle!" The warning rumbled through her, and she pouted. "You haven't answered me, sweet." Estelle rolled her eyes, earning herself a quick slap to her ass, and she moaned her approval. "Is that you all you've got…Sir?" She shrieked when he flipped her over and raised her bum in the air. One hand delved between her folds, and she moaned when his fingers slid in deep and found her g-spot. He massaged her intimately with ruthless precision, and Estelle lost herself in sensation. "Please, Sir – Oh God – not again, please." "Please what, Estelle?" Nathan's warm back covered hers, his fingers withdrew, a drawer shut and opened. Then there was a rib of foil, and she held her breath when Nathan's thick tip slid into her pussy hole. She clenched her muscles, desperately trying to draw him in deeper, but his hands on her hips held her still. "I asked you a question. I need your answer." Estelle growled, and Nathan's tiger answered. The grip on her hips grew painful, Nathan's voice strained. "Baby, yes or no." "Yes, Sir, please, just…" Whatever else she was going to say flew out of her brain completely as Nathan thrust into her with a deep growl. As ready as she was, the angle and force of his thrust caught her by surprise, and she whimpered. Nathan stilled with a muttered curse of apology and waited for her body to adjust. When she moaned her consent, he thrust again, slowly at first and then with ever increasing speed. She locked her arms and pushed against him, matching him move for move as the tension built inside her again. Just as she hovered on the brink of release, he licked her neck, and with a growled, "I love you," he bit down hard. Estelle screamed his name with the force of her

own release, as he grew bigger still inside her, and her body clamped around his cock. He bucked and growled his own release, his whole body shaking in tune with her, and his claws sliced through the sheets, until finally he collapsed on top of her. Still joined he rolled sideways and propped himself up one elbow, his beast's eyes searching her face anxiously. She smiled at him, and he laughed when she asked, "You need to bite me every time we do this, right?" She pouted at the shake of his head, and let her eyes flutter closed, as he licked the wound on her neck. "Spoilsport, I mean …Sir." He pulled her closer into his warmth, and she smiled at the last words she heard before exhaustion claimed her. "We really have to work on your obedience." The End

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Other Books by Doris O’Connor: Lure of the Blood Lure of Forever Too Hot to Handle Too Cold to Love Virgins Behaving Badly

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