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His eyes were hungry as he watched her draw the dress over her head and then kneel in front of him.

“I wish to claim you as mine,” he said, once she’d settled. “To be your Master.”

Though she knelt at his feet, she looked up as she answered. “I want to be yours. To wear the mark of your control.”

“Be certain of what you ask for, Angel.” There was a warning in his voice, but she couldn’t determine what it related to.

“I am, Sir.”

He didn’t question her again. He simply took the collar and placed it around her neck. With the soft click of the lock, Dena felt her world settle into place.

“You are mine,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion.

“Yes.” Silent tears ran down her face. “Thank you, Master. Thank you.”

“Show your Master your appreciation.”

She bent to kiss his feet, wetting them first with her tears before her lips could brush their tops.

“Yours,” she whispered against the right.

“Forever,” she promised the left.

The evening air held just a teasing touch of the cooler weather to come with autumn. For the long minutes after she resumed kneeling, Jeff simply stood and watched her, and she grew increasingly aware of the colder temperature. Her tears cooled against her skin and her nipples pebbled. Even still, she felt the warmth of his love and protection.

“I think I could stand here and look at you all night,” he finally said. “Simply stand and delight in seeing you wear my collar once again.”

“Maybe we should try that someday, Master.”

He growled. “Say it again.”

“Master,” she repeated, knowing what he wanted to hear.

“Again.”

“Master.”

He pulled her to her feet and, without saying anything, crushed his lips against hers in a demanding kiss. She leaned in to his embrace, thrilled by the possessiveness in his touch. He was rough and hard and demanding and she loved and craved every second of it.

When he pulled back, they were both panting.

“I decided against candles tonight,” he said.

“I look forward to experiencing what you have planned.”

He seemed decidedly devious when he spoke again. “Go stand between those two trees.”

Looking at the spot he indicated, she wondered if she’d spoken too quickly. He’d obviously been busy earlier, because ropes hung from the branches, ready for his use. She stood in place while he came up behind her and slowly and efficiently cuffed her wrists and ankles, effectively binding her spread-eagle between the trees.

“How do you feel, Angel?”

She pulled experimentally against the rope. There wasn’t much give. “Like we should have done candles, Master.”

He chuckled and dipped a finger between her legs. “But your body betrays you. You’re excited about this.”

It was true, so she didn’t see the point in saying otherwise.

“Your earlier statement—what was it? You want to wear the mark of my control.” He moved so he stood in her line of vision, making certain she saw him as he removed a pocketknife and cut a small switch from a nearby tree. He sliced it through the air a few times and then struck his palm with it. “The group play party is tomorrow night. You’ll no doubt still be wearing some of my marks. What’s your safe word, Angel?”

“Wings.” She didn’t feel aroused anymore, but she tried to relax anyway.

“Why do you look so frightened? I haven’t done anything yet.”

“I just … You’ve never …”

“Look at me.” He held her under her chin so she had no choice. “What did I say I was doing with the wax play, the time I first collared you?”

The calmness she found in his eyes helped ease her anxiety. “Proving you’re the best.”

“And in the years since then, do you think I’ve grown better or worse?”

“Better, Master.”

“And my feelings toward you, are they stronger or weaker?”

“Stronger, Master.”

“Anything you’d like to say?”

“I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“Apology accepted. Now, on a scale of one to ten, with one being mildly frightened and ten being scared shitless, what number are you?”

“Three, Master.”

“I can live with that.” He let go of her chin and moved behind her.

He started with gentle taps of the switch along her upper thighs, interspersed with gentle passes of his fingers between her legs. Gradually, he increased the taps so they became like little licks of electricity dancing along her legs and buttocks. Still he kept stroking her, sliding fingers in and out of her and teasing her clit.

“What number, Angel?”

“Mmmm … Negative ten, Master.” She tried to rock her hips, but he’d bound her too tightly.

“Very nice. Perhaps I should actually start now?”

Her eyes flew open. “Master?”

The switch whistled through the air and landed with a sharp line of pain on her right butt cheek. Before she could say anything, his hand was back between her legs, stroking the fire within her again.

“Oh, yes,” he said. “That’ll leave a nice mark. That was one. I’m going to give you ten. You are not allowed to come until I’ve finished all ten. If you do, I’ll add ten more.”

She figured there was little chance of that happening. “Yes, Master.”

But by number four, she discovered she’d vastly underestimated him. Between his fingers, the delicious pain, and the wicked things he whispered in her ear, she was dangerously close to coming.

“Please, Master, let me come,” she nearly shouted, trying to stand on her toes.

“Poor Angel. You have six more before you can come.”

Number five landed precariously close to her pussy, and she moaned as his expert hands transformed the pain to pleasure.

“I’m trying to decide,” he said, “if I want to fuck your pussy or your ass.”

Numbers six and seven fell on her sweet spot, right where her ass met her thigh.

“I love sinking into your pussy, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had your ass. It’s so tight, the way it clutches my dick. What do you think?”

Number eight hit right above the back of her knee, and once more he circled her clit. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from coming.

“Angel, I asked a question.” Three fingers pushed inside her pussy.

“I don’t care, Master, please.”

“I didn’t bring any lube, and I’m not going back inside to get it.” There was a rustle of clothes, and she knew he was naked. “Two more and then I ride you hard and make us both happy.”

Nine and ten were quick and hard, but she barely knew they were over before the head of his cock was driving into her. With one swift thrust, he buried his length inside. He reached above her head and pulled loose the quick-release knots so she fell back into him.

He held her steady, one arm around her chest while the other held her hips in place. And though she couldn’t move, he worked himself in and out, taking them both to the edge. His thrusts were relentless, and when he dropped a hand to rub her clit, she let herself go.

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