Claiming Cleo (Masters Club 2)

“Oh, god,” she groaned. “Please…”

In one fluid, athletic movement, he was up and over her. Holding himself above her on one arm, he guided his hard cock into her swollen, aching cunt. He filled her perfectly, the added pleasure nearly overwhelming her.

“Oooooo,” she wailed as he swiveled and moved in such a way that the ecstasy consumed her from the inside out. “I can’t… I’m going to…”

Still holding himself up on one arm so he didn’t touch her tender breasts, Master Jack placed his other hand around her throat. That last, perfect trigger sent her flailing over the edge of a powerful and uncontrollable orgasm.

As she shuddered and writhed, Master Jack groaned in answer. A few more perfect thrusts and then he stiffened, his hand tightening around her throat as he ejaculated deep inside her.

Finally, he pulled away and collapsed beside her. Reaching up over her, he released the clips that held her cuffed hands against the wrought-iron headboard. Shifting on the bed, he undid the restraints at her ankles.

“Arnica?” he queried, glancing around her small space.

“In the nightstand,” she replied. Actually, the balm was one of Master Hayden’s concoctions. A physician, he had developed an especially effective aftercare salve that he produced in small batches exclusively for the Masters Club. It worked better than any over-the-counter products.

Master Jack stroked the soothing cream over Cleo’s stinging inner thighs. The relief was instant. Then he gently washed her sticky cunt with the now-cool, damp washcloth. Finally, he snuggled down beside her, pulling her toward him until they were spooned like two commas. With careful hands, he gently cupped her breasts, his body warm against her back.

They drifted for a while in the satiated afterglow of fabulous sex. Cleo breathed in the delicious scent of his warm skin that mingled with the heady smell of sex. She couldn’t recall ever feeling so cared for. It was both wonderful…and terrifying.

Eventually, nuzzling his face against her neck, Master Jack murmured in a teasing tone, “Naughty little sluts who come without permission deserve to get punished. Isn’t that right, slave girl?”

Cleo caught her breath. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, heart pattering.

“I’ll let you know when and how I plan to mete out your punishment. It might come when you least expect it.”

He let that soak in a moment, and then added, “Meanwhile, if you’re up for it, I thought we could go out to dinner. I, uh, I want to talk over a few things. You can pick the restaurant this time.”

His mention of food made Cleo instantly ravenous, the dirty dog from hours before now a distant memory. They rested a while longer and then got up to use the loo and shower. Master Jack remained sweetly solicitous all the while, making sure she didn’t get her piercings too wet in the shower’s spray, and carefully patting them dry afterward.

He looked up as his phone chimed from the bedroom. He left the tiny bathroom to check his messages. A moment later, just as Cleo was getting ready to blow dry her hair, he stuck his head in the door and asked, “Do you mind if I leave you to get ready? I need to go downstairs to the first floor to see to something.”

“Of course, Sir. Shall I meet you down there when I’m ready?”

“Yes. Take your time. I’ll probably be in the auction room.”

Cleo hummed softly to herself as she dried her hair. She couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful jeweled hoops at her breasts in the mirror. She loved the delicate, feminine jewelry, but she loved even more what it represented.

A vibrating buzz in the other room got her attention as she turned off the blow dryer. Now, someone was texting her. Hurrying out, she retrieved her mobile from the bureau and peered at the screen. It was from Jess.

Hey girlfriend. We’re downstairs. Master Cameron is chatting with Master Grayson and your guy! They’re deep in conversation. I’m on my own for a few. Where are you? All good? ?

Cleo replied instantly.

I’m in my room upstairs getting ready for dinner. Come up!!!!

A few moments later, Jess burst into Cleo’s bedroom. “Tell me everything,” she cried as they embraced. Letting Cleo go, Jess stared down at her breasts, still bare from the shower.

“Cleo,” she breathed, bringing her hands to her mouth. “They’re beautiful. When did you do this? I thought needles were your hard limit!”

“Not anymore,” Cleo replied with a smug grin. “I have faced down my fears and conquered them. Thanks to Master Jack. We did it this afternoon. It wasn’t really planned. It just happened.”

“Details. Now.”

As she riffled through her wardrobe in search of an outfit, Cleo told Jess all about the amazing events of the past couple of days. Jess, good friend that she was, offered the appropriate, gushing approval and delight.