Switch Master: 6 (Ink and Kink), page 29
“She wants to solve crimes, right the wrongs, much as her mom does. She must be an amazing young lady.”
Setting the file aside, Sam didn’t know what to do or say. All of a sudden, her vision blurred with tears and Taran’s arms came around her, holding her as she cried.
“It’s a miracle. Finally, I can sleep at night knowing my daughter is safe and well and loved,” she murmured, lifting her head and noticing she’d smeared her mascara all over his shirt. “Look at that, I’ve made a mess.”
“It doesn’t matter. Makeup washes off. Are you up for a trip to Arizona?”
“I am. But, Taran, I want to do this right. We can’t just show up. I want to contact Abigail’s parents first.”
“That’s admirable. We’ll get in touch with them and go from there. I do have a question for you, Samantha.”
“Yes?”
“You have a key to this house. You have a parking permit. What do you say we stop bed hopping between your apartment and here?”
“Are you asking me to move in officially?”
“I’d say we’re already living together. I was thinking we could get in touch with a contractor and see about making some changes around the house when Ethan and Morgan move.”
“What sort of changes do you have in mind?” she asked curiously. “Don’t get me wrong, I love it here.”
“I know you do, doll. But once we apply to become foster parents, family services will want to do a home study before giving their approval. It’d be nice if we turned this half of the house into several bedrooms fit for teenagers.”
“What about the attic?” she asked.
“It’d be wise to have a house that won’t cause a social worker to raise an eyebrow when he or she does a home study. I can talk to Alex and see about moving our dungeon to Druid Creek Castle permanently.”
“And the workshop, won’t you and your brothers need it?”
“Maybe it can be moved to Phalen’s shop in Salem.”
“That’d work. Although I think we should spend a lot of time in the attic before it’s gone.”
Taran raised his eyebrow. “You do?”
“Definitely, there’s so much I need to learn from my Master.”
“In that case, will you move here? If it’s a hassle with roller derby season opening in April, I’ll drive you to the Roller Emporium when you need to be there if you’d like.”
“It’s a yes. I’ll look into getting out of my apartment lease.”
Taran grinned, leaning toward her. “How about celebrating the occasion upstairs?”
“Will you give me ten minutes to get ready?”
“Permission granted,” he said. “But since you’ve decided to go to the attic, I don’t want you to have any more wine.”
“You’re right, I should remain clearheaded.”
“Good. Your ten minutes are ticking. I’ll meet you upstairs.”
“Yes, Master Taran.”
Inclining her head, Sam set her precious file on the table, hugged Taran and rushed off to his closet.
Taran was right to want to celebrate. Her daughter was alive! Tonight, she was no longer afraid of the chains that bound her to the past, no longer afraid to live the life she wanted to live with the man she loved more than anything.
Grabbing what she needed from the closet, Sam headed for the dungeon, stopping long enough to drop a hint for Taran.
“Rain check for Friday night is being cashed in,” she said, rushing up the spiral staircase.
In the dungeon, Sam turned the lights to a setting that wouldn’t be overly bright. Looking around, she saw the plastic bin where Taran had stored the chains that had once been on the wall.
He’d taught her to never bind herself. And she wouldn’t do that. She wasn’t altogether sure how to do that without him anyway. Instead, she selected two sets of inch-thick chains, each with a clasp on the end that looked as if they’d attach to an O-ring on a collar.
Shedding the robe and exchanging it for the men’s dress shirt she’d taken from the closet, she left it unbuttoned. Thankfully, she’d showered and prepared for this moment.
At the spa yesterday, she’d pampered herself after the mani-pedi with a hot waxing by a talented aesthetician. It had hurt like a sonofabitch, but once the burn subsided her mons was smooth and bare.
Going up on the multiuse platform Taran had built, she took the chains, her hands shaking a little, and cinched them around her waist like a belt. Liking how they looked, she relaxed, quickly discovering that the chains weren’t frightening at all.
In the right hands, in Taran’s hands, nothing bad could happen to her when he controlled the chains. It was a powerful and surreal realization, one she wished she’d made weeks ago.
Taran’s footsteps on the spiral stairs signaled her ten minutes was about to end. He walked into the room, wearing a charcoal-gray business suit. It was as if he’d just come home from a day in court.
Holy smokin’ hotness! Taran naked was gorgeous. Taran wearing his courtroom best was nothing short of breathtaking. Just looking at him in that suit, the way his hair was combed back and his shoes gleamed to a polished shine, made her mouth water and her pussy cream in readiness.
He paused in the doorway, scanning her from head to toe.
“Samantha, doll, you don’t need to prove anything,” he said, his eyes on the chains. “I should’ve destroyed them by now.”
“Please, Principal Maddox, don’t discipline me too strictly,” she begged. “I know this isn’t the standard uniform for one of your teachers, but…I couldn’t resist wearing something of yours.”
Lifting the chains in her hands, she rattled them, bending forward to expose her breasts to him. His eyes strayed to her breasts, his teeth clenched when she wiggled just enough to make them sway.
“Are you intentionally being naughty, Ms. Riley?”
Standing taller, she grasped the end of one of the chains and lifted it to her lips, rubbing the clasp against them. It tasted metallic. It didn’t frighten her. “Are you going to do something about it if I am? My only aim is to please you, Master.”
“You should know I am not an easy Master to please. Teachers in my employ are expected to be disciplined, self-contained and professional at all times. This is hardly professional attire.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It has affected me in the cruelest of fashions.”
“Affected you how?” she dared, allowing her gaze to lock on to the hard-on tenting his pants.
“It’s made my balls ache and my cock stand in salute to your beauty, Ms. Riley.”
“That can’t be good. I was only trying to be bad for your sake. I found your hobby…in your private locker room.”
“Hobby?”
Again, she rattled the chains. “For kink, whips, chains, you name it. I’m open to whatever you dish out.”
“Are you certain you want me to use the chains on you? If you do, there’s always a safe word. If you so choose, I’ll toss the damnable things the second we’re out of here tonight.”
“I’m not afraid of them as long as you’re in control. They aren’t all that scary. In fact, I believe I could…yes, I could.”
“You could what?”
Sam smiled unweaving the chain carefully and sliding the cold links up between her thighs. “I could fuck them,” she said, rocking her hips forward and back along the cool metal.
“Cease. The only thing you will need to fuck is my dick, in more ways than you might have anticipated. First, let’s show you how I use chains such as those.”
In the matter of a few minutes, Taran made a quick trip to a closet off to the side of the room where he’d stored some of his bondage gear, grabbed a handful of items and came up on the platform.
Commanded her to turn around so she couldn’t see what he was doing, he set everything aside. She heard some rattling and clashing then he removed the chains from between her thighs, maneuvering his body into her to push her toward the wall.
“Forehead to the wall, Ms. Riley, then I will have your left wrist,” he requested.
Trustingly, she placed her forehead against the wall then offered her wrist. He took it, slapping a leather manacle around it, and fastened the clasp end of a chain to a D-shaped ring on the manacle. In a heartbeat, he carefully brought her arm up above her head, attaching the other end of the chain to a special hook on the wall.
“Now I’ll bind your right wrist,” he demanded.
“Yes, please,” she agreed.
“I don’t play BDSM games for kicks and giggles,” he said, manacling her right wrist and chaining her arm to the wall as he’d done the left. “This is my lifestyle, one I want you to take part in with me. Do you understand?”
“I understand that I am bound for your service, Master Maddox,” she said.
“Are you certain you wish to proceed? I aim to do naughty things to your ass tonight. Do you know what those naughty things will entail, Ms. Riley?”
“You’re going to spank me.”
“So much more than spanking,” he crooned. “We can start there. Spank, kiss, tongue, fuck, anything and everything, that’s what I’ll do.”
“I’m not afraid. Naughty teachers should be disciplined.”
“Naughty teachers should be fucked, so you shall be. Naughty, naughty girl,” he muttered, his voice lowering as he suddenly began tearing the shirt she was wearing to shreds.
“This is your shirt.”
“Don’t care. You. Need. To. Be. Naked.”
“Shouldn’t you be too?” She intentionally decided to break a rule. She turned her head and flashed what she hoped was a daring fuck-my-ass grin. The flat of Taran’s palm stung her backside until it felt bright red and on fire.
“Were you granted permission to move? No. You are to submit and avoid being bratty.”
“Sorry, Master!” she shouted, unaware that she’d offered her ass for the spanking. “Show me who’s in charge of my body.”
“I’m about to. All you need to worry about is the price you owe me for daring to tease me into wanting you.”
“Is that bad? Wanting me, I mean.”
“No. It’s good, baby.” Stroking his hand over her ass cheeks, he squeezed and teased. “I’m not hurting you?”
“It’ll hurt only if you stop,” she said.
“That’s my Slam Bam Sam,” he praised, continuing to tease her ass before dropping back and picking something up. “This is going to be a little harsher than my hand.”
“What is it?”
He answered by smoothing something warm and flat and wooden against her backside. It was a paddle.
“It’ll sting. Your ass will get hot pink and I’ll kiss it all better when I’m done.”
“My ass is yours. Spank it. Paddle it, whatever you desire.”
Aware of the smell of her own arousal, the scent of his, the sound of his breaths and the curious thud of her heartbeat, of the chains securing her to the wall, she became more in tune with Taran. A wild, exciting buzz slid up and down her skin, creating goose bumps.
Knowing deep down that the chains were a safe word away from being removed, she relaxed and gave in to the sensations coursing through her, letting herself go, letting years of sadness and regret and loneliness go.
“Here we go, baby doll, count for me. Ten swats,” he said, continuously brushing the flat end of the paddle against her butt cheeks.
Sam braced herself, suddenly grateful for the chains. Taran lifted the paddle, swatting her with it. It stung, sharply.
“Ah! One,” she shouted, gasping a little as the sting zinged outward, as thrilling as the spanking.
With each paddling, she counted, not once feeling afraid or worried that she was freaky for liking the bee-sting erotic heat that turned her on so much. Her skin felt like it was on fire. Her pussy was creamy wet, her body accepted her submission, relishing in it.
Taran suddenly stopped paddling and went down on his knees behind her. “Look at you. Your ass is pretty in pink. You prepared your ass for me, didn’t you? I noticed the waxing. Your pussy is gorgeous. You deserve a reward, don’t you think?”
“I hope so.”
“Brave little sub, I love you,” he pronounced, his heat and breath warming her up as he leaned inward and kissed the palm and paddle marks he’d left behind.
Taran’s kisses melted into licks straight to the part of her that had yet to take his cock. With his tongue, he warmed and dampened her asshole, stroking in and out of her, setting her on fire with need. Feeling wanton, desired, she keened and cried out, offering herself, grateful for the chains keeping her standing.
Withdrawing his tongue, he inserted his finger, causing her to jump when she discovered it was slickened with lubricant.
“Thank you for thinking of my comfort, Master,” she said, hoping he understood the question. “But when did you get the lubricant?”
“Lube and a condom are a must-have when we have anal sex, doll. I brought them both with me from across the room.”
“Oh that’s good.” The lube felt good too. She’d have expected it to be cold, but it had a warming affect, likely because he’d rubbed it in his hot hands.
“It’ll be good, Samantha.”
“Make it so, pretty boy. I want to come.”
“Then so you shall,” he promised, continuing to work the lube into her, opening her up, stretching her for something a whole lot bigger than his fingers.
At last, he stood up, moving in behind her. He still wore his suit. The fineness of the fabric tickled her bare skin, making what was about to take place that much more forbidden and deliciously wicked.
Taran murmured into her ear, aligning against her back. One of his hands anchored itself to her hip, holding her as his other wrapped around her, smoothing its way to her clit.
Stroking her pleasure-filled nub, he kept her on edge, rubbing his condom-covered cock all along her backside, lower back and butt cheeks. The smoothness of his suit pants combined with the thickness of his penis set her teeth on edge, it felt that good.
Just as she begged for more, he released her bindings. Shocked, she would have asked why but Taran put her on all fours, resuming his place behind her.
“I don’t want this to hurt you, baby doll. This will go better doggie style the first time. One inch at a time, okay? If it hurts too much, stop me.”
“I won’t stop you.”
Taran kissed her bare shoulder, taking a harsh bite to keep her trapped in place. Then she felt the latex-lubricated head of his cock brush her ass, entering, pushing slowly through the burn, awakening her to a dark pleasure she’d only ever permit with Taran Maddox.
Much, much later, after they came in a volcanic rush, Taran took Sam downstairs, ran a hot bath and they soaked together until her never-before-used muscles and body parts were no longer yelling at her in protest.
She was fairly certain she’d still be aching in the morning, but that was okay. There was nothing she wasn’t willing to do with him, nothing. The soreness meant they’d had hot, raunchy sex and she was rapidly getting addicted to the raunchy.
Admittedly though, the next time they had sex, she hoped they’d do it the old-fashioned way, skin against skin, face-to-face, kissing as they came.
After they finished bathing and brushed their teeth, they went to bed. It took only a few kisses before they aroused each other and made love, resting and talking until passion ignited anew.
Chapter Seventeen
Roller Emporium—Framingham, Massachusetts
Sam couldn’t believe a month had passed since she learned her daughter was alive and living in Arizona.
It’d been a month since she’d spoken to her landlord in Framingham and moved into the Maddox brownstone the following day. A month spent helping Morgan and Ethan pack while she and Taran consulted contractors and they were currently trying to choose the best redesignto turn his bedroom suite into two rooms suitable for teenagers.
Not to her surprise, Taran remained devoted to her. In the bedroom, he was dominant and loving and so much more than she’d ever hoped she would find in a lover.
The Monday after she’d read Mark’s letter, she and Taran had contacted Colin and Fay O’Neal, hoping to get their approval to meet Abigail. They were initially skeptical, as they’d always believed Abigail’s biological mother had died soon after she’d given birth.
To prove her identity, Sam offered to submit a DNA test and offered reassurances to the O’Neal family that she was really Abigail’s biological mother but had no intention of separating Abigail from those who’d loved and raised her.
She didn’t want to pressure Fay and Colin O’Neal or make it seem as if she would attempt to take Abigail away from them or interfere in her college education. All she wanted was to get to know her daughter and offer support if Abigail should need it.
During his investigation into the medical malpractice suit that had been launched against Dr. Solomon, his fertility clinic and the women’s clinic, Taran learned that ten women had come forward to testify against the doctor, each a victim.
Sadly, Solomon’s death complicated the lawsuit, as he’d destroyed medical records and some of the victims had given up and some had taken a lump settlement. Curiously, about a year ago, another suit had been launched against the doctor’s practices and Manhattan General by Mark Cormack on behalf of six women who’d initially given up.
As the last four weeks flashed through her mind, Sam wondered at the good things that had come, preferring to concentrate on the future than the past. Luke Walker had gotten a work permit and now worked twenty hours a week at Maddox Ink, cleaning up around the place and designing tattoos.
He, Taran and Sam were growing closer, especially after Taran worked his lawyer’s magic, along with being armed with the information Ethan Maddox found about Daria Walker’s extracurricular activities at the spa, and successfully petitioned a judge to deny her attempts to seek unsupervised visitation, much less custody.
Once Luke felt certain Daria wasn’t going to be part of his life, he opened up to Taran and Sam, admitting that one of Daria’s acquaintances had visited their home the same afternoon that the meth lab exploded.
