“Then I’ll have to slap your arse silly until we get rid of them.” How did he make her understand? How did he tell her that of the hundreds of women he’d slept with, she was the only one to really engage him? Well, for starters, he would never mention that there had been hundreds of women. He wasn’t a bloody idiot. “I only want you, Penelope.”

He grabbed his kit out of the drawer and found what he was looking for. He set aside the toys he would use later on the small bedside table and then pulled out his prize. He’d prepped a pretty purple plug for her. Her favorite color. It looked good on her. It would look damn fine forcing her tiny hole open in preparation for him. She’d slept with a plug a few nights when they were in London, but it was still so small, so tight. He would be the only man to ever touch her like this.

“That’s good because I only want you, Damon.”

He frowned her way. He was indulgent, but this was the only place he had any real control and he wasn’t about to give it up. He swatted her arse, right down the middle. Her squeal made his dick jump. “What do you call me when I’m fucking you?”

“Master. I call you my Master.”

“That’s right.” His sub. She was his and she would remain his. He reached down and touched the silver collar around her neck. He would replace it with something better, more expensive. His sub deserved diamonds. “Relax, Penelope. I’m going to open you up a bit.”

He lubed up the plug and then took a look at the petite hole he was going to fuck. Pretty and pink, and so tight he could already feel it strangling his cock.

She took a deep breath in, and he loved the way her spine straightened as she waited for him. She didn’t protest as he placed the plug against the rings of her hole, teasing it in tight circles.

He stared at that sweet hole, watching it fight him. He would win. She didn’t stand a chance against him. Patience was all that was required, patience and a steady hand. He had both. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

He loved to hear her talk about sex. She sounded like a dirty Victorian heroine.

“Pressure, Master. It feels weird and jangly and I don’t want it, but I know I really do.”

Because she trusted him. Because she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He pressed in a bit, gaining a centimeter before drawing the plug back out again. Her gasp of relief was short-lived because he pushed the plastic back in, deeper this time.

“I’m larger than the plug, Penelope.”

“I know that. Believe me, Master, I’m thinking about that fact right this very minute.” She panted a bit as he rounded the plug’s tip around her, the rings of her muscles tightening in a vain attempt to keep it out.

“I’ll fit, love. I’ll fit just fine.” His dick strained up, pre-come pulsing from his slit. He’d had her not five minutes before and he was already dying to be inside her again. He couldn’t imagine a time when he wouldn’t be desperate for her.

He pressed in again, her hole opening beautifully and the plug sliding in halfway. He held it there, allowing her to get used to the feeling. “I can fuck you with the plug inside and you’ll be so full. You’ll be packed tight and you’ll scream for your Master.”

She moaned as he forced the plug deep, burying it inside to the flat head that kept it anchored.

“Turn over. Don’t you lose that plug or I’ll know you need a bigger one.”

She moved carefully, gingerly twisting her body while clenching her cheeks together. The expression on her face was so sweet as she concentrated on doing his biding.

And she looked scrumptious. He hadn’t eaten all day. Not speaking to her had set off his appetite, but now it was back with a vengeance. “Spread your legs.”

“Master, if I spread my legs, I’ll likely lose the plug.”

Ah, the joys of torture. “That’s exactly what I intend for you to do, love. I intend for you to lose that plug and then I’ll smack your arse and maybe get out the ginger lube. That will teach you not to lose my plug.” He climbed on the bed, letting his hands slide up her legs. Curvy and petite. He loved how small she was compared to him. Feminine and yet solid. She could handle everything he wanted to give her.

Her whole body tightened. “You want me to fail. You want to punish me.”

It was his nature, but he liked a fair fight for the most part. “If you concentrate very hard, you can keep it in.” He licked his lips as he stared down at her pussy. So pretty.

A little laugh huffed out, making her chest rise and fall, her nipples peak. “You’re going to make it hell for me to concentrate, aren’t you?”

No one ever said she wasn’t smart. He moved her legs apart, cautiously, giving her the chance to adjust. Now that he was here, he kind of wanted to see her succeed. She was biting her lip, trying so hard. She tackled tasks he set for her with the single-minded determination of a pure type-A personality.

“Oh, yes, love. We’re going to play a game. I’m going to lick you and suck on your clit. I’m going to bite your nipples and make a feast of you, and if you keep the plug in, you’ll get a prize. If you don’t, you’ll get a bigger plug.”

“And what does my Master get?”

“Oh, your Master gets to taste you, and either way he’s still going to shove his cock in your virgin arse and fill you with his come.” He had to admit, the game was stacked in his favor. Either way, he won.

His cock split her labia, resting against her clit as he stared down at her. The eager bugger wanted back in, but he wasn’t in charge right now. Damon reached down and palmed her breasts, cupping them before he took her nipples between his fingers. He had more toys to torture her with.

“I think you’re beautiful, love. I mean for you to understand that. You’ll be even prettier with a bit of jewelry.” He reached for the clamps he’d set up. Tweezer clamps with a T-chain running through them.

“Oh, Master.” Her face tightened as he rubbed her nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

He leaned over and tongued her nipple, loving the way her skin tasted, inhaling her clean, feminine scent. He sucked the tip into his mouth, pulling hard. Her body tightened under his, her skin heating up. She moaned a little, her legs restless.

He switched to the other nipple, tonguing and sucking. When he was satisfied with her squirming, he got back to his knees. He took her nipple in his fingers and pinched down, bringing the blood to her peak before slipping the clamp on.

She gasped, her eyes widening.

“Very nice.” He played with the opposite nipple, toying with it before attaching the jewel. “See. You don’t need anything else. Well, maybe one more thing.”

He held up the final clamp, perfectly satisfied with the way her eyes widened.

“Where does that go, Master?” She asked the question with the deep suspicion of one who worried she already knew.

There was no point in telling her when he could show her. He got to his belly because he wasn’t going to pay any less attention to her clitoris than he had her nipples. It deserved some love before he tortured it.

He licked her clit, a long, slow pass of his tongue. He could still taste himself on her, knew his come would be inside her for a good long while.

“Master. Please, Master,” she panted out her pleas.

That was what he wanted to hear. He wanted her breathy cries, wanted her desperation. He wanted to hear her beg him. He wanted her so far from any worries or cares that all that existed in her head was pleasure.

He suckled her, letting his fingers part her flesh. She was still so wet, so warm and soft from her previous orgasm. Her clit was swollen, extended from behind its hood. It poked out, desperate for another bout of pleasure.

But he wasn’t giving it to her just yet.

He suckled her, taking her clit between his teeth and biting down gently.

She screamed. “Please. Please, Damon. Please more.”

And she graciously gave him the chance to punish her. He reached up and gently pulled the chain, making the clamps bite into her nipples.

Penelope gasped, losing her breath. “Master. Master. I meant Master.”

“Then you should say Master, love.” He gave it one more yank before setting it back down. The T-shaped chain looked beautiful against her skin. He smoothed it out, drawing the lower line down her sweetly curved belly toward the place where he would soon clip it to the final piece of jewelry. “For a woman who speaks so many languages, you seem to have a bit of trouble with English.”

“As long as I speak Damon Knight fluently, I think I’ll be all right, Master.”

So he spoke a different language, did he? She was probably right and he was fine with it. As long as Penelope could understand it, he didn’t give a damn if anyone else could.

“Are they too tight?” He focused on her clit again.

“They’re making me crazy, Master. It feels like you’re everywhere.”

That was the point. He wanted her aware of him. In her nipples, her pussy, her arse. He wanted to touch her everywhere at once.

He suckled her clit one last time before easing the clamp on. Very gently, he tightened it until it was a pearly jewel, throbbing just for him.

He got to his knees, looking down on his work. She was writhing, her muscles clenching, her pretty face desperate but filled with trust. She wasn’t fighting him. She was waiting for his pleasure, his discipline, anything he wanted to give her.

No one had ever trusted him the way Penelope did, and he had to do everything in his power to be worthy of that trust.

He couldn’t do that if he was bloody well dead because he wasn’t smart enough to know when to hang it up.