Mirror of My Soul Joey Hill (best books to read for women txt) 📖

Joseph had stepped over it with his more thorough regard. He had looked at her as he might a submissive. Tyler’s subtle though clear message had redrawn the line firmly. His submissive she might be, but to all other men she was to be treated as a Mistress. She stood a moment, absorbing that interesting change in her status, wondering if she should feel insulted by his championing. But then she drew in her breath, inhaling the environment of sex and power, control and trust and knew that in their world, lines had to be made clear. They walked close to the primitive line of conquering, taking, the civilized posturings of consent just shadows at their backs, easily forgotten if those lines got confusing.

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Mirror of My Soul

“Good. He’s well aroused then. Master Joseph, would you please ask Leila to keep Roland in her mouth, but she should no longer suck or lick him. I want her to hold him without moving.”

He gave the order and Leila stopped while Roland’s breath rasped erratically.

“I would like to reward your slave by making her come. May I have the pleasure?”

Whatever the assembled had been expecting, it was not that. She could tell by the surprise on Joseph’s face, the slight lifting of Tyler’s brow, the interest in Mac’s expression. Only Violet’s unwavering attention was unaffected, but with respect to that one, Marguerite knew she was being judged and measured. From Mac’s occasional

concerned glance in his Mistress’s direction, she knew she wasn’t the only one noticing it.

“It will be our pleasure to watch. A gift to us all.” Joseph nodded.

Because of her request, all the men in the room were now riveted by the tableau, even Roland putting his head at an angle where he could try his best to see as much as possible. She felt the male power wash over her like magical energy, an energy increased by the connection she felt with Violet in this moment despite their differences.

Two Mistresses in full command of the subs there. And, in a peculiar way, in command of the two Masters, with the power a woman fully encompassed in her sexual self could hold over anything male within distance. After all, there were not many myths about powerful Queens being brought to their knees by the sexual charisma of an island sorcerer, or male sirens singing a female captain to her doom.

Marguerite squatted next to Leila’s thigh and Roland’s hips. When she spread out her knees to balance herself, she knew the position would tighten the fabric over her ass in a seductive way. Tyler’s angle of vision was behind her though she’d settled far enough to the right he could easily see Leila’s wet pussy between her body and Joseph.

It was new, being conscious of where he was, wanting to be sure everything she did was at an angle where he could see her actions and be stimulated by them.

Leila watched her, her mouth stretched and still over Roland’s stiff cock. His flat stomach moved erratically above her forehead, reflecting how stimulated he was. There was power in this moment as well. While not objecting to it, if Leila had her druthers Marguerite suspected she would prefer not to have Marguerite bringing her to orgasm.

Marguerite respected her and what she had done for Tyler. But this moment wasn’t about civility. Tyler was hers now.

She’d selected a vibrating plug as well as a standard vibrator from Tyler’s well-stocked toy room. Even then she’d been very conscious of the way he watched her. As she’d picked up the different ones, run her fingers along the smooth flared heads to gauge the width of the base she wanted and chosen an oil lubricant that had an exotic scent like sex, his attention had been as tactile as his caresses.

Leila’s eyes shifted as she set both aside. Marguerite reached forward, laid one hand on the small of Roland’s back, the upper curve of his muscular buttock. “How are you, Roland?”

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“Ready to serve you, Mistress.” His voice was hoarse.

“She sucked your cock well for me, didn’t she?”

“Christ, yes. Mistress,” he added hastily.

Laying her hand on Leila’s breast, she cupped it, rubbed the nipple, her gaze going to its fullness, its perfection. “I’m going to make her come. You won’t come, though.

That will be your gift to me, when I allow it. You will listen to her come, feel her hot breath panting against the head of your cock, feel the back of her throat tremble against you when she lets go, the scrape of her teeth as she fights not to bite down and you will wait. Wait until I’m ready for you to explode at my command.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he groaned.

“Good.” Leila’s body was lifting to her touch, her back curving as Marguerite

skillfully pinched the nipple, squeezed the hard tip. At the same time, her fingers curled around Roland’s left buttock, nails tickling the fine hairs in the crease. Watching the muscles ripple along his back, bunched and restrained, trying not to upset the flower arrangement, was as much of a pleasure as seeing Leila’s hips press down and then lift up, an involuntary plea to be touched between her legs.

“God, but you do have beautiful tits.” Marguerite used the crude male word, her voice sensual and soft. “I remember one night when Tyler made you slip off the straps of your top and sit bare-breasted in the booth next to him, allowing all the Masters and Mistresses walking by the opportunity to enjoy looking at them. He made you cup them in your hands, play with the nipples until you were arched back in the booth, gasping.

At long last he put his hand beneath the table and just a moment later you came.

Moaning, unable to stop your cries, orgasm and embarrassment both coloring your fair skin. You’d been apprehensive about submitting to a Master’s desire to exhibit you publicly for His pleasure, and he was quite ruthlessly helping you