MaidforMaster Read online

  Maid for Master

  Nina Pierce

  Treat herself to a carnal weekend at the hedonistic retreat, XTC Resorts? That’s not something Claire Calderwood, a three-time loser in the relationship department, would ordinarily do. But at forty-one, having a successful cleaning business is no longer enough. She wants a chance to let go of all responsibility, submit to a stranger’s sexual demands and satisfy her darkest fantasies.

  Jonathon Brierton has known his best friend’s sister long enough to recognize her submissive nature. He would like nothing more than to have Claire bound naked and at the mercy of his flogger as he teaches her the sensual art of obeying her Master. At thirty-something, he’s a successful real estate developer, owner of a BDSM resort—and hopelessly in love with the older woman.

  When Claire follows him to his resort, Jonathon is certain he can keep his identity secret long enough to convince her that being restrained in his stocks is something that will satisfy them both. But lies, deceit and broken hearts may not be so easy to overcome.

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Maid for Master

  ISBN 9781419932557

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Maid for Master Copyright © 2011 Nina Pierce

  Edited by Mary Moran

  Cover art by Syneca

  Electronic book publication January 2011

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Maid for Master

  Nina Pierce

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Wizard of Oz: Turner Entertainment Co.

  Chapter One

  Jesus. Even though Jonathon Brierton wasn’t particularly religious he prayed for Divine intervention. Not that he wanted any lightning strikes or halos of light illuminating the shadowed corner of the club where he’d hidden himself, but a little more help in the patience department would certainly go a long way at the moment. It went against his baser nature to sit back and wait rather than walking over and convincing the copper-haired beauty leaning over the railing across the way to put on his collar and join him in one of the private dungeons below.

  She was a natural submissive. He felt it in every fiber of his being. Claire Calderwood just didn’t know it—or at the very least—was unwilling to accept that part of herself. Jon just needed to come up with a plan of action that didn’t scare the living shit out of her to convince her she needed this—and him.

  “Are you too focused on your next conquest to be good company?” Ethan Jacobs, the manager of the XTC Resorts here in Key West, didn’t really need an invitation and slid into the padded chair next to Jon without waiting for an answer. His crisp white shirt and the knife-edged creases of his black dress pants were in sharp contrast to the yards of leather and miles of naked flesh displayed by most of the patrons of Paradise Cove. “You weren’t exaggerating, my friend. She is exquisite.”

  He didn’t need to ask whom Ethan referred to. The manager had personally checked Claire and Jon into their separate suites earlier in the day. “And scared,” Jon said. Even from this distance he could see it play across the tremble of Claire’s lips and the nervous fingers toying with her hair. He’d expected that. It just grated that he could do nothing at the moment to help her overcome it.

  “But she’s here tonight and completely mesmerized by the scene in the public dungeon.”

  “Only step one, my friend.” Jon pulled his gaze from Claire. There was no sense torturing himself. It would be a half-hour or more before the Doms and subs in the open arena below would finish playing out their scenes. Their interactions were intense, and he had no doubt the private rooms one floor below would be filled with eager players following the show. He intended to be in one of them with Claire. He had the room already reserved and set up for her. Until then, he needed to bide his time. “And there is the small detail of her not knowing exactly who I am,” Jon added quietly.

  Ethan stared at him, the questions etched in the deep V between his manicured brows. “I’m pretty sure she mentioned you were on vacation together.”

  Jon lifted his glass of tonic water, the ice long melted. “Correction, she booked a vacation to Paradise Cove with her fiancé.” He gulped the last of the tepid drink but couldn’t dislodge the lump of guilt clogging his throat. “The man conveniently broke off the engagement at the last minute and cancelled his trip. I slipped in, managed to convince her to keep her plans and allow me to tag along.” He set the glass down. “But Claire believes she’s here with Jonathon Brierton. She knows nothing of Master Xavier.”

  Ethan fell back in his chair, his baritone laughter rolling in rhythm with the pounding beat of the background music. “That would explain the whole ‘pretend the boss isn’t here’ charade you’re trying to pull off this weekend.”

  Their easy friendship relaxed the knot in Jon’s shoulders. “It didn’t occur to you I might actually just want a vacation?”

  “At one of your own fetish resorts? Hardly.” Ethan scoffed.

  A submissive on staff delivered beverages to their table and knelt obediently on the floor beside Ethan. Naked, save for the black leather circling her neck, wrist and ankles, and the silver-and-gem-studded chains hanging stylishly from her nipple and clitoral clips, the woman was a breathtaking vision in her docility. Normally the sight would have piqued the Dom clamoring inside Jonathon, but tonight there was only one submissive he ached to dominate.

  Seeing Jon’s lack-luster response to their waitress, Ethan brushed his hand down the silky length of blonde hair. “Thank you, Thalia. Give me a few minutes with Master Xavier and I will be sure your patience is rewarded.” The woman purred under his ministrations and promises. Despite his impeccable appearance, Ethan was a Master in every sense of the word. He was as capable of disciplining a petulant submissive as he was satisfying a disgruntled guest. Jon couldn’t have asked for a better friend to oversee the day-to-day operations of Paradise Cove.

  He’d met Ethan fourteen years ago in college when the two of them had trained together, honing their Dom skills at a fetish club in Chicago. When Jon had decided to open his first Xavier Touring Club Resort, XTC for short, eight years ago here in Key West, it had been Ethan who had helped him hand-pick the staff. Every Dom and Dominatrix, every submissive down to the housekeeping staff, willingly satisfied the desires of any vacationer here at Paradise Cove. It was Ethan’s attention to detail that kept even the most demanding clients coming back time and time again.

  The carnal cries of orgasm rose from the d
ungeon, drawing a collective sigh of release from the crowd at the railing. Jon couldn’t help but stare at the startled O of Claire’s plump lips and wide-eyed fascination. He hoped like hell he hadn’t called this whole thing wrong. The second-guessing stabbed at his confidence. It was an unfamiliar feeling. But then again, he wasn’t sure he’d ever had so much at stake in a seduction.

  Ethan touched his arm, bringing Jon’s attention back to him. “You, my friend, seem a little preoccupied with her reactions. I think there are a few details about this woman you haven’t shared.”

  “She’s the sister of a friend back in Indiana.” Jon shrugged.

  “And?” Ethan dragged the question out, nonchalantly rubbing at the beaded moisture on his glass.

  “And I felt bad after what she’d been through with this latest loser and offered to escort her here.”

  “And…” Ethan pressed again, the staged indifference gone from his tone.

  “And I’m totally, helplessly in love with the woman, and she doesn’t know I exist. Is that the confession you’re pushing for, Ethan?”

  Ethan held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I was just asking.”

  Jon softened. There weren’t many secrets between them. Ethan understood Jon sometimes better than he knew himself. It was hard to hold on to masks when everything was stripped bare in a dungeon.

  “Truth is, she looks right through me, Ethan, and I’m tired of it.” Anger and frustration punched up against disappointment and resolve, rolling together with a longing that knotted hard and hot in Jon’s gut. “Twenty-some-odd years we’ve known each other. She’s been walking in my fantasies since I first took fist to cock in high school. But in all that time, she sees me as nothing more than her kid brother’s best friend.” Jon finished his drink in two great swallows. “Hell, I stopped being that a decade ago when I graduated from college and walked away from the frat.”

  “You’re not friends anymore?”

  “Ryan and I? Hell yeah, we’re still friends, even though we’ve disagreed over the years about what was best for his sister on the relationship front.”

  “He doesn’t want you to be with her?”

  Jon shook his head and took a long swallow of tonic water, trying to cool the heat of frustration. “It’s not something I’ve ever talked to him about. Hell, I didn’t even admit my own addiction to Claire until recently.”

  “So what’s to disagree about?”

  “Her brother wants someone to take care of her. But that’s not what Claire needs. She keeps hooking up with men who don’t understand what she wants. And all the while I’ve had to sit back and watch a marriage and two long-term relationships implode. I’ve been there every step of the way as she raised a baby to manhood. I’ve seen her turn a one-woman housekeeping gig into a full-fledge cleaning corporation with nothing but stubborn determination and perseverance. She’s as strong as any woman I know, and those selfish assholes she gave her heart to over the years had no idea what they had when she was with them. Claire can take care of herself.”

  He swallowed another gulp of water, raking trembling fingers through his hair. “She deserves someone who appreciates what she offers and gives it back tenfold in return,” he added quietly.

  “And you’re determined to give it to her?”

  “Why shouldn’t I?” Jon’s hand came down hard on the table. “Jesus, Ethan, you sound like everyone else. If I hear one more time that she’s too old for—”

  “Jonathon.” Even Thalia jumped at the harsh bark of his name. It was only her years of training that kept her eyes politely averted from the two Doms. “What I was going to say,” Ethan continued, lowering his volume but not the potency of his message, “is that she’s lucky to have you be the one to give her this gift.”

  “Oh.” The fight went out of Jon as he turned to stare at Claire’s wide-eyed innocence once more. “I only hope she thinks that’s the case.”

  * * * * *

  Sensory overload.

  It was all Claire could think as she worked hard to relax her bulging eyes and keep her jaw from unhinging. The scene below was both all she expected and nothing she ever dared imagine. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know this was what Paradise Cove would be like. It was everything and more than XTC Resorts promised on its website. But seeing it in the brochures didn’t compare to experiencing it in person. It was definitely a sinful banquet for her senses that Claire hadn’t anticipated.

  All sense of time had disappeared. Her world had become narrowly focused on the seven people below, her pounding heartbeat thrumming to the pulse of the rock music and the cries of pain and ecstasy emanating from the public dungeon.

  Two men were removing a woman from the stand where she’d been stripped naked and bound. The flogging she’d taken had been masterfully administered and soothed away by a skillful Dom who had finally allowed her the multiple orgasms her taut body craved. With each strike of the whip, the submissive’s eyes had glazed with euphoria. Claire’s body tensed with each whispered word of praise and gentle caress from her Master. Her thighs were slick with cream and even squeezing them together couldn’t relieve the heavy ache of her pussy. Even when the woman’s Master had finally granted permission, and the submissive’s lithe body spasmed in ecstasy, her cries lifting to blanket the enthralled spectators, Claire couldn’t cool the heat jumping over her nerves.

  She’d fantasized about being a sexual slave to a man’s desires for a long time now. She’d even taken the time to buy a couple of books on the D/s lifestyle. Those few times she’d tried to communicate her desires to her partners had turned into nothing more than mindless rutting that had left her feeling empty and used. Being tied to a bed while her boyfriend satisfied his fantasies wasn’t the same as the give and take of consensual passion happening below.

  Her hope had been to share this weekend with her fiancé so they could both learn from the experience of others. But Claire understood better than most that plans had a way of disintegrating dreams.

  How she’d managed to let her baby brother’s best friend talk her into keeping her plans still baffled her. Adjusting the butterfly mask, she cast a quick glance around. Claire wasn’t sure she’d survive if she ran into Jonny here at the fetish club of all places. She hoped he was neck-deep in some hot tub with a good-looking co-ed. Goodness knows, she didn’t know what she’d say if he found her strutting around in the barely there leather bra and skirt and heavy knee-high biker boots she’d found in her closet. She would be mortified if he told Ryan of her foolishness. Surely, she’d never hear the end of it. But this vacation wasn’t about her brother Ryan, Jonny or her fiancé or anything else she’d left behind in Indiana. It was about Claire and giving herself permission to let loose and give in to her fantasies.

  Throwing her shoulders back, Claire forced away the gloomy thoughts and turned her attention back to the dungeon. A man hung face-up by a series of knotted ropes. His arms and legs were stretched wide, exposing his torso and genitals to tempting possibilities. Clamps had earlier been applied to his nipples and inner thighs, and a plug inserted in his rectum. He had remained suspended and blindfolded, only able share the woman’s pleasure and pain through her cries of ecstasy. Now two Doms maneuvered a pulley system, lowering him to waist level. Strong hands stroked over sensitive flesh. His cock and balls, restrained in a tight leather harness, swelled against its bindings, anticipation putting everyone on the edge of their seats.

  “Are you enjoying the show?”

  A male voice, thick and rich as honeyed molasses shivered down her spine. When Claire attempted to turn, he pressed into her back. His face nestled against her neck so that only a whisper separated his lips from the shell of her ear.

  “Don’t turn. Just answer. Are. You. Enjoying. The. Show?”

  He spoke softly, each word enunciated clearly. It was such a simple question and delivered with such intensity, Claire could barely fill her lungs. The hard planes of his chest pressed against her. Muscular thighs ran along the
back of her legs and against her ass. Gooseflesh rose where his breath caressed her neck. It was all she could do not to lean into the man.

  “I… Well… I…”

  “Yes. Or. No?”

  Power buffeted her but didn’t smother. Rather than drowning, Claire felt swaddled in the absolute security of this man. Her nipples steepled, pressing hard against zippers running along the soft leather cup of her bra. And when she inhaled to speak, the clean scent of soap and fresh air filled her nose. “Yes.”

  “Very good.” His hands came up to rest on the railing on either side of Claire, enclosing her further in his embrace. Adrenaline pumped heat through her veins, thrumming her pulse and stealing her breath. But this was no fight or flight response, quite the opposite in fact.

  “Now tell me,” he continued, his cadence a hypnotic song that stole all coherent thought. “Which person below would you like to switch places with—the man bound and at the mercy of his Masters, hungrily sucking cock, or the Dom wielding the crop and preparing to fuck his slave?”

  “The one bound.” She barely pushed the words out of her mouth. Even in this room, with so many willingly giving so much, her cravings seemed dark and unnatural.

  “There is no shame in admitting your desires. We want only to please everyone here at Paradise Cove.” He paused, and all Claire could do was nod in affirmation as the second Dom slid his cock deep in the submissive’s ass, all three men shuddering with the act.

  “Do you think that slave below isn’t content satisfying his Masters?” he asked. “See how each strike of the crop stirs a reaction in all of them? They are a unit seeking the right balance between giving and taking.”

  His words were spoken in rhythm with the submissive’s rocking, one cock filling the man’s mouth while the other pulled out of his ass only to have the ropes carry him in the opposite direction, impaling the slave again on his Master’s erection. The slurping sounds of sex mingled with the captivating male groans of ecstasy, and Claire wasn’t sure if her knees wouldn’t have buckled without the support of the stranger behind her.