by Poppy Flynn
Joel took the empty mug and put it aside. "Lie on your stomach," he commanded, already pulling at the belt on the robe.
Desi rolled over before removing it, although she wasn't quite sure why it seemed important to keep herself covered at this point.
He draped the discarded robe across the ottoman at the foot of her bed and straddled her thighs, pinning her firmly underneath him, and Desi felt her stomach do a slow summersault. Yeah, she guessed that Jake had been right all along. Being dominated definitely did something for her. Looked like her submissive gene was well and truly entrenched. Why had she never realised that for herself, before now? Or had it just been that she had deliberately eradicated everything she associated with Joel when she had run away, regardless of whether it was something she identified with or not.
That was rather a sobering thought because she knew it to be true to some extent. She had thrown away her entire brightly coloured wardrobe and her beloved sculpture. She had altered her entire sunny personality. Not really because they were connected with Joel, but because they were part of the life that she believed people didn't take seriously. She had reinvented herself from scratch, and she was only now starting to realise that it had been a mistake to eliminate all of the things that had made her happy. Maybe it was time to start thinking about taking them back. Was it possible to start unravelling the sombre woman she'd become, after all this time?
Joel poured some oil onto his hands and started sweeping them across her back and shoulders. Desi sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. Boy, did that feel good. Her muscles started to ease under Joel's expert ministrations, and after another ten minutes, her eyes started to droop, both the mental and the physical exertion of the last few hours finally catching up with her.
Joel noticed the deepening of Desi's breathing and finished smoothing his fingertips across her sleek, tanned skin, admiring the few light welts that hadn't yet faded. They'd be gone by morning; he never struck any of his subs that harshly nor would he allow others to, though with Desi, unlike any other woman, he sometimes experienced the overwhelming temptation to mark her, indisputably, as his own. Not necessarily with a whip or a cane, although the idea certainly had some merits, but maybe with a permanent collar or even a ring.
It had always been that way with her. He felt it now just as he'd felt it eleven years ago. The fact that he wanted to, that he was tempted to let go of his control and surrender his soul, well, that was just another reason why he refused to let her get too close. She weakened him, undermined his restraint, left him exposed. And that simply wouldn't do.
The problem was that keeping his distance hadn't been working. For the last month, he'd been avoiding her, and when that wasn't an option, he'd kept her at arm's length, all their interactions strictly business.
And every time he had seen her, all he could think about was tying her up and carrying her off someplace where he could have his wicked way with her. It had been driving him nuts; he was constantly hard whenever she was in a room with him, and his concentration was shot to hell every time he looked at her. He'd spent as much time back at the head office as he could possibly justify, simply so he didn't have to tolerate his own weakness.
He'd even gone to Club Risqué with the sole intent of breaking his self-imposed abstinence and finding himself a sub whom he could take out his frustrations with.
The trouble was that every single one he considered just hadn't been Desi. None of them had fired his enthusiasm…or even his cock, and that had pissed him off even more.
After he had flown in earlier and decided to check out the subs at 'Perversions', he had almost thought that he'd started hallucinating, as well, when he saw her there in a corset that plumped her already generous breasts and those tiny little shorts that cuddled her gorgeous, curvy ass, and finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He'd stormed straight to the booking desk and had reserved a room for the entire night, determined to get Desi out of his system once and for all.
He'd almost convinced himself that nothing could be as good as he remembered, that she would never manage to conform to his impossibly high standards of perfection.
Of course, she'd proved him wrong, yet again. Looked like he'd have to come up with a different tactic.
Just as well he had one in mind, in the style of that old adage 'familiarity breeds contempt'. He and Desi were about to get very familiar.
Desi awoke to the hot flame of desire licking through her veins. She had slept soundly and way better than she had for many weeks now, but never had she woken to this all-consuming, gut wrenching lust. Her breasts felt heavy and her thighs were already slick with her need. As she went to move her hands down her body to try and alleviate the ache, she realised her arms were pinned above her head, and her pulse leaped even higher. Her eyes flew open to absolute darkness, and as her awareness expanded, she realised that it wasn't night but a blindfold. Her wrists were secured together with what felt like a silk scarf, and she shuddered in anticipation.
Joel could tell the very second that Desi came fully awake, because her whole body stilled and she became silent, despite the fact that he hadn't said a word, not given her a single command and didn't intend to. In her semiconscious state, she had writhed and let out breathy little moans as he'd stroked and played with her body, and he found the sudden change quite fascinating.
He bent his head to an already damp nipple and continued his ministrations where he'd left off, taking the taut bud into his mouth and suckling fiercely. His hand found her other breast and thumbed the tip to a peak before he pinched it between his fingers and twisted her tender flesh. He felt her stomach muscles jump involuntarily, but otherwise, she didn't move, didn't make a sound. He grazed his teeth against the nipple in his mouth, biting wickedly, and wondered how much pressure he'd have to exert before she would cry out. He was tempted to experiment, but she was stubborn and he didn't really want to hurt her. Not that much, anyway. Not right now.
Without his bag, Joel had to improvise somewhat. There was a marked lack of toys in Desi's bedroom with the exception of a single, unexceptional vibrator. It was a little on the small side, but at least the batteries were good.
He'd found a scarf to tie her wrists and a sleep mask to use as a blindfold, although it had a cartoonlike pair of wide awake eyes printed on one side which kind of creeped him out, so he'd had to turn it the opposite way 'round. He found himself wondering about it, too, since it didn't seem like the kind of thing that Desirae would have in her life these days.
From her kitchen, he'd found a slotted, metal fish slice with a good handle and a narrow silicon spatula that could have been custom made as an impact toy. He'd even discovered a fluted pastry wheel. It had reminded him that Daisy had always loved to cook, even though Desi's kitchen didn't look as if it got much use.
Picking up a couple of pegs that he'd found in her laundry room, Joel paused in his attention to her breasts so he could clip them onto her nipples.
Desi's features tightened fractionally when he applied the first, and he guessed from the tiny movement of her jaw that she had bitten the inside of her lip. The hitch in her breath was more of a pause than a noise, and when it came to the second peg, she didn't betray herself in the slightest. Her stillness caused Joel to flick at each of the makeshift clamps, just for the hell of it, but he knew better than to think he'd get a response.
He tested the pastry wheel against the back of his own hand to get a feel for the pressure he needed to use; it wasn't too sharp, and although it lacked the pins, it would work well as an improvised wartenberg pinwheel. He tried the implement on the fullness of her breasts and was pleased with the little zigzag pattern it left on her skin. The mark faded quickly but was still quite satisfying, so he drove the little implement over all the fleshy parts of her body.
Desi had no idea what Joel was using, but whatever he drew along her body left the sensation that he had raked his nails lightly all over her, sensitising every inch so that her flesh started to tingl
e wherever he had been, and it wasn't long before a familiar frustration settled on her and she found herself craving more. Patience, she cautioned herself. Joel would satisfy her in his own good time. One thing she knew for certain was that Joel never danced to anyone else's tune. Desi vividly remembered the weeks of training she had endured, when Joel would tease her into a frenzy until she thought she couldn't stand it anymore, but if she wriggled or begged, he would just stop everything, only to start all over again, and again, and again, taking her to the edge of fulfilment but never allowing her to topple over. Desi was a quick learner. It hadn't taken long for her body to work out that release came quicker if she just kept quiet and still. And as Joel had promised, her orgasms were all the more powerful for the suspense. It was second nature to her now. A decade may have passed, but the lessons were ingrained.
Joel put the pastry wheel aside and picked up the silicone spatula with a feral smile. It was super flexible and less than an inch wide. He might have to buy himself one of these to add to his toy bag because it was just perfect. Starting on the underside of her arms as they stretched over her head, Joel brought the little kitchen tool down on her skin. It made a gratifying slapping sound that he knew would be worse than the actual bite, and her blood rushed to the surface of her skin, leaving a little imprint in the distinctive shape of the spatula head—straight on one edge and curved on the other. The pattern pleased him so much that he went to work creating art on her skin, matching each arm, arching across the top of both breasts, following the gentle curve of her stomach from her right breast to her left hip in an 'S' shape and alternate steps down the outside and the inside of her thighs. Joel was engrossed; her body was his canvas. Who knew kitchen equipment could be so much fun?
Desi floated on the tiny licks of pain, each little flick winding her tighter, getting her hotter until her flesh virtually fizzled. The ache in her pussy intensified, especially when he printed the design down the inside of her thighs. He was so close, if he just shifted ever so slightly. As if he could read her mind, he stopped. He paused, adjusted, then brought whatever he was using down hard on her clit. Just once. The next second, the fire was eased as the broad, flat of his tongue wet her flesh and he blew, repeating the action again and again as he slowly drew her knees up and open. Her pussy wept and clenched, searching for fulfilment until he finally inserted a single digit inside her and crooked it lightly against her g-spot.
She tamped down the desire to swivel her pelvis, to deepen his touch, to encourage him to apply another digit. She wanted to scream; it just wasn't quite enough, she wanted more, needed more. Damn it, why didn't he just give her more!
Her skin was on fire, her stomach clenched so hard, it felt like a huge band had been wound tighter and tighter around her insides; her sex throbbed and dripped, desperate to be filled. She parted her lips so she could breathe through her mouth and get more air. She felt like she was about to burst with frustration.
Then, suddenly, Joel was seated inside her and the relief was so immediate that she let out the rest of her breath in a quiet rush. She heard him chuckle gleefully, and the next moment, he grasped her calves and forced her legs up in front of her, crossing her ankles and gripping them with both hands as he rose to his knees and started pounding away as if the hounds of Hell were chasing him.
Her insides started to coil all over again, the peak rushing towards her so fast, but before she could make the leap, Joel pulled out just as suddenly as he had begun.
Desi clenched her jaw and was glad the blindfold hid the way she screwed her eyes up at the disappointment. 'Don't say anything, don't say anything, don't say anything.' She mentally repeated the litany in a herculean effort to keep herself balanced.
A moment later, Joel was rolling her over and manoeuvring her body onto all fours. There was enough slack in the scarf that bound her wrists to allow her to balance on her elbows, but she had barely steadied herself in the new position when a swish sounded through the air and a blaze of fire seared the skin of her right buttock. Her thighs flexed slightly; she simply couldn't help it, and she heard Joel's dark chuckle once again, just before the next blow landed on the other side. Clearly, he was taking great delight in pushing her to the limit of her control.
Joel peppered Desi's lush, curvy backside with swipes from the fish slice. The slots and holes in its surface left satisfying patterns all over her ass that reminded him of Morse code.
He didn't pull his strikes this time, knowing she was already well into subspace and could take whatever he dished out. He was still careful, but he let fly and rained pain on her butt and thighs, satisfying his own inner demon.
His cock was as stiff as a pole and he longed to just bury it inside her warmth, but he tormented himself, too, irritated that he had forgotten to don a condom when he'd ploughed inside her before. He knew she was clean because he'd checked her medical records, but there were more severe consequences than STDs. He took out his annoyance on her backside, then realising he was now thrashing her more in in temper than carnality, he launched the metal tool across the room in disgust, furious with himself for losing it not just once, but now twice. How the hell did she do this to him? Tie his gut up in knots and make him forget his common sense? He wasn't some fucking horny teenager anymore, and he wasn't an inexperienced baby Dom who didn't know any better.
Joel tamped down his anger at himself and buried the urge to punish Desi for making him lose control. That was just fucking bollocks. He was the master of his own destiny. No one made him do anything. If he lost control, then that was on him, and it was down to him to make sure it didn't happen again!
Sheathing himself with jerky, economical movements, Joel reached for the vibrator and the bottle of massage oil, lubing up the toy before he flipped the switch and set the vibrating tip against the pucker of her ass. He watched her buttocks flex and felt the same surge of satisfaction as he had felt earlier, that urge to push her until she cracked, until she kicked and screamed and begged. He didn't understand it. His entire adult life, he had prized control above all else, had demanded unrealistic degrees of silence and stillness from his subs, which most found impossible to maintain, and yet when Desi gave him exactly what he coveted above all else, here he was craving the idea of shattering the very restraint he had insisted upon.
He forced those thoughts away; he couldn't deal with them right now. Another thing for him to take out and examine later, along with the dozens of others he kept pushing to the back of his mind and refusing to acknowledge, subconsciously terrified that he wouldn't like the answer.
Instead, he placed his hand at the base of her spine and flicked the vibrator off, concentrated instead on slipping it inside her ass.
Desi clenched her abdominal muscles and blew a slow breath through her lips in an effort to relax. It was on the tip of her tongue to shout her safe word, but she tried to shift her brain into logical thought before she acted out of fear. Easier said than done, of course, after spending so long as a mindless mass of quivering flesh. It wasn't that she disliked anal sex, but it had been newly introduced to her just as she and Joel had split up eleven years ago, and she'd never gone there since, so it was almost like the first time again.
Joel still retained his silence. He hadn't said a word since he'd woken her and he still didn't. Desi racked her brain to remember what he had told her all those years ago.
Relax the muscles and don't fight the intrusion. Desi made a conscious effort to quit clenching as Joel pushed the bullet shaped tip through the tight band of muscles. He didn't play around, simply exerted a firm, even pressure on the vibe. Desi could feel the burn as it widened and stretched her. She embraced the pain until it morphed into something deeper and darker and more pleasurable, when it suddenly breached the ring and popped all the way in.
Joel didn't move the vibrator once it was in place; he simply held it there and thumbed the switch back on.
Desi felt the vibrations all the way up her spine and deep in her core, and a decade
nt heaviness enveloped her limbs, but it still wasn't enough. She sighed soundlessly when she realised Joel had donned a condom. Not much longer, not much longer now, she told herself over and over again.
This time, Joel slipped inside her excruciatingly slowly, and it seemed like forever until he was fully seated. Then he, too, stayed completely still, and Desi groaned internally in exasperation. Curling himself around her back, Joel reached around and released both of the pegs on her nipples at the same time.
Desi gasped in a breath and clenched around him as her circulation was restored and a pulsing hurt clamoured in sharp needles along her nerve endings and her breasts swelled in response. Joel rolled her abused tips between his fingers and then massaged each breast heavily as a prickly heat bloomed across her entire body, sending a tingling sensation right to her toes. She willed him to move, to ease the throbbing ache that had settled between her thighs. Her internal muscles pulled at him; she didn't have enough control to stop them, and when he eventually pulled slowly back out again, she thought she might just collapse into a soggy pool of longing. A tiny noise slipped past her lips when Joel began to move but his response was incendiary and he pounded into her core like a jack hammer.
Desi didn't know how much longer she could hold out; her breath was short and came in little pants. Her arms and legs trembled with the exertion of denying her orgasm; beneath the blindfold, her eyes were scrunched tightly closed, but Joel still didn't speak. Was he ever going to? What did that even mean?
Joel felt his balls draw up and a tell-tale tingle in his spine; he was about to come, but Desi was still holding out. He wasn't such a bastard that he could find his own completion and leave her hanging, waiting for a command he never gave, so he dragged in a breath and roared, "Now!"