by M. S. Parker
I shook my head, hands curling into fists. “No. I learned what happens when I force my…preferences on someone. I won’t do that to you.”
She stared at me for a moment, then her eyes narrowed. “That bitch.”
Okay, not what I expected.
“That’s what Mitzi said you did to her.”
Paige was furious, but not with me.
“I know you, Reb, and you’d never force yourself on someone. If she would’ve said no, you would’ve listened.”
“Of course I would’ve listened.”
“She’s full of shit,” Paige insisted. Her expression became sly. “Besides, how am I going to learn if you won’t teach me?”
“Teach you?”
She nodded, heat smoldering in her eyes. “I’m willing to risk it if you are, but you have to put it all on the line too.”
Twenty-Six
Paige
My stomach was in knots and I didn’t know what to do with my hands. Reb had been in my shower for ten minutes, and I doubted he’d be much longer. At least, I hoped he wouldn’t be. I was starting to have doubts about my decision. Not the one to give Reb a second chance, but the one where I was going to have sex with him when he got out of the shower.
Kinky sex.
Romance wasn’t my favorite genre, but I’d read a few over the years, including some that had a little S&M in them. Reading about it, however, and actually doing it were two completely different things. Hell, seeing it live and doing it myself were worlds apart.
“I thought I gave you clear instructions about how you were supposed to wait for me.”
I froze. I’d been so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn’t heard the shower stop or the bathroom door open, and now, my brain was scrambling to make sense of what Reb was saying.
“Turn around, Paige.”
It was a command, not a request, but the sort of demand I heard wasn’t some sort of misogynistic power-trip. I’d heard that same authoritative note in the woman’s voice at Gilded Cage when she’d ordered her men around. It was the voice of a Dominant, regardless of gender.
I turned to face him, heat flooding my body as I saw he wore only a towel around his waist. I wasn’t so noble that I didn’t feel a thrill at the realization that this gorgeous man wanted me.
“Did I, or did I not, say that I wanted you naked when I got out of the shower?”
The unadulterated desire shining in his eyes made my mouth dry and my pussy wet.
“Paige.” My name was a warning.
“Yes.” The word was little more than a whisper. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Yes, you did.”
“Then why aren’t you naked?”
The question was casual, almost as if he’d been asking why I didn’t have an umbrella when it was raining. Then he tossed his towel toward my hamper and, even though I’d seen him naked before, I completely lost the ability to think clearly.
I suddenly became aware that Reb was talking to me. I jerked my head up, cheeks flaming.
“I suppose I’ll give you a pass for not listening that time,” he said with an amused smile. “But you still haven’t done as you were told.”
I kept my eyes on him as I pulled my shirt over my head. I folded it and put it on the dresser, then took off my pants and did the same.
“Good girl.” He didn’t look away as he walked toward me, his hand dropping to his cock. “Now, face the bed and bend over.”
“What?”
He stopped less than a foot away from me. “You said you wanted me to be honest about the things that I want.”
I nodded. “I do.”
He reached out and took a lock of hair between his fingers. “You know a bit about BDSM. Do you know what happens when a sub disobeys their Dom?”
I shivered, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. “They get punished.”
He nodded. “They get punished. And I’m a Dom, Paige. What does that make you?”
I understood now what he was doing. Part of this was sexual, but part of it was making sure that I truly knew what I was getting into.
“I’m the sub.”
He moved a few inches closer, and I could smell my shampoo and soap. It smelled better on him.
“Whose sub, Paige? Whose sub are you?”
I swallowed hard. “Yours.”
He leaned down and brushed his lips across mine. “And what did you do?”
The words came easier than I’d expected. “I disobeyed.”
He nodded. “Yes, you did.” After a pause, he added, “What should I do about that?”
My mind immediately flashed back to what I’d seen at the club. If I gave the answer I knew he wanted, I didn’t know exactly what he was going to do, and the possibilities weren’t equally appealing. Which meant I needed to trust him.
“Punish me,” I whispered.
For a moment, he stared at me, as if he couldn’t believe I’d actually said it, and then he pulled me to him, skin against skin as our mouths crashed together. I moaned as he ravaged my mouth, his fingers digging into the small of my back, into my neck. I thought I’d known how powerful he was before, but it was nothing compared to the strength I felt in his body now.
By the time he finally broke the kiss, it was all I could do not to jump him right then and there. My entire body ached. His cock was hard and hot against my stomach, leaving a trail of pre-cum on my skin as he moved a few inches back. His eyes dropped, and he used his thumb to rub the salty liquid into my skin.
“I like the idea of you wearing my cum.” His hand moved up to my breast, and he squeezed hard enough to make me catch my breath, but not quite hard enough to actually hurt. “But not tonight.”
He took a full step back and raised an eyebrow. I almost asked him what he wanted, but then I remembered. I turned around, took a slow breath, and then bent over. I placed my hands flat on the blanket…and waited.
“Each Dom has their own way of doling out punishments,” he said. “Even my friends and I don’t come at things the same way.”
He was staying just out of my line of sight, and I had no doubt he was doing it intentionally. Using anticipation to ramp up the tension.
“I believe in punishments growing in time and intensity, so for this first offense, I’ll be using my hand.”
I flinched as he touched me, but his palm only rested against the top of my ass.
“You need a safe word.”
His tone had changed, and I immediately felt guilty for flinching. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s usually not a good safe word.”
“For flinching,” I clarified. “It wasn’t fear, just nerves.” I risked a look over my shoulder. “I trust you.”
The tension on his face eased. “Thank you.”
“Bananas.”
He gave me a puzzled look.
“My safe word. Bananas.”
He nodded, amusement dancing in his eyes. “All right then. Let’s begin.”
I nodded and faced front again. The next time his hand came down, it wasn’t a touch. His palm hit my ass with a cracking sound, and I gasped. More blows came, one right after the other, alternating from one side to the other until my ass was burning. The pain wasn’t unbearable, more like a sunburn sort of sensitivity and sting, but it was definitely intense.
“All done.” His voice was almost gentle as he ran his hand up my spine. “Now, my Paige, what will you do when I give you an order?”
“Obey.” I closed my eyes and concentrated on his touch. The heat of his hand, so different from the more pleasant feeling a little farther south.
“Good answer.” His hands settled on my hips, thumbs stroking my skin. “I didn’t bring any condoms with me tonight.”
This was about more than him just checking to make sure I was okay with us not using a condom. This was about whether or not I really did trust him. If I thought he was lying and he’d had sex with Mitzi, I wouldn’t want him inside me bare.
“I don’t want anything betwe
en us…fuck!” The curse burst out of me as he buried himself deep with one stroke. I wasn’t even close to use to this, but I sure as hell didn’t want him to stop.
He wound his hand in my hair, using it to leverage me as he drove into me with one thrust after another. Each one drove another cry from my lips even as the air escaped my lungs. I curled my fingers into fists, the comforter keeping my nails from my palms.
“I’m going to fuck you in front of a mirror sometime,” Reb broke the silence. “I want to see every expression on your face when I take you from behind.”
His free hand moved underneath me, pinching my nipple between finger and thumb hard enough to send a jolt of pain through me. He held on to my sensitive flesh, even as my breasts moved with the force of his thrusts, causing new little ripples of pain with each stroke.
“I love these tits. Perfect nipples for clamps.” His hand moved down between my legs, fingers finding my clit. “We’ll try those out before we move on to putting one on this pretty little thing.”
I whimpered at the thought of something pinching my clit as hard as he was holding my nipple. But I wanted it. Him spanking me had turned me on more than I’d realized, and I knew he could show me things that I’d never find with anyone else. Because I’d never let anyone else this close.
“I’m going to fuck your ass one day.” He spoke so matter-of-factly that it took a moment for his words to sink in. “And then we’re going to try some double penetration.” Before I could react, he leaned over and put his mouth against my ear. “Don’t worry, my Paige. I don’t plan on ever sharing you with anyone. But there are ways to have just as much fun.”
I groaned as he bit down on my shoulder, then shouted his name as he pressed his fingers hard against my clit, forcing me over the edge. My arms shook, elbows giving out as an orgasm ripped through me. I yelped as his grip on my hair tightened, holding me in place as he slammed into me one more time.
As he came, he said only two words.
“Thank you.”
Twenty-Seven
Reb
I’d dozed a bit after I’d cleaned us up and put us to bed. I’d always taken good care of the subs I’d fucked, but I hadn’t literally gone to bed with them. I hadn’t wanted to give them the wrong impression. Occasionally, I’d fallen asleep after sex, but Mitzi had been the only other woman I’d ever consciously chosen to go to sleep with, and only then occasionally. Those nights, I’d hardly been able to rest, constantly aware of her presence, and not in a good way. It had been uncomfortable, something to endure rather than enjoy.
Waking up with Paige in my arms again wasn’t like that at all.
She was curled into me, her back against my chest. We were both still naked, and I was hyperaware of all the places where our skin touched. Being with her was so different than being with anyone else. Not because she was inexperienced. She looked past my image to see me, rather than looking past me to see my image, and now, knowing the sort of baggage she had when it came to guys like me, I was even more impressed.
Now, as I brushed some hair back from her face, I allowed myself to acknowledge that what I felt for her was much deeper than wanting, more selfless than needing. I was falling in love with her.
The thought should have terrified me. I’d never said that to any woman who wasn’t family. Not really. I’d said ‘love ya’ and ‘right back at you’ to Mitzi a few times near the end when she’d been saying it to me almost every day, but I’d never flat out said ‘I love you’ or ‘I’m falling in love with you’ to her. Want had been the word I’d used when it came to my feelings for her.
The bedroom was dark, leaving Paige’s features in shadows, but I didn’t need light to see her. I knew her face and body as well as my own.
I kissed her shoulder and pulled the blankets more snuggly around us both. I was tempted to use my fingers and tongue to wake her, then slip into her from behind and take her nice and slow. My stomach clenched at the thought, and my interested cock when from half-hard to uncomfortable.
No. I couldn’t do that to her. I’d been rough earlier, and while I didn’t doubt that she would’ve told me to stop if she hadn’t enjoyed herself, she was still new to all of this and needed time to recover.
I needed to remember to talk to her about how the Dom / sub relationship worked outside of the obvious bedroom interactions. I didn’t want her to think that I expected her to be submissive all the time. Hell, I liked when she pushed me. I had enough people kissing my ass. I needed someone like her to keep me in check out there. Some things, though, would remain the same. I wasn’t the sort of Dom who insisted on controlling every aspect of her life, telling her when and what to eat, what to wear, who she could spend time with, but I did take my responsibility to care for her seriously.
Which meant she had to be honest with me if I was too rough or if she needed a break. I’d always push her limits, test her comfort zones, but I’d never hurt her. Despite what most people thought of my world, a sub’s well-being was a Dom’s top priority.
When I couldn’t ignore the call of nature any longer, I eased myself out of bed. My clothes from earlier today were hanging in the bathroom, still damp from my attempts to wash at least some of the smell from them, but since I didn’t have any other clothes, I pulled my jeans back on, grimacing at the cold fabric. Still, it was better than wandering around Paige’s apartment naked. At least they finally smelled better.
As much as I enjoyed sleeping next to Paige, I was too restless to get back into bed. It wasn’t the normal restlessness I got after sex. I didn’t have any urge to leave, but something had me on edge. It was a familiar feeling, but I couldn’t quite place it yet.
I went into her kitchen and got myself a bottle of water, then paced around the small space, taking in all the details I’d missed before. Sparse furniture, and none of it looked brand-new, but they weren’t the ragtag furnishings I’d expected from a recent college graduate. They matched relatively well and looked like they’d been taken care of. She had a small television in the corner, but the stack of books next to a large overstuffed armchair suggested she spent more time reading than watching TV.
Everything was neat and orderly, which didn’t surprise me. Paige struck me as a person who wanted things in her place but wasn’t so obsessive about it that that place didn’t look lived in.
A small notepad and pen were stuck to her fridge, and I took them over to the chair with me. It wasn’t until I sat down that I even realized why I’d wanted them. For the first time in months, I put pen to paper and began to write.
Notes and words flowed out of me, and I edited as I went, scratching out things that didn’t work and replaced them with new. I chased the music in my head, racing to capture everything that ran through my mind before it was too late.
My hand started to cramp at some point, but I pushed my way through it. It’d been too long since I’d written things out long-hand. Technology was wonderful for getting things down quickly and saving them in a place where they wouldn’t get lost, but there was something to be said for the act of writing things out by hand.
At some point, I began humming the tune, making adjustments as I heard the various instruments in my head. Or rather, as I took out the different instruments. I was considered a solo artist, but I had a band that backed me with drums, bass, and a second guitar, sometimes giving me some assistance on vocals.
This song stripped away all of that. As it solidified in my head, I knew it would be only me and a guitar. Not acoustic, necessarily, but no frills. I didn’t know if that sound would carry through an entire album, or a tour, but for this song, it worked.
Finally, I set down the pen and stared at the pages in front of me. It had been more than half a year since I’d written anything, and none of it had been this good. For a long time, writing had been exhausting, a chore. It had always been work, but anyone who did something difficult that they loved will tell you that there was a world of difference between satisfying hard work and the ki
nd of thing you endured because it needed to be done.
I wasn’t a fool, and I didn’t believe in magical fixes or anything like that, but I did believe in inspiration, in the existence of something beyond what I could touch and see. I’d lost that, even before what had happened with Mitzi, but I’d found it again. And I didn’t doubt for a moment why.
Paige hadn’t only given me what I needed as a man and as a Dom. She’d given me back my voice.
Twenty-Eight
Paige
Something had woken me up, but I didn’t know what it was. For a moment, I was disoriented, wondering where I was, and then I felt the familiar comforter, saw the familiar shadows. I was home. But something still felt off. I stretched out my hand without really knowing why, but when I touched empty space, I remembered that I hadn’t gone to bed alone.
I rolled onto my back again and sighed. I hadn’t given much thought to whether or not Reb would stay the night, but I’d hoped he’d at least wake me up before he left rather than sneaking out. I didn’t know what any of this meant. We hadn’t made any declarations or commitments, so it was entirely possible that he simply hadn’t felt like sleeping over, or maybe he thought it would’ve given the wrong impression. I’d understand that sort of hesitation, but I still wished he would’ve talked to me about it. I’d rather have had an awkward conversation than all of these questions.
I started to turn over, then stilled when I heard something. A faint noise. Not talking, exactly, and not loud enough for me to make out anything specific. It could have been the neighbor’s television, but a glance at my phone told me that it was barely two o’clock in the morning. Mr. and Mrs. Armitage went to bed at eleven-thirty every night after they watched the news, and they got up at six-thirty every morning, whether they had anywhere to go or not. I knew this because they’d told me when I’d first met them. I was welcome to come over if I ever needed anything, but unless it was an emergency, I was never to disturb them between that eleven-thirty and six-thirty timeframe.