The boning in her corset reminded her that she had no business relaxing. Especially at such a critically bad moment, when he had so much power over her.
She straightened her spine, fighting her reaction to the man and the weapon he clutched in his hand. It was a weapon and a tool.
It would be her undoing and she fully well knew it.
Full-on panic welled inside her.
Her heart pounded against her ribs, tripping inside the cage of her corset as she started shaking. She wrung her hands together trying to find a way out of what she’d already agreed to.
She went so far as to take a step away from him when he advanced on her.
“Stop. Close your eyes.” Nick’s commanding voice carried across the space separating them.
She stood, frozen by his first directive but she didn’t want to lose sight of him. Not even for an instant. That’s all it would take for him to sneak in beneath her shields. She had to be strong, now more than ever.
“Close. Your. Eyes.” He kept coming, his long legs eating up the distance.
Less than ten feet away she lowered her lashes, unable to refuse the one man she wanted to obey. His footfalls stopped just shy of where she stood. She waited for him to berate her for being weak.
But it never came.
She expected him to force her to her knees and fill her mouth full of cock. She would have welcomed the distraction. But him physically forcing her to do anything at that point would have ruined whatever energy they had going for them.
He would have been a bully in her mind so she hoped he would do just that. She didn’t want him to be perfect anymore. She wanted him to be mean so she could justifiably walk away and blow him off for good.
But he didn’t do any of those things.
With one hand he took each of hers, turning them over palm up. “I will not hurt you. Not ever. Not in a way that you don’t want to be hurt.”
He placed the coiled rope in her hands.
The reaction was instantaneous. Her heart rate leveled out and the shakes slowed, then stopped. Her panic quieted, right along with her doubts.
He knew just what to do to calm her. She’d never discussed what she really was. How deep her love of rope went. Yet it seemed he knew her on some kind of core level.
He circled her, trailing his fingers as he went. His warmth burned through the corset, marking her skin. He stopped behind her and circled her waist, steading her. He lifted one of her feet, slipping the heel from her foot. He repeated the same thing on the other side, removing her second shoe and she followed his movements by sound alone.
After he set her shoes down somewhere toward the bathroom he came back. His fingers grazed the knot of lacing holding her corset tied. He paused, fingering it some more. “Interesting.”
She’d knotted it at least four times. It would take a safe cracker to get him past that and she knew his patience was thin. She clutched the rope to her chest, petting it, calming herself, knowing he watched everything but not caring.
He settled for removing her tutu. He shoved the material down, dislodging the condoms and small packet of lube. Her eyes opened, focusing on the things lying on the floor.
After helping her step out of the stiff ring of tulle and grabbing the items he’d asked for, he stood and turned them over in his hand.
There was no “thank you” or pat on the back.
What he gifted her with surpassed that.
A smile.
Not a smirk or a sneer or a good-natured chuckle.
He gave her a genuine smile. It lit up his face, chasing away some of the shadows below his eyes. She couldn’t remember ever seeing that look on his face before.
When his lips fell back into their normal stoic line she wanted to yell, “Come back!”
But he leaned over, kissing her shoulder, running his palm over her naked behind.
When she’d thought earlier that the tiny skirt didn’t offer her much protection, she’d been totally wrong.
With it gone she knew she was naked before him. Yes, she still had on her corset but he’d never get her out of that. Not ever.
The warmth from his touch sizzled beneath her skin as he palmed one side of her rear and then the other. She worked hard for that ass, doing umpteen squats, planks and leg presses to earn it. His rumble of approval heated every inch of her, down to her core.
“Kneel.” He held her elbow and eased her into the position he wanted, sitting back on her haunches, knees spread. “If you only knew how long I’ve wanted you just like this.”
If he only knew how she’d longed for him to put her there. At his feet.
“Eyes.”
His rumble of authority washed over her and she blinked twice, remembering at the last minute he required her focus on him at all times.
She craned her neck to see him, since he stood practically between her thighs.
He nodded his approval when she met his stare. “Very good.”
The sight of him towering over her in more ways than just stature, stole her breath. He was attractive—yes. Dominant—yes. But it was more than the sum of all his physical attributes. He had that X-factor that many desired but few delivered on.
She licked her lips, nibbling on the top one, waiting for some snarky comment to come flying out of her mouth to ruin the moment.
But it didn’t.
She knelt at his feet, with his rope in her hands and it was exactly what she’d hoped and feared it would be. What he would be.
“Rope.” He held out his hand and she reluctantly handed it back.
“Wrists together behind your back.”
Tucking the rope in the back pocket of his slacks confused her, but she did what he told her to.
He moved around, buckled a cuff around each wrist and then buckled them together. She had no clue where they’d appeared from and didn’t really care.
His open bag across the room called to her, as if it were a siren from sailing days past. It enticed her to come close and dash her ship across the rocks, marooning her on an island she couldn’t escape from.
She wanted it more than she’d wanted anything in a really long time so she sat up a little straighter, making a decision that would probably push Nick past his breaking point. But it was the only thing she knew she could live with.
“Hard limits?”
Good to know he wouldn’t waste their time since he jumped right in with the meet and greet of her issues.
“There is no sign on my forehead that says lavatory so don’t treat me like one.”
He chuckled, fingering her hair. She leaned back against his legs, savoring the contact and his scent. She didn’t want to give in to him at all but she knew she needed it. Her sanity wouldn’t stay intact much longer if she didn’t at least meet him halfway.
“I don’t want to piss on you, so no worries there. Next.”
“I still want to have sex with women. They’re soft and pretty and I like playing with them.”
“Fine. But if I want to watch or any of their men want to watch—in person or through the cameras—we can do that with no questions asked and no prior notice given. When we want to show up we will, end of story.”
Not if—when. Fucking sexy. The women she played with normally had their men watching, usually from the tiny handheld monitors she gave them when they left her prep area. Password-protected devices so they could watch just how thorough she followed through on their instructions.
But she’d never had someone to watch her. No one she’d ever been with was remotely interested in sharing that part of herself. It was different with Nick. The thought of him watching her with Cyn or Haleigh—damn.
“You can’t interfere. Not even to Ooh-rah if something happens that you think deserves it. You’ll be the proverbial Dom on the wall instead of the fly.” She couldn’t go easy on him, she couldn’t just give in. She wasn’t one of those blind newbie submissives that would say “I’m up for anything”. Having limits was safe, sane and—as s
oon as they agree on them—consensual.
She glanced over her shoulder when he didn’t answer and he fumed behind her. The erection pressing against the fly of his slacks reminded her she’d had some relief early. He hadn’t. She was playing with fire and needed to remember that.
His comment about sharing her earlier smacked her upside the head like he’d reared back with her trusty slugger. “Well? Yes or No, Casanova?”
He growled and moved her forward so he could step around her and stare her down again. “Agreed.”
Fuck, she wanted him so damn bad she couldn’t think straight. Especially with the rope in his hand. He must have pulled it out of his pocket at some point. He manipulated it back and forth, fingering the individual strands and the knots on both ends.
She had to nip the attraction somehow before it got out of control.
“Several more things. No snuggling after a scene. Any scene. No rope and my corset doesn’t come off—ever.” She spit each of them at him as if they were venom.
His eyes narrowed as he circled her again, towering over her one more time when he stopped.
“No rope bondage? No rope suspension? What?” He twisted the jute back and forth as he manipulated it in front of her.
Whether he did it out of subconscious movement or just to taunt her, she didn’t know. But she took it as an attack.
“Neither.”
“Why?”
“I agreed to be your submissive, not your therapy subject. This is about us having sex, hopefully lots of it. That’s it.”
Tendons up his neck tightened along with his shoulders and jaw.
“I’ll allow the corset and the rope limit—for now. But being with you afterward, caring for you after I take all you have to give and more, is going to be one of the best rewards I’ve ever taken.” He continued without giving her an opportunity to argue. “Safe word? Or do you want me to pi—”
“Ian.” It was out of her mouth, tainting the scene, before she could call it back. She stared straight at him, trying desperately to hold his eye contact. No emotion. She hoped she didn’t give anything away.
“I’ve only got one hard limit.”
“Which is?” she asked with a fair bit of trepidation. She couldn’t remember one top she’d ever fucked who had a hard limit that they had to discuss.
“Don’t fall in love with me. As you said already. That’s not what this is about.”
She laughed. Not a soft chuckle or even a snort that could be construed as cute. She guffawed to the point she had to wipe several tears off her cheeks with her shoulders. She shook her hair away from her face when she was somewhat composed and sneered at him.
Staring him down as he stood above her sounded like a good idea so she eyed him thoroughly until he stiffened. “No problem, Casanova.”
His jaw clenched again but he remained silent.
“Are we done with the interview portion of the evening or are you going to talk at me all night?”
He tossed the rope at her knees, making her shiver. She shuffled away from it, no more than an inch but at least it didn’t touch her naked flesh.
He saw it. He missed nothing as he stalked to the closet.
He came back holding a collar, a package of ear plugs she normally kept stocked in each toy closet and something else he tucked in his pocket.
“You owe me punishment from our first conversation. Do you remember how many?” He wrapped the collar around her throat, buckling it in the back, tucking the extra tail through a loop on the leather meant to hold it in place.
She didn’t remember him ever putting a collar on someone, even for a temporary thing. It felt significant even though he was pissed. She stuffed it down, compartmentalizing what she wanted, focusing on what she could have.
“Three I think, Sir.”
“And they were all for?”
“Lying, Sir.” He was right, and that made her want to call him Casanova again just to push his buttons.
What is wrong with me? She bit her cheek to keep from digging her hole any deeper.
“Thirty days. You belong to me. Up on your knees.”
He walked to his toy bag and gathered an arm load of rope. “What are you doing?”
“Are you safe wording?”
“No, but—”
“But nothing. Up on your knees. Don’t make me say it a third time.”
She lifted her body, sliding her knees together.
“I didn’t tell you to close your legs.”
He moved back toward her and she shifted her knees apart again. The concrete floor was suddenly very hard beneath her.
“Comfortable?”
“Yes—yes, Sir.”
“Good. Don’t move.”
Then he started placing the coils of rope around her feet and shins and knees. He outlined her in rope but never actually touched her with it. None of them were more than a half inch away. “Close, but no cigar,” as the saying went.
He went back for more rope once and then he was done. It looked like a kinky murder scene when cops on TV outlined the victim in masking tape or electrical tape or whatever adhesive strip they used.
She shifted a tiny bit, trying to alleviate the pressure on her knees and her ankle came in contact with some of the jute on the far side. “Fuck,” came out before she could stop it.
The reaction was instantaneous, just like it always was. Sensation raced up her leg, climbed her spine, spreading warmth and yumminess around inside her head. Her head fell forward a bit and she tilted it away from him so she could stare at him.
“I told you not to move.”
“But my hard limit. You can’t—”
“You specifically said no bondage and no suspension. You still have full use of your legs and you’re not in the air. There isn’t even a suspension ring above that I could tie you to. I don’t believe I’ve violated your specific parameters, Ms. Quinn. Are we clear?”
“Crystal,” she gritted out as she tried to stay still.
There wasn’t much worse than trying to stay still when her head told her nerves to do one thing but her heart and her tingly bits at the apex of her thighs shouted something totally different.
“Hands up. Keep them off your ass.”
She lifted them, resting them at the small of her back.”
“Count.”
“Count what— Fuuuucccckk…”
The first cut is always the deepest, or the first strike in her case.
A stinging whack raced along the flesh of her ass where he’d smacked her. “One,” she breathed out as he held a crop out for her to see. She had no idea how she remembered to count.
It wasn’t a normal crop, of course. It was in the shape of a little hand. The thick leather tool couldn’t have been more than two inches across but it stung like a bitch. It was like the love child of a wooden spoon and a crop.
Awful.
She was definitely learning Nick wasn’t one for normal anything. Or easy anything for that matter.
“Fun, huh? I had this specially made for me a couple years ago by a friend of mine.”
Without warning he whacked her on the other ass cheek, pulling a yip from her along with a, “Two.”
She moved, trying to get away from the pain, and brushed several coils of rope on her way. Before she could reposition herself he smacked her again, on the little line where her ass met her thigh. “Three. Fuck.”
He didn’t say anything else, just proceeded to spank her ass until she was certain her skin would spontaneously combust if he hit her even one more time.
But he did, more times than she thought she could handle.
She brushed the rope each time, until she wanted to be honest with him. To tell him how much of a rope whore she was and how badly she wanted him to tie her.
Not that she deserved it because she hadn’t been honest about it, but damn she needed it so bad.
By the end she was nothing but a horny mess, rope touching her all over.
“Don’t
come. Last punishment.”
She thought for a moment, focusing on what he said. That was three, she realized. The rope surround, the mean crop and then orgasm denial. Those were all horrible punishments.
“Eyes on me unless I blindfold you or tell you otherwise. I want to hear you, Jenna.”
“What do you mean?”
He didn’t answer her, just removed the new ear plugs from the package in his pocket and slipped them in her ears.
Silence.
It greeted her like disappointment. It snuck up on an unsuspecting victim but once it was there, it permeated everything.
Air flowing in and out of her nose and mouth were her only companions.
The lack of any other sound disoriented her, throwing off her ability to stay removed from what he did to her. How he affected her, simply by kneeling in front of her.
He tucked the cups of her bra below her full breasts, plumping them up to perch on top. He sucked them into his mouth. She moaned, trying to stifle it because she didn’t know how loud she was being.
His lips were moving when she finally focused on his mouth. Most of what he said she couldn’t follow but he said pretty and she got that one.
Her double Ds were big for her slender frame but she loved them. They’d always made her feel feminine. Guys seemed to like them too and apparently Nick wasn’t immune.
The color of her areolas morphed into a darker pink when she was aroused and when she looked at them, she figured they’d be fuchsia with how bad she needed Nick to touch her. He sucked her second nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue, to make it hard.
Sweet anticipation raced to her clit, sending an S.O.S. reply that help was coming.
He closed a clover nipple clamp over her nipple and she cried out, unable to keep it from him. She didn’t stifle it and she couldn’t hear if she was shrieking but it didn’t matter.
He wanted to hear her and that was her only objective to fulfill.
He licked her first nipple again, blowing across it to make it stiff and she paid attention. He pulled a second clover clamp from his pocket, squeezing it on the way to her nipple.
She leaned away, following instinct alone but he pinched her nipple between his thumb and first finger, trapping her in place. Pain raced outward from the sensitive tip and she bit her cheek to keep from doing anything more than grunting every few seconds.
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