“I am. Thank you.”
“Good. We need to have a talk.”
A talk? What kind of talk? Hopefully one that solidified him as my Dom. Him. Logan Thorndike. The man who knew exactly what I needed and craved. The man who relished the role of ordering me around. The man who considered my climax pure gold.
He will be mine. He will. I won’t settle for anything less.
SORORITY PLEDGE 3:
Playgirl in his Eyes
CHAPTER 1
Logan walked ahead of me over to his couch for our talk and turned to me when he reached it. “Come here. Sit down.”
I padded over there, stiffening with worry. Now that he was done punishing me, was he gonna shove me off again? I hoped not. I couldn’t bear it. I did not think or believe this was a one-timer, but I wasn’t 100% confident he’d be keeping me on like I wanted. Maybe all he wanted was to call me to his house at random whenever he felt like it for a little bit of kink. I wanted a relationship, a lifestyle. I now see that’s exactly what he meant by a box.
As much as I had a craving to submit and be spanked and reshaped, I needed to be cherished too and was terrified of the whole BDSM culture. I always saw Doms as either old, scrawny pervs or beasts well over 200 pounds and six feet with a mustache, leather whip collection and sadist mentality to burn nipples, fuck you in every fuckable hole until you’re ripped to shreds and puking, and beat you until you’re practically unconscious and looking like a panda-Barney hybrid rather than a pretty candy apple. That’s fine for some people, but that’s not what I wanted or needed. On top of extreme sadists, a lot of creepy abusers polluted the scene too. I didn’t want abuse or anything like that. Logan was different … he said my nipples looked like gumdrops. If he actually took me on as his fulltime sub, I knew he’d take care of me, not force me to hold his shit in my mouth or lay on a bed of spikes. I could not have formed a more perfect Dom in my wildest dreams. I never imagined such a man existed, one with a firm hand and a heart of gold. I don’t think they do. That’s why the Sir I picked when he first looked into my eyes, this man, Logan Thorndike, absolutely had to be mine.
He sat down, draping his arms along the back and arm of the couch and bending one leg up. Of course my eyes drifted to the package he’d opened up to me. That was a casual pose, not consternating, as bending forward while glaring and resting on his thighs would be. I assumed he was not going to go ugly on me or chuck me out on my duff, but prickles still belly-danced down my neck anyway. Damn. He was so hot, so boyishly, manly beautiful. I loved the way he straddled the line and swung casually into both camps. I dragged my eyes back up to his, with them wrestling me the whole way up his body, a body I hadn’t even seen free of clothes yet.
I sat on the other side of the couch, tucking my legs up under me like a pretzel, turned towards him with my hands in my lap, and waited for this conversation to begin.
“Would you like a drink or anything? Something to eat? Are you comfortable?” He scratched his face and muttered, “God, you look so sexy in my shirt.”
I scanned the row of unbuttoned buttons, shirttails pooled over my naked crotch, and traced the white, plastic dots with my finger. The sides of my breasts were peeking out. I imagined his mouth there, his. I recalled his teeth, his tongue, his glorious suck, and how it all made my belly swirl. He was the one who ate my chest so deliciously, not some hot-and-cold freak. Logan had. Heat in my index finger finally registered and told me I was touching myself, following the curve of the right one up and down. Ohmygod. How long was I doing that? Touching myself! Crap! I swallowed hard and shot my gaze back up at him, my face on fire. “Um, I’m sorry, what did you ask?”
He set his tongue between his teeth. “You will be doing more of that,” he said and cleared his throat. “Do you need anything before we begin? A drink? Food?”
My mind felt much emptier than my stomach. I wanted to get on with this ‘talk’. “No. I’m fine.”
“Good, then on to framework. We need to discuss that.”
“Framework,” I mouthed, the word, sweet as honey on my lips. My heart started pounding. I spat out, “So we are doing this then, actually doing this?”
Anger flashed in his eyes and he ground his jaw. He was not happy with my doubt, but what did he expect, me to just lay down and let him do whatever he wanted to me without stated ‘framework’, without even knowing what we were doing here? Okay, I probably would, but he doesn’t know that! He hadn’t given me solid clarification at this point. “I painted your bottom red, again, and you’re still wondering? Do you need another reminder of why you’re here?”
Hell, yes!
“I invited you, and you’re here. I’d think that would say to you, clearly, that we are doing this. Are you having second thoughts? Your sudden spark of snark has me confused. Are you not happy with this dynamic we seamlessly have, with this arrangement we will create?”
“No, of course I’m happy. But what is this to you exactly? I’ve been groveling and following you around like a homeless puppy for days. It’s just, with you, I can’t tell where we stand. The way you shoved me off so coldly and kept ignoring me and ignoring me? So, no, I really don’t know what the heck this is. Maybe you’re just itching for some kink every once in a while. How the hell do I know? What kind of arrangement? I need you to spell out what you want from me and what we are. I never, ever want to displease you like that again. It’s absolute torture to hurt so damn badly, to know I broke something beautiful with the damn ‘box’ I didn’t even know I supposedly needed and being left with no clue on how to put it back together or how to get you to look at me again.”
“Addison. What?” He put his arms and bent-up leg down and scootched closer, but was still a couple feet away. Too far away. He clutched my fingers. I was so aware of his thumb dancing Swan Lake across my digits. His eyes looked mistier and full of concern. “No. You didn’t break or ruin anything. I said it was me. I’ve tried so hard to deny what I want, but your eagerness to submit to me has been driving me absolutely insane, with your flirty notes and your damn short skirts. I can’t resist anymore. God knows I’ve tried, but I can’t stay away from you, keep my eyes off of you or get you out of my stinking head. I just don’t know if I’m comfortable being that kind of man all the time.” He licked his luscious bottom lip, uh, so sexy … that slow, slow stroke, that scintillating lick that knows the tightness of my ‘most hollow space’. “One who...” He stopped, with that filthy, dark chocolate word in leather left unspoken.
Amused at his pinked face, I smiled and in a sassy, brat voice said, “Doooominates, Logan? … Just say it.”
His eyes roared at me. Big mistake! He jerked down on my calves so hard, one was now behind his back and the other across his lap, and my pussy, my naked pussy, was mashed up against his thigh. His next moves were so fluid that in less than two seconds, my hands were trapped in his grip together over my head, all his weight pressed on me, and his hot lips and breath tickled my ear. “I will be the one giving the orders here.” He was hard, so hard in those pants, and that rigid bulge of his was deliciously right at my entrance and restrained by only a layer of black fabric. “Yes, one who dominates … you … Addison Montgomery.”
I smiled. It was beautiful coming from his mouth. That word from his lips zapped me up like a high-voltage shock and gave birth to fizzy flowers. I was suddenly reaching for breath and shaking with desire.
“Oh, you like that word, do you? And everything it means? That I, Logan Thorndike, will own you. That is lovely music to your ears ... the most scrumptious candy in the world.” His cock still pressed into me and lips still tickled my ear, but I totally liked that kind of tickle and the kind of ache he was forming above my pelvis. “But you know, don’t you? There’s no denying it any longer. You can see through me, just as I can, you. You know what I really ache for, what will get me off like nothing else, and what I really want to be. One who turns a woman into a pet.” He rose up a little to look into my eyes. “And into a one-man s
lut.” I was swooning, my eye lashes fluttering fast, and he beamed. His lips surrounded mine, and he bit me and tugged the bottom one as he pulled up again. “A sub.” He kissed me. “A doll.” Kissed me again but so deliciously rough. “A beautiful new construct.” His kiss came back to me and remained there, growing into something ravenous and raw.
I opened up to him, our tongues quickly meeting and wrangling in ecstasy. While pulling his over and over again deep into mine, I wrapped my legs around him tightly, pasting him to my body. I tugged at my hands so I could tear at all the muscular spots I could feel, but he wouldn’t let me go. I growled because he was free, free to be diving into my shirt, his shirt, seizing the breast I’d just absentmindedly caressed. He jumped from breast to breast with pinches and squeezing grabs, different from than touch he gave me just last night. I wanted him to maul them with bites and sucks that would have me marked as his territory for days, but his mouth was already occupied and content, devouring mine.
Just as our exhales hit a frantic, heated state that almost became unbearable, he let me go, yanked out of my hold and returned to his seat on the other side of the couch.
My lungs heaving, a groan of disappointment crawled out of my mouth on its knees. What a fucking beast! My beast. Or soon-to-be. I remained on my back as he grinned wide at his devilishness.
“Yes, that’s what I want. To dominate you.”
Uh, his deep voice saying that word made my stomach quiver and my pussy slick with dew.
“Now, where were we? Framework. Here is what I expect. If you agree to my terms, then you will be mine, subject to me, all of the time. Your classes and social activities will be respected, but I may test you in the middle of them by making you wear a toy for instance or go out without underwear or in hot boots. That pussy of yours will be mine. Mine to use, mine to please, mine to ignore. You will no longer be allowed to pleasure yourself either outside of my presence or without my permission, or watch or read porn or do anything to deliberately get yourself hot or wet, unless I’m there or I’ve said you could. I will control your climax, always, when you have them and how. Do not do any drugs or get drunk, I need to know that you’re sane and holding your faculties at all times. I don’t do crazy or trashed, at all. I love to eat your pussy, it is a pleasure for me, but ultimately, I will not be as concerned with whether or not you come from it. It is for my benefit, and if you get eaten, it will be because I desire to give it in the moment. You will always be respectful, Brazilian waxed or trimmed up, on time, panty-free—unless I specify—and above all, obedient. Have plenty of elastics on hand for your hair. If I don’t specify a style, it’s up to you how you wear it, but I will often have a preference for you to have it up or braided. I will also tell you what I expect you to be wearing on random days, and you will wear it as I state, down to the smallest detail. If I haven’t specified, you can wear whatever you wish. Whining and complaining and hesitating and not following through on what I ask or demand or any of those other stated rules will get you punished in any way I see fit, which could be abstaining from pleasuring you, withdrawing or withholding treats, holding you in a pose, spiking you up to scorching hot then leaving you unsatisfied, tying you up, making you run laps at the track, sticking you in the corner, humiliating you or giving you punishment spankings, not just on your ass, but anywhere I desire, with the exception of your neck, face or stomach.”
The words ‘punishment spanking’ sent chills down my spine, the good kind that whip around and slam into the cervix, only to blast off in a million different directions.
“Every Monday morning, you are to come here at 5 a.m. for a maintenance spanking and to receive the list of my expectations and demands for the week, and you will also get random texts of things I’d like you to do for me as well. We may play after or around your MS, so be ready for that. I saw in the Freshman Directory you live in Connecticut, so when out of town, don’t assume you’ll be getting off the hook. You will maintenance spank yourself, at my command, with various implements while it’s streamed to me on this big-ass TV right over here. Same time. 5 a.m. And you will do your punishment spankings the same way if you’ve been a bad girl.”
My walls squeezed, and I let out a sigh that longed to be a scream. I almost freaking came at the thought, at the picture of that! Me, on all fours on my bed with my pink, leather paddle, maybe even with the maid, Marcy, tinkering around in the hall, her wondering what the hell I’m doing and probably guessing correctly. Spanking myself was never fun, not really, but with him watching? Like that? Especially if I’ve been bad! Ohmygod. Hell, yes!
“Maintenance spankings will be more erotic like the ones you crave, mostly by hand, but firm enough to set you on a path for a successful week, to encourage good behavior. Punishment spankings will be more severe, lengthy and eclectic.”
Eclectic. Mmm. Sounds fun. And painful.
“I may leave you with a few pretty welts on occasion, but I refuse to ever spank you, deliberately, beyond the state of red. Walking around with a black or purple-green ass is no condition I want my sub to be in.”
His sub. His sub. Aaaahhh.
“In the beginning, it will take some time for me to acquaint with your body, to know what you can handle, and you may get some bruises in the interim, but I have no desire to injure you or jeopardize your safety or good health at any time. We will mostly play a lot in sensual ways. I will usher you into scenes, both with surprising elements and ones we orchestrate together, and I will train you to be my submissive and to tap into the hidden assets of your body and psyche, which will involve a mix of pleasure and pain to get the best results out of you. I hope to share scenes with you at least once or twice a week that will last 1-4 hours, so we can expand our eroticism, experiment with sensation and live out our fantasies. My goal and intention is to encourage, discipline, shape and turn you into my ultimate pleasure.”
His ultimate pleasure. I smiled wide at that shiny, sparkling box.
“I may lend your body to another person for training purposes, for both you and myself, but it will be your choice and you will never be asked or ordered to service anyone, unless that is your fantasy and/or desire. I am greedy for your sexual gratification and satisfaction and don’t like to share, but if it is your fantasy, I will make an allowance for group play with me present but not until you are come-trained.”
Come-trained?
“You may call me your Dom, and you will refer to me as Sir or my Lord, and, also Logan, when you are given specific permission to do so, like when we are out in public. For protocol, I prefer no formality in front of vanillas but would like reverence for me and other Dominants in the title of their choice when at munches, clubs, parties and homes where BDSM is practiced. However, you would not be required to submit to them. You’d be my sub, and mine alone.”
I loved the sound of that. His.
“I have a distaste for the word Master, so don’t use it. I think because it comes with baggage and puts me in the scene and lowers you to a slave, when all I want to do is lord over you, not join some kink organization or fit into someone else’s expectation for me, and the same goes for your eyes. As I see it, a slave is forced to serve or aims to serve his or her Master and their titillation is found in the degradation and ownership, and a sub willingly submits because delight is found through their desire to please and be dominated. And you are a submissive who wants to adore and be adored, and that’s the difference, that’s what’s most beautiful to me about you and what makes you so irresistible, so I will never consider or call you my slave.
“On that first night, I couldn’t believe Little Miss Kitten was in my house, melting at the word spanking, unfreaking able to say it. I tested you when I told you to get that chair, and you did it. And also, when I started to touch you and you didn’t raise even a peep. And you just kept on complying and yielding to me, no matter what I asked, even going so far as to tell me to belt your clit in front of strangers. It’s taken me a while to discover what my hang-up was
, why I couldn’t jump in fully, and it was mostly because, no, it was entirely because I’ve never encountered anyone as eager to please me as you. You’ve been begging me to make you mine for days. Dominating someone fulltime is nothing to take lightly. It’s a big responsibility and honor. I have given this a lot of consideration, and I’m done fighting. You got me. I’m in.
“But, this is what you might not like. It’s my make-or-break condition, the thing I know will stretch you the most. With the exception of today—which will be the kick start of your training, if you’re still in—we will spend every Sunday together, in some way, and on Sundays you must break out of submission, unless we are invited to a BDSM event that happens to fall on a Sunday. Since this will be way more than roleplay for us, I have to have more than just a kinky lifestyle with you. I want you entirely. You will be my sub, my girlfriend, my friend and my lover. Many people can do just D/s thing and be happy, but I can’t, I need the romance and fun too. Anything less would leave me empty, and I don’t want to become consumed by my lusts. That is my biggest fear.”
I melted at all his labels for me, all his lovely boxes. He wants me!
“You are fascinating and bright and full of spunk, and I want to know what makes you laugh, what scares you most, what you like on top of your ice cream, and what kind of music speaks to your soul. And I can’t know these things or the millions of other things I’m curious about unless you’re free to show me and express them. And knowing you deeper will only help me to push and mold you more effectively. So, I want one normal day each week to chill and relax and laugh, where I can be Logan and you, simply, the girl I adore. You will be free to touch me any way you want, as any girlfriend would, but you must say everything that pops into your head, no matter how filthy or lame or silly or sassy you think it is. You lied to me in the woods and in my car and in my bathtub. No more lying or holding back. I can see it in your eyes and on your face when you do. I desire, greatly, to know the girl beyond and beneath my submissive and that requires your complete honesty and disclosure. I want you to keep a journal in some way and email it to me or hand it to me every Sunday. I need to know how you’re feeling going into and after a scene. I want to know all your dirty thoughts. This is vitally important to me, to know the real you, so if I catch you suppressing your desires or even suspect you are doing it, I will immediately leave and won’t see you for the rest of the week. I know this will be a struggle for you, to shut off, so if you know in your gut you can’t do this and require a constant state of being with no lapses, I can help you find a Dom that’s more compatible with your needs.”
Red Hot Obsessions: Ten Contemporary Hot Alpha Male Romance Novels Boxed Set Page 213