by BJ Wane
“See? Not so bad, is it?” Mitchell, damn him, pressed his other hand against one buttock and held her hips down. The added restraint increased her vulnerability, inflaming her further, astonishing her with another unpredictable revelation. “You don’t need to answer, just continue to concentrate on what your body is telling you.”
He pulled slowly out of her clutching inner muscles only to return with two fingers. The minor pinch of pain eased into discomfort as he stretched those muscles with nerve-teasing strokes that caused her vaginal walls to spasm with empty privation. Her panties dampened with the thick cream dripping from her pussy as goosebumps broke out along her perspiration-damp skin. Her nipples ached, pressing against the bench, and the longing to free them of the confines of her clothing intensified with his slow exploration and tantalization of nerve endings she had never considered before.
Without raising her head, she felt him bend to her ear again, his breath warm as he whispered above the low voices, high-pitched cries and other sounds of play going on behind them. “What do you say, Lillian, are you ready for more, or do I stop,” he withdrew and then thrust deep in one smooth return plunge, “now, with this?”
Desire for the sweet oblivion of release took over and she shook her head, not needing to think it through. “Don’t stop.”
Nipping at the tender skin of her neck, he followed the quick sting with warm approval. “You please me, pet.”
Lillian tabled the pleasure his praise gave her to delve into later as Mitchell moved back, lifted his hold on her cheek and pulled out of her body and panties. Cooler air wafted over her exposed buttocks as he lowered her panties, the uplifted position of her hips putting her now exposed backside on display. It helped to feel Mitchell’s jean-clad legs brushing against her widened inner thighs, knowing his tall, larger frame blocked everyone’s direct vision of her. Instead of heated embarrassment, a molten rush of flaming lust sizzled through her veins, aided by the thrust of three fingers filling and stretching her quivering, soaking pussy.
She whimpered, a pathetic sound of need only this man could pull from her. He played with her clit, pressed against the swollen tissues lining her convulsing sheath and pummeled her depths, but never let those contractions gain momentum toward climax. Her frustration built along with her desperate arousal, her need escaping in a throaty, aching growl.
“Not yet,” he stated in a calm, seemingly unaffected tone as her tight grip around his fingers failed to keep them inside her as he pulled back.
“Damn it.” She whipped her head up, turning to see him oiling a short strand of different sized glass beads. Suspicion gripped her abdomen as heat flared hotter, both inside and out. “What are those?”
“Anal beads.” Mitchell looked at her, running his slick fingers down the shiny orbs. “Do you trust me or want to stop?”
Why did he always have to phrase things in a way that was equivalent to waving a red flag in front of her? His matter-of-fact voice and demeaner prompted her to prove she was no coward as well as attempt to shake that iron control as much and as thoroughly as he had stripped her of her preconceived notions.
“I’ll say red when I want to stop,” she said, putting her head back down without admitting she trusted him. She wouldn’t give an inch where she didn’t have to.
Long fingers and a calloused palm gripped one fleshy cheek and squeezed, followed by his gruff baritone. “See that you do.”
Lillian gritted her teeth, both against that smug rejoinder and the slow insertion of the smooth glass bulbs. The oil and his hand must have taken the chill off the balls, which helped her accept the foreign objects as they rolled with ease past her tight rim. The first, biggest one was the most difficult to remain still for as it pinched and stretched to the point of soreness. Each consecutive orb was a little smaller and slid easier into place until all five were embedded. The stuffed feeling was unpleasant until she swayed her hips to alleviate the pressure and discovered they rolled and pulsated against those newly exposed nerve endings.
Her astonished cry rent the air before she gasped, “You didn’t tell me they moved!”
“Vibrate, and it’s more fun to show than tell.”
Mitchell shifted between her legs, the rough denim against her skin changing to the softer brush of his cotton t-shirt. Those large hands cupped the underside of her buttocks, his thumbs spreading her labia and then the scratch of his goatee tickled her inner thighs as he licked up her seam. Another cry spilled out of her mouth, this one softer as her pussy convulsed around his invading tongue probe.
“Mitchell,” she breathed, unsure what she wanted to convey back to him as he lapped at her clit. He didn’t stop feasting to answer, thank goodness, adding one long finger to stroke deeper than his tongue could reach.
Between the glass bead’s palpitations and his busy tongue and lips, she succumbed to the heightened sensations igniting a heated frenzy throughout her body. A sharp, teeth-tugging yank on her clit elicited a shriek and gush of cream, numbing her to everything except the pleasure spiraling out of control. He lapped over the tortured bud, his finger sliding through her damp channel with ease as he pressed against her slick walls. Sinking his teeth into one tender fold resulted in another convulsive grip around his finger and returning tongue jab.
Lillian forgot about the public exposure, her dislike of Mitchell’s bossiness and the fact the activities in this place weren’t her thing. As the anal toy and his mouth worked their magic, driving her to the pinnacle of release over and over only to have him slow down enough to stop the final push into orgasm, the reason for her being here, with him in the first place took a back seat to the desperate need he’d kindled inside her. She quaked as every cell was awakened by the painful intensity burning through her system, making her legs shake as she pushed against his marauding mouth in one last, silent plea for an end to his torment.
Instead of showing her mercy, he abandoned her drenched pussy to tug on the string dangling from her butt. Her muscles tightened around the rolling caress of all five balls but it was the brush of soft feathers teasing her labia that drew a shuddering sigh of pleasure. Swallowing her pride, she opened her mouth to beg but the abrupt snap of leather replacing the feathery caresses seared her tender flesh, drawing a startled shriek instead. She shook as the sting morphed into pulsating heat with another soothing stroke of the feather. “Oh, crap,” she groaned as he delivered another burning swat and calming feathery stroke that sent her into a tailspin of needy lust, leaving her no choice but to plead for mercy.
She lifted her head but didn’t look back as she pled, “Mitchell, Master, Sir, whatever you want me to call you, please do something.”
“Tell me what you want,” he insisted.
Now she did glance around, grateful he had stood and leaned to the side so she could see him. “Are you really going to make me say it?” she demanded.
“Yes,” he returned, the implacable hardness lacing his voice drawing a shiver down her spine. “I can’t risk misreading you,” he added by way of explanation.
With her hands cuffed at her sides, it was difficult to keep her head raised. Huffing, she swallowed her pride. “Fine, fuck me, is that clear enough for you?”
Mitchell’s answer was a blistering smack to both cheeks as he fished a condom out of his pocket. “A little reminder to watch your tone as a matter of respect,” he taunted back.
Lillian wanted to smirk in return and tell him the burn only fueled the fire he’d left simmering, but wouldn’t put it past him to deny her release. Instead, she opted for a throaty plea. “Please.”
“Better.” Twirling one finger, he signaled for her to turn around, the silent order grating, but not enough to risk delaying his possession.
As he gripped her hips and prodded her pussy lips with his wide cock head, a sharp barked order from another Dom nearby followed by a leather-snapping lash and shrill cry reminded her of where they were. What am I doing? She never imagined she would find herself in such a posit
ion, let alone in public. And then Mitchell slid forward, filling her needy pussy with his hard flesh, stretching her sheath with his thickness, and nothing else mattered.
“Take a deep breath, pet.”
He didn’t give Lillian time to ask why, or to bristle at the disliked endearment as he pulled back with excruciating slowness and tugged on the dangling anal beads cord hard enough to yank the first ball out of her butt. Pleasurable ripples raced up and down both orifices, changing into gripping spasms as he thrust hard and deep with another glass orb release. Like setting flame to a dry timber, she exploded in a burst of fiery contractions, going mindless as he rocked her body on the padded bench with pounding, jackhammer strokes. Sensation after sensation ripped through her with endless pulses, her strangled cries catching on breathless sobs.
Mitchell didn’t know what got to him more, Lillian’s acceptance of everything he’d introduced her to thus far or the tight contractions of her slick heat squeezing his cock. Yes, he thought with licks of pleasure traversing up and down his pummeling shaft, it had been weeks since he’d indulged in fucking a sub, but he’d abstained for a full year following Abbie’s death and hadn’t experienced this intense conflagration of gripping satisfaction when he’d first returned to their Denver club.
Tabling those thoughts in favor of enjoying the snug, welcoming pussy pulling his climax up from his balls, he released the last anal bead, relishing the unconscious lift of her ass and shuddering, sweat-dampened body. Leaning over, he braced his hands on the bench at her sides, grunting as he proceeded to ride her hard and fast with rapid hip-jerking thrusts.
Lillian’s second climax spasmed around his pistoning shaft, the final, irresistible lure to letting go with his own orgasm. His head filled with the euphoria of pleasure spewing up his cock and bursting into the latex cover. The bench shook from the force of his ramming hips but she continued to embrace his rough possession with toe-pushing ass-lifting that provided a soft cushion for him to land on.
It took several seconds to clear his head and get his breath back as he soaked up the tiny quivers of her swollen, wet muscles still teasing his flesh. Attuned to her every sound and movement, he heard the moment her heavy breathing and satisfied moans hitched into a tortured sob, and then another and another.
Lifting off her, Mitchell released her wrists with one hand while removing the condom with the other. Coming around the bench, he discarded the protection in a bin and reached for her shaking shoulders, guessing the dam burst on her pent-up emotions before she could rouse from the euphoria enough to put her shields back up.
“I’ve got you, Lillian.” Her weeping continued as she stood and allowed him to pull up her panties without a word. She didn’t snipe or complain when he lifted her, just buried her face in his shoulder and shook with the strength of her torrential outburst as he carried her downstairs and into the secluded nook, away from curious, concerned eyes.
This breakdown, he suspected as he settled on the small sofa behind plant-topped half-walls, centered more on grief than what her first lifestyle scene revealed about her sexual makeup. She was a strong woman and would either embrace that new knowledge about herself or walk away from exploring it further. But he knew only too well there was no way to dismiss the agonizing heartbreak of loss that cut so deep it left you numb for months. Her grief was still in its infancy compared to his, which meant she was still coming to terms with her sister’s death, with the fact she would never see or speak with her again, that their special bond was forever severed.
His heart ached as she burrowed deeper with a wrenching, watery hiccup and he recalled the devastation and pain of losing Abbie. Tightening his arms around her shivering body, he leaned his head back and let her cry it out, wishing there was something, anything he could say or do to ease her pain.
Devin entered the quiet corner holding out Lillian’s black skirt with a worried look in his dark blue eyes. “Is she all right?”
“She will be, she just doesn’t know it yet.” His friend must have seen Mitchell’s own sorrow reflected on his face because he nodded and laid the garment on the arm of the sofa.
“Greg and I will be at the bar with Kelsey. If you need her, or Nan, text one of us.”
Damn, it was good to allow himself the benefits of friendships again. “Thanks. Appreciate it.” As soon as Devin left, Lillian tensed and pulled away.
Dropping his arms, he let her get to her feet and reach for her skirt. She pulled it on in silence, keeping her splotched, tear-streaked face averted. He could empathize with her need to be alone, to work on assimilating through what prompted her loss of control. Once she did that, the questions about her compliance upstairs would start.
“I need to find Nan, see if she’s ready to leave,” Lillian said, her voice scratchy as she turned to face him with a closed expression.
Understanding made him more inclined to give her space, but not to turn over her welfare to someone else. Pushing to his feet, he grabbed her hand. “I’ll take you. Returning to Willow Springs is out of Nan’s way and it’s ridiculous since we’re going to the same location.”
“You’re ready to go? Isn’t it early for you?”
“No.”
They stopped at the bar, where Dan was now serving, to let him and Nan know they were leaving. The satisfied glow in Nan’s eyes and rosy complexion were telltale signs of Dan’s expertise in seeing to his wife’s needs. The smile hovering on her lips reminded Mitchell how much he used to enjoy assuaging Abbie’s cravings. With a jolt, he realized he had derived as much contentment from introducing Lillian to the club scene and public play as he’d had pleasuring his spouse. It was time, he decided, to do some soul-searching and figure out what it was about Lillian that stoked feelings he thought he’d buried with Abbie.
“I’m taking Lillian home,” he addressed Nan before looking at her husband. “Do you mind making my excuses for skipping out on monitor duty tonight?”
One glance at Lillian’s ravaged face was all Dan needed to give his support. “No problem, we have plenty of help even without Caden and Connor. Lillian, I hope we see you again.”
Nan reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’ll call you,” was all she said, but it was enough for Lillian to nod in appreciation.
“Okay, thanks. Goodnight.”
As Mitchell walked her out and she continued to ignore him, he was honest enough with himself to admit to the dent she’d put in his ego almost from their first encounter. He’d had women come on to him over the years, as both a Dom and a doctor, a few disregarding his marital status until he set them straight. Lillian had made her disinterest in him clear from the onset. He enjoyed tonight more than he thought he would, her telling expressions, bravado in going through with a scene and the tight clasp of her wet pussy pleasing him in different ways. Her meltdown affected him on a different level, one that tugged at those emotions he thought had died three years ago.
Because he found himself working through his own affecting upheaval, he allowed her to stay silent until he parked in front of his garage. Turning in the seat, he stated quietly, “Grief isn’t something you can rush or put a time limit on. I can tell you it will lessen and getting through the days will get easier, but not when. How did your sister die?”
He wasn’t sure she would answer, but she took a shuddering breath, let it out on a sigh and said, “A brain aneurysm, followed by six weeks in a coma. I know she never would have recovered, or if she’d come out of it, she would have had severe brain damage and I’m not sure that would have been any easier to live with.”
Mitchell winced. What she described was truly a worst-case scenario for any family member to have to cope with. “I’m sorry. My wife suffered through cancer treatments before she passed away and it took me a long time to see past my grief enough to admit relief that she was free of that agony. Come on. I’ll walk you up. Go to bed, you need the sleep.”
He came around the SUV, not surprised she hadn’t waited for him to open the door.
Sidestepping his reach for her hand, she started for the stairs, her back as rigid as her tone. “You’re ordering me around again, and I don’t need you to walk me up.”
“Too bad.” Moving ahead of her, he climbed the stairs and held out his hand for the key. She slapped it into his palm with an exasperated huff that made his lips twitch. “Good girl,” he praised her and got the rise he’d expected.
“I’m not a girl and don’t need your praise.”
“It’s my job to know what you need.” Opening the door, he flicked on the overhead light and handed her back the key. “I aced anatomy, pet, and seen you naked. Trust me, you’re a girl. What?” he asked sharply, her nose crinkling as she sniffed and frowned.
“Smells funny in here, smokey.”
He caught a faint pungent odor, not enough to pinpoint a source or name it. “Could be the furnace. It’s old. I’ll have someone out to check it this week.” Cupping her chin, he refused to let her jerk out of his hold, enjoying the flash in those amethyst eyes as he examined her face, ensuring she would be okay once he left. The temptation to lean down and kiss that mulish mouth was another indication his feelings for her were reaching a level he never thought to experience again. He hadn’t kissed a woman since Abbie. “Call me tonight if you have trouble getting to sleep.” Brushing his thumb across the plump softness of her lower lip, he rumbled, “Goodnight, Lillian.”
Lillian locked the door behind Mitchell and leaned against it, still working on coming to grips with her shattered physical and emotional control. She had caved to his sexual dominance as fast as she’d crumbled into an uncontrollable sobbing heap afterward. From what she witnessed, he’d gone easy on her, likely due to her inexperience and denial. But there was more than the destruction of her preconceived notions about herself she was having trouble reconciling with. The welcoming comfort of his arms wrapped around her, his caring, protective hold and considerate silence while she fell apart had barely registered until he released her to feel bereft and alone.