by Vonna Harper
She didn’t want to talk, not now that he’d started painting a vivid picture of her life as his captive. “Yes. Of course.”
“The pretend woman we’re talking about didn’t. As a result she was totally at the mercy of her captor. Your—that’s right, your head kept sinking beneath the surface. At the last second, he pulled you up and held you against him. Ran his cock between your legs. As soon as you started to relax, to trust, he again let go of you.”
Your hand—making love to my sex. “That’s because he was determined to teach me dependence in a way I’d never forget.” She gulped air. “My life was in the hands of someone who was essentially a stranger. It wasn’t easy.” Like now.
“The important things in life never are. When did sex start?”
Drawing a blank, she shrugged.
“Oh no, I’m not going to let you get away with that.” He punctuated his comment by lightly slapping one breast and then the other. Shocked, she twisted to the side while keeping her lower body still and available. He closed his hand around her throat and anchored her against him.
So much heat. Even with his damnable clothes in the way, his male warmth had settled throughout her. She’d never be able to relax as long as his finger remained lodged within her. Might spend the rest of today wondering if or when he’d slap her again.
Maybe want it.
“That’s as far as my corrections go,” he said as if reading her mind. “I don’t abuse women.”
“What if that’s what a woman wants?”
She was thankful when he didn’t respond since she didn’t know where the question had come from. When he used his crotch-hold to drag her even closer to him, his erection probed at her spine. Feeling as if she’d come home, she pressed back.
“I want to hear more about this fantasy of ours,” he muttered.
Think. “I’m not the only captive in the village, but the others belong to lesser warriors who don’t have access to as many healthy foods as mine do. I have my own teeth and—”
“And that makes the other warriors and women jealous.”
“Yes.” Latching on to the opening he’d given her, she described how her fellow hostages would glare at her when Master paraded her around the village. Warriors tried to rent her but Master refused to let her go.
“So Master knows when he has a good thing. I’m glad he isn’t sub-human.”
“Of course he isn’t. Underneath his aggressive exterior, he never forgets how vital he is to the tribe’s survival. He fights hard, often risks his life. When he relaxes he wants to do it with the most amazing sex slave he’s ever had.”
He chuckled. “Okay, I’ll buy his mindset but what makes her worthy of macho man?”
Talking had briefly distracted her somewhat from Rico’s all-encompassing presence. As he worked his finger deeper into her vagina while shifting his arm-hold from her breasts to her waist, she accepted that he intended to drive home his mastery. Why then had he asked such an unimportant question?
“I told you, she has a mouth full of teeth.”
“Not enough. He wouldn’t be satisfied with a slave who lies there like a lump of clay.”
“No,” she admitted. She’d thought she knew what sexual excitement felt like, but it had never been like this. Always before there’d been a measure of predictability to the foreplay she engaged in, but could she even call what was happening now a prelude to sex?
Sex? Why hadn’t they discussed the possibility? After all the Unchained contract included a paragraph that in essence acknowledged that its clients were adults. They could do what they wanted to.
“The slave—it took her awhile, but she now understands what she must do to please the man she’s so dependent on.” The darkness she’d adapted to started to change. Deep reds now touched the black to give it definition. She almost swore she was standing beside the young woman who wore a collar, cuffs, metal anklets and nothing else. The woman acknowledged her with a nod of her head and a mouthed, “Watch me.”
She could do that—unless Rico kicked her excitement up another notch. It wouldn’t take much.
“As long as Master is in her presence, she doesn’t look at anyone else. If he’s relaxed, she takes his hands and places them on her body. If he’s tense, she stands behind him with her breasts brushing his back and massages his shoulders. She tells him how brave he is.”
“And how good he is in bed.”
“Yes.” She spoke despite the current of need flowing from the top of her head to her toes. “He doesn’t always take her in his bed. Sometimes he prefers to do it with her bent over, but he doesn’t have to push her down because she now senses what he wants and needs before he does. Wise in the thinking process of a masterful man, she’s simply there and ready for him. She keeps her eyes downcast and speaks only when he speaks to her.”
Still anchoring her with a hand against her belly and the other over and in her sex, he took hold of a strand of her hair and pulled up. “Because he has cowed her?” he asked through clenched teeth. “Maybe she’s terrified of him.”
Pain. Delicious pain. “No. His position in the tribe strengthens her. She feeds off his courage. He has taken away her freedom but he also protects her. In his own way he worships her.”
“Why’s that?”
The softly asked question briefly left her lost—or maybe the truth was she’d passed the place of existing separate from him. United. Yes, united. “I think—when he’s with her is the only time he can relax. Even though he hasn’t removed the proof of her captivity, he now fully grasps her dependency on him. She needs him to feel complete. He doesn’t exploit what the rest of the tribe considers her weakness. Instead, he feeds off it. Her body holds his seed. What could be more intimate than that?”
“Maybe nothing,” he whispered.
Seeing no reason for continuing the conversation, she thought about what she’d just said as his presence made even deeper inroads on her psyche. None of her romantic relationships had stripped her down the way these moments with Rico were doing. The connection went far deeper than being helpless and in his arms. It had tapped something primitive in her.
He’d let go of her hair and was stroking her belly. To her disappointment, he ended the intimate contact between her sex and his finger. It would have been worse if he wasn’t now running his sticky finger over her inner thigh. Determined to remain on the sexual mountaintop, she shut down everything except concentrating on his hands.
“Did—” She swallowed. “Is this what you thought was going to happen?”
He rested his chin on the top of her head while continuing the erotic massage. When he spoke, his voice vibrated through her brain. “Are you asking if I signed up with Unchained so I could manhandle some woman?”
“No.” Maybe. “I didn’t mean…” Think! “I guess what I’m trying to figure out is whether anything that’s happened so far has surprised you.”
In the silence that followed, she prided herself on putting together a coherent sentence. At least she hoped it made sense.
“My intention was and remains to be going with the flow. I wanted to feed off your desires.”
“Mine? What about what you need?”
More silence wrapped itself around her punctuated by the domineering yet sensitive hands claiming her flesh. She hadn’t climaxed but the promise was there, sweet and exciting.
“My needs,” he said, “go beyond assuming the role of a dom.”
That surprised her. Unfortunately, she was in no condition to ask him to explain. She also wished she could reach beyond his barriers and learn what was behind his sober tone.
“What can I do for you?” she asked. “You—what you’ve done to me has been incredible. I’d like to return the favor.”
His short chuckle made her nerves spark. She again became aware of the soft music, smelled roses as well as her body’s excitement.
“What I physically want is pretty simple. I’m sure I don’t have to spell it out to you.”
Of course
he didn’t and yet she couldn’t imagine his sexual need was as strong as hers. After all, she’d barely touched him while he’d—oh hell, he’d finger-fucked her.
“It could happen,” she whispered. “We could have sex.”
He shook his head then lifted it off her. “Not yet.”
“Why not?” Why the hell not?
“Have you forgotten? Your contract says you want to explore the submissive lifestyle. We aren’t there yet.”
Frustrated, she tried to press her belly against his hand. “I don’t care.” Despite being off-balance, she managed to close her legs, trapping his hand between her thighs.
Chapter Seven
He was a bastard all right, Rico acknowledged. There was a fine line between building sexual tension to a so-called fever pitch and indefinitely keeping someone on the edge, which was what he’d been doing.
Time to change things.
Time to probe through her layers.
As he grabbed her shoulders and set her upright, he shook his head in disbelief. The past however long it had been had been incredible! Some of the most exciting and revealing of his life. But they’d been more than an exercise in pushing her buttons and assessing his reaction. It all came down to intimacy, a breaking down of her personal walls and wanting to do the same himself.
Maybe for the first time in his life.
Thrown even more off balance by the admission, he unhooked the blindfold and drew it off her. Looking less than steady, she faced him. Her hair was stuck to her temples where the band had been and she kept blinking like an owl awakening to a bright morning.
“What about your arms and shoulders?” he asked. “Are they uncomfortable?”
“A little.”
“Enough that you want the cuffs off?”
“Don’t ask,” she muttered. “My comfort isn’t supposed to matter, is it?”
What did the BDSM manual say about a sub’s pain? He’d read that some subs got off on physical discomfort, but he wasn’t sure that was possible.
What he did know was that he wanted today’s experience to be positive for Karmen.
And for him.
“Did you tell family or friends about signing up for an Unchained experience?”
“What? No.”
She’d met his gaze during their exchange. Now her attention headed south. Having her study his erection wasn’t doing his nervous system any good. Despite his considerable sexual experience, he’d never been particularly comfortable discussing the act. The way he looked at it, sex was something one did, not dissected. A few of his sexual partners had questioned his silence in the bedroom. He’d managed to deflect the conversations only to return to them when he was alone. What it all boiled down to was his belief that intercourse was the ultimate intimacy. He couldn’t imagine ever admitting how vulnerable he felt then.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” he belatedly asked. “Aren’t you going to share your adventure with anyone?”
Gnawing on her lower lip, she lifted her head. “I’m sharing with you. Maybe that’s enough.”
But they weren’t really having a discussion and the longer they were together, the more that weighed on his mind.
“What about you?” she asked. “Are your friends waiting to hear all about what happened?” She briefly closed her eyes. “I can’t stop you from bragging about your conquest. I just hope you won’t tell anyone my name.”
It hadn’t occurred to him to give anyone the details and even if he was tempted, who would it be?
The question pressed down on him. Determined not to let that continue, he looked around. His gaze settled on the nipple clamps he’d dropped on the bed earlier. Making sure she saw what he was doing, he picked them up and held them before her. Her eyes widened.
“Here’s proof of what a true submissive is willing to endure,” he said. “She does so both so her master knows what she’s willing to put up with to please him and because some submissives really do get off on pain. Are you one of them?”
Her mouth opened and closed. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “Just looking at them—they scare me.”
Maybe as much as the thought of closing the clamps around her nipples unnerved him. As he let one clip dangle from the slender linking chain, he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that he’d started this discussion. It was light-years away from a workplace conversation. Certainly he’d never broached anything like this around his family.
“I don’t blame you,” he said. He’d already handled her breasts as if they belonged to him so what was so hard about picturing clamps gripping her nipples? “I want you to call the shots here. Do you want to give it a try?”
When a shudder ran through her, he thought not just of what she was trying to contemplate but what he might do to help her make the decision. It all came down to trust, didn’t it? If he’d won her confidence, she’d let him slide the clamps into place. He’d touch her again, take control of her body in ways that went far beyond helping her strip off her clothes, even placing handcuffs on her.
“I wish you hadn’t asked,” she admitted at length. “I think it would be easier if it just happened.”
“But you aren’t sure.”
She sank back onto the bed and slumped over a little. Her legs were slightly parted making it nearly impossible for him to keep his mind on the conversation. After giving her crotch a disinterested glance, she went back to staring at the clamps.
“I have my doubts about the lifestyle,” she admitted. “I was pretty certain it wouldn’t be a natural fit but—call it curiosity.”
He could say the same thing about himself even though his motivations went deeper, as he suspected was true for her. Touching her might turn out to be his downfall since it took all his willpower not to plant his cock in the opening his finger had explored. Good thing he’d taken the precaution of keeping his clothes on.
“Is there any one specific thing that makes you question whether BDSM is for you?”
Watching her expression, he wondered how he’d respond if she asked him the same thing. Things would be easier right now if he’d kept the blindfold in place.
“No one thing,” she whispered.
“Are you sure?” Eager to see her reaction, he started the dangling clip to swaying and aimed it at her left breast. “You’re wearing cuffs. Nothing but cuffs. And you didn’t object when I fingered you.”
Just like that her expression changed to confusion and apprehension with a little anticipation dusted in. Blood rushed to his temples. It felt as if someone had lit his nerve endings on fire. Talking had run its course. He needed more action.
“I was scared once,” she whispered. “Terrified. I’ve spent years making sure that never again happens.”
He wouldn’t put her through another nightmare, damn it. But neither was he willing to back away from whatever was taking place between them. The longer he kept tapping her breasts with the clamp, the more he wanted to take the next step—and for her to experience her own journey.
“We’ll talk about that but not now. Remember the savage or warlord who captured you?”
“Yes. Of course.” Apprehension faded from her to be replaced by eagerness. Now he was glad he could see her eyes.
“He’s been a busy man,” he explained. “On a raiding mission that has taken him and his fellow warriors farther than they’ve ever traveled.”
He closed the scant distance between them and slid his knee between her legs. Taking his cue from her lack of resistance, he settled into the space he’d created. Her legs were widely spread now, and she had to lean forward a little to keep her balance. She stopped trying to look up at him, staring instead at his chest. He grew warmer there.
Talk. Keep the fantasy going so maybe it’ll lead somewhere. “The raiders met up with some slave traders who, in exchange for not being robbed, let them partake of the human merchandise.”
Keeping her body still, she nodded. “They—would do that.”
“Their leade
r—our savage—wasn’t content to just have his itches scratched. He wanted to learn the traders’ techniques for keeping slaves in line. This,” he ran the clamp between her breasts, “turned out to be their most effective tool for all the reasons I’m sure you suspect. He brought one back to his captive and used it on her.”
Karmen’s mouth again opened. This time it stayed that way.
“She didn’t want him to apply it,” he continued. “But she didn’t have a choice. Besides, the savage was her lord.”
“Her master,” Karmen whispered. “She wanted to be worthy of him so she—suffered for him.”
“Not just suffer.” Barely believing what he was doing, he closed his fingers around her left breast. “She also found a submissive’s joy in the act.”
Karmen tried to look up at him but stopped when she started to tip backward. “She—once her submission pleased her master, she asked him to parade her before the rest of the tribe.”
“Because in wearing nipple clamps she could demonstrate in ways she couldn’t before that she was worthy of their war leader.”
“Yes.”
He had her. Despite his inexperience in the lifestyle they’d been dancing around, he’d guided her into a space reserved for those who lived to submit. The transformation probably wouldn’t last long. Not only did he need to seize the opportunity, it was the only thing he wanted from life.
Casting aside all question and doubt, he opened the clamp’s mouth and centered it around her nipple. Time all but stopped as he slowly closed the jaws. He was taking her, claiming her, declaring his ownership.
“God,” she whispered. “Oh god.”
“Too much?”
Eyes wide, she studied what he’d done to her. She was holding her breath and her legs pressed against his while her toes dug into the carpet.
“No. Give—please give me a minute to—then the other one.”
Please. A word a submissive would say to the man who dominated her. He’d forgotten about her diminutive stature. Now his awareness returned along with an image of a dark, scarred savage standing over his naked and bowed hostage.