by Vonna Harper
He was waiting, maybe growing impatient. Putting his comfort and pleasure first, she scooted around so she was lengthwise on the bed and leaned back until her head rested on a pillow. Turning it so she could study him, she spread her legs wide. As her final act of submission, she reached over her head and grasped one of the vertical metal bars on the headboard.
After what felt like half a lifetime, he stepped to the bed, picked up the nipple clamps, and spread them over her breasts. The symbolism couldn’t have been clearer. He’d claimed her.
Maybe the next time he’d fasten them to her before fucking her.
A crazy wave of heat slammed into her, making her whine. He didn’t want her to speak so she did the only thing she could think of which was to bend her knees, thus exposing even more of her sex to him. She likened herself to a dog in heat—or maybe a sex slave conditioned to serve her master in all ways.
She wasn’t there yet, not a submissive. The journey, if undertaken, would be a long one, but maybe, maybe, with Master Rico guiding her—
His expression remained hooded as he climbed onto the bed and knelt between her legs. “I’m having trouble believing you’ve never acted the sub.” He rested his hands over her hipbones. Despite the light touch, she felt as if she’d been chained to the bed, deliciously chained.
“I could say the same thing about your ability to command.”
The corners of his mouth lifted. “I’m a fast learner. Having a receptive student makes it easier.”
“Not a student. Your—whatever you want me to be.”
“My sex partner.”
He hadn’t modified his comment by adding today. “I want what you do.”
She tried to lift her buttocks off the bed but he wouldn’t let her. “It might be a hell of a ride.”
I’m ready! Ready as never before!
She belatedly realized she hadn’t responded to his comment—and during the silence, he’d grabbed her ankles and bent her legs even more deeply.
“I’m modifying some of what I told you earlier, making some alterations to our current relationship. You’re mine. Right now you belong to me. I can and will do whatever I want to you.” Her heels now pressed against her buttocks. “Do you feel the burn all through your legs?”
Instead of reaching for the air she needed, she increased her hold on the bar and stared up at the masculine figure looming over her. She was dizzy, strung somewhere between anticipation and the desire to live in this moment.
“Yes. It feels as if—like you’ve tied them.”
“Don’t tempt me. There’s rope around here somewhere.”
Something pressed against her toes. He’d braced her with his knees. Smiling, he held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. “That’s what freedom of movement looks like,” he said as his hands dropped out of view. “I mention it because you might forget considering the predicament you’re in.”
Despite her jangled nerves, she managed to smile in return. “I’m not complaining.”
“There’s more than one kind of complaint. I want to see how long you can handle a certain manipulation I’ve come up with. The longer you put off cursing me, the higher your grade will be.”
“This is a test?”
“I’m more inclined to call it a study. Pay attention. In fact that’s all you have to do.”
He was driving her crazy with his non-explanation. More to the point, she couldn’t see his hands and was utterly, completely at his mercy. At the thought, a delighted shiver raced through her.
“Anticipation?” he asked. “That’s exactly what I wanted to see from you. All right, here goes. I don’t require a blow-by-blow description. You can make whatever sounds you feel are necessary, just don’t try to escape.”
Escape?
Before she could decide whether he was warning or promising, something strong and warm glided over her slit. She recognized the something as his finger, a silent, teasing hint of what she prayed would come. An almost inaudible moan slid out of her.
“That’s what I want to hear.” He again ran his finger over her opening.
Just like that she was lost. Her body was both anchored to the bed and weightless. No matter how much she tried to anticipate his next move, he always caught her unaware. He randomly slipped a finger deep into her, brushed a nail over her soaked labia, or pressed against her swollen clit. The clit touches were the hardest to weather in part because she never knew whether the pressure would last a heartbeat or much, much longer. Each time, no matter how much she wanted this, her overloaded body tried to flee the exquisite torture.
“You aren’t going anywhere,” he ground out. “You’re right where I want you, mine to play with.”
“I want—I need…”
“You must learn patience. You’ve learned many things in life, right?”
Was she supposed to answer? Confused, she blinked trying to clear her vision. He remained a dark and imposing figure while she was what? His plaything?
Grunting, she let go of the bar behind her head and started to reach for him.
“Stop. Put your arms back where they belong. Believe me, I’d love to have your hands on me but I also want to take you like this.”
Like this. Barely capable of following his logic, she again gripped the bar. She loved having him do as he pleased with her—and trusting him so much.
He gripped her ankles, straightened and lifted her legs, and rested her calves on his shoulders. Next he slid his hands under her buttocks and hoisted her up. His hot, moist breath rushed over her sex. Squealing, she struggled not to move.
“So sweet.” He touched his tongue to her opening.
Stop it! I can’t—no, don’t stop. Eat me. Make me crazy.
Maybe he’d heard her. Maybe he was locked within his own desires. The reason didn’t matter, only his tongue relentlessly gliding over her pussy did. She bucked and shuddered, gripped the bar as if she’d drown without it. She knew how to use leverage and surprise to disarm an assailant but this was different. On another planet.
“Good, good, good,” she chanted. She was on fire from the waist down and her upper body wasn’t in much better shape. This man she hadn’t known existed a few hours ago had her in his grip. He lapped and suckled and she rewarded him with her endless juices. She might be dissolving, becoming less than whole.
Her awareness tunneled down until she lost awareness of her limbs. A burning sensation in her spine hinted that her body wasn’t hinged for this, but there was only his tongue, his breath, sometimes his lips, even his teeth.
And her shuddering, shivering, begging for—for what?
A rolling tidal wave slammed into her. She knew what a climax felt like but this was over the top. Skin-melting. Going on and on. Killing her. She drifted off, started to come back, drifted again. All the while her sex muscles twitched.
He eased her ass back down, settled her legs on either side of his, and cupped a hand over her pussy. The small part of her mind that still functioned concluded he intended to share her experience while everything else rode the undulating wave. Her fingers loosened, her mouth fell open, and she went blind.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
His voice barely registered, yet despite how deliciously destroyed she’d become, she forced the pieces of herself into some kind of whole.
“Some things are beyond words.” She spoke around a sore throat. “How about incredible? I’m sorry but…”
He brought her arms to him and kissed her fingertips. “Let me take a guess. You got off, right?”
Got off didn’t begin to describe the experience, but she didn’t try to correct him. She’d found her body, not that it was much good. If this was what being a savage’s captive was like, where did she sign up?
Thinking he might have the answer, she closed and then opened her eyes. He came into focus, all-consuming focus.
“I’ve never experienced anything like—I guess I’d compare it to riding a bike versus a sports car.”
&n
bsp; “I take it you just rode the sports car.”
She laughed followed by losing her train of thought while he nibbled on her fingers. The cuffs felt right against her wrists.
“How did you do it?” she finally asked.
“Do what?”
“Make my body respond the way it did.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure.”
His tone caught and held her attention. “Seriously?”
Instead of responding, he let go of her hands and scooted back on his knees. Rolling her head to the side provided her with a clear view of his swollen penis. Maybe she could remove the condom and take him into her mouth, express her gratitude with action.
“I’m in uncharted territory.” He wrapped a hand around his cock and began stroking it. “Today is pretty new for me too.”
“I’m glad.” The words were barely out of her mouth when she decided to be serious instead of flippant. Sitting up made her dizzy and she had to wait until the sensation faded. She loved having him loom over her. She also loved sitting across from him with her spent pussy in view. Soon, she promised herself, she’d grant him the release he deserved and she longed to give him but first she needed to pull her thoughts together.
“By today being new for you,” she started, “were you talking about dipping your toes into BDSM? Maybe it went deeper.”
The hand on his cock stilled, and he sat straighter. “What do you mean by deeper?”
Darn it, wasn’t she the one asking questions? But maybe he needed help getting started, unless she’d read him completely wrong.
“You’re more than just in charge. It’s as if—you knew me better than I did myself.” She indicated her cuffed wrists then stared at the nipple clamps. “You knew what I was and wasn’t ready to experience. Pretending we were savages—”
“I was the savage. You were my hostage.”
“Exactly.” She leaned forward and brushed her fingers over his cheek. “I embraced my role because you did your part. I’m starting to have some idea of the appeal of BDSM.”
“It’s something you might want to explore?”
She nodded. “I never thought I’d say that but yes. Rico, I deeply appreciate your insight.” She twisted her hands, seeing how much she could do with them and reminding herself of the erotic restraint. “Your being tuned in to me made all the difference.”
Still holding on to his erection, he closed his other hand around both of hers, stopping their movement. “I was,” he muttered. “I really was.”
His hold awakened the part of her she thought would remain unconscious for the rest of the day. “You sound surprised.”
“Insight isn’t something I’m known for.”
“What? You couldn’t manage all those employees if—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
Sometimes waiting and listening were more important than talking. This, she sensed, was one of those times. Other than a slow nod, she didn’t move. Sitting so close to him was incredibly distracting.
“I take total responsibility for the big issues at work,” he said. “The buck stops with me. I’m good with time management and innovation. But I rely on the personnel department to handle—what do they call it, interpersonal issues?”
“I think so.”
“Relationships have never been my strong suit.”
Mine either, at least not romantic ones.
“I’m not sure why,” he said.
Chapter Ten
The words hung in the air as Rico slid off the bed and walked to the far end of the room. Keeping her arousal under wraps should be easier now that she wasn’t feeling his warmth but it wasn’t. She would have joined him if she hadn’t sensed he needed his space. Aware of every inch of both of their bodies, she positioned herself so she was on the side of the bed with her short legs not quite reaching the floor. Her breasts tightened, her core heated.
“I’ve always been that way,” he said. “My number one character flaw.”
Again she contemplated saying something to help him continue but didn’t. He looked too big for the room, as if he needed to break free. Then he sighed and shook his head.
“You’ve probably figured out that I’m Hispanic. All of my grandparents came to this country as illegals but eventually got their green cards. Their children are American citizens. I’m the first member of my extended family to get a college degree. They’re all proud of me—at least they say they are. That degree played a role in my being able to get the loans I needed to start my business. I pay the salaries of five family members.”
“Do you think they resent your success?” Darn it, she was going to stay silent.
“I’ve never seen any sign of it. There’s some envy, which is understandable but to hear my parents, I could become President if I put my mind to it.”
She tilted her head and started swinging her legs, only to stop because her pussy didn’t need anything remotely resembling stimulation.
“I’m the oldest grandchild, the one my siblings and cousins point to when they’re trying to motivate their children. Just last month my brother told his son I’d have a job waiting for him once he finishes college.”
“How old is your nephew?”
“Eight.”
“Only eight? He’s much too young to care about that.”
“Exactly. But while Alejandro just wants to ride his bike, I get the message. I’m responsible for the family’s financial well-being.”
His fingers curled into fists. Studying not just his erect cock but all of him, she started to get it. Maybe it was seeing him standing there all alone. Maybe it was because they’d already shared so much. Whatever the reason, she was grateful for his every word.
“It’s isolating for you,” she said. “The others can occasionally kick back and relax knowing Uncle Rico will keep a roof over their heads. All the pressure is on your shoulders. There’s no one you can talk to about it.”
He stopped rocking back and forth.
“I’m just guessing,” she hurried to say. “But because I’m self-employed, the buck stops with me too, just not to the extent it does with you. I don’t tell my family or friends when I’m worried I might not have enough students to pay the bills.” She shrugged. “Worrying is bad enough without having to tell anyone about the knot in my stomach.”
“Isolating,” he muttered. “Yeah, it is.”
Buoyed by his response, she continued. “No matter how much your family loves and admires you, they aren’t walking in your shoes. That keeps you apart from them. Carrying loads your employees and clients don’t fully understand either.”
“I don’t want them to. Those are my loads, not theirs.”
What would those people think if they could hear him right now? Would they understand him in ways they hadn’t before? Maybe help him open up?
None of them were here now, only she was.
She stood. “It’s lonely at the top.” She started toward him.
“That sounds as if I’m needy, which I’m not.”
She’d never think that of him. What she did comprehend with every fiber of her being was that they’d said enough for now. It was time for action. Filling a primal need.
“I’ll psychoanalyze you some more another time,” she told him as she held out her hands. “I have to keep my rates low until I get my degree from that off-shore diploma mill so it’ll be a good deal.”
He wrapped his fingers around the handcuff links and drew her against him. “You think I’m the only one who needs a shrink? All this time you thought you were a kick-ass independent woman. Look at you now.”
Even though she knew how dangerous looking into his eyes was, she did so. His cock was there, potent, demanding, life-affirming. Touching her deeply.
“Maybe we can get a group rate,” she managed.
“Maybe. Later.”
He didn’t care what he was saying but neither did she. They’d been apart for too long, maybe a full two minutes.
Everything else went away the instant his lips touched hers. She was vaguely aware that he was carrying her somewhere, but where didn’t matter. Sex was intimate while this—kissing spoke of something even deeper than fucking, tenderness, communication. There was nothing bruising about the contact, nothing sexual even. His lips were soft and warm, flesh brushing flesh, whispering of intimacy.
Lightheaded from the depth of what she was experiencing, she pressed her breasts to him while making sure metal didn’t press against the back of his neck. She felt safe in his arms, alive.
Maybe loved.
“We’re there.” He spoke with his lips still on hers.
Still swimming in the sweet gift of their kiss, she lifted her arms so he could duck and deposit her on the bed. He did so with care, easing her onto her back. She tilted toward him as he crawled onto the mattress.
“Your turn,” she told him as she opened her legs for him. “My gift to you.”
“Not something a dom demands of his submissive?”
She shook her head. “Right now we’re equals.” All except for the cuffs.
Judging by his expression, he was mulling over what she’d said. He didn’t say anything, simply spread his hands over her ankles and lifted and bent her legs until her thighs were against her stomach. When he leaned over her and imprisoned her between his body and the bed, she understood.
Their relationship was being defined. They were equals and yet they weren’t. He was in charge, in control—because that’s what they both needed.
Whimpering her need, she again gripped the iron bar behind her. Waited. Shook.
He pushed into her, a slow, all-consuming invasion.
“I don’t want to rely on make-believe anymore,” he said. “I’m going to be honest about my needs and expect the same from you. That’s going to take a while.”