Finders Keepers (Fairy Tales After Dark Book 2)

by Jessica Collins

  She could hear him moving around behind her and she chanced a peek in his direction. A swat from his hand against her backside had her regretting the decision. “Lay down,” he repeated, rubbing her reddened cheek only after she complied.

  Lifting her leg behind her knee, he helped her put her leg up onto the pad, then repeat his assistance on the other side. The position pushed her body forward, her ass high in the air, thighs against the padded edge.

  Using the nylon bindings he’d shown her before she’d laid down, he secured it over her ankle, tying her in place. Squirming, she lifted her chest up, but his hand on her back pushed her back down, holding her in place as he secured the other ankle.

  She lifted to her arms again, cocking her head to look at him. Moving to her side, he took her wrist, kissing the inner skin. Relaxing into his touch, she grunted as he pulled, bending her elbow, and tying her wrist to the arm pad on her side.

  “You could have just asked,” she teased, motioning to her bindings. She had to admit — she loved “almost rough” Alistair. His grip tight enough to force her movements, but loose enough not to have her feeling suffocated.

  “I told you, twice. You didn’t listen,” he remarked, the depth of his tone clenching her stomach.

  Grazing her other wrist, he pulled it into the strap, securing her in. Crouched to her side, he leaned forward, kissing her.

  “What’s your safe word?” he asked, softly.

  Clearing her throat, she spoke her name. “Jasmine.”

  “Jasmine,” he repeated. “If you say ‘jasmine’ everything stops. If you say yellow, it means you’re growing uncomfortable. I will take it into consideration — I may or may not stop. Understood?”

  She nodded. She always understood. He repeated the same line to her constantly, every time she was to be bound. The repetition serving as the reminder that he knew she had limits was comforting. She’d used the term “yellow” a few times, with Alistair knowing exactly when to ease up, and when to push. “Jasmine” had never been uttered during their play.

  Kissing her lips, he stood, moving behind her.

  She could only imagine how she looked — bent forward, head tilted down, ass in the air, legs spread. Her skirt, too short to provide coverage at this angle, lifting, giving him a view of her lace panties — and what lay beneath.

  Air brushed her hips as he lifted the faux leather of the dress, baring her full backside to him. His thumbs tucked under the waistband of her panties, pulling the material over her ass, down her thighs, stretching them until they rested in the crease of her knees.

  His fingertips caressed her calf, trailing down to her foot, removing first the left heel, then the right, before trailing back up her thighs. His touch set her ablaze, and covered her in goosebumps.

  She squeezed her hands into fists and released, then took several deep breaths, trying to relax.

  Kneading her ass, he spoke. “It pleases me to be in here. Alone. I worried you’d want to try a scene in front of others.”

  A snort escaped. “I thought you could read me, Sir. Should have known I’d never want—”

  The swat against her ass, this time not unexpected, stung just the same, her skin beginning to heat.

  She craned her neck, looking for where he moved to, when his body stopped in front of her. He crouched down so she could see what he held in his hands — a leather crop — a heart shaped pad affixed to a long, black pole, with a flogger on the other end.

  From his pocket he pulled another toy, which he held in his open palm.

  “Oh, hell no,” she squealed, squirming, staring at the butt plug.

  “Do you need to use your safe word?” he asked, voice light.

  The hand with the crop brushed through her hair, calming her. Looking into his gaze for a moment, she shook her head. “No, Sir,” she whispered, shutting her eyes tight with embarrassment of where the plug would be heading.

  Kissing her forehead, he praised her as he moved again. “Good girl.”

  The two words flowed through her veins, a balm. She wanted to be his good girl. Hearing the words elated her.

  “Deep breath, Princess,” he cooed.

  Following his instruction, she took a deep breath just as the wet tip of the lubricated plug entered her puckered hole. She squirmed again, but his palm on the small of her back and his voice stilled her movements.

  “Relax.”

  He pushed the jeweled toy further in, her tight hole stretching against the bulbous head of the plug. The pain was hot, intense. As the largest width of the toy entered her ass, she tightened around the invasion. He rubbed the back of her thighs until her body no longer fought against him.

  Jayla focused on her breathing, giving him the opportunity to push the lubed toy the remaining way in.

  He rubbed her ass cheeks, helping her body acclimate to the foreign object with the distraction. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. She inhaled deeply, relaxing her muscles. As he continued to rub the globes of her ass, he trailed his fingers down her crevice, barely touching her slit, and she began to warm.

  He continued to tease her slit, and suddenly, the plug felt … good. She bit her lip to avoid moaning.

  Continuing his ministrations, her hips rocked toward him, wanting his fingers inside of her. Instead, they moved to the flat head, turning it slightly, twisting the plug inside of her before removing it a few centimeters, pushing back in.

  This time, she couldn’t contain the sound.

  “You like your ass full?” he asked, a smile in his tone.

  “Fuck off,” she replied, not wanting to admit just how good it felt.

  Pulling the toy out further, he pushed it back in, just as he pushed two fingers into her pussy. She clenched tightly around both, gasping at the fullness.

  He laughed, darkly. “Gonna need your help for that, Princess.”

  He continued the motions, rubbing her insides from both ends, the pleasure growing. He tapped on the jewel, sending a vibration through her ass. She yelped, the noise turning to a mewl in her throat.

  He moved his fingers faster, rubbing against her with precision, hitting all the right spots. Her muscles tensed as her orgasm built, growing near.

  Suddenly, he stopped. The sound of the pad striking his palm made her jump against the bench. His smile — positively wicked. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer. If I think you’re lying, you’ll be punished. If I think you’re telling the truth, rewarded.”

  Her mouth opened in shock. “You’re going to interrogate me? Now?!”

  She needed him to finish her first.

  “Yes.”

  Huffing, her eyes narrowed as she looked back at him. “What if I’m not lying, but you think I am.”

  His head tilted. “Guess I can’t read you as well as I thought then, now can I?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from the words she spoke only moments ago.

  Fucker.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Perfection lay before him.

  Jayla’s ass and pussy were on full display. The plug’s deep turquoise gemstone shone against her olive skin. And the lips below dripped with need. Rubbing himself through his pants, his cock strained against the material.

  This would torture him much more than it would her. That was the ironic thing about being a Dominant. He may be controlling the scene, but it meant restricting himself.

  With no warning, he flicked his wrist, sending the leather crop against her cheek. It reddened immediately from the swats.

  He continued for a few moments, the strikes landing near, but not on the exact same spots, keeping her nerves firing. Never hitting hard enough to harm her, just enough for the blood to rush to her ass, for a quick sting, followed by a rush of relief. Glancing a peek, her cheek pressed into the bench, her mouth opening as her eyes flitted closed. Enjoying this. He smiled at her reactions.

  When the crop landed on the jeweled plug, she moaned, closing her eyelids tight before biting her lip.

&nb
sp; Stopping, he caressed her skin with the leather, running the head of the crop down her thigh and back up, brushing it through the folds of her pussy, rubbing against her clit.

  Her legs tensed as her body squirmed, looking for more pressure. He took a breath, needing to center himself. He planned on teasing her, keeping her on edge for a while. If she kept enjoying it this damn much, then he would be the one who couldn’t last.

  My perfect Jayla.

  He spoke, using the tone indicating seriousness. In this club, it was the tone which had subs falling to their knees, awaiting his next command. Knowing Jayla, she’d just tell him to fuck off, again.

  “Like I said before, Jayla. Tell the truth, and you’ll be rewarded.” On the last word, he rubbed her clit harder.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, starting easy.

  “Jayla,” she breathed.

  Moving the crop, he swatted her right cheek. “You changed your name.”

  Her eyes opened, looking to him, before narrowing.

  Still not ready to tell me? Her refusal stung, yet he pushed through, changing tactics. “Is the club what you expected?”

  She took a breath, thinking. “Yes, and no. I thought there would be more sex. Like, all over.”

  He laughed, moving the crop back between her thighs. “Not enough sex for you?”

  “Not right now, it’s not,” she cooed.

  Tease. Bending over her, he whispered into her ear. “I’ll be remedying that shortly, Princess.”

  Her body visibly trembled.

  “Have you ever had anything in your ass before?” he asked, wanting the answer to be no.

  “Yes.”

  Damn. “And?”

  “Let’s just say you took more time with that little toy, than he did with his entire cock,” she answered, looking away.

  His jaw clenched at the thought of someone using such an intimate moment for their pleasure alone, harming her in the process.

  “Would you want to try again?” Say yes.

  “With you?”

  “Yes.” Say yes!

  “Maybe. Not now, though,” she qualified, quickly.

  Smiling, he bent forward, placing a kiss on each ass cheek. “Good enough for now.”

  Moving back, he asked another question. “What’s your biggest sexual fantasy?”

  “What?” she asked, voice shocked.

  He swatted her ass twice, once for not listening, once to bring her back to the moment.

  “I-I don’t know,” she answered.

  He tilted his head, waiting for more.

  “I haven’t really thought of any, I guess.”

  “Let’s figure it out then.”

  “What?”

  Smack.

  “Are you with one person, or multiple?” he asked, brow cocked.

  “One,” she answered, her head turning back to the bench. He swatted her ass for the motion.

  “Look at me while you speak.”

  She obeyed, yet not without an eye roll. He swatted her again, cocking his brow, until she wiped the look off her face.

  “So. One person?”

  “Yes…” Her voice trailed out on the word. He knew she was holding back.

  “Yes?” He moved the crop, rubbing her pussy again, using it as a distraction, to get her to the truth, without embarrassment.

  Her breathing slowed. Long, drawn breaths with each caress of the crop. He stilled, knowing she’d do everything in her power not to alert she was on edge.

  She answered quickly enough, if only to get him to move again. “People are watching.”

  Interesting. His lips curled. Perhaps he had read her correctly after all. He’d scened publicly before, going so far as fucking other subs with spectators. A flash of jealousy coursed through him, wanting her all for himself. He continued the motions with the crop, rubbing against her clit, then through her folds, ensuring she couldn’t get off. Yet.

  Shaking his head, he continued. “What are you to doing?”

  “I’m touching him,” she answered, voice strained.

  “Oh?”

  “I have him … in my mouth. He has his hands in my hair, pulling me to him, while others watch.”

  This was a pleasant surprise, the idea Jayla wanted to give oral. She had moved down toward him in the past, but he always pulled her back up, pleasuring her instead. He loved the taste of her pussy, never wanting it off his tongue for long. I guess I could give her what she wants, he thought with a smug grin.

  “And when he comes, do you swallow?” His voice strained, the urge for her apparent. His hand found his crotch again, rubbing the length of himself as he imagined her, on her knees, taking him down her throat.

  She opened her eyes, her gaze dropping to his hand. Her pink tongue darted out, licking her bottom lip before pulling it between her teeth.

  Rubbing harder, he opened his stance, allowing her to watch. He continued to play with them both, teasing them together. Her hands curled into fists, the fingers wiggling back out, as if she imagined herself being the one touching him.

  Engaged in the moment, he hadn’t immediately realized she hadn’t answered. He moved the crop, swatting the plug. She cried out, her eyes rolling back. He did it again, a few times in succession, moving down her ass, her thighs, back up to the jewel nestled in the center of her ass. Her moans grew, her breathing quickening. The smell of her arousal flooded his nostrils. His gaze shifted, noting the wetness coating her legs. Fucking hell.

  He swatted her again, this time harder, intending to get her attention. It worked.

  “Would you swallow my cum?” he asked, realizing too late he’d made it personal, instead of her fantasy.

  Her gaze shifting back to his. Her eyes were hooded, so close to her orgasm. She spoke, her sultry voice hitting him right in the gut, his cock jerking in response. “I’d do anything you asked, Sir.”

  The slow descent of his zipper echoed through the room.

  His shirt was off, the definition of his tattooed arms, chest, abs, on full display. Every corded part of him tense. His jaw tight, his eyes — oh, his eyes — were transfixed on her, smoldering.

  He grunted low, a drop of pre-cum moistening the tip of his cock as his hand started to caress his skin. His roughened voice caused her stomach to clench.

  “Want to know what I thought the first time I saw you — on the street?” he asked, his jaw tight. “I wanted to shove you against the wall right there. Fuck you senseless. I’ve never had such an immediate need for someone. And then … you spoke.”

  He moaned, swallowing before speaking again. “Not giving me one damn inch. I wanted even more to watch you writhe underneath me, to make you submit to me.” He accentuated by looking down at his cock, biting his lip. “The more I got to know you, to be with you, the more the need grew. I wanted to be everywhere inside you — your body, your mind. Your spirit. I wanted you to need me as badly as I needed you.”

  Watching, she was mesmerized by his hands, the ones with the ability for both pleasure, and pain — a pleasurable pain — moving along his equally impressive cock. His admission, how he wanted her immediately. The same way she wanted him. Even though she hadn’t fully accepted it at the time. A feeling rushed through her, of ownership. The man in front of her — hers. Every part of him belonging to her. She needed to be the one pleasuring him. She needed to be the one he came to, ran to, needed to be with.

  The feeling scared the shit out of her.

  Pushing it aside, she tried to focus on her own physical needs.

  Aww, hell. He’s moving his hand faster.

  “The first time you let me kiss you, I thought my heart would break through my chest. The first time you let me taste your sweet pussy — heaven. I was hooked. And now, seeing you tied like this … for me. Wanting my cum down your throat? I’m fucking obsessed.”

  His breathing quickened, his hand working his shaft, twisting. More pre-cum dotted the tip. Not removing his eyes from hers, he moved his thumb over the area, wet
ting himself. His broad shoulders tensed, a low grunt escaping his throat.

  He’s going to come.

  No!

  She squirmed, struggling against the bindings. “No, please!” Her skin pricked, heat spreading through her at her movements. Before, the pain had ebbed quickly with each stroke, the rush of blood to her skin a second pain, before relief setting in. He hadn’t hit her hard — she knew that well enough. Now, her movements caused another rush, the soreness digging into her.

  “Please what, Princess?” his voice sinful, dark, hands still moving.

  “Please, let me. Use me.” Harder now, she shifted, her hands trying to reach the binding, unable to clasp it. She pushed up, but she only managed to put a few inches between her chest and the bench.

  Don’t. Not without me.

  “Do you want me?” he asked, voice breaking with his strokes.

  “Yes, Sir,” she panted, still wiggling about. The anal plug moved with her, deepening as she struggled. She moaned, her body falling back to the padded bench.

  “You need me?”

  “Yes!” Now, she couldn’t move. Her body on fire with sensations, with need. Please.

  His voice softened. “Do you trust me?”

  This was it. The question he had in mind all night. Her heart knew it. She’d told him before — multiple times. But this … tonight … this was different.

  “I trust you, Alistair.”

  He growled, the sound reverberating from his chest in the small room. With two strides, his thighs met the backs of her, entering her fully in one swift thrust.

  She cried out, his cock fighting against her clamping walls, as her orgasm rocked through her.

  His hands found her hips, fingertips digging in as he pulled her back against the restraints, the nylon taught, cutting deliciously into her skin. She lifted her ass as high as she could, trying to meet his thrusts.

  He bucked harder, the angle penetrating her deeper than ever before. One hand lifted from her hip, spanking her ass, sending the heat rearing back to her skin. As her brain struggled to process the sensation, he moved the plug, pulling it, twisting it, inserting it back inside. With each stroke, he removed it a little further, thrusting it opposite himself, a constant pounding against her.