L is for… (BDSM Checklist Book 12)

by L. DuBois

  Victoria barely noticed because there was a bump when they passed from the dirt of the aisle to the rubbery flooring inside the fence. And as the back tire went over that bump she got fucked by a motorcycle. The dildo thrust up hard into her, her pussy pulsing in pleasure, twin spikes of desire and fear lancing through her.

  Cain kept turning, until they were parallel to the fence, and then picked up speed. They couldn’t have been going more than seven or eight miles an hour, but the increased speed meant more intense vibrations.

  “Oh, God.” Victoria tightened her arms around him.

  “Enjoying yourself?”

  “This is…” How to finish the sentence.

  It was sexy and terrifying.

  Demeaning and erotic.

  She’d never been fucked by a machine before. Battery operated sex toys, sure. A Dom wielding a dildo wasn’t part of her normal scenes, not in the last few years at least, but it had happened.

  This was different.

  They’d reached the end of the arena and Cain turned them in a swooping arc, the speed slowing a bit. Now they did lean, but she didn’t care. She should have. If they tipped over she was in trouble. A tube top of lace wasn’t going to protect her from road rash. She wanted to laugh, because in contract negotiations they’d discussed that they both preferred RACK—Risk Aware Consensual Kink over SSC Safe, Sane, and Consensual.

  This definitely wasn’t sane.

  Concern over falling was distant, because as he leaned them slightly into the turn, the dildo shifted inside her, pressing against her insides in a way that was foreign and delicious.

  They hit the long straight of the other side, and Cain picked up speed. Her whole pussy vibrated.

  Then they hit the bump.

  It was no more than a small irregularity in the rubbery surface, but as they went over it, the dildo thrust up, hard. Her taint made contact with the vibrating seat and she came.

  The orgasm ripped through her, surprising her. Her pussy clenched around the dildo and the delicious fullness created a pleasure feedback loop.

  Victoria sank her teeth into Cain’s shoulder, shaking with pleasure.

  The motorcycle slowed as she came down from the orgasm, and she closed her eyes in relief that this wildly erotic interlude was coming to an end. Not because she hadn’t enjoyed it, but because there was too much of a good thing.

  The dildo shifted thanks to some unseen dip and she whimpered, open-mouthed panting against Cain’s bite-marked skin.

  They were almost done with the second turn, heading back to where they’d started—the gate in the middle of one long side.

  They finished the curve…and picked up speed again. Victoria slapped Cain’s pec. “Cain, I came.”

  “I could tell. Kitty has claws.”

  “Stop the bike,” she demanded. They were nearly at the gate and he wasn’t slowing.

  Cain grabbed her wrist, then raised her hand to his mouth. The kiss he laid on her palm was soft, open-mouthed. As tender as her urge to lay her head on his shoulder.

  Then he smiled against her hand. She felt his lips move, and even though she couldn’t quite hear his whispered word over the sound of the bike, she knew what he’d said.

  No.

  Just no.

  The vibrations traveled from the powerful, rumbling engine through the dildo and lips of her pussy, to her orgasm-sensitive clit.

  By the time he’d made another lap, she was hovering on the edge of a second orgasm.

  Then he raised her hand to his mouth and nipped the base of her thumb, before murmuring, “I want you to come again for me, sugar.”

  The motorcycle was loud, and she couldn’t be sure that’s actually what he said, but that’s what she heard. Imagined or real, the tone of his voice, plus the less overtly erotic pleasure of the warmth from his broad, strong back against her soft breasts helped her crest that peak. This time the pleasure was a slow burn that seemed to go on and on, until finally she collapsed against him.

  And Cain didn’t stop.

  The third orgasm came faster, her sex swollen and sensitive. Her vagina throbbed even after her clit had stopped pulsing, the muscles still spasmodically clenching.

  When the pleasure dissipated to the point she could think, she leaned back, the dildo at first pressing against her inner walls before finally shifting with her. It meant losing the skin to skin contact, but her new angle muted the vibration enough that she held off the fourth orgasm.

  Her entire world was reduced to her pulsing pussy, the dildo that vibrated and shifted inside her, occasionally fucking her as they hit a bump.

  Victoria thought she could just enjoy the feeling without worrying about another orgasm. For several minutes she indulged in enjoying the moment. She even closed her eyes and imagined they weren’t in a private, sheltered space, but out on the highway for a Sunday ride, Cain using this as a way to get her pussy ready for fucking.

  It was safe to indulge, because her body was utterly satiated.

  She realized her mistake when lust began to gradually blossom inside her once more—an almost physical pressure in her lower abdomen. Victoria braced herself and leaned forward, tilting her hips so that more of her labia made contact with the seat, which was slick from her juices. That would increase the vibration on her clit, and between that and rubbing her nipples against Cain’s back she had enough physical stimulation that she’d come once more.

  She gritted her teeth and waited for the orgasm. It was right there.

  They made a whole circuit during which she ground her pussy against the seat, fucking herself on the dildo as she shifted her hips back and forth. It was wanton and degrading, grunting and grinding, lasciviously cupping her breasts and tugging on her own nipples in an effort to force the orgasm.

  They made a second loop.

  She couldn’t come.

  The pressure continued to build, but there was no peak she could crest, no sharp edge she could press against to pop the balloon of need and arousal that filled the inside of her skin.

  Panic only added to the feeling of pressure. Victoria dig her nails into Cain’s back, only then noticing the marks she’d already placed on that broad canvas of skin.

  “Cain, Cain.” All she said was his name, but the bike slowed, his feet coming down to control their stop.

  She whimpered as he put down the kickstand. Clung to him as he slid off the bike.

  But he didn’t leave her. He flipped around and got back on, facing her. He didn’t turn the bike off, but now the vibration was so small she knew it wouldn’t be enough.

  Cain took off first his, and then her helmet, tossing them aside. His hands cupped her face, gaze examining her feature by feature.

  “I can’t…I can’t come again,” she whispered.

  His thumbs rubbed her cheeks. “Don’t want to or can’t?”

  When she didn’t answer immediately, his gaze softened. “It’s okay if you want to stop, sugar. It’s all okay. You’re perfect. Perfect.”

  Victoria closed her eyes and leaned her head into his hands. “Can’t. I…I’m too much…It’s not enough…”

  Those statements shouldn’t both be correct.

  Cain dropped his right hand, skating it down her body with only brief pauses to run his palms over her abused nipples. And then his fingers found her soaked, throbbing pussy.

  She jerked when he touched her clit. Her nerve endings were raw, and the sudden direct contact felt like having a live wire shoved into her brain.

  “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, sugar.” He didn’t stop touching her, but his fingers rubbed her labia, avoiding her clit.

  Then he adjusted the hand cupping her cheek, his thumb under her jaw. He tipped her face up. She looked into his eyes. Instead of that arrogant amusement she was used to, he looked unsure.

  “I’d like to kiss you,” he said softly.

  Once again the world seemed to tip and turn around them. An earthquake, but they were safe on bedrock.

  She was
safe with him.

  “I want you to kiss me,” she replied, sounding more like herself, though she was no less shivery from the pressure of the need inside her.

  She watched him close his eyes, tip his head to the side as he lowered his mouth to hers. It was so romantic, so unexpectedly sweet coming from such a delicious brute of a man.

  Victoria closed her eyes, and she was smiling when his lips met hers.

  It started gentle, the still press of lips, a kiss worthy of being backlit by a sunset, the final scene of some epic romance.

  Then she took a breath, and breathed in his scent. Warm and male. He smelled like leather and she knew for the rest of her life, the smell of leather would make her think of these weekends with him.

  It was Victoria who deepened the kiss.

  The moment her tongue touched his lips, he took control. He cupped the back of her head, holding her still as his tongue tasted the inside of her mouth. She opened, yielded…submitted.

  His fingers returned to her clit, circling softly.

  And Victoria came apart in his arms, experiencing the most emotional, erotic, intimate and carnal orgasm of her life as she fucked a motorcycle while Cain kissed her.

  This. This was flying.

  Chapter 13

  Cain leaned against the doorjamb and looked at his woman. She lay flat on her back on the stacked mats he’d hauled in to one of the converted stalls. The thick pad of mats was topped with half a dozen layers of soft blankets, including the chenille blanket from last weekend. He’d kept it. Stuffed it in his locker because he was a fucking moron with a crush and the damned blanket had smelled like her.

  Her legs were slightly spread, and her pussy was slick and plump, flushed a deep pinkish brown. He wanted to taste her there. To lick her not in an effort to arouse her and make her come, but because he could. Because she was his to taste. Because he had the right to fondle her well-used pussy.

  He’d lifted her off the motorcycle, noting the way she winced, and carried her—which she’d objected to, saying dumb shit like she was too heavy—in here. He’d excused himself to the bathroom after glancing at her pretty pussy.

  He’d gone to the bathroom not to piss, but to jerk off. It had taken only three quick pumps to come into a wad of toilet paper.

  Now he was looking at her again and that jerk session had barely taken the edge off.

  A selection of items from his kit, including a leather teaser and a lace dress thing he’d bought for her at Hustler the day after his call with Ciro and Rolf, waited in a small box in the corner. He’d come prepared. The motorcycle had been only the first part of his plans for the night.

  One option he had on his mental list was to tackle two non-leather items. Lingerie and lectures. Put her in the lingerie and then some heavy bondage and ‘lecture’ her about how she didn’t have to be ashamed of her feelings or opinions. She’d probably spit fire after a few minutes. Vic wasn’t the kind of person who liked being talked at.

  Then he could pull her over his lap for a spanking to go with the lecture.

  Another option was a good massage via flogger. He had a super soft deerskin flogger with three dozen tails in the box. If she objected, he’d point out that deerskin was technically a form of leather. He’d planned to use that on her breasts, legs, ass, and shoulders after sliding a good-sized plug into her ass.

  Damn it, there was still so much he wanted to do with her, but looking at her now, even with all those possible options swirling around in his head…what he wanted was to go cuddle her and start aftercare.

  That would be a stupid waste of time. It was barely dark. He only had her for the rest of tonight and tomorrow. And then…

  And then their contract was over.

  Cain shook out his hand. He’d made a fist, and clenched it so tight his fingers hurt.

  Victoria lifted the arm she’d flung over her face. She glared at him, but there was softness in her expression, around her mouth.

  “You broke my vagina.”

  Fuck all the plans. He wanted to lay down beside her and tease her, touch her, just be with her.

  Decision made, Cain relaxed, sitting in the straight chair by the door to take off his boots. “I did? I better have a look.”

  “Stay the hell away from my lady parts.”

  “Is that an order?” He quirked a brow.

  She blew out a slow breath. “Oh, that’s a dirty trick.”

  “Trick?” He stripped off his socks, shoving them in his shoes, then stepped onto the mats and stretched out beside her.

  “Saying something Dom-y to try to get me all hot and bothered.”

  He turned on his side to face her. “Are you all hot and bothered?”

  “I shouldn’t be. That was…I can’t believe you made me fuck a motorcycle.”

  “I can’t believe you enjoyed fucking a motorcycle.” He put a hand in front of his mouth and faux gasped in horror.

  Victoria laughed softly and closed her eyes, smiling.

  Cain set a hand on her bare stomach. She didn’t tense until he slid his hand up to her breasts. He gathered the stretchy lace above her breasts, exposing the pretty, soft mounds which he hadn’t spent enough time with tonight.

  If they stopped for the night, they’d only have tomorrow. And they weren’t done with their list—lingerie, lectures. One night wasn’t going to be enough to do both of those…

  That was utter bullshit, but maybe he could sell it. He’d tell her they needed more time. Negotiate an extension for another weekend.

  And then after that he’d come up with another excuse.

  And another.

  Cain grimaced. This plan depended on him continuing to be a manipulative coward.

  He was okay with it as long as he still had Vic. And he thought she needed him too. He wouldn’t let her hide inside her head. He’d keep her down here on the ground.

  Or, if she really needed, he’d learn to tie ropes. He wouldn’t let her dictate and top from the bottom, but if she needed to hang upside down like a side of meat, he’d make that happen.

  Her hand on his cheek startled him, since he’d been lost in his grimly determined thoughts.

  “Hey.” She rolled so they lay on their sides looking at one another. Her nipples were only an inch from his bare chest. “You okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “Are you?” Her gaze slid down his body. She frowned at his crotch. “You’ve been taking care of me, and I think I need to take care of you.”

  “It’s my job to take care of both of us,” he said gruffly.

  “Oh, of course. Yes, Master.” She fluttered her lashes at him.

  Cain snorted and flopped onto his back when she pushed his shoulder. Her hand settled on his crotch, then pulled back when she encounter a semi.

  “Oh.” She looked away.

  “I was rock fucking hard for you, sugar. Feeling you come, this—” He gestured to the claw marks she’d left on his chest. “I barely made it to the bathroom to jerk off.”

  She took a minute to absorb that, then relaxed. Propping one forearm on his chest, she rested her chin on her elbow so she could look at him. That brought her tit in contact with his ribs and Cain vowed that they would scene again tonight.

  Aftercare, go get some dinner, then start again. Treat it like two separate sessions. Tomorrow he’d deal with making up some bullshit to extend their contract, no matter what they did in tonight’s second scene.

  “I would have liked to watch that,” Vic murmured.

  “You would?” He raised his head a bit.

  “Yeah. I would.”

  Then she did something that fucking broke him. Something he didn’t know he needed until that moment.

  Normally when laying with him or next to him, subs would cuddle up, head on his chest as if he were a part of the damn bed and he’d cuddle them.

  Not his Vic. She threw her leg across his thighs, and her arm across his stomach, tucking her fingers just under the waistband of his leathers. Her other
arm was folded under her head, and she seemed ready to settle in for a nap, touching him possessively, not clinging to him. Clearly wanting to be near him, but not using him as a combination security blanket, pillow, and heat source.

  He’d been right. She was perfect.

  “Victoria, I’ve been lying to you.”

  The words were out of his stupid mouth before he had time to think them all the way through.

  The air around them froze for a moment, the ice crystals in the air breaking when she sat up. Without looking at him, she pulled one of the top blankets loose, jerking the edge out from under his legs. She wrapped it around her shoulders. Cain started to sit up, but thought better of it and stayed down. She deserved the high ground for this conversation.

  “What precisely did you lie about?”

  The cool lawyer was back in her voice.

  “I knew about the game.”

  Her brows went up in question.

  “In the parking lot. A month ago. I had a new concept bike I’d ridden up.”

  She stared at him, taking a moment to process that this was going to be a story. “So you do build motorcycles for a living.”

  “Design them, actually. I’m an engineer. But yes, I build them too.”

  “Oh right, I forgot you were on the news several years ago, weren’t you? And you wore Dom leathers.”

  He nodded, a little embarrassed she knew about that, though embarrassment wasn’t an emotion he was super familiar with.

  “Build motorcycles and put dicks on them.”

  “That’s a one-time thing. Only for you.”

  Her mouth and the corners of her eyes softened.

  Cain puffed out his cheeks, then blew out a breath. “I made a proper mess of this, haven’t I?”

  “You sound very British right now.”

  “I do that when I’m nervous.”

  “You’re nervous?” Vic reached out as if to touch him, but pulled her hand back, her expression hardening. “You were in a parking lot a month ago with a concept bike…”