by Natalie Dae
“I wanted to see if you were really dominant, or whether you were just used to people obeying you because you have money and power over them.”
Understanding dawned on his face. “And did I convince you?”
Oh, if only you knew just how much… “Yes, sir.”
Dean slid two fingers between my thighs, rubbing my clit through my panties. “I might feel the need to remind you I can walk the walk. Every now and then.”
The newly discovered part of me that had loved the feeling of being held down and forcefully taken rejoiced at his words. I tried and failed to suppress a smile even as he teased my pussy. “I understand, sir.”
He drew his hand back abruptly, leaving me wanting more. “Follow me.”
I did—straight upstairs, to the same luxurious bedroom he’d shown me before. It was intimately lit by soft lamplight, and the covers on the bed were already drawn back. It was warmer here, too, and I relaxed a little.
Dean shut the door behind us and tilted up my chin with a finger. “Kneel by the bed.”
I nodded, then did as he’d asked, sitting on my heels and lacing my fingers together behind my back. I didn’t know why—it just felt instinctively right.
It seemed to please Dean. “Good girl.”
I was caught off guard by just how much I appreciated those simple words of approval.
While I knelt there, he moved around the room, lighting candles. Once he’d finished he sat on the edge of the bed, within reach of me. He ran his fingers through my hair.
“Rest your head against my legs, Mia.”
I scooted closer and obeyed, pressing my cheek against his knee and inhaling the scent of him, mixed with that of his leather trousers. Dean let me relax against him for a minute or two before speaking.
“What are your safewords?”
We’d run through this on the phone. “Red to stop and yellow to slow down, sir.”
“Use them if you need them, understand?”
I nodded, and Dean tugged on my hair. “I can’t hear you, Mia.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
Getting to his feet, he ordered me to mine. I stood unsteadily on the stiletto heels I was beginning to regret having put on, and was grateful of Dean’s support as he held my waist lightly.
“Hold on to me.”
I slid my hands up his warm, firm biceps before clutching his naked shoulders. I could get used to obeying orders like these…
Without warning, Dean tugged my panties down to mid-thigh and slid his fingers between my labia, rubbing lightly before withdrawing them and holding his wet fingers up to my face. “Is this for me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
He knew damn well what the answer to that question was, and I was saved from having to answer by him returning his hand to its former position. He circled my clit teasingly, then eased two fingers inside me to massage my G-spot, tapping my clit with his thumb at the same time. Gasping, I clutched his shoulders and hoped my knees would give me some warning before they gave way.
“You know, I can think of a million different things I could do to you tonight, but I think I just decided what I want to go with.” Dean lowered me to the bed, then withdrew his fingers from inside me slowly. I couldn’t help but moan and squirm against the bed at the loss of his touch.
Dean rummaged in the closet and brought out the sports bag he’d taken to the club the night before. Images of all the X-rated items it could contain flashed through my mind, and I bit my lip, wondering what he had in store for me.
When he withdrew a bullet vibrator from a small package, I closed my eyes at the thought of the vibrations against my clit. I dreaded to think just how long he was going to torture me before he’d let me come.
“You know, on the lowest setting this could have you on the edge for hours.” From the slightly mischievous note in his voice, I could tell he knew exactly what I was thinking—and he was loving it.
I decided it was probably safest not to answer.
He flicked the switch, and I shivered at the familiar, provocative buzzing sound.
Dean leaned over me and held the vibrator against my labia, just over my clit. I gasped, tilting up against the vibrations at first, then away from them as they became too much to bear. Keeping the toy in place against my pussy, he fucked my mouth with his tongue, making me groan into his kiss and scratch my fingernails down his back. My cunt pulsed with arousal, my labia wet and sensitive, my clit swollen and begging for his attention. “Please, sir,” I whispered in between kisses, reaching over to try to stroke his cock.
Dean didn’t stop me—instead, he pushed into my hand and sighed as I began to stroke him firmly through the leather. He continued to kiss me, arching into my touch, pressing the vibrator against my clit and amping it up to the next setting.
I half sobbed against his lips and tried to grab his hand, unsure whether I planned to make him press down farther or make him stop.
Dean drew back immediately and slapped my hand away, then palmed the still-buzzing vibrator and used both hands to pull up my panties again.
“No, please!” The words were out before I could stop them.
“Be careful what you wish for,” he told me, and pushed the vibrator into my panties.
I wriggled and moaned as he began to fasten leather cuffs around my wrists. I could hardly process what he was doing—the teasing vibration wasn’t enough to get me off, but more than enough to make me want to ride Dean’s cock for hours.
When he unsnapped my bra and pulled it off, I arched my back, allowing him to squeeze and pinch my nipples one at a time until they blossomed with welcome pain that just intensified the vibrating ache within my panties. It wasn’t until I heard a click that I tried to pull my mind back into focus. What was…?
It took a couple of moments longer for me to realise he’d clipped the wrist cuffs to a short chain looped around one of the spokes in the headboard. I tugged at the restraints, verifying that I was bound to the bed and no amount of struggling would help. “Fuck!”
“If you need to safeword, I’m listening,” Dean said casually.
“And if I need to come?”
“You wait for my permission,” he told me, then smothered my groan with a brief kiss.
I clamped my legs together, trying to dull the vibrations against my clit. That didn’t work, so I spread them as far open as I could, whimpering when that gave me little respite.
“I could watch you writhing like that all night.” Dean trailed a finger over my nipple, circling and teasing it, making it even harder than it had been before.
“Sadist,” I accused between frustrated gasps.
He grinned, and I was all of a sudden sure he was about to prove me more right than I’d guessed.
The nipple clamps were deceptively dainty, but as he fastened one in place, then the other, I nearly lurched off the bed at the intensity of their evil bite. “Oh, God! Oh, God…”
He stroked my hair, calming me a little, but I was trembling now, the combination of the vibrator and the clamps almost too much for me to handle. “I don’t… I can’t…”
He did something to the clamps, and the pressure lessened a little. “Better?” he asked, watching me carefully.
“Yes, sir.” It was only an increment of relief, but it was enough for me to hang on for a few more interminable, torturous minutes.
Dean, sadist that he was, made sure to strip naked in full view of the bed. The sight of his cock sent me right to the edge of orgasm, and I tried to shut my eyes before my imagination skipped too far ahead, to him tugging down my panties and sliding into me inch by glorious, rigid inch.
“Oh, fuck, I’m going to—”
“The hell you are.” He was beside me in an instant, and though my eyes were screwed tightly shut I could imagine his frown at the mere thought that I might disobey him. It didn’t help me stave off the impending orgasm—but the fact that he pulled the vibrator free of
my panties and switched it off did.
Torn between relief and utter devastation, I tried to curl up into a ball as much as my bound wrists would allow. The sound of foil tearing made me snap my eyes open, though, and I eagerly watched Dean rolling a condom down his very prominent hard-on.
Arching my back when he pulled my legs apart might have been a bad move, though. My clamped nipples protested immediately and I cried out with the unexpected pain.
“Stay still, Mia. I’m going to take off the clamps, and this will hurt.”
I nodded, steeling myself, but yelped as he removed one clamp, then the other. Pain flared through the skin of my nipples and I tried instinctively to cover them with my hands, though I was still bound. It hurt more with the clamps off than it had when they were on, and reflexive tears sprang to my eyes.
“Shhh…” Dean stroked my hair, soothing me. “It’ll fade in a second.”
He was right—the agony was already a little less, and I trusted his word that it would continue to do so.
As if to distract me, he ran his fingers through the plentiful juices that coated my pussy lips, then swirled his fingertips around my hypersensitive clit. I could have screamed with frustration. “Oh, fuck!”
“Beg me for it, Mia.”
I did, the words falling from my lips in a desperate jumble—pleas interspersed with whimpers and gasps and sighs as Dean fingered me with brutal finesse. Every time I thought I was about to come, he pulled back, slowed down or just stilled his fingers entirely, making me sob for release until my mouth was dry and my body was shaking uncontrollably.
Then, just as I thought I’d actually lose my mind, he pulled his fingers away and replaced it with his cock, slamming it home in one slick thrust.
I was finally getting what I craved as much as my next breath, and loving every fucking second of it. He pressed deep into my cunt, then drew back, held still for a precarious moment with his cock head almost slipping free of me, then drove back in just as forcefully.
My head spinning, I closed my eyes and let him take everything he wanted, relishing every grunt of satisfaction he made and tightening my cunt as much as I could, squeezing him and enhancing the pleasure for both of us.
“Fuck, you’re so hot and tight.” He eased back, then began a series of hard, shallow thrusts calculated to hit my sweet spot…right…there…
My cries were breathless, frantic, louder than I remembered them ever being before, but I didn’t care, knowing he loved to hear me moan for him.
“On the count of three, you’re gonna come around my cock,” Dean told me, gripping my hips tightly, still hitting my G-spot with every fast, sweet stroke into my clenching cunt.
I have to wait until three? After all the torture you’ve put me through already? I was too busy being thoroughly fucked to try to find the words, but he read the sentiment in my light whimper and chuckled.
“One.”
He cupped my cunt with one hand, still slamming his cock into me between his fingers. My clit hit his palm every time he drove into me, my juices coating his skin, making his hand slide against my sensitive nub and drive me steadily insane. I gave a shaky sigh, trying to hold on to my composure.
“Two.”
His movements were almost as frenzied as mine now, and the word emerged as a growl. I dug my fingernails into my hands and breathed as deeply as I could manage, trying to hang on, but my nipples ached and I was so tense, so needy. “Please, sir!”
He held out on me for a couple of seconds more, but it seemed like an eternity. I screamed out wordlessly to try to stop myself from coming, but it didn’t help. I was about to lose it, and I knew he’d know it the second my climax started.
“Three!”
With a sob of relief I let the orgasm loose, shuddering with the force of my release as Dean began to thrust deeper again. My internal muscles squeezed around his cock in waves that decimated my ability to sense anything else—all I was focused on was each rhythmic pulse of my devastating climax.
It seemed to go on forever, smaller orgasms rippling out from the first, so delicious that I didn’t even try to count them. Dean ground his hips against mine somewhere in the middle of it all, coming deep inside me and letting my spasming inner muscles prolong it for him, too.
I sagged against the bed as the aftershocks of my climax faded, suddenly boneless. Dean drew out of me and dealt with the condom, and I lay there trying to calm my racing heart.
He rejoined me on the bed and unclipped the wrist cuffs from the headboard. I lowered my arms slowly, and he let me take a few moments to adjust to being unbound before taking me in his arms.
“You did well,” he murmured against the top of my head.
I tilted my head up to look sceptically at him. “I was a wreck.”
“A beautiful wreck trying desperately to obey her Dom’s orders,” he elaborated, smiling down at me. “You were breathtaking to watch.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, so I snuggled farther into his arms and let the subject drop.
Dean drew back after a few minutes and gently kissed the bruise last night’s bullet had left between my breasts. I would seriously have to write to Kevlar and suggest an extra layer of padding beneath the vest. Maybe it wouldn’t reduce bruising, but it couldn’t hurt.
“Was tonight worth taking a bullet for?” he asked, obviously trying to be more light-hearted than he felt about the situation. I knew he’d be kicking himself for his recklessness for a long time, even after my bruise had healed.
Impulsively, I sought his lips and kissed him. I wasn’t sure if it would reassure him as much as I wanted it to, but it also gave me time to think about the question. Had it been worth throwing myself into the bullet’s path?
When we broke the kiss, I shrugged. “Tonight on its own? Amazing though it’s been, probably not. But if this carries on…becomes more…” Conscious of what he might think, I looked away a little uncomfortably. He probably hadn’t expected me to get all deep and meaningful.
Dean cupped my cheek, commanding my gaze once more. “Pretty sure I already staked my claim on you. But if I wasn’t clear enough, let me make it plain now. You’re mine, Mia, for as long as you can handle it. Understand?”
Unable to keep myself from smiling, I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Lying naked in his arms, bruised and sore and satisfied, I realised that I’d still have thrown myself between Dean and that bullet if I’d been wearing no body armour at all. When I’d made the decision to leap into danger, I’d been willing to die for him, and now, having survived, I’d finally found something to live for.
About the Author
Amy Valenti is a tarnished tease, and her mind has lived in the gutter since the day she realised what sex was. She hails from England, which she doesn’t find quite as exotic and sexy as the average US citizen seems to, but if people want to compliment her on her accent, that’s all fine with her! Her muses are many, fickle and very demanding.
She has a degree in creative writing and currently works as a proofreader/copy editor. In her free time, she reads, writes and plays videogames. On the rare occasions she doesn’t have a laptop on her knee, she loves to curl up with friends and pets—and chocolate—for TV show and movie marathons.
Email: [email protected]
Amy loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Amy Valenti
Battle of Thrills
Dominance and Deception
Always the Quiet Ones
Shocked
Hidden Heat
Switch: Switching Off
Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:
Switch
By
Desiree Holt, Lisabet Sarai, Elizabeth Coldwell,
Wendi Zwaduk, Amy Valenti & Lauren Gallagher
Excerpt
Top or Bottom? by Desiree Holt
Keith Richmond glanced sideways at the displays on
the far wall of the store. Yup, she was still there. Little more than a pixie, her height boosted by sexy stiletto heels. Her short coat, which barely brushed the tops of her thighs, was belted tightly at the waist. He wondered if she was wearing anything beneath it.
When she reached a small hand up to pluck a short switch from its hook, his groin tightened and his cock tried to push its way through the fabric of his pants.
Down, boy!
But she drew him, nonetheless, the magnetic field almost visible. His sub was away for a week. The house felt empty without her and he was seized with a grinding need to satisfy his desires. He’d ditched work for the afternoon, thinking a trip to their favourite adult store to buy her some surprises might help. Besides, he knew they were at some kind of crossroads—both of them were questioning their individual roles. He’d thought about this for weeks, talking himself out of it, then into it again.
He’d seen sex from one side for so long that he wasn’t sure if he was capable of being a good Dom anymore. Was he still in tune with his submissive? Had habit taken over their relationship? Was he still as completely intuitive as he’d always been? The quality of a good power exchange depended completely on the Dom and the sub understanding each other’s needs, both physically and emotionally. Lately, he’d been questioning his ability to give as well as take.
He’d walked in and there was the pixie, almost as if she’d been waiting for him.
He gave himself a mental shake. He hadn’t come to the adult merchandise store to while away the afternoon lost in thought. He’d come here for a reason. And maybe that reason was the tempting piece standing across the store from him. She had ‘submissive’ written all over her. It was in her posture, her gestures. Definitely in her eyes. And certainly, the thin choker gracing her neck was an unmistakeable sign of ownership.
He watched the way her slender fingers brushed over the length of the switch, which was actually a length of birch wrapped in clear, damp cloth. He knew this store well, knew it took a fresh delivery every day. Birch and hickory were the most flexible woods to use for switches. For optimum effect, the birch should be fresh, peeled before the sub, all twigs and detritus efficiently removed. Keith liked to have his sub run her fingers over the freshly denuded wood before he brushed it across the entire length of her body, giving her a light taste of the feel of it before he applied it to her delicate skin.