In the Zone

by Sierra Cartwright

  “Don’t move,” he warned her.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He inserted the tip of his penis into her cunt.

  Despite his orders, she wriggled.

  “Problem, sub?”

  “Sir, this is hard!” This was impossible. He had no idea what he was asking from her. In fact, until now, she had no idea how hard it would be to follow his directions.

  Schooling her reactions to please him was new, different. She hated it. She liked it. The complexity of this relationship astounded her.

  “More?”

  “Please.” Despite the fact they’d fucked earlier, the edge was still there. In fact, impossibly, she was hungrier than she had been. “Yes, yes, please, Sir.”

  Instead of complying, he feathered a few light touches across her swollen clit. She was panting, desperate for him to claim her.

  He pulled out and then pressed forward a bit deeper.

  She gasped. Being fucked with a plug this big in place was mind-blowing. There was no way he’d get his entire cock inside her.

  “Ask for it.”

  “I want you inside me, Sir!”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back toward his thrusting hips.

  She cried out. It took several strokes, but finally he was all the way inside her.

  The sensations were overwhelming. She panted, almost unable to breathe.

  “I like the way your ass and pussy are full,” he said.

  “Me too, Sir.”

  He moved one hand from her shoulder and placed his free arm under her belly to tilt her pelvis. “Kukae!” The angle pressed his cock against her G-spot.

  “You may only come with permission.”

  She was helpless.

  He’d secured her wrists, held one shoulder, and he’d filled her pussy and ass totally. This man possessed her body.

  She was afraid he was working on her soul too.

  He withdrew his cock.

  “Please, Sir, I want you inside me. I want to feel you. I want to come.”

  “Stay exactly in this position.”

  He moved his arm from under her hip bones. He dug a hand into her hair, pulling back her head, imprisoning her. She was helpless, needy, greedy. “Fuck me, Sir!”

  He did. Hard. Fast. The way she liked it.

  She met each thrust, keeping her legs apart to invite him deep inside.

  The sensation of his hard cock in combination with the rigid glass plug overwhelmed her.

  An orgasm unfurled deep inside her. “Sir? Sir! I need to come.”

  “Hold it,” he told her.

  She didn’t know if she could.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. She drank in short, desperate breaths.

  “Just a little longer,” he told her.

  She wasn’t sure if it was a command or a request.

  “I… I…”

  “Don’t you dare come, Alani, unless you want to be punished.”

  He blew her mind.

  Master Nathaniel let go of her shoulder and slapped the side of her thigh. The sting overwhelmed her. Even though his hand was dug into her hair and pressed against her skull, she moved her head from side to side. She couldn’t hold off, couldn’t. “Sir!”

  “Now,” he ordered.

  The orgasm ripped through her. She cried out and clenched her pussy around his cock. He impaled her, controlled her. He pressed a finger against the base of the plug, keeping it in place as she climaxed.

  The feelings of surrender, pain, and pleasure overwhelmed her. “Thank you,” she murmured. “Thank you, thank you.” She’d never had an orgasm that powerful, that sustained.

  “I’m not done with you,” he said when she would have rolled to one side.

  Chapter Eight

  Her body was still shaking as he drove into her again.

  Did the man show no mercy?

  He released her head and captured her hips, holding her exactly where he wanted her as he fucked her.

  She was lost.

  Instead of fighting, she surrendered.

  She was carried away on the heady mixture of pain and bliss. The plug hurt; his occasional slap burned. And he dragged orgasm after orgasm from her.

  “So beautiful,” he told her. “When you’re not fighting me, when you’re being a good little sub.”

  His approval made her fly on euphoric wings. “Sir… Sir…” She had no idea what she was asking for, but he seemed to know, exactly.

  He filled her, demanded her response, satisfied her.

  He fucked her for an impossible amount of time.

  When she was sure she could take no more, she felt the change in his tempo. His cock seemed bigger; his thrusts seemed more powerful.

  She wanted him to come. She hungered for his possession.

  “Get your ass up higher, Alani.”

  She struggled to accommodate him. Between his strong thrusts and her weak muscles, that was considerably more difficult than she could have imagined.

  She moved and wiggled.

  He groaned.

  “Fill me, Sir!”

  His fingers were dug into her skin against her hip bones, maybe leaving bruises. She didn’t care. In fact, it made the joining even more sexy.

  He stilled.

  The heat of his orgasm surged into the condom.

  He pulsed deep inside her.

  He held her tight as he continued to spurt.

  She turned her head to the side against the bedspread. She smiled. He’d satisfied her, but there was no doubting his ejaculation had been long and hot. She was sated, but she’d taken care of his base needs as well.

  “You’ll be the death of me,” he said.

  “I hope so.”

  “Impertinent sub.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He pulled out slowly and removed her cuffs.

  When she would have collapsed, he said, “Stay there.”

  “Sir?”

  “Do I need to repeat my command?”

  “No,” she said quickly. “No, Sir.”

  She heard the sound of running water. Maybe the sink faucet?

  All of a sudden she felt a little vulnerable in that position, her pussy wet, her asshole stretched wide by a glass plug. She looked like a submissive slut.

  Part of her wanted to curl into a small ball and hide beneath the covers or better yet run for home.

  The man clearly knew her as well as she knew herself. He’d made sure they’d left her car at the club. There was no escape, nothing to do but brazen out the situation.

  She heard a more powerful rush of water. The shower? Was he seriously going to make her stay here, with her butt thrust up, her muscles cramping, and her breasts pressed against the bedspread while he cleaned up?

  She gritted her teeth against the indignation.

  She was a sub, but she was still a human. Her body was tense, and now that the perspiration was drying, she felt a little chilled.

  This was what she’d asked for, though. She’d wanted a man strong enough to force her capitulation.

  Now that she had him, what the hell was she supposed to do with him?

  The feeling of something warm and damp against her pussy made her screech and break position.

  “Shh,” he said. “And get your luscious body back where it was.”

  She’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts and feeling sorry for herself that she hadn’t heard him return.

  “It’s just a washcloth,” he said.

  Gently, his touch so different from when he’d screwed her, he picked her up and placed her where he wanted her.

  This man and his unexpected tenderness was so far removed from anything she’d experienced either in the vanilla or the BDSM worlds. “Master Nathaniel?”

  “We’ll talk, Alani. Later.”

  Having no other choice, she surrendered to his ministrations.

  He took hold of her labia and wiped her pussy lips. Why did this seem so much more intimate than anything else they’d done?
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  “I’m going to remove the plug.”

  His words horrified her. “I…I’m sure I can manage that, Sir.”

  “I’m sure you can.”

  He grasped the glass hilt and tugged.

  She clenched her sphincter involuntarily.

  “It’ll be easier if you bear down. It’s coming out, and it’s coming out now. How difficult you want it to be is up to you.”

  Could there be anything more humiliating?

  He tugged again. “Relax.”

  If only she could.

  He pulled much harder.

  “Damn, Sir!”

  “Stop being difficult, Alani. We will do it this way, or you can squat on the floor and I’ll take it out that way.”

  So her two choices were awful and more awful.

  She bore down.

  “Good girl.” He removed the plug.

  She began to sweat. She knew her hole was gaping open, and her pussy was still exposed. She’d never been more aware of her femininity or what it meant to submit.

  “You’re beautiful,” he told her.

  Then he slapped her right butt cheek.

  “Lie down.”

  Did he ever stop being bossy?

  He worked his hands up her, starting with her ankles and moving up her calves and hamstrings. He worked out the cramps until her muscles felt supple.

  She closed her eyes and surrendered.

  Being pampered had never been part of her scenes, but maybe she could get used to it.

  Before she realized what he was about, he’d taken hold of her, turned her over, and lifted her into his arms.

  She told herself to keep her distance, but she was helpless to resist him. She relaxed against his body.

  He carried her into the bathroom.

  He’d left the water running, and steam fogged the mirrors and the glass shower stall.

  Without pausing, he moved toward the shower, opened the door, and stepped inside with her.

  He slid her down his body, but he held on to her until she gained her balance.

  She’d never shared a bathroom with a man. Of course, she’d never seen a shower like this before. This oversize unit had a built-in bench, and it was deep enough to hold another two people.

  The stall was beautifully tiled. Dispensers for shampoo, conditioner, soap, and shaving cream kept it virtually clutter free. Two detachable showerheads were on adjustable metal slides. He’d tossed two white fluffy towels over the top of the glass door, so they wouldn’t get chilled after they were finished. Did he think of everything?

  “Turn around,” he told her. “Put your hands on the wall above your head.”

  He turned a few dials and made a few adjustments so water wouldn’t run in her eyes. She knew that couldn’t be fabulous for him since the spray was hitting him midback, but it didn’t seem to matter.

  Alani wasn’t sure what she’d expected after he’d taken her so completely, filling her, demanding her surrender.

  She reminded herself again that she wanted a man who truly knew how to be a dom.

  The other men she’d been with adopted a more vanilla relationship after a scene. She’d shower alone, even locking the door behind her. She doubted he would permit that.

  “Hands on the wall,” he repeated.

  Nathaniel—Master Nathaniel—made it clear he was a dom all the way to his core. If she were honest, it unnerved her.

  What the hell had she been thinking in not bringing her own car?

  She suddenly wanted time alone.

  He moved her hair to one side.

  She felt his big, soap-slick hands on her shoulders, then her back. He moved lower, lathering her buttocks.

  “Relax, little sub.”

  Even though her body felt tense, she found herself giving in to his tenderness.

  The juxtaposition between his tough masculinity and gentle care was difficult to sort out in her mind. Which was real?

  He left her for a moment. She looked over her shoulder to see him remove the handheld showerhead from its bracket.

  He rinsed the lather from her body.

  The heat combined with his touch relaxed her. He was decimating her defenses.

  “Face me,” he instructed. “Put your hands on my shoulders.”

  She did, and she closed her eyes as he soaped her front.

  “Are your nipples tender?” He feathered his fingertips across the tight nubs.

  “They’re more than tender, Sir. They’re sore,” she said. “From when you clamped them at the club.”

  He brutally pinched them.

  She yelped, but almost instantly she felt the first tendrils of arousal. “Yes,” she whispered.

  He cupped her breasts and squeezed them.

  She tipped her head back. She loved the way he touched her. Sure. Firm.

  He dispensed a handful of soap and lathered it as he moved down her rib cage, then her belly. He moved next to her legs, skipping her pubic area. Maddening. He was totally maddening.

  When he reached her ankles, he grabbed the showerhead and rinsed away the soap.

  “Spread your legs.”

  Finally.

  He handled her so masterfully that she felt no sense of embarrassment as he directed the spray toward her pussy.

  Her cunt was tender, and she appreciated the gentle way he touched her. He spread her labia and rinsed the area with warm water.

  She locked her knees when he inserted a finger in her ass and used the water to wash that too.

  “I won’t permit you to hide from me,” he said.

  “Sir, I…”

  “Unless you want to spend the next twenty-four hours crawling around my house naked with a pony-play plug sticking out your ass, I suggest you relax.”

  Good God. He would too.

  She’d seen those types of butt plugs at Zones. The plug itself was red and medium size. It had about a foot of nylon to resemble horsehair.

  She unlocked her knees, allowing him access.

  “You’re much more into pain than humiliation,” he observed. “I’ll keep that in mind for future punishments.”

  Which meant he had been serious earlier when he said he wanted to see her outside of the club.

  “Look at me,” he told her.

  She met his gaze. He crouched so they were at eye level.

  He cleaned her anus with the water and his fingers. Having no secrets was strangely liberating.

  “You should always follow my directions so perfectly.”

  He finger-fucked her ass for a few seconds. Maybe because the area was tender, she found it totally erotic.

  “I like your reactions, Alani. With your eyes so wide and your mouth parted like that, you show how much you appreciate this.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” she said, remembering her manners. As she’d learned, he was strict about that. “I appreciate your attention.” That last bit was a lie. She really wanted to sort things out on her own.

  “I was wondering if you’d thank me.”

  Finally he removed his hand. He turned the dial on the showerhead, making the water pulse.

  “No,” she said softly, pleadingly. She wasn’t sure how much more she could endure.

  He grinned.

  The bursts of water against her clit and her anus aroused her more than she imagined.

  Involuntarily she curled her hands against his shoulders and jerked convulsively.

  “Shall I let you come?”

  “Oh, God. Please. Please, Sir.”

  He spread her labia and pulled back the hood of her clit, exposing the tiny bit of flesh to the water.

  Despite his earlier order, she couldn’t keep her eyes open.

  It was torture.

  It was bliss.

  She wanted him to release her clitoris; she wanted him to continue the torment.

  He moved the water closer, and when the pain was a bit much, he pulled back. He created a sexual dance she was helpless to resist.

  “I’m feeling… I
want to… Please, Sir, may I come?”

  “Hold on another minute.”

  She rose onto her toes, seeking the spray, avoiding the spray. “Sir!” She was lost in the sensations. He held her clit exposed with his thumb and forefinger, and he inserted another finger in her pussy.

  “Now?” she begged. “May I? Please, Master Nathaniel?”

  “Come,” he commanded.

  She cried out as the orgasm swamped her.

  She rode wave after wave, rising onto her tiptoes and then rocking back on her heels. Deep in her mind, she was aware her fingernails were digging into his skin, but he continued the assault.

  Finally, sated, she collapsed forward. He dropped the showerhead. He caught her in his strong arms and cradled her against his chest.

  “Perfect,” he said. “You’re perfect.”

  She wasn’t sure how long he held her, and when she finally pulled away and tipped her head back, he was looking down at her.

  His green eyes seemed darker than usual. Smoky rather than icy.

  His cock was half hard, and she wondered if he wanted sex again. In case, she reached for him.

  He curled his hand over hers. “Later,” he said.

  Now that he’d told her, she wanted him more.

  He turned off the faucet. He brushed droplets of water from his arms and chest, ran his palm over his face, then he finger-combed his hair.

  The look, slicked back, exposing his forehead, showing off his scar, made him look rugged, even more like the warrior he was.

  She could hardly believe this man had chosen her.

  Master Nathaniel pulled down a towel. She reached for the other, but stopped, surprised, when he wrapped the first one around her hair and squeezed the moisture from the thick strands.

  “I think one of us is confused, Sir.”

  He raised his brow.

  “I should be waiting on you. I should have washed your body. I should have offered you the first towel.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “One of us is confused.”

  He removed the towel from her hair, then caressed her with the cotton, dabbing the droplets from her neck, drying her back, making her feel exquisitely cared for.

  She was too exhausted to argue further. If he wanted her to be a princess for an evening, so be it.

  “You’ll sleep naked,” he said, looking up from where he crouched in front of her.

  “Sir, I prefer to sleep in a T-shirt.”