by Qwillia Rain
“Ummm…yes. I still…ahhh, I still need time.”
Her breath hissed through her teeth as he attached the rings to her taut nipples. Her hands clenched into fists, but she held still. “Understandable, and there are three days left for you to think.” Bryce rose from the desk and settled his hands at her waist. “But while you think, I’ve made an appointment for you at the spa. Sarah couldn’t fit you in until Friday, but she is the best aesthetician as well as being the owner.”
“The spa?”
The fingers of his left hand tugged at the dark curls between her thighs, drawing a heady moan from her lips. “I told you last night we needed to have this pussy trimmed.”
“I can—”
“Uh-uh, baby,” he whispered in her ear, his teeth nipping the lobe as he drew more moisture from her. “Waxed, not shaved. I want all but a little patch to be smooth as silk. No stubble.”
Something in her eyes had Bryce waiting. She seemed reluctant to ask for several long seconds, before she finally blurted, “And my legs?”
He found it difficult to stifle his laughter, but the grin on his face must have revealed his amusement. The fire in her eyes and the way she crossed her arms beneath her breasts had Bryce fighting laughter again. “Of course, Lawrence. What else is a day at the spa for if it’s not to pamper you?”
“Pamper, my ass.” She snorted under her breath. “Try torture.”
“Torture?”
She gave him a look so full of sarcasm, Bryce again found himself stifling his guffaws into sedate, tactful chuckles. “Torture, how?” he queried a second time.
“You lay on a cold, leather-padded table. Bare-assed naked, except for some stupid paper gown.” Leaning against him, Mattie continued, “Just to have some strange woman slather your legs and pubis with hot wax and then rip it all off five minutes later.”
Bryce winced. “Yup”—he nodded—“I have to admit that does sound a bit like torture.”
“So, why don’t you just—” Mattie smiled at him.
“No. Sarah is the best; she’ll take good care of you.”
“Yeah, right,” Mattie groused.
“Yes. Now let me take a look at your ass.”
Taken aback, Mattie gazed at him, not sure what to expect. “Excuse me?”
“Lean forward, hands on the desk,” he directed, “and let me get a good look at your ass.”
Not sure how serious he was, Mattie waited, sobering. “I don’t…”
He shook his head at her. “Ah, be careful,” he warned. “A refusal could be construed as breaking a rule. There are no employees around, and one of my responsibilities as your master is to inspect your body to make sure no damage was done last night.”
She’d read about inspections but had assumed they were primarily a determination of whether the sub or slave’s appearance and body met with the approval of a Dominant or master. Mattie had never considered it to be a responsibility of either party, but considering the paddling she’d taken the night before she could understand Bryce’s concern. Hell, she’d had the same concerns herself this morning. Biting her lip, she asked, “What do you consider bruises?”
All teasing left Bryce’s face. “Damn it, Lawrence. Bend over.” He didn’t even wait for her to comply. Moving to her side, he pressed against her upper back with one hand, while the other smoothed over her bottom.
Bracing her forearms on the polished mahogany, Mattie interlaced her fingers and waited. She winced at the colorful profanities Bryce spit out as he inspected the few bruises dotting her bottom and the skin just beneath it. When he pressed against the only dark one, despite her resolve not to, she flinched. Her eyebrows rose, and she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder at the inventive combination of curses that spilled out.
“You know”—she grinned back at him—“it’s okay.”
“Yes, bruises heal,” he agreed. “But I’ll have to remember…”
“Remember what?” She tried to rise, but his hand against her back halted her.
“To remind Richard.”
“Why?”
“When he punishes you, we’ll have to be careful not to bruise you too badly.”
The mention of the company’s vice president and director of mergers and acquisitions had her heart hammering in her chest as she recalled Bryce’s comments about enjoying the feel of a woman sandwiched between him and another man. Her own mind had conjured images for years when she’d first heard the rumors, but fantasy was nothing like reality. She’d discovered that last night when he’d used the flogger on her. Yes, she’d enjoyed it, but the feelings it stirred also frightened her. It was possible the same could happen should she ever live out her fantasy of being the filling in a sandwich between Bryce and Richard. “Why would Richard punish me? He isn’t part of our arrangement.”
“He will be if you decide to become my sub, Lawrence,” Bryce informed her coolly, his green eyes boring into hers.
“I…” Mattie wasn’t sure what she was going to say, but the words froze at the chill look from Bryce.
“Don’t play shy, Lawrence. You knew exactly what I meant when I discussed the manner in which I treat my submissives. That’s what this entire week of experimentation is about.” His hands smoothed over her ass, kneading the firm globes, before one dipped lower to delve between her labia, coating his fingers in the warm syrup of her arousal. “Preparing you for all the things I could expect of you.”
Taking his time, Bryce used her own cream to lubricate the tight pucker of her rectum, sliding around the tiny hole, then over it with his wet fingertips. She waited, anticipating the initial penetration of his finger into her bottom, but it didn’t happen.
Instead, he confused her momentarily with a directive. “Go into the bathroom. Top drawer, right side of the cabinet. Bring me the white tube.”
Moving into the bathroom was easy. She used each step as a means to draw a slow breath and exhale, bringing her body under control. It was only after she realized what he’d had her retrieve that crossing the room dressed only in her hose and heels, with his crystal green gaze following her every step, grew difficult. Returning to his side, she held the lubricant out to him, heat flushing her face and coloring her breasts and chest as she contemplated what he might do next.
“When you agreed to marry me…”
“I told you I wasn’t sure about being able to submit,” she reminded him, her breathing tight, shallow, but not with fear.
“You still know what I am, Lawrence.” Tilting his head to the side, he watched her cheeks flare with color. “You admitted you’ve heard the rumors. I never lied to you about the things I expect from my bed partners. I assured you that if you couldn’t commit to a D/s relationship I could live with that decision.”
“Yes, but…”
“But what? Did you think I’d ignore your choice and try to force you into agreeing?” His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, towering over her. “Is that what you were afraid I’d do? Even after these last few days?”
Mattie grew flustered, her pulse jumping, her breasts hurting. “Yes… No… I…” she stammered, her mind whirling at the images his warning had stirred up, the smell of Bryce so close presenting its own distraction.
Anger flashed in his eyes, so she pushed aside the swirling emotions and held on to the fact that his behavior seemed to challenge her determination, her intent to see if she could take on the role of his submissive. Poking her index finger into his chest, Mattie snapped, “Don’t you try to bully me, Halsey.” She glared up at him, refusing to admit that no amount of prodding was going to move the man in front of her. “If you think you can scare me into changing my mind about this, you’re wrong. This isn’t some whim of mine. This isn’t ‘test the big, bad Dom.’ I’m trying to make sure the marriage you and your father think you need to keep control of your company is sound enough to handle any conflict Frieda and her little minions decide to throw at us.”
Bryce grasped her wrists. Effortlessly, he mane
uvered them behind her back and held them with one hand. Leaning down, he gripped her chin between the thumb and forefinger of his free hand while his green eyes bore into hers. “I’ve never tried to intimidate or bully you, Lawrence.”
“Oh yes, you…” she began, but his grip tightened fractionally, and he tipped her chin until she could feel the tension in her neck.
“No, Lawrence, I wanted to fuck you.” He waited while her stunned mind absorbed his admission. “You waltzed into my office, calling me a pirate and condemning me for buying your foster family’s boatyard, completely oblivious to how quickly my cock sat up and took notice of you.”
She could feel the color fill her cheeks.
His fingers smoothed down her throat before sliding over her breast, tugging at the platinum chain. “While you stood there berating me in front of Gino, I entertained visions of fucking that vicious mouth, stripping you naked, tying you spread-eagle to the top of the conference table, and riding your lush little body until you couldn’t scream anymore.”
Mattie’s lips moved, but no words came out. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her desert-dry mouth as his revelations sent pictures skittering through her mind, each more graphically arousing than the last. Bryce didn’t seem concerned with her sudden speechlessness. His grip tightened on her wrists as his other hand drifted from her breast to the curve of her hip.
“You weren’t ready for it eight years ago, Lawrence. You weren’t prepared for what I would demand from you. Not then. You had your little-girl infatuation with me, but you’re over it. More matured. Now, though”—his hand palmed her ass, squeezing appreciatively as he easily lifted her in his arms and moved toward the broad sofa—“now I’ve shown you some of what I’d like from you.” Before she could react, Bryce released her wrists and had her laid out on the soft cushions clad only in her stockings and heels, her hands stretched and pinned above her head as Bryce settled into the space he made between her thighs.
“You…you agreed,” Mattie whispered, her mind tumbling over itself trying to decide if her request to not have sex had been as wise as she’d thought it was. If he’d always planned on having her submit to his dominance, then maybe he’d always considered her capable of fulfilling that need.
“Yes,” Bryce admitted, his lips lifting in a wry smile as he focused his attention on the quivering flesh of her full breasts. “And I’ll stick to that agreement, babe.” He lowered his lips to whisper across a taut nipple cinched by one of the purest metals in the world. His free hand caressed the curve of flesh. “That doesn’t mean I won’t spend the next two days preparing this sweet little ass to take my cock.”
Mattie shook her head, not in denial, but in an attempt to focus her thoughts. She could feel her pussy pulse with arousal at his words. Scenes flashed through her mind of Bryce bending her over the polished mahogany desk in his office and shoving his cock up her ass, or having him push her to her knees and slide it past her lips so she could suck him off. Remembering the flavor and feel of him in her mouth, against her tongue, her arousal grew with each consecutive thought, soaking her curls and tightening her nipples.
Bryce must have misread her motions, Mattie thought as his eyes narrowed and the tightening of his jaw emphasized the high, sharp angles of his cheekbones and patrician nose. Lifting his hips from between her thighs, she watched as he worked the thin leather belt from the waistband of his trousers. He had her hands bound and secured to the decorative wrought-iron post on the sofa before she even suspected what he had planned.
“Don’t try to make me believe you don’t know what I want from you, Lawrence,” Bryce warned as Mattie tilted her head back to blink in amazement at her immobilized wrists. Though he settled his hips over hers, Mattie knew Bryce must have held the majority of his weight on his forearms as his hands framed her head and stared into her eyes. “No coming, Lawrence.” His breath caressed her face. “Not unless you want a repeat of last night.”
Leaning down he pressed his lips to hers, his eyes holding hers as he seduced her mouth open. His tongue slipped inside to explore.
Mattie’s eyes closed as the warm mint and honey flavor of his mouth filled hers. The feel of his broad chest, still clad in a silk dress shirt and unbuttoned suit vest, teased her clamped nipples, the sensitive peaks swollen and aching. Bryce eased his hips deeper between her thighs, pressing the hard evidence of his arousal against her mound, drawing a needy moan from deep within her.
Her mind still fogged by his touch, the caress of his lips as they slipped from hers and moved along the pulse pounding in her throat, Mattie voiced the only question that swam through her thoughts. “Why?”
“Because I want to taste that sweet little pussy.”
Shaking her head, Mattie swallowed past the soft cry that left her lips as his fingers tugged at the taut peaks of her breasts, trying to remember the question that was so important to her. “No.” She gasped, her legs drawing up to hold his hips close to hers. It was so hard to focus with her body’s responses overwhelming her mind. “Why wait eight years?”
Lifting his gaze to hers, Bryce’s expression was deadly serious. “Eight years ago what I wanted would have resurrected too many memories. It would have driven you away. But now your body craves what I can give it.” He squeezed and twisted her nipple to create just the right amount of pain to heighten her pleasure.
Again he tugged and Mattie felt a gush of cream drizzle from her pussy. “The need to give up control to someone else isn’t abhorrent to you, is it? It arouses you. Makes you wet.” One hand slipped to the wet curls covering her mound. Moving lower on the sofa, Bryce used the breadth of his shoulders to keep Mattie’s legs splayed while his hands returned to cup her breasts. His tongue dipped to taste the moist pink flesh held open and on display for him.
Mattie felt as if her mind exploded. The warm rasp of his tongue through that sensitive slit stole her breath and what little control she still had over her body. She could feel every stroke, each lick as he lapped at her swollen clit before moving on to circle the weeping entrance. She was barely cognizant of the wet suckling sounds, the low hum of appreciation and husky compliments Bryce voiced as he fed on her cunt, while the coil of arousal tightened deep in her belly.
“Always such a good little admin,” Bryce teased as he lifted his head, his lips and chin wet with her juices, meeting her eyes as he parted the plump lips of her pussy and slid a finger into her tight channel.
She could feel the firm, callused digit delve deeper, pressing into her. Her belly tightened, her sheath pulsed around the alien presence. Then he touched something within her that made her gasp and groan aloud. Her hips lifted of their own volition, thrusting against his touch. His eyes held hers as he dipped his mouth back to the pink flesh spread before him.
A second finger pressed into her, causing her back to arch from the cushions, making her cry out softly at the pleasurable pain the stretching of her tight sheath induced. Bryce pressed a kiss, then lapped consolingly at the knot of nerves peeking from beneath its hood. “You’re so fucking tight, Lawrence. Even after the last few days.”
The wet sucking noises her pussy made as Bryce finger fucked her registered in a distant part of her brain. The rational, quiet part of her cringed with embarrassment at the base behavior, the animalistic pleasure coursing through her veins, while the hidden sexual being within her gloried in every sound, every gasp.
With each thrust of his fingers, Bryce pushed the rational part further and further away and imbued the sexual part of Mattie with strength and power. Confidence. Enough confidence that the sounds sliding out of her mouth changed from gasps and moans to words and demands; her hips kept pace with his hand, and her fingers curled around the cold wrought-iron bar, reveling in the feel of the leather binding her wrists.
“Oh God, faster, Bryce.” Her voice was quiet but strong in the room. “Please fuck me. Fuck me!”
His throaty chuckle and the nip of his teeth on her nipple had Mattie’s eyes snapping open. �
��No fucking until you make your decision.” His lips and chin glistened as he lowered his mouth to hers. Mattie could taste herself on his lips. The smell of sex filled her nostrils as he ate at her lips, his tongue imitating the same thrusting motions as his fingers, the pace the same, just enough to keep her poised on the edge of orgasm, but not enough to push her over.
Against his lips she sobbed for release, she twisted beneath his fingers, but he wrenched control from her by lifting her hips. Only her upper back was still in contact with the sofa beneath her. Again he chuckled at her need, his lips leaving hers to smile down at her.
Frustrated and emboldened by the release of her vixen self, Mattie growled at him. “Bastard. Prick. Quit teasing and fuck me.”
A thin white blond brow rose in challenge over Bryce’s left eye. “Oh no, Lawrence. We made a deal, no sex—fucking—until you decide yes or no. What we’re doing here and for the next two days”—he easily maneuvered her belly down on her knees—“is making sure…”
She could feel him draped along her back, his hands gripping her hips. The solid length of his aroused cock stayed firmly secured behind the straining fly of his trousers. A subtle thrust of his hips and the column of hidden tissue parted the damp globes of her ass, the moist evidence of her passion having dripped into the crevice, lubricating the dusky flesh.
“This tight little ass is all ready to take my cock for a long, hard ride.”
Mattie groaned as her pussy pulsed, empty and desperate to be filled again. She didn’t move, not sure if her body would fly apart if she shifted even an inch, when Bryce’s weight lifted and moved away from her. She heard the rustling of paper, a soft snapping sound, then the warmth of Bryce’s hand settled on her bottom.
“I’m just going to make sure you’re ready for that ride, Lawrence.” His voice was deep, throaty with passion as his thumb and finger parted her cheeks. Mattie shivered, her nipples scraping the leather beneath her as she unconsciously swayed forward, trying to move away from the cool plastic he placed against the tight hole of her ass. In her mind she could see the nozzle of the tube of lubricant pressed against her, she’d imagined this scene for years. In the various books she’d read, and even when she used her own toys, it was always his touch, his face that preceded the first stinging stretch.