She cried out and squeezed her legs together. “Oh, yes, Sir. More, Sir.” Her moan rose to a low cry. “Now enough of all this. Remove these damn cuffs so I can touch you back.”
Damon choked, then coughed. Just when he thought he had her where he wanted her, that need of hers to take charge returned. Since entering their suite, she’d challenged him, both verbally and in her demeanor. First task, was to establish some ground rules and teach her what it meant to give him her all.
“Are they hurting you?” Holding her shoulders, he turned her around to examine the fur-lined cuffs. They didn’t appear too tight, nor were they chafing her skin. He stroked her hands, her wrists, and her palms, pleased when her fingers curled around his.
She glanced over her shoulder, met his questioning gaze. “No. I just don’t like them.”
“As they aren’t hurting, they stay.” Her eyes flashed with annoyance and rebellion, but she kept silent. Oh yeah, she was going to give him a run for his money. For the first time in a long time, excitement hummed through his mind and his body, waking every nerve and cell. The elastic of his cock sack pulled taut as his erection protested confinement.
He pushed her hands up so he could brush his dick against her ass. She gasped and leaned back into him. It nearly killed him to allow her to wiggle against him. Good god, the anticipation was going to be the death of him. Her frustrated exhale when he stepped away mirrored his own response.
“My rules, remember? When and how I say. Let’s go over lesson one, which you should have learned upstairs with the queen. Subs do not make demands. You may ask, but as your Dom, I am in charge. From this moment on, until I end this play session, you will do exactly as I say. If you don’t, you’ll be punished.”
“Punished? Like spanked?” Her voice rose an octave.
Damon trailed his hands up her arms, across her shoulders and leaned close enough to feel her breath on his lips. “There are other ways to punish disobedient subs. You are mine for the next three days. I will do what I please with you, when I please, and how I please. Do you understand?” He deepened his voice and scraped his teeth and tongue along the ridge of her shoulder.
She sighed like a contented, purring kitten. “Yes, Sir.”
Chuckling, Damon drew her around to face him. His traced the back of his fingers just beneath her jawbone and stared deeply into the liquid gold of her eyes. “You don’t, because you don’t understand what it means to submit mind and body, but you will, my sweet sub. You will.”
He bent his head and claimed her mouth.
Chapter Four
Caitie parted her lips and sighed. About damn time. That thought was followed by holy mother of god. She’d been right. Her beast had a mouth made for kissing. His lips were warm, soft, and full as they danced and mated with hers.
His hands gripped her shoulders, one arm sliding down to pull her close while the other cradled the back of her head as he deepened the kiss. He claimed her in a soul-deep kiss that fried every coherent thought as though she’d stuck her fingers into a light socket.
He nibbled and sucked her lower lip and ran his tongue along the inside, then kissed her hard and deep again, leaving her senses reeling. Instinct had her trying to put her arms around his neck. Frustration at being bound had her growling low in her throat.
She wanted to run her hands through his gorgeous mane of auburn hair and just plain hold on as his tongue swirled inside her mouth. He alternated by teasing her then claiming her firmly and completely.
Needing to take part, she tried to kiss him back, needed to taste and feel him. As soon as her tongue entered his moist mouth, his lips closed over her and he sucked hard. The erotic kiss slid through her bloodstream like warmed honey, thick and sweet. His kisses were richer than the creamiest chocolate, headier than a glass of good champagne, and sweeter than a rose in full bloom. Her head spun as though she’d drunk too much bubbly, yet it wasn’t enough.
She wanted—needed—more. Leaning into him, supported and held by his arms, desire left Caitie overwhelmed. She’d never considered herself a good kisser, had often wished that part of the mating game could be skipped, but kissing this man was like finding money hidden in an old purse—surprise, excitement, followed by pure pleasure with the newly discovered windfall. His expertise and her response was her windfall.
He shifted her in his arms, the movement parting his vest. One of her breasts slid across his hard, warm chest. His thick mat of hair cushioned and teased her sensitive nipple. She groaned, the sound a throaty purr. Blood pounded in her ears and raged through her body as though a flash flood had had swept through her, and each breath became a shallow pant.
More. She wanted everything this man had to give, and as she was a greedy little bitch, she demanded more. Hot damn. If he was this good with his mouth, with what she usually regarded as a boring kiss from any of her previous lovers, then she was in for one hell of a ride.
She thrust her hips out, seeking, needing, and demanding and whimpered when his erection brushed her belly. Excitement vibrated through her. Her clit throbbed and pulsed as though electrical impulses were being fired into her. She squeezed her legs tight, trying to hold those sensations inside. She groaned as the pressure shot desire outward from her center.
“Spread your legs.” The deep baritone of his voice turned her knees weak.
She obeyed. He shoved one thigh between hers and lifted. She cried out as leather scraped across her heated core.
“What do you want?” Damon trailed his lips along her jawline.
“You. Inside.” She panted. A sharp tug to her hair made her wince and add a hasty “Sir.”
“You want my cock buried deep inside your pussy?” He rubbed his chest against her straining breasts.
Damn. His voice, the frank talk, his teasing of her breasts, and the pressure of his thigh against her sex turned her insides to mush. “Yes, Sir. Please, Sir, fuck me.” She flushed, embarrassed to be so desperate, but she’d beg if he demanded.
Damon lifted his head and held her gaze. “Tell me, my sweet Belle, if given a choice, would you experience your first orgasm right now, hard and fast while riding me. Or would you rather make this moment last, wait until you’re screaming and begging for me to allow you to come.” He pressed his thigh high, his large hands smoothing over her back until he reached the swell of her ass. His fingers curved and gripped her globes, urging her into a slow, easy, rocking rhythm.
Oh, my god. How could she choose? Explosions of pure lust racked her body, which made thinking impossible. The thought of his taking her right now sent her heart thumping against her ribs. Blood pounded in her ears, and need coiled deep inside her pussy. She bucked against him, wanting that first delicious orgasm yet the idea of him driving her mad, making her beg and scream, buckled her legs. She’d never even come close to needing a man to that degree.
“Hard and fast,” she whimpered, thrusting her hips back and forth, feeling the sweet rise toward that coveted peak. She needed to come now. There’d be more, lots more. Candy at Halloween. He could drive her wild next time.
He laughed low in his throat, his breath tickling her nose. His lips brushed hers. “Where’s your sense of adventure, little sub?”
“You’re a stranger,” she gasped, tilting her head back, giving him access to her mouth. Damn, but she wanted her hands free so she could hold this man. “This is very adventurous for me.” She yearned to run her fingers across his chest and follow that arrow of dark hair down, down, down to where his cock lay hidden and out of sight.
“By the end of tonight, we won’t be strangers, my sweet Belle.” He rocked her harder, faster.
Close. So close. She clenched her muscles, readied herself for that final thrust that would send her spiraling out of control. His leg lowered, the pressure eased.
“More. Now!” The words burst from her, a cross between a wail and demand.
He released her and stepped away.
Shock trembled through her at the abrupt halt
. She’d been on the verge of coming. Her body ached to the point of pain. “God, no. Don’t stop.”
Without his warm thigh pressed against her, the air felt cold against the wetness on the inside of her thighs and higher. Instinctively, she tried to grab him and yank him back to her. She stumbled, forgetting her cuffed wrists.
Off balance, she’d have fallen had Damon not caught and steadied her. A frustrated moan escaped, even as she was grateful he didn’t let her fall flat on her face.
He gripped her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Rule one once again. Subs don’t demand. You may ask or beg.”
Dazed by the raging need running through her, Caitie blinked in confusion. “Your fault. How can I think when you’re driving me crazy?” She couldn’t help the thread of sulk in her voice. No one else had ever left her feeling so vulnerable. She’d had more wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am fucks than she cared to admit.
Damon did not fall into the selfish, rutting pig category. She had no doubt he’d satisfy her in a way she’d never experienced, and she wasn’t sure that was a good thing after all. Her body and mind sensed there was more to him, that perhaps by the end of their weekend, it wouldn’t be so simple to walk away. She’d certainly never forget him and was willing to bet, even though she hadn’t had him yet, she’d never find another lover quite like Damon the Dom.
He ran the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip. “That’s the point, little sub. You’re not supposed to think. Just feel.”
Damn. She was feeling, lots of feeling going on inside her, including feeling edgy and out of control. She glared at him. “You gave me a choice.”
He smiled. “I said if given a choice. The decision is ultimately mine to make.”
“That’s not fair.” God, her body was a mass of tingling nerves, and her mind raw with need. How much teasing could she bear? Was this to prove he was in charge and held all the power? Dammit, if it was, it was working. Without her hands, she was helpless, had to rely on him to ease the ache he’d created.
“Nice to know I have such an effect.” He kissed her hard.
When he lifted his head, Caitie’s world was once again spiraling out of control. He slid his arms around her and unsnapped the clasp holding the cuffs together. “Rule two. Subs may only come when Doms give permission.”
“What?” She gulped. “Um, Sir, you cannot be serious.” Was he crazy? If he touched her again, stroked his thigh against her or used his fingers–please let him use his fingers–there’d be no way in hell she could not come.
“If you come without permission, you’ll be punished.”
Punished? There was that word again. Caitie chewed her lower lip, worried about what that meant, but with her hands free, she made no comment. Instead, she held out her arms.
When he lifted a brow, she rolled her eyes. “Please, Sir. Could you remove the handcuffs?”
The silver of his eyes gleamed like mercury. “Why are you cuffed?”
She frowned. “I don’t know. Sir. I assumed it was part of the game. I was being treated like a prisoner taken to the dungeon—to my beast.”
“I ordered them. You’ll find I have a reason for everything I do or ask. In this case, the cuffs are your first lesson in learning what it means to be submissive and giving total control to your Dom.” He lifted a brow. “You haven’t learned it, so they stay on.”
Caitlin blinked back tears of frustration. She was so confused, so achy, and so needy. “Maybe this isn’t going to work. I’m not a doormat,” she said, her voice low with regret. She didn’t want to leave, needed this man to finish what he’d started, but she was used to giving the orders and looking out for those in her life. When she wanted something, she went after it. Waiting and patience weren’t her strongest virtues.
To her surprise, Damon grinned and drew her close, the backs of his fingers lifting her chin. “A sub is not a doormat, which proves you don’t understand the concept of a power exchange. Let’s go on to lesson two.”
She felt like a ping-pong ball, bounced from one emotion to another. Part of her was relieved he didn’t send her packing, yet she was also afraid he’d end up disappointed in her. She clearly did not get the rules between Doms and subs or, shit, even what made a good sub. All she had to do was keep her mouth shut and obey, and so far, she, who seldom failed at any task she undertook, had failed miserably.
“What is lesson two, Sir?” She tried her best to be meek.
“Practicing rule two.” He stepped back and removed his vest and G-string.
Her jaw dropped at the sight of his cock, and the spit in her mouth dried to dust. The man was huge, a stallion among men. Caitie’s legs shook. She wanted nothing more than to drop to her knees, take him in hand, and tame his beast.
“Oh, please, Sir.” She reached out to stroke him.
He stopped her. “Subs are not allowed to touch without permission. Consider that rule three.”
Frustrated, finding all these rules totally unfair, she glared at him. “Just what the hell can subs do? Sir?”
He lifted a brow, reminding her he was in charge. “What they are told to do, when they are told to do it, and how they are told to do it,” he replied in a firm, almost harsh tone.
Faced with his displeasure, she gulped. Good heavens. She needed a zipper for her mouth. Submissive, Caitie girl. Remember the candy. Lots and lots of candy. She bent her head, hoping to appear properly contrite even as her gaze remained fastened on his prime penis.
“Yes, Sir,” she said as she eyed his flared mushroomed head, yearned to lick that drop of pre-cum, wrap her hand around him, and lick him like a prized sucker. God, rules were hell, but now that he’d revealed his cock in all its erect glory, nothing else mattered but getting him inside her.
“Remove your dress.” He planted his feet apart and stood with his hands behind his back like a soldier at rest.
Caitie didn’t hesitate. She had a good body, worked to keep it toned and in shape. While she often wished her boobs weren’t quite so generous, she now was glad, as he’d made it clear he found them desirable. She untied the apron. It fell to the carpet. Staring into his silvery-blue eyes, she pulled her dress up and over her head, taking her time, teasing him as he’d tormented her. The dress joined her apron, and she stood naked and proud.
Damon sucked in his breath. His balls shot up as though they were puppets on wires. The air whooshed from his lungs. He stepped close, and she slid her fingers over his chest, tunneling through the mat of hair, leaving trails of tingling heat in their wake. He snagged her wrists, clipped them back together, lifted them above her head, and hooked them to a chain woven among the ivy of the fake plant.
Caitlin blinked in dismay and yanked her arms. She cried out. “No. R–”
Damon kissed her hard and deep, in part to stop her from using her safeword and partly to show her she had nothing to fear. He didn’t want to break her or push her to the point where she gave up and left.
Normally, if a woman didn’t work out as a sub, he’d end the session and save them both the time and effort and spent emotion. Sessions were draining, not only physically but also mentally and emotionally, and he didn’t waste his on women who didn’t know the score or were unsuited to the lifestyle.
But Caitlin was different, and he couldn’t chance her changing her mind. Not yet. He needed her unlike he’d ever needed or wanted anyone else. For three weeks, he’d thought of her, of this weekend and claiming her. Since seeing her photos, she’d haunted his dreams, leaving him aching and on edge. He needed her in a way that both thrilled and scared him. His hands roamed her body, following the sweet curves of her waist and hips, his palms gliding over her soft skin and around to her back to dip over the swell of her ass. He pulled her close, sandwiched his cock against her belly and rubbed.
Her throaty moans reassured him that her moment of panic was past. He lifted his head, stared into her eyes, noting the warring emotions. His fingers dug into her twin cheeks. “Good, Belle,” he murmured when
she gave no further protest. “I think you’ve earned a reward.”
“My hands?” Her voice was shaky yet hopeful.
He grinned. “I was thinking of my mouth.” He dropped slowly and carefully to his knees. The leather scraped against his scarred thigh. He shoved the pain aside and urged her feet apart. Inches from her crotch, he inhaled the musky scent of her arousal and stared at her glistening dark curls that hid the treasure he sought. A glimmer of pink teased and tantalized. His hands skimmed along the insides of her thighs, his fingers brushing over her mound of thick, springy dark hair as he framed her sex and peeled her open as though she were a precious gift.
He lost himself in the view of Caitlin’s slick pussy. She was wet, her clit swollen and peeping from its protective hood. He scraped the pad of his finger across that sensitive nub.
She sucked in air and thrust her hips forward. Damon, unable to resist, touched his tongue to her. He breathed in her warmth, and the taste of her cream exploded in his mouth. His intent to tease her fled beneath the raging need coiling inside him. He licked between her swollen lips and didn’t stop until he reached the grand prize.
Gripping her hips, he circled that sweet nub as though it were a tasty treat he planned to enjoy for a long time, but after two slow, lazy licks, he closed his mouth over her clit and sucked hard and deep.
She bucked and screamed his name. His balls tightened and jumped once more. His cock throbbed, the blood flow making him bob like a buoy in the ocean. In his ears, the roar of lust rose and merged with her whimpers and cries, forming a chorus of melodies and harmonies.
Caitlin’s hips circled, thrust, and demanded. Damon lifted his head and dipped his thumb inside her pussy. She was wet, and when she contracted her muscles, she drew him into her moist sheath. He withdrew his thumb and eased two fingers inside. She moaned, and her body pulsed and coated him with womanly juices.
He loved how easily she responded, how she put her trust in him. His gut clenched at the sight of his fingers sliding into her hot pussy, and the way she contracted around him left him breathless. She protested when he stopped.
Beauty Submits To Her Beast Page 4