Besides, he'd waited this long to kiss her again. He could wait a little longer, until she was ready.
Aw, fuck that shit. He was a Dom. He could stop once she came to her senses. Just a matter of showing some self-discipline. He had control; he was in control, no question. He also had limits, and this was pushing him close, entirely too close to the line he should not, would not cross.
Right now, though, he'd lost control of the lower half of his body as his tongue traced along her closed lips. When she didn't pull away, he slipped the tip of his tongue inside her mouth, testing her.
She moaned and brought her other hand out of the blanket to grab onto his neck—or maybe just to hold on. Needing no further invitation, he grasped the sides of her head to hold her steady. His tongue delved farther inside, prodding her teeth to part for him. They did, with no resistance. His tongue pressed against hers, waiting to see if she wanted more. When hers sparred playfully with his, he had his answer. He tucked a finger under her chin and tilted her head back, opening her mouth wider for his tongue to explore. She held on more tightly to his neck as he pulled her body close enough to make her feel secure. His hand slid down to cup her breast expecting it to be covered by the blanket, but it had fallen when she'd moved her hand. Mierda. He pinched her nipple, not too hard, but enough to get her cute little ass to squirm against him.
She grew still.
Aw, fuck. Don't stop now, bebé. We were just getting to the good stuff.
She pulled away and looked at him. "I'm sorry. I don't know what got…"
"I'm not sorry in the least. I've dreamed about kissing you again for years."
"I think I'd better go."
"You live here."
"Oh, yeah. Then I think you'd better go."
She was adorable, all flustered from their first kiss in fucking forever. Damián reached up and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. He missed her being a blonde. He missed having her and Marisol living with him.
"You know, we can remedy this confusion about where you live. You can come back home to my place tonight."
She swallowed hard and blinked a couple of times, but she didn't say "no" outright.
"Bebé, it's just not the same there without you and Marisol. I'll still sleep on the couch and give you two the bedroom."
Still no response, but she seemed to be sorting something out in her mind. When she looked down at her lap, he figured she'd tell him to "take a hike."
Better to beat her to it. "Never mind." He nudged her to indicate it was time for her to get up off his lap and helped her sit up. "Why don't you get dressed? I'll take you over to pick up Marisol. I want to see how she's doing. You can ride back over here with Angelina."
She reached up and brushed the tip of her index finger over his lips, which were still wet from their kiss. His dick sprang to life as if she'd touched him there.
Her eyes grew round. She'd definitely felt that, too.
He kissed her finger and she pulled it back. Oh, well. One step forward. Two steps back.
"Damián, I think that's a good idea."
She'd just short-circuited his brain so badly, he didn't even know which particular idea she was talking about. He'd had a lot of ideas in the past couple of minutes she probably wouldn't think were all that good.
"Mari wants to live in your apartment. She asks me every night when we're going back. She's missing Boots…and you."
He grinned. He'd take second billing to a kitten if it got Savi back under his roof again. Fuck, yeah. It was a start.
"What about you?"
She nodded. "Adam and Karla have been wonderful hosts, and there's lots of room here, but…I think Mari and I both felt more at home at your place."
He hoped he wasn't making a mistake. He'd already involved himself more emotionally with her than with any other bottom he'd ever worked with. He should man up and do the right thing; tell her she needed to stay here—for her own good.
Hell, who was he kidding? He wanted her to come home to him, too. All he'd wanted since she'd left for Dad's was to have her back. He hoped he wouldn't start wanting more than she could—or should—give him. She wasn't ready for sex, that's for damned sure. Maybe he wasn't either, although he had let her see his stump. That was a huge step for him; it made him fucking vulnerable to her, but she hadn't been repulsed by him.
Savi had her own body-image issues. She was as hung up on her brand as he had been about revealing his maimed body. Madre de Dios, if she only knew how much he wanted her, just the way she was.
He could continue to live without sex; he hadn't been with a woman in more than a year now. The objective with Savi wasn't sex, but intimacy. He needed to let her know how fucking sexy and desirable she was. To change the way she interpreted those messages rattling around in her head. And to let him inside those incredible walls she'd erected to protect herself from pain and emotion.
Time to plan another scene.
"Let's go pack your things. We're going to see if Angelina can watch Marisol again tomorrow, because we have a boulder to shove out of the way." He paused. "It's time for you to let me see the brand, Savi."
She grew tense. "No, Damián, I don't think…"
"I do."
She pulled at the skin around her thumbnail and he placed a hand over hers to still them. She often drew blood when she picked at her hands nervously. They were worse than ever today. After several moments, she looked up at him, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. Damn. She was shutting down again.
"I'm scared."
He held her quivering chin. "Savi, you've hidden that damned thing so long, you've let it rule your life."
She pulled away from his hand.
"Bebé, that brand doesn't define you or anything about you. How can I make you see that what makes you special to me and a lot of other people isn't your body? It's what you think and feel that counts, and that's what we're going to continue to work on getting you to see, even if it takes us months. You've made a big difference in a lot of people's lives—especially Marisol's and mine. That's why I…" Fuck. He'd almost said he loved her. He wasn't ready for that any more than she was. "It's what I find so damned attractive about you."
The frown on her face told him she didn't buy any of his speech—and she wouldn't, until she let go of the hold that fucking brand had over her. He probably should strap her down on the gyno table again now and get this behind them, but she hadn't relinquished her tight hold on that hard limit yet. If he forced the issue, he'd be no better than the men who had abused her in the past.
"Just think about it, Savi." He helped her stand and rose from the bench himself. Pulling the blanket up around her shoulders, he looked around for her clothes. "I think we left your blouse in the great room. Why don't you get your jeans on while I go get it."
She grabbed his hand before he could walk away. "No, wait." She took several deep breaths.
You can do it. Be brave, mi Savita.
"Okay." Her voice was so low, he wasn't sure he heard right. Had she agreed to push the limit?
"Come again?"
She looked at him. "I said, okay. I mean, okay, I'll think about it tonight, and I'll let you know in the morning what I decide."
He wasn't sure if she'd backtracked to the discussion on moving home with him, so he wanted to be sure he knew what they were talking about.
"Think about what, Savi?"
She swallowed. "About letting you see the brand."
That's my girl. He stroked her soft cheek. "Thank you, Savita, for being so brave." He bent to brush her lips.
She pulled back. "I haven't agreed to anything yet."
"No, but even considering it is a big step forward. I'm very proud of you."
She blinked slowly, but he let her get away with hiding her emotions this time. Tomorrow would be time enough for her to really let go. He was going to go ahead and plan the scene, regardless. If not tomorrow, he hoped he'd be able to get her to reveal it to him someday soon.
&
nbsp; * * *
I can do this.
"Breathe, Savita."
Damián stroked her arm and placed his other hand against the small of her back as he led her into yet another theme room. How many were there in a kink club like this? He seemed to take her to a different one for every scene.
She couldn't believe she'd agreed to do this particular scene at all, but after tossing and turning in bed last night, her battered defenses were worn thin.
The way Damián responded to the news that she'd been branded went a long way toward crumbling those walls, too. He'd comforted her, told her how strong she had been, and hadn't been repulsed by the idea of her having been branded at all.
He'd even kissed her. Well, she'd started it. What had gotten into her? Having his lips on hers—when he wasn't stealing her breath away—had been delicious. She'd enjoyed his kisses before, but knowing him so much better now just made it that much nicer.
But kissing was the farthest thing from the plan tonight. Would letting him see the ugly mark really release the hold it had over her? Dear lord, please let it be so.
She looked around the room, trying to figure out the theme for this one, but it seemed rather eclectic. There was some kind of leather sling hanging from chains in the corner. In the opposite corner was a stockade like ones she'd seen in books about witches in the eighteenth century. There was a low bench nearby it for someone to sit on and…
Oh! She realized what they could do in that position and looked over at the sling again and saw a similar bench she hadn't noticed before.
Was he going to strap her to one of those in order to look at the brand? Before she could speculate further, Damián walked over to a hinged, horizontal cross. "Come, Savi."
The cross had a padded seat covered with a hand towel. There was a hinge near the seat, and the wooden "legs" were in the lowered position. She walked over to the contraption and stared. As with the other equipment in this room, there was a small step stool at the juncture of the legs of the cross. Her face grew warm at the thought of the view someone would have while sitting on that stool.
Damián took her hand and guided her up onto the step. Well, sometimes a step stool was just a step stool. She relaxed a bit, reining in the demons.
"Turn around."
She turned to face him. He'd already told her to strip, again in the great room amongst the Saturday night crowd. It was becoming easier for her to do that now, although he'd made her strip nude this time. While Damián had seen her naked body many times, it was the first time she'd been totally nude in front of the other club members.
Tonight, though, she would reveal something making her much more vulnerable. How he hadn't seen the brand at the beach, she didn't understand. Maybe because the cave was dark and he was more focused on…other parts of her pussy.
After today, she'd have no more secrets from him.
Damián stepped closer. 'Now, I'm going to teach you how to present yourself upon my command."
He took her arms and placed them at her sides, then took her left hand and bent it at the elbow until the back of her hand was pressed into her lower back. He did the same with her right elbow, overlapping the two behind her. "Clasp your elbows with your hands."
She did as instructed, noticing that her chest now jutted out even more than before. Warmth suffused her face. I can't do this.
He came back around and his gaze drew hers like a magnet.
"Very pretty."
He smiled and she felt the warmth pool in her abdomen. She wanted him to think her pretty, even if she wasn't.
He wedged his prosthetic foot between her legs and tapped her ankles. "Spread your legs to shoulder width." Savi complied. She felt as if she were standing at attention for inspection, as she'd seen the troops do in the movies and on TV.
"Beautiful."
If he got off on military fantasies, why didn't he go after Grant or someone who was much more adept at being what he wanted? Why try and make her into…
"What was that thought?"
She shook her head. "I haven't submitted my mind, Sir. Only my body."
He smiled. "Oh, butI think you've submitted both, Savi." He caged her chin. "Now, tell me what you were just thinking."
She tried to withdraw emotionally by glancing away, but he gripped her chin even harder. "Look. At. Me." He bit out the words and waited.
Uncomfortable with the silence, Savi complied. "If you're into military fantasies, why don't you find a female Marine to fulfill them." Maybe she had submitted her mind; it certainly seemed intent on doing whatever he told her to do.
He raised his brow. "Who said anything about a military fantasy?"
She would have looked down or away, but he wouldn't let her move her head. "The way you've…posed me. I feel like a soldier at attention."
He laughed and tweaked her nipples. "You're definitely standing at attention, but I'm not into soldier fantasies. Nor Marine ones. You're presenting yourself to me, your Top, as a show of respect for my authority over your body—and mind."
His mouth came down on her right breast and, without thinking, she released her elbows to push him away.
He growled. "You forget yourself, chica. Whose body is this?"
Why had she done that? He'd touched her there before. She resumed the position. "Yours, Sir. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."
But she did know. The reason she was on edge had to be very clear to both of them. The thought of him seeing her brand petrified her.
"Before I continue, I want you to tell me once again about any places on your body that are still hard limits and not to be touched or looked at."
Savi took a deep breath. "None, Sir. I have no more limits. My entire body is yours to touch—and look at." Surely he could hear the wobble in her voice, but when he smiled at her, she felt a calm come over her.
Damián won't judge me. Damián won't harm me.
"That's my girl."
His hand rested on the back of her neck and her entire body relaxed. Remembering herself, she straightened her presentation stance.
I can do this…for Damián.
"Now, how do you feel about penetration?"
Her next heartbeat jumped into her throat. "Of what, Sir?"
He reached between her legs and laid his middle finger along her cleft, claiming his territory. "Of my pussy, for this scene."
"W-with what? I don't want to have sex."
"Not with my dick then. What about toys, my fingers, my tongue? We haven't negotiated those yet because your pussy was a hard limit until tonight. Now that you've allowed me access to it, I want to clarify how much consent you're giving me."
Sex was off-limits. Good. But was penetration of other objects a hard limit for her? No clue. Memories of his tongue on her clit at the beach cave sent a flush into her cheeks. She'd thought he was just going to look at the brand and be done with it. "I'm not sure."
He took his hand away. "Fair enough. You have your safewords—tamale for stop and guacamole for slow down—if you need them."
"Yes, Sir. I remember." She held her chin a little higher. "And you know I'm not afraid to use them, either." She didn't know where that defiance came from. Would she never learn to discipline her tongue?
He grinned, rather than scolded, easing some of the tension in the room. "No, that you aren't, which actually makes my job easier. Thank you. Sometimes bottoms are so afraid of disappointing their Dom or Top that they don't use their safeword when they should." He reached up and tweaked her nipple, causing it to engorge. "All right, then. We'll continue."
She took a deep breath. Only he knew the plan. Apparently sex hadn't been part of it, if he was continuing without a change.
She looked around the room. Unlike some of the dark theme rooms, there was a lot of light in here. He would see everything.
"Ready?"
"Y-yes, Sir." No. She'd never really be ready for this. Once he saw her brand, he'd be so repulsed by her.
When he lowered his
mouth to her nipple, she steeled herself, but didn't pull away. She didn't understand what pleasure he got from sucking it; she felt nothing. Her breasts had been desensitized long ago.
He bit her nipple and she jumped. Whoa! She hadn't expected that!
He flicked his tongue over the tip and something coiled deep inside her, much like the pressure that had built last night as she'd stroked herself to an orgasm.
Her breathing grew shallow, hitching a couple of times, and she fought the urge to push him away again. She closed her eyes and hoped he would finish soon.
When he pulled away, she relaxed, but he soon descended upon the other breast. His hand gently cupped her breast as his mouth devoured her again. He continued to bombard her senses, stirring long-buried memories. He let go and blew on her wet nipple. The peak grew larger under this assault on her senses.
When Damián stepped back, she shivered, missing his body heat. She kept her eyes closed, embarrassed to look at him, and heard his leathers creak.
"I made these nooses just for you."
Nooses? She was afraid to look, but curiosity led her to open her eyes. In his hand, he held a pair of what looked like red-and-black, seed-beaded earrings. However, instead of the hooks to place them into her earlobe, there was a small plastic loop of what looked like the thin string she and Mari used to make beaded bracelets.
He slid the beads down the doubled string and the loop—no, the noose, as he called it—grew larger. He placed it around her engorged left nipple, and pushed the beads toward the nipple to tighten it just to the edge of pain.
As he attached the other, he said, "I want to keep these babies at attention throughout the scene. They'll be a good indicator for me of your state of arousal, too."
His expectations were too high. "I don't want to disappoint you. What if I can't get aroused again, Sir?"
He chuckled and pulled on the beaded part of the first noose. Her nipple grew even more swollen, and she gasped at the pain as it was squeezed by the already tight noose. Oh, dear lord, it hurt! Her clit zinged.
He tightened the other noose and tugged on it with the same results.
"At ease."
It took her a moment to realize he wasn't giving the order to her nipples. She stifled a giggle at her silliness. What had come over her? She regained her composure and drew her legs together as she lowered her arms to her sides.
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