YIELD - Emily & Damon (Fettered Book 1)

by Lilia Moon

  I raise an eyebrow. “You used that voice on me just a minute ago.”

  He looks a little sheepish. “Yeah, I did, because it’s a lot of fun to see your reaction. That’s fairly typical with Dom/sub pairs who’ve been together for a while—the teasing leaks out into the rest of their lives. But the specific power dynamic where you do exactly what I tell you is only for when we play. I let that blur some, and I’m sorry about that.”

  I’m not. “What if I’m okay with it?” I like knowing he’s human. I like the idea that we can play with this a little.

  I like it when he surprises me.

  His eyes look pleased again. “Then we’ll experiment some. And you’ll tell me if things are confusing.”

  I’m naked, my ass is sore, and I’m obeying orders from a man who is clearly really used to issuing them. I’ve never felt so respected in my whole life.

  His hands are on my ass again. “You went deep during the spanking. Tell me about that.”

  I’m not ready to talk about that part yet, but I already know that’s not a line I get to draw. “It felt really awkward at first. Too exposed. Too vulnerable.”

  He’s nodding. “That’s pretty much the point.” His hand moves to the small of my back.

  I sigh as that links up with something inside me, something that has learned exactly what that specific touch means. “How do you do that?”

  He’s smiling like I just told him he’s the best lover in the universe. “It doesn’t work with every sub, but when it does, it’s really powerful. Touch has to be negotiated in our world, though, so you always have the words to make it stop. Even something this simple.”

  Stopping is about the last thing I want him to do. “I didn’t expect to like the spanking.” I frown—those aren’t the right words. “It hurt, and it feels weird to say I liked that, but I wanted it.”

  Somehow that sounds even worse.

  His fingers stroke my cheek. “It’s okay to want things.”

  I need my inner demons to have something else to focus on. “What’s it like for you?”

  He looks surprised.

  “When you spank me, what’s that like?”

  He breathes in, and then a long, slow smile lights up his face. “When I can feel your skin quivering under my hands, and you’re flying at my every touch, and I can smell and feel and taste your arousal—that’s pretty much the best place in the world.”

  He sets my entire body on fire with those words.

  He moves his face closer to mine. “I want to spank you, and I want to plunge my fingers into your delectable pussy, and put my face between your ass cheeks and lick you everywhere with my tongue until you scream, and tie you to my bed and fuck you until you can’t stop coming.”

  I can’t breathe. I literally cannot breathe.

  He pulls back, and I can see I’m not the only one having trouble finding air. “But we’re not here to do those things. We’re here to figure out what you need.”

  My brain is still stuck on the part about his face between my ass cheeks.

  He chuckles ruefully. “Sorry, that just kind of slipped out.”

  I can’t speak. All I can hear is the wild, roaring desire pounding in every cell of my body.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Damon

  I can’t believe I just did that. I’m supposed to be the one who knows what the fuck he’s doing here, and I just dumped a whole pile of my needs on a sub who’s just barely beginning to figure out what she wants.

  It’s not helping that she’s apparently finding most of my blurted spew awfully damn arousing.

  We need out of this bed, but I can’t even begin to imagine not touching her right now.

  So I compromise. I tell my cock that he needs to behave or he’s never going to get what he wants in his natural lifetime, and then I pull out one of the oldest Dom training tools in the book. I take a deep breath, hope like hell I have the control I need for this, and reach for her chin again. “Emily.”

  Her eyes snap to mine. She’s stunning. My beautiful sub.

  My woefully under-educated sub. “It’s time to call me Sir. We’re stepping into play, okay?” This piece could be done inside a scene or not, but I need the boundaries. I need to remember I’m her Dom.

  “Yes, Sir.” She’s focusing now. Curious.

  I know how easily those eyes tried to slip into subspace on me with a simple spanking. I need to learn some things before I let her go there. “When we discussed our contract, you weren’t sure what you wanted, what you might like. It’s time to figure some of that out. I’m going to try some things, and you’re going to talk. A lot. I want you to tell me exactly how you feel, what you like, what you want more of.”

  She’s already looking embarrassed.

  Good—my Dom instincts aren’t entirely broken. “The truth, all of it that you know.”

  She’s already nodding, responding to my subtle use of control.

  “Lie down on your back, hands over your head.” I push her up the bed a little so that this will be comfortable. “Grab a couple of railings and hold on loosely. I’m touching. You’re talking.”

  I strip the covers back. I want to see all of her. The sudden change in temperature does very sexy things to her nipples. I reach out a single finger and start tracing wide, slow circles around one of the erect tips. I keep my distance from the rest of her body—I only want her to have a single point of touch to focus on.

  She closes her eyes, sighing.

  For now I’ll allow it. “How does it feel?”

  “Good. Quivery.” Her legs squirm a little. “I feel it in places you aren’t touching.”

  She’s had fifteen years of idiots in her bed. I know that’s not true, but I think it anyways. “What do you want me to do next?”

  Her mouth opens, but no words come out.

  I wait. I know this is the real problem of the last fifteen years. Either she doesn’t know or she hasn’t been brave enough to ask, and either way it’s a problem I intend to solve right now. I dial up my Dom voice to the level she responds to instantly. “Tell me how to touch you. Now, Emily.”

  Her head starts flailing side to side, bouncing off her upstretched arms. “I need, I want—my clit. And my nipple. Hard, I think.”

  As directions go, those are kind of weak, but we can work on that later. My right hand slides between her legs, thumb vibrating gently on her clit. My other hand reaches for her left nipple and tweaks it, hard.

  Her back arches off the bed and her arms try to reach me.

  I’m glad her eyes are closed so that she can’t see my wildly inappropriate grin. “Hands up, or I’ll tie them there.”

  Her eyes fly open, even as she obeys. I can see her processing the request. I lean over and hold down her wrists as I look in her eyes. “And you don’t come. No matter what.”

  I can see that she understands the game now—and I love the protest I see rising in her eyes.

  I also can’t allow it. “You know how to make it stop. Unless I hear those words, I don’t want you to speak and I don’t want you to come.”

  The voice is doing its magic on her. Shutting off the noise in her head. Her body, already reaching for what I’m offering.

  I put my hands back where they were, on her nipple and on her clit. I’m a little gentler this time, but not much. I can feel the electricity of her snapping between my hands, but she doesn’t move. Not a lot, anyhow.

  She just moans, a long, slow liquid sound that brings me right to the very edge of my self-control and screams at me to leap.

  I just keep rolling her nipple between my thumb and finger. “Harder or softer?”

  “Harder.” She’s gasping for breath. “Both hands.”

  “Both hands where, Emily?”

  “On my nipples. No.” She’s laughing in between her panting. “Dammit, why don’t you have three hands?”

  And here I thought she might not know what she wants. I lean over and bite her collarbone. “That’s what ton
gues and toys are for, silly.”

  Her whimper nearly slays me.

  I switch my hand to the other nipple and lower my mouth over the one I’ve already been torturing. She arches up toward me. I growl. She flattens back out with alacrity. I grin—I’m a very bossy Dom and she’s a very good listener. I reward us both with a sharp, sucking tug on her nipple at the same time as I work the other one between my finger and thumb.

  The hand on her clit gets a whole lot wetter.

  She’s very close. I need to be careful.

  I tune in deep and set up a rhythm on her nipples and clit that takes her right to that edge, but doesn’t force her over. It’s not easy—she’s coiled and tight and reaching.

  It’s the reaching that’s going to get us both in trouble.

  I slow down a little and put my mouth beside her ear. “Emily. What do you want?”

  “I want to come. I need to come.” She’s pushing into my hands again. “Please, Sir.”

  If the point of this scene were to make her beg, I’d be a very happy man. Since it isn’t, I’m frustrated enough for both of us. I park it. She needs her Dom right now, not a randy guy who can’t hold his shit together.

  “You don’t come. I want you to sink into this place right on the edge and tell me what you need and what you want and where you want my hands and my tongue so that you stay there.”

  She’s growling now. “I need to come. Please.”

  “No.” I put all the sharpness into the word that she needs. “You don’t.” I lean down again, giving her the anchor of my breath. “Learn this place, Emily. Own it as yours. I plan to bring you here a lot.”

  It takes her a magnificent effort not to come just from my words in her ear.

  I smile. She’s learning. “What should I do with my tongue next?”

  “Other. Side.” Her head turns that way, just in case I can’t remember which nipple I’ve been sucking. “Fingers inside me. Please.”

  She’s going to kill us both. I’m smart enough not to follow both directions at once, not while she’s trying so hard to do what I’ve demanded. I slide two fingers into her sopping wet pussy and hammer a reminder into my own thick skull.

  Nobody gets to come today.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Emily

  He’s brought me to the edge of the thing I want most of all in this entire world—and he won’t let me have it.

  I can feel his fingers inside me. Owning me. Anchoring me, just like the hand on my back.

  If I move I’m going to explode all over him, and somehow the only thing holding me back is that I don’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes. I breathe and try to relax. To let his fingers inside me be the center of the universe, the place where all my blood lives, the core of the new electrical wiring that runs from there to every other cell of my skin.

  His other hand is still on my nipple, but I know my limits. “Don’t, please. No more on my nipples. And the fingers inside me, don’t move them either, or I might die.”

  His chuckles vibrate my soul. “Fair enough. What do I get to move?”

  I can barely string words one to the next, but I know exactly what I want. My skin is on fire with the needing of it. “Light touch. Everywhere. Continuous, so I can follow your fingers.” I can already imagine the trails of flame on my skin in the wake of his touch.

  “Fingers”—he leans away for a minute and then brushes me with something else—“or feather?”

  I freeze. I’m stunned by the sudden and very real paralysis that claims my body.

  “What?” I can hear the new attentiveness in his voice. The concern. The demand.

  I choke it out. “I want your fingers. But I’m supposed to do what you want. If you want to use the feather, that’s—” I can’t believe I’m saying this. “I want to please you.”

  “Emily.” I can feel his breath, very close my face. “Open your eyes.”

  I do, and he’s watching me, and the look in his eyes is so proud, and so approving, and so full of acceptance. “What pleases me right now is for you to tell me exactly what you need. Why do you want my fingers instead of the feather?”

  I’m going wherever he takes me now. “I need to feel your touch. The energy in your fingers.”

  They’re already starting to travel my body.

  I can feel instantly that it’s too much. “Softer. Slower.”

  He’s adjusting to my every word. Giving me this power to have exactly what I want. I float on the languid rush of that as his fingertips glide down my side, barely touching me, never leaving me.

  I could do this for the rest of forever.

  “Is this your edge, Emily?”

  I want to lie. I want to tell him that it is and stay in this place of delicious melted-chocolate goodness with his fingers up inside me and traveling all over me. But my Dom has just asked me a question, and I’ve promised to tell him the truth. “No.”

  “Go there.”

  It’s not a request. I remember just how easily he brought me to that edge before, and I tremble. “Keep the feather hand moving just like it is.” I let that be my anchor now, because I have more needs rising to the surface and they don’t want to be dammed up. “Your other hand, can you move your fingers slowly in and out?” I don’t let myself stop. He asked for all the truth I know. “Maybe in and out of my ass too, if you can manage that.”

  His growl is long and low and unbelievably turned on. “Are you questioning my skills, sub?”

  I love this teasing. I never would have guessed such a thing, but I do. “No. Just the number of hands you have, Sir.”

  He’s chuckling, even as he slides his fingers out of my wet folds and further back. “That kind of impertinence will totally get you a spanking.”

  It blows my mind that I want to push just to see if it might. And then one of his fingers is rimming me and I don’t have time to think anymore. I was right—this is exactly what I want.

  “Pull up your knees.” His feather hand leaves me long enough to move some pillows, setting me up in a nest with my legs bent up and wide open to him. He makes a low hum of approval and skims light touch down my inner thigh. “You’re totally gorgeous, Emily.”

  My fingers clutch the rails above my head as he pushes a wet, slippery finger into my ass. I thought it would be less sensitive than my clit. I’m utterly wrong about that.

  “Emily. Open your eyes.”

  I do—and that alone nearly pushes me over. He’s looking straight at me and his eyes are full of crazy, intense heat. “I’m going to fuck you with my fingers now, in your pussy and in your ass.”

  He’s already doing it, and I can feel my body getting ready to shatter. His feather hand lands on my belly, like he knows I need a stronger anchor. “You’re going to keep your eyes glued to mine so that I can see you staying right on that edge and not going over.”

  I’m desperate to please him, and terrified I can’t. “I can’t stop it.”

  “Yes, you can.” He’s holding me there just with the power of his eyes. He’s rocking his hand now, first deeper into my ass and then deeper into my pussy. “Your orgasms are mine. You come when I say you can come.”

  I nearly scream with frustration—and then I can feel my body understanding.

  It’s not my job to stop them. It’s his.

  Mine is to believe that he can. That I’ve given him this power. That I can do whatever he wants me to do.

  I nearly weep with relief as I let my arms drop, my head drop, my knees drop. I let my entire body relax except my eyes. I smile at him and show him what I’ve just figured out. “Faster.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Emily

  Apparently having one appetite denied totally famishes another.

  I look at the heaping bowl of spaghetti on my plate and grin at Damon. “I’m not sure that’s going to be enough.”

  He laughs and scoots his bowl out of my reach. “Glutton.”

  I wiggle my sore ass on the chair. I can sti
ll feel the imprint of his fingers deep inside me, and for a woman who just got denied what she wants by an expert, I’m ridiculously happy.

  “You’re very sexy when you’re on an endorphin high.” Damon rolls spaghetti on a fork and watches my face.

  I’m not entirely clear what I’m high on, but it evidently requires lots of fuel. I give up trying to roll my spaghetti in pretty spirals and just shovel in a mouthful.

  He reaches over and wipes tomato sauce off my chin. “I should have made you eat naked.”

  “No way.” I fork in another mouthful. “Then you’d try to lick up my messes and I wouldn’t get to eat.”

  I can’t believe how hungry I am. It’s like I’ve just run some kind of marathon, and I was lying on my back the whole time. “Does this BDSM stuff always use up so much energy?”

  He’s eating, but way more slowly than I am—and he clearly can’t wipe the grin off his face. “Anything does when you throw yourself into it with that much energy and abandon.”

  It’s not something I tend to do in my life. I pause, suddenly saddened by that. “I guess I live a pretty boring life.”

  “You don’t strike me as someone who’s unhappy.”

  I frown at him. “I’m not.”

  “Then don’t judge your life as lacking just because you’re trying something different.” He shrugs at me. “Healthy people try new things. It’s okay to like them, and okay to have taken a while to discover them.”

  I really like him, even when his fingers aren’t inside me. “You have a way of talking about all of this that makes it sound really normal and reasonable.”

  He grins and scoops himself up some more spaghetti. “Comes with the job description. So talk to me. Did anything surprise you earlier?”

  He might be able to talk easily about this over noodles. It’s more of a stretch for me. “I was surprised that I knew what I wanted. I didn’t expect to know, but then suddenly there were these demands inside me and I knew exactly what I wanted you to do.”