by Riley Murphy
Every bit of strength she’d been mustering. All her if Cat can do this, so can I mojo, left her. There was nothing in its place but an awful sinking sensation. Had Cat done these things? “What about the apple?”
He tossed the bag of briefs to her and said, “That’s the only part you got right. The fruit’s for me to enjoy while I’m waiting you out.”
Waiting her out? She didn’t like the sound of that, but then wasn’t that up to her? All she had to do was cave like a house of sand in a wind storm and it would be all over with.
“Well?”
“Oh.” She looked down at the package of briefs and then up at him. “Is there somewhere I can get changed?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
She’d never been more serious, but he wouldn’t know it. “Of course.” She wasn’t that upset about having to strip down in front of him. Last night she’d practically been nude in front of fifty men in that skimpy bikini so this was no biggie. It was more the whole scenario that rubbed her the wrong way. Damn. She really wished she had a reason to say no to getting undressed, but that excuse had ended three days ago. Yeah, she couldn’t ever remember a time when she’d wished she could channel spontaneous menstruation.
“What’s so funny?”
She couldn’t tell him the truth. “I was imagining me with a pair of these on my head.” She flashed the briefs at him before plucking one out of the bag.
He sat back against the saddle seat and folded his arms over his chest. “If you don’t snap it up, you won’t have to imagine.”
Quickly, she put her head down and finished undressing. All the while thinking about Cat. Her sister better be holding up her part of the bargain and managing Wilde, better than she’d managed Cannon. Cannon was way more than Charlie had bargained for and they hadn’t even started his Scrooge pay back yet.
With her skirt that had her cell phone in its back pocket gently placed on top of the pile of clothes she’d positioned right next to the items he’d piled up, she went about pulling on the briefs. They must have been a youth size. They actually fit semi-snuggly. To cover how odd they felt though, she put a hand on her hip affecting a model pose, and looked up. “Hey, they’re not too bad.”
He came away from the stool, uncrossed his arms, and narrowed his gaze at her. “Don’t let your body go to your head. Now, go to the corner. Face it. I want your hands on the wall.”
When she walked by him he reached for her, pulling her in close. Automatically, she struggled until she accepted how futile that was. The moment she was still he curled down and whispered against her ear, “Make sure your palms are flat and your legs spread. Wide. You understand?”
She nodded, and he let her go. As she went to the corner she understood a great many things. Most notably, the man touched her more deeply with words than actions. She’d nearly swooned earlier when he mentioned a ball gag. Until that very moment she’d never considered what it would be like to have the freedom of speech taken from her. The idea fired something inside her. Excitement? She couldn’t be sure. But now as she pressed her naked palms to the wall she was sure about one thing. Exhilaration was a powerful force. Currently it was sending a dark and seductive thrill racing through her with the mere thought that Cannon was behind her. Looking at her. Waiting her out.
“I love it when you obediently listen. Now, move your ass for me.” She felt the warmth of his calloused hand at the base of her spine. He pushed, forcing her to sway her back so that her ass angled the way he wanted it to. “That’s right.” Oh God—she closed her eyes—he started pulling the briefs down, going slowly while he blew his heated breath along the newly exposed skin of her hip and bottom cheek. Then all movement stopped.
“Where did the tattoo come from?”
Her first thought was had he seen her sister naked before? That didn’t make any sense. Cat would have told her.
“I read through your profile very carefully and nowhere did it say you had any ink. In fact there was a mention of needles being on your hard limits.”
Relieved, she answered, “I fell in love with the bird and everything it represents.”
“Hm.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Isn’t that all going to change one of these days when you’re made to alter it?”
Hard to pull off being a submissive when you tell the Dom disciplining you that you love your freedom. Alter it? She needed to forget about that and maintain the status quo. “I suppose so.”
“There’s no suppose about it,” she heard him mutter before he took up where he’d previously left off. Only now he let his knuckles come in contact with her skin. His body heat against hers acted more like a caress, no, a claiming. The confident way he touched her was as if he’d known her for years.
The thought made her shiver and caused her to blush. The moment was so intimate it bordered on being stunningly personal. No wonder her breathing was measured and shallow. She wasn’t used to this kind of thorough attention.
In the slowest, meant-to-humble seesaw motion, he worked the cotton until it was mid-way between her upper thigh and knee. “I want you to hold this position so I can enjoy the spectacle. You look good like this, tiger. Really good.”
She scrunched her eyes shut tighter and bit her lip. Not wanting to explore why a flurry of butterflies had taken up flight in her stomach.
“Don’t you have something to say to me?”
“Thank you, sir.” The second that breathless reply left her mouth she snapped open her eyes. Where had that come from? The same place all your other unedited words had…
There she was staring at the impossibly smooth wall that had no visible signs of imperfections, praying he’d break out the ball gag for totally different reasons now. She was going to kill Cat when she got her hands on her.
“That’s more like it.”
The flat of his hand connected with her bottom, so sharply she gasped. “Oh.”
“Thank me again. Louder this time.”
Yeah. Cat was going down with a capital ‘D’ for this.
“Thank you, sir!”
“At ease, soldier. It’s going to be a long night so you may want to save some of that enthusiasm for later.” She shivered when he put a hand on her hip and squeezed. “Trust me. You’re going to need it.”
Holding back the urge to ask him “why” she figured now would be a good time to remind him. “Didn’t you mention something about a ball gag?”
He let go of her and laughed. It wasn’t until he stepped away that he said, “We’ll be getting to that. Right now I want you to concentrate on how you’re feeling. In thirty minutes you’re going to have to explain those feelings to me.”
She closed her eyes and thought about what she’d tell him. The decision wasn’t hard. She could go with moderately excited. After all, it was the truth. Was he sitting in the saddle? She heard creaking. Just the thought that he was going to study her naked butt for the full— Her eyes opened. He was talking, but not to her. What the hell?
“Hey. Yeah. No. I’m at home. Doing? Nothing much. Did that tire have a slow leak at the valve or was it a puncture? I thought so…”
Charlie listened to him talk shop for what she guessed was fifteen minutes. With each tick of her internal clock winding, and him not paying attention to her, she felt smaller and smaller. Was this what Cat had done to that service guy? What was wrong with her sister? For the next while she reflected on that. There shouldn’t be anything wrong with Cat. Cat, just like her name, had nine lives and she lived each one to the fullest. Doing whatever she wanted to do. She had an exciting life full of adventures. She pushed limits and took what she wanted.
If there was anything wrong with her sister, it was that.
Even though she told herself it happened a long time ago, the memory of what Cat had taken from her was vivid and real. She’d never felt true heartache before that time and it wasn’t over her boyfriend being one of the participants on that bed. She’d lost something more precious than her first love t
hat afternoon. She’d lost a piece of her soul through her twin’s betrayal, but she’d paid them both back and to this day they didn’t know it. If there was a secret she cared to share with Neil, that one would be the biggest.
“Are you ready to tell me how you’re feeling at the moment?”
His deep, almost paternal tone surprised her. She expected him to lord this over her or mock her at the very least. When there was nothing but patient silence that followed his query she whispered, “Sad. Very, very sad.”
Chapter Six
Neil was happy to hear that. He was beginning to worry that he’d lost his touch. “Sadness only sleeps.”
He walked over and positioned himself in such a way that his front was to her naked back. He told himself it was because he needed to crowd her while they talked, but it wasn’t. He’d been dying to get near her. To touch her. How fucking ironic that she’d have every feminine attribute he adored. Cat-like eyes, medium-sized breasts that were fuller on the bottom so her nipples pointed upwards, and a perfect little triangle between her legs. The second he’d seen that part of her when she undressed he’d wanted to run his tongue down the fine herringbone line of silk until he parted her for a taste. Curling down, he released a breath against her temple. “Sadness wakes up whenever we call to it.”
She shivered, but otherwise didn’t move. “I’d rather let sleeping dogs continue to lie where they were.”
The way she said this it was as if she’d told herself an inside joke. Maybe he had lost his touch. “I want you to explain to me how you think Danny felt when you did this to him.”
“Scared, a little excited, and humiliated.”
He watched her carefully. Her eyes were closed and he could tell the strain of the position she was in had become a burden, but she hadn’t complained. Instead she’d given him a reasonable assessment of Danny’s experience that day and every day that followed because the poor kid was left questioning the things that had been stimulating when she’d played with him. She’d opened Pandora’s Box and showed him the shiny without giving him the rundown on price. Without knowledge actions were useless.
“There’s a reason you do this kind of thing.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.” He moved back, smacked her on the ass, and ordered, “Straighten up and take off the briefs. Then go to the saddle and bend over it. Exactly the way you made Eric do it.”
She was one cool customer. It seemed she didn’t care to learn what motivated her to taunt the vanilla men in her life. Time to test that theory. He patiently waited for her to do as he’d asked, and then scowled when she assumed the position. Was this an attempt to tease him?
“Like this?”
He took one look at her beautiful ass with his handprint on it, shifting this way and that as she adjusted, and sighed. “I said I wanted you to do it the way you made Eric do it.”
The ass wiggling stopped. “Oh. About that? I don’t remember. I think it was like this, no?”
Her positioning would have been spot on if he was preparing to spank her. Her knees were straight and her back was perfectly arched. Was she daring him? He walked over to her and picked up the rope. With one flick he had it completely unraveled. “No, this isn’t right.” He dropped to his haunches and helped her readjust. “Put your right foot on this rung. Your left one goes on here.”
“I’m going to fall.”
“No you’re not.” Once he had her feet placed he stood and moved her upper body. “Stretch. I want you to hold onto the brace bar between the rungs.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Apparently not. Eric did it and he didn’t have the added luxury of soft leather against his skin.”
She was trying, but the bar was still out of reach. “I can’t do it. Eric must have been a nimble son of a gun.”
“You saw him. He’s five-foot-three and two hundred and twenty pounds. Stretch.” He’d meant to be brusque with her, but failed when she accepted his help with quiet grace. He found himself softening his tone and instructing, “Rise up on the balls of your feet on the rungs. That’s right.” He bent with her and for the briefest moment they were breathing in unison. “There, now don’t move. This is how I’m going to tie you.”
With a portion of her hair puddled on the ground and the rest of her ass up, she looked spankable, fuckable, available—hell, adorable. He stooped to get a better look at her profile. The expression of pure concentration on her face made him smile. She might be a fucking handful, but at least she was committed when she chose to be. He dropped to his haunches again and said, “I hope you’re working on your story. It better be good. I’ll know if it isn’t.” He tied the rope around her right ankle and fastened it to one of the stool legs. The moment that limb was securely fastened, he shifted to tie her left wrist to the brace. “I plan to check…frequently. Don’t move.”
“When you say stuff like that it’s hard not to.”
He paused midway through making the last tie around her other ankle, and frowned. She said the most peculiar things. “Stuff?”
“What?”
She sounded anxious so he continued to press her about it. “Answer me.”
“Really?”
Now that was a whine. He hated whining. He draped the rope over the brace and reached for her hair. Slowly, he fisted a hand in the soft curls and pulled until her head was angled enough that their gazes met. “You have thirty seconds to explain yourself before I start getting really creative with your punishments. At the moment we’re doing this the vanilla way; if you want to step things up a bit I could see a ribbed plug, vibrating nipple clamps, and a flogger in your future.”
She never even blinked. “You.”
He held her stare. “Me what?”
“You’re very intimidating and the thought of you touching me like that makes me…restless.”
Given the circumstances, that was the best reply she could have made. “Head down, tiger.” He gently eased his grip in her hair until she was back to her original positioning. “Now, tell me a story.” Picking up the apple that was sitting on the belt, he shined the fruit on his shirt and got comfortable. When he was seated on his ass with one leg stretched out and his other drawn up with knee bent, he waited. He was just about to take a bite as she started. Automatically he paused to listen, and that’s when he frowned and dropped his arm. “Nice try. I saw that movie and it wasn’t very good. You have one more chance, don’t blow it.”
She took so long to collect her thoughts he shrugged and bit into the apple. He was sure the snap of his teeth breaking through the waxy skin would distract her. If not, his chewing probably would. Unfortunately, he was wrong on both accounts when she started. Her voice may have been quiet, but her words were clear. So clear he sat up straighter to listen.
“I feel the heat of your breath against my skin. Your lips are firm and hot when you open your mouth to suck on my throat. Right at the sensitive part where my pulse beats faster because of your touch. You splay your hand and rest it against my naked belly, not moving, just pushing with downward pressure so I know where you mean to go next…”
Neil forgot about the apple. He forgot about everything while her story drew him in. It was intimate and sexy without being vulgar. It was romantic, erotic, with such an innocent tone to the narrative that for a few minutes he forgot she was tied to the stool and this was a lesson for her. They were both focused on the conjured imagery. Both mentally participating in the illusion of what she created with her words until it occurred to him that maybe she was copying what Eric had said when she played with him. Had his stocky service tech dazzled her with this kind of story? A romantic tale where him and her were the stars?
The thought pulled him right out of the moment and the energy that had been vibrating between them vanished. She must have noticed because she abruptly ended the storytelling, and whispered, “I don’t think there’s any need for me to go further.”
A slow wave of adrenaline beat throug
h him. He tossed the apple into the distant trash can and stood. “Why’s that?” Moving directly behind her, he pressed his palms to the insides of her knees, loving how she trembled at his touch. Then, just as she’d described in her story, he leisurely dragged his hands up her thighs until he was close to her heat. Not touching, but near enough he felt her warmth. “Are you going to answer me?”
“I’m turned on. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
“No.” He put one hand on the curve of her ass right over her tattoo and used the index and middle finger of his other hand to circle her pussy. He started off wide, skating over her flesh, tightening up the circle after each completed pass. “I wanted you wet. Are you?”
Boldly, he pushed the tips of his fingers between her pretty pink folds and when she sucked in a breath, he nearly did too. She wasn’t wet. She was drenched. His command was barely a whisper, “Tell me.”
“Y-yes.”
Damn, he really should have let this go. Teasing her like this wasn’t on their dance card tonight. He had other plans for her. If only she hadn’t chosen that moment to moan and sexily flex into his touch. The invitation was one he couldn’t ignore. He cupped the soft triangular flesh, applying pressure with all four of his fingers and gently massaged her clit with the palm of his hand. “I want you to say it, Catherine.”
“I’m wet.” She sighed and tried to push back, seeking more of what he was offering, but no matter how sweetly she begged with her body, having her admit that truth was good enough for him.
He took his hand away and tamped down the urge he had to bite her ass. The woman had an incredible body and he was doing his best to ignore it. “Let me untie you.”
“We’re done?”
“With the stool, yes. Stay exactly as you are until I’m finished. I’ll let you know when you can get up. You might be a little lightheaded and I don’t want you to injure yourself.”
When he had the rope untied and rolled in a neat bundle he threw it to land beside the belt. “Okay. Here.” He gripped her hips and half lifted, half guided her in a back slide off the saddle. “Hold onto me.”