I blinked. I wasn’t accustomed to this demanding side
of him. It startled me, unsettled me, but I loved it. Trying to ignore the way he watched me, the scrutiny in his expression, I did as he ordered, letting my shirt fall to the floor, followed shortly by my jeans. For some reason, I paused before taking my bra and panties off. I had no reason to doubt that he meant I was to remove all of my clothes, but I hesitated. I gave him an inquisitive look.
He nodded. “All of it.” His hand was on his cock, stroking slowly as he watched me.
I swallowed and unclasped my bra. It was odd to feel so modest, so exposed, in front of Darren, but this was an odd scenario. He’d seen me naked many times before, but he was watching me. He was giving me orders. He’d already chastened me once when I didn’t do exactly as he’d told me. I didn’t want to make a wrong move, not for fear of humiliation on my part or anger on his, but because I didn’t want to give him anymore of a reason to withhold his cock.
I realized then that my hesitation was not a result of modesty, but vulnerability. Though I trusted him implicitly, he was in absolute control. Even without touching me, without saying a word, without doing anything more than watching me and stroking himself—fuck, Darren, you’re killing me—he was completely, one hundred percent, in control.
“Now lie down on the bed,” he said as I dropped the last of my clothes on the floor. I did, and he quickly got out of his own clothes. His belt buckle clanged a moment before his jeans hit the floor, and I chewed my lip. Oh Jesus, Darren take it all off. I closed my eyes and tried to keep my breathing steady. Tried to remember how to breathe at all. I couldn’t remember ever needing him this badly, so badly that I couldn’t even look at him.
He sat on the bed and leaned towards me. No, across me. I opened my eyes and out of the corner of my eye, something silver glinted in the light. I turned my head just in time to see him snap one side of a set of handcuffs onto one of the vertical slats of the headboard.
My lips parted in surprise. He flashed me a grin and picked up my hand, pulling it gently towards the headboard. I swallowed hard as cold metal snapped around my wrist. Then he did the same with another pair of cuffs and my
other wrist. The cuffs creaked as he adjusted their tension.
“Is that too tight?” he asked, his voice gentle.
I shook my head. It wasn’t comfortable, the edges bit into my skin, but I’d manage.
He trailed his fingertips down my side. The softness of his touch contrasted dramatically with the sharpness of the cuffs digging into my wrists. “Now I have you right where I want you,” he whispered, his breath hot on my nipple. His fingers brushed over my hip bone, then pushed my thighs apart. I moaned as he touched my clit, but he only circled it once or twice before he moved his hands away. I whimpered in protest.
He laughed. “You want more of that?”
“Please,” I said.
He rested his hand on my inner thigh, dangerously close to my pussy, but not touching it. “You want me to play with your clit, don’t you?”
“Yes. I do. Please.”
He kissed my shoulder, my neck. “Maybe slide my fingers into your pussy and let my hand play with your clit instead?” The hand on my inner thigh moved slightly, almost imperceptibly, imitating the delicious movement I so desperately wanted him to perform on my clit.
My entire body was trembling. “Please.”
His lips brushed my earlobe, raising goosebumps all over my arms as he said, “You want me to do that, and keep doing it until you fucking scream, don’t you?”
“Yes!”
He kissed below my ear. “I can’t hear you.”
“Yes. Please, Darren, please.”
“No.”
It was a simple declaration. No explanation, no additional thoughts, just a one-word denial. It echoed in the silence between us as he kissed the side of my neck.
I clenched my fists and strained against the handcuffs as he trailed his fingers up and down my sides, my inner thighs, over my breasts. For an eternity, he did nothing more than touch me. Caress me. Breathe on me.
I bit my tongue. I wanted to call him a tease, to tell him to just fucking put his hand on my pussy and stop teasing me, but I didn’t dare. He was calling the shots. I was at his mercy. Resistance would only mean more frustration, more denial.
“I love watching you like this,” he said, his voice breaking the stillness and startling me. “You’re losing your fucking mind, aren’t you?”
No point in denying it. I’m sure my aggravation was written across my face, if not across my trembling, squirming body. “Yes, I am.”
He laughed. “Good.”
Then he stopped what he was doing. His body shifted and my pulse jumped. I closed my eyes, swallowing hard as the trembling worsened. Up until that second, I’d wanted him to stop teasing me, to just do something instead of just tormenting me, but now that he was about to do something else, I wanted to scream at him to just go back to what he was doing. The uncertainty of what else he had up his sleeve was maddening.
I waited. My eyes were screwed shut. I couldn’t breathe. I was afraid to move, afraid to just lie there. I sensed him close by, but he was still and silent. He was planning something. No. That wasn’t right. He wasn’t planning a damned thing: He was executing it, using this silent stillness to drive me insane before his next move. I had no doubt he was watching me with a look of total amusement as I squirmed in anticipation.
I chewed my lip. I waited. I twisted my hands around and gripped the chains on the handcuffs, just to stop the shaking.
My every sense was heightened. The nerves in my skin may as well have been electrified, the hairs standing on end, waiting for him to finally make contact, somewhere, somehow.
The mattress shifted slightly; Darren was moving. I sensed him over me, felt the heat of his body near my hip, but still he didn’t touch me.
I held my breath.
Fuck. Fuck.
A single cool breath touched my hip bone. I gasped and my entire body came up off the bed as if he’d shocked me. My eyes flew open and I looked down at him. He blew on my hip bone again, grinning at me, at the way I shook
now more than before.
“Jesus Christ,” I said.
He laughed. More breath on my skin. I shivered.
I moaned and closed my eyes again. I’d always expected any kind of BDSM to involve whips and chains, roughness and pain. Yet Darren was, aside from when he’d held my hair earlier, being more gentle than ever. Gentle, but completely dominant. Completely in control.
I had never imagined that this level of frustration existed. More than that, I would never have believed that I could be so damned frustrated, so fucking infuriated, and so breathlessly aroused all at the same time. I wanted to smack him. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to fuck him until the end of time.
He moved again, this time settling between my thighs so that I could feel his breath right on my clit. I jumped when his fingertips touched my pussy lips.
“Your pussy is so wet,” he whispered. He let one finger slide into me, then a second. “Christ, I could fuck you right now.” He looked up at me. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I clenched my teeth. There was no right answer. If I said no, he wouldn’t. If I said yes, he’d drag it out. My frustration made it to the tip of my tongue before my brain could hold it back: “Fuck.”
He laughed, kissing my inner thigh gently. “I will, don’t worry.”
I’m sure you will. I’m sure you fucking will. But for the love of God, Darren, don’t wait much longer or your bed is going to burst into flames. But the only sound that came out was a pitiful moan.
I moaned again as the heat of his mouth made contact with my pussy. Finally. Finally, he was going to do something to give me the release I needed.
Or so I thought. His tongue made slow, gentle circles around my clit. Around it, but not touching it. Staying just far enough away to keep from stimulating it directly, but
close enough to keep me from drawing a proper breath.
His fingers slid in and out, bending slightly, but narrowly, deliberately avoiding my G-spot.
And he kept doing it, licking around my clit, fingering around my G-spot. Playing with me, but refusing to give me what he knew I wanted, what he knew I needed. And knowing him, with his endless patience and self-control, he could have done it all night.
Stop fucking teasing me and give me a Goddamned orgasm, you son of a bitch!
He laughed. “Making demands now, are we?”
My breath caught. It was only then that I realized that I had actually spoken the words aloud.
He brought his head up and looked at me, still making those maddening strokes inside me with fingers. “You know I’m making the rules tonight, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I breathed. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
He clicked his tongue. “Ah, but you’ve broken the rules twice tonight.”
Bloody hell. “I’m sorry.”
He lowered his head again. When he spoke, his breath whispered across my clit, sending lightning bolts through me. “You’re going to have to make up for that, you know.”
I swallowed. “How?”
“There’s really only one thing you can do.”
If I wasn’t shaking before, I was now. I had no idea what to expect, no idea what he could possibly do to torment me more than this. My mouth was dry as I said, “Tell me what I have to do.”
He didn’t speak. He kept his aggravating movements going. The silence, the anticipation of his “punishment”, combined with what he was deliberately not doing to my clit and G-spot, were making me come completely and utterly undone.
“Tell me,” I pleaded. “Please, tell me.”
He stopped what he was doing with his tongue just long enough to whisper a single word. “Come.”
The word hadn’t even registered in my consciousness before he made contact with both my G-spot and my clit, and I did exactly as he ordered. Everything went white, everything spun, and I must have screamed every obscenity I knew a dozen times over before I finally came back to Earth.
He pushed himself up and came up to kiss me. I was vaguely aware of the heat of his body against mine, but most of my conscious thought was distracted by his erect cock
pressing against my thigh.
“I think,” he said, kissing me with the sweet taste of my pussy on his tongue. “That I should fuck you.” He didn’t wait for me to tell him if I wanted him to do it or not. I’m sure he knew the answer, and he was calling the shots anyway.
He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom, sitting back so that he could put it on.
I released the chains on the handcuffs and turned my hands, trying to get them comfortable. I’d almost forgotten about them, but now that I was slightly calmer, the discomfort was noticeable.
Darren glanced up at my hands. “Are the cuffs hurting you?” He wasn’t playing around this time, he was being serious.
I shook my head. “They’re fine.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded.
“Good.” He lowered himself over me. I tensed, not sure if he was going to tease me, or if he—
He slammed his cock all the way inside me, taking my breath away, then immediately withdrew. “Do you want more?”
Oh God, he isn’t done yet, is he? “Yes,” I moaned. “God yes.”
“Beg for it.” He slammed into me again, withdrew. “I want to hear you scream for my cock.” The head of his cock teased my pussy, melting any chance I had of forming a coherent thought. “Come on,” he said softly, letting his lips brush the side of my neck. “Beg for it. Scream for it or I will pull all the way out.”
My chest seized at the thought of him pulling out. He couldn’t. Not with how badly my body ached for his cock. “Fuck me,” I said. “Fuck me. Please. Hard.”
“Louder.”
I raised my voice just above a desperate whisper. “Fuck me.”
He slammed into me again, pulled out. “Say it like you mean it, Marisa. Let the whole damned city know how much you want my cock.”
Eric’s face flickered through my consciousness. I
imagined him in the next room, listening, getting turned on by my screams.
Darren started to pull all the way out, but I lifted my hips, took a breath, and made sure he heard me. “Fuck me! Oh God, Darren, fuck me, please!”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he growled, and he fucked me.
Now that I’d found my voice, I couldn’t stop it if I tried. I screamed for him, begged for more, begged him not to stop. I was desperate to touch him, to claw at his sweating, quivering shoulders and hold on to him, but I couldn’t. My arms strained against the handcuffs and I didn’t care how much they dug into my wrists. Since my hands were restrained, I planted my heels on the bed and thrust my hips up to meet him.
In the back of my mind I wondered if he would stop, would punish me for daring to move, but the groan that reverberated against my neck told me the time for games was over. He fucked me harder. I returned his thrusts harder. My throaty cry faded into a helpless moan as a breathtaking orgasm sent icy waves of electricity rippling up my spine from my G-spot, from my clit, from God only knew where, from everywhere.
And still Darren fucked me. Each breath he released against my neck was shorter and sharper than the last. His rhythm faltered and his shoulders bunched above his trembling arms. His breath caught and he slammed into me, a violent shudder working its way up his spine as he released a deep roar.
For a long moment, he was still, just breathing against my neck, trembling. Then he lifted his head and kissed me lightly.
He shifted his weight to one arm and reached over my head. One of the handcuffs released. A second later, the other. I brought my hands down, flexing my fingers and wrists gingerly.
“Shit, that’s going to leave a mark, isn’t it?” he said. I looked at my wrists, and sure enough, an angry red welt encircled each just below the heel of my hand.
“I’ll live,” I said.
He smiled. “I know.” He kissed me, then eased himself
off of me and went to take care of the condom. When he came back, he put his arms around me.
“That was incredible,” I said.
He kissed me gently. “Even when you wanted to kill me?”
I laughed. “How did you know?”
“I had a hunch.” He played with my hair. “You wouldn’t be the first sub that was thinking of kicking the dom’s ass.”
“You’re lucky I was handcuffed.” I kissed him. “You can be a merciless tease, you know that?”
“Well, that was the idea, wasn’t it?”
“Fair enough.”
“I won’t tease you anymore tonight, I promise,” he said, kissing me deeply.
“Don’t say that.”
“Are you suggesting that you want me to tease you some more tonight?”
“I’m not suggesting anything,” I said, wrapping my arms around him. “I’m telling you that unless you want your ass kicked, you will do it again.”
His eyebrows jumped. His hand snaked into my hair. “Now, that’s awfully mouthy of you.” The gentle, playful Darren slowly transformed back into the dominant, commanding Darren. His fingers closed around my hair. Through his teeth, he said, “What did I tell you about making demands?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Refresh my memory.”
His fist tightened in my hair, taking my breath away. “Rest assured,” he snarled into my ear. “You won’t forget this time.”
Twenty Eight
Somewhere in the middle of the night, I gently freed myself from Darren’s arms and got up to get a drink. I found my T-shirt and panties in the darkness and slipped out of the room, careful not to wake him up. It seemed a bit strange to feel the need to cover myself in a house occupied only by men with whom I frequently had sex, but wandering around naked seemed even stranger. Modesty won, regardless
of the irony of the situation.
The apartment was dark and silent, so I assumed that Eric was either still at work or asleep. As I turned the corner into the kitchen, though, the telltale wisp of smoke wafted in front of the sliding glass door. He was home, and he was awake.
I couldn’t make out his face; the bright city lights backlit him, so his profile was only visible in silhouette. He lifted the cigarette to his mouth and its end glowed orange as he took a drag. I thought of his lips around the end of the cigarette, of the things his lips were capable of on my body, and shivered.
I turned on the faucet and his head turned. He turned away again and the cigarette glowed. I thought for a moment that he was going to stay out there, but a second later, the cigarette fell to the patio and he rose, pausing to crush it under his heel. My heart thundered as the sliding glass door hissed open, then closed behind him.
The silent darkness of the kitchen came alive with his presence. The air between us was electrified and goose bumps prickled my skin. The faint smell of cigarette smoke met my nose and reminded me of the taste of his kiss. My mouth watered and I licked my lips behind my glass.
Each muffled step he took echoed through my consciousness as he moved closer. He came around the island in the kitchen and there was nothing between us but empty space. We stared at each other in silence, in the darkness. I swallowed hard. Although I could barely see his face, the intensity of his presence was palpable. I shivered. It had been a solid week since we’d fucked, far too long since I’d felt his touch. Even though Darren had satisfied me several times over earlier that evening, I suddenly wanted Eric like never before.
We came together in a deep, ravenous kiss. As soon as I was in his arms, there was no question who was in control this time. He grasped my hair and leaned me against the counter, pressing his body—and rock hard cock—against me.
His tongue parted my lips and his hand parted my thighs. I barely suppressed a moan against his lips as he moved my panties aside and easily slipped two fingers into my pussy. The heel of his hand pressed against my clit and only his mouth over mine kept me from crying out.
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