Her breath caught, but she forced herself to keep breathing. The comfort of his touch caused her lids to lower, shutting her eyes. She knew he was familiarizing himself with her body, as well as her with his touch, grounding he’d called it. Connecting the two of them, so that she would know him.
But his caress didn’t feel strange to her. Somewhere deep inside herself it was as if she knew him on some intimate level. The notion, in itself was odd to her, because she didn’t know this man or Dom whom she’d allowed access to her body. Yet, and still, the delicate bond existed.
“Inhale,” came his command.
Taking a deep breath, her chest expanded and pressed into the bench below.
His hand was removed.
“Exhale,” he ordered.
She allowed the air to come out slowly from her parted lips.
Smack.
The strike hard against her ass caught her off guard. Her mouth and eyes both popped open simultaneously as she gasped.
“Inhale.” His voice was now louder, deeper, boding no room for anything but compliance.
She followed his instruction.
His hand left her again.
Even knowing what was to come, she exhaled on his next command.
Smack.
Without stopping the exhale, she forced the warm air out as her ass stung.
Over and over, he led her through the paces of the scene, becoming the captain of her body as well as over the primary function of her life, the act of breathing.
She didn’t inhale unless he told her to and she didn’t exhale until he allowed her. Dom Hawk and his actions became her world, her very existence and he blocked out everything else she would have believed mattered.
With each release he struck, laying his palm firmly against her bare ass. She was unable to determine which cheek he would hit, because he would wail on one for several swats then switch unexpectedly to the other. Then return to the first tender side.
Her ass was on fire and sore. However, as she focused on the lower part of her body, she became fully aware of something else. She was aroused.
There was no two ways about it. Each throb of her inflamed backside was answered by a pulsing in her clit. She didn’t know whether to scream or moan. It shocked her how the sensation of pain was becoming muddled with a desire so intense, she felt conflicted in her core.
The fact that she could be so turned on in such a situation confounded her. Am I sick? Twisted? Depraved?
Even as questions rolled unrestrained around in her mind, her body took what Masaun gave her physically. Shock waves of pain zipped through her from the point of contact making her cry out. At the same time, the smarting of her cheeks resonated in her pussy and a moan dragged along the tail end of her scream.
Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore and the words Red Hots were resting on the tip of her tongue prepared for her to scream it, it ended. She laid on the bench, her body trembling inside and out, not knowing if he was simply taking a break or what. At the moment, she didn’t care, she just lowered her head, pressed her forehead to the cushion and breathed.
Then she became aware of Masaun’s ragged breath shuddering in the same pattern as her own. Of course, it had been just as physically exerting to him. She wondered if his hand throbbed as intensely as her ass.
Even with the ache in her backside, there was a calm and peace to her mind and heart that made her feel delirious, inebriated, as if she’d consumed too much wine—she was spinning.
Her heart skipped a beat as she jumped at the feel of Masaun’s featherlike touch on her inflamed ass. She hissed as he ran his hands over both her cheeks at the same time.
“Part your thighs for me, Kindle.”
What? The single word exploded in her mind like a bullet. If she widened her kneeling position on the bench, she had no doubt that he would see her arousal. She could feel the wetness that had seeped from her pussy to smear between the inside of her thighs.
“Will I have to ask again?” The command in his words was clear.
“No, Sir,” she panted, still winded and befuddled. The sweat that dripped from the bend of her knees made the leather padding slick and allowed her to glide easily out to comply with his demand.
There she sat, her ass raised, thighs wide and her wet sex displayed.
“There is no shame in the arousal that comes with the pain sensations.” The husky timbre of his voice excited her more.
She bit down on the inside of her bottom lip, stifling the whimper of need. She should have felt more embarrassed by her response but she didn’t have the energy to drum it up, nor did she want to. However, she did desire something else. A need so carnal and dark, it caused a shudder to race through her body. Masaun’s touch.
Not the gentle pressure of his hands, still resting on her stinging ass, but lower.
She squeezed the bar tighter and focused on the ache of her rear end. That’s why she was there, to lose herself in the pain, not for recreational pleasure.
No sex in a scene, he’d said.
That reminder almost made her groan.
Then his touch was there; right where she wanted it on her clit. His caress started out light but quickly became firmer, more concentrated. He circled her but didn’t touch her anywhere else.
Her pussy ached to feel the thickness of his fingers pushing inside of her. More cream seeped out making his glide slicker.
“Ohh,” she cried, her body starting to tighten as vibrations of her impending orgasm quivered in her core.
“You want to come, Kindle?”
“Yes, Sir, yes, Sir, yes, Sir…” She couldn’t stop herself as the obedient response tumbled uncontrolled from her lips. The edge of pleasure was too close, and out of reach at the same time. She needed something more.
“Should I let you come?”
Let me come. Would he be cruel enough to take her to the precipice then leave her dangling there, aching and unsatisfied? She’d taken care of herself routinely since meeting him, and as good as that act was, it was nothing compared to the seductive touch of a man’s sure hand.
“Please, Sir.”
Then it happened. Masaun scissored her clit between his strong fingers, giving her the pressure along the side where she needed it. She wailed and moaned as the avalanche of completion buried her under its weight. She bucked against the bench and thrust back along his hand until the erotic waves finally subsided.
“Beautiful, my Song Sparrow.” Then his touch was gone.
Her head too heavy, her body humming and her mind muddled by the confounding events of the evening, she lowered her hips once again to the bench, her breathing even more ragged than before.
She felt Masaun’s presence as he stepped up beside her. His hands settled on hers for a moment; they were searing hot, then they began to gently remove her fingers from the bar. Her grip had been so tight that she whimpered when he lifted her hand away.
“Shh,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Facing him now, she noticed that he was shirtless. She didn’t know when he’d taken it off, but she was too drained to do more than give it a passing glance, seeing the sheen of sweat coating his skin.
Just as gingerly, he aided her in rising from the bench and guided her one unhurried step at a time to a couch in the corner. She didn’t even have the energy or mental fortitude to try and determine what would happen next.
Once they were there, he picked up a blanket from the arm and wrapped it around her.
A sigh came out as the mink fabric caressed her tender backside. Masaun sat down first on the couch then dragged her down onto his lap. Without objection, she curled her wrapped body up against his broad chest and absorbed the strength in his embrace. She tucked her head beneath his chin and buried her nose along his neck.
The moist coating on his skin didn’t bother her at all. It just made the scent of him more intense. She could smell him now. No more subtle candy aroma like he’d carried the first time she
met him or the salty scent of the sea when he kissed her—it was his real scent.
Robust, sweet and peppery—like something exotic, spicy.
It was his smell and the gentle stroking of his hand over the blanket that settled her mind and comforted her. Her breathing began to regulate and the sting of her cheeks didn’t go away, but felt less intense.
They both sat silently and he rubbed her through the mink blanket from shoulder to thighs along her side. She wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, neither did she care. Time held no relevance or importance to her at the moment.
Now that the intensity of the ache in her ass was subsiding to a mid-grade throbbing, her desire was elevating, becoming paramount. Seeming no longer satisfied with the orgasm. The need to feel Masaun inside of her had her shaking.
“It’s okay, Song Sparrow.” He continued to stroke her body, pulling her tighter against him.
Song Sparrow. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the name he’d apparently chosen for her. At the same time, it warmed her heart knowing that it was something that would represent what they shared privately between them. In some way it made her his. A thought that should have had her leaping up and running, at least limping to the nearest exit, but it didn’t. She just settled deeper in his embrace.
In her position in his lap she could tell that she was not the only one affected by the session. Below her hip, she could not misinterpret the impression of Masaun’s hard, thick cock.
But the man must have more self-control than she did, because he didn’t act on it. No sex. Originally when he’d told her that he never had sex with a woman during a scene, she had been relieved knowing that he was going to be focused on helping her alleviate the mental prison of her job. Now it seemed like a harsher punishment than the discipline he’d just executed on her ass.
Curling his finger below her chin, he tilted her head up. His pale laurel-colored eyes assessed hers. “How are you feeling?”
Horny. Swallowing, she said, “My ass hurts, Sir.”
He smiled, lighting up his eyes. “I’m sure. Tomorrow it will be a nice reminder to keep yourself calm, separated emotionally from your case.”
Every time I sit down.
“I guess it’s time for you to head home. You have a full day in court tomorrow.”
She knew he was right, yet she had no desire to rush off and leave the warmth of the blanket and the strength and security of his arms. It was that thought that had her struggling to her feet. She had been raised to be an independent woman. Not needing anyone to support her financially, physically and definitely not emotionally.
And she’d be damned if she was going to beg a man to have sex with her.
Masaun rose with her and removed the blanket from around her. He laid it over the arm of the chair then escorted her out of the room.
As she walked, there were multiple twinges in her backside, but she didn’t care, it was time for her to go.
Back in the vestibule, she redressed in her accessories and her coat.
“I like taking care of my sub.” Masaun brushed her hands away when she started on her buttons.
She wanted to tell him she could take care of it herself, but she wasn’t sure if still being in his house constituted them being in play time. So she remained quiet, even his nearness and the touch of his hands through the garment causing the desire just under the surface to build. When the backs of his knuckles grazed her nipples as he closed the fastenings at her chest, she bit back a moan.
Trying to get through the moment, she closed her eyes. She didn’t miss the moment he folded in the ends of her scarf beneath the lapels of her coat, his hand brushing along her bare skin. A whimper escaped her lips.
Her lids popped up as she gazed at him, wondering if he heard her. His eyes, now a deep green over grey, were trained on hers. Neither of them moved. The intensity grew between them.
She wanted him to kiss her in that same maddening way he had done in the parking lot of the restaurant.
But he didn’t. Instead, he dropped his hands from her coat and stepped back.
Shit! What would it take for this man to give in to the desire she knew he was feeling?
“Are you going to be okay to drive home?” he asked.
“Yes.” Turning, she grabbed the door, needing to get away. Glancing briefly over her shoulder she gave him a hasty “Thank you.”
She didn’t hear if he replied as she rushed over the porch and down the steps. With her chin raised, she controlled each step she took, not wanting him to see how affected she was by his steel-clad control.
His rejection of her.
CHAPTER seven
Watching her crisp, sure steps along the cement path that led to his driveway, his heart beat a fierce tempo to the rhythm of her walk. A confident sashay, accompanied by the swinging of her enticing hips that took her further away from him, pushed him to act. Squeezing the doorframe, he restrained himself. He needed to prove to himself he had self-control and show Kindle he didn’t react on the whim of his needs.
But every step she took, it grew harder. Maybe if he hadn’t seen the trust in her eyes. Maybe if he hadn’t heard her breathy moans at the tail end of her screams when he spanked her, like his own unique Song Sparrow. Maybe if he hadn’t seen her cream coating her thighs, evidence that her pleasure/pain receptors were aligned within her, filling the air with the scent of her desire. She was a walking fucking dream to him.
Even his ex, who enjoyed high levels of pain, never became as aroused as Kindle in a scene.
He wanted to keep whatever was happening between them sexually separate from the BDSM services he provided for her. She wasn’t his true submissive, even though he’d given her a scene name. Without a real date, and candlelight, pretty words and a conversation about superficial things, he had no right to want to bury his cock balls deep in her pussy. But he did.
Sure as shit he did.
Maybe if he hadn’t felt her come against his hand, his cock wouldn’t be so hard and he’d be able to resist. But he had. And he couldn’t.
“Kindle.”
If he wasn’t so aroused, it may have been slightly comical to see how her feet practically skidded on the last stone of the sidewalk where it met his driveway.
Her body is already training itself to the command of my voice. Like a Song Sparrow that recognized her mate. He needed to consider giving her another name, she wasn’t his.
“Yes, Sir?” She turned, facing him now.
With the darkness and the streetlamps battling for dominance, her features were obscured, he couldn’t read her. Maybe she had been relieved to get out of his house, away from him.
“Come here.”
There was no hesitation in her strides as she crossed the distance back to him. He stood silent as she took the steps up, then the heels of her boots were clicking against the floor of his porch.
“Did you want something, Sir?” she asked, now standing before him.
Beneath the porch light and with the interior lights illuminating her features, he could see the expectation reflected in her russet-brown eyes. Eyes filled with a desire that matched his, making them appear as dark as bittersweet chocolate. That wasn’t a shock to him, he’d recognized that look in her gaze as he’d held her and the whole time he helped her dress to leave.
“Yes. You.” Taking hold of her arms, he dragged her over the threshold and into his arms.
He swallowed her moans and sighs as he kissed her. Deep, hard and fast he took pleasure from her mouth and she claimed it from him.
She wasn’t submissive in the kiss; just as she hadn’t been when they kissed the first time. Kindle ignited with passion like a flint to dry timber.
By the time he was able to pull his mouth from hers, her hands were gripping his shoulders, holding him against her.
His breath came out in a rush as he stared down at the wondrous woman in his arms.
“I want you, Kindle.” He paused a moment and allowed his words to sink
in. “If you have any qualms about me fucking you, this is your chance to take your sweet ass to your car.”
“I don’t want to leave, Sir.” Her words came out breathless, but clear.
Holding her tightly around the waist with one arm, he sidestepped them then slammed his front door shut.
“Masaun. My name is Masaun.” He took a step forward and pressed her back to the door of the closet. “Say it.”
There was only a moment of confusion in her eyes before she said it. “Masaun.”
He kissed her as his hands blindly worked the buttons and tie of her coat. Pulling his lips away, he commanded, “Say it again.”
Her beautiful body was revealed to him once again. Those mahogany-tipped nipples at the peak of her full breasts—enough to fill his hands, but not spill over. She had a narrow waist, flared hips that sent his imagination into overdrive and long, willowy legs. Her sex was smooth and hairless, save for a small triangle at the top. He considered taking her up to his room and spending hours tasting her, gliding his tongue around every inch of it and discovering every one of her sensitive spots. But, not tonight—the urgency to be inside of her eclipsed even that desire.
“Masaun.” Her voice brought his gaze back to her eyes as her hands slid down along his bare chest toward his pants.
The sound of his name on her lips was feeding the tornado of need in his gut, ready to overtake him, them. It was that fierce, all-consuming desire that had him at this point of urgency to have her. No time to delay, or find a more appropriate place for the first time he fucked her. It was here and now.
Kindle seemed to be motivated by a similar beast as the two of them worked his belt and pants to release his straining cock. She reached for it, but he grabbed her hand and pulled it away.
Already on edge, if he allowed her to touch him it just might be his undoing.
Slipping his hands into her coat, he cupped her ass, feeling the warmth of her worked flesh.
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