by Skylar Kade
Lara turned in his arms to face him, catching Jaxon run one oh-so-capable hand through his coal-black hair, making it charmingly messy.
“I don’t care if this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. Whatever this is, I like it.”
He shook his head, a smile teasing the corners of his lips, before leaning in and kissing her chin then sweeping his mouth up to her ear to nibble on the lobe. She shivered, her nerve endings still charged from her earlier orgasm. Jax pulled away, muttering, “Make my life difficult, why don’t you.”
“Sir?” She ran a hand across his thigh in what she hoped was a soothing gesture.
“Don’t worry, Kitten. Just…” A pained look crossed his face, and Lara didn’t press for him to finish. A moment later, the expression was wiped away, replaced by a wry grin. “Typical training or not, the rules still apply. They are essential in every aspect of this lifestyle. Kitten, lie here and decompress for a few minutes. I’ll come get you when I’m ready.”
She immediately missed his warmth when he rose up off the bed. Tuning out the sounds of Jax puttering around in the main room, Lara replayed the scene in her head. There was a part of her that was shocked she wasn’t mortified by her behavior. She had never touched herself in front of another person before. And she had never come without physical stimulation.
Her sexual encounters had all been fairly impersonal, and none of her lovers had ever shown her the passion she saw in Jax during their short time together. Lara guessed it made sense, considering the men she dated were scientists who treated sex as if it were something clinical and formulaic. Unlike them, Jax had touched her reverently, as if she were a much longed-for gift he finally got to unwrap and use. Like her fantasy lover always did.
She’d had no idea how powerful her submissive feelings could be. Problem was, Lara suspected they were only for Jax. And he would only be hers until Sunday night.
Her thoughts soured. Giving up control wasn’t the evil she had always thought. It was something she wanted to explore further, and she didn’t like having a limit on her time in which to do it.
Chapter Seven
The door to the bedroom creaked open, and Jax’s robed silhouette filled the gap. He walked into the dimmed room, hands filled with things she couldn’t quite identify. “Kneel.”
She jumped out of the bed to do his bidding, enjoying the flutter low in her stomach triggered by his commands. Settling into position, Lara marveled at how natural the formerly embarrassing pose was starting to feel. Damn, she liked this view. Tantalizing glimpses of his broad chest and muscled thighs teased her, peeking out from behind the navy cotton robe he wore. She hoped he wouldn’t be wearing it for long.
The bundle in his arms was set on top of the bed, out of her line of sight. “Lara, for the duration of the weekend, you will wear signs of my possession. They shall be removed when you shower, but for the weekend, that is the only time you will not be required to wear them.”
He lifted two cuffs from the bed. Once in her line of sight, she saw they were black leather with a silk lining.
“Kiss them, Kitten, to show your acceptance of them.” Her lips touched the cool leather. “Hands, please.”
She obligingly raised her arms to accept the cuffs. He buckled them on, and her wrists were encased. With their added weight came a further sense of calm. Lara was reassured that they had no locks, in case she needed to get out of them quickly.
“Are they too loose or too tight?”
“Neither, Sir. They feel…right.” Flashing him a quick smile, she was rewarded with an answering one of his own. Lara couldn’t remember the last time she had smiled as much as she did with Jaxon.
Grabbing a handful of her hair, he gave a quick tug upward. “Stand, Kitten.” Prickles broke out across her scalp, shooting sparks to her already damp pussy. As soon as the first cuff had gone on, she’d wanted him again. Not to mention the unexpected thrill she got from being called Kitten.
Never before had that happened to Lara, wanting more than one round in a night. Probably because the sex was always…terrible. Now she had a new frame of reference—and they hadn’t even had sex yet—and she could see why Samantha had always yakked Lara’s ear off about her sexual encounters as a submissive. She guessed there was something about having a strong, guiding hand outside of her work hours, having someone else to shoulder some of the burdens of everyday life.
Jax took her hand and led her back into bed, pulled the covers over them and arranged Lara to nestle into the crook of his shoulder. It was like she was made for him, the way her body molded to his perfectly.
He treated her differently than she imagined it was possible for a Dom to treat a submissive. For some reason, she had never equated BDSM with tenderness. She had thought it was all rough sex and power games and pain. This…softness, it disarmed her. She had no defenses against Jaxon’s seductive blend of dominance and pure sensuality. Not being able to predict what was coming next kept her on her toes and threw her off balance.
“Let’s talk about your first experience with me.” He stroked her hair softly, encouraging her to snuggle in against his hard chest. She nuzzled away the offending cotton separating her from his skin, finally satisfied when she could rest her cheek against his chest.
“Did you like me pulling your hair?” His lips rested against her forehead as he spoke.
She whimpered, remembering how good it felt. “Yes, Sir.” The title flowed from her lips without conscious thought.
“Did it turn you on when I bit your neck?” Soft lips trailed down the side of her face to rest next to her ear.
“Yes, Sir,” Lara panted, excited by his words.
“But the biting alone didn’t make you come, did it?” Strong teeth bit into her exposed earlobe, and she shuddered in delight.
“No, Sir.” He wasn’t going to make her admit it, was he?
“What sent you over the edge, Kitten?” Oh, yes he was. If his roaming lips were any indication, he was going to torture the confession out of her.
The hand innocently lying across her waist now crept upwards until it cupped her breast. He thumbed her already achingly hard nipples.
She shook her head, not wanting to admit how wanton she had been. Jax had managed to summon that part of her in a true show of domination. After all, how could he have gotten her to do such…naughty things…if she didn’t really want to? She had never masturbated for an audience, but it was more than that. Her orgasm hadn’t been triggered by her ministrations as much as by his command—and her willingness to accede to his wishes was intimidating. Lara was not ready to accept her desire to obey, her submissiveness, still partially convinced it was a sign of weakness.
Deft fingers went from caressing her nipple to pinching it. Sparks shot from her breast down to her pussy, making her wetter than she already was. Jaxon was keeping her in a perpetual state of arousal.
“Lara, remember I require honesty from you. I know this may be hard to admit. I even know what you’re going to say—it’s written all over your delightful face. But you must say the words. This is the last time I will ask. What sent you into orgasm?”
Lara knew that, with any more disobedience, he would punish her. The thread of steel in his tone brooked no argument. If she told him, she would have to reevaluate everything she believed about herself. If she didn’t, she would disappoint him, something she could not stand to do.
Tears began to form in the corner of her eyes, and this time the shivers wracking her body were not from pleasure.
“Oh God… It was because you told me to! Because I was obeying you, and you told me to come, and you control me! Dammit!” Her tears had turned into sobs. There went her touted independence. She was acting the part of a weak girl who needed a man to complete her. The trophy woman her parents expected her to become, instead of the renowned chemist into which she had grown. Curling up into herself, she halfheartedly tried to escape Jaxon’s arms, to no avail.
One hand still threading in her hair,
the other rubbing soothing circles across her back, Jaxon leaned in to kiss the tears from her chin, her cheeks, her eyes. He captured her lips, sharing in the taste of her agony, and feeding it back to her.
But instead of tasting of ash, of the death of the Lara she thought she knew, it tasted of clean spring rains, of opportunity, of rebirth.
Jax hadn’t realized how much Lara mentally protested her submissiveness, but now he understood. He kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. Lara was an incredibly strong woman, self-made and independent to boot. From the gossip he’d heard in the few months he’d been at Waterman, she was not only respected by the other professors and the students, but was nationally known for her research.
Over the years, Jaxon had learned that there were generally two types of submissive women—those who always wanted to be under the auspices of another, and those who needed the submission as an escape from the outside world, where they were always in control. Lara was obviously of the latter group. Jax’s only excuse for overlooking it was the extent to which she distracted him. And it was a piss-poor excuse.
Holding her, trying to soothe away her sobs, her turmoil tore at his heart. This was his fault, dammit. He shouldn’t have pushed, should have realized she wasn’t ready to face her submissive nature head on yet.
While he berated himself for his mistakes, a small, cool hand cupped the side of his face.
“What, Sir, never had a submissive break down in your lap?” she murmured, already half asleep from post-crying exhaustion. Sighing, she burrowed farther under his robe, seeming to revel in the skin-to-skin contact. And even if she didn’t need it, he did.
Maneuvering around her settled form to shed his robe was not easy, but worth the effort. Finally blissfully naked, he shifted on the mattress to spoon her, his front pressed against her back. Her body warmed the cold places in his soul, and he figured whatever this emotion was, he was okay with it.
Chapter Eight
Jaxon woke to the sweetest smell. It reminded him of home—and not the empty-feeling house he had occupied in the Hollywood Hills for the past few years. Vanilla wafted to his nose, making him hunger for the softness and sweetness a good woman could bring. The sugary scent was tempered by spicy cinnamon, giving all the sweetness a sassy edge.
Upon opening his eyes, he was treated to the beautiful sight of Lara Brunner wrapped in his arms. Their bodies were intertwined, his arms wrapped around her, their legs a tangle of limbs, and all of it was sinful, naked, bare skin.
“Good morning, Sir,” she whispered, her voice husky with the vestiges of sleep and muffled by his chest.
“Morning, Kitten,” he rumbled, bestowing a kiss upon her forehead. “Didn’t do much training last night, huh. I hope you’re not disappointed.”
With an impish grin, she said, “I’m not disappointed in the least. Gorgeous man? Explosive orgasm? Deep revelations? What’s not to love? I hope I didn’t let you down with my crying. I’m sure I ruined your plans.”
Lara seemed content. Jax hoped it was the result of her imminently logical brain coming to terms with her true personality.
Lifting his hand to caress her baby-soft cheek, he set her straight. “Life is what happens when we’re making plans. I wouldn’t have changed last night for anything. Although we better get up and eat a solid breakfast. We’ve got some catching up to do today.” He grinned at her, thrilled by the possibilities the weekend held. “But first, I think you need to properly say good morning.”
Her eyes flashed with interest as she slithered down the bed towards his morning wood. He was right in thinking her sexual awakening would be a glorious thing to behold. Jax could see the change in her from last night, and was incredibly aroused by the new fire in her eyes. Right now, her eyes were locked onto the almost painful erection he’d gotten as soon as he woke up.
“See something you like?”
“Yes,” she purred, briefly looking away from his cock to meet his gaze. “Please, Sir, may I?”
“Tell me what you would like, Kitten.” He reached a hand out to grab a handful of her hair. Pulling at the strands brought a hazy look to Lara’s eyes. Yes, his kitten loved the edge of pain. He was too caught up in the building desire to notice his mind had already claimed her as his.
A rosy sliver of tongue darted out to wet her lush bottom lip. “I want to touch you, Sir.” He gave a little yank on her hair, making her gasp.
“Tell me more.” Jax knew she would soon learn to thoroughly vocalize her desires, but until then, he would continue to prompt her.
“Sir, I want to taste you. No, I need to taste you. Have you fill my mouth, and swallow down every drop of your come.” Even he was surprised at the explicitness of her description. His Lara was learning quickly, shedding her inhibitions like a butterfly rising from a chrysalis. And there was only the slightest hint of a blush turning her cheeks and collarbone the most delicate of pinks.
Taking himself in hand, he guided his cock to her waiting mouth. “For now, use only your tongue.” She made a little grunt of disappointment, but practically lunged at his waiting flesh.
Lapping at the flushed head, Lara swiped her tongue across his slit, tasting him for the first time. The flavor exploded on her taste buds, salty and tangy and musky. More than anything, she wanted to make him come, to give him even a fraction of the pleasure she’d felt last night.
Heeding his command, Lara tried to cover every inch of his flesh with her tongue. She licked a wet trail from the base to the very tip, as if he were the most delicious ice cream. Tracing the ridge around his crown, she stopped to flutter her tongue across the sensitive skin.
He moaned, spurring her on. Exploring his length, she licked back downwards towards his balls, the taut skin too much temptation for her. Jax spread his thighs farther apart and pulled her closer towards him by her hair. God, she loved that, having him control her. There was no room for self-doubt. It was obvious she was pleasuring him; she could simply give herself over to the act. She buried her nose in his crisp, trimmed pubic hairs, absorbing the smell belonging to Jaxon Greene.
“Use your whole mouth now.” Lara could tell by his voice that he was keeping a tight leash on his control. Finally granted the permission she had been aching for, she took one of his balls into her mouth.
“Ah, harder.” At his command, she pulled a little more strongly, flicking her tongue over the skin filling her mouth. She sucked and tongued his other testicle, delighting in the goosebumps she could see rising on his thighs. Briefly glancing up, she drank in the sight of Jax on the edge, head thrown back in rapture and fingers digging into the corner of the mattress.
She had tortured him enough. Her mouth slipped over the head of his dick, sucking up every drop of precome gathering there. Her teeth accidentally grazed across his crown, and she tensed, waiting for him to yell at her carelessness. Instead, he flexed his fingers in her hair and started thrusting his hips into her mouth.
“Oh, Kitten, I’m gonna come! Swallow me, every drop.”
Pulsations danced along her tongue before he exploded into her mouth. She savored every swallow, gently sucking on his skin until he began to soften. Cleaning him with delicate swipes of her tongue, Lara finished and laid her head upon his thigh. She gave herself an invisible little pat on the back for not only having followed his directions, but for pleasing him.
The fingers in her hair tilted her head up towards him. He wore a dazed expression, and Lara took it as a job well done. No pun intended, she cackled silently.
Deciding it would be more efficient to take separate showers, Lara abandoned Jaxon’s supine form in favor of the double shower-headed bathroom. She padded across the plush carpet, practically ignoring her nudity. It was something about the cabin, or maybe the connection she felt to Jaxon, that left her less body-conscious than she had been since childhood. Stepping into the shower, Lara marveled at the change she felt in herself. Maybe Samantha was onto something big with this whole weekend reevaluation.
Her life had always been a series of achievement stepping stones—excelling in high school to get into an Ivy League college, where she four-pointed her classes to get into the top graduate school for organic chemistry, where she did the most rigorous and advanced research to be selected for the most elite post-baccalaureate programs in order to get a job at a top university as one of their youngest professors.
Looking back on it all, Lara realized keeping her nose to the grindstone for most of her life had been a mixed blessing. She was one of the foremost experts in her field, and as a consequence, she’d had little life outside of her books and the laboratory. She had never let go of her self-control, except for getting her heart tattoo in Cabo, of course. She understood now it felt frighteningly good to hand the reins over to someone else for a bit.
It was like she had spent the past decade cramming herself into the tiny box labeled Organic Chemist, but she didn’t quite fit in it. Now the proverbial box had been opened, thanks to Samantha and Jaxon, and she didn’t know how she would squash herself back into it come Monday morning. She did, after all, have a real life to return to, one in which dating another faculty member could jeopardize her upcoming tenure review.
But after the conversation she’d had with Sam over lunch, she’d been thinking less and less about it, the thoughts replaced by the what if? of Taylor Pharm. But Lara had no use for what ifs. They were unrealistic, unquantifiable, and it still stung to think of the times her parents had laughed at her childhood what ifs.
Determined to ignore those thoughts, she spent a few more minutes luxuriating under the warm, powerful spray before shutting off the water and reaching for an ultra-plush white fluffy bath sheet. Groping for the towels she had left on the rack outside of the shower stall, she let out a disgustingly girly squeak when her hand connected with flesh instead of cotton.
Jax’s hand tugged on hers, pulling her out of the shower. “Let me dry you off, Kitten.”