“Kristen.”
I was vaguely aware of the sound of my name, of the implicit demand for acknowledgment, but his hand, his fingers, my clit—
“Kristen.”
I licked my lips, struggling to stay in the present, struggling to keep from coming.
“Kristen.”
I managed a breathless whimper of, “Yes, Sir?”
“Come.”
Chapter 6
The last shockwaves of my orgasm dissipated into the ether. With a long sigh, my body relaxed, my arched back sinking down to the bed as my fingers loosened their vise grip on Scott’s shoulder. I had no idea when I’d grabbed him, had no recollection of ever reaching for him.
My other hand was still under his, still pressed against my clit as his fingers withdrew slowly. When his lifted off mine, I took my fingers off my clit, and I could finally breathe.
Scott gently grasped my wrist and took my other hand off his shoulder. “I may have to tie your hands next time.” His tone was stern, but there was just enough humor around the edges to let me know my misstep hadn’t been severe.
“Sorry, Sir,” I slurred.
He kissed me. “I’ll let it go this time. Just don’t let it happen again.”
“I won’t, Sir.”
He pushed the blindfold up and I lifted my head so he could tug it free. I blinked a few times until my vision came back into focus.
“Aside from that, you did well tonight.” He kissed my forehead. “You’re learning quickly.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“I’m not your Master anymore tonight,” he whispered. “Just Scott now.” He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on one arm. Then he glanced at the window. “You like having that shade open, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t bother me,” I said with a casual shrug.
“Doesn’t bother you if someone sees us?” He raised an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a subtle smirk.
If the heat in my cheeks was any indication, there was no point in trying to convince him it was just an innocent oversight. “Not at all.”
“So you’re a bit of an exhibitionist, then.” He trailed his fingers up my arm. “My kind of woman.”
“I guess I am.” I laughed. “I didn’t even know I was until a few weeks ago.”
“Is that so?”
I nodded and gestured at the window. “My neighbor and I, we… we caught each other’s eye one night while I was getting undressed. And after I got over being embarrassed about it, I realized it turned me on. So I opened the shade again.”
“So now he watches you? When you’re with someone?”
“And when I’m alone, sometimes.”
Scott glanced at the window, then chuckled when he looked at me again. “That lucky, lucky bastard.”
I laughed. “What are you talking about? He only gets to watch. You get to do quite a bit more than that.”
“Good point.” He kissed me lightly. “Anyway, like I said, you did well tonight.”
“Well, we’ll see what happens when you start beating me.”
He chuckled. “You’d be surprised. You might just like that.”
“I don’t know. Still not sure if pain is my thing.”
“You might like it, you might not.” He smoothed my hair. “This isn’t one hundred percent about pain, anyway. It’s just pushing your limits with stimulation, fucking with your senses. I talk about pain sluts, I really mean subs—and even Doms—who like having their senses overwhelmed, be it with pain or anything else.” He paused. “I mean, Amy is really and truly a pain slut. That woman loves pain. But sometimes it’s a misnomer. It usually refers to someone who is a stimulus junkie.”
“But Amy likes pain?”
“More than anything. Which works out perfectly, since her husband doesn’t particularly like inflicting pain, and I’m a bit of a sadist.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Oh, please. You don’t even know the half of it yet.”
“I’m sure you’ll enlighten me sooner or later,” I said. “So, what else is there?”
“Sky’s the limit. I know one Domme who has an extremely ticklish sub. She can torture him for hours with a feather the way I can beat Amy with a cane, and with similar results. It’s just about teasing the senses. Some people like to play with hot and cold, too.” He shuddered. “Cold is probably my Achilles’ heel.”
“How so?”
“Because it’s fucking cold!” He laughed. “Okay, seriously, it’s kind of like pain play. It’s an intense sensation, one that would be unpleasant under other circumstances. It’s incredible, it’s a turn-on, but make no mistake: it still hurts. You don’t get to play with endorphins without experiencing some pain. And cold is kind of the same. It’s erotic and torture at the same time.”
“Okay, so what about heat?”
“Heat can be fun. I’m admittedly a little iffy about playing with candle wax,” he said. “If a sub really wants me to, I will, but it makes me nervous. It’s just so easy to burn someone. If something’s going to go wrong, it can happen so, so quickly.”
“Have you ever known a sub who was burned playing with wax?”
“Yes, I have.” He ran his fingers through his hair and I thought he might have shuddered again. “Really, it’s easy to keep the temperature controlled enough to prevent injury. Intellectually, I know I’m not going to hurt her, but it’s still something that makes me nervous. If a sub trusts me enough to do it, I’m not going to say no to her as long as she knows the risks. Tara likes it from time to time. Amy does too, but I’m really hesitant to do it with her.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because she likes pain. A lot. Rational or not, I—” He paused. “You’re cold. Stand up for a second.”
I got up, and Scott pulled the covers back. Then he gestured for me to lie down again, and when I did, he put the covers over me. Now that I was under them, I had to admit he was right: I had been getting cold.
“Better?” he asked.
“Much. Thank you.”
He smiled. “Anyway, like I was saying, Amy likes pain, but I have to be careful nothing crosses the line into actual injury before it hurts her enough tell me to stop. Sometimes she gets so far into subspace, I—”
“Subspace?”
He nodded. “The endorphins take over and a sub will almost go into a trance. She’ll pretty much be unaware of anything except what I’m doing to her.”
“So, that’s a bad thing?”
“No, no, not at all,” he said. “But it means I have to be extra careful to keep an eye on her and make sure I don’t hurt her. With a flogger, I can control how hard I’m hitting her, and I won’t let it get out of hand.” He absently smoothed a wrinkle in the blanket with his fingertip. “With something like candle wax or any other heat play, if I were to burn her, she might not respond until it’s gone from a mild sting to a more serious burn. And even though I can keep the temperature well below any level that would cause a problem, I’m not comfortable with it. Amy gets so far into subspace, there are times I could probably saw off a limb and she wouldn’t protest.”
I laughed. “Wow, she really does like pain, doesn’t she?”
He smiled. “God, yes. More than any other sub I’ve ever had.” His smile faded a little, and he worried at another wrinkle in the comforter. “Which just, as I said, means I have to be careful so I don’t really hurt her.”
“Have you ever injured one of your subs?”
“No, fortunately.” He turned onto his stomach and pushed himself up on his forearms. “Not seriously, anyway. I’ve bruised a few, broken skin with a flogger, that sort of thing. But I’ve never scarred someone or anything like that.”
“That’s good to know.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?”
“No. Well, not that you’d be careless or anything, but I admit, some of the ‘pain play’ as you call it makes me a bit
nervous.”
“Understandable. But I promise you, when we get to that point, I’m always very, very careful with pain. With any sensation play, actually. It’s easy to overwhelm someone with any intense sensation, whether it’s pain or not. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I want to over stimulate or upset you to the point you won’t let me near you.”
I smiled. “I don’t see that happening any time soon.”
“I’ll do everything in my power to keep it from happening, believe me.” He winked. “After all, I want you to let me near you again.”
“I doubt that’ll be a problem.”
“Good.” He paused. “Actually, I was thinking, we could try a little pain play one of these nights. If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”
I swallowed. The thought both excited and unnerved me. “What exactly did you have in mind?”
“Maybe a flogger?”
I chewed my lip. “How much does something like that hurt?”
Scott grinned. “As much as I want it to.”
“Oh, that’s encouraging.”
He chuckled. “Actually, that’s the God’s honest truth. It depends on the material and construct of the flogger, but it also depends on who’s flogging you. I can do it so lightly it feels like your hair falling on your back, or I can do it hard enough to draw blood.”
“I’ll pass on the drawing blood, thank you.”
“Most people do, early on.” He shifted onto one elbow and, with his free hand, trailed his fingertips down my arm. “But you never know until you try it. You might like just a little bit of thud, or you might get off on a lot of sting.”
“Thud? Sting?”
“Exactly what they sound like. One is just a dull percussion, the other has a bit more bite. And really, flogging doesn’t even have to be pain play. It just depends on what the sub wants and what the Dom wants to dish out.” He paused, then pushed himself up. “Roll onto your stomach.”
“What? Why?”
“I’m just going to give you a little sample of what it feels like.”
“You’re not going to whip the hell out of me, are you?”
“Only if you ask me to.”
I turned onto my stomach, resting my head on my folded arms.
The familiar metallic jingle gave me goose bumps. The hiss of leather across denim made every muscle in my back and shoulders tense.
His palm touched my lower back and drew a barely-there line up my spine. “I’m going to start out light and easy, okay?”
I nodded.
His hand paused at the base of my neck, then started down my spine again. “Relax. You’ll feel it, but it won’t hurt. Just relax and don’t forget to breathe.” Muscle by muscle, his soft touch and whispered command loosened the tension, calming my nerves until I let out a long, serene breath.
He lifted his hand off my skin, and some of the tautness returned to my back. It wasn’t apprehension about what he was going to do next, just my body seeking his now absent touch.
The belt hit just below my shoulder blade, the dull impact registering as a light tap. Then the leather slid over my skin before lifting away and coming down again. And again. And again.
“That doesn’t hurt, does it?” he asked, his voice as gentle as the belt’s strokes.
“Not at all.”
“I’m going to do it a little harder this time, okay?”
I nodded.
He struck harder. Still, the sensation didn’t even remotely resemble pain. As he continued this way, it became more like a massage than anything. A percussive massage. The slow, steady rhythm became like a second heartbeat, lulling me into a calm, relaxed state I’d never before associated with someone striking me.
His voice sounded miles away when he spoke. “Do you want me to try it a little harder?”
I murmured something in the neighborhood of “yes”.
The next impact was harder, resonating deeper within me. There was still no pain, just a thud followed by a vibration that radiated through me like the last wave of a waning orgasm.
“It might sting a little this time,” he said. “Just tell me if it gets to be too much.”
The belt struck harder, and it was the sharp sound of leather on skin that startled me before the vague sting made itself known. Before I’d even processed the fact that there was pain, he hit me again, and that, too, hurt. It reminded me a little of a bee sting. No, the memory of a bee sting, pain so faint and far away it might not have truly existed in the present.
Eventually, he stopped. He dropped his belt off the side of the bed and lay beside me again. He didn’t speak for a long time, just ran a gentle hand up and down my back, laying a soft touch over skin that had become accustomed to sharp leather contact.
“Mmm, that feels nice,” I murmured, closing my eyes.
“How did the belt feel?”
“Different.”
“Different?”
“Mm-hmm. Not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
I opened my eyes and met his. “I thought it would hurt more. And that I wouldn’t like it.”
He grinned. “But you do, don’t you?”
“Very much so, yes.”
“So, what do you think? Want to give flogging a try?”
“Well, I love what you were doing.” I smiled as I turned onto my side. “But you’re the Master, so it’s your decision.”
He touched my face. “I knew you’d be a fast learner.” And he kissed me again. I didn’t know where that man learned to kiss, but he’d learned it well. He knew just how to tease my lips apart with the tip of his tongue, how to raise goose bumps over every inch of my skin with only the slightest brush of his lip across mine.
When he broke the kiss, I said, “I still have one question.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Go ahead.”
I fought to keep from grinning. “At what point do you stop teasing me and finally fuck me?”
He laughed and touched my face before kissing me lightly. “As with everything,” he whispered, “it’ll happen when your Master is damned good and ready, and not a moment sooner.”
“You’re a relentless tease, you know that?”
He grinned against my lips. “Darling, you haven’t seen ‘relentless tease’ yet.”
Chapter 7
Poker night was a sacred tradition among the tenants of Matt’s building. I was the only player who didn’t live in that complex, but since I knew the game and brought beer, they’d long ago welcomed me.
Tonight, for the first time, I joined them with a clear conscience and no fear of annoyed text or voice messages on my silenced phone. Ah, the sweet taste of the single life.
“Okay, ante up,” Steve said as he shuffled the deck. He paused to throw a five dollar chip into the pile, and Lou, Ramona, and I all followed suit.
“You know, one of these days, we should try that game I keep seeing on television,” Ramona said.
“You mean Texas Hold ’Em?” I said.
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
“Oh, come on, now.” Lou rolled his eyes and reached for his beer. “Texas Hold ‘Em is just a fad.”
“It is not a fad,” Steve said. “There’s a lot of money to be made at Hold ’Em.”
“And a lot to be lost,” I said.
Steve shrugged. “Well, if you play like Matt or Lou, yeah.”
“Hey!” Matt glared at Steve over his shoulder from the other table. “I heard that.”
“Whatever, Sommers,” Steve said. “You turn around and mind your own cards.”
“Watch it, Preston,” Matt said. “Or next, game you’re going to find out why we don’t play strip poker with you.”
“We don’t play strip poker because ain’t nobody in this room wants to see your birthday suit.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. I wouldn’t say nobody in this room wants to see that.
“Okay, here we go,” Steve said. He dealt five cards to everyone. I picked up my
hand, but didn’t look at my cards immediately. Instead, I surreptitiously scanned my three opponents.
Ramona’s lips tightened into a scowl and her brow furrowed over narrowed eyes. Lou pursed his lips. Steve’s expression remained neutral.
With their responses noted, I looked at my cards. Two queens and a two, which was wild under house rules. Three of a kind. Definitely a good start.
“I’ll bet five,” Lou said. His usual cockiness was absent.
Ramona concentrated on her cards for a moment, tapping a fiver on the table. Just bet already, I wanted to say. She wasn’t the fastest player in the world, but at least she wasn’t like Lynette, who currently sat at Matt’s table. IRS audits and root canals didn’t take as long as it took for Lynette to decide between a five or ten dollar bet.
Finally, Ramona tossed a five in. “Call.”
I picked up two chips and threw them in the pile. “I’ll raise it five.” In unison, both Lou’s and Ramona’s eyebrows jumped.
Steve eyed me, then nodded and threw ten in. “Lou, how many cards do you want?”
“Four.” Lou slid the cards across the table.
Steve gave him four. “Ramona?”
“Three.”
“Kristen?”
“Two.” I handed him the cards and took my replacements. Another two gave me a four of a kind. The only way anyone was going to beat me was with a straight flush or a royal flush. Fat chance, fuckers, I wanted to say, but I carefully kept my expression one hundred percent neutral.
While I waited for my opponents to scowl or gloat over their hands, I exchanged glances with Matt. He smiled, and heat rushed straight through me. My face must have been as bright as the hearts on the cards in my hand just then. I quickly went for my nearly empty Coke, desperate for something to cool me down.
He had to have seen everything Scott and I did the other night. If not that, then what I’d done alone last night and the night before when my desperate need for everything Scott still denied me had gotten the best of me. Scott had me horny beyond rational thought. The more Matt saw, whether it was me alone or me with Scott, the more he turned me on, too.
“Kristen?”
I looked up and realized all three of my opponents were watching me. My face burned even hotter. “Sorry, sorry. What’s the bet?”
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