by Sue Lyndon
Flushed from his compliment, I grabbed a cookie and took a small bite, ever cautious of his watchful gaze. He studied me, sizing me up the same way I was sizing him up. Teasing the Dom out of him, I thought.
The afternoon sped by as we spoke with ease. My nerves flew out the window and soared over the snow-capped trees. Though he was reserved, he had a playful, animated side I’d only seen glimpses of in the past. I felt privileged that he was sharing this part of himself with me. We discussed a book proposal Dr. Taylor was working on, my new job, random news topics, and anything and everything else imaginable. His pointed questions caught me off-guard a few times, but I reveled in the brief moments of anxiety. They made me feel alive. Besides, under the right circumstances and with the right person, anxiety could be the ultimate aphrodisiac.
At some point, the space between our knees closed. He placed our empty mugs on a table beside the couch and leaned back into me, thigh to thigh. A pulse of rippling heat surged through my pussy, and I squirmed to relieve the building ache caused by his encroaching presence. Skin-to-skin contact would surely be the death of me.
A pause in the conversation caused the tension in the room to swell exponentially. My eyes fell to his lips and I waited, waited for —
“Do you have a boyfriend, Ms. Monroe?” All businesslike, his tone held no note of desire. A simple question. Fuck. My heart crashed to the floor at the coldness of his voice.
I scooted away and stood up, needing air. “I think I should go. I don’t want to take up any more of your time. Thanks for the coffee.”
“I asked you a question and I expect an answer. Well, do you?”
“No,” I finally answered, wringing my hands in front of me. Playtime had ended. This was serious.
“Good.” He rose to his feet and approached me at the window. “If you really want to leave, this is your last chance.”
The thought of leaving killed me. I shook my head so hard that my long hair whipped about my shoulders. “No. I don’t really want to leave.” I crossed my arms and glanced out the window, drawing courage from the picturesque scenery. I didn’t want any blurry lines in regard to what I imagined was about to happen between us. “I’m not looking for a relationship, Dr. Taylor. I’m looking for —”
“A rough fuck?” He closed what little space was left between us. Our noses nearly touched, and I fought the urge to step back.
“Um, kind of.” Ugh, could I sound any more indecisive? I straightened and met his gaze, feeling a bit sullen. “Are you a Dom, Dr. Taylor, or what? I’m sick of trying to guess. I think you’re kinky, but dammit a person can never be one hundred percent sure.”
“Are you a submissive?” he countered.
Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I nodded and bit my lip, needing the pain to sharpen my focus. I awaited his response, desperate to hear his first command, craving it beyond reason.
He circled me then, trailing a finger along my neckline and around to my lower back. The electric burn of his touch prompted a shiver to run through my whole body. I focused on his steady footsteps, anticipation curling my stomach tighter and tighter. A gush of wet heat quaked between my thighs when he tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his penetrating glare. The intensity of his look grew larger and larger, and I suddenly felt dwarfed by his strong presence. He was all around me, inside and out, filling me up with the knowledge that I was here for his pleasure. Though I had no right to make such a request, I hoped he wasn’t easy on me this first time.
First time? What if this was our only time? I brushed the idea away and concentrated on the here and now. Dr. Taylor’s hot breath hitting my ear, the ticking of a nearby clock, and the feel of his palm flattening on my back burned into my memory. His other hand swept up to fist in my hair, and his mouth hovered over mine.
I closed my eyes.
“Oh, Angela,” he said, “I bet you taste as sweet as you look.”
Urgent and demanding, he captured my lips in his with a searing kiss that took possession of my body and mind. I couldn’t think straight, I could only feel the sensations flowing through me as he took command. His tongue glided inside my mouth, firm but sensuous as I fought to meet his thrusts. Oh God, I was burning up and dying for more of his rough treatment. He yanked my hair again and my pussy throbbed with need, jolt after jolt of arousal shooting straight to my pulsing clit. Wet and ready, I moaned when he pulled away.
Our eyes locked.
“Take off your clothes.” He released me entirely and returned to the couch, watching me with an expectant look.
Heart pounding, I reached for the hem of my sweater. Face inflamed, I paused. Wanting to submit and actually submitting were two totally different things. He leaned back, silently daring me to disobey. I pictured myself nude in his living room, kneeling at his feet. More blood rushed to my face.
“You decided to stay, Angela, and I expect you to play by my rules. Now strip or my first order of business will be to give you a long, hard spanking. If that’s what it takes to get you in the right mindset, I won’t hesitate to do it.”
I sucked in a shaky breath and pulled my sweater off in one swift motion. My jeans came next, tossed on the floor. I knew he expected complete nudity. Hands trembling, I unclasped my bra and let it slide away. Lowering my eyes, I stepped out of my lacey thong and kicked it aside.
Bare and vulnerable, I stood with my hands at my sides and my eyes fixed on his shoes. Next to him fully dressed, my nudity was heightened, as if my soul was laid bare to him, every secret and hope and dream ripe for the picking.
“On your hands and knees.” He snapped his fingers once, loud.
Though it was awkward, especially with the sunlight streaming through the window to illuminate my nakedness, I sank down on my hands and knees. The hardwood floor was cool against my palms, and I peeked up at Dr. Taylor’s face.
He nodded. “Good girl. Now crawl to me so I can talk to you.”
I loved and hated every crawl-step it took to reach him. And when I’d reached my destination at his legs, it felt like home. Dammit Angela, I scolded myself, keep your heart in check. I wanted to be his good little submissive, but keeping an emotional distance wasn’t easy. I called out to my inner slut, the mindless slut who slept with all those guys after I returned from France, but she didn’t respond.
I was in over my head, but I wouldn’t retreat. Oh, fuck it. I could lick my wounds later. One afternoon wouldn’t fuck me up the same way three years had. I was stronger than that.
“Do you know what a safeword is?” He cupped my chin in his warm hands.
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. Pick a word —any word but red.”
Oh. What did he have against red? My mind raced for an acceptable word, something easy I could recall in a moment of panic. “Um … how about ruby? It’s my birthstone.”
“Ruby it is. You’re lucky it’s your birthstone or I’d think you were sassing me with a synonym for red.”
I’d suggested ruby to my Dom in France and he’d shot it down for a word of his own choosing, but I wasn’t about to explain this to Dr. Taylor.
“A coincidence,” I said, afraid I’d caused offense. “I swear.”
He regarded me with warmth and I nearly melted on the spot. “I believe you, pet.” Then his visage darkened and he seemed to grow ten inches, larger than life and with an air of authority that left me quivering at his feet.
“I won’t be angry if you use your safeword, Ms. Monroe. Do not be afraid to use it.” He pinched one of my nipples, and I gasped and fought the urge to pull back even as pleasure ricocheted through me like a stray bullet unable to find a stopping point.
“Yes, Sir.” I was frozen, and the words escaped my lips in a throaty whisper.
He guided me through the house, up a flight of stairs and into a massive bedroom with a four poster king-size bed that rested ridiculously high off the floor. Like the rest of his house, the room was immaculate. Everything appeared to have its place, and I shudder
ed to think how exacting Dr. Taylor would be with me. He wasn’t the type to compromise, and I felt a new surge of fear.
Face to face in the center of the dim room, I lifted my chin and tried not to let my nervousness get the best of me. Maybe I should sink to my knees. His face was unreadable, again, and I shriveled under his piercing gaze. But when he spoke, his words nearly caused me to bolt for the stairs.
“Go bend over the bed, legs spread wide, and pull your bottom cheeks apart. Now, pet.”
Chapter 3
No, no, no.
I couldn’t do it. He was asking too much of me, too soon. I’d expected us to begin slowly, but instead he’d jumped twelve steps ahead by issuing a command so brazen it left me rooted to the floor. Why did he have to test me right off the bat?
“Dr. Taylor — Sir — please, I don’t think —”
“What’s the problem, pet?” he cut me off and took a step back, as if he was giving me more room to complete the impossible task.
I hugged myself and stared at the floor. What the hell had I gotten myself into?
“You have five seconds. Don’t think. Just do it.” He snapped his fingers again, causing me to wince.
Mentally, I counted down, five, four, three, two, one. I hadn’t moved an inch in the direction of the bed. Crap. Would he throw my clothes at me and tell me to go home?
“Bad girl.” Disappointment reflected in his eyes.
A board beneath his feet creaked as he walked behind me, shaking his head in disapproval. My heart lurched. One large hand squeezed my right bottom cheek, and his fingers dug into my flesh hard. Guilt seized me, crashing over me like a violent wave taking me under. I’d disobeyed Dr. Taylor.
Hot breath hit my ear from behind. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” His hand left my bottom, and I stood frozen, waiting in dread.
He returned to bind my wrists together in front of me with a silk scarf. “I’m sorry, Sir,” I said, knowing I probably shouldn’t speak. “Please don’t be mad.”
Jerking back, he clasped my chin between his fingers. Concern lit his face. “I’m not mad at you, pet,” he said softly. “And if I was, we would stop at once. Understand?”
“Y — yes, Sir,” I stammered as I filled up with relief. My wrists were bound, and I expected to be punished for my noncompliance, but I felt safe in his hands. I felt free.
“Now,” he said, pulling me toward the bed, “It’s time to pay for your insubordination.”
And pay I did. Dr. Taylor pushed me over the covers with my legs spread wide to deliver a quick, hard spanking. Though he used his hand, it was as rigid as any paddle as he wielded it against my bottom cheeks, landing stinging blows all over, from my upper thighs to the top of my butt. God it hurt, and I could barely wiggle because my feet didn’t reach the ground. Damn high bed.
He paused to rub my aching backside. Was it over? Before hope bloomed, he parted my cheeks. His gaze was hot on my most intimate parts, my pussy and bottom hole fully exposed. I whimpered.
“This was all I asked you to do, pet, and you refused. Naughty, naughty,” he scolded, still keeping me splayed apart. He pushed a finger into my moist center, and I couldn’t stifle a groan of pleasure. “Naughty and sopping wet.”
My throat burned and I blinked back tears of humiliation. Emotions I hadn’t experienced in years burst to the surface. I buried my head in the covers as he started pumping his finger inside my slick channel, deep and fast. My bottom still burned, and I held on to the pain, knowing that tomorrow I would see his marks upon my body like a badge of honor.
“I’m going to plug that little asshole of yours, pet. Consider it the final act of your punishment.”
His words caused my pussy to contract and clamp down on his finger, but in the next moment he got off the bed, leaving me empty, sore, and longing for more of his touch. I heard drawers opening and closing. Oh man. How large would the plug be?
Ominous footsteps sounded as he approached the bed. Involuntarily, I clenched my bottom together, but the pressure between my legs only increased until my clit was throbbing so badly I couldn’t resist attempting to grind my center down. It didn’t work and added to the helplessness of being bound and at Dr. Taylor’s mercy.
“You’re a lovely girl,” he said wistfully. He ran a hand over my backside and delved lower to cup my mound. “Mmm. All swollen red, wet, and smooth.”
I moaned. One finger – maybe two? – moved in my moist entrance to thrust in and out, steady but slow. Cool liquid trickled down my crevice, and a hard object was pressed to my tight bottom hole as he continued to finger fuck my pussy. He teased me with the object, sliding it about my small opening to spread more of the lube around. A few times it nudged partially inside me, but not far enough to glide past my tight ring of muscle. The tip of the plug prodding my asshole in tune with his pumping fingers created a delicious twinge in my lower belly, the beginning of a wave I ached to ride to completion, but I held back out of fear I’d be disciplined further if I came during a punishment.
“Take a deep breath,” he said. “Good girl. Now breathe out slowly.”
I followed his instructions and the plug entered my bottom as I exhaled, filling me up with a sweet burn as it stretched my walls. “Oh!” I gasped, squirming while I tried to process all the sensations he was creating in me. The pain and the intimacy of being touched there with such force sent a gush of heated desire straight to my clit. I jerked around on the bed and didn’t still until he slapped my ass twice.
“Stop it,” he admonished.
I froze at the same moment he withdrew his fingers. The scent of my own arousal rose heavy in the air. The bed dipped again as he shifted position, and I craned my neck around, needing to make eye contact one last time before he fucked me. Stupid girly feelings, I thought.
“Suck.” His eyes glazed over as he pressed two fingers to my lips. Without hesitation, I opened my mouth and tasted my own heady essence, licking my juices off him until he moved away. Approval lit his face and I swooned with delight. The deep desire to satisfy Dr. Taylor, no matter what limits he pressed, crashed down on me again. The shame of disobeying his first command was washed away by the punishment he’d delivered to my bottom, and if I could’ve found my voice I would have thanked him for every painful smack —not to mention the plug filling me up as a reminder of his control.
He grabbed my hair and tugged hard, jerking my head back.
“Are you going to be my good little slut now?”
“Y-Yes, Sir.” I hated when I stuttered, but I couldn’t seem to keep my voice calm in his presence. He shook me up to my core.
He released my hair and got off the bed. I took advantage of the reprieve to inhale a few deep breaths. When I glanced over my shoulder, he was completely nude. My ragged breaths returned. Somehow, he appeared taller and larger all around without his clothing. His huge cock jutted out and swayed up and down as he approached me. I gulped.
From a table beside the bed, he produced a condom and rolled it down over his huge stiff length. Hmm. Why was it red? Dr. Taylor didn’t strike me as the type to have a drawer full of colorful condoms. My question was answered the moment he pulled me face first to the edge of the bed and slammed his cock in my mouth. As I adjusted to the intrusion, I became aware of the taste. Fruity. If my lips weren’t wrapped around his cock, I would’ve smiled.
Hard fingers gripped the side of my head as he fucked my mouth. He was using me like a toy, just the way I wanted — rough and demanding. My arms were still bound behind my back and his hold on my face was strong. When I squeezed my thighs together, I became more aware of the plug in my ass, another reminder that I wasn’t in control. His deep thrusts in my mouth quickened and grew deeper. From my position on the bed I couldn’t raise my eyes high enough to see his face. I only glimpsed his chest, broad with well-defined muscles and speckled with dark curly hair. I closed my eyes and opened my throat to his relentless mouth fucking, taking short fast breaths through my nose. I wanted to be the
good little slut he desired.
“Ah!” He moaned and his cock jerked inside me. His posture stiffened and I felt the heat of his seed filling up the condom. What I wouldn’t give to taste him, all of him, and lick every last drop of his salty liquid up like a gift. I pushed the thought away — behind the door with all the other thoughts I shouldn’t be having about Dr. Taylor.
He left me, empty and well used, on the bed for several minutes. I heard a door open and running water as I floated down from the clouds. My bottom ached from the spanking, but with my wrists bound I couldn’t rub the sting away – though I doubted Dr. Taylor was the kind of man to allow such behavior. My pussy juices felt sticky and hot between my thighs. Would he fuck me there? God, I hoped so. If he untied me and sent me on my way home, I’d burn up and die on the drive home.
The water shut off and I sensed him walking across the room, even though my eyes remained shut. His powerful presence was like a steel aura surrounding him. I shivered when I felt the bed dip. Working the silk ties on my wrists, he untied them and rubbed the soreness away as I lay, limp but craving more of his rough treatment. If he fucked my pussy as hard as he’d fucked my mouth —well, that’s exactly what I wanted. Would asking him to fuck my pussy hard be crossing a line?
Wrapped in his arms, he cradled me against his chest and stroked my hair. “You took my cock well, pet. How do you feel?”
How did I feel? Ugh. Hmm. How did I feel? I fumbled for the words and felt his body grow rigid.
“Tell me the truth, pet. How do you feel right now?”
“My bottom hurts.”
He laughed. “Good. It’s supposed to hurt. What else?”
“I – I’m burning up. My clit, my pussy, I – I’m so wet. Please, Sir, will you please fuck me?” The last vestige of my pride fled, perhaps seeking refuse behind that imaginary door where I kept shoving my inappropriate thoughts about Dr. Taylor.
Again, he laughed. “You are a little slut, aren’t you?” Two fingers spread my moisture over my engorged clit, rubbing in precise motions to stir my desire to the peak before stopping.