by Lilli Feisty
“Also. Don’t move unless I tell you to. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Unless of course, you want me to stop. If you want me to stop, you can say… Chihuahua.”
“Chihuahua?”
“You want me to stop already?”
“No… but Chihuahua?” She tried not to laugh.
He also seemed to be holding back his humor. “You just broke a rule. Such a bad girl, but I’ll enjoy punishing you for it.”
She bit her lip to keep from telling him to go fly a kite.
His smile faded, became more serious. “Now, are you ready, Ruby darling?”
Every muscle in her body seemed to tremble as she took a deep breath and met his stare. Last chance. She could still run away. Scream Chihuahua.
And always wonder what it would have been like.
She took a deep breath and straightened. “I’m ready.”
“Take off your dress.”
Her arms trembled as she lifted the hem of her skirt up over her thighs, her black panties, her back. He finished the job by raising the dress over her head, and then she was exposed except for her black lace panties and gold stilettos. She felt goose bumps trickle up her arms.
He took her hair in his hands and moved it aside, draping the heavy length over her shoulder. She felt a hot kiss at the back of her neck, right over the cherry blossoms tattooed at the nape.
His soft lips and warm breath calmed her shaky body. She closed her eyes, listening as he moved. She heard the clinking of brass as he unbuckled his belt. Then the sound of leather sliding across cloth reached her ears. Her breath caught in her throat.
Softly, so softly it was like a whisper, he took the strap of black leather and drew it over her skin. Around her neck, over her collarbone, across the back of her shoulders.
Ash had used only soft hemp rope. So much heavier, this leather. It scratched her skin like the music coming from the old vinyl scratched her ears, and there was something distantly comforting in the sensation.
As he caressed her skin with his belt, she absorbed its commanding weight, knew Mark held that exquisite power in his hands. The scent of buckskin would never seem innocent again, would always remind her of Mark.
He took both her arms until they were straight behind her back, rigid. She wore no bra, and her nipples tingled as she arched forward.
Binding her with his belt, he wrapped the leather around her arms from elbow to wrist, until she heard the final clink of him fastening the buckle. Then, she was as he’d wanted her. Bound. His.
Shaking, she waited to see what he’d do next. She heard his footsteps on the hardwood floor, but she dared not turn around to see what he was up to.
Then he was back, his hand resting gently on her head, caressing her. Calming her.
“The first thing I noticed about you was your hair. I had to keep my hands behind my back to keep myself from burying my fingers in it.”
She felt a brush oh-so-gently moving through the strands of her hair. It tingled her scalp and seemed intimate somehow. As he continued to brush her hair she felt her nerves calm down, just a little.
He continued for a moment before taking the boar bristles and lightly skimmed her ribs, down her spine and then her buttocks. The sensation was prickly and should have been unpleasant, but it wasn’t. In fact, the feeling became more lovely by the second as he scraped her ass, one side and then the other, running the brush over the edge of her panties. He increased pressure until the bristles scraped her skin, causing her to inhale sharply. It hurt, and yet the pain only made her more aware of how turned on she was. Her eyes closed, she felt his breath at her ear.
“You’re the one bound, Ruby. But you have all the power here. Don’t forget that.”
She nodded, unable to speak.
He scraped her ass again with the brush. “Such beautiful skin, so pale. It’s going to look even more beautiful after I’m done with you, and you’re going to love it. You’re going to love looking at your skin and knowing I put those marks on your body. Aren’t you, baby?”
She squirmed and he chuckled.
“I was very disappointed earlier when you went against my order for you to take off your panties.”
“I know,” she breathed.
Lean over the chair. Rest your body on the cushion.”
Kneeling, she leaned facedown across the cushion of the overstuffed chair. Her nipples tingled against the fabric. Her arms, bound by Mark’s belt, were stiff behind her.
Now she was utterly exposed, vulnerable. She’d given herself over to him, given him that authority. Why was it so freeing to be so helpless? What was it about Mark that made her want to give him this? Give him everything?
He’ll be gone in the morning.
She pushed the thought away. The fact that he would be leaving just made her more determined to take advantage of every second, to experience this night with him as intensely as possible.
Something dark fell over her eyes, blinding her. She inhaled the now-familiar scent that made her knees weak. Mark’s shirt. He was using his shirt to blindfold her.
“Oh, God.” The sensation was killing her. She couldn’t see; she couldn’t move. She could just smell him, hear him…
“How are you doing, darling Ruby?” he asked.
“Never better.” She tried to sound droll, but her voice trembled, giving her away. “Fuck it. Please, Mark. I need…” She had to feel him. She couldn’t feel enough.
“What do you need, Ruby? Tell me.”
“You. I need to feel you. On me, inside me.”
“Oh, but I think you need something else. I think you need a little more sensation than a cock filling you up.”
His graphic language set her sex on fire. He seemed to layer her pleasure, much as he’d layered his music during the show.
He took the bristles again, ran them over her ass and upper back, across the backs of her thighs, until she was trembling again. Until she was raw.
It was never like this before. Being bound by Ash seemed so incomplete in comparison; this was what she’d been craving. Mark had every nerve in her body alive, made every sensation amplified.
Now he used the brush with a heavier touch. She squeezed her eyes shut as he scoured her skin. Her body shook from needing him, needing him to strike her. She could feel her own endorphins kicking in, turning the pain to pleasure, but she wanted more. Wanted something harder.
“You like that, Ruby, don’t you? I can feel you trembling. But you know I’m just preparing you because you know the first slap won’t be gentle.”
Good. She didn’t want it to be. She had no idea how she knew that, but she was very certain that she did not want a gentle hand. She wanted to feel. She wanted to feel everything.
With the back of the brush, he struck her with a stunning precision that thrilled her very core. Sharp pain singed the entire right side of her ass. Still, she did not cry out. Instead she begged. “Please—”
“Sshh.”
She bit her lip.
The next slap was harder and hurt. Hurt so much she couldn’t keep her voice inside.
He slapped her again, with more force.
“Fuck!” Her entire body responded in a rush of bittersweet pleasure.
“Do you want more?”
“Oh, God—”
The back of the brush stung her again; the slapping sound resonated in her small apartment, drowning out the soft jazz.
“Ask for more.”
“Please, more—” She screamed, her body twisting, writhing.
He obliged. Beautiful pain ripped through her; her pussy throbbed from it, her mind reeled from it. And each time he struck her ass she inhaled him again, thankful for the shirt he’d used as a blindfold. Her senses were limited to scent and pain and sound, and just when she was going to come from it all, he stopped.
“Please, more…” She was begging. Begging him.
“I think you’ve learned your lesson.” His voice sounded dark and gravelly, hoarse. She rubbed her crot
ch against the edge of the chair, hoping for even the tiniest bit of friction of release.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” He yanked her hips back and tugged down her panties until the elastic stretched just above her knees. The air chilled her wet pussy but then he was there, his warm tongue licking her, exploring every moist inch. She backed into his mouth, pressed against his face. He licked her from clit to anus, again and again, until she was screaming nonsense, screaming his name. And when he shoved his fingers deep inside her she came in a hard rush that left her shattered.
She didn’t remember him unbinding her or lifting her, but then she was in his arms, cradled against his chest as he dropped into the chair. He gently untied the blindfold and her gaze fell on his exposed skin.
It seemed strange that this was the first time she’d seen him undressed, and she drank him in. He had little body hair to detract from his lithe frame. When her eyes fell on his nipple rings her sex gave a little throb. She wanted to lean down and take one into her mouth. How hard would he like her to tug? He knew so much about her, yet he still remained a mystery to her.
And it was already early morning. So little time remained to explore this man, Mark St. Crow.
Sitting in the chair, he held her in his lap, nuzzling her hair, her ear, her neck. Held her with such tenderness it melted her insides. She loved the way he could dominate her and nurture her in the same moment. He kissed her eyes, licked away the tears her release had brought forth.
Taking her arms in his hands, he massaged her wrists. “Been a while, baby?”
She nodded. “Yes. Since…” She glanced at the portrait on the wall.
“He broke your heart, then?”
“No. He just couldn’t give me what I needed.”
“And I can.” It wasn’t a question; the fact that she was still quivering inside from her orgasm was all the answer she needed.
Mark reached down to pull her panties over her knees and her heels. He threw them next to her dress. “Why me?” His brown eyes searched hers.
“I liked you. I trusted you.” She smiled. “And I’m insane, obviously.”
“I’m glad I met you tonight, Ruby.” His fingers skimmed a lazy circle around her nipple until she felt the tip harden under his touch. And then, a stirring between her legs.
Her ass still stung from earlier, and she couldn’t wait to see the marks on her skin. What was that about, anyway? It seemed so wrong, and yet there it was.
She began to suspect this was a huge mistake, this little tryst with Mark. This feeling, this afterglow, could be addicting.
“Do you ever stop thinking?”
She met his gaze. “What do you mean?”
“I can see it in your eyes, the little gears churning.”
“It’s just that I never—”
“Do things like this. I know.” He kissed her softly on the lips. “But I’m so glad you did.”
Through his jeans she could feel his erection pressing against the side of her hip. He’d taken off his glasses and now he slid them back on. She reached up and gently traced the frame. “Can you see without them?”
“Barely.”
“I think they’re sexy.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded.
With great care he took her head between his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. “I want to fuck you now, Ruby.”
“Yes. Fuck me.” She’d never spoken this way before, but with him she couldn’t hold anything back. Like somehow it was easier to be herself with this stranger than with her family and friends.
Lifting his hips, he tugged off his jeans and boxers and kicked them aside.
“Put your hands on my shoulders.”
She did.
He took his cock in his hand and stroked down and up, slowly. Her pussy responded immediately with a steady, pulsing throb. She watched as he tore open a silver packet with his teeth, removed the condom and slid it over his erection. His hip bones were sharp and angular, his stomach flat. She loved watching the muscles of his body as he moved.
“Slide onto me, Ruby.”
She closed her eyes as he guided her. This was it, what she’d been waiting for. She slowly sank onto his body, and when he was inside her, she cried out from the satisfaction of it.
He filled her completely, physically and emotionally. She was dying to give herself over to him. Using her pelvis, she rocked against him back and forth, until she saw a little drop of sweat on his brow. Lust pooled inside her, between her legs.
“Don’t come,” he said.
Her hands clenched his strong, smooth shoulders as he lifted her up, then down, directed her. Every nerve in her body screamed, wanting release. Her own cries of ecstasy, animalistic and unlike anything she’d ever heard herself utter, contrasted with the soft jazz music, elevating the erotic energy already coursing though her body. Her orgasm, just out of reach, throbbed from her clit to the depths of her sex and deeper still.
She watched his eyes darken, his lids lower, and she fought the urge to lick the drop of sweat off his brow. She couldn’t take that initiative. Even now, with her riding him, he controlled her. His need to control and her need to submit seemed to pulse between them, like a living thing.
He leaned forward and took her nipple into his mouth. She arched against him, and when he bit her flesh she nearly died.
“Mark, please.” She loved to hear herself beg.
He looked up and his gaze was hard on hers. “Do you want to come?”
“Yes, please… please. I want to come.”
He removed her right arm from his shoulder and kissed the tip of her index finger. “Then fuck me.”
He sucked her finger into his mouth and she ground against him, moving until her clit rubbed his pelvic bone. Yes, right there…
“Mark!” She threw her head back as the climax ripped through her, tore her apart. And only then, with her finger on his tongue and her gaze locked on his, did he allow his own release.
She didn’t know how long she lay on top of him, a panting heap. He traced his fingers over her back, stroked her hair.
After a while she glanced over her shoulder at the photograph Ash had taken of her. Yes, it was beautiful. But it was like looking at an image of someone else. It was the image of someone trusting and foolish. It didn’t feel like her at all.
Now, suddenly, she was sick of the picture, sick of it in her home, sick of it on her wall. She suppressed the urge to stomp across the room, rip the thing down, and throw it out the window.
But then she remembered the photographs Mark had purchased. She thought of him looking at those images, and it softened her. Just thinking that he might look at them, that he would remember her a little, made her heart melt.
She kissed Mark’s cheek and closed her eyes. She wouldn’t think about that. Not now, not while she still lay slick and warm in his arms. There would be time for that tomorrow. After he’d gone.
Emmett finally walked in the door at two in the morning. Meg sat at their concrete counter, sipping decaf. Waiting.
He closed the door silently, tiptoed through the entry, and stepped into the open living area before he saw her. “Meg? What are you doing up?”
She smiled. “Waiting. For you.”
“Oh.” He looked past her shoulder. “Great.”
Sliding off the barstool, she let her robe drop to the floor, leaving herself dressed in nothing but a sheer black negligee. “I was hoping we might… you know… do it.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “God, Meg. I’m exhausted.”
She clenched her fists. “You never used to be too exhausted for sex.”
“That was before we bought this place, before the new studio, before…”
“Before what?” She swallowed down the ball of panic in her throat.
He shrugged, his shoulders bunching underneath his sweater. One of the things she’d loved about Emmett was his body, how he looked in clothes. He was tall and skinny and still wore Converse high-tops. He had
spiky black hair and reminded her of Sid Vicious. All those things, combined with his sweet personality, had made her fall for him at first sight.
He came to her and placed a quick kiss on her forehead. “I’m sorry, babe. I promise, tomorrow I’ll have more energy.” He turned and walked away to their bedroom.
Tomorrow. How many times had she heard that? Swallowing back tears, Meg picked up her robe and followed him to bed.
Chapter
Six
Ruby was trembling in Mark’s arms.
He held her tightly, stroking her back as he kissed her nipples. He could feel the muscles of her arms spasm beneath his hands as she recovered from what they’d done.
What they’d done. He was flying high still but beginning to crash. Didn’t matter. What mattered was Ruby in his arms, open and vulnerable and needing him to care for her.
He knew he’d taken her further than she’d ever allowed herself before, and now, with this petite beauty in his arms, he felt so much more than an obligation to be a responsible dom. The desire to protect her came from somewhere deep inside, and it was unfamiliar and primal.
He stroked her silky hair, and she smiled up at him, still dreamy. He wanted to see that look again, wanted to look in her eyes and see everything right there. It seemed that if he just searched her eyes long enough, he’d know all her secrets, her deepest fantasies. And fuck if he didn’t want to be part of those desires.
Wrapping her in a soft blanket he’d found draped over the couch, he laid her on the oversized chair.
As she rested her head against the back cushion she looked at him, her eyes wide and dark and so open; for a second he had to look away.
Then he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Be right back.”
She nodded and closed her eyes.
Grabbing his jeans and T-shirt, he found his way to her bathroom, went inside and closed the door. He ran a hand over his head.
His hand was shaking.
Fuck.
Thinking about the fact that he had to leave in just a few hours made something go crazy inside him. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to be with her the whole damn day. Make her breakfast, learn how she took her coffee. Make love to her again. Make love to her slowly and sweetly. Watch her come again and again.