Only You

by Coleen Singer

  Kyah didn't know what to say, and that must've been reflected in her expression.

  Riker took her cheeks in his hands, holding her face still for his kiss. "It doesn't matter," he whispered, whisking her jammies and panties off her completely in one easy movement, for someone with such long arms, "There will be no more waiting for us. I refuse to waste so much as a second with you, now that I have you, at last."

  Her top was next. Suddenly, she was naked in front of him, for the first time in her life, in their lives. They might have bathed together as toddlers, but neither of them remembered it.

  Although she'd never been much of a prude with anyone else, the way he was looking at her – the stark, unabashed hunger in his eyes – as well as her own long entrenched insecurities made her want to reach for the robe that was at the end of the bed. Or, at the very least, do that ingrained thing, where she covered herself with her hands.

  But he wasn't about to allow her to do either, catching her arms as they began to move to cover herself in front of him and holding them there, not forcing them away or down, just holding them. Ri hoped she never felt the need to do this again, although he understood the impulse.

  As he held her arms captive, he looked up at her from beneath his brow, his words warm and comforting and encouraging rather than scolding or chiding. He could have ordered her to lower her hands, but he didn't want to do that.

  "Am I truly a threat to you, my darling? Or do I love you to distraction, here and now, more than I've ever allowed myself to before?" He ended the question with a soft smile. "Even if we weren't here like this, I hope you know that you never feel – or felt – the need to hide yourself from me. If I'd seen you naked before this, I might – well…" He blushed brightly to her surprise. "I would have looked, but I would have gotten you something to cover yourself, too." He caught her chin in fingers that she was embarrassed to realize smelled of her. "I have never, and I will never, do anything to you that I think would be harmful. You are safe with me, as I know – as surely as I know my name and how much I love you – that I am safe with you." With that, he let go of her.

  Still a bit hesitant, Ky, nonetheless, let her hands drop to her sides, and Riker uninhibitedly looked his fill, groaning loudly as he did so. "I always knew you were perfection, and that you were perfect for me." He looked her in the eye, grinding out roughly, "I can barely contain myself with you lying there before me. My control is a testament to how much I respect and adore you. I can't promise I'll always be quite so well behaved, but I want you to know just how much I desire you, how much I've wanted you – all day, every day, for all these years."

  He had crawled up and over her, balancing himself on all fours above her, using his strength to lower himself to her. He was kissing her everywhere, dragging lips and tongue over her face and jaw, leaving a kiss on the tip of her nose but avoiding her lips. Then doing that same thing to her entire body, but circumventing her breasts and the aching, sensitive area between her legs, until he'd explored every inch of her except there, leaving trails of wetness everywhere that raised gooseflesh and tightened her nipples to diamond hard peaks, making her just that much more aware of the areas he'd avoided.

  The bastard.

  And then, finally, he kissed her, all of that pent up passion coming to the forefront, taking her mouth the way he would take her body once he was certain he'd sated her beyond all else. His tongue demanding access and plundering her mouth when she gave it to him, feeling – surprisingly – every bit of her promised submission to him, more acutely than she ever had with any other man.

  This was Riker. This was the man, who had been the star of her adolescent fantasies, and who continued to be the center of them, to this very day. To her shame, it was never any of the men she'd been with – or even her fiancé – or rock stars or actors who she thought of, when she was alone, enjoying her own company.

  It was Riker, who always came to mind.

  Now, he was here, making her his.

  He placed his lips over the very tip of a nipple, sucking it fiercely into his mouth, drawing it roughly past his teeth, making her whimper and moan as he did so. Every sound she made brought him closer to a peak he wasn't at all sure he could hold off.

  But he would, if it was the last thing he did. He didn't want to let himself experience that final explosion until he was deep inside her, feeling her body clinging to him, clenching around him with each thrust.

  And before that, he would watch her implode in his arms again and again, until he thought she couldn't take any more.

  When his hands sought her breasts, kneading and massaging them a bit less than gently while his mouth still held her nipple captive, her head began to thrash on the pillow, as if he was giving her much more than she could stand, her own hands grasping at his arms as if to pull his away from her.

  "No, little miss," he scolded, using near the full extent of that potent tone.

  Ky mewled as her hands reluctantly fell away from his.

  "Am I hurting you?" His chin lowered ominously. "And I think you know better than to lie to me, don't you?"

  She shook her head, and then nodded.

  "Say the words, Kyah. You have a beautiful voice, and I want to hear it hoarse with passion."

  "No, you're not hurting me, Ri." She colored profusely, but answered honestly, "And yes, I know better than to lie to you."

  There was little in his life he wouldn't tolerate – especially for her, but, that, she already knew he would not tolerate from anyone, even her.

  "If I do hurt you, unintentionally…" he said, almost conversationally as his lips kissed and suckled and nipped at the tender flesh of her breasts. "I expect you to tell me. Understood?"

  "Yes, yes," she breathed heavily.

  "Good girl."

  She lost time for preening under his praise when he began to move down her body, dragging his still clothed self against the intimate bits of her that were splayed around him; she was entirely too distracted by the thought of him actually being where she knew he was going to end up.

  And he didn't waste any time once he got there, either, besides a long slow, reverential sigh of the word, "Beautiful," as he stared at her, his hand parting that which her body sought to hide from him.

  As much as she wanted him there – and she did – she still felt the need to reach down to him, as if to stop him, for some weird reason she couldn't even fathom herself.

  Riker, ever alert to her movements – to everything about her – saw her hands come down to dance tentatively around his head and shoulders, although they never actually touched him.

  Just as he was sliding one finger into her, he looked up and locked eyes with her.

  She blushed even more than she already was, and he found that more endearing than he wanted to.

  "Those hands of yours are going to get you into trouble, my love," he rasped. "Have no doubt that I won't hesitate to flip you over and paddle your behind, if you try to interfere with what I'm doing in any way."

  She wiggled and twisted in protest, but her hands clutched the bed sheets as if to prevent them from further mischief. "No, Riker! You've already spanked me!"

  He chuckled outright at that. "Well, you have been sliding by with those other Doms, haven't you, if you think that was a proper spanking! That was just a slight correction to get your attention, baby girl. I have yet to spank you in a manner that I'm afraid you're going to become entirely too familiar with, before long."

  Her eyes wide, she continued to move her body restlessly, as if to wrestle herself away from him, although she wasn't trying any too hard to do so.

  "Before you end up on your tummy, sniffling and begging me to stop spanking your bottom, I want you to lace your fingers behind your neck and leave them there. That'll keep you out of trouble – for a while, anyway."

  He wanted her to what? How could she possibly do that? She'd be helpless! And she wouldn't even be bound or anything, except by his edict and her own submission.

 
; As much as he wanted to continue in the vein he had been, Riker wasn't about to let her ignore his order, nor was he going to set a bad precedent by letting her take her time in deciding whether or not she was going to obey him.

  He was of a mind that, once he issued the order, the decision was made. All she was required to do was to comply with it, but, apparently, no one had ever enforced that idea to her.

  So, within a few seconds of having told her what he wanted her to do, when she had made no move to obey him, he easily flipped her onto her tummy, as he'd threatened he would. He reached across the bed to her nightstand where her antique wooden hairbrush was, with the perfect sized oval head, and began to swat her behind with it, delivering very thorough, deliberate spanks that landed with a satisfying crack onto her lily-white flesh.

  Dear God, it hurt!

  And Kyah was mortified to realize that, although no one else had ever been able to make her cry during a punishment, within the first two smacks, she was already weeping. And thoroughly regretted not doing exactly as he'd told her to do, not that she could really remember what that was, through the nasty way he was making her backside sting.

  He knew she must have thought that he'd landed fifty or more spanks to those lovely hillocks, based on how loudly she was shrieking about it. It was more like fifteen or twenty, although they were far from the love pats she seemed to be used to, judging by her true indignation at just how much a real spanking hurt. She'd, apparently, never really been spanked. Being involved with him was going to be quite an eye-opener for her.

  "Now, little girl," he said, holding her in place with an arm across her back, leaving the brush lying on her cheeks as a silent warning that he wouldn't hesitate to give her more if she continued to resist submitting to him. "When I turn you over, what's the first thing you're going to do?"

  Sniffling just as he'd predicted, she answered quickly, "Lace my fingers behind my n-neck."

  "Good girl."

  He turned her over with a gentleness she didn't expect, even murmuring sympathetic sounds when she hissed and yelped as her behind came in contact with the sheets.

  But her hands went immediately to where he had said that they belonged, even though their position made her feel just as she'd known it would – horribly vulnerable and helpless.

  Chapter Four

  Dear God, he nearly went off at the sight of her like that, opened before and around him, hands neatly tucked out of his way.

  He rearranged himself, guiding her legs over his shoulders so that they framed his head, looping his arms around them at first, just in case she got any rebellious ideas about trying to avoid his mouth or fingers.

  The first thing he did was bury his entire face within those soft, delicate folds, drinking in her scent, the way she felt against him, letting his tongue explore her freely. Poking rudely at her gentle swellings and valleys, lapping, tasting, testing, and, through it all, listening keenly to her reactions to all of it, his sharp mind automatically cataloguing what ways of touching her here garnered the most fervent responses.

  When he eased back a bit, his slippery, wet tongue naturally found its way to that fevered peak. Hearing her moan a sigh as his lips finally closed around her, that insistent tongue of his surrounding and possessing every bit of that nerve filled flesh, establishing a rhythm right at the spot that it usually took her lovers a few attempts to find.

  But not Riker. He was right there, from the start, adjusting his pressure and movements to the tune of her helplessly whimpering moans.

  And, somehow, she knew that he knew that, first of all, just telling her that she wasn't allowed to move her hands from where he'd told her to put them was a tremendous turn on to her. Exercising his control and mastery of her got her hotter than she could ever have imagined it would. Now, she was discovering just how surprisingly restricted she felt because of it. With her legs over his shoulders and her hands behind her neck, she could barely move, really. She couldn't arch herself into his mouth, as she so desperately wanted to. She couldn't reach down and run her fingers through his glorious hair or even clutch the bed sheets, as she had a feeling she was going to need to, before he was through with her.

  Then, not long after he'd begun, Riker let go of her left hip to slip his right hand between them, gently pressing one finger inside her.

  Kyah couldn't suppress a guttural groan, one that was heightened when his middle finger joined the index finger that was already there, stretching her a bit. But then they found and crooked repeatedly against that spot inside of her, the one that drove her crazy, and began hitting it deliberately each time he pushed them into her, slowly, deliberately at first, then much more forcefully, she thought she'd come undone right then and there.

  The delicious sounds she was making alone were more than enough to push him over the edge, but he clamped down on himself, knowing it would be more than worth it to see her in all of her glory as he brought her to ecstasy.

  For a moment, though, he lifted his head from his delightful task and simply watched her, noting that her eyes were closed, her face was flushed with a slight sheen of perspiration, and she was doing her best to undulate her body when he wasn't really allowing her to do so very much.

  It was a truly amazing, thoroughly humbling sight.

  As he lowered his mouth to her again, his voice rang out, clear, strong, and powerful. "You have no choice but to cum on my mouth, Kyah Elizabeth." He liked the almost parental sound of using her full first and middle names. Eventually, he intended that he'd be able to add his own last name to that chiding phrase. "I won't let up. I will never stop until you have obeyed me. Surrender yourself to me. Now."

  Part of him also wanted to remind her how loved and safe she was with him, but he hoped she knew that already, and if she didn't, she would, very shortly.

  For now, though, he thought including that might take away from the pure passion of the moment, and he wanted her to feel nothing but that, this precious first time.

  As his mouth settled over her again, with her practically sobbing for want of it, a third finger joined the other two, and he began to pound them into her, much less gently than he had been, as he suckled and teased her clit mercilessly, feeling her trying to ride his face but frustratingly unable to do so. She would come into her pleasure at his behest, not her own.

  And she did, seconds later, the rhythmic begging, "Please, please, please, please, please," that had begun as a whispered chant, ending as a throaty scream while she danced to the relentless tune his mouth and fingers called. Head thrashing, body convulsing, her hot, wet cunt clasping his fingers, fit to break them off within her as she surrendered herself to him, eventually collapsing, to tremble and shiver and mewl, her body moving – as much as it could – restlessly, as if seeking something more.

  Damn, he couldn't wait a second longer to feel her contract around him, and as much as he had intended to exhaust her before he took her for his own, he knew he couldn't last that long. Rather than come to an ignominious end behind his zipper, he dragged his pants down – barely able to get them down fast enough – before he drove himself into her, her startled cry just spurring him on.

  Her hands were still behind her head, like a very good girl. He might have told her she could move them, but he didn't have the time before the demands of his body overtook him as he settled himself into her, her legs still over his shoulders, held up and back with every tremendous thrust. Still, his hand found its way between them to coax that little bud to rise again, even as she still spasmed around him from the strength of her first climax. But he ignored what he knew were her body's natural reactions to her orgasm and set about building another within her. It didn't take any time at all before she let loose beneath him again, and, as her body milked him incessantly and insistently, he burst deep within her –much too soon – but then, in his defense, his release had been decades in building.

  As exhausted as he was, he rolled to one side, leaving his hand right where it had been when she'd expl
oded that last time, stilled for a long moment while he tried to catch his breath, but then moving again – insistently – demanding her response.

  "No, Riker, that's enough, really."

  He frowned down at her. "It's enough, when I say it's enough, Kyah."

  She drummed her feet against the bed, huffing and puffing – and not just in reaction from her last two powerful orgasms. Within seconds, he'd brought her to a third, and immediately after that, a fourth.

  When he didn't immediately begin to summon a fifth, she asked pointedly, "Can I put my hands down now?"

  "I don't know, can you?" he asked back, just as pointedly.

  Ky rolled her eyes. "May I?" she asked sarcastically.

  The fingers between her legs stopped caressing and pinched that very sensitive bud rudely.

  "Ow! That hurt!"

  He grinned at her indignation. "Good. It was supposed to. I don't appreciate the attitude, and I'd suggest you get it right ASAP or I'll show you what a real spanking from me is like, sooner than you'd prefer, I'm betting."

  Son-of-a-bitch.

  He wasn't going to make it easy for her to submit to him. Somehow, she'd had a feeling he'd be like that with her, and it had – in fantasy – only made her want him more.

  In reality…the jury was still out. At least, in her mind, it was. Her body was long gone over to the enemy's side.

  And she knew – although her mind wanted her to fight against it – that if she wanted to put her arms down, she had to get his permission or she'd end up getting more of her own hairbrush applied to her already still stinging behind.

  Doing her best to hold back a much less than submissive sigh of exasperation, she asked quietly, respectfully, "May I put my arms down, please?"

  "Yes, you may, sweetie. Are they sore? I'd be glad to rub them, if you like."

  "No, thank you." Her answer was more subdued than he would have preferred, but then, although what they had just done was the highlight of his life, she was still in the throes of a painful breakup.