by Eden Bradley
No, he had to be strong. One of the things he’d learned about Emma and her preference in submissives was that she liked men who would provide a little resistance. So, he would have to be careful not to act out so much that she grew annoyed and severed their relationship, but just enough to keep her interest. Emma liked her Alpha males; Ryan wasn’t surprised by that in the least. She was a strong woman and would need a strong man. Right now, it looked like she needed a strong man between her shapely thighs and he was more than happy to meet her needs.
He’d take that pretty, hard clit between his lips and gently…
The pain from her grabbing the top of his ear and jerking it startled him out of his contemplation of her sweet, very wet pussy.
“Now, that is just rude.”
He flinched as she let go of his ear and, instead, sank her golden claws into his shoulder. A deep shiver raced through him as nerves came to life beneath her touch. Just enough pressure to hurt, but not enough to tear the skin, at least not yet. If he had his way, his back would bear her scratch marks, proof that he’d brought her pleasure, and he’d wear them with pride.
“I’m sorry, Mistress.”
“No, you aren’t.”
She walked around to his back and slid behind him so she was straddling the bench while standing, the heavy weight of her breasts dragging across his back along with the tickle of her hair. With her mouth positioned at the sensitive side of his neck, she said, “I won’t have any lies between us. Am I understood?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Goosebumps raced up his back as she lightly scratched her nails over his shoulder blades.
“I like your tattoo. What is it?”
“Scenes from the book One Thousand and One Arabian Nights.”
She was quiet for a moment, now touching him with her fingertips and sending chills racing down his spine. “I thought it was One Hundred and One Nights.”
“In the modern English versions, yes, but in the original collection of folk tales compiled during the Islamic Golden Age there were a thousand and one, sometimes more depending on the edition.”
Using both hands, she began to frame sections of the elaborate murals hidden among the flowing scrollwork.
“Why does this book have so much meaning to you?”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “My mother was from Saudi Arabia. She would read one story to my sister and I each night before bed. When she got sick, I started to get tattoos of her favorite stories.”
Emma stilled behind him, then lay full against his back, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him close. In a surprisingly gentle voice she asked, “Did she get to see them all?”
“No. She passed before my back was done.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
His throat closed up and he took a couple deep breaths, willing his tears back. He hadn’t talked about his mother with anyone outside his family in years, and he found himself floundering for his footing. This wasn’t supposed to be how the night went. He was supposed to be seducing her not laying his heart bare, but Emma was just so easy to talk to. He wasn’t here to earn her sympathy. He needed to seduce his beautiful Dominatrix into seeing him again. In his own way, he was like Scheherazade from the book telling her tales to stay alive another night, but in his case, he was hoping to earn another chance to win over Emma’s heart.
The thought of himself as the beautiful princess made him chuckle.
“Do you find something funny?”
He wished he was holding her, but the sensation of her nipples grazing his back had him shifting as his cock once again hardened.
“I was thinking that I’m a lot like Scheherazade, trying to win another night with you.”
“Does that make me the sultan?”
“More like the sultana.”
“Hmmm, I rather like that.”
Before he could respond, she slipped off of him again and began to gather some of the large throw pillows. She tossed them down on the ground before the hole and he trembled with the anticipation of her touch. If she left him now, he would go fucking crazy with need. He turned and closed his eyes, hoping she wouldn’t punish him by walking away.
“Now, Ryan, I think we both know you owe me an apology. I’ll deal with your defiance, but not your disrespect.”
Long moments went by, and her movements settled until all he could hear was their quiet breathing. He wanted her approval with a desperation he scarcely understood. A part of him argued that he shouldn’t give anyone so much control over his emotions, but how the fuck was he supposed to stop loving her now? Those intense feelings of affection and desire that had overwhelmed him as a teenager came rushing back while he tried to get a handle on himself. He needed to seduce another night from Emma. After he counted to sixty twice he couldn’t hold back the words he needed to say any longer.
“Please, Mistress, forgive me. I must confess that no matter what you do to me, I will forever remember the way you looked walking across the room. Everything beautiful and feminine all wrapped up in a hot-as-sin package. You were made by God to torment men, of that I am sure.”
The silence stretched out until he began to sweat, but finally she said, “You know, you’re much sweeter when your eyes are closed. If you don’t behave that will be your permanent state so I suggest your curb your tongue before it gets you in trouble.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“On your information form you noted that you have a latex fetish. If you can get through the rest of this session without peeking, not even once, I will wear something you will greatly enjoy seeing. Something shiny and slick that will mold itself to my body as if painted on. If you disappoint me, you’ll be blindfolded at the door.”
Relief washed through him as he realized he was going to see her again. That knowledge enabled him to relax a bit, to loosen his body enough that his shoulders no longer ached. He’d have another day to win the heart of his sultana. A moment later her fingertips trailed over the top of his foot in a soothing manner. “There we go. I was hoping that beneath all that bluster there was a man who wasn’t afraid of his need to submit.”
He smiled, partly because of her teasing touch on the sensitive skin between his toes, and partly because she was right. “Funny, isn’t it? Out there, in the real world, I’m someone people admire, or at least they pretend to admire me in order to get on my good side. But here, with you, I’m just…broken down to my basics. I know who I am and what I want.”
“And what is it that you want?”
He could have been mistaken, but he thought her voice trembled slightly. He took a gamble, wondering if she remembered anything about that fateful night of their first kiss. “I want to care for you the way you deserve. I want to worship you and make you happy. I think you’re perfect.”
~ * ~
FOUR
Emma froze, hoping Ryan didn’t hear her sharp intake of breath.
The past and the present overlapped as she realized she’d heard those exact words before from someone a long time ago. Memories assailed her and she thought she might choke when she realized who the man was she had bound and awaiting her pleasure.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
He was Ryan Darwish.
The best kiss of her life and one of her biggest regrets. And she had him restrained, naked, and so aroused that his dick pulsed to the beat of his heart. This couldn’t be real.
On an impulse she reached out and stroked his lips, their soft, giving surface just as amazing as she remembered.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.
Trying to keep her trembling legs firm she stood and stared at him, seeing the echo of the gangly boy beneath the rugged man he’d become. She’d been haunted by bits and pieces of memories from the night he’d driven her home, fragments that had taken her years to put together. Most of them were too-good-to-be-true memories of making out with Ryan until she almost came while dry humping his leg, but the one thing she’d remembered clearly was Ryan kicking he
r out of his car. She’d always thought that he thought she was some kind of drunk skank after that night. So, what the hell was he doing here?
She needed to get her shit together. “Ryan, I’m going to the cabinet on the other side of the room. I will never leave you alone while you are restrained but I will be away from your side. Understood?”
“Yes, Mistress.” He licked his full lower lip, and she wanted to rub her pussy against his mouth in the worst way.
Practically running across the room to the cabinet, she quickly opened it and stared unseeing at the assorted BDSM equipment within.
Did Ryan know who she was? He must. While she’d gained a few pounds since high school, she had to admit she looked pretty much the same. She gripped the shelves in front of her to help steady herself as fuzzy memories of the best kiss of her life filled her. What the hell was Ryan doing here? Should she tell him she recognized him?
No, she couldn’t acknowledge their shared past yet.
Shit.
He’d thrown her for too much of a loop. Her mind had gone from confident Mistress to hesitant teenage girl in a matter of seconds. This whole situation had suddenly become far too personal, something she never allowed to happen during sessions. For fuck’s sake, she’d seen Ryan’s cock and it did indeed match her hot memories. Moisture flooded between her legs and she wanted him like she hadn’t wanted a man in what felt like forever.
Her practical mind was screaming at her to send him on his way, that he was an unacceptable risk to her emotional wellbeing, but she just couldn’t. She’d always wondered what happened to Ryan, and over the years, had even considered trying to hunt him down, but never had. Now he was here and at her mercy.
Even Mother Theresa wouldn’t have been able to resist the temptation that was Ryan bound and naked.
Turning to look at him past the edge of the open cabinet door, she sucked in a slow breath. Sitting there with his eyes obediently closed and his muscles slightly flexing with tension, he was magnificent. Even though his erection had faded during their conversation, it was still a thick, beautiful cock. She wanted to touch that cock. With a start, she realized she could. Maybe just for tonight she could pretend that she didn’t know who he was, that he was just another client.
And as her client, he was entirely hers to play with.
Her hands shook as she selected a pair of black PVC gloves that went up to her elbows and a bottle of lube. While she was tempted to pull out every single object in the closet and use each and every one on him, she also wanted to entice him enough to come back, to give her a chance to play with him again. Suddenly the idea of going to his home didn’t seem so bad. In fact, she really wanted to see his house, to see the kind of man he’d become, which meant that this would be their last night together. She could probably resist him now, but if she saw him again she wouldn’t be able to stop seeing him.
Just for tonight she could pretend that he was hers.
Moving to stand before him, she watched his face as he registered her presence. His lips parted and she almost kissed him, but she had different plans for their first kiss…or would it be their second kiss? The tats on his arms rippled as he shifted on the bench and she wanted him to tell her the story of each one.
She checked his wrist restraints and frowned at the color of his hands. No real damage had been done, but he’d obviously been jerking at them, inadvertently tightening them. She’d have to keep in mind for future sessions that he liked to struggle, or lacked the self-discipline to stay still. “I’m taking these off. You will stay on the bench and grip either the sides or the top of it.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Don’t move.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
He turned his head slightly as she leaned over his side, her left breast brushing his cheek. A hard shudder went through him and she smiled, returning to what she considered her Domme headspace. No matter who Ryan was today or had been in the past, in this moment he was her submissive. If he belonged to her she’d make him wear some kind of marker at all times to show he was taken. Not a public collar, but maybe a pair of wrist cuffs. Maybe a cock ring—if she could find one big enough. Those possessive thoughts threatened to tear her out of the moment, so she let them drift through her mind, returning her focus to the purely physical. With Ryan that wasn’t hard to do at all.
After releasing one wrist she massaged it while he winced. “Does it hurt?”
“Just pins and needles. If I may ask, are you wearing some kind of gloves?”
“Yes. I’m wearing shiny, skin tight, black PVC elbow gloves.”
“Lord, have mercy on a sinner,” he muttered in a barely audible voice.
When she pulled back to get his other wrist free, her nipple brushed his lips and she froze. The temptation to order him to suckle her nipple, to bite it, swept through her like a compulsion, but she fought it back. Teasing and temptation would only make his eventual reward all the sweeter. Still, she tormented herself by pressing just a little bit closer and rubbed her nipple over his mouth.
As soon as he opened his lips she pulled back and enjoyed his frustrated growl. “Mistress, you could drive a man crazy.”
“I know.”
He laughed softly and rubbed his wrists, his eyes still closed.
The lure to touch him was too great and even as she chided herself for rushing the moment she said, “Ryan, I’m going to jerk you off now. I want to see you come so don’t hold back. Your pleasure is my pleasure and I want to watch you climax.”
A strained noise came from deep in his chest. “Right now I’m so fucking turned on I’m afraid I’ll come before you touch me.”
“Mmm…we’ll see. Remember, eyes closed and don’t move unless you’re adjusting yourself on the bench.”
She got comfortable on the pillows, moving them around until she was at the perfect level to touch his huge dick. A drop of pre-cum dripped from the flushed, dusky red tip of his cock, making her mouth water. Using the tips of her latex-covered fingers, she caught that drop and smeared it over the sensitive head, enjoying his gasps and groans. He was so vocal, and it turned her on something fierce.
Gently smoothing her fingers over his shaft, she traced the thick veins along the side down to the base, then cupped his balls. Like the rest of him, they were big and heavy, just how she liked it. While she realized some women didn’t like playing with a man’s balls, she loved it. She especially loved it when she made even more pre-cum drip from Ryan. His big thighs flexed as she stroked him, learning the sensitive areas of his body and striving to get more of those sexy-as-hell noises from him.
The wood of the bench creaked when he gripped the seat behind his back, adding a sexy as hell arch to his body. A sense of pure, decadent power warmed her from within at the sight of such a big, dominant male restrained by nothing more than her commands. She said not to touch, to fight his primal instincts, and so he did. A sense of wonder filled her as she watched him unravel beneath her feather-light touch.
This was a good man, too good for her, but she couldn’t resist.
Sweat slicked his frame and she filled the palms of her gloves with lube then grabbed his shaft with a firm touch. His shout and the automatic roll of his hips had her moaning softly in response. When she was connected with a submissive like this, it was as if they had an invisible link extending between them that allowed her to feel his pleasure, his passion. He was magnificent, and she wanted to ride him in the worst way. The head of his cock engorged further and she added her second hand because just one wasn’t enough to fully encircle him. Now that she knew where to touch him to get the best response, she ruthlessly drove him to his orgasm. Despite her order to come as soon as possible, Ryan fought it like most men would. Sometimes the male ego was so easy to figure out. Making him climax against his will would strip away some of his control, opening his soul to her.
“That’s it, handsome. Give it to me.”
He bucked as she twisted her hands while she jerked
up and down his shaft. Gripping the top of the chair, he pressed his groin as far forward as he could get it, the shaft throbbing in her grip. Her own arousal shot off the charts at his deep groan and she looked up, studying his face as it tightened in desire. His high cheekbones stood out in sharp relief, and even though his lips were pressed together, they were still full enough to make her think very naughty thoughts.
As soon as she felt the first spasm of his cock in response to his impending orgasm combined with his harsh shout, she placed her mouth over just the head of his dick and sucked his essence out of him. Each blast of the salty seed hit her taste buds with a flavor so male it was like swallowing an aphrodisiac. He kept saying her name, over and over, in a tone of voice that made her feel so desired, so…adored.
She licked and sucked every bit of him that she could get, repeatedly milking the thick vein on the underside of his cock. He began to flinch as the head of his dick became overly sensitive, but she continued to torment him until he was once again hard. By this point, he was resting his head on his forearms as long and drawn out groans poured from him in an almost continuous stream.
Leaning back on her haunches, she placed her hands on her thighs in an effort to hide their trembling, flinching at the wetness of the lube on her gloves. She was drunk on him, high on the massive endorphin punch of his submission. Glad he hadn’t seen her waver, she peeled the gloves off and placed them over to the side for the cleaning crew to take care of. The scent of Ryan’s musk tickled her senses and it took her more than a few moments to gather herself enough to stand and not launch herself on him.
Moving to his side, she smoothed her hand over his sweat-dampened back, enjoying the hard muscles flexing in response to her soothing caress.
“You may open your eyes.”
He slowly raised his head and the hunger in his gaze had her womb contracting. “Thank you, Mistress. That was…amazing.”