by Amy Valenti
I opened my eyes, focussing on him with an effort as he increased the pace of his fingers inside me. He was giving me the Dom look—not the stare he'd turn on me when I stepped out of line, but the analytical, slightly amused once-over he'd use just before he said or did something to make me crazy.
"Are you close?"
He already knew I was—he just wanted to make me say it, and he was completely aware of the effort it took me to form coherent sentences when I was like this.
"Do you wanna come for me, little...” His eyes flicked down to the word cunt written on my lower abdomen, and he hesitated just long enough for me to make the association before finishing his sentence. “...tease?"
I opened my mouth to answer him, and at a deft flick of his thumb ended up crying out instead, my eyes falling closed. He didn't let up, but I heard the warning edge to his tone as he reminded, “Look at me."
When I did, he was watching me carefully, waiting for my response, and I gasped out, “I don't know if I can stop myself..."
With a one-shouldered shrug, he curled his fingers just right, and I squirmed desperately against the mattress, trying not to lose it.
He waited until I'd regained my precarious hold on the edge of reason before pointing out, “I never asked you to hold back."
While I was still processing that, he pulled abruptly away from me, leaving me aching with need and completely unfulfilled.
"Fuck!"
Only sheer, stubborn determination stopped me from safe wording right then. I was so frustrated I was half-sobbing, attempting to curl into a ball against any further torment, but unable to because of the ropes that bound me. He was right—I could have taken the orgasm he'd been so close to giving me, and I kicked myself for not seeing the opportunity.
"Sir,” I whispered, a single-syllable plea with a thousand-word babble behind it.
Don't leave me like this—I can't take it—my brain will explode and my body will just spontaneously combust and, oh God, I want you want you need you please please please—
Despite my silence, he knew what I was trying to say. Shifting positions, he ran his tongue slowly and deliberately over my labia, avoiding my clit and kissing and nipping the flesh around it. When he finally began to coax me to the edge again, licking and gently sucking on my clit, I was more than ready to take the plunge into oblivion, and God, I needed it so much—
He raised his head, once again leaving me dangling at the edge, to say, “If you get close enough, you don't need my permission to come."
I swallowed a snarl of frustration, gritting my teeth as my mind zigzagged between amusement and irritation.
I knew that, and he knows I knew that, and if I don't get to come soon I'm gonna need a padded cell...
He paused for a couple of seconds, letting the pleasure ebb to a bearable level, before beginning all over again. It wasn't long before I was pushing against his fingers and tongue as much as my restraints would allow, my sighs becoming moans, then cries. Just as I was about to fall apart, he stilled his fingers inside me, blowing lightly on my clit.
"Oh, you god damned son of a—"
Oh my fucking God, oh, oh God, there...
I didn't know if I had just thought the words, or screamed them, but just when I'd lost hope, he went right back to where he'd left off, and I only needed a little more, just a little...
My capacity for conscious thought blinked out of existence, and I gasped, shaking and bucking against him as uncontrollable waves of ecstasy claimed me—pulse after deep pulse of mind-splintering pleasure that left me senseless.
Finally...finally...
I floated on the aftershocks, dimly aware of Pierce's fingers releasing me from the ropes that bound me. He stretched out beside me, pulling me against him, and I draped an arm and leg over his body, snuggling close and trying to regain my breath.
"You're pure evil, Sir..."
His quiet laugh vibrated through his chest to mine.
"You had it coming."
"So, is it true what they say about revenge?"
Pierce ran a light hand between my legs, for emphasis rather than to provoke me.
"That it's a dish best served cold? Not as far as I remember from two minutes ago..."
Grinning, I slid a lazy hand down to his neglected erection, still too exhausted to do anything about it.
"If I had the energy to move, I'd do some tasting of my own right now..."
"Oh, you will, little tease. Soon,” he growled in response, tilting up my chin to kiss me hard. “I'm not letting you out of bed for the majority of the night."
Feeling my blood faintly begin to stir again in response, I pressed my hand against him a little harder.
"More revenge, Sir?"
He shook his head with a predatory grin.
"Not revenge... Just a precaution to make sure the lesson sticks."
"I always did enjoy studying..."
* * * *
Pierce had been way too tense all week. The case we'd closed the Thursday before had messed with his brain—a woman and her child had been murdered before they could testify in a shooting connected to the Mafia.
We'd found the culprits, but it had been a close call, and as with any case that involved the death of a child, Pierce was on edge. Too on edge for him to trust himself as a Dom, and he kept pushing me away. Not physically, but he wasn't exactly welcoming me into his arms.
I left him alone for a while, letting him have some time to work through it. Almost a week on, he showed no sign of surfacing from his brooding state—he was letting the past overwhelm him, adding this failure to the other innocents he'd been unable to save since he'd become a cop. He needed to lose himself for a while. And even though he'd told me never to try this on him again, I could tell he needed it.
"Listen up, detective."
He looked up sharply, the tone of my voice eliciting a frown. “Don't even think about it."
"I know cases like the Collins murders are hard.” I kept my tone Domme-ly, leaning in the doorway with my arms folded under my breasts. “But brooding isn't gonna help. Now go and shower."
He stood, crossed the distance between us and squared up to me, giving me his full ‘Sir’ persona out of habit rather than will.
"You suffering from memory loss, little tease?"
"No, Sir.” Acting instinctively, I dropped to my knees and looked up at him from my position on the floor. “But I learnt from my mistakes, and I think what I have in mind will help."
He sighed, obviously conflicted, and tugged me to my feet again.
"Faye..."
"Do you trust me?” I put a hand to his stubble-covered face, and he softened a little.
"You already know the answer to that."
"Then trust me."
Pierce held out a second longer before nodding slowly.
"Don't make me regret it, little tease. I still have that marker pen."
While Pierce was in the bedroom, I ducked into the bathroom and stole his razor and shaving cream and a pack of disposables from the cabinet.
Phase one complete.
Once I heard the water running, I looked through the assorted items of clothing I had stored at his place, finding a transparent, burgundy mesh micro-skirt I hadn't worn yet.
And, ooh, look... Hold-up stockings to match. I forgot I had these...
Skinning down to my black satin bra and panties, I looked critically down at myself.
A change of underwear might be in order. Do I have any burgundy stuff here?
A quick search later, I found an underwear set that was pretty damn close, and shimmied into the whole ensemble.
Not long until Zach gets out of the shower—where are those damn heels?
By the time Pierce shut the water off, I'd dolled myself up enough that ‘little tease’ was almost off the radar. When he walked back in, a towel around his waist and his hair damp and tousled, I purred appreciatively.
He glanced over at me, then did a double-take, eyeing me i
n the same way I was looking at him.
"Hi."
"Hey there, detective."
The shower seemed to have relaxed him a little, and he gave me a slow smile. “Wouldn't happen to know where all my razors are, by any chance?"
Innocently, I pointed to the top of the dresser, where I'd placed the items in question. He looked from me to them, and back again. “Go on. I'll bite."
"Oh, really?” I walked around him in a seductive circle, looking him up and down. “Then have a seat."
He sat on the edge of the bed and waited. I decided to leave the towel around his waist for now, and instead picked up the shaving cream from the dresser, sauntered over to him and straddled his waist.
He slid his hands up my stockinged thighs before creeping them around to cradle my ass.
"You can be very strange, you know that?"
I scowled at him. “Did I ask you to speak, detective?"
"Didn't ask me not to,” he pointed out, and I granted him that with a shrug.
"I'm asking you not to now."
His eyes wandered downwards from my face in a slow exploration, but he didn't speak. Satisfied, I got to work with the shaving foam, keeping my touches so deliberate they were almost foreplay.
Once I had finished, I got up from his lap and reached over into my bag for the piece de resistance of my little scene.
His eyebrows shot up as I flicked open the old-fashioned straight razor, but he kept his silence admirably. I almost called him a ‘good boy', but he hadn't been too happy about being addressed that way last time.
"I'll ask you again, detective. Do you trust me?"
Pierce took a moment to think about it, his eyes on the razor.
"Yes."
I really had learnt my lesson—I didn't even demand that he called me ‘Mistress'.
"Good to know,” I murmured, leaving a trail of kisses along his collarbones. “Wait there."
It only took a couple of minutes for me to return with a bowlful of hot water, and then the fun began.
I wanted to sit in his lap again, but decided to drag over the wooden stool from the corner of the room instead.
"As much as I like feeling your cock between my legs, detective, I don't trust you not to wriggle. And if you wriggle, I might end up cutting your throat. Not sexy, I'm sure you'd agree."
Amused, he allowed me to tilt his head, and held the position while I wetted the razor and leant forward.
"Hold still."
As if he'd do anything else at this point.
Carefully, I scraped the sharpened blade over his cheek, then dipped the razor into the bowl of water to rinse off the stubble and foam.
"Hmm... Not bad.” Running my finger over the smooth streak of skin, I added, “And I didn't even cut you."
As I prepared the razor for a second scrape, Pierce gave me a look that screamed, You're not exactly inspiring the greatest amount of confidence here
Grinning, I leaned in again. His lips twitched with a suppressed smile, but he kept still enough for me to continue with my task.
I fell silent until one side of his face was clear of stubble and soap. I was better at this than I'd thought I would be—handling chemicals all day had given me steady hands—though there was still a long way to go.
Setting down the razor, I moved back into his lap and trailed kisses over his smooth, shaved cheek.
"Much better."
Pierce wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close. He kissed me, parting my lips with a flick of his tongue, then sliding a hand to the back of my head. By the time I broke away, my face had its own share of shaving foam, and Pierce's was patchy.
I gave his soap-free cheek a light slap, moving reprovingly out of his reach.
"That was for distracting me, detective."
He smiled, reaching out to brush some foam from under my nose. I arched an eyebrow at him.
"You gonna make me tie your hands?"
Amazing how much he can say without even opening his mouth.
Sighing melodramatically, I stalked across the room, picked up his police-issue cuffs and returned, ordering Pierce to his feet and cuffing his hands securely behind his back.
"Now, where was I?"
It was high time he lost the towel. When I tugged on it, it fell away with satisfying ease. I pushed him back down to a sitting position, straddling him again and reaching down between us to stroke up and down his growing erection.
"I'm not gonna let you come until I finish with the razor...but I'm gonna tease you a little for now. Okay with that, detective?"
He nodded, and nuzzled my shoulder with his clean-shaven cheek as I continued to stroke him, purring. Then, sliding down his body to kneel between his thighs, I let my mouth do the rest, giving him head until he growled my name.
Any more and he'd be spent, and I wasn't done with him yet. I tapered off and got back to business.
"Thanks for reminding me. I have a job to finish."
Though he didn't speak, the heated gaze he gave me communicated his frustration well.
Damn right, you do. Get back down there.
Reaching for the shaving foam, I leaned over to give him a brief kiss. His answering kiss was hard and demanding, and it was an effort not to let him seduce me into just uncuffing him. Pulling out of reach, I batted my eyelashes.
"Oh, you wanna fuck me, detective?"
"Come over here, and I'll show you."
An extra rush of lust had me taking a step forward before I could stop myself. Somehow I managed to keep myself in check, sitting back down on my stool and calmly filling my hand with shaving foam.
"Sit still and be good, and you might get what you want."
Once his other cheek was ready for the razor, I reached around to my back and unsnapped my bra, shrugging it off with casual abandon.
Pierce exhaled hard, his eyes all over me, and I grabbed his hair and tipped his head to the angle at which I needed it.
"Close your eyes, detective."
His breathing was a little shaky as I continued to shave his face, a bit at a time. I nicked his skin once or twice in the trickier places, but the cuts were tiny and only bled for a few seconds. It gave me a good excuse to kiss them better, which seemed to drive him crazy. Or maybe it was the way I reached down at the same time to check he was still hard.
When all that was left was the patch under his jawbone, which stopped just short of his Adam's apple, I tilted his head back.
"You know, these razors are also known as cut-throat razors."
He opened his eyes, locked gazes with me, then gave a one-shouldered shrug. He wasn't worried, not even a tiny bit, and even though that kinda sucked for the scene, it made me smile.
"It's okay. My cell phone is just over there, so if there's an accident I can call 911 pretty quickly."
I took my time with the final part, finishing up with exaggerated care.
"So... I can't decide whether to finish what I started there on the floor earlier, or whether I should fuck you instead. Or maybe I'll leave you there to think about it while I freshen up. That could work..."
Folding away the razor at last, I cupped Pierce's newly smooth face in my hands and kissed him once, twice...and once more because I couldn't help myself. He was way too good at making me forget all my plans, even when his hands were tied.
"You have a preference, detective?” I whispered against his neck.
"I want my hands free.” His voice was low and intense, and I couldn't help but shiver a little at the tone of it. “I want your entire body against mine. Your nails down my back. Your teeth against my neck."
I kissed him hard, biting down on his bottom lip for a second, then leaving a trail of kisses over his cheek and down to his throat, where I kept them butterfly-light.
"You want it rough, huh? How rough are we talking, detective? You wanna hurt me back?"
He pulled on his cuffs, though he knew they were secure.
"Why don't you let me out of these and we'll se
e?"
"Okay.” I grabbed the key from across the room, shimmying out of my panties on the way, but leaving the transparent skirt in place. “In a minute. Stand up."
He did, and I put my arms around his neck, shifting suggestively against him.
"First I wanna feel this silky-smooth shaved skin against my thighs, detective. On your knees."
I steadied him as he obeyed. His cuffed hands made the task a little precarious. Then I sat on the edge of the bed, leaning my weight back on my hands and giving him an expectant look.
He nuzzled my inner thighs, letting me feel the results of my handiwork, before getting to work without hesitation. The sensations of his smooth skin and his insistent tongue combined to leave me crying out within minutes, on the brink of orgasm.
He sat back without warning, provoking me with a lazy smile. I knew exactly what he was hoping for, and God, I wanted it, too...
"Did I give you permission to stop, detective?” I grabbed his hair as I stood up, pulling him with me.
"No,” he answered, with complete irreverence and a provocative smile.
Oh, he's gonna hurt for days when I'm done with him.
"Turn around, right now."
Pierce did, and I jammed the key into the cuffs’ locks, releasing the metal catches. As soon as his hands were free, he turned and pulled me down to the mattress, not waiting for my command.
I pinned his wrists above his head, leaning down with all my weight, but he broke free and dragged me down on top of him, driving inside me almost violently.
I wanted to move, wanted to ride him out of our minds, but this was still supposed to be my scene, and I was too stubborn to let it go. I kept my hips still and kissed him again, hard enough to hurt.
"Just because you're stronger than—"
He flipped me over, pinning my wrists, and told me, “Nothing to do with being stronger. I just love the way you fuck when you're pissed off."
If I hadn't needed him to fuck me so damn much, I'd have got up from the bed and left him there for a while. And knowing I didn't have the willpower to do it made me just as frustrated as he'd planned.
"Let go of me, detective."
He released my wrists immediately, and I wrapped myself around him, dragging my nails down his back, hard.