by Ashe Barker
Rachel stared at him then slowly nodded. He slid his palm from her mouth, to replace it with his lips. He explored with his tongue, seeking, tasting and Rachel parted her lips in welcome. She used her own tongue to join in the sensual dance, and for a few minutes this was enough. When Callum eventually broke the kiss Rachel was already dazed and disorientated. And hungry for more. She reached up to loop her arms around his shoulders, a smile on her face.
Callum’s finger on her lips reminded her of her vow of silence. He stepped back, looking her up and down. Rachel’s tousled hair tumbled from the loose pony tail she’d arranged earlier, but she felt good in her soft red Kashmir sweater, and dark gray skinny jeans. She’d chosen the outfit deliberately this morning, wanting to look attractive while not over-doing it. Her strappy leather sandals dangled from her toes as her feet swung a foot from the floor. His whispered “God, you’re lovely,” warmed her, but despite her studied choice of clothes she still wondered if he was perhaps being kind—it was the gentlemanly thing to say, in the circumstances, after all.
“I brought you a present.”
He stuck his free hand into his jeans pocket, pulled out what Rachel thought might be two small crocodile clips, in a very fetching shade of lilac, held together on a light chain. She opened her mouth to ask what they were, although she had a strong suspicion she knew well enough, but that imperious finger stopped her once more. Taking her hand in his, he dropped the nipple clamps into her upturned palm, and dug into his other pocket. This time he brought out two small, bullet-shaped metal weights, each with a small loop at one end. He placed those in Rachel’s other hand, and winked at her as he looped his fingers under the hem at the front of her sweater.
“Don’t drop your new toys.” He pulled the sweater up and over her head, then dropped it casually onto a chair. He stood back, his expression one of further admiration. Rachel was glad she’d had the foresight, or maybe just blind optimism, to make additional purchases from La Senza the previous day.
“Mmm, so pretty.” He trailed his fingertips along the upper edge of the pale lemon lace, cut low enough that he grazed her nipples as he explored. Rachel’s response was a slight shiver as her eyelids drooped. Her pussy clenched, the wetness starting, and she wondered not for the first time what the hell she was actually doing.
Having more fun that she could ever remember, that’s what. And she hoped she’d dropped the latch when she came in.
He undid the button on her jeans next, sliding the zip down to expose her lacy lemon briefs. He offered her another approving smile before he slid his hands into the waistband and politely asked her to lift up. Rachel obliged, and soon her jeans were in a heap on the chair too.
“Have you ever been fucked on a table?”
His polite inquiry, the questioning arched eyebrow, struck Rachel as oddly appropriate, and she responded with a brief shake of her head.
“Ah well, we’ll soon put that right. First though…” He reached for her, tipping up her chin with his palm, holding her face still for his kiss as he snaked his other hand around between her shoulder blades to undo the clasp on her bra. The lace fell into his hand and he drew the straps along and off each arm, never breaking the kiss, offering her no opportunity to object. Not that she could come up with any serious objection at that exact moment. It was all she could do to remember to draw her next breath.
Callum stepped away. He pulled one of her pine dining chairs toward him, reversed it, then straddled it. He continued to study her, his arms folded along the top of the chair. A few moments passed before he held out his right hand, palm up. Obediently Rachel dropped the clamps into it. He gestured to her other hand too, and soon the weights were nestled alongside the fierce-looking little rubber-tipped jaws. Closing his fist around the nipple clamps, he lifted his gaze to hers.
“You have beautiful nipples. So pink, and round. And hard. We need them harder though. Much harder. Can you do that, Rachel?”
Rachel was puzzled, not sure what he intended as she glanced down to check on the general appearance of the nipples in question. They already looked pretty swollen to her. Callum continued, his voice low and sexy. Persuasive.
“Remember what I did yesterday, how it felt? When I held them between my fingers. And squeezed. Can you do that now? Take your nipples between your fingers and squeeze them. Hard. Really hard, Rachel.”
She frowned at him, not entirely sure she liked the way this was going. She’d expected to be more…passive. Another glance at Callum’s set features, his determined, commanding expression, and she knew that she was going to do exactly as he told her. Obediently she lifted her hands, lightly cupped each of her breasts.
“They are lovely. Squeeze your nipples, Rachel. Do it now, please.”
Unfailingly courteous, nevertheless the core of steel was there in his tone. She’d detected it before, or thought she had. Yesterday, just before he’d spanked her. Maybe other times as well. But here, now, it was a tone that would brook no disobedience. He clearly expected an immediate response.
Her eyes locked on his, Rachel tentatively took her already swollen but rapidly hardening nipples between her thumbs and the first and middle finger of each hand. She rubbed experimentally, then increased the pressure slightly. Callum nodded, approving, and waited. Rachel increased the pressure a little, closed her eyes as it felt—not quite uncomfortable, but getting there.
“Wimp.”
The word had been whispered, but she knew he was serious. She had to do more, turn up the dial. She squeezed harder, her bottom lip now curling inwards as she scraped her teeth over it. She continued to chew on her lip as she ratcheted up the pressure yet further, hurting in earnest now.
“Pull them too, at the same time. Toward me. Do it, Rachel. Do it hard.”
Her eyes watering, Rachel obeyed, her fingers shaking under the strain, her abused nipples throbbing in protest. She didn’t let up though, as she closed her eyes, tensed her mouth, and squeezed harder still.
At last, he seemed satisfied with her efforts. Standing, he moved his chair aside and stood before her. “Okay, hold that. Keep the pressure on.” Then, “Look at me, Rachel. Open your eyes.”
His gaze was steady, that deep, iridescent blue, as she lifted her lids, watched him through a haze of tears.
“I know this hurts, and when I put the clamps on it will hurt even more, just for a few moments. But you’re going to breathe slowly, breathe through the pain. It will pass. Endorphins will kick in soon, and you will be able to stand it. Okay?”
Rachel could only nod, unable to find her voice now even if he allowed her to speak.
“First the right. Let go, Rachel.” Callum gently prized her fingers apart to take the hard, tortured pebble in his own grip. His fingers stronger than Rachel’s he rolled her nipple firmly, then squeezed it again, harder still.
Rachel gasped, and couldn’t suppress the whimper of pain as he attached the first clamp. Despite the rubber tips the jaws bit cruelly into her nipple, the hard peak trapped, helpless as Callum ran his finger slowly around the distended tip. His eyes fixed on hers, his free hand gestured her to breathe, to draw air in slowly and ease it out. He waited, allowing her time to accept, to adjust. Then he leaned in to whisper, “Now, the left.”
Gently he unlocked her fingers from around her nipple and repeated the treatment he’d given to her right breast. A firm roll, a hard squeeze, and the clamp was in place, cruel, biting. Agonizing. Rachel cried out, her body stiff as he gripped the edge of the table. Callum tangled his hands in her hair, lifting her face for his kiss. He kissed her eyes first, then her wet cheeks, before settling his lips on her mouth.
His kiss was gentle, tender, calming, and Rachel drank it in as though she were dying of thirst. Her body shaking, her senses scrambling, she clung to Callum’s lips as her anchor. And it worked. Incredibly, whether the effect of his quiet, confident presence, or the merciful release of endorphins flooding her body, the edge went and the sharp, searing pain dulled to an
ache. A sure, relentless ache, but bearable. Just.
And Callum clearly knew the instant she reached it, that place in her head where this was possible. Lifting his mouth from hers he smiled at her, his eyes warm, seductive. He trailed his fingertips across her clamped nipples, and she winced, but more in reaction to the strangeness of this sensation than to the pain. She was less aware of that now, detached, as though it seemed to be happening to someone else. And she was watching, from the outside. She blinked, confused, then smiled. He really was so very, very beautiful, this man.
Callum released her nipples to trail his fingers along the length of light chain that connected the two clamps together and now dangled freely between her breasts. He tugged on it, lightly, and she gasped as the pressure increased, slightly, momentarily. Callum quickly attached one of the bullet-shaped weights to the chain, and flicked a switch at its base to start it vibrating. The tremors rippled through the links and into Rachel’s sensitized nipples. It was…incredible. Awesome. Cruel, and at the same time the most beautiful, exquisite sensation. Boneless suddenly, she started to drop backwards. Callum reached for her, his hands behind her shoulders steadying her as she lay back to savor this new, acute sensation.
Rachel lay on the table, her eyes closed, her nipples caressed, teased, tortured all at once. She made no sound now apart from her light moans, and her slight smile was her only reaction as he slipped his fingers into the elastic of her briefs and slid them down her legs. She offered no resistance as he parted her thighs.
She was aware that he straightened, and for a moment was not touching her. The sound of the chair scraping across her floor told her he was making himself comfortable. Well, she hoped so. She twitched as he parted her labia carefully, drew his thumb slowly around her clit, then flicked it lightly as if to make sure he had her undivided attention. He had. Oh yes, he certainly had. Then, apparently satisfied, he laid something hard and vibrating across the swollen little bud.
Rachel had a fleeting recollection of the second vibrating bullet he’d placed in her hand, but that was her final remotely coherent thought before she shot off into orbit.
She screamed, bucked under his hands, the wave of pleasure both overwhelming and terrifying. Callum was obviously ready for that reaction. He held the vibrator in place as he slid three fingers deep into her pussy. Rachel came, hard, fast, totally unglued as she clenched madly around him. He finger-fucked her, unerringly managing to hit that important spot deep within, as if determined to wring every last tingle of sensation from her writhing body.
At last, she was quiet again, more or less. He hadn’t yet withdrawn his fingers, they were still deep inside her, and he was lightly rubbing her clit with his thumb as the vibrator, its work done for the moment, lay harmlessly on the table top alongside Rachel’s bottom.
He slid his fingers out and Rachel cracked open her eyes in time to see him reaching for the tube of lubricant he must have laid out ready on the table. As she watched he oiled the fingers of his right hand. She didn’t move, but let her eyes drift closed again as he slid his middle finger down her cleft, probing for the tight little opening of her anus. Finding it, he circled lightly, not pressing, just…exploring. Testing. Rachel frowned, shifted, her eyes flickered open. Glancing up at her, Callum smiled.
“I won’t hurt you. I promise. Is this okay?” He continued to circle and probe, and ever so gently inserted just the tip of his middle finger. Rachel’s eyes widened, but she offered no protest. He pressed, and slid deeper, up to his first knuckle. Her eyes drifted shut again, and he slid home. Intensely aware of the entire length of his finger buried deep in her anus, Rachel lay still, accepting. She appreciated that Callum held it there for a few moments, allowing her the time she needed, letting her adjust. Then he withdrew, and thrust again, not fast, but firm, long, deep. And again.
She knew she was conquered. Totally accepting. He seemed to know it too and withdrew his finger. Rachel opened her eyes, watched him calmly as he reached for the vibrating bullet. Quickly he oiled it, then slid it deep inside Rachel’s now unresisting arse. She’d been expecting it but was still surprised momentarily by the cool hardness, then she gasped as he flicked the switch and her body was engulfed by the gentle, rhythmic tingling. The ripples were—everywhere, her entire body alive, electric. Callum gave her no time to acclimatize before he dropped his face to her cleft, drew his tongue along its entire length. He grazed her clit with his teeth, then took it in his mouth and suckled greedily.
Rachel’s second orgasm was as powerful as her first had been. She rocked and bucked under him, clawing his hair with her fingers as he rubbed. She writhed, desperate for more. Mindless now, she would not have remembered her own name, and forgot to breathe entirely. Her body was no longer her own, all sensation centered and focused on her cunt and her arse where vibrations pulsed and delicious suction drew her nerve endings into a tight little knot. Even as the waves of ecstasy died away, he was unrelenting, driving her on again. Every action, every quiver and stroke and lick was intensified by the constant pinch around her nipples and the delightful throbbing in her arse.
Not until he’d pushed her over the edge three times did Callum allow Rachel to drift back into something possibly resembling sensibility. But only for as long as it took him to slip his middle finger back into her arse to hook the tip through the loop on the still trembling bullet and pull it gently from her body. Rachel sighed—relaxed and sated.
The snap of the condom foil brought her drifting consciousness back to the here and now, and Rachel was dimly aware that Callum was now standing over her, between her legs. She forced her eyes open, saw his bare chest, admired again the strong contours and hard planes, so unlike her own body shape. She arched her back as he cupped her breasts with his palms, and shrieked as he released the clamps, first one, then the other. The blood supply suddenly restored, her nipples felt to be on fire. She was wriggling in pain so Callum leaned over her, his weight holding her still as he rubbed and massaged her bruised nipples.
Rachel’s eyes shot wide open as the head of his cock nudged her arse, pressing for entry. Despite her arousal, and her own desires, her body’s instinctive reaction was to close, to deny, to keep the intruder out. But it was too late, thank God, already much too late. With a slight increase in pressure her body surrendered, and his cock slid deep into her arse. She supposed he must have found an opportunity to lubricate himself in readiness to enter her, as he was slick and smooth and her body was strangely unresisting. He slid forward, firmly, inexorably, until his entire length was deep inside her. Satisfied for now, he stopped, held still, no doubt waiting for her mind and body to adjust to this new invasion, this latest discovery.
Her eyes flickered open again. Callum smiled, mouthed the word ‘okay?’, and she nodded, her eyes again closing as she drifted on a wave of sensual pleasure. As though sensing her surrender, relishing it, Callum started to thrust. He was unhurried, careful, and very, very gentle this first time. He slipped his hand between their bodies, his thumb on her clit scraping back and forth with each long, slow thrust.
She sighed, flexed her legs, lifted her hips slightly to better accept him, and tumbled easily, lazily, once more into her release. Callum felt his heart shift in his chest as he watched her. Could it be as quick, as simple…as easy as this? Was falling in love truly the work of a moment? Apparently so, because he’d just done it.
Chapter Nine
The next few weeks passed in a sensual haze for Rachel as her and Callum dropped into an easy routine. Callum usually turned up at around nine in the morning, and Rachel would more often than not have Jacob safely deposited at the child minder’s and coffee ready for him. Sometimes they’d spend the morning together, usually in her bedroom but over the course of those weeks they tried out pretty much every room in her house. The bathroom was especially popular, and Rachel blessed the day she’d decided to splurge on a large, claw-foot bath. Her pine kitchen table saw its fair share of action too. Afternoons were usually
work time for them both. Rachel would disappear into her home office, while Callum often left her to it to get on with other jobs. He’d given up any pretense of completing her rockery—they both knew the real status of that project, and it was no longer required.
One morning, about a week after their first encounter, Callum asked Rachel to wait downstairs while he made the preparations for their entertainment. She nodded, and got on with the washing up. He collected some tools from his van and went upstairs. She could hear him moving around above her head, the occasional whine of his electric drill, the rumble of furniture being shifted around. She was curious, but she did as she’d been told and stayed out of the way.
After about half an hour he came back downstairs, stopping to kiss her briefly as he passed through the kitchen on his way to dump his tools back in the van. He came back into the kitchen and pulled a chair away from the table. He turned it around and straddled it. He watched her, his arms folded casually and resting on the back as Rachel continued to load the dishwasher.
“Stop that, please.” Couched as a request, but an instruction, clearly.
Rachel obeyed, using a tea towel to dry her hands before coming to stand before him.
“Undress, please. Down to your underwear.” Again, an instruction. Courteous, polite, and utterly Dominant.
Again, Rachel obeyed. Just a couple of minutes later she was standing in the middle of her kitchen, wearing just her latest balcony-style black lace bra and matching thong. Callum’s deep blue gaze was heated as he indicated with a twirl of one upraised finger that she should turn around.
“I do like your taste in underwear. Christ, you’re lovely, Rachel. Where have you been hiding all this?”
Rachel shrugged, unsure whether he expected an answer or not. He didn’t always. Now seemed to be one of those occasions as he continued without waiting for a reply.