by Lauren Smith
“You mean BDSM?” Saying the word had her pulse racing.
“Yes. Do you remember my telling you about ‘yellow’ and ‘red’ and when to use them?”
She swallowed and nodded. Excitement skittered through her.
“I’m not going to let you hide. Do you understand? I plan to strip you bare in seconds and restrain you to my bed. If that is too much, tell me now.”
“No…no intense pain,” she whispered. “That is my hard limit.”
He nodded once. “I agree. I would have not wished to do that, even if you’d begged me to. I may be a momentary sadist only with regard to spankings. Anything beyond that is too dark even for me.” The conviction in his tone reassured her. Neither of them was into pain. That was a relief.
“Anything else?”
“No choking.” That was the only other thing she knew for sure she couldn’t handle.
Wes gently gripped her throat, but didn’t squeeze. “What about gags? Any problems there?” he asked, his eyes fixed on her mouth, his thumb caressing the hollow spot in her throat.
Gags? Was she actually having this conversation? “What kind?” Her voice was church-mouse quiet.
“Something light, enough to slightly muffle any sound you make.” His hand moved upward so his thumb could caress her lips, trace the seam of her mouth as though imagining what it would be like to gag her. “It’s the muffled sounds I crave, nothing that restricts breathing. Just a slight softening of your pleasured cries.”
The idea of her on a bed, slightly gagged, crying out, and him above her, slamming into her, hard and aroused into a state of wild abandon…Callie clamped her legs together. She liked the idea as much as he did. What the hell was wrong with her?
“If we use a gag, then I would provide you with something you can squeeze that will alert me to a red or yellow safe word.”
Callie fingered her navy blue blouse, and then looked up at him. “I might be okay with that.”
The flash of approval in his eyes made her belly quiver with renewed excitement.
“Are you really ready for this?” Wes asked one last time. “My rules?”
She nodded. “Your rules.” She swallowed. “Just remember, I haven’t done this before.”
He stepped closer, tipped her chin up, and invaded her space until his heat radiated into her body, warming her, surrounding her.
“Don’t worry, you’ll do fine. That’s the beauty of surrendering to me. I’m in charge and I’ll tell you exactly what to do. You won’t be able to disappoint me, only please me, and in pleasing me, I’ll please you beyond all doubt. Now, one last important question. Are you on birth control? I am regularly tested and am clean.”
Birth control? Right. That snapped her out of the hazy dreams of his body on top of hers.
“I have an IUD.” She bit her lip, then added, “I’m clean.” Which was obvious since she’d never been with anyone before.
“Good, because I plan to ride you bare,” he growled, and then he was kissing her, hard, wild. She moaned against him, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. Seconds later, she heard a violent ripping sound and a sudden breeze cooled her upper body. She dropped her hands and pulled away in shock.
Her shirt hung off her arms in two swaths of cloth. Wes had ripped it clean in two.
“That was one of my new shirts! How about a new hard limit: no ripping of my blouses,” she protested as she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide her breasts, even though they were concealed by her bra. A ripple of heat moved through her at the realization that the more he stripped her of her clothes, the more vulnerable she became.
“I’ll buy you a dozen more.” He unbuttoned her jeans, tugged the zipper down, and then peeled her jeans off her legs. She wobbled on her feet as the pants caught around her ankles and she gripped his shoulders for support.
“Hold on, darling,” he warned.
With a little shriek, she was hoisted into the air and tossed onto the bed on her back. Jeans, socks, and shoes gone, she was left in nothing but her bra and panties. Covering herself instantly with her hands and crossing her legs, she jerked as he lunged for her. One hand fisted in her panties and he ripped them clear off. Callie’s legs clamped together and she held fast to the bra.
“Callie, move your hands,” he ordered.
Oh God. She dropped her hands and held her breath as he leaned over her and unbuttoned the front clasp at the center of her bra. The cups fell apart, exposing her completely to his view. He simply stared at them for a long moment, and then a dark, masculine smile of pride curved his lips. A little tremor wracked her as she fought off her desire to cover herself.
“There is no shame or embarrassment here. Only beauty. You are beautiful.” He cupped one of her breasts, and then pinched her nipple, just enough that a zing of pleasure-pain shot straight through her. Instant wetness followed as he continued to play with her.
“I will play you, Callie, just like a Stradivarius violin. I’ll figure out what makes you sing, sigh, and scream in pleasure.”
His words burned her inside like the whiskey she’d stolen once from her father’s liquor cabinet.
He removed his sweater, shoes, and socks and then crawled up on the bed in just his pants until he was beside her.
“Be brave for me,” he murmured and then kissed her again.
She opened her mouth to him, losing herself in his taste. It was easier to forget that she was completely naked with him when he kissed her. His kisses turned from playful to deeply passionate, carnal. His hands were everywhere, stroking, exploring—rough, then tender. She couldn’t adjust to the caresses but could only experience each sensation as it happened. She jolted upright when he suddenly slid his hand between her legs and teased the entrance of her folds.
“Easy, darling,” he said between kisses as he thrust one finger inside her. She arched up and he bent his head to her breast, pressing soft kisses to the sensitive flesh before he sucked on her nipple. The feel of it was too good, too much but she still needed more. She hissed in pleasure as he bit the peak. Wes laughed softly, as though delighted by her reaction. She wrapped her arms around his neck, then slid her hands into his hair to hold him to her in silent encouragement.
“Ready for more?” he asked.
“Yes!” She gasped without thinking.
He got up off the bed so suddenly that she lay there in a daze of confused passion as he strode to his dresser and opened the top drawer. He dug around in the drawer before he turned and came back to her. In his hands he held a pair of leather cuffs lined with fur. Callie started to sit up and he froze her in place with one dark look.
“Wrists up,” he instructed. “Spread eagle.” He gestured to where he wanted her to reach, the posts of the bed by her head. She did as he commanded. The beating of her heart was hard enough that she could feel every pulse beneath every inch of her skin as she tried to catch her breath.
As he walked to the head of the bed, he trailed one lazy fingertip from her shin up her body to her chin and then he pushed slightly up so she tilted her head back to watch him.
“Good girl,” he murmured and then he took hold of her right wrist, fastening the leather cuff around it. A silver link on one side folded out from the warm brown leather. The furry insides of the cuff were soft and she knew it would be hard to bruise herself in them. Wes bent and reached under the bed for something she couldn’t see. It clinked as he removed it.
A small chain.
Her mouth dried and her thighs quivered with forbidden longing.
He clicked a hook to her right wrist’s cuff and then chained it to the bedpost.
“Pull on the chain,” he instructed.
Callie gave a little tentative tug. Satisfied, he moved around the room and secured her other wrist the same way. Then Wes returned to the side of the bed and cupped her cheek.
“Fight the cuffs and chains, give it everything you’ve got,” he demanded. There was an almost frightening fire to his eyes and Ca
llie panicked on pure animal instinct. She was his prey. Trapped.
Fighting, jerking, clawing, she thrashed for several seconds, but finally completely exhausted, she fell back onto the bed, panting, covered in a light sheen of sweet. Restrained. At his mercy.
Chapter 12
You can’t escape. There’s no way out now.” He caged her body beneath his as he leaned over the bed and kissed her. Biting her bottom lip, he sucked it into his mouth before ravaging her lips.
“Helpless, my sweet little Callie, so trusting, so brave. Now you are truly mine.” Wes’s words sounded like a promise of dark, erotic things to come as he gave her one more drugging kiss.
Her body trembled, fear and excitement taking over completely. What did he plan to do to her?
Wes straightened and walked to the edge of the bed. His hands snaked out, gripping her ankles. He was too strong, could easily control her now. Her breathing turned to soft pants as her desire for him and her excitement flowed through her.
“Keep them open or I’ll paddle your ass a rich shade of red.” It was her only warning. He bent over the bed and wedged his shoulders between her knees. She tensed. “Relax,” he encouraged more gently.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. She could do this. His palms skated down her inner thighs and his warm breath fanned her exposed sex. A little shudder of vulnerability and awareness rippled through her. He lifted one eyebrow at her when her legs trembled beneath his hands. Her legs almost started to jerk closed, but he pressed harder on her, keeping them open as he held her still on the bed.
Callie lifted her head a little more so she could look down the length of her body. What she saw stole her breath.
Wes, poised above the most secret part of her where none had seen or touched her before. His disheveled hair fell across his eyes as he breathed deeply. His shoulder muscles tensed and moved with each small adjustment he made as he drew closer. His long dark brown lashes fanned up as he met her gaze. He was all masculine power, all raw lust and desire, like a sex god. Inescapable, completely consuming. And he wanted her. Whatever he saw in her own face seemed to encourage him because he bent his head and licked.
The gasp that escaped her was loud and shaky. The sensation was strange, warm, and soft, yet each lick shot her to a wild edge of need. He licked again, a different spot, a light thrusting of his tongue, a circular teasing and then a sucking on her tender bud. That was all it took. She burned to flames as a powerful orgasm swept through her, but he didn’t stop. He added one finger, pushing it into her swollen channel, drawing out the ecstasy until she quivered helplessly around him, unable to think past his touch and the feel of his hands on her body.
Then he unfastened his jeans and lowered them down his hips, taking his black briefs off with them. Callie tensed at the sight of his cock. The man was hung. There was no way he’d fit inside her.
“Don’t get scared now,” he chuckled. “Too late for that.” He held out a strip of cloth, a blindfold, and then climbed over her, sealing it over her eyes and knotting it behind her head. She felt like a horse with blinders on, not sure what was going on around her. The sudden surge of panic hit her like a freight train and she started panting.
“Wes…Wes I…”
A fingertip pressed her lips closed. “Deep breaths. I swore not to hurt you, except for the obvious part of taking your virginity. You must trust me, Callie. The loss of sight is to decrease your fear and heighten your senses.” His voice was clear, almost in her ear, so rich and seductive that her body sagged back on the bed, much more relaxed by his assurances. She listened for sounds but couldn’t make out what he was doing. Soft classical music began to play, which meant he must have turned on the sound system on the dresser. Rustling, like the sound of things being removed from plastic packages, was soon covered by the increasing volume of the music.
“Art is not always pencils on paper or paint on canvas. Art is any form of perfection.” Wes’s voice was close again and she felt his warm breath by her ear. “Listen to the music. Embrace every note, every melody and countermelody. Feel the soul of the music. What do you see when you hear it?” Something soft, like silk drifted down her neck, like a fingertip, but it didn’t feel like skin to skin, but something softer.
“What is that?” she demanded.
Wes chuckled. “I’ll allow that one question, but no more questions when I blindfold you. Answer with ‘yes, sir.’”
“Y—yes, sir.” The word “sir,” a word of power and respect, made her feel a little nervous and excited at the same time. Not because she wanted to be subservient to him, but it was comforting to feel like he was in charge here and she only had to obey him to please him. It removed a lot of pressure from her as to what to do.
“Good girl. Now what you are feeling?” He paused, dragged the object in slow swirls on and around one of her nipples and it pebbled at the stimulation. “That is a paintbrush dipped in cold water.” The sliver of the brush’s tip swept over her nipple again, and she hissed at the coldness and how it made her come alive. “Now, tell me what you think. How does it feel?”
She waited a moment, trying to sort out what she felt. “It feels good, but in a sharp way,” she whispered, a little shy for expressing what she felt sensually.
His chuckle rasped over her bare skin. “I may have no artistic talent, but I do enjoy this and I believe I do it quite well,” he mused aloud and then his mouth left a trail of hot kisses up her throat, her chin, and then to her mouth.
The strings of the classical piece were bittersweet, a hint of sorrow and the promise of hope. Images filled her head and her heart as all she could do was listen, feel, and kiss Wes. There was a fluttering excitement of exploring Paris with Wes…exploring herself with him…
The bed shifted as Wes climbed over her and her thighs were nudged apart with gentle but firm hands. The blindfold was tugged from her eyes and she blinked dazedly. He was above her, arms braced on either side of her head and she felt him. A small nudge against her resistant flesh.
“Tell me what you can feel,” he growled as he shifted inside her another inch. Callie moaned at the foreign sensation.
“I feel good…but I ache.” It was all so—a swift thrust of his hips and she cried out at the stabbing pain. He silenced her with his lips, swallowing any noises she might have made.
“It’ll be over soon,” he murmured soothingly, coiling one hand in her hair as he held still inside her. “Focus on my mouth and the music,” he urged and then slanted his mouth over hers again.
“So much pain,” she whimpered against his lips. It was like a hot poker stabbing her inside.
“Shhhh.” He kissed her. “Relax and kiss me.”
She tried to do as he commanded. And then she heard it. The soft trill of birds. Her birds. The sweet little noises they made and the sound melted her, calmed her. Her knees clasped around Wes’s narrow hips, but out of encouragement rather than pain.
“Better?” he asked. His blue eyes were electric, sparking with desire and yet shadowed with worry.
She gave a jerky little nod. “Better.”
His body rocked back and then forward and the sensation stung a little but it was more comfortable now than painful. Wes slid a hand between their bodies and circled her clit with a fingertip. The added sensation kicked her body into a hungry need for more. A flood of wet heat eased his entrance into her body and he must have sensed it and he began to fuck her, slow, deep penetrations that made them both share moans each time he drove into the hilt.
“God,” he groaned. “You feel like heaven.”
Callie felt a blush heat her cheeks. “You feel good, too.” She wasn’t at all sure what a girl was supposed to say to a man making love to her, but she wanted him to know how good he felt. The weight of his body, the way her knees clutched his hips, the way he was in complete control. Every move he made ratcheted her pleasure higher and higher. She attempted to raise her hips a few times.
“I’ve dreamed about this, Callie,”
he confessed in a dark whisper, his face inches above hers. “Taking you to bed and fucking you in a thousand ways. I had no idea how good it would feel, how good you feel, wrapped so tight around me. God, it’s incredible.”
She squeezed her inner muscles in sheer reactive instinct to his word, and he cursed, but his face was taut with pleasure not anger.
“Do that again, when I’m all the way inside,” he coached and rammed back into her. Their hips pressed pelvis to pelvis until no inch separated them, they were as close as two people could get. A strange emotion filled her chest and spread outward as she stared up at Wes. It was partly heat, but something softer, deeper, more lasting and more frightening because it would not easily fade. Being with him, not just physically, but here in Paris, touring, laughing, living…it was starting to hold a meaning for her, a purpose. Something she’d never thought she’d have outside the ranch in Colorado.
Wes had made that possible.
“What are you thinking about?” He withdrew from her and slid back in. The roll of his hips was leisurely as he nuzzled her cheek and then stole an openmouthed kiss before allowing her to answer.
“You, only you,” she whispered as pleasure started to creep into her. A climax was close, like a shadow behind a thin curtain. She had but to pass through the filmy barrier. Just a little harder, a little rougher. “Don’t be so gentle,” she said, giving a little feminine growl.
Wes lost control. Her answer spurred him into a frenzy. He pinned her wrists to the bed, even though she was already chained. His hips pummeled against hers and she could only accept the pace and his power as he drove into her again and again. When the orgasm hit her, he came only a second later, both of them fighting for breath. The world around her shattered like a dying star, exploding with light and warmth. She almost swore her body floated back down to the bed from a place in the clouds. Above her Wes dropped heavily against her, barely able to hold himself up. His usually cool, seductive hardness was gone. In its place was a look of wonder and fascination tinged with wariness.