“What?”
“Your family.” She stopped, perhaps growing shy at the suddenly cold look in my eyes. “I mean, you never talked much about them. But your parents, what do they do?”
“My mother knew how to hustle.” I gave a dry laugh. “I don’t know about my dad. I never met him.”
“So, you don’t know. Maybe—?”
“No.” I cut her off. I didn’t like how much weight she placed on family, like what your family did defined you. I’d spent my whole life proving the opposite. I didn’t want to sit here with her speculations, like maybe I was a chip off the old block. My father was a dog who’d run out on his pregnant girlfriend, if she’d even been that to him. I didn’t know who he was and I had no interest in finding out.
“Look, we’re taking off.” I shifted on the couch, gesturing at the window and bringing a large thigh against her slender leg. She looked down, instantly riveted by our physical contact. She could feel it too, I realized, the intense electricity that ran between us. Even the slightest contact provoked a full charge.
Reaching over to her thigh, I placed a hand on her white jeans and began tracing the inside seam with my thumb. I didn’t reach too far up. It was the kind of gesture you could make in public without raising an eyebrow. But we were in private, the pilots up front in the cockpit, and this was just the beginning.
She sat up straight, her limbs becoming still and aware.
“Do you see the hotel?” I asked, reaching my other arm across her to point out the window. My bicep grazed her breast and I felt the heat of her through my shirt.
“Yes,” she murmured, drawing in her breath, her nipples growing taut. So responsive. It brought out the predator in me.
“Did you enjoy yourself in my hotel?” I asked, stroking steadily along the seam on her inner thigh.
“Yes,” she purred. While I enjoyed her happy chatter, I liked watching talking become more difficult for her, her body starting to take over and leave her mind blank.
“I like these jeans, Kara.” My palm moved now along both her thighs, admiring her, slowly stoking the fires, the cotton form-fitting and soft. “They mold to your curves.” My fingers came near the center of her V, but not quite touching. She parted her legs for me to allow more access, her breathing growing shallow.
“Did you buy them for me?”
“Yes.”
“Stand up and show me.” Shy, hesitant, she stood up. I motioned with my finger for her to turn around. I wanted to see her from all angles. Her ass was a work of art in those jeans. “Take them off,” I growled.
“But we’re on a plane!” Kara protested as if we were in the middle of coach surrounded by other passengers.
“Are you worried someone’s going to press the call button? An air marshal’s going to come arrest you?” Her eyes flitted around the plane’s interior as if testing out the likelihood of those scenarios.
“It’s just you and me, sweetheart,” I confirmed. “The pilots are up in the cockpit. They’re not coming back here.” I turned the force of my dark gaze on her. “It’s time for you to strip down the way I want. Give me your foot.” She stretched out one of her legs. I grasped her ankle in my hand. “First these have to come off.” I reached down to her gold high-heeled sandals, fumbling with the straps.
Laughing, she pushed my hands out of the way. “Your fingers are so big.”
I let her do the work. She nimbly yet nervously unfastened her shoes. As she bent over, she gave me a glimpse of her breasts cupped in her bra. Not for long. Once the heels came off, she rose, still uncertain, a hand on the couch. Slowly, she unfastened her jeans. I loved the first glimpse at her lingerie, the bit of lace that emerged as she pulled the jeans down along the curves of her hips. Cream lace, simple, skimpy. Nice.
She took them off entirely and lay them on the couch.
“Now put these on again.” I held up the strappy heels to her, dangling from one of my fingers.
Hesitant, she retrieved them from me, then slipped into the pair. I liked watching her bend over, twisting slightly as she fastened the buckles, her hair still up in a demure ponytail. With those long legs she certainly didn’t require the heels to look like a knockout, but there was something about heels paired with lingerie and nothing else. I felt myself growing hard, a long, thick erection pressing against my jeans.
“That’s good.” I shifted in my seat and unfastened my top button. My cock strained for release. “Now take off your shirt.”
Nervous, excited, she looked at my crotch, unbuttoned yet still zipped. I knew without saying it again, she was thinking about what I’d said this morning. She needed to take her punishment. Her lips parted sweetly. Oh, what I had planned for that lush mouth. She was thinking about it, all right, and she wanted it as much as I did.
Complying with my command, she lifted her shirt up and overhead, then tossed it lightly next to her jeans on the couch. I swallowed. Soft, lush curves wrapped in creamy lace, naughty and nice all at once, like Kara herself. Flushed and jittery, she stood before me, a heady mixture of nerves and arousal as she displayed herself. I knew her well. She needed me to help bring out this side of her, access the deep well of pleasure she had hidden within.
“Turn around and show me,” I ordered, my voice growing gruffer with desire. Her panties skimmed the swell of her buttocks, rising up and dipping down. I wanted to trace the outline with my tongue, rip them off with my teeth.
By the time she turned back to face me, her nipples were peaked, swollen and straining at the fabric.
“Come here.” She took a slow step toward me. My cock grew harder as I spread apart my large, muscled legs. “Kneel.”
She sucked in her breath at my primal demand. Then she knelt down on one knee, then the other, right between my legs. Her eyes flitted to the massive bulge in my jeans. I brought my hand down and ran a thumb along my thick length. Her eyes widened as she followed the movement.
“Kara.” My voice, low and controlled, stroked her. “This morning, you touched yourself for me. Do you remember how you did that? Stripped naked and kneeling before me, your hand in your pussy?”
“Yes.” Her voice came out in a hushed, beckoning moan. She brought a hand to rest lightly along my inner thigh.
“Hands by your sides,” I stopped her. She froze, then returned her errant hand, fingers back to graze her outer thigh. She had to learn who was in control. “Now, you and I need to discuss something.” I kept my voice firm, disciplined. “Do you remember this morning? When I came on your tits?”
“Yes, and I—”
“Answer only what I ask you, Kara,” I commanded. “Do you remember when I came on your tits?”
“Yes.” Her lips closed and she looked up at me shyly. The more she showed how much she loved me taking control, the further I wanted to go.
“Think about it. I’m going to ask you a question and you need to be completely honest with me. Did you like it, Kara?” She moaned, swaying slightly. “Did you like the feel of my come dripping off of your tits?”
“Yes,” she panted, aroused by her confession. Her breasts strained against the creamy lace, her nipples hard.
“I marked you, Kara,” I continued, my voice low, level, controlled. “You’re mine. Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she readily agreed.
“Good,” I growled, her compliance feeding my hunger. “Now show me your tits.” Swiftly, she did as I asked, removing her bra. She knelt before me, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, naked and full. I brought one finger to the bottom of her swells. She shivered, her eyes closing.
“Your breasts are very sensitive, Kara. Even the slightest touch brings you great sensation. That’s very good.”
I removed my hand and reached over for my bag, feeling her watching me. I brought out a black leather case and rested it on the fabric between my legs.
“Open it.”
With shaking hands, she reached out as if it might bite her. I shifted in my seat, my cock already throbbing as
I thought about what was to come. She lifted the lid and sat back, clearly not knowing what to make of the contents.
“What is that?”
“Are those,” I corrected, taking the black implements out of the case. “These are nipple clamps.”
“What?” She straightened up.
“Clamps. For your nipples. A starter pair. To begin your training.” Lightweight and plastic, they were meant for breaking in a new sub, to accustom her to the feel without too much pain. I held them up so Kara could see the shape, the small circles perfect for her.
“Declan, I’ve never…I’m not sure—”
“I want you to wear these for me, Kara.” I interrupted, reaching out to cup one of her large, soft globes in my hand. Grasping her aroused, dark pink nipple between my thumb and forefinger, I swirled, then pinched. I cherished the gasp she made, the way she arched into the pain. She might be frightened, embarrassed by the sex toy. She didn’t think she was that kind of girl. But I knew better. She’d love every second of it, the submission, the pain, the throbbing need that built inside of her solely under my control, for my pleasure.
“They’re adjustable,” I explained, bringing the black clamp to her pale, white flesh. “I’ll start them on a light setting. I want you to be aware of yourself, your tits. How I can see your arousal.” I brought the small plastic circle around her engorged nipple and fastened it. She sucked in her breath, shaking at my touch.
“That’s good, Kara.” I brought a hand to the back of her head, stroking her hair. She swayed into my touch. The sight of her eyes half-closed, her naked body before me, the black clamp fastened on her pink bud burned into my brain.
I brought the second clamp up to her remaining nipple and secured it around the pebbled tip, tight. She hissed, looking down at the erotic display.
“You’re going to wear these for me on the flight, Kara. You were a very naughty girl this morning. You came without my permission.” An aroused whimper escaped her lips.
“This is your punishment,” I continued. “Are you ready to take your punishment from me?”
She paused, biting her lush lip. Kneeling before me, she slowly looked up and met my eyes. “Yes,” she breathed out as if unable to stop herself from saying it.
I brought a finger up to one clamp, drawing her attention to the adjustable size. “I can tighten them any time I want.” I grasped the strap and pulled. She gasped and quaked, her bud clamped tight. It was still on one of the loosest settings. I could make the loop a lot smaller, constrict the blood far more, make her squirm with discomfort and need. I closed the other clamp a notch as well.
I stroked her cheek, rewarding her for taking the punishment, and she leaned into my touch with a moan. “I can tighten these more,” I warned her and she shivered. “I want you to think about that while you sit here.”
I brought my palm to my side, touching the spot where she’d been sitting before. Without my having to say it, she obeyed my wishes and came to sit next to me, naked except for her lacy panties, high heels and nipple clamps.
“Now, I have some work to do. You sit still like a good girl.” All business, I took out my laptop from my briefcase. I swiveled out a flat work surface from underneath the couch, then opened my computer onto it. I had a couple of reports to look through, some financials to oversee. Most of all, I wanted to make her wait for it.
My attention focused on the screen, I scrolled through and made a few changes to documents. Kara sat beside me and squirmed. I hoped the couch’s leather felt cool against her ass, the lace of her panties pressed up against her wet pussy. I bet she was getting embarrassed and worried, wondering if I’d dip my fingers between her legs to check on her arousal. And I would, just not yet. For now, I’d let it build.
Her first time in nipple clamps, she had to be feeling it intensely. I could see her breath coming in shallow pants, her large breasts quivering above her moving ribcage. Her hands traced along the couch as if she didn’t know where to put them. Her gaze kept drifting down to her own chest, the black clamps standing out against her white breasts, her nipples protruding far out, fastened and displayed for my perusal.
Only I wasn’t looking. My attention was focused elsewhere, and she was getting frustrated. I could tell in the way she shifted her weight, the way her palms rubbed her thighs then stopped. She didn’t know what to do with herself.
I stood up and fixed myself a glass of water, adding several cubes of ice. Without looking at her, I sat back down and returned to my work. I picked up my water glass and took a sip. Then I casually brought it over to her breast and pressed the icy glass against her stiff nipple. So sensitive and exposed, she gasped and cried out.
I brought the glass back down to the work surface again and returned my hands to the laptop. I could hear her panting, feel her eyes flitting over to the bulge pressing against my jeans. I was hard as a rock. Good, I wanted her to keep looking over, see what I had in store for her. Make her wait and feel how I controlled her.
Impatience finally winning out, she reached out her hand and placed her fingers right at my crotch. I turned to her and she could tell from the look in my eyes, she shouldn’t have done it. She withdrew her hand. Too late. She’d disobeyed orders.
I stood up and withdrew a long, black band from a bag overhead.
“Stand up,” I commanded, firm. She stood, shaking. “Turn around.” Once she had her back facing me, I pulled her wrists behind her and tied them together, tight.
“Naughty girl,” I reprimanded her, pulling her back hard against me, her ass up against my engorged cock. “So dirty, Kara.” I trailed my fingers down her flat stomach to the top of her panties. She gasped, her tits thrust out, the black nipple clamps doing their work. “Naughty girls get their hands tied. So they can take their punishment.”
She moaned as my hands roamed the heated silk of her flesh, displayed for my enjoyment, her hands pinned behind her back. Then I walked over to the table and grabbed a chair. I placed it before me. “Sit.”
She did as I instructed, perching on the edge. I sat back down, picked up my laptop and continued to do some work. Squirming, panting, shifting her weight, she stayed on the chair completely bare except for heels, panties and nipple clamps.
Finally, I’d had enough. I put my computer to the side and folded up the work surface. Then I settled back against the sofa and watched her sitting there, so perfect, so bound and constrained and awaiting release.
“Kara,” I caressed her with my voice. “I like seeing you wear nipple clamps for me.” She licked her lips. “Come here and sit on my lap.”
She complied instantly, as if she’d been waiting eagerly for me to say it. I wrapped a hand around her small waist and stroked my fingers along her milky, soft skin. As I circled her breasts, both of us looked down at the black clasps around her hard tips.
“Kara,” I murmured. “Is your punishment making you wet?” She didn’t answer, ducking her head to the side as if to avoid my question.
I chuckled. “Oh, Kara, do you think you can play coy with me?” With a strong hand, I held her hip fastened against me. Then I trailed a finger down her stomach, down her panties, until I reached the center right between her thighs. I hissed through my teeth as I discovered the silk soaked through, molded against her pussy. Pulling the fabric to the side, I ran my fingers along her slick folds. She quaked against me, sighing and ready.
I brought my fingers back up in front of her face, glistening from her own arousal. “Do you see how wet you are? From my punishment?” She moaned, mortified and turned on, shaking in my arms. “Naughty girl. You like your punishment, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her arousal overwhelming her embarrassment.
“I’m going to tighten them, Kara.” I brought my hands up to her breasts, palming them, lifting them up and out. “Can you take that for me, Kara? Tighter?”
“Ooh, yes.” I could practically feel the rush of juice forming between her legs, the pouring, pounding heat.
She held her breath as I tightened the clamps yet again.
“Kneel,” I commanded. Shaking, flushed, hands tied behind her back, tits thrust out, she knelt down between my open thighs.
I stood, undid my fly and stepped out of my jeans and briefs. She gasped as my erect shaft sprang free, her gaze heavy-lidded with thick desire. I sat back down on the couch in front of her and took my huge cock in my hand. She looked up at me with wide, adoring eyes, worshipping me. How I loved that look, loved how she was always wet for me. I stroked myself, watching her there displayed for me, bound and clamped. She arched toward me and whimpered.
“I think it’s time I taught you how to suck my cock, Kara. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” she moaned.
“Yes, I think you would. I like the idea of you sucking me on my private plane. And I think I want your hands free to do it right.” I leaned down and unfastened her ties.
Looking up at me, tentative, excited, she brought a hand to my inner thigh, then up to circle her fingers around my bulging, hard prick. I tensed under the contact and made a low groan of pleasure. She inched closer, positioning herself directly between my legs, growing bolder now as she brought both hands to my member. One hand at the base, she used the other up at the tip, her fingers gently caressing my head. She looked at my cock in admiration, as if amazed to see its swollen length up close, its intimidating size. She licked her lips and parted them.
I watched her with heavy eyelids, almost feeling as if I were dreaming. I’d thought about this so often, spent so many nights fantasizing about Kara’s mouth hot and wet, sucking my rock-hard cock.
Her first, tentative kiss nearly sent me over the edge. Fluttery soft, she brought her mouth to me to explore, to adore. She flicked her tongue out over my head, then finally took me partially into her eager, slick mouth.
“Kara,” I exhaled and leaned back, eyes closed to the building sensations. This was what I wanted. This was what I needed. She took more of me into her mouth, sucking, swirling her tongue along my rigid length, moving her lips along me as she withdrew then took me in again. The heady mix of her inexperience and desire drove me wild. I knew I’d said I’d teach her, but every second of what she was doing was perfection, using her mouth to taste and lick and suck. She took her time, licking along my length, using a tongue and finger to trace a vein, then back to the tip to swirl around the head and take me back into her wet depths.
Unleashed #3 Page 3