BDSM Club Series Box Set

by Claire Thompson

  Cam nodded, as he did in fact share the philosophy. “Then there’s the complication of me being a nurse and you a doctor,” he offered, saving her the trouble of stating the obvious.

  He was pleased when Marissa shrugged this away. “Oh, that’s not an issue. Not for me.” She regarded him with those lovely blue-green eyes. “Is that a problem for you?”

  Cam shook his head. “Not in the slightest. Though it might be an issue for some others—staff consorting and all that.”

  “Want to know what I think?” Marissa said, lifting her chin.

  “I do,” Cam said, fighting the urge to reach across the table and kiss her. “Tell me.”

  “I think we’re both mature adults who have made an unusual connection outside the workplace.”

  “Unusual, yes,” Cam agreed, smiling.

  “I think we’re both professional enough to behave on the job as if nothing has changed. I don’t know about you, but I’d just as soon not offer myself as sacrificial grist for the Janices of this world to run through their gossip mill. So if it works for you, I’d like to see more of you, too. At work, we’re just Dr. Roberts and Nurse Wilder. What we do on our own time…” She let the sentence trail away.

  “Is our own business,” Cam supplied. He lifted his coffee cup aloft. “To new beginnings,” he said.

  Marissa lifted her cup and lightly touched it to his. “To new beginnings,” she replied.

  Chapter 7

  They stood in front of her apartment building and watched the cab pull away from the curb. Cam had said he’d take the subway to his place once he’d seen her safely inside. Marissa didn’t want the evening to end, though at the same time she was conflicted. Should she invite Cam up to her apartment? Was that tantamount to admitting she wanted him to stay the night? Did she?

  She’d been lobbing the idea back and forth in her mind as they rode from the café to her apartment. In the backseat, Cam had put his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him, marveling at the perfect fit. She was still high from the whole inner room experience, not to mention how easy Cam had been to talk to afterward. But did that mean they should just tumble into bed? Did he expect her to make the first move? Or, as the Dom in the relationship—Relationship? Slow down, girl!—would he be appalled by her forwardness?

  Marissa had made a rule for herself several years back that worked well for her—no sex on the first date. She’d succumbed too many times to the persistence of guys she barely knew, guys who were thinking with their cocks and just wanted to get what they could while the getting was good. More often than not, she regretted her decision afterward, and couldn’t wait to get the near-stranger she’d somehow thought she was attracted to out of her bed and out of her life.

  Loneliness, too much to drink, the desire to be held, the need to just let go—none of those were good enough reasons to fall into bed with a guy she’d just met.

  But she hadn’t just met Cam. They worked together. She’d been able to observe him on the unit for the past several weeks. He was a genuine person—a kind and compassionate nurse. He wasn’t a serial killer or some horny, desperate type who would ejaculate as soon as his cock touched a woman’s bare thigh.

  Then there was the session in the inner room. The way he’d touched her—so sensual, yet so dominant. Her every instinct had thrilled to him, even when she’d thought he was gay. She wanted to see him naked. She wanted to run her hands over his muscular body. She wanted to feel his cock inside her, his comforting, masculine weight on top of her. She wanted to make him ache for her, as she already did for him. He was twenty-nine, she was thirty-two. They weren’t kids. What was she waiting for?

  Cam shoved his hands into his pockets. There was a light wind, and his hair blew into his eyes. His lips were parted as if he were about to speak. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to kiss her.

  Fuck her self-imposed rules.

  “Want to come up?” she said before she could stop herself.

  Cam spoke at the same moment. It took a second for her brain to unscramble what he’d said at the same time as she. “I’ll say goodnight, then, Marissa.”

  “Oh!” she said, feeling the heat rise in her face.

  Cam looked a little embarrassed too, but he smiled. “It’s better if we say goodnight, I think.” His tone was kind, which somehow compounded her humiliation. “You’ve got a lot to process. The session—everything you experienced—sometimes it’s easy to confuse desire for what someone offers with desire for the person himself.” He paused a beat, as if expecting Marissa to say something. She wasn’t about to help him in his rejection. She stared at him. He smiled and reached to stroke her cheek, and in spite of herself, Marissa leaned into his touch.

  “I want you, Marissa. Please don’t think I don’t. I know if I came up with you now, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you. You’re beautiful, bright, passionate, submissive—everything I want in a woman. That’s why I don’t want to fuck it up by moving too fast with you. It’s late. I want you to get some sleep, take a little time to put things into perspective. Maybe we could go for breakfast in the morning? See where we stand in the light of day?”

  Marissa knew he was right. In fact she did need some time to process the amazing events of the evening. What she was feeling might be no more than a rush of infatuation. Maybe she was just so excited about her own submissive discoveries that she was confusing that with desire for the man who had bound her, flogged her, made her heart pound and her entire body vibrate with longing…

  Cam was watching her again in that way he had, his full attention on her as if nothing else existed in the world. She forced a smile and shrugged. “Sure. Yeah. Breakfast sounds good.” Standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek and then turned abruptly away, fumbling for her keys and turning the lock.

  She got the door open, and Cam was just behind her, opening it farther for her, the perfect gentleman. “Marissa.” He put his hands on her shoulders and spun her gently toward him. He took her in his arms and lightly kissed her mouth, then let her go. They had exchanged cell phone numbers earlier in the evening, and he said, “Call me in the morning? Promise?”

  Marissa nodded, feeling a little better. He was just being sensible. It was good that someone was, since she was ready to shuck her clothing right there in the lobby and throw herself at him. “Yeah. In the morning. Get home safe.”

  She turned and walked toward the elevator bank, forbidding herself to look back. She pressed the button. The ancient elevator lurched noisily from somewhere overhead and began its descent. When the door opened, she started to step inside, but suddenly strong hands gripped her shoulders and she was whirled to face Cam, who pulled her once more into his arms.

  “Who am I kidding?” he said, as he buried his face in her hair. “I can’t leave you. If I have to wait until tomorrow to kiss you, I’m afraid my body will spontaneously combust. Can I come up? Please, beautiful Marissa, can I make love to you?”

  Marissa laughed and pulled him into the waiting elevator car. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  ~*~

  Cam managed to wait until Marissa got the door to her apartment open, but that was about all he could manage. She barely flicked on the light and shut the door when he grabbed her shoulders and pressed her against the wall, holding her in place with his mouth on hers while his hands roamed feverishly over her body.

  Marissa was panting against him. He slipped his fingers under the silky top and the lace of her bra. Cam grasped her erect nipples and gave each one a twist. Her breathy gasp went straight to his cock, which was already hard as steel.

  “I want you,” he murmured, taking one hand from her breast and slipping it beneath her skirt. He slid his fingers between her legs, pulling at her damp panties and pressing a finger into the clutch of her tight cunt. Marissa groaned, the sound primal and raw.

  Cam reached for the hem of her skirt and flipped it upward to her waist. She gasped but made no move to resist him. He grabbed the lacy p
anties with the intention of pulling them down, but the force of his grip ripped the flimsy lace, so he just pulled the torn panties from her body and tossed them away. He forced her legs wider with his knee and continued to stroke her now-bared cunt, sliding his fingers in and out of the slippery wetness. He could smell her desire, ripe and feminine, and his cock strained in his pants.

  Her knees started to give way, and he placed a steadying hand on her shoulder to hold her in place. Her head was tilted to the side, her eyes closed, her mouth slack. He ground his palm against her clit while continuing to stroke her from the inside out. Marissa’s moans shifted to grunting little cries.

  Unable to hold back a moment longer, Cam reached for his fly and yanked it down. With one hand still at her sex, he managed to pull down his pants and underwear far enough for his purposes. Gripping her by the hips, he guided his throbbing cock into the folds of her cunt and pressed his way carefully inside, using every ounce of control not to simply ram his way into her.

  Placing his hands beneath her ass, he lifted her as he buried himself inside her, and this time he was the one who groaned, the sound wrenched from somewhere deep inside him. Marissa locked her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper into her wet, perfect heat. Her arms came around his neck and her lips found his.

  They kissed as he lifted and lowered her on his shaft. The pleasure was nearly unbearable. He was nothing but lust—pure, dark, tumultuous lust. Marissa was trembling against him, emitting little staccato cries, her tight cunt spasming against his shaft. Cam wanted it to last forever, but knew he was hanging on by a thread.

  “Oh god,” Marissa cried suddenly. “Oh, god, oh god, oh god!” She jerked in his arms, her movements snapping that slender thread. Cam exploded inside her, the blood roaring in his ears, his heart convulsing in his chest, his entire body melting from the blasting fire of his orgasm.

  Finally Cam sank slowly to the floor, Marissa still wrapped around him. He leaned back with her in his arms, his cock still buried inside her. He stretched out his legs and she moved with him until they were lying flat, he on his back, she on top of him, her head nestled against his neck.

  He must have drifted off for a minute or two, because when he opened his eyes, Marissa was beside him, peering into his eyes, a very feminine, satisfied little smile on her pretty face. “Hi,” she said softly.

  Cam lifted himself onto one elbow. “Hi there. Nice place you have here.”

  “Wait’ll you see the bedroom,” she quipped with a grin.

  Cam chuckled and Marissa started to laugh. Cam laughed too, happiness nearly levitating him from the floor. He pulled Marissa into his arms, his cock hardening against her thigh. “I don’t think you’re going to get too much sleep tonight,” he growled into her ear.

  “Sleep is overrated,” she murmured. Then she kissed him.

  ~*~

  Marissa’s grandmother had loved musicals and was always playing them on her old-fashioned vinyl record player when she had Marissa and her little sister, Kristen, over for the weekend when they were children. One of her grandmother’s favorites, and therefore by extension one of Marissa’s, was the soundtrack to The King and I. Marissa’s favorite song on the record had always been Hello Young Lovers. The lyrics had been playing in her head all that morning, and she’d even found herself humming while typing up some notes at a terminal in the nurses’ station after rounds: I know how it feels to have wings on your heels and to fly through the street in a trance. You fly down the street on the chance that you’ll meet and you meet—not really by chance.

  That had been happening all morning with her and Cam. She’d seen more of him on the unit that Monday after their incredible weekend than in the weeks he’d been on staff. Every time they saw each other, it was hard to resist exchanging a secret smile, or brushing his hand when he handed her a chart, or standing a little too close when they consulted on a patient.

  It was surely only a matter of time before the rest of the staff, especially the ever-observant Janice, realized there was something going on between them. While they had agreed there was no reason to hide the fact they were seeing each other, neither did Marissa want to come across to her staff as a lovesick teenager. Hopefully she would be better able to hide her feelings once they got more used to handling themselves in public, and once the relationship wasn’t so blindingly shiny and new.

  Was it possible to fall in love over a single weekend?

  Probably not, Marissa’s rational, sensible mind informed her. But her heart and her body were telling her otherwise. Cam and she had barely left her apartment the entire weekend, and for the first time in years and years, Marissa’s pussy was actually sore from use, and she’d had more orgasms than she could count. She was glad she’d continued taking birth control pills after her last breakup six months prior, since no way did she want to have anything, even a thin membrane of latex, come between her and this amazing man. And sex was the least of it. Or not the least of it, but made a thousand times more intense by the delicious erotic overlay of BDSM.

  Cam had spanked her—not the way Tony had, while she was strapped to a cross, his wife watching nearby. That had been exciting in its way, but nothing compared to the intensity she’d experienced while lying naked over Cam’s muscular thighs, her hands bound at the wrists with old stockings, his cock hard against her belly as he turned her ass a blistering cherry red, and then flipped her over to fuck her to yet another in a series of blindingly intense orgasms.

  When they were too tired for sex, they talked. They talked about everything, from their respective childhoods, their interest in medicine, to how they lost their virginity. Cam had lost his during his senior year of high school in the backseat of his car after the prom—his girlfriend had been so scared Cam’s cock had wilted several times while attempting to penetrate. Marissa had held out until freshmen year of college. The junior jock she’d chosen had turned out to be much better at playing football than at making love to a woman.

  She’d felt comfortable sharing her earliest sexual fantasies, which had always included a strong man “having his way with her” but had only fairly recently taken a more specific masochistic and submissive turn. She’d felt validated by Cam’s understanding and encouragement, and excited by the promises he made to take her as far as she was ready to go into the heady and thrilling world of D/s.

  As she moved through her workday, Marissa had to force herself to focus. She owed it to her patients to give them her full and undivided attention, and after a while, she somehow managed to tuck Cam and the amazing weekend into the back of her mind.

  Then she would see him again, just his back as he was walking away, or his profile as he leaned over the nurses’ station counter, and her entire body would leap to life, every nerve ending thrumming with need.

  Would the day never end?

  ~*~

  “Wow, this is really nice.” Marissa turned slowly in the small living room of Cam’s house—the right side of a duplex located in Queens. “You probably have twice as much space here as I do in my apartment.”

  Cam nodded. “No way could I swing even a studio in Manhattan, but out here there are still some affordable neighborhoods, and it’s right off the subway line. Wait’ll I show you upstairs.”

  “The bedroom?” Marissa said in a teasing voice. “Is that where you’re taking me?”

  “Even better.” Cam waggled his eyebrows and grinned.

  Marissa followed him up the stairs to the second floor. Cam led her past two open doors—one the master bedroom, its bed neatly made, the other an office with a desk and bookshelves overflowing with books. “Where are you taking me?”

  “To my own personal inner room,” Cam said with a sexy smile. He stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway and turned to her, his expression now serious. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. “Marissa, you’ve told me over the course of the week that you’re ready for more. You want a more total slave experience. Is that st
ill true?”

  In the week they’d been together, Cam had stayed over at her place most nights, and the BDSM play, while intense and exciting, hadn’t progressed much past spankings, light bondage and some breath play. Marissa was ready for more, and Cam had promised that today they would begin to delve deeper into her masochistic impulses and desires. Something swooped in Marissa’s gut at his words, and her nipples perked inside her bra. “Yes, Sir,” she said throatily.

  Cam nodded. “I’m going to take you into my dungeon. Once you cross the threshold, you are no longer Marissa. You are slave M, and you are my property to do with as I will. Do you think you’re ready for that?”

  Marissa stared at her new lover. Property! The very idea was anathema to an independent, strong-willed doctor. But Cam wasn’t talking to her as a professional. He was speaking to the only recently acknowledged yearning Marissa had discovered deep inside—the need to give herself completely to another person—to submit not only with her body, but with her heart and soul.

  She swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, Sir. I’m ready.”

  “A slave never enters my dungeon dressed in street clothing. Sometimes I will have you dress in ways that please me. For now, you will strip and leave your clothing, all of it, at the bottom of the stairs.” He pulled open the door, revealing a flight of steep, narrow stairs. He looked at her, waiting.

  Though Cam had seen her naked a dozen times over the past week, she felt suddenly shy, maybe because he was still fully clothed, or maybe because something had changed in his demeanor. He was once again the trainer from the inner room, and she the trembling novice.

  Yet she knew there was really no decision. Or more accurately, that she’d already made it. She pulled her shirt over her head and then opened her jeans as she stepped out of her sandals. He watched her with smoldering eyes as she reached back to unclasp her bra and then slipped off her panties. She folded the clothes and placed them on the bottom stair. She stood, twisting her hands nervously behind her back.