Re/Bound

by Michele Zurlo

  After putting food down for the cat, she rinsed and filled the coffeemaker, but Theo stayed her hand when she reached for the coffee. His strong fingers closed around her wrist, and his solid chest brushed against her shoulder. “Not yet. I'll give you that spanking first. Close the curtains and take off your shoes and underwear. Leave your skirt on.”

  The insides of her thighs quivered, and cream rushed to her pussy. He spoke clinically, his matter-of-fact statement betraying no romantic intent or evidence of sexual desire. That turned her on too.

  He hadn't signaled the start of a scene by running his thumb over her brow and lip, but she knew how to respond. “Yes, Sir.”

  She set about the tasks he had commanded. A hallway off the dining room led to the garage and a room intended to be a family room. Scott had put up a door and commandeered that room for his workshop. To this day, it remained closed. She headed to the front of the house and closed the roman blinds in each of the windows of the big bay in the living room. The two windows that overlooked the side yard and her neighbor's house had curtains. Though they were thin, that side faced her neighbor's garage. There was very little chance anyone would be in a position to glance inside at their silhouettes.

  Theo settled in the center of the sofa and stretched his arms along the back of it. He reclined comfortably as he watched her carry out his orders.

  She removed her low heels and peeled away her pantyhose. The length of her skirt meant she had to lift it to mid-thigh in order to reach the top of her hose. Theo's remote expression didn't change, but she didn't take that as a bad sign. His stoicism made her heart pound and her juices heat up.

  When her panties joined her hose in a neat pile on the arm of a chair, she stood before him, offering herself without demanding anything.

  His gaze roamed her body for the longest time, but she didn't fidget under his scrutiny. At last he reached out and fingered the hem of her skirt. He tugged at the material and frowned. “Turn around.”

  Darcy turned her backside to him. She let a brief wrinkle of confusion cross her brow before she smoothed it away. Theo ran his fingertip down the length of the zipper in the back.

  “Lie down across my lap. Turn your face toward the back of the couch. Can you keep your arms up and out of the way, or would you prefer to be bound?”

  She draped her body over his legs, putting her ass where she thought he'd want it. “I can keep them out of the way, Sir.”

  “I like that you naturally fall into using terms of respect, Darcy. You're a very good submissive. That's one of the reasons I'm going to reward you like this. You do understand that this is a reward?” He rested his hand on the curve of her ass. Heat penetrated the delicate fabric of her skirt, and the harder nap of the sofa cradled her face.

  “Yes, Sir. You made it clear that you wouldn't deliver punishments this way.”

  The hand on her ass moved in a caress. His other hand rested on the small of her back. “I want to also make it clear that I won't pressure you to have sex with me tonight, either. I know this will turn you on, but you'll have to take care of your own completion tonight after I leave.”

  Never in her life had a man not tried to get her in bed on the first few dates. None of them had been successful. If Theo asked, she would have consented. Startled, she took a moment to respond. “Yes, Sir.”

  His roaming hand stopped. “Tell me the safe words.”

  “Red to stop, yellow to pause, green if everything's good.”

  “Where are we now?”

  “Green, Sir.”

  The smooth material of her blouse slid against her skin as he pulled it from the waistband of her skirt. With quick efficiency, he drew down her skirt's zipper. She lifted her hips to help him lower her skirt, and she realized why he had fingered the fabric of her skirt. There was too much material and the skirt was too tight to flip up or bunch at her waist. She appreciated the time he took with details.

  “You have a very sexy bottom, Darcy.” His hand ran over her flesh, a light caress that made her anticipate the blows to come.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  For the longest time, he did nothing but explore her skin. He widened his forays to include the areas at the tops of her thighs and her lower back. Then he lifted his hips, and his hand disappeared. She heard curious sounds, but she couldn't quite see what he was doing from her position.

  When his hand returned, she recognized the smooth leather of a spanking glove, warmed from being in his pocket. She closed her eyes as the anticipation swirled into tighter circles.

  “I'm not going to hold you down. I expect you to stay put. If you can't remain where you are, I will stop and I will not start again.”

  Theo definitely had strict rules, but she understood his reasoning. He wanted to learn her reactions, and he wanted to know what kind of stamina she had. This would reveal her limits and help him keep their sex play—should they ever get around to it—safe.

  She would have to control her writhing. She had to remember to not rise to meet the sweet blows she knew would soon rain over her backside. “Yes, Sir.”

  The first blow echoed through the room with a resounding crack. She winced at the unexpected harshness of it, but she didn't move at all. As he had done with the flogger, she expected him to warm her up first. Perhaps he meant to explore the veracity of her claim that she didn't need a warm-up?

  More smacks rained across her ass. He varied them, never hitting with the same speed or intensity twice, though he did concentrate on her right cheek. Darcy relaxed into the sweet sting buzzing across her skin, and she let the tingles and zips of pleasure travel through her body. They radiated in long and short lines, wending where they pleased.

  Her pussy grew very damp and her clit throbbed, but she refrained from pressing her pelvis into his leg because she knew nothing further would happen. With the offer of sex off the table, she concentrated on enjoying the spanking. That peaceful place hovered nearby. Slowly it descended over her, claiming dominion. She surrendered.

  Vaguely she registered that Theo had stopped spanking her. The softness of her skirt slid over her hips and rubbed the tenderized skin of her ass, and the zipper whispered a protest at being once again forced to hold fabric together. Her body shifted, and she felt the solidity of Theo's shoulder against her cheek. His arms wound around her and held her close. The clean, masculine scent rolling from his skin further cocooned her in a soothing bliss.

  When her wits returned, she planted a soft kiss on the pulse point at the base of his neck. “Thank you, Sir.”

  The fingers that had been tracing up and down her spine lifted to twist in her hair. He tilted her head back and claimed her lips in a hungry kiss. In seconds he had her body pinned between his hardness and the soft give of the sofa cushion. He roamed her body with his hands, touching her over the barrier of her clothes with wanton roughness.

  He shoved his knee between hers and pressed one thigh against her core. Evidence of his arousal ground against her hip. She fought the lingering languor of her sojourn in subspace. A soft, kittenish moan sounded in the back of her throat. His lips seared a path along her neck, and he squeezed her breast through her bra. She arched into his touch, longing to feel his heat unmitigated by a barrier.

  She grasped handfuls of his shirt and his thick, dark hair. It slipped from her fingers in a waterfall of silk when he pulled her hands away from him and forced them to the sofa. They hadn't discusses limits, and so she hadn't told him that she hated being held down. And bondage? Forget it. Not only did she find it unappealing, she'd freaked out every time she'd tried it.

  The dull edge of panic beat back the tide of passion. He raised her arms above her head and held them there with one hand around her wrists. His teeth grazed her earlobe. That dull edge turned sharp, cutting through the haze and suspending her need.

  Darcy fought the fear, but it didn't subside. “Yellow.”

  Immediately he stopped and lifted his torso away. His gaze roamed her body, no doubt no
ting the way her breasts strained and heaved. A hint of confusion clouded his eyes. “What's wrong?”

  “I can't...I don't...Theo, you can't...” She closed her eyes and tugged at her hands, but he didn't release them. Yellow signaled a pause, not an end.

  He leaned his weight on his free elbow and smoothed his thumb over her brow and lip. “Darcy, talk to me. Tell me what's bothering you.”

  That pattern of sensation triggered a flood of strength and calm. She opened her eyes. “You can't restrain me. That's a hard limit. I should have told you before, but we haven't really talked about those things yet. I'm sorry, Sir. I understand if you want to stop.”

  Doms didn't, as a rule, like to be told they couldn't engage in bondage. Darcy had never liked being tied up, and Scott had never forced the issue. Instead he'd trained her to stay still at his command.

  Theo released her wrists. She didn't move them.

  “If you want my hands in a certain place, just tell me and I'll keep them there, Sir.”

  He studied her face. Other than a slight frown, he displayed no discernible emotion. She wondered if he thought about the way she'd stayed perfectly still to receive those few blows in the hotel room. “You're a masochist and you don't like being tied up. Do you realize that bondage is often used for your safety and not for control?”

  Yes, she understood those kinds of details. Being bound and unable to move meant she couldn't suddenly shift and cause the tail of the whip to land somewhere it shouldn't. It immobilized the target and kept the Dom's aim true.

  She nodded. “Either way, I don't like it, Sir.”

  He threaded his fingers through hers, holding her hand in an affectionate gesture that buoyed her spirits, and pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin on the back of her hand. She knew this wasn't easy for him to take.

  “I propose a compromise.”

  Her rising spirits stalled.

  “I'm going to hold your hand like this. I'm not going to let go no matter what happens.” He pressed her hand against the sofa cushion just above her head. “Put your other hand on my shoulder and don't move it until I give permission.”

  Hesitantly Darcy brought her other hand down until she felt the ripple of his muscles under her palm. They stayed like that for almost a full minute. Her nerves didn't calm, but they didn't get worse, either.

  “I'm not sure how I feel about this.”

  “I know, honey. I'm asking you to trust me and to give this a chance.” He smoothed his thumb over her brow and lip again.

  It didn't work the way it had before. “This isn't about trust. This is about claustrophobia.”

  His nonplussed expression didn't change to indicate any kind of reaction. “You didn't seem to notice or mind the close confines of the elevator or the dance club. You liked when I caged you against your door in the hotel and when I wrapped you in a blanket for aftercare. You aren't claustrophobic.”

  “Maybe not, but being tied up or held down does the opposite of turning me on.” The entire time she spoke, she kept her hand on his shoulder and he kept hold of her other hand.

  “Did you have a traumatic experience with bondage?”

  She shook her head. Being handcuffed by the police wasn't technically the same thing. “Scott always stopped when I freaked out like this.”

  He regarded her thoughtfully. “He never pushed you?”

  “No.” He hadn't been that kind of Master, and she had accepted those terms. It was difficult to remember that a different Dom would necessarily have different tastes.

  “I want to push you.” He stared at her, and when she didn't react, he continued. “I'd like you to try something new. I'm going to hold you like this and continue doing what I was doing. When I feel you're ready, I'm going to reach under your skirt and finger you until you have an orgasm.”

  Her eyes widened. Shudders of anticipation made her squeeze her legs together, which reminded her that his thigh was still pressed against her pussy and his hard cock dug into her thigh.

  “Take us back to green, Darcy, or call an end to this tonight and I'll leave it alone for now. You can make me some coffee to keep me awake for the drive home.”

  For now. Those two little words hung in the air, a promise that he wouldn't let this go. He threw the challenge down between them, and he dared her to pick it up. She flexed her fingertips against his shoulder, and the slow burn in her backside sent continual demands to her pussy. He wanted her to try something new, something that appealed to him.

  If it didn't work, then she would call red and make him some coffee and she would not feel at all bad about failing. Removing some of the pressure she usually put on herself helped her to relax. She was doing this for him, not for her. “Green, Sir.”

  He feathered a slow kiss across her lips, teasing and nibbling as if he had all the time in the world. His hand tickled against her stomach and moved upward over her rib cage to close around her breast. Under the shirt, but over the bra, his heat teased closer. He flittered his thumb over her pebbled nipple.

  He pinched with a slow, steadily increasing pressure. She bucked against him when she could stand it no longer. The small pain connected directly to her pussy. She dug her fingers into his shoulder and gripped his other hand harder. She pushed against his hold, fighting him.

  Breaking the kiss, he locked his gaze to hers and pushed back. His rocklike muscles seemed out of place for a computer programmer, but she didn't question her good fortune. He obviously worked out. She was no match for him. The weakness made her feel feminine and desired, not powerless and helpless as she expected.

  She ceased her struggle.

  Reaching down, he urged her skirt upward. The muscles in his shoulder rippled under her hand. His palm swept against her naked thigh and pushed her leg until it dangled off the side of the sofa. She expected him to pay attention to her pussy next, but he reached underneath her instead and squeezed a handful of her heated skin.

  Darcy cried out. She struggled against his hold, and she wondered how she could fail to notice this lack of discipline when she wasn't restrained. Or did she feel free to not temper her reactions because he had usurped that authority? This topic demanded examination, but not now.

  Theo's fingers slid through her wetness and circled her clit. He didn't tease for very long. Soon he plunged two fingers inside. He angled them and found her sweet spot. She cried out, urging him to repeat his action, and lifted her hips to help with the rhythm.

  “Open your eyes, Darcy. Come for me.”

  She hadn't realized she'd closed them. Forcing her lashes upward, she focused on the determined set of his jaw. Heat, molten and insistent, swirled from her ass to deep inside her pussy where he worked his magic. He knew just where to focus his attention to concentrate her energies.

  His hardness dug into her thigh, and she wanted her hands free so she could make him feel the same wondrous things he made her feel. She barely managed to keep her hand on his shoulder. Fire coiled inside, spiraling from her control. Her climax burst, and he claimed her lips, swallowing her shout. He slowed his pace gradually, prolonging the orgasm and bringing her down gently.

  He licked his fingers, openly savoring her flavor, and shifted her to the side. She found herself enveloped in the warmth and safety of his arms. That he positioned her on the open side of the sofa and put himself against the back didn't escape her notice. He sought to push her boundaries, not break through the barriers she imposed with her talk of hard limits.

  “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  She nodded into his chest. He had neatly circumvented her panic by describing his intentions and following through exactly as he had said. “Yes, Sir.”

  “No more ‘Sir’ tonight, Darcy. I release you.”

  Snuggling closer to him, she kissed a lazy trail along his jaw. “I've never fought back before.”

  He stroked a soothing hand down her back, and his erection pressed into her hip. “Did you like fighting back?”

  “I don't know. It was dif
ferent. Not better or worse, just different.” She appreciated the difference. Deep down, she had wondered if she had just been looking for someone to replace Scott. Now she knew she wasn't. She was with Theo because she liked him. Her grief subtly shifted, and she felt a lightness in her core she'd never thought she would feel again.

  A consideration occurred to her. “Did you like me fighting you?”

  She felt his smile against her temple a second before she felt his lips grazing a kiss there. “You have a lot of fight in you, Darcy. It makes you feisty and spirited. I like that. So yes, I like it when you fight me.”

  Various scenarios presented themselves to her. Theo was strong enough to counter any resistance she might make, and he said he liked the fight in her. She didn't know how she would take it if he tried to do more than they had done tonight, but now they had a goal to work toward.

  As she worked this out in her head, she became aware of his even breathing. A glance up showed his eyes closed. The fringe of his dark lashes blended together against his cheeks. His hold on her relaxed. His body twitched a few times as he settled into a deeper level of rest.

  Darcy stayed still for a while longer, enjoying the feel of having Theo next to her. When her eyes threatened to close for the night, she carefully extricated herself. She covered him with a blanket and slipped a pillow under his head. He murmured something unintelligible and rolled onto his stomach. She crept up the stairs and into her bed.

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  Chapter Six

  The rich scent of coffee invigorated Malcolm's mind before his eyes consented to open. He blinked in the dim light that illuminated the thin curtains covering two nearby windows. A cat lay curled up between his feet. Immediately his brain kicked forth the details of his location and circumstances.

  Careful to not disturb the ball of fur, he staggered to his feet and let his nose lead him toward that precious liquid. A quick glance at the grandfather clock in her hall confirmed the time. He had to be on the road within a half hour. Last night he had found himself telling her the truth about his family. He actually did have a funeral to attend, and his mother would kill him if he showed up late. He could only use work as an excuse so many times.