by I. T. Lucas
“Is that why you helped me get free?”
“No, sweetling. I did it for you. Now, same as then, I have nothing to offer you except a few nights of passion. I wish things were different, but that’s still true. Are you okay with that?”
“I’ll take whatever you can give me. I need you.”
Fates, I need you too.
He took her to the one room with a private exit to the outside. Soon, the regulars would start arriving, and she would be embarrassed being seen walking out of there when they were done.
Hell, whom was he fooling? He didn’t want anyone seeing her with him and imagining what they’d done. Calypso and everything about her belonged to him. No one other than him was allowed to have sexual fantasies about her. Not while he was around.
Walking into the room, Calypso took a quick glance around, her eyes lingering on the specially designed contraption in the corner.
“What is that?” She pointed.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her to his side. Not because he was afraid she’d bolt—Calypso had made her decision, and nothing short of an explosion was going to deter her from it—but she was scared and unsure and physical contact would make her feel safer. “I think you can guess.”
“Are you going to tie me up to this?”
He scented her anxiety, but it was overwhelmed by the scent of her desire. This was turning her on.
“It’s either that or face down on the bed. Your choice. But I think you’ll enjoy the bench more.”
Resembling a weight-lifting bench, the front part was raised to its maximum height, while the back was lowered. Dangling from the other side of it, the leather straps that were lined with fake fur would secure her comfortably in place, while the extra padding on the almost vertical support would ensure she was comfortable enough for an extended play.
Trying to look at it through her eyes, Brundar didn’t think the piece of equipment looked particularly ominous. But assumption was the mother of all fuckups, and it was always better to ask.
He stroked her hair, gentling her. “You’re okay with that? Or does it scare you?”
“I think it’s fine,” she whispered.
Chapter 47: Callie
That was not how Callie wanted her first time with Brundar to be.
The first time was supposed to be tender, explorative, which wasn’t going to happen while she was tied up and blindfolded with her back turned to him.
She wasn’t scared, trusting him to be gentle with her and lead her slowly into this new world of darker pleasures. But she yearned for the intimacy he couldn’t give her.
His rules prohibited that.
“Calypso.” Brundar pulled her into his hard body, his warmth and his strength easing her turmoil. A finger under her chin, he lifted her head, so she was looking into his smoldering eyes. “Don’t think so much, just feel.” His large palm stroked small circles on her back as he lowered his head and kissed her.
His gentle hold on her contrasted with the ferocity of his possessive passion as he took her mouth, his lips firm, his tongue stroking and gliding against hers.
Lost to the passion, to the kiss she’d been dreaming about since that first time he’d kissed her and had left her with a taste for more, Callie moaned. Her hands ached to thread through the curtain of his silky hair, but she had to respect his hard limits, the same way she expected him to respect hers.
There was so little she’d agreed to. Would it be enough?
Any moment now, he could demand her to strip for him, and she’d have to do it, with grace, because she’d given him that power. She’d promised to obey as long as he respected her rules.
The thought mortified and excited her at the same time.
Callie wasn’t shy, but to strip on command for a man who was going to see her nude for the first time would mean stretching her courage and determination to the max.
Brundar deepened the kiss, a growl rumbling in his muscular chest as his hand, which up to that moment had been so gentle on her back, fisted her hair and pulled her head back, opening her for him.
The dominance of the act more than the slight sting had her nipples pebble and moisture gather in her panties, which hadn’t been dry since he’d shown her the room with the spanking bench.
She rubbed her achy peaks against his chest, hoping it wasn’t against his rules, and if it was, she didn’t care. Worst case scenario it would earn her a spanking, and that wouldn’t be bad at all.
But given the tightening of his hold on her and the way he rubbed his erection against her belly, it seemed Brundar was fine with that.
Lost to the sensations bombarding her starved body, Callie felt her legs go soft, and if not for Brundar’s firm hold on her, she would’ve collapsed into him.
With one last swipe of his tongue against her kiss-swollen lips, he made sure she was stable enough to stand on her own before catching the bottom of her T-shirt and pulling it over her head in one swift motion.
“Thank you.” She was so grateful he wasn’t forcing her to strip.
He chuckled, though she wasn’t sure he’d caught her meaning. “You’re welcome.” He unzipped her jeans and pulled them down. She stepped out of them.
If she weren’t so embarrassed, she would’ve thanked him again for not stripping her in one go, leaving her in her bra and panties.
His palm splayed on the naked expanse of her belly, warm, possessive, reassuring. His other hand stroked her hip, his fingers curling around the curve of her ass.
“You’re beautiful, Calypso.”
“Thank you,” she blurted, feeling foolish for sounding like a broken record. Where was the rich vocabulary she prided herself on? But her mouth was dry, and the words were swirling in her head in an incoherent jumble she couldn’t make sense of.
Her breath hitched as the hand on her belly stroked up, reaching the bottom curve of her breast. Panting, she looked up at Brundar, startled at the intensity he regarded her with.
Slowly, he ran a finger at the bottom of her breast, the sensation electrifying but far from what she needed. With a light squeeze, he abandoned her butt cheek, his hand reaching for the back clasp of her bra. He didn’t snap it open right away as she’d expected. His fingers caressing the skin around the clasp, he looked into her eyes and waited for her acquiescence.
Callie might have not known much about dominants, but she very much doubted they sought approval before every move. Wasn’t he supposed to order her to do things? Take what he wanted as long as it wasn’t against her rules?
Not that she was complaining. This was perfect, exactly like it should be between a man and a woman, it just didn’t fit the profile she’d imagined.
Except, Brundar wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met. He didn’t fit into any neat category. He was different in almost every way.
Snapping the clasp open, he hooked his fingers in the shoulder straps and lowered them down in slow motion, treating her as if she was a spooked little kitten he didn’t want to scare off.
Which made her aware that her initial anxiety was gone. With his slow and careful treatment of her, he was easing her into the scene. It was exactly what she needed to loosen up.
Brundar sucked in a breath when he bared her breasts, letting the bra slide down to the floor.
As he stared at her practically nude body, Callie forced herself to stand straight, her hands fisted by her sides to remind herself she wasn’t allowed to touch this incredibly handsome man who was looking at her as if she was special, beautiful.
With her shoes gone, she felt tiny next to him even though she wasn’t short. Callie couldn’t help feeling a little intimidated by Brundar’s sheer size. He wasn’t bulky or heavily muscled. But his height and the breadth of his shoulders were impressive. That he was powerful, she had no doubt.
If she were allowed to touch him, Callie would’ve divested him of his shirt and run her hands all over his taut muscles—the six-pack she’d felt when he’d held her close.
Involuntarily, her back arched in a silent invitation for him to take more, to cup her breasts, knead them, lick and suck on the achy twin points of gnawing need.
When his thumbs finally brushed over the tips, the moan she’d been trying to hold in escaped her throat in a rush, and she closed her eyes.
God, it was becoming impossible to keep her hands off of him. If he didn’t tie her up soon, she was in danger of breaking the rules. Maybe he wasn’t going to do it after all? He didn’t seem to be in any rush.
“I’m proud of you, sweetling,” he whispered in her ear, a moment before nuzzling her neck. “Such a good girl for keeping your hands at your sides.”
His words of praise elicited another soft moan, and she tilted her head, giving him easier access. “If I promise to keep my hands to myself, can we forgo the bondage?”
“Nice try.” He tweaked her nipples hard, the small pain sending a zing of desire straight down between her legs.
“Turn around, Calypso,” he commanded.
She obeyed in an instant.
His thumbs hooked inside the elastic of her panties, pulling them down past her hips and letting them drop to the floor.
Her cheeks flared with heat as she imagined him seeing how soaked through they were, grateful for having her back to him.
“Look at you, sweetling, so wet for me.”
His finger sliding over her sleek folds from behind, she almost came right there and then, her impending climax halted only by the sharp smack he delivered to her naked ass. “Not yet.”
Unbidden, the words she’d never imagined uttering of her own accord in a sexual situation left her mouth. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.” His palm caressed the sting away, making her hungry for more.
“Get on the bench, Calypso.” He tapped her butt cheek lightly.
Here it comes. Callie closed her eyes for a split moment, then took in a fortifying breath and stepped closer to the contraption Brundar was about to strap her to.
“Don’t be afraid.” He kissed her neck as his hand on her shoulder guided her onto the thing.
The pose was awkward to say the least. On the top, the bench reached only up to under her breasts, supporting her torso but leaving them exposed. On the bottom Brundar pulled out two knee supports and guided her to kneel on them, her thighs spread wide lewdly. In seconds, he had her strapped in, fiddling with the buckles to ensure she was secured but comfortably so.
Her thighs were strapped to the supports, her torso to the bench, and her arms to the strap that secured her torso. Her range of motion was limited to less than an inch in each direction.
“Okay?” Brundar’s warm hand caressed her back.
Surprisingly, it was. She was comfortable, nothing pinched or pulled, and Brundar’s hand on her was reassuring, as was his soft tone.
“Uh-huh.”
“Words, sweetling,” he leaned over her, pressing his front to her back.
“I’m good.”
He dangled a long piece of black silk in front of her eyes. “I’m going to blindfold you now.”
She took in a long breath and closed her eyes. “Okay.”
Chapter 48: Brundar
“Okay, sweetling?” Brundar asked after tying the end of the black silk scarf at the back of her head.
“Perfect,” Calypso husked.
The entire room was perfumed with her arousal.
Brundar still couldn’t get over how trusting she was with him. Did she feel the same deep connection that had battered at his shields, bringing him to his knees?
Was she as helpless against the irresistible pull between them as he was?
Looking at her golden hair spilling in soft waves down her slender back, he felt like an awestruck boy, flummoxed that a beauty like her found him worthy of her trust, her surrender.
She shivered when he lifted the golden strands, shifting them to the side and exposing the long expanse of her back. She was slender, but not thin, small-boned, as his mother would have described her.
Calypso was a tapestry of contradictions. She was soft yet firm, her skin the softest silk spread tight over taut muscles honed by long hours of working on her feet. She was delicate yet strong. She was determined yet flexible, demanding yet yielding.
He loved the many facets of her.
It would take a lifetime to learn all her nuances, discover all her passions, test all her limits—soft and hard. He would have gladly committed himself to the exploration. Unfortunately, Calypso’s lifespan was painfully too short for him to unravel all of her secrets.
He’d better remember that before letting the ice shields surrounding his heart melt for her.
Closing his eyes, he made a decision that was going to cause him agony in the short run but save his heart from shattering in the long run. Brundar could not afford a meltdown. He wouldn’t survive it, and the clan would not survive without him.
For the foreseeable future, he was indispensable. Until new blood fortified the Guardian ranks, the clan needed him.
He would pleasure Calypso until she forgot her own name, but he would hold back. It wasn’t an impossible task. He’d done it before. His overriding need was to bite, and he could do it without taking his pleasure inside her.
Caressing her back, he kissed her neck, nipping the soft spot where it connected to her shoulder, then circling his arms around her to cup her breasts. She moaned and bucked as much as her restraints allowed, while he tweaked and pulled, torturing her hard nipples and ratcheting her desire to a fever pitch.
“Please, Brundar, I can’t, please…” She wasn’t coherent in her pleas, but then he wasn’t expecting her to be. He knew what she wanted, what she needed better than she could articulate in her current state.
He cupped her breasts, his warm palms easing the ache he’d caused, letting her catch her breath.
However, the reprieve he granted her was short. Now that her front was soothed, he intended to warm her backside—one of the few things she’d listed.
The first smack caught her by surprise.
“Ow, that hurt.”
He rubbed the small ache away. “Do you want me to stop?”
She shook her head.
“Words, Calypso.” He delivered another smack to her other butt cheek, immediately rubbing the sting away.
“No. More.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t understand that.” He teased. “Is it no more, or give me more?”
“Give me more.”
“That was what I thought. But I wasn’t sure.”
She snickered, which earned her a harder smack.
“Ouch. Was that your hand or did you switch to a paddle?”
The impudent remark earned her a volley of smacks, leaving her heart-shaped behind slightly pinked, and her sex blooming with desire.
His Calypso wasn’t much of a submissive, but that was perfectly fine with him. He didn’t need her to submit to him, just yield for the duration of their playtime. In fact, her sass was making the game more fun.
He leaned over her, pressing his aching hardness to her warmed behind. “Do you still doubt me, little girl?”
He heard her stifle a chuckle. “No, sir. I wouldn’t dare. I’m sure my fanny bears your paddle-like handprints.”
“Hmm, let’s see.” He rubbed one cheek and then the other. “I don’t think you’ve had enough.”
Calypso shivered at the loss of his body heat as he pulled back and delivered another volley of light smacks. She was panting now, not because she was in any real pain, but because she was on the verge of climaxing.
“Not yet, sweetling.”
“Please, I’m so close.”
“I know, just a little bit longer. Can you do that for me?”
She nodded.
“Good girl. Wait for my permission.” He kissed her neck, his p
alm caressing her warmed cheeks.
She stiffened, his command apparently not sitting well with her, nevertheless when his finger brushed over her drenched folds, she groaned but held herself back.
He rewarded her by pushing his finger inside her wet heat, then pulling out and coming back with two, slowly stretching her sheath. She was so tight, it must’ve been a while for her. He wondered how she’d managed to avoid her asshole husband’s advances.
It had been a while for Brundar as well.
Ever since he’d revealed himself to Calypso, he hadn’t been with anyone else. His abstinence didn’t make sense since he’d had no intentions of having any kind of a relationship with her, but the thought of being with another woman had felt like a betrayal.
Which meant that even though he was still fully dressed, and his painfully stiff cock was still imprisoned inside his jeans, he was just as close to climaxing as she was.
In two quick moves, he freed himself. The fingers of one hand still pumping in and out of Calypso’s drenched sheath, he palmed the hard length with the other, stroking it in sync with his thrusting fingers.
Unable to resist, he rubbed the tip in her wetness, coating himself in her fragrant cream before pumping into his fist.
“Brundar…” She whispered his name like a plea.
He wasn’t going to last and neither was she. After pining for one another for weeks, they were both too close to the edge to try to prolong this first time.
“I’ve got you, sweetling,” he hissed through protruding fangs and pressed his thumb to the seat of her pleasure.
Her sheath convulsed around his fingers, the loud keening moan leaving her throat sounding tortured and euphoric at the same time.
Pressing himself to her, his seed shot out, covering her ass and her back in one hot stream after another. He gripped her hair, pulling her head back and elongating her neck before sinking his fangs into it.
She climaxed again, and so did he, bathing her backside in more cum.
As he’d expected, she blacked out, going limp under him, the first venom bite the most potent of all.