Command

by Sierra Cartwright

  “Wrists or ankles first?” He picked a cuff from the cart.

  “Whatever you please, Sir,” she answered.

  His nod of approval made her glad she’d remembered the response.

  He started with her wrists, wrapping them in cuffs then securing them to an eyebolt. She realized it would have been just as easy for him to stand behind her and do this, so she appreciated that he was letting her watch him.

  Her brain told her the restraints were secure, but she couldn’t help but test them anyway. She could move her arms barely an inch.

  After securing her ankles—not easy, she imagined, with the boots—he stepped back. “This image of you… I’ll never forget it.”

  Their gazes held for a moment before he gave her a curt nod. Then he moved behind her to stroke her back and shoulders. She wondered how he always managed to surprise her.

  Tension she hadn’t been aware of seeped from her body as her muscles relaxed.

  He vigorously rubbed her buttocks then her thighs, warming her body.

  “It’s doubtful I’d leave any bruises,” he said, “but this will add insurance.”

  Only then did he move to the cart to pick up the flogger.

  “What will you say if it gets to be too much?”

  “Holy shit?”

  He put the butt of the flogger beneath her chin and forced her head back a little.

  “Even though I’ll be watching your responses, I won’t be able to see your expression.” His eyebrows were set in a scowl. “You have a responsibility to me, to yourself, to our scene, to communicate.”

  “You’re right. I apologize.” She saw how very seriously he took this, and she respected that he was concerned for her safety. “If it’s too much, I’ll say yellow.”

  “Will I keep going if you scream at me to stop?”

  “Ah…”

  “That’s the importance of communicating,” he said. “A lot of subs like the freedom to shout no or yell at the Dom to stop, and to them, it’s part of the fun. Because we’re still getting to know each other, you can be guaranteed that I’ll check in with you, but to put an immediate halt to our scene, the only word you need is yellow.”

  “I understand, Sir.”

  “What’s your favorite number, between five and ten?”

  Guessing what was coming, she said, “Five.”

  She felt the strands of leather rain on her right shoulder. Then he dragged them down, teasing her skin. He did the same thing on her left shoulder. “Mmm.” It was better than she’d imagined.

  He allowed them to fall on the top of her buttocks.

  She pressed her body harder into the padding. Then she heard him take a step back, his boots ridiculously loud on the stone floor.

  “Left cheek,” he said.

  Survival instinct made her clench, but when nothing happened, she forced herself to relax. Though he didn’t speak, she heard his words in her head, urging her to keep her body loose.

  The first blow was gentle, a tease. When he’d used it on her earlier, through her jeans, he’d warned her the feeling would be different. It was. This was far more sensuous. The connection of leather on flesh was erotic, thrilling, unlike anything she could have imagined. And to think fear might have made her skip this experience.

  He gave her four more strokes, each exquisite and unique. There was no way that thirty-six strands could fall in exactly the same way twice.

  Then he paused. She allowed her eyes to drift close. “This is nice,” she said.

  He slid a hand between her legs. As much as the cuffs allowed, she raised onto her tiptoes.

  Back and forth, he moved a finger, making her moist, but not sliding into her, and barely skimming her clit.

  Before she was ready, he stopped.

  “That was enough to be maddening,” she protested.

  “It was five.”

  Monster.

  “You set the number,” he reminded her.

  Leaving her frustrated, he used the flogger on her right butt cheek, then he repeated the slow slide between her labia.

  The restraints made it impossible for her to move her body enough to have any control and try for an orgasm.

  As he had earlier, he stopped touching her. “Would you like to continue? And if we do, say yellow if it’s too much.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said. “More.”

  He stroked her nape with the side of his hand. “These will be on your back, in a random pattern.”

  They were far more intense than the first, but also far more rewarding. She felt perspiration dew on her skin. Strands wrapped around her waist, first on one side then the other, aching.

  Before she could get into it, it was over, and he was between her legs, keeping up that maddening rhythm. “I…can’t do this,” she protested. Her body felt alive, demanding.

  “I didn’t hear yellow.”

  “No!” She opened her eyes. “Don’t stop.” That would be the worst. His touches were having a cumulative effect, letting an orgasm form deep inside her.

  He chuckled, and the sound rocked her. It spoke of power and shared pleasure.

  “Across your upper thighs,” he warned.

  Each place the leather landed, it felt different. On her rear, it had been thuddy. When he’d hit her back, several strands had wrapped around her sides, biting into her flesh. On her upper thighs, though, the strands fell flat, creating a dull impact. This she could endure, even enjoy.

  After a final stroke, he teased her pussy, sinking two fingers deep inside her. She closed her eyes and let her head tip back. “Damn.”

  She moaned when he pulled out. “I think I hate you a little right now,” she said.

  “Be careful what you—”

  “Ask for. I should have said nine or ten.” She pulled against her restraints, aroused, edgy.

  “Ready for more now that you’re warmed up?”

  She wished she could see him to read his expression. “Yes.”

  “I won’t repeat the pattern, but you’ve had a taste of what you’ll receive, forehand, backhand, and the places I’ll strike you.”

  “Is there an orgasm in my future?”

  “Guaranteed.”

  She shrugged, rolled her shoulders and resettled her body against the pads. This was already feeling more comfortable.

  He tossed the strands onto her neck. It was a signal, she realized, letting her know what to expect. Communication.

  Before she was fully prepared, he blazed across her buttocks. She clenched her butt cheeks. That was so, so much more searing than any other, but as the pain radiated and ricocheted, it heated her from the inside. She liked it.

  She relaxed her body when she was ready and he continued.

  Aria realized he was watching her and responding to her reactions.

  The next few were easier than the first, then he mixed it up with one across her back that took her breath away.

  He immediately put a hand between her legs and slipped two fingers into her pussy.

  The pain instantly transformed, making her more aroused.

  “Oh, God. Oh, God!”

  He pressed the flat part of his thumb against her clitoris, and she lifted up on her toes, squeezing her pussy, searching for an orgasm that he kept just out of reach.

  “You’re so wet. And hot.”

  “And—”

  Rather than satisfying her, he moved his hand from between her legs and continued the beating, leaving her groaning, all but whining her frustration.

  “Surrender,” he encouraged her.

  She had no idea what the hell that meant, but he pressed on, still tormenting her, landing shocking blows on her back, harsh ones on her ass.

  Her pussy ached with need, and she wanted him there, taking care of her. And that’s when she realized what he meant. She was focused on what she wanted and not on what he was giving.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and resisted the impulse to take little pants of breath. Instead she took deep gulps of air. T
hey allowed her to concentrate.

  “That’s it.”

  On some level she was aware of the flogging, the painful caress of all thirty-six tails, but she also felt it as an extension of Grant and his dominance.

  And then she understood.

  Grant and his dominance meant nothing without her submission to it.

  The realization magnified her arousal and her need to give him what he required.

  She allowed her body to sink into the padding, and she wrapped her hands around the wrist cuffs for support, no longer seeing them as a restraint.

  He continued the flogging, and playing with her. She let go of her internal struggle, giving herself over, not just in her body, but in her mind. How long it continued, she had no idea. She just knew she never wanted it to end.

  “Come for me.”

  She hadn’t been aware of him touching her, but he was there, everywhere, all at once.

  Eyes closed, she allowed sensation to swamp her.

  His touch expert and his words demanding, Grant gave her an orgasm that made her scream and scream. Completion blazed through her, overwhelming her. The world became hazy, then black.

  She was aware of sensation, but also of a feeling of peace, something she’d never felt outside of meditation.

  Her body felt warm, not seared.

  Aria knew he was speaking, but the words blurred and sounded nonsensical. Instead, they soothed.

  It took some time for her to register that the strands no longer fell over her body and that he was still speaking to her. She realized that he was behind her, his body pressing into hers. He’d unfastened her right wrist and was rubbing her arm.

  She moved her head to the side to look at him. “Wow.”

  “Welcome back.” He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

  “I feel like I went on a rollercoaster ride.”

  “In a way, you did.”

  She stretched out her fingers then shook her arm while he released the left one.

  In under a minute, he’d removed the cuffs and carried her to the chair. He sat, holding her in his lap.

  “I liked that,” she admitted, burying her head in his shoulder, in his formidable strength.

  “So did I,” he agreed. “How about a soak in the hot tub?”

  “That sounds awesome.” Her body felt relaxed from the aftermath of the sensual arousal, but there was an undercurrent of fatigue from the tension of getting ready to leave California, flying, getting to work right away, and the unnatural ways he’d spread her body and tied her up.

  “You can stay here. I’ll be right back with a few things,” he said.

  She frowned. “Why don’t I just go with you?”

  “I thought we’d use the outdoor hot tub.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Another surprise. “In this weather?”

  “It’s cold,” he agreed. “But not snowing. I’ll keep your sexy little body warm.”

  “Outdoor hot tubs are for summer nights,” she protested. “Not when there’s snow on the ground.”

  “You certainly have a lot of rules, Aria.”

  She wondered if that was true and if so, what that meant for her, her future. With a little jolt of pain, she realized he might be right. All her life, her parents had encouraged her to focus on the future, attend the right schools, land the right job, establish her work credentials, get married, buy a house. She hadn’t taken the time to figure out what she wanted. Instead, she’d followed the path that had been set for her.

  It had been instinct that had stopped her from taking the final step and walking down the aisle. But until now she hadn’t realized that her actions had been motivated by what she thought she should do rather than what was right for her. “Well, as if I don’t have enough of my own,” she replied, “you keep adding some, too. About orgasms, what position my body should be in, what I should call you during a scene, what I should wear—”

  “Or not wear. All true.” He shot her a disarming grin. “But you have to admit, where my rules are concerned, I’m right. Those nipple balls? Hotter than hell.”

  The image floated through her mind. It wasn’t the balls that she remembered. It had been the lustful hunger in his blue, blue eyes.

  “And the orgasms? The way I’ve made you think about them has made them more powerful. Admit it. Admit it, Aria.”

  She blew out a frustrated breath.

  “Say it.”

  “Fine. Yes, Sir. You’re right.”

  “My rules are much better than yours.” He grinned. “Wait here for a minute.”

  She picked up her sweater and draped it around her shoulders, more for comfort than anything else since he had the place so warm. Even though the perspiration was evaporating, she didn’t feel chilled.

  She thought about putting away the toys and tidying the dungeon, but she honestly didn’t have the energy to move. Even folding her clothes was beyond her.

  For a few minutes, she closed her eyes and relaxed, something that had become foreign to her over the last few years. She was always on the go, heading to work or the gym, continually connected via email, telephone, video conferences.

  All of a sudden she realized she’d kept herself busy, maybe so she didn’t have to think or question her life. The knowledge was a bit sobering.

  A few minutes later, Grant returned. The sight of him, in a robe, tantalized.

  In jeans, a T-shirt, boots and a leather bomber jacket, he seemed so in charge. Dressed like this, with who-knew-what underneath his robe, he was mouthwateringly sexy. So many facets. And she appreciated them all.

  He put a pair of his beach sandals on the floor near her. “I know they’re too big for you,” he said, “but they’re better than nothing.” He held up the extra terry cloth robe he’d brought. “This, too. Honestly, Aria, the idea of having you in my clothes is a bit of a turn-on.”

  “And I thought it was you wanting to get into my pants,” she returned.

  “Don’t think I won’t.”

  His words were every bit an intriguing promise.

  “Stand up. I want to look at your body to see if I marked you.” He extended his hand.

  Aria wasn’t sure why this seemed so intimate, but it did. He’d flogged her, fucked her, tied her up, bathed her pussy after sex. But it seemed he knew exactly the things to say that made her aware of his command over her.

  She accepted his hand.

  “You are unbelievably sexy.” He continued to draw her toward him and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

  This part of the BDSM experience rocked her. The flogging had actually hurt at times, especially when some of the tails had wrapped around and bitten into her skin. But before she’d even protested, there’d been another sensation. And he’d mixed it all up with tenderness. The combination of consent, pain and gentleness was heady stuff, feeling like a rush of wine or the most potent of drugs through her system, leaving her lightheaded.

  “Let me see your backside.”

  Slowly, she spun.

  “Stop.”

  He traced lines along her back. “This one is gorgeous. It wrapped around, here…” He moved his fingers along her ribcage. “And this one…” He ran his thumb across the upper part of her left thigh. “How do they feel?”

  “Fine. I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

  “Do they hurt?”

  “Not any longer. The first one did initially, but I don’t even remember the one on my thigh.”

  His hands were on her shoulders, and he turned her to face him again. “I can’t tell you how much the sight of these appeal to me.”

  Yielding to instinct, she responded, “Thank you.”

  He hissed in a breath, and his eyes darkened with simmering desire. In that moment, Aria saw the power she had over him. It was not all about him, she realized. He might command her, but she affected him equally.

  “I’ve gotta have a picture of you in them,” he said. “On the cross with your head tipped back and your body open
for me. I’ll project it on the wall of the workshop. You’re much more inspiring than a landscape.”

  She shook her head, but she realized he wasn’t joking. She’d never been with anyone who’d given her so much approval. This man was proving irresistible, and she wondered how in the hell she was supposed to leave him.

  The way her thought process had changed in such a short time astounded her.

  Several days ago, she hadn’t wanted to leave the mild weather and high energy of her California lifestyle. She and Grant had made a lot of progress on the work she’d been sent to accomplish. No doubt the enforced break from her normal responsibilities had been good for her. She felt more rested, more invigorated than she had in a long time.

  She recognized that her interaction with Grant was the reason. No doubt his home and its location in the spectacular mountains of New Mexico were part of it, but it was more about the man himself. He’d changed her life, introduced her to things she’d never known existed.

  After she convinced him to take a larger role at Bonds—something Julien might also have to help with—there’d be no reason to stay any longer.

  The idea of going back to her previous life left her chilled in a way that had little to do with the evening temperature.

  “Hot tub,” he said, as if reminding them both.

  She sat to remove her boots then slid her feet into the sandals he’d brought for her. “You’re right. They’re ridiculous. I feel as if I’m wearing a clown costume or something.”

  He laughed. “They’re adorable.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been called adorable.”

  “Let’s go.” He plucked the sweater from her shoulders and held the robe for her.

  “I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”

  He opened the door after she was huddled beneath the terry material.

  Cold air swirled in around her ankles. She shivered and pulled the lapels tighter across her chest, keeping her fingers buried in the warmth. “This is insane. You’re insane.”

  “In that case, let’s go to the edge of madness together.”

  How could she resist an invitation like that?

  “Move it,” he urged.