by Desiree Holt
“Of course.” He bowed and walked away.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “You don’t mind me ordering for you, right?” But it wasn’t really a question.
“Of course not.” She lowered her voice slightly. “Whatever you like.”
“Whatever I like?” His lips turned up in his hot smile. “Those could be dangerous words, Miss Abbie Lawlor. You don’t know what it is I like.”
“Maybe you don’t know what I like,” she teased.
His searing look bore straight into the center of her. “No, I don’t. But you could tell me. In fact, I very much want to know what you like.” He picked up the menu. “We should order now. I think we ended up so close together in the bar for a reason. I think tonight is going to turn out much better than I imagined.”
Studying her own menu, Abbie hoped his comfortable air of taking charge and giving orders indicated the real person lurking beneath the surface. Her submissive self could hardly wait for dinner to be over.
Chapter Two
Sam had no idea how he made it through dinner without dragging Abbie away from the table and up to his room. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had jacked him up that way. The minute he’d spotted her in the bar, his cock had swelled to the point he feared it might pierce the fabric of his slacks. And Sam Burdette never got that hard that fast. Not anymore, anyway.
He’d begun to worry he’d become so jaded no woman really appealed to him so strongly and instantly any more. At thirty-seven, he’d played the club scene for ten years, perfecting his skills as a Dom and enjoying the company of a number of willing subs. But he wanted more. He wanted someone who wouldn’t forget his name the moment their Dom/sub play ended. Someone who wanted something beyond the confines of the room. The club.
He wanted something long-term. With stability. A sub as much into pushing the edge of a Dominant/submissive relationship as he was, but who also brought the emotion necessary for a permanent one.
His finely tuned radar had drawn him directly to Abbie Lawlor in the bar. Now he hoped he hadn’t overreacted, perhaps ascribing something to her that didn’t exist. But his instincts told him, no, he hadn’t been wrong—she gave off the vibes of a latent sub without a Dom. Maybe without much experience. His mouth watered at the thought of teaching her the role of a sub and the pleasure it would give them both.
Watching her eat dinner had been pure torture. Every time she chewed and swallowed and licked her lips, he imagined them wrapped around his cock while she kneeled in front of him, hands behind her back. He nearly came sitting there. Jesus! He couldn’t remember the last time a woman tempted him that much. A vision of her naked on his bed, ass lifted in the air for a spanking or a paddling burst in his mind. He’d almost had to drink his entire glass of ice water to cool down.
Slow, he cautioned himself. Take it slow. Even if he hadn’t misread the signals, he had a strong feeling this woman was a fairly untutored sub, and experimentation would be the key word.
At last the meal ended. As they walked out of the restaurant, he took her hand in his, his thumb rubbing against the pulse point at the inside of her wrist. It beat against his touch, the rhythm a tiny bit fast, a tiny bit erratic.
Okay, here goes.
He eased her into a niche in the hallway, cupped her cheeks with both hands and lowered his mouth to hers.
Jesus!
Her lips were so soft and warm, full and sensuous. He didn’t even have to coax her to part them for him. She opened automatically, letting his tongue sweep in and taste every delectable inch of her. She melted into him as if they’d somehow exchanged silent signals, her soft breasts pressed against his chest, her tongue dancing with his.
He broke the kiss only when he needed oxygen. Hell, he’d been ready to strip her naked in the midst of the crowd surging around them.
“Sorry,” he said in a strangled voice.
“What?” She stared up at him, her eyes glazed. “Sorry?”
He huffed a breath. “Not for kissing you, sugar. Only for getting carried away out here.” He took her hand and led her toward the elevator.
She came along obediently. “Where are we going?”
“To my room.” He jabbed the button impatiently with his free hand then cradled her chin in his hand. “That okay with you?”
The answer was in her eyes before she even spoke the words. A hidden need sprang to life, a hunger that had been humming along beneath the surface for…who knew how long.
Karma, Sam. Thank God for karma. She wet her lips, teasing him again with her tongue. “Yes. All right. Of course.”
Sam thought the elevator would never reach his floor. Only the fact people were jammed in around them kept him from kissing her again.
At last they reached his room. He locked the door, backed her up against the wall and pulled her to him again, taking her mouth hungrily, his hands molding the curve of her nice round ass. She wound her arms around her neck, sucking on his tongue, her soft breasts imprinting on his chest.
He couldn’t get enough of her mouth, licking every inch, then tracing the inside of her lips. Jesus, she tasted so good. Like vanilla ice cream spiked with cinnamon. He’d bet she turned into a wild thing when aroused. Yet, she still had a certain unspoiled sweetness about her, as if waiting for the right man to come along and master her.
And I damn well want to be that man.
It occurred to him he’d left his suitcase open on the bed, with all his toys in it. An unrepentant Dom, he’d hoped to get lucky that weekend. He had a guest pass to a private bondage club in San Antonio he’d expected to use that night. Maybe connect with a sub that he could entice back to his room for part of the weekend. He thought about getting his luggage out of sight quickly, but maybe it would be good for Miss Abbie to spot the toys lying there. Get her reaction so he’d know if his radar actually worked.
He stepped back, tugging her with him. Her hand felt warm to his touch. He motioned toward the bed and the instant she saw the open suitcase, her eyes widened.
“Oh!” Her lips formed a perfect circle. Of surprise? Delight?
Oh, yeah. Definitely delight as she took it all in—the flogger, the handcuffs, the dildos, the silk scarf, and other items. He’d been right about her from that first look.
“You know what those are, sugar?” He held his breath, waiting for her answer. If she said no, he’d tell her and if she showed interest, okay. If not, okay, too. But the look on Miss Abigail Lawlor’s face telegraphed not only interest but also shy eagerness.
“Yes.” She swallowed. “I do. Are you…?”
“A Dom?” he finished for her. “Yes. I am.” He ran a finger down her arm, and she rewarded him with a delicious shiver. “You like to play, sugar?”
“Um, yes. Oh, yes. Definitely.”
A feeling of possessiveness gripped him, so primitive his body clenched. What was going on here? They barely knew each other. He let out a slow breath. “Time for a gut check here, Abbie. How long have you been doing this? How experienced are you?”
A blush suffused her cheeks. “Not—all that experienced.” She twisted her hands together, her gaze lowered in a perfectly submissive gesture. “I only discovered I, um, liked this a couple of years ago.”
“How’d that happen?”
She shrugged. “I…read some books and the subject fascinated me. The books made me curious about it. I, uh, went online to do some research.”
“And?” he prompted.
“And I met some people. Talked to them.”
“What about playing for real?” He put one finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up to see her face. “The truth, Abbie. You can’t lie to your Dom. How often and how much?”
“Not a lot. Not enough. I…the club scene didn’t work for me.” She glanced down again. “I think I want…something different than the people who go to the clubs.”
“Yeah?” He forced her to meet his eyes again. “Like what?”
She shrugged. “You know. Different.�
� Her voice was so soft he could barely hear her.
He rubbed his thumb back and forth against her jawline. “Different, huh? Well, let’s see if we can help you find whatever it is you’re looking for. Maybe by the time tonight is over, you’ll find it.” He brushed a kiss over her lips. “Maybe I will, too.”
“B-but we only met a couple of hours ago. I mean—”
“Sometimes that’s all it takes.” He bit the lobe of her ear gently while he caressed her neck then dropped his hand to the swell of her breasts. “Sometimes it’s not how long you know a person, but how well. I plan for us to get to know each other very, very well tonight. Then we’ll see. All right?”
She took a deep breath, her breasts rising to fill his palm, before exhaling. “Okay. Yes. I want to.”
He hadn’t realized how much he wanted her to say yes. He studied her face. “You have to know I would never cause you pain beyond that which gives you pleasure. That I would be diligent in the aftercare. That I would respect your boundaries.”
She hesitated a moment, then nodded.
“Tonight will be a small experiment to see if our needs mesh in a way that satisfies us both.” He stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “I have a feeling we’ll be a good fit.”
She wet her lower lip with her tongue, a movement that nearly undid him. “I—I think so, too.”
He smiled. “All right then. First we need your safe word.”
Mischief glinted in her eyes and the hint of a smile played on her lips. “Ranger. My safe word is ranger.”
He had a hard time not smiling himself. “Ranger it is.” He cleared his throat, focusing his mind on the two of them. “I want you to take your clothes off very slowly. Don’t look at me while you undress, but stop after you remove each garment so I can appreciate what I’m seeing.”
He sat down in an armchair, one ankle resting on the opposite knee and waited for her to begin.
Abbie tried to keep her fingers from shaking as she unbuttoned the little pearl buttons on her blouse. It wasn’t fear that had her rattled but rather anticipation. For so many nights she’d been dreaming of this situation. Meeting that one right Dom she could connect with. She’d felt the invisible tug in the bar, and it had grown stronger during dinner, just as Sam said. They knew nothing about each other except that this felt so very, very right.
She eased the blouse from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor, waiting with head bowed while he looked at her. She felt the heat of his gaze on her.
“You have such gorgeous breasts,” he said, his voice husky. “I want to see them without the bra. Take it off and come over here.”
Obediently she unhooked the bra, dropped it on top of her blouse and walked over to stand in front of him. His hands were warm on her breasts as he cupped them and squeezed them, his thumbs rasping the hardening nipples. His touch electrified her. Arousing.
“Those nipples would look beautiful with clamps tightening them. Have you worn nipple clamps before, Abbie?”
She nodded. “Yes.” She’d loved the exquisite pain they brought to her, first as they tightened on her flesh, then the intense surge of pleasurable pain when the clamps were released and the blood rushed into the tissues. “Permission to speak?”
“Of course.” A note of appreciation laced his voice at her attitude.
“The clamps were my first experience with pain, and I…enjoyed it very much. I, um, thought you should know.”
He reached out and pinched her nipples. Hard. Abbie gasped as the sensation of pain filled her body and more liquid gushed into her thong. Sam inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent of her musk, and that thrilled her, too.
“That’s good,” he said at last. “It’s appropriate for you to tell me.” He sat back. “Now the skirt and the shoes.”
She removed them slowly as he’d instructed until she stood before him only in her thong, with her eyes downcast.
When he spoke, his voice was thick and raspy. “I want to do so many things to you I don’t even know where to start.”
He rose from the chair, lifted her and carried her to the bed, placing her flat on her stomach, arms and legs outstretched. In a moment a broad strip of silk covered her eyes, the ends tied at the back of her head.
“When you take away sight,” he murmured, “all the other senses become so much more enhanced.” He ran his hand down her back and the curve of her ass, his fingers trailing for a moment through the crevice. He plucked lightly at the strap of the thong nestled between her cheeks.
He brought out handcuffs, attaching them to her left wrist then threading the links through the headboard to the right one. She felt the roughness of rope around each ankle, then the tightening of it as he fastened each foot to the end of the bed.
“Lie still now,” he commanded. “The first thing a good sub learns is that obedience is the most important thing. You’ve done nothing yet to disobey me, but it’s important for you to know what happens if you should.”
She shivered in expectation of the sting on her ass. Would it be his hand? A crop? A flogger? She had experience with them all and each drove her to a different level of pleasure-pain. What would be Sam’s pleasure? She let herself sink into the darkness, the image of his face dancing against the inside of her eyelids.
“I think we’ll start slow,” he said. “Warm up that sweet ass of yours. I need to judge how you react to different levels of pain.”
Relax, relax, relax.
The sharp slap of his hand on her flesh echoed in the room. She jumped slightly then settled back on the bed. He followed the first with several more delivered in rapid succession. As the heat spread from the cheeks of her buttocks down into her thighs and the lips of her pussy, her inner muscles began to pulse with tiny spasms. She tried to anticipate when the next blow would fall but like all the other Doms she’d been with, there was no established rhythm to them. That made the anticipation so much greater, and the pain more enjoyable, and without her sight, the feeling intensified.
The pain, sharp like a wand of fire, swept over her skin. But she embraced it, welcomed it, her pussy clenching in response, her juices flowing. She wanted it. Needed it. Needed it with Sam, so much better than with any other Dom she’d played with. What a shock to discover this total stranger provided the missing element she’d been searching for.
“Your ass is gorgeous.” Sam said, his voice thick with lust. “It turns such a beautiful shade of red. And you took the pain so well. I think we haven’t begun to reach your threshold yet. I can’t wait to see what the flogger does.”
He caressed her hot buttocks with one hand then slipped lower, pulling the thong aside to tease her hungry pussy.
“Soaked.” His tone hummed with satisfaction. “The crotch of your thong is so wet you must have been creaming all through dinner.”
His lips pressed against first one cheek of her ass then the other. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so aroused and they’d barely begun.
“You may answer me,” he told her in what had to be his Dom voice. “Were you hot? Were you thinking about me fucking you? Spanking you? Maybe clamping those gorgeous nipples.”
“Yesss,” she hissed. “Yes, I was.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He gave a self-satisfied chuckle and pinched her buttocks. “I think this is going to be even better than I hoped. Have you been flogged by any of your Doms? I need to know.”
“Yes, Sir,” she answered.
“Good. Then you know what to expect. I like to use either the flogger or the crop after spanking with my hand. The flogger is easier on you so I think that’s what we’ll use tonight.” He placed a kiss on her shoulder. “I think it’s good practice to always remind a sub who’s in charge and what punishment is waiting for those who disobey.” She heard a soft chuckle. “But I’ll bet you’re one of those subs who begs for punishment. Right?”
She nodded her head. It had been a revelation to her exactly how pain stimul
ated her. Then what else he’d said registered with her.
Tonight? Always? Does that mean he wants to be with me again?
Hope blossomed inside her.
The leather straps of the flogger kissed her skin as he slowly dragged them back and forth across her buttocks. Without warning the first strike fell, a sharp crack across her already fiery skin. A jolt of lust speared through her body, sending a fresh spate of cream from her pussy, and scorching her nipples. After two or three blows he slid his fingers into her cunt, moving them around and stimulating her even more. Abbie wished she could squeeze her thighs together but spread-eagled it became an impossibility.
By the time he’d finished with the flogger, she was beyond aroused, burning with an intense need for him. She tried to wriggle her hips to rub her clit against the fabric of the bedclothes but her restrained position didn’t allow for much movement.
Sam laughed again, a low rusty sound. “No rubbing that needy little clit, my anxious sub. That’s my privilege alone, unless I command you to.”
She swallowed the little moan that crept into her throat. She wanted so badly to please him, to contain herself until he gave her permission for release, but he made her so hot she had a hard time with control.
He gripped the top edge of her thong and ripped it.
So much for the new thong.
He put his mouth close to her ear, his warm breath caressing her skin. “I’ll buy you a new one. Ten new ones. And I might rip every one of them off this way again.” He licked the shell of her ear. “Do you object?”
She shook her head. “Whatever pleases my Sir, pleases me.”
His laugh rumbled through her. “Sugar, I think you’re a natural who’s been waiting for the right man to come along.”
And you have no idea how much I hope it’s you.
His hand slipped between her thighs again, exploring the swollen lips of her cunt, sliding into her, two fingers then three, finding her sweet spot and teasing, teasing, teasing.
Oh, God, she wanted to come so badly. And he had to know it, too. But he hadn’t finished imposing his will yet. And testing her. Yes. Testing her. And she definitely wanted to please him with her submission.