I Will Not Beg

by Cherise Sinclair

  He waited, watching her with patient eyes. Giving her the choice. Talk or leave or…continue.

  She could continue.

  Her gaze lifted, and she saw how his lips were tipping up. When she met his eyes, the floor started to sink. She took a step forward—her choice—and his arms closed around her.

  He drew her up onto her tiptoes and thoroughly, mercilessly, kissed away the last lingering hint of anxiety, leaving only excitement behind.

  God, how did he do that?

  In no hurry, he unbuttoned her shirt partway and slowly traced burning lines over each inch of newly bared skin. He pushed the garment down from her shoulders to her elbows, trapping her arms at her sides. Her bra straps followed, adding to the clothing restraint.

  Intent eyes held hers as he cupped her breasts, lifted, weighed, kneaded. “You have beautiful breasts. Did I mention that before?”

  She could only swallow. Her breasts swelled under his caresses, the skin tightening. His confident fingers stroked beneath, over, circling. Never touching her aching nipples. She pressed against him, wanting more.

  He chuckled and ignored her silent plea.

  When he finally touched one nipple and rolled it between his fingers, electricity shot through her in torrid streaks, searing outward and downward. Her eyes closed against the overwhelming urgency.

  “Eyes on me, poppet,” he said softly.

  She forced her eyes open, and he brushed a kiss over her mouth. “I like looking into your eyes, seeing your need, seeing all the things you don’t say.”

  He curled his palm under her right breast, holding it firmly, like a tether, as with his other hand, he rolled the nipple and pinched the tip.

  Heat sheeted through her like hot rain. She stared up at him, transfixed by his heavy-lidded stare, secured from even moving by his ruthless hold on her breast. Her legs began to shake.

  “Very nice. Let’s find a more appropriate location to continue.” He unbuttoned the rest of her shirt and undid the front clasp of her bra. “Remove these, please.”

  She blinked, then slid her shirt and bra off, laying them on the couch.

  His gaze was warm as he drew a fingertip over her collarbone, between her breasts, down her stomach, making her acutely aware that she was naked from the waist up. Hot tingles trailed in the wake of his touch.

  With a warm hand on the bare skin of her lower back, he guided her to the stairway, up a few steps, and halted. “Pants off.”

  She swallowed past a suddenly dry throat and unbuckled her belt. After unbuttoning, she lowered the zipper and pushed her pants down. Stepping out, she leaned down to pick them up.

  A hand on her nape kept her bent as he stroked along the edge of her thong. Could a fingertip sizzle? His merciless grip on her neck contrasted with the teasingly insistent touch over the exposed part of her buttocks and her hips, continuing until she was so very aware—and resentful—of the barrier of her underwear.

  A light tug on her hair straightened her.

  Up several more stairs. Her heart rate increased with each step.

  He stopped. His murmured, “Thong off, now” sent a shudder of need through her.

  She slid the black lace garment down, stepped out, and leaned down to pick it up. His hand between her shoulder blades kept her bent in half.

  “Hang onto the railing, please.” He curled her fingers around the lower railing, then patted her right knee. “Move this foot up two steps.”

  Oh my God. Her head spun. Bent in half, clinging to the railing with both hands, she moved her foot up.

  “That’s perfect, pet.” With firm fingers, he kneaded her buttocks and ran his fingertips over the crease between her bottom and thighs.

  She shivered and moved slightly. His palm flattened on her low back to hold her still.

  Heart thumping hard, she waited for the sound of his zipper. She wasn’t scared; the heat inside her had burned the fear to ash.

  “You’re such a brave girl.” His hand moved lower. Down her buttocks. Brushed over her inner thighs.

  Expecting him to take her—not touch her, she jerked.

  “Don’t move, subbie.” The steel in the mesmerizingly smooth voice froze her in place.

  His hand slid between her legs in an unhurried exploration of her slick pussy. His fingers traced her recesses, from puckered rim to her mound. One finger skated past her clit and brushed over the top. Just that lightest of touches sent shockwaves of excitement shooting through her.

  Slowly he moved his finger down to her entrance and slid inside. Invading, probing. She jerked at the intimacy.

  His low voice was a caress—and a command. “Don’t move, Piper.”

  Curling his finger, he massaged a sensitive area with unerring precision, pressing harder, sending desire roaring through her. Her insides began to gather in a coil of excitement.

  He pulled back, then worked two fingers in, stretching her, taking control from her with every touch.

  When he stepped back, she barely smothered the whimper of need.

  “Up you come, poppet.” His grip on her upper arm helped her stand upright.

  Her legs were wobbly, her pussy so wet she could feel the moisture on her inner thighs.

  He held her steady as he guided her up the stairs to the bedroom.

  She’d seen his bedroom before. But this time, the black metal canopy bed was different. Huge. The geometric design above the padded headboard seemed ominous…and erotic.

  He stopped her in the center of the room. “Stand right here.”

  Her heart galloped against the inside of her rib cage. With her head bowed, all she could see were her toes curling in the off-white carpet, his pant legs, and his sock-clad feet.

  She was naked; he was dressed.

  He walked in a leisurely circle around her, trailing his fingers against her bare skin. “You have a lovely body, Piper. Beautiful legs. I like the curve of your hips, the roundness of your arse.” His hand curved over her bottom and squeezed.

  He liked the way she looked. The inside of her chest felt as if the sun was warming it.

  Moving in front of her, he lifted her chin and took her lips—not gently, but devastatingly possessive and deep. He gripped her hair to pull her head back farther. An iron-hard arm held her against him.

  The room swirled, blurring everything except the feel of his mouth, the ownership of his tongue.

  “Mmm.” He rubbed his cheek against hers, his jawline beard softly abrasive. “Piper, look at me.” The command was a masculine rumble in her ear before he straightened.

  “Sir?” She met his gaze.

  “You told me your limits. Now I’d like to find out what you enjoy.” He smiled slightly.

  She almost sighed, wanting him to kiss her again. His lips were so firm and yet soft and—

  “I need a yes from you if you want to continue.” He pulled the scrunchie from her ponytail and finger combed her hair to fall in wavy tickles past her shoulders. “Or you can say no, and we’ll simply stop at this point. That’s allowed, poppet.”

  As he stepped back from her and waited, her thoughts stuttered. She could tell him no…at this late stage? She could see his thick erection straining against his pants. He wanted her.

  But he’d stop. If that was what she wanted. The difference between him and the one before had never seemed so vast. Her agreement mattered to him. “Yes. Please.”

  His eyes warmed. “Your courage astounds me, sweetheart.” And he gathered her into his arms as if he could see how much she needed to be held. As if he knew how hollow she felt, making that decision for herself. She rubbed her cheek against the crisp smoothness of his shirt. Breathed in the pine and leather scent of his lingering aftershave.

  After a long, wonderful time, he pulled back.

  He set his hand on her shoulder, undoubtedly feeling her quiver under his powerful grip. He ran his other hand down her front and squeezed one breast, molding it in his palm. His thumb circled the nipple.

  Just l

ike that, both nipples spiked with need, and her pussy started to throb. Gaze on her face, he held her completely still as he played. Teased. Tormented.

  “Lie down on the bed, please. On your back. Legs open.”

  The tingling spread over her skin. Now. It was going to be now. Breathing fast, she climbed onto the high bed and across the black-and-gray comforter.

  Turning onto her back, she watched him strip. She would never grow tired of seeing him without a shirt. A sigh of pleasure escaped her. His biceps and deltoids bunched as he moved, and her fingers longed to touch, to see if his muscles were as hard as they looked. His chest was broad and…

  This time she could truly see the long scar that bisected the coarse chest hair. A white scar, so whatever had hurt him had happened a long time in the past.

  Her gaze took in the six-pack abdomen and followed the dark happy-trail to a long, thick erection. Of course, even his cock was gorgeous. And really big.

  She swallowed hard.

  After setting his clothing on a chair, he looked her over in turn. The glint of masculine satisfaction sent an edgy hum along her nerve endings.

  Taking a condom from the nightstand, he covered his long, engorged shaft.

  He joined her on the bed. Settled between her legs. After pinning her wrists above her head, he set his cock against her entrance and pressed in, slowly. Relentlessly. She was aroused and slick, but it had been years, and she struggled to accommodate him.

  And yet, and yet… The ruthless impaling satisfied something so deep inside, she couldn’t name it.

  He set his arm beside her shoulder, bracing his weight. His gaze on her face, he watched her carefully as his shaft sank deeper until he was sheathed to the hilt.

  Barely breathing, she throbbed around his thickness. Slowly, her insides softened. Preparing for more.

  He kissed her lightly, then pulled back and pushed in. Not fast, just a deliberate, unhurried savoring. His sensual lips were slightly curved. “You do feel magnificent, pet.”

  With every thrust, he moved his hips, tilting and changing the angles where his cockhead struck.

  One place was…sensitive. Her nerves there startled awake, and a shudder ran through her. Her nipples contracted tightly, and her hips rose.

  A corner of his mouth kicked up. “There, hmm?”

  His next few thrusts were there, right there, and urgency grew inside her. His strokes increased to a hard hammering. So good.

  “And you like that, too,” he murmured before slowing. Stopping.

  When she opened her eyes, he was still, watching her with his perceptive gaze.

  “What…” She swallowed. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, sweetheart.” He took her mouth, obviously not angry or unhappy. “I just wanted you warmed up from the inside first.”

  Warmed up? Before…what?

  He nibbled on her jaw and then released her wrists. “It would please me if you keep your arms over your head.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She wouldn’t move them an inch, she vowed, no matter what he did.

  His face was gentle when he cupped her cheek and kissed her lightly. “So sweet.”

  He pulled out slowly, leaving her empty inside, throbbing with need. Unhurriedly, he moved down her body, kissing, nibbling.

  As he stroked and kneaded her breasts, bit by bit, his hands grew rougher, building up the anticipation until finally, his fingers plucked her nipples.

  She arched up with a moan. And froze in fear, stiffening in preparation for the blow.

  “Piper.”

  He didn’t hit her. Motionless, his hands cupped her breasts. When she lifted her gaze to his face, his expression held only…patience. “Poppet, what did I say about you talking or making noise?”

  I like hearing you—moans, whines, screams.

  “You like hearing me.”

  “Very good. Do keep that in mind.” No anger or irritation darkened his voice. He sounded like someone ordering a cup of coffee. “Eyes on me, Piper.”

  Oh, God. There was a funny twisting inside at the realization that nothing shook this Dom. Not anything she did. Not even his body’s needs. His control over himself—and her—was absolute.

  His gaze stayed on her as he resumed playing with her breasts, building up the ache again before he tugged on her nipples. When he rolled the peaks between his tightly pinched thumb and finger, the painful pressure was so intensely pleasurable she moaned again.

  “Perfect.” Bending down, he sucked lightly on her nipples. A light bite sent heat searing through her before he moved down. He nuzzled her belly and lower until his breath puffed warm against her mound.

  His fingers parted her labia, and he studied her a minute.

  The relief that she’d shaved herself that morning made her head spin. The need for him to think she looked all right was huge, insane, because women weren’t attractive down there. Not like men and—

  “Now that’s a lovely, plump cunt,” he murmured and stroked a slow finger through her folds, up and down. Circling her clit, rubbing slightly, swirling in her wetness, doing it all again. The memory of how his cock had felt, the thrilling bliss of having him inside her was still with her, and now, his touch on her clit sent her higher and higher.

  * * *

  Christ, but she was beautiful, Ethan thought. Her arms stayed over her head. Her eyes kept closing, then she’d remember his command and force them open again. Wanting to please him. To obey him.

  She warmed his heart in a way he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

  Leaning down, he teased her briefly with his tongue—although this time, he wouldn’t do much oral. No, he wanted to watch her face and hands, her shoulders and stomach as he touched her. Make sure he didn’t trip over more triggers. He wanted to discover where she was sensitive, responsive, indifferent. Discover what amount of pressure worked for her, although that would change somewhat with the excitement levels.

  He flickered his tongue over the top of her clit and hood and felt the way her hips tensed to rise. The nub was fully exposed, a hard little ball of excitement.

  Time to up the game. On his knees between her legs, he slid two fingers into her cunt and curled them upward to massage the pebbly area of her G-spot. With his other hand, he traced a finger in circles around her clit.

  Her breathing revved up to fast and shallow.

  So beautifully responsive to touch. To domination. She liked some pain on her breasts and nipples. She liked being hammered with a dick. He’d have to try nipple clamps. Maybe light spanking.

  He wasn’t a sadist, as such. Pain—light to moderate—was simply another tool in the orgasm toolbox. Still rubbing her G-spot, he used his other hand and drew his fingernails from her low stomach, over her plump mound, to barely above her clit.

  She gasped, and her cunt clamped around his fingers. Very nice. He did it again, harder, more painfully, leaving red marks on her bare mound.

  Her body quivered. Her eyes had glazed with arousal.

  Yes, this was a pain she liked. How much pain? Watching her carefully, he lightly slapped her pussy, right where he’d scratched.

  Her body went rigid, her cunt a vise around his fingers. So very, very close.

  Bending, he closed his lips over her clit, tonguing and sucking it as he drove his fingers in and out. Her hips bucked, and with a delightful keening cry, she came. Her cunt spasmed around his fingers in rhythmic waves as her chest, neck, and face flushed a vivid pink.

  “You are truly gorgeous.” Pulling his fingers out, he leaned forward and set his shaft at her entrance.

  As he thrust into the head-spinning heat, the walls of her cunt beat at his dick. “You feel incredible, sweetheart.”

  “Oh God, I’m coming again.”

  He laughed because she was. The spasms increased, fisting his cock, hot and hard. “Let’s see how long we can make it last.”

  He lifted himself slightly to enjoy the sight of his slick cock sinking deep into her.

  Since she liked being pounded, he set up a hard rhythm that should satisfy them both. She was tight around him and beautifully soft beneath him. “Put your arms around my shoulders, legs around my waist.”

  The change in position pressed her lush breasts against his chest and threatened his control.

  Her knees gripped his hips. She was still making orgasmic whimpers with each contraction of her cunt.

  “Move your knees higher, poppet.”

  When she complied, her pelvis tilted up, letting him drive deeper. Very, very nice.

  A nova of anticipation grew at the base of his spine as his balls drew up, firming to a throbbing hardness. The feeling was…amazing.

  A hand under her ass held her still as he drove into her with short, sharp strokes. Fire roared through him, crushing his balls and searing his dick as he came in forceful, jerking jets. The cascading pleasure ripped through every part of him as he pressed deep, and she gripped him with arms, legs, and cunt.

  After an infinitely pleasurable time, he tucked a hand under her head so he could kiss her. Her mouth was soft, willing. Giving. A kiss with heart.

  He was still buried in her, and the tiny post-orgasmic spasms of her cunt set off matching happy twitches of his dick.

  Settling in, he kept kissing her—because he hadn’t had so much fun kissing someone in ages.

  * * *

  Piper’s heart was like a drug-crazed prisoner, banging frantically against her ribcage. Her thoughts swirled around her brain with almost the same wildness.

  She’d gotten off—and more than once.

  Sir Ethan had made sure she reached climax. She’d known he was good with his hands, but oh my God, she’d never come so hard in her life. Not even with her fingers. Even more, he’d gone down on her, using his mouth, his tongue. Doms—Masters—didn’t do that. Slaves did oral for Masters, not vice versa.

  As he started to soften and pulled out, she sighed at the empty feeling. At the return to reality. She should—

  He slid over next to her and tucked her up against his side. She froze. He was cuddling her? Not shoving her away and telling her to clean him. Not sending her to bed down on the floor.

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