by Ivy Barrett
“I know I do,” she snapped. “That’s the point of all this.”
“So answer the question. Do you expect me to resist even when you’re begging me to fuck you? I’m not sure any man alive has that much control.” He turned his head to assess her response.
Her chin came up and her gaze narrowed. “When, and if, I beg for it, you’re free to give me—everything.”
“Then I have a few conditions of my own.”
She tensed for a moment, then asked, “And they are?”
“For the duration of every lesson, you do exactly what I say without argument, or exception.” She started to speak, but he held up his hand. “That’s nonnegotiable.”
“Fine, as long as you adhere to my limitations.” She didn’t look pleased, but she didn’t argue. “What else?”
“You will remain respectful, but I don’t require silence.”
“Good. I have a tendency to speak my mind.”
“The lessons will continue until I feel you have a well-rounded understanding of the options available to you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, squirming in her seat. “Why is that important?” She appeared to be as turned on by this negotiation as he was. Good. Let her taste the misery waiting for him.
“Because you might resist certain lessons more than others, but challenging your boundaries is the point of this little arrangement.”
After a long pause, she said, “All right.”
His heart slammed against his ribs and his cock bucked beneath his zipper. Had Katie just agreed to be his submissive? No. She’d agreed to torment him with teasing glimpses of what it would be like to have her as his submissive. “Failing to adhere to any of these rules will immediately terminate our agreement.”
“I understand.”
“Then you have a sexual mentor.” He smiled as his imagination raced on ahead.
KATIE’S HEART WAS POUNDING by the time Josiah pulled into her driveway. She’d just unleashed a lion. She could sense his restless energy, his mind churning, thinking of all the things he was going to do to her. And the prospect of being at his mercy was infinitely more thrilling than it should have been. She was anxious, uncertain even, but not really afraid. Maybe that was further proof of her naiveté.
Would he schedule her lessons, or just show up unannounced? Did he have a choice? She was pretty sure he didn’t have her phone number or email address?
Without a word he got out of the car and walked around to open her door. Somehow, he made the old-fashion gesture feel sweet, rather than pretentious. They stepped onto the porch together and she pulled her keys out of her purse.
“Lesson number one begins right now,” he informed her as he took the keys out of her hand and unlocked the door.
“But I’m not—”
He silenced her with his fingers. “No arguments, remember?”
Shit. This was going to be much harder than she realized.
After opening the door, he ushered her inside. She glanced around, cringing at the dirty dishes on the coffee table and the layer of dust on the bookshelves. Her living room was small and somewhat shabby compared to his mansion. Her small couch and the matching recliners were older than his entire house.
The setting made no difference to him. His gaze was fixed on her. He crossed the room and sat in her favorite recliner, then flipped on the lamp on the small table beside it. “This lesson is called Intro to BDSM. Now undress completely, and we’ll begin.” He crossed his legs, rested his hands on the chair’s padded arms, and watched her expectantly.
She looked around in bewildered silence, mouth gone completely dry. What the hell had she agreed to? It was broad daylight and he expected her to get naked in the middle of her living room? “Can we at least—”
“Now.” Though his voice was no louder, authority sapped through his tone.
Her hands sook as she pulled her sweater off over her head and draped it over the back of the other recliner. Was teaching him a lesson really worth humiliating herself like this?
Calm down, Fyn coached in her mind, and soothing warmth cascaded through her body. Take deep breaths as you finish, and don’t look at him. This is a test of your sincerity. He’s still not sure what you’re up to.
Neither am I, she confessed, but she kept undressing. Her bra was designed for comfort not fashion, but she still hesitated to take it off. Instead, she toed off her shoes and unzipped her jeans. He’d already seen her body, so why was this so awkward?
Because your asshole boyfriend made you uncomfortable with your curves. She knew Fyn was right, but understanding it and overcoming it were two vastly different things.
“Good lord, woman. It’s a good thing neither of us has anywhere else to be today,” he grumbled, but humor gleamed in his eyes. “Do you need help?” He started to stand.
“No.” She waved him back. “I’ve got it.” She wiggled out of the jeans and unhooked the front clasp of her bra, but her fingers refused to release the cups.
He stood and brushed her hands aside, then tugged the straps slowly down her arms. The bra fell to the carpet as his large, warm hands engulfed her breasts.
She groaned, closing her eyes. How could such a simple touch make her entire body feel hot?
“You’re lovely, and so soft. Look at me.” He squeezed her firmly to emphasis his directive and she slowly opened her eyes. “Last night was a thank-you that we all enjoyed very much, but that level of play will never satisfy me for long.” Before she could speak, he quickly added, “I think you’re concerned that it won’t satisfy you either. Is that why we’re here?” He shifted his touch to her nipples, lightly pinching and rolling the sensitive flesh.
“Yes.” She gasped, arching into the nearly painful touch. “I’ve always been curious about this sort of thing.”
“Take off your underwear and open your legs.” He released her nipples so she could obey.
Shoving her self-consciousness out of the way, she pulled her panties down and kicked them aside. This was so embarrassing. Cool air teased her pussy and made her nipples tingle. She desperately wanted to fold her arms over her chest. Instead, she stared straight ahead and moved her feet farther apart. Her lower lips parted, offering more of her heated flesh to the cooling air. She shivered, wishing he would touch her rather than just stand there staring at her naked body.
“Raise your arms and lock your hands behind your head.”
Seriously? Like standing here naked wasn’t bad enough? Slowly, she did as he asked. The position lifted her breasts and arched her back, blatantly displaying her body.
“Very good.” He placed his hands on her wrists as he began his explanation. “The focus today is the dynamics of D/s play.” He slid his hands down her upraised arms and paused just below her armpits. “I think it’s easier to understand if you use the term power exchange.” His thumbs brushed against the outer swell of her breasts over and over, soothing her, yet teasing her. “The submissive must willingly surrender their power to the Dominant or the interaction is abusive. Period. Does that make sense?”
“Yes.”
“The proper response is, ‘Yes, Sir’.”
She looked up at that, but whispered, “Yes, Sir.”
“Many Doms find direct eye contact disrespectful. I’m not one of them, but it will be a common expectation whenever you play.” He shifted his thumbs to the underside of her breasts, so his touch was less intimate. “Do you freely consent to this lesson, knowing I will touch you in ways you might not find comfortable?”
Not comfortable as in embarrassing? Or not comfortable as in he intended to hurt her? “May I ask a question, Sir?”
He smiled, but quickly fought it back. “You may ask, but that’s not saying I will answer.”
“What do you mean by uncomfortable?”
“Part of the fun is not knowing what’s coming. If I gave you a detailed explanation of what I intend to do, it would lessen the intensity for both of us. You either trust me or you don’t.
”
She closed her eyes. That was the problem. She did trust him, but knew damn well she shouldn’t. How twisted was that? She quickly licked her lips as she opened her eyes. “I consent, Sir. Please challenge me.”
Immediately his hands returned to her breasts and possessive fire erupted in his gaze. “You are mine, Katie-cat. Mine to touch any way I find pleasurable, mine to examine, mine to hurt.” As if to prove his point, he caught her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and pinched hard.
Pain shot through her breasts, dragging a startled cry from her throat. Before she could object, however, he bent and sucked each pebbled tip into his mouth, soothing the sting with his warm, wet tongue. She’d just about recovered when he alternated sides, hurting one nipple while he soothed the other. The combination was confusing. She instinctively moved her hands to his head and tried to pull him away.
“Hands up!” He reached back and slapped her ass, first one side, and then the other.
What the hell! “You were hurting me. Am I just supposed to stand here and take it?”
“Yes,” he said without equivocation. “Now lock your hands behind your head and keep them there.”
“But—”
Another hard swat preempted her objection. “You consented to this, which means you’re mine until the lesson is over.”
He’d warned her and she’d agreed to obey. Still...
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Challenge rippled through his tone as he raked his hair with one hand, the other resting on her hip. “We’ve barely begun to descend into the world in which I live.”
He made it sound so dramatic, and so dismal, she couldn’t help but smile. “You make yourself sound like the Phantom of the Opera or something.”
He heaved a weary sigh and pulled back his hand. “The description is not that far off.” The pain, the carefully guarded vulnerability, returned to his gaze for just a second, and then it was gone again. “It might be better if Chase—”
“No,” she said firmly, then locked her hands behind her head and looked deep into his eyes. “I asked you, not Chase.”
His gaze narrowed and his fingers returned to her nipples, rolling and lightly pulling, but not hurting. “Why is that, Katie-cat?”
She swallowed hard, finding words hard now that he was back in Dom-mode. “Chase won’t push me the way you will. Chase is too nice for this.”
He chuckled and increased the pressure until she moaned. He didn’t let go right away, just keep on pinching until the pain gradually receded. “You’ll never have to worry about me being ‘too nice’.” He released her and suddenly her nipples throbbed painfully as blood rushed back in.
She gasped and panted, fighting the need to rub her abused nipples. Watching her suffer did something to him, something wicked and fascinating. His features tensed, his gaze gleaming, and his breaths were coming nearly as fast as hers.
“It makes you hard, doesn’t it?” she whispered the question without thinking.
Instead of objecting, he pushed his hand between her thighs. “Just like it makes you wet.” His fingers slid easily, lubricated by her obvious arousal.
Her eyes widened and her breath caught. Being hurt made her wet? Didn’t that make her...she refused to utter the word even in her mind. She would not accept another label. Labels had no place in her life! She was a free spirit like her precious Gran.
His fingers teased her folds, circled her clit twice, then he moved on. She groaned. Needing more than a few quick caresses. Why did people like this if there was no pleasure?
He returned to the chair, but sat on the edge of the seat, forearms on his knees. “Turn around and bend over. Grab your ankles if you feel unsteady.”
She just stared at him. He couldn’t be serious. She was not going to bend over and grab her ankles! This was absurd!
“I don’t like repeating a command. Was there something about the directive you didn’t understand.”
“No, Sir.” She gritted her teeth, but couldn’t make her body move.
“Then why are you still standing there?”
“It’s demeaning, too humiliating, too—”
He came up out of the chair and grabbed her upper arms, then returned to the recliner, dragging her with him. Soon she found herself facedown over his strong thighs, her arms trapped between his legs.
“You understand the rules, yet choose to disobey.” He brought his hand down across her butt with a resounding crack.
She cried out and struggled, but he easily held her in place.
“Disobedience is a punishable offense.” Spank, spank, spank, his hand fell again and again, setting fire to her upturned ass. “Lying is a punishable offense.”
“What the hell did I lie about?” she demanded, struggling to comprehend that this was really happening—in her own living room. She turned her head sharply, trying to see him, but her hair was in her face.
“You lied about your obedience. I don’t think you ever meant to obey me.”
Then he spanked her bare bottom over and over, alternating sides after three or four stinging slaps. First anger burned so brightly she barely registered the pain. But the bastard kept hitting her, and hitting her hard, until her entire butt was one stinging, throbbing mass. Was this supposed to be sexy? She was not enjoying anything about this! Or so she thought until his hand stopped spanking and began to explore.
“You should see your ass. It’s such an amazing color right now, deep rose.” His voice was always deep, but a sensual growl made it even deeper. His fingers skimmed over the sensitized cheeks and descended along the deep cleft. “So damn soft.”
She tensed, but didn’t move. His desire to examine her ass was what landed her over his lap. She was his to touch any way he found pleasurable. She was his. She stilled, shocked by the heat spreading through her body. Her butt still throbbed, accenting her rapid pulse, but the heat created by his firm hand flowed and twisted, sinking through her muscles and curling into her core.
“Open.” He nudged her inner thighs, leaving no doubt what he meant.
Slowly, hating herself for the easy acquiescence, she parted her thighs and made room for his questing fingers.
“Oh yeah,” He traced her slit, circling her opening without venturing inside. “You’re not just slick anymore, your soaking wet.”
She shook her head, horrified by the implication. “It’s just being naked and...”
He slapped her already sore bottom, but it was a warning, not an actual spank. “No lies. Not even to yourself. This turned you on. I bet if I keep going, you’ll come really hard.”
She said nothing, but couldn’t stop the stubborn shaking of her head.
Much to her surprise, and disappointment, he stood and pulled her to her feet. “For the record, this is not what I had planned for our first lesson.” He framed her face with his hands, looking deep into her eyes. “But learn from it. This will be as pleasurable, or as painful, as you make it. Obey me and you’ll enjoy it a lot more.”
His mouth descended and he kissed her deeply. “Go take a long, warm shower. The moisture will help your bottom recover faster. I’ll stop by later to see how you’re doing.”
He was offering “after care”, she’d read about it on the internet. If he was so damn worried about her, why did he spank her so hard? “That’s not necessary. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t. I need some time to...process all of this.”
He stared at her for a long time, as if he’d argue. Then he kissed the tip of her nose and stepped back. “I’ll honor your wishes, this first time. And our next lesson will be tomorrow at eight p.m.” He waited for some sort of answer. When she just stared back at him, he prompted, “Agreed?”
“Yes, Sir.” She barely got the words out past the lump in her throat. She wanted him gone, badly, because she knew she was about to cry and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how seriously he’d rattled her.
But he didn’t move toward the door. He picked up h
er clothes and helped her dress. She didn’t bother with underwear or the bra. The jeans felt like sandpaper against her sore behind, but Fyn would likely show up as soon as Josiah left. She was not talking to him naked.
If Josiah ever left.
“Are you all right?” he persisted.
“I’m fine.” She blinked rapidly, fighting the tears hard now. “Would you please leave?”
He ignored her and pulled her into his arms instead. “Emotional reactions are common, Katie-cat. Stop fighting it.”
A shattering sob shook her shoulders and the tears broke through her composure. She clung to him, face buried in his neck as wildly swinging emotions buffeted her heart. She felt guilt and sorrow, grief and release, all combined into an overwhelming ball of misery. And at the center of it all, she felt empty and ached from the orgasm he’d denied her.
He stroked her hair and pressed her against his chest. “Let it out, sweetheart. Just let it all out.”
And she did. She cried, and cried, until there were no more tears and even then she couldn’t find the strength to leave his embrace. He was the one who upset her, so why the hell was she looking to him for comfort?
With one last shuddering sob, she finally pushed away. “That was unexpected.”
“Not really.” He wiped the last of her tears away with his thumbs. “Some subs cry like this every time they play.”
He kept using that word. Was that all this was to him? A form of ‘play’? She knew the answer. It was just hard to believe when he was being so compassionate.
“I really am okay now, and I really would like some time to think.”
He searched her gaze for a second, then nodded. “If you need anything, we’re just across the street.”
She walked him to the door, groaning with each step as her jeans abraded her sore behind.
“See you tomorrow night.”
She waved him off, then closed and bolted the door. Quickly rethinking her Fyn strategy, she took off the jeans and pulled on her underwear. They were only slightly less painful, but she’d suck it up until after he left.
