by Erika Wilde
“Ever heard of orgasm denial?” he asked her casually as he walked to a cabinet and retrieved a few items from their brand-new packaging, then set them on a table next to the A-frame where she was anchored.
“No, but it sounds pretty self-explanatory.” And not something she really wanted to endure when she was all about enjoying a great orgasm. Or two. Or three. “And unnecessarily torturous,” she said, only half joking.
He laughed softly. “Look at you,” he said as he caressed a finger along her jawline, then followed the top of the rhinestone choker circling her throat. “Fucking gorgeous and smart, too. I did warn you that we’d be playing by my rules tonight, and you agreed. Unless you want to end things and save yourself the frustration of what’s about to happen during this scene?”
She pursed her lips together, refusing to give in because, in truth, she wanted this experience with him. “I’m not using my safe word.”
“Didn’t think so.” He sounded impressed with her fortitude. “Then consider orgasm denial your punishment for tempting me beyond reason with that fuck-me dress and for not wearing any panties, and for trying to get the upper hand a few minutes ago.”
“What, no spanking?” she quipped.
The corner of his mouth twitched imperceptibly. “No.”
“Why not?” God, was she actually disappointed that she wasn’t going to feel his hand on her ass?
“Because a spanking is way too easy and exactly what you expect and want,” he replied, much too accurately. “And this isn’t about what you want. It’s about learning a lesson. That I’m the one calling the shots and you’re at my mercy, hence denying you the one thing you’re going to beg for. Probably repeatedly, but I’ll let you come when I’m good and ready, and not a second sooner.”
She watched him pick up what looked like a pair of two-inch tweezers. Each side of the opening was cushioned in a soft rubber, while little stainless steel balls hung from the opposite end.
“Have you ever worn nipple clamps?” he asked as he flicked his finger against the tip of one of her breasts, causing it to tighten into a firm bead.
“No.” She’d seen them before in Raina’s store and had been curious about what they’d feel like, but her body was suddenly conflicted about the pain involved.
“It’s definitely going to hurt,” he cautioned, upping her anxiety as he positioned the opening against her areola, then slowly moved a metal slider that gradually fastened the clamps tight against her rigid nipple. The weights swaying from the opposite end added a tugging sensation she could feel all the way down to her clit.
She moaned at the unrelenting pinch, at the push-pull of stimulation, and by the time he’d attached the second one, she couldn’t think straight through the biting pain.
“Mac . . . ” Her voice quivered with uncertainty.
“You’re already defying my orders,” he said, ignoring her apprehension. “What did I tell you to call me?”
It took effort for her to search her brain to remember. “Brent.”
“Exactly,” he said, his expression strict. “And do not warn me with the tone of your voice that you’re uncomfortable, because I cannot read your mind. If what I’m doing at any point is too much, you say red.”
She nodded her head jerkily. “I’m good,” she assured him, because despite the persistent throb of her nipples, she wanted to please him.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice warm at her acquiescence. “Just breathe, slow and easy, and that pain will morph into pleasure . . . at some point.” His eyes danced with a glimmer of sinful amusement.
A tight noise, like a huff of laughter, escaped her throat. “When?”
“Soon.” His fingers touched her belly and slowly trailed downward, stopping short of her mound. “Would you like me to distract you from that pinching pain?”
“Yes, please.” Oh, yeah, she wasn’t far from begging at all.
He dipped his head below her breasts, and his hot, damp lips touched her stomach next, then moved a little lower, making her squirm in anticipation. “I’m going to go down on this sweet pussy, just like you wanted,” he promised huskily as he knelt in front of her spread legs and trailed those scorching kisses down one trembling thigh and up the other, with his hands following the same path. His thumbs spread her lips apart to expose every intimate part of her to his lustful gaze—which he lifted back up to hers.
“I’m going to fuck you with my mouth, my tongue, and my fingers . . . and I’m pretty sure it’s going to make you want to come . . .” A devious smile curved his lips. “But your punishment is orgasm denial, so what’s the rule, sweetness?”
She was already unbearably aroused from the nipple clamps that had started transitioning into that pleasure he’d promised, and couldn’t imagine how she was going to keep from climaxing from all the stimulation. But again, she wanted to show him she could obey his order. “I don’t get to come until you say I can.”
His fingers were already sliding through her folds and pressing into her core. “Don’t forget that, or I will spank your ass until it’s burning hot and you won’t be able to sit down tomorrow without remembering what a bad girl you were.”
She swallowed hard, and while she tried to brace herself for his mouth on her pussy and what would undoubtedly be a ruthless test of her fortitude, she wasn’t prepared for his slow, thorough, sinful seduction. He started with a long, leisurely lick, his tongue soft and teasing as it flicked a few times against her clit before he deepened the intimate kiss. He applied suction and fucked her with his fingers, again and again, and because she’d been deprived of a man’s mouth for much too long, and Mac knew exactly how to make a woman come apart, she unexpectedly found herself on the verge of an orgasm.
Her legs shook and a panicked moan escaped her as she frantically tried to block the release that was looming large and barreling through her. She instinctively jerked at her hands to use them to push his mouth away, but the restraints didn’t give an inch. She wanted to scream no!, but he’d made it clear that word wasn’t an option to use, and she refused to safe word out.
She didn’t want to disappoint him. Even as the thought entered her mind, she had to tense against the approaching onslaught. Her head rolled back against the frame behind her and she started to pant. “Oh, God, Brent . . . I can’t . . . ”
He eased up just enough to make the orgasm recede, then abruptly stood up in front of her. “Don’t you dare fucking come,” he ordered, his voice harsh and commanding.
Relief that he’d stopped touching her clashed with frustration that he’d denied her body the release it desperately needed. “I’m trying not to.”
“You’re going to have to try much harder in a second,” he said as he removed the clamps from her nipples.
She gasped as a rush of blood suffused the engorged tips of her breasts, bringing with it a tingling heat that provided its own kind of pleasurable pain. She felt dizzy from the multitude of sensations overwhelming her, and when he picked up the Magic Wand vibrator from the table and flipped the switch so that the buzzing sound mocked her momentary reprieve, she finally understood what he meant when he said she was going to have to try much harder not to come.
Even before the large, round, vibrating head grazed the tip of one of her nipples, she was moaning, then flinched and yelped in shock when it actually did abrade that tender button of flesh. He stepped in closer, sifting his free hand through her long hair and winding it around his fist until he was able to tip her head back so she had no choice but to look at his gorgeous face. His features were tightly drawn from his own restraint as he watched her expression, his jaw clenched hard as he dragged that pulsating wand down her stomach, then buried the toy in her pussy, centering it right on her clit.
She cried out at the direct hit, her hips bucking against the buzzing toy, but there was nowhere she could go and no way to escape the ruthless vibrations. She bit her bottom lip so hard she was certain she’d draw blood and closed her eyes against the stagg
ering need twisting through her, elevating her desire higher and higher. She wasn’t sure how long she was going to last . . .
“Look at me,” he demanded, the authority in his voice forcing her to somehow, someway, lift her lashes so that she was staring into his dark, glittering eyes.
“Brent . . . ” His name rasped out of her as a plea to end the torment, to allow her to fall over the edge into the bliss that awaited her.
“You are so fucking perfect like this,” he breathed in awe, his praise and approval stroking over her senses like a warm caress. “Are you ready to come for me, sweetness?”
“Yes, please.” Her voice broke as she pushed out the words that would finally give her what she needed.
She heard a distinct click, click, as he amped up the settings on the vibrator a few notches, and her body immediately began to shake as the most intense orgasm of her life rolled through her, making her feel higher than a kite. Adrenaline filled her veins, and her vision blurred as she succumbed to wave after wave of pure ecstasy that seemed unending. Her soft cries and moans sounded distant to her own ears as she chanted his name over and over, and as the climax eventually ebbed, she felt drunk on euphoria and detached from reality, even though she’d only had one glass of champagne.
Her entire body sagged in physical exhaustion, while mentally she struggled to push past the intoxicating haze clouding her mind, but the delightful languor won instead. She vaguely heard Mac’s deep voice, but couldn’t make out what he was saying, and she was barely aware of him releasing the restraints on her ankles, then her wrists.
And then she was falling . . . and he was there to catch her.
Chapter Five
A half an hour later, Mac sat on the couch in the living area that adjoined the room they’d just played in, with Stephanie wrapped in a light blanket and curled up on his lap, and his arms around her to make sure she felt safe and secure. Her cheek rested on his bare chest, the deep and even breaths feathering across his skin telling him that she’d succumbed to the fatigue that sometimes happened when the initial rush of endorphins subsided after subspace. He wanted to make sure that she landed gently after her experience, instead of crashing from the intense high.
With one of his hands beneath the blanket and on her thigh, he gently stroked his palm up and down her leg in a soothing gesture. He’d hit the Pandora app on his phone when he’d first come out of the playroom with her, and soft music played from the speakers. On the table beside the couch, he had a chilled bottle of water and a few pieces of chocolate waiting for her when she finally came to.
He couldn’t help the satisfied smile that formed on his lips as he looked down at her beautiful face and serene expression. When he’d brought Stephanie up here earlier, it had been with the intention of pushing her until she used her safe word, just to show her what kind of man she was dealing with. One who was depraved enough, according to his ex-wife, to get off on seeing just how far he could test her level of discomfort before she broke.
But goddamn, she’d been surprisingly obedient under his control once he had her restrained, when he’d expected the opposite behavior. She’d looked magnificent bound to the St. Andrew’s Cross, and so fucking perfect in the way she’d trusted him with her body . . . to the point that she’d managed to achieve that ultimate pleasure because of her absolute surrender to him.
For a woman who was so stubborn, independent, and confident, her uninhibited capitulation had shocked him, and made him harder than fucking granite. He’d never expected her total and complete submission, or her ability to reach subspace. And he certainly never anticipated the emotional bond he’d feel with her as he watched her drop all barriers in her quest to please him.
He told himself that connection had been a result of her inexperience and the fact that he’d been the first one to give her such a unique experience, and it couldn’t be anything more for a multitude of reasons. As far as he was concerned, this was a one-time deal. She wasn’t a woman who lived this lifestyle. She’d been curious, and he’d hopefully sated her fascination with the club, and him.
But he couldn’t deny the slight shift in his feelings toward her. There was a level of fondness and caring that hadn’t been there before, because of what they’d shared in the playroom. Despite the fact that he hadn’t reached his own release, that abrupt demeanor he’d normally used as a buffer with her had unequivocally softened.
Maybe they could be friends—the kind that were relaxed and comfortable around one another—like he was with the other subs he played with at the club. A soft, derisive laugh escaped him at that logic, because friendship was the very last thing he craved with this woman after watching her come apart for him a short while ago. No, what he wanted was to tie her up again and fuck her until she was delirious with lust and devoted to only him.
“Jesus,” he muttered to himself at the idiotic thought of getting involved with Stephanie beyond tonight, and the business deal they already had in place. He had rules for a reason when it came to women, and he wasn’t about to start altering them for a female who’d only gotten a small glimpse of who he really was in the bedroom.
She stirred against him like a sleepy, content kitten, and with a soft sigh, she rubbed her cheek against his chest, which didn’t help the stiff ache of his cock nestled against her blanket-covered ass. In gradual degrees, he watched her wake up, enjoying the process in a way he never had before. The subtle stretch of her arms, the tiny moan rising up from her throat, the flutter of her lashes, and finally, her head gradually falling back so that she was looking up at him with those gorgeous blue eyes. They were still a little unfocused and hazy, and her complexion glowed from the blissful orgasm she’d enjoyed earlier.
“Hi,” she said, her voice as soft and shy as the smile curving her lips.
“Hi, yourself, Sleeping Beauty,” he replied as he lightly skimmed his fingers along the underside of her knee. “Nice to have you back. How do you feel?”
“Okay . . . I think.” The smile faded as a confused frown marred her brow. “What happened?” she asked, clearly trying to recall details. “The last thing I remember is coming and feeling like I was flying on a natural high, then my mind went blank. Did I pass out?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, you could say that. Because of all the sensations you were dealing with all at once, your body went into subspace, which affects your nervous system. Adrenaline kicks in along with other feel-good chemicals and endorphins, and it can sometimes cause a person to crash afterward.”
“Which I obviously did,” she mused humorously. “I’m not going to lie, it all felt pretty fucking awesome . . . Brent.”
He tried very hard to ignore the way his stomach dipped at the husky sound of her speaking his given name again. A name he rarely used anymore, except on official documents. The moniker “Mac” had been established in the military because of his last name, and since “Brent” reminded him too much of the pretentious family that had turned their backs on him after his divorce and his decision to join the Navy, he’d kept the shortened version in civilian life.
Her hand found its way out of the blanket and she gently touched her fingers to the stubble on his jaw. “How did I not know that was your real name?” she murmured.
He shrugged as he continued to absently rub her thigh. “Not many people do.”
Those big blue eyes stared up at him curiously. “Except the women you play with?”
She thought he made all his subs call him Brent . . . but she’d been the first. All because he’d wanted to know what it would sound like to hear this woman use his given name while in the throes of passion. And fuck, he belatedly realized what a stupid request it had been, because now he didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget how intimate it had been to watch her come for him while his name repeatedly fell from her lips. She’d been perfection, in every way.
Instead of answering her question that would reveal way too much, he reached for the uncapped water and placed it in her hand. “Take a goo
d, long drink,” he encouraged her. “You need to make sure you stay hydrated.”
When she’d swallowed a third of the liquid, he put the bottle back on the side table and picked up a square of dark chocolate. “And eat this,” he instructed, and she automatically parted her lips so he could slide the candy into her mouth. “The oxytocin in the dark chocolate helps with the chemicals in your brain to keep you stabilized and relaxed after your drop.”
“Mmm.” Her eyes sparkled as she savored the treat. “An out-of-this-world orgasm and being fed chocolate afterward by a super-hot and sexy guy. A girl could get used to this kind of treatment, Mr. MacMillan.”
He wanted to tell her not to get used to it, because it wasn’t going to happen again, but decided to let her enjoy the moment instead.
She ate another piece of the chocolate and released a little sigh as she glanced around the living room area. “So, what does your family think about you owning a sex club?”
Her unexpected question surprised him, but he answered honestly. “They have no idea I bought The Players Club.”
One of her hands curled around the side of his neck, while her thumb stroked along his jawline and amusement danced in her eyes. “Are you living a secret double life?” she asked in a hushed voice.
His laugh was short and abrupt. “No. Nothing so exciting as that. My family and I are estranged, and have been for years, so they have no idea what my life is like or what I do.”
“Oh.” Her expression reflected her empathy. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” And it truly was after all these years.
He could see Stephanie thinking over the situation, and when his gut told him that she was probably going to ask him what happened with his family, he decided to quickly change the subject, because it was all too closely tied to the situation with his ex-wife, and that wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with her.
