On Your Knees

by Brynn Paulin

  “On. Your. Knees.”

  Chapter Two

  Jessica looked up at him in surprise. Was he joking? Kneel? She’d said she’d give him control but kneel before him? She was reasonably sure she could walk, perhaps even run, now that the effects of the gel had dissipated. This was her opportunity to make a break for it.

  And miss one of the most intriguing experiences in her life.

  He didn’t say a word. His scowl darkening, he waited for her to make her decision. He seemed to know so much about her. He likely knew exactly what was going through her head right now. He was probably poised to pounce on her when she bolted.

  She wouldn’t. He made her feel safe in a way she never had before. What had he said? He wouldn’t betray her?

  He was right. She wanted this. She wanted him to have control.

  “Jessica?” he prompted, his voice dangerously soft.

  Her head bowed, she sank to her knees before him. Whatever happened, good or bad, her decision had already been made. She’d given over control. She had to follow through.

  He didn’t step away and her breasts pressed to his powerful thighs. She didn’t mind the view from here, she thought studying him through her lashes. Her eyes were level with his protruding, strained fly. He wanted her, possibly as badly as she wanted him. If that was true, when they finally came together, they’d crash against each other in desperation. It would be wild, out-of-control sex.

  She hoped he hurried.

  “Hands behind your back,” he instructed.

  She nodded although she wasn’t sure she could do as he ordered. Her arms burned and barely responded to her brain’s orders to move. Realizing her predicament, he crouched beside her and eased her hands into position, helping her twine her numb fingers together at the small of her back. His thumb stroked along her cheek.

  “You’ll be fine in a moment,” he assured her. “You were chained longer than I’d wanted.”

  Still he had wanted her chained, Jessica interpreted, filling in his unspoken words.

  Standing, he wedged his boot between her thighs and nudged them apart. “Never together,” he told her. Once she was situated, with arms behind her, knees apart, her ass resting on her heels, he gently tilted her head forward.

  She studied the toes of his black boots. They were a lot like the kind she pictured most bikers wearing. With his leather pants they looked incredibly hot. Oh God, who was she kidding? Everything about this situation seemed hot to her. At the moment he could be wearing a hotdog suit and she’d find him incredible. His very presence sank into her, drawing her and molding her reactions.

  An odd magic wove around them in this place. It pulled forward parts of her being that had never seen the light. She’d hidden so many of her feelings since childhood, locking them away in her own private dungeon. It seemed fitting that they’d surface here, yet strange that it had been a stranger identifying her deep-seated needs.

  This position spiked up her needs about one hundred twelve notches. Spread open, waiting. The cool air rising through the stone floor mingled with the heat pouring from her core. Frankly, she was surprised steam wasn’t billowing around her.

  Holy crap! She was really into this.

  “Remember this position,” he commanded. “When you are with me, when I tell you to go to your knees, this is what I want.”

  She nodded, completely compliant.

  How long would he make her wait before he took her?

  She might have to figure out how to make this more than a one-time deal. Much more. That might not be easy, though. She couldn’t imagine trusting anyone else with this power over her. If he hadn’t already proved worthy of her trust, she wouldn’t be kneeling here either.

  She watched her dungeon master again. No, she couldn’t trust anyone the way she was trusting him right now. Maybe it was the mask and the façade of anonymity. Who knew? He probably did. He seemed to know her and what she wanted better than she did.

  “You have been particularly disobedient and willful tonight.”

  “I—”

  “Silence,” he barked.

  Her eyes went wide but she held her tongue.

  “I have warned you many times, yet you continued to fight me.”

  She shook her head. If he hit her, she’d flip out. She’d heard about that stuff. Some aspects of BDSM intrigued her but the thought of being beaten into submission sure as hell didn’t. She trusted him, just not that much.

  In contrast, her body throbbed at the prospect of him exerting further dominance over her. Curiosity and yes, as Madam Zelda had predicted, there was the thought of exploring this new opportunity. That tiny card had predicted an awful lot. Right then, Jessica reevaluated her opinion of the psychic. That woman was a freaking genius. How could she have known this fantasy would come to fruition? The card.

  “Look at me.” Her Dom threaded his fingers through her bound hair and pulled her head back. “I will not have my slave disobeying me.”

  Whoa! Wait a second! Slave? Her breathing accelerated and she sank her teeth into her bottom lip.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying? You belong to me.” He enunciated each word clearly. “All of you. I’m claiming you. From here on, you will be mine. You will be my responsibility and offer me complete obedience. I’ll see to your needs and I’ll teach you. I’ll discipline you if need be. You will trust me in all things.”

  Give complete trust? For tonight, right? The dungeon master was deep into this. She almost believed he meant forever, not just tonight. She took a deep breath. She wasn’t so sure about this, even for one night.

  Her head turned marginally to the right. She stopped herself before she totally denied his claim. Her quivering body spoke of her acceptance. It was only her mind that couldn’t embrace his assertion.

  He made an amused sound in his throat. “No, I didn’t think you’d so easily agree. You will though. In time. You will learn.”

  “I don’t even know your name!” she blurted.

  His hand slashed through the air, dismissing her excuse. “Names aren’t important. You know what you need to know about me. For the moment, you will address me as Master. I will answer. Your trust and obedience aren’t dependant on my name.” His lips quirked. “You’re not big on obedience to someone else though, are you? Unless it feeds your power.”

  How did he know these things about her?

  He tipped her head up, making her look at him. “Now, my disobedient slave, it’s time for your next lesson.”

  She cautioned herself to stay calm. He’d promised not to hurt her and she was here for the adventure…whatever happened.

  “Your first lesson was to trust me. You must understand that I know your needs and I will care for them. Did I care for you?”

  She couldn’t deny it. She also couldn’t deny that the thought of him taking care of her filled her with unaccustomed well-being. She relaxed, confident that everything would be okay.

  She could trust him.

  “Yes, Master.”

  He pulled her to her feet and led her to the bench.

  Oh crap.

  “On your knees,” he said quietly. It was almost as if he didn’t want to say it but had to. His care heightened her growing faith in him. How far would it go? What would she do because of the feeling he invoked within her?

  She glanced at the bench. “Please…”

  He shook his head. “Now Jessica.”

  Trust, she reminded herself. You promised to give him control.

  She complied and he pushed her so that she leaned over the low, cushioned bench. Despite telling herself to remain calm, every muscle in her body tensed. Her chest pressed into the cushioned surface while her fingers clenched at the small of her back, her ass a little higher than her shoulders. She dropped her face onto the seat. Damn it. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to trust him. Yet she desired nothing more.

  He left for a moment. She looked up when he returned. He set three items on the seat b
eside her head. Her horrified intake of breath was heavy with her fear. Cuffs, a gag and a whip—at least that’s what she figured it was. Long, wide strips of knotted leather were bound together in a black handle. A cord wound around it, no doubt providing a better grip. Was this the flog he’d mentioned?

  Her cleft immediately flooded aroused by the forbidden desire. Treacherous body. She could have stupid fantasies all she wanted but she wasn’t sticking around here. She unclasped her hands and levered herself upward.

  Ryan anticipated her fear. Splaying his hand on the middle of her back, he held her still. He couldn’t let her run out now, just when they were making progress. If she left, she’d reinforce the walls she’d erected to sustain her control. He’d never be able to breach them.

  “Lesson one, trust. Lesson two, obedience and discipline. Return to your position.” He emphasized each word. Right now her head would be screaming that she was crazy yet her body would obey. He bit back a smile when she sank back on to the spanking bench and laced her fingers behind her back.

  She might not be trained or experienced in any way but she was particularly responsive to his voice inflections. The way she so easily fell into the submissive role and followed his commands pleased him more than any of his past subs ever had. Her anxious and sometimes apprehensive mien separated her from those before her. Their main objective had been the game. Sure, they’d been aroused but they hadn’t locked onto anything except how Ryan’s performance would enhance their pleasure.

  That wasn’t what Jessica was all about.

  He drew his finger over the crease of Jessica’s ass. She trembled with instant reaction. She was deeply aroused. This wasn’t the calculated arousal of the women before her. She’d been born to be his. Now that they were together, they’d become a mutually beneficial alliance. She was the other half of his coin. The s to his D. They were made to coexist and were incomplete without the other.

  She’d soon realize that as he introduced her to her new world.

  With practiced speed he fastened the cuffs around her wrists and stepped back to survey his work. The other items remained where he’d left them. His body instantly tightened and his throat grew dry. Jessica stretched over the bench, completely open to him. Even in the dim light, her cream gleamed on her bare folds. Long stretches of soft, pale skin begged for his mouth, his hands and his flog. If he knelt behind her and lifted her slightly, he could drive his cock straight to her core.

  He shifted his stance, trying to adjust the pressure behind his fly.

  “How do you feel right now?” he rasped. Did her position make her as hot as seeing her this way made him?

  “Sweet heavens, don’t make me talk,” she begged, her voice muffled against the seat.

  He knelt and leaned over her. His lips grazed her ear.

  “How do you feel, Jessica?” he repeated. His hands slipped beneath her to cup her breasts. They’d still ache from the gel Bobby had put on them since he hadn’t wiped the emollient off. She gasped as he pinched her nipples, tugging, rolling, then pinching harder. Later in bed, he’d lick those delicious points until she begged for release and then he’d lick some more. He’d be willing to bet he could make her come just by tormenting her breasts.

  “How do you feel?” He needed her talking so she didn’t drift off into sub-space. While they played this game there was always the chance she, like other subs, would move into an alternate state of mind called subspace because of her intense reactions. He needed her here, fully part of everything they did.

  “Helpless,” she admitted.

  “Do you?” he asked. “Why?”

  “Cuffed, kneeling and pressed between a bench and a wicked man?” A tremor rocked through her, rippling against his chest as he leaned to her. She shifted beneath him, her ass brushing his tormented cock.

  He promised himself that soon he’d be inside her. As soon as she was ready. That was a rule he’d grown up with. The Cress family shunned the use of a safe word. A good Dom was always in charge—of himself and his slave—and a good Dom recognized his sub’s state of mind, identifying acceptance or stress.

  Right now Jessica was in a mild state of acceptance. She needed to be further along before he took her. He took a deep breath. Damn, how her scent and that dripping cleft beckoned to him to sink to the balls in her sheath.

  “I think you’re still fighting to be in control.” Removing a hand from beneath her, he trailed a fingertip down her back. She arched into it. Good. She’d surrendered to her hedonistic side. Where the body went, the mind would follow.

  “No,” she denied. “You’re in control.”

  “Glad to know it.” He turned his wicked hand and slid it inside the crease of her ass. The cheeks squeezed together as he teased at the tight flesh. “Have you ever been taken here?”

  “No.”

  “Mmmm. It will be my complete pleasure then. How do you think it will feel to have my cock inside you here?” His fingertip worked inside her to the first knuckle. The snug passage was still well-lubed from the early ministrations.

  Her body clenched around his finger as she reacted to the thought. “You’re too big,” she argued.

  “You think? We’ll see.”

  “No.”

  Possibly she well-remembered the replica of his cock and how it had stretched her pussy. Forceful tremors shook her while his finger screwed in and out of her ass. As she relaxed, he added another. This time she rocked into the gentle thrusts.

  “Trust,” he admonished firmly.

  She sighed, spreading her knees a bit further and canting her hips. “Yes, Master.”

  God, she was beautiful.

  “You were telling me how you feel,” he reminded. “You said helpless, which I don’t believe, by the way. Go on.”

  It would take more than what he’d done to Jessica to make her helpless. She could eviscerate anyone with that sharp tongue of hers. Anyone but him. He saw through her guise. Whether she knew it or not, he was her perfect match and probably one of the only people she couldn’t cow into doing exactly what she wanted. Right now, she wasn’t afraid, not even close to it—and he didn’t want her fear. If she were scared, she wouldn’t be lying docilely beneath him enjoying this.

  How could she describe the delicious sensations filling her? Her ass had always been a taboo spot. She’d never let anyone touch her there, yet here was this stranger shoving his fingers in and out of her. And it felt so good.

  She couldn’t imagine anything more. Frankly, the thought of his cock plunging into this virgin territory petrified her.

  “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Unsure, I mean.”

  “You can be sure of me. I won’t fail you. Not tonight, tomorrow, or ever.”

  “This is just for tonight.”

  “Is it? We’ll need to address that. Right now, do you like what you feel?”

  His voice crawled along her spine, nestling in below her heart. While her mind puzzled over his claim, a million answers to his question roared to mind, all of them relating to how badly she wanted him inside her. Anywhere. Any way he wanted. She couldn’t say that.

  “Um…”

  “Be honest with me. You must always be completely honest. For both our sakes.”

  What was he? A freaking mind reader?

  “It’s weird. Um…good.” Wonderful. Great. If she got much more aroused, she’d have a puddle beneath her. Why hadn’t she done this before? Obviously, the right man had never come along for it.

  She wondered off-hand if Pleasure Palace had gift certificates and if she could get a standing appointment with this dungeon master. He said he’d never let her down. A thread of sadness cinched around her heart. What would he say if she told him that he’d already let her down by not having an emotional connection to her for more than this short time she was trapped in his dungeon?

  Damn, what was with this emotional neediness? She should know better. Her emotional needs weren’t ever met. Life had taught her that. Not by her parents,
who expected her to be their emotional support, or the men who wanted her to make all the decisions in relationships. She couldn’t remember a time when anyone had taken care of her for any reason beyond obligation. Those times had been grudging at best. She’d learned to take what she could get and accept that as intimacy.

  Looking at her friends and their families she knew it was a poor substitute. And she knew she didn’t know how to ask for or accept intimacy. She pushed them away. The dungeon master wasn’t waiting for her to ask for it. He wasn’t waiting for her to accept it. He certainly wasn’t letting her push him away.

  He added a third finger, spreading her and she yelped in surprise.

  “Easy,” he murmured. His thumb stretched down to rasp over her clit. Ever so slowly, he continued to stretch her while working in and out. His other hand petted her shivering body. “Just relax,” he instructed. “Stop tensing. Stop thinking. Just feel.”

  She tried to follow his direction but found it damned difficult with his continual flick over her sensitive nub. With her eyes closed, there was nothing beyond the feel of his hands on her, nothing to distract her from riding the waves of sensation.

  “Feels good,” she said through her teeth. She could barely stand it. Her need was too strong. A need purely for him. This was nothing like the lame love making of previous lovers. No wondered she’d stopped finding time for sex. If they were like this man, she’d find it hard to leave their bed.

  “You’re good to continue?”

  She nodded, without opening her eyes.

  He pumped his fingers deeper. Suddenly, she felt a strange drag of stiff fabric over her skin. Her lids popped open and dread settled over her. The flogger was gone and that hadn’t been fabric. It was leather. Oh fuck, maybe she wasn’t ready to move on.

  “Relax,” he said. “I told you punishment was coming.”

  “Don’t hit me.” She couldn’t keep the tremble from her voice.

  The whip pulled over her again, the ends splaying out across her back. “I don’t hit. The flog is completely different. Hitting only satisfies an abuser. The flog brings pleasure to both master and slave.”