by Vonna Harper
“You’d like to do that, wouldn’t you? Maybe take a nap while I—”
“I’m not interested in a nap.”
Chapter Three
Karmen felt boxed in, trapped inside her body. The position she’d gotten herself into was more than a little crazy, and her blouse might never be the same. She should demand he untangle her. Instead, she stood on unsteady legs listening to her heart race. Rico didn’t know she’d once been more helpless than she was now. The difference between the past and today was that back then she’d been terrified.
Hurting.
Today she felt no pain, just a little strain in her arms.
And unable to stop him from whatever he wanted to do to her.
Her heartbeat kicked up at the thought. Instead of trying to push her excitement down, she wrapped the sensation around herself. This was new, arousing.
“Your willingness to comply with my command impresses me.” He squeezed her fingers. “But trying to remove your blouse is only a first step, one that doesn’t tell me a lot about the you beneath the surface. After all, you knew you couldn’t finish the disrobing didn’t you?”
“Yes. Of course.”
He again squeezed her fingers. Then he released them and cupped his hand under her chin, lifting her head so she was staring at him. His dark-blue eyes glittered with energy. “I don’t want you playing games. I’m not going to allow it.”
Something clicked inside her, a closing of one door and the opening of another. He’d issued an order. She could either tell him to go to hell or let this thing play itself out.
“I don’t want you to cut me any slack.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t intend to. I’m going to release the clip on your cuffs so you can use your hands as I tell you to. That’s all, nothing else. Understand?”
I’m trying to. “Yes.”
“I hope so.”
As he triggered the clip, she tried to accept how quickly he’d assumed the masterful role. He was a business owner, but this was different from managing employees. More intimate.
When he was done, she slowly lowered her arms. The blouse slid down until the sleeves caught on the leather straps hugging her wrists.
“You’re not going to need your blouse anymore. Take it off.”
Shouldn’t he have qualified that he was talking about today? Pushing aside the weighty thought, she shook herself until the garment fell to the floor. Her bra covered as much as a two-piece bathing suit would so why did she feel so exposed?
“How much did you spend on your underwear?”
“What? I—more than I should have.”
“What else do you indulge in?”
“Only my underwear. I know how to be frugal.”
“Hmm. So teaching self-defense doesn’t put you in the upper tax bracket.”
Was he trying to put her in her place, make it clear he was the wealthy one? Who the hell cared?
Blue eyes still narrowed, he put distance between them. As he did she noticed the bulge in his expensive slacks. It was easy to tell when a man was aroused, more difficult for a man to know whether his attempt at seduction was working on a woman.
She wasn’t turned on yet—all right, only a little. Maybe more than a little.
“Get rid of the bra. I want to see what it’s hiding.”
From the moment he’d undone the first blouse button, she’d known they’d come to this point so why did she feel so unnerved?
“Go on. Don’t make me wait.”
He’d again folded his arms over his chest, the gesture drawing her attention to his buff shoulders and muscled upper arms. Someday maybe she’d be able to watch him lift weights.
Keeping her gaze locked on his was harder than reaching behind her and unfastening the bra. When it popped free, she reflexively flattened an arm over her breast to keep the bright yellow lace in place.
“Keep going.”
Something else shifted inside her, a setting down of the woman she’d been just this morning. The rose-scented air filled her lungs as she drew the garment off her. She moved slowly, not because she was still uncertain but because she wanted to study his reaction. Even before she revealed her breasts to him, his mouth tightened and his fingers curled inward. The room was comfortably warm yet her nipples hardened.
Saying nothing, he held out his hand, and she relinquished the bra. He ran his fingers over the lace edges, examined the hooks, tested the elasticity. All the time she stood before him, not knowing what to do with her arms and trying not to look at her breasts. She kept sucking in her belly, longed to press her legs together. Acknowledged how close she was to him.
He waved the garment at her. “This belongs to me. I might let you have it again but I might not. Once I’ve trained you and you’ve embraced your new life, it won’t occur to you to ask for clothes. That, like everything else, is my decision to make. You’ll unconditionally accept that I have reasons for what I order you to do. I rule our relationship and you trust me.”
I want that.
Shocked by both his comments and her reaction, she stopped short of nodding.
“You aren’t there yet.” He tossed the bra in the direction of the bed, but it fell short. To hell with it. “I don’t expect you to be at the finish line. The most important lessons take time. How does exposing your breasts make you feel?”
“Less me,” she admitted. “Less in control.”
“And you like that. It feels what, freeing?”
Unnerved by the realization of how much she’d just revealed, she sought to back away from her emotions by fingering her left bracelet. “I wouldn’t call this freeing.”
“You’re wrong.” He shook his head. “Restraints stand as proof of how much you’ve turned over to a man you trust.”
Still stroking the leather band, she mulled over what he’d said. Today she didn’t have to concern herself with scheduling a class, preparing a talk, or even going to the grocery store. He’d tell her what to do with her body, how to think even.
“You need more examples.” He snapped his fingers. “Come here.”
Her legs were becoming weaker by the moment, and her lungs burned. Hands folded over her middle, she once more entered his space.
“When I first saw you,” he said, “I thought of you as a child/woman. Small with a hairstyle that says you can’t be bothered with grooming, with the intention of attracting a man’s attention. But I was wrong. You’re a woman in all the ways that matter.”
His attention was locked on her breasts. Heat rushed through her, prompting her to cup her breasts. His cock strained against his slacks and her nipples were so hard they ached.
“Lovely.” He blinked slowly. “I appreciate your attempt to draw one of your feminine attributes to my attention, but you’ve already forgotten what I told you.”
Hard as she tried to recall his earlier words, her thoughts remained tangled.
“What did I say about your bra?”
Don’t make this hard on me! Don’t stand there like some warrior appraising his captive. “I, ah, oh, that it’s yours now.”
“That’s part of it.” As he filled his lungs, his folded arms rose and fell, imprinting her with his size and stature. “I’m in charge of our relationship—and in charge of you. Did I give you permission to touch yourself?”
Even as she fought the need to tell him he was throwing too much at her all at once, she released her breasts. They sagged a little, still felt swollen. Her cheeks were flushed, and she didn’t know what to do with her hands.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“You’re learning. I need to remember to factor in that you’re in the beginning stages of your education.” He rested a heavy hand on her left shoulder, laid down a new layer of awareness. “I’m impatient to have our relationship fully defined.”
She knew what she was supposed to do, to stand here with the weight of his hand reaching all the way to her core and her body feeling loose and undefined.
; “I’m going to make things easier for you. From now until I decide it’s time to change, I’m assuming all responsibility for your body. That way you can concentrate on the lessons, specifically your reaction to them.”
All responsibility for her body? Did one person ever truly want to do that to someone else?
He cupped his hand around her shoulder and randomly pressed his fingers against her flesh. The erotic massage spoke to the heat dancing in her belly, caused her to lick her lips and nod.
“The old you is struggling with the woman you want to become. Watching the battle fascinates me.”
“A battle?” Speaking made her lips hum.
“For lack of a better term. As I go through much the same transformation, I’m finding the process much more fascinating than I thought I would. I’m ready for this journey. You’re going to take it with me.”
She wished she could be as honest as he was. Maybe the difference was that his role was expanding and as a consequence making him stronger while she was becoming less than she’d always believed herself to be.
Less? Maybe not that, so much as different. New.
“Let’s do this,” she muttered.
Just before he spun her away from him, she noted a change in his expression but couldn’t put a name to it. Then his hands traveled from her shoulders to her forearms and only the contact mattered.
“Freedom means different things to different people at different stages of their lives,” he said from behind her. He drew her arms back and up, forcing her to lean over. Blood rushed to her forehead. “It would be easy to say that this lack of freedom is a simple concept, but that would be a lie. Take me into you. What are you feeling?”
“Constrained,” she admitted. Maybe she should try to pull free but what was the point? There was no way she’d succeed.
“Not deep enough.” He shook her arms as if angry. “Take me into your thoughts.”
Take me into yours. The room went out of focus as her awareness of her body grew. It was no longer hers to direct but had become part of him. Nevertheless these were her veins, muscles, and bones.
“I’m extremely aware of you and how easily you’ve restrained me. I, ah, it seems strange to be carrying on a conversation while this is happening.”
“Better. Not all the way through your layers, but I shouldn’t expect that so soon.” He crossed one wrist over the other and lifted her arms even higher until she was deeply bent with her breasts dangling. “I want you to focus fully on your body now. What is it experiencing?”
“Helplessness.” Hearing the word coming from her should have placed her in fight or flight mode. Instead she let the admission circle her. Acknowledged it. “I can’t see you. Hell, I can barely see anything except the floor.”
“Wrong.”
Before she could react to what might be his anger, he hauled her upright. He kept her wrists crossed and near her waist, his fingers binding them together. She tried to look back at him only to be stopped by her deeply bent elbows.
“You’re still evading. Not opening up.”
“I don’t know what you want.”
“Yeah you do. I’m thinking the problem is you aren’t as tuned in to your body as it’s possible to be. If that’s the case, that’s my fault. I need to take you deeper.”
Deeper how? Where?
“Think about the word dominance,” he said as linked her wrists together again. “Control.” He looped his arm around her collarbone and pulled her back toward him. Off balance, she had no choice but to let his body support her. “We could debate and discuss the two words, but I prefer a demonstration. That’s what I’m doing now is all about, demonstrating.”
No longer having to stare at the floor made little difference. The walls, bed and table didn’t provide a distraction and even if they did, she wasn’t sure she wanted it.
“I’m closing in around you.” His other arm slipped around her waist, tightened. “Taking over your space and body. You’re still a separate human being and yet your edges have been compromised. You’re a little afraid of me but that isn’t all you’re feeling, is it?”
He’d sealed her against him with his erection prodding her backside and his breath pushing through her hair. “No.”
“That’s right, the answer is no. Let’s talk about the blending of our bodies that’s taking place.”
He’d nailed it all right. Maybe they weren’t having sex but their systems were no longer separate. Maybe more to the point, he was in charge of when hers would be returned to her.
“I don’t like being pint-size,” she admitted. “I’ve always wished I was taller or had bigger bones or something. Barely topping a hundred pounds puts me at a disadvantage. And yet right now that isn’t bothering me. I like— It isn’t easy talking about this.”
“Because you’re a private person. We all are to one extent or another. Unfortunately sometimes the compulsion to build walls around ourselves prevents us from fully embracing life.”
Struck by his wisdom, she nodded.
“That’s part of why you signed up with Unchained. Deep down, you need to open up.”
“I feel pretty open right now. Damn exposed.”
Leaving her to struggle to regain her balance, he let go of her and stepped to the side. She spun on her practical sandals to find him with his arms again folded across his chest.
He studied her, his gaze raking from her face to her skirt’s waistband with a long pause at her breasts. Her nipples had softened a little but they beaded back into hard nubs. Her breasts felt as if they’d gained several pounds apiece.
“Yes.” He drew out the word. “You are exposed and that other word we’ve been dancing around, vulnerable. I’m not talking about your physical safety because I’d never cross that line. I wouldn’t be here if there’d been any question about that.”
What are you going to do next? Where is this conversation taking us? “I know.”
“There won’t be sex unless we both agree to it.”
Her pussy stirred again or maybe the truth was she could no longer ignore the hot pounding there.
“I know that. It’s an important part of the contract.”
“Sometimes—” He chuckled. “I’m not a caveman but I’d be lying if I said I’ve never entertained the fantasy of grabbing a woman, throwing her over my shoulder, and carrying her back to my cave for whatever it is cavemen do.”
Not any woman, me. “Is your cave heated?”
“Do you want it to be?”
The lighthearted banter relaxed her a little. Even when he lowered his arms letting her see his large, strong chest she felt no compulsion to put more distance between them.
“Of course. And air-conditioning in summer. I assume the bear pelts you’ve lined the cave floor with don’t stink.”
“If you don’t like the smell you can take them to the river and wash them—when I let you out.”
His voice had shifted from teasing to seductive in mid-sentence, a change she felt throughout her. She didn’t want to talk anymore, wanted him to touch her again, to climb inside the word “submissive” and discover whether it fit her after all.
Impatient with the waiting, she tested her bonds. He’d secured her well and permanently if he so desired.
His.
“I’m going to mark you,” he said. “Leave my imprint on you and educate myself about you.”
Struck anew with his ability to create images with simple words, she brought her legs together thinking to prepare herself for his onslaught, whatever form it might take. Warm moisture on her panties’ crotch greeted her. Her breasts still felt leaden while the rest of her had become weightless. She reveled in her helplessness.
His expression remained impassive as he grasped her upper arm and brought her close.
“Stand there. No matter what I do, I expect you to remain where you are.”
Oh god. “I’ll try.”
“Not try, you will do. This is my cave. There’s no escape for you, noth
ing you can do except wait and see what your master intends to do.”
Master. The word triggered something deep in her. Instead of giving herself time to judge the wisdom of what she was doing, she lowered her head and looked up at him through her lashes. “I’m waiting, Master.”
He blinked. “Maybe I can believe you, maybe not. There’s one way to find out.”
He touched her breasts, the contact no stronger than a bird’s wing. Nevertheless, she started.
“These are mine.” He brushed her nipples with a knuckle. “They might be on your body but they exist for my pleasure.” The second time the contact lasted longer and went deeper, leaving her nipples feeling bruised. “They’re also what makes controlling you so easy. Stand straight and arch your back. I want to see what you’re offering to your master.”
His words lashed her senses, compelling her to immediately obey. She’d gone to considerable lengths to underplay her C-cup breasts at work, but the truth was she was pleased with what nature had accomplished. They proclaimed her a woman with a capital W. Maybe that was presumptuous of her, but it was what it was.
“They’re yours. Nothing artificial about them.”
“No, not artificial.”
“As it should be. When I want, they’re my playground. I might care how you respond to this.” He closed finger and thumb over her right nipple and lifted her breast. “I might not. Sometimes I’ll play with them to see how you respond.” Still using his handhold, he moved her breast in a circle. The drawing against her chest stole her breath. “Other times I won’t give a damn about anything except what I get out of a session.”
Much as she hoped he’d give her left breast the same attention, she couldn’t silence a gasp when he captured it.
“Your body is mine. I’ll do what I want with it, and you’ll thank me. Even when I cause you discomfort—and sometimes I will—you’ll express your gratitude in such a way that I’ll have no doubt of your sincerity.”
He couldn’t have held her more firmly if he’d wrapped her body in rope. Not only didn’t she dare try to pull free, she didn’t want to.
“Let’s work on that.” He drew her breasts together. “Thank me. Tell me what you’re feeling.”
