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On His Terms

Page 15

by Sierra Cartwright


  This time, he wasn’t being stealthy.

  She heard his footfall on the steps, then outside the door. For a moment she forgot to breathe. But he continued down the hallway. She almost relaxed, but then realised it didn’t mean he wouldn’t be back right away. Doing what her Dom wanted when she didn’t want to or when she didn’t see the point was her greatest challenge.

  He kept her waiting for a few minutes before joining her.

  “Perfect,” he said.

  Her heart raced. His approval made the wait worthwhile.

  “You know I’m going to fuck your ass tonight, sub.”

  Her breath threatened to strangle her. She couldn’t have spoken now if he paid her.

  “We’ll start with a small plug.”

  She heard the sound of his shoes. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw him place a few items on the nightstand.

  He rubbed her bare buttocks. “No marks that won’t fade by tomorrow,” he told her.

  Before she was ready, he placed the tip of the small plug against her. The silicone felt cold and wet. “Open up,” he said, then he pushed it in.

  She barely felt its insertion, and it took no time to accommodate to the feel.

  “You’re getting better at that,” he told her. “Now a larger size.”

  She still found it a bit humiliating for him to remove a plug, but she knew protesting wouldn’t change anything. In fact, he’d probably think up a diabolical way to teach her not to say anything in future.

  He worked the bigger one in a little at a time, easing it in and pulling it out, then going deeper with each thrust.

  She groaned when the biggest part stretched her anal ring.

  “Keep your asshole exposed for me,” he said. “Now you’re going to take one that’s larger than either of those.”

  “Sir…” She was tempted to move her hands.

  “Your choice, sub. I can prepare you with another plug, or I can fuck you now.”

  Chelsea knew she should have kept her mouth shut. “Another one is fine, Sir.” He eased the current one from her, and she exhaled a huge sigh of relief. The respite was short lived. Almost instantly she felt something larger demanding entrance. “Damn, Sir!”

  “Relax your muscles,” he coached.

  She curled her toes against the unyielding floor. “I can’t do this!”

  He slapped her ass hard.

  The distraction allowed him to sink the nasty thing in farther. “This one feels different,” she said after she expelled her breath. And she hated it. It felt bruising and punishing.

  “It’s made from tempered glass,” he said. “Unbreakable. It’s considerably less forgiving than the others we’ve used until now.”

  She shuddered. Having his cock up there would feel better than this, she was sure.

  He reached beneath her to play with her clit. Always this man knew how to touch her. As need built in her, he moved the glass piece around, working it in, easing it out, then pushing forward again.

  She whimpered as he continued the assault on her rear. She’d never dealt with anything this horrible before.

  Despite all her good intentions, she moved her hands and tried to stand. He forced her back down and he twisted the glass so that it slid in.

  She panted, drenched with sweat, tears swimming in her eyes. Pain swamped her.

  “Good girl.”

  “Fuck you,” she said under her breath.

  “Did you say something, sub?”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  He flipped her over so that she was on her back looking up at him.

  “I think you were being disrespectful, girl.”

  She shook her head, but then she looked away and closed her eyes.

  “Chelsea?”

  Digging for courage, she faced him again. “You’re right, Sir. I was. I’m sorry. It hurts so much, and your words struck me as condescending.” She bit her lower lip, afraid of his reaction. Even in a vanilla relationship, speaking to a partner in that way was disrespectful and unacceptable. “I was out of line. I accept whatever punishment you deem necessary.”

  He loomed over her, fully dressed, arms folded implacably. “Do you or do you not have a safe word?”

  She wanted to look away. “Yes, I do, Sir.”

  “Do you remember what it is?”

  “Parsley, Sir.”

  “And do you or do you not have a way to request a pause if you can’t deal with something?”

  With a bravery that she wasn’t feeling, she continued to meet his gaze. “Yes, Sir.”

  “A good sub communicates with her Master.”

  That wasn’t what he was to her. Was it? He was a fill-in Dom. Nothing more? So why did she feel so terrible? Earlier she’d told him she hated the idea of disappointing him. He had no idea how true that was.

  “Talking, expressing your feelings…that’s the only way for the relationship to get deeper and richer. It develops trust. Otherwise you have something meaningless. Is that what you want?”

  “No it’s not, Sir.” She wished he’d spank her, light up her rear, chastise her, and get it over with. Anything other than this overwhelming sensation of shame.

  “I’m going to punish you,” he said.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Get on all fours and fuck yourself with the plug.”

  She opened her mouth in shock.

  “You heard me. Much harder to take than a beating, isn’t it?”

  “Sir… I mean…”

  “Do it, girl.”

  “Can we negotiate this?”

  “Absolutely not. Safe word and go home or do this now.”

  The world seemed to shift beneath her. This might be the most dreadful thing he’d ever requested of her.

  “Talk to me, girl.”

  His use of the word was obviously intentional to reinforce their roles. “I will do what you said, but I’m embarrassed as hell. I don’t want to do it. I’d rather you whip me.”

  “That’s why I’ve chosen this. I’ve learnt a thing or two about subs during this process, and being a brat with me will only earn you time to think about your behaviour. I like flogging and belting you, but you like it, as well. Keeping that in the erotic realm is what works best with you.”

  She resisted the urge to cover up. She’d never felt so exposed. He didn’t just see her physically, he excavated her deepest emotions.

  “Anything further?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Then pull the plug out and reinsert it twenty times. If it needs more lube at any point, just let me know.”

  He continued to stand above her as she got onto all fours. She closed her eyes as she reached back and grasped the slippery glass hilt. In order to extract it, she had to curl her entire hand around the base and bear down.

  She silently counted, and wished she were anyplace but here.

  “Faster,” he instructed.

  It took all her willpower not to say something else that would get her in trouble. She’d thought she was becoming a better sub. This showed her how much further she had to go.

  When she was about a dozen strokes in, he said, “Stop and give me the plug.”

  Quicksand. She’d give all her savings to have quicksand swallow her whole.

  She watched as he squirted more of the thick lubricant on the plug. Then he gave it back to her.

  “You may continue.”

  Wordlessly she did so, getting through the rest as quickly as possible. It became less and less difficult to put it in and pull it out, but it was every bit as uncomfortable. When she finished, she looked up at him.

  “Another five,” he said.

  “Ah…” She stared at him in shock.

  He raised his eyebrows and silently regarded her.

  “Yes, Sir.” Blast him. He did understand how to reinforce a message.

  She took hold of the hated thing and went through the motions again. Her body was becoming fatigued from the awkward position, and her rear was starting to burn.r />
  “That will suffice,” he said.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “You could have avoided those last five by remembering your manners after the first twenty.”

  Would she ever learn?

  “Leave the plug in.”

  She could barely breathe with the way it filled her.

  “Undress me,” he said.

  Chelsea was starting to regret having requested extra time with him. What the hell had she been thinking?

  Moving with the plug in was difficult. Having him up there couldn’t possibly be any worse than this. She untied his shoes, and he dutifully lifted each foot in turn so she could remove them. She stuffed his socks inside each. Then she undid his belt and lowered his zipper. His already-hardening cock protruded through his boxers. Watching her with the plug was clearly a turn-on for him. At least that was something.

  She quickly removed his pants then she awkwardly stood—trying not to shift the plug—to unbutton his shirt. He would have thrown it aside, she knew. She laid it on the bed.

  “Condom is on the nightstand.”

  He could have easily reached it.

  “Crawl,” he said.

  She was ready to gnaw off the tip of her tongue.

  “Now put it on me.”

  After she did, he added, “I recommend you lube up my dick.”

  Even his tone was different from earlier today. Being so disrespectful had changed something between them, and she would do anything to take it back. He was colder with her, harsher, clipping out orders. She’d told him how much she despised that. She could do anything as long as she felt connected to him. “Sir, I really am sorry,” she whispered, looking up at him.

  He remained implacable. His lack of response made her insides a ball of knots. Knowing she couldn’t take back the last ten minutes, she pumped some lube onto him and smeared it around with her hand.

  “Remove your plug and place it on the nightstand.”

  Imagining she was on a beach in the Bahamas drinking rum, she did as he said. Pretending to be elsewhere was the only way to survive some of these humiliations.

  “Bend over the bed.”

  Fear made it feel as if the room temperature dropped several degrees.

  “Your ass is stretched so wide,” he said when she’d displayed herself, parting her ass cheeks without being told. “You look so fuckable, girl. I’m going to do you hard.”

  She felt his cockhead seeking entrance, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever endured anything worse than this.

  He took hold of her left shoulder and drove himself a little deeper, and slid his other arm beneath her midriff.

  “Push out,” he told her.

  It hurt, but she didn’t object. She wanted his flesh, rather than the cold and impersonal piece of moulded glass. She craved his possession. “Yes,” she said.

  He continued to ease in and pull back. Within seconds, she discovered having him inside her wasn’t as bad as she imagined. It was different. A plug snuggled in, but a cock kept her spread.

  “Sexy sub,” he murmured.

  The sound of his pleasure made her heart skip. “More, Sir.”

  “Are you sure you’re ready?”

  “I want your cock, Sir. Take me.”

  He held her more tightly and jerked his hips, burying himself up to his balls in her ass.

  She released her hands when his thrusting forced her deeper into the mattress. She sobbed, and the sound was muffled by the bedcovers.

  “Chelsea?”

  “Oh my God! This is so good.” Her reaction surprised her. She’d never felt more complete. His rigidity in her most private part filled her, awed her. Sensually, she was drowning. “I want to come, Sir.”

  “Do,” he told her.

  He lifted her upper body slightly off the mattress. That changed his angle slightly, and he penetrated even deeper. She couldn’t breathe. It was as if electricity singed her skin. She rose onto her toes and arched her back. “Sir!”

  “Come,” he urged.

  Her body trembled as the orgasm swamped her. “Never… I never experienced anything like that,” she managed, her chest heaving.

  “Damn, girl. I may never let you go.”

  “Don’t.” She didn’t know whether she was asking him to keep her or whether she was begging him not to say that. All she knew was that nothing, other than this moment, existed for her.

  He continued to fuck her hard, and a second orgasm teased her as he surged, cock thickening right before he ejaculated.

  Obviously still aware of her, he moved one hand and unerringly found her clit. He stroked her, sending her over the edge one more time.

  He collapsed on top of her. If this was what submission was like, about, she wanted more. This joining had not existed with anyone else.

  She was barely aware of the world around her as he withdrew his spent cock and went into the bathroom. She somehow managed to crawl up onto the bed and turn onto her side.

  Moments later he pressed something warm and damp against her rear.

  “Shh,” he told her.

  She didn’t protest as he cleaned her with a washcloth. The water soothed her burning skin. A few moments later, the bed sagged beneath his weight. He eased her against him, and held her tight. She stiffened.

  “I’m not open to negotiation, Chelsea. Freaking relax.”

  He smoothed her hair as he tucked her under his chin. Despite the fact her overnight bag was still in her car, she’d refused to spend a night with him. That spoke to an intimacy she didn’t want with him. But now, here she was, in his house, his bed, his arms. And she wanted to stay. She gave herself permission to stay where she was for five minutes. That couldn’t hurt anything. Right?

  When she woke, it was the middle of the night.

  She started to get out of the bed only to have him pull her tight. She knew he wasn’t awake, so his grip was instinctive and domineering, but she didn’t want to struggle against him and risk a confrontation.

  Before she’d sorted through all of her thoughts, his warmth and strength lulled her back to sleep.

  * * * *

  The scent of coffee brought her to consciousness. When she opened her eyes, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at her and holding two cups of coffee. She propped herself on her elbows. “Are both of those for me?”

  “I was hoping you’d share.”

  “If I’m feeling generous,” she said. She scooted to a sitting position and rested her shoulders against the headboard. She accepted a cup and inhaled deeply. “Thank you.” She took a sip. He’d added the perfect splash of cream, and the beverage was hot and strong. “If you spoil me like this, I might never leave.”

  “What makes you think I was hoping you would?”

  Their gazes locked. She looked away first. Damn. She had to stay focused on her goal. And her goal was not to play with him. It was to snare Master Evan C.

  “I’d like to leave for the Den by five o’clock,” he said. “Do you mind meeting here since I’m closer?”

  “Perfect.”

  Even though he invited her to use his shower, she decided to go home. With the way her emotions were in turmoil, she needed distance and space.

  As she discovered after being in her apartment for two hours, it didn’t help. Being alone only made her more uncertain and restless. When she’d approached Master Alexander, this had all seemed so easy. He’d train her. She’d land Master Evan C as a client and Dom. Another success in her business and her life.

  The day loomed in front of her.

  After tossing in a load of laundry and straightening the house, she decided to do some work. She checked her e-mails, and she was delighted to find one from Master Evan C. Finally. He said he was interested in talking to her more about her proposal, and maybe they’d have a chance to connect at the party.

  She pumped her fist in the air and swivelled her chair in circles.

  But when silence echoed back mockingly, she frowned. Somehow the small
victory felt hollow with no one to share it with.

  There was another e-mail from her assistant. Jennifer suggested that, since Alexander Monahan hadn’t responded positively to the idea of a charity fundraiser, maybe they should contact his brother.

  Chelsea drummed her fingers on the keyboard. She doubted Alex would approve of her going behind his back. But if her assistant did it… Well, she knew he wouldn’t like that either. But a lot of good could come from the publicity.

  What the hell.

  After tonight, she’d likely never see Master Alexander again. And she still had a business to run. She replied, telling Jennifer to go for it, then Chelsea decided to take a quick shower before heading to the hot tub. Luckily there were no teenage boys around, and she had the area all to herself.

  Despite the fact she wanted to think about business, random images of Master Alex flashed through her mind. She saw him in jeans. Wearing dress trousers. Naked. Dragging her over his lap. Showing her a flogger. Doubling over his belt.

  She’d never before had trouble with getting derailed once she had a course of action, but Master Alex consumed her.

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. And the truth smacked her. The reason she’d hesitated in contacting his brother was that she didn’t want the relationship to end. Master Alex’s comment about her staying in his life stopped her pulse. He might have meant it as a joke, but part of her wanted it to be true.

  So where did that leave her?

  Anxiety churning in her, she opened her eyes and sat up. She needed action so that she could drown out the clamour in her head.

  She showered then put some gel in her hair, squeezed the locks with her fingers. Now that it was time to dress, courage deserted her.

  The idea of stripping to play with Master Evan C should have made her moist with anticipation, but it didn’t. She felt such angst over the fact that she might never see Master Alex again.

  She dressed in a lacy black bra, a matching thong, and some thigh-high stockings. The elastic around them kept them in place without the need for a garter belt. She added a skirt, a tight-fitting top, and a pair of ridiculously high heels.

  She swiped on some mascara and applied a layer of foundation before grabbing her purse and heading for her car.

 

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