Don't Come

by Jessica Gadziala

  That was the hardest part - keeping my eyes down. Even as I heard DOM tinkering with stuff on his dresser, as I was sure I heard the whoosh of some form of clothing hit the floor, as I heard the bed depress several times.

  It felt like forever until he finally moved to stand in front of me. I could see his feet - bare, something that almost seemed oddly vulnerable in a man - and the edge of his black slacks. But nothing else.

  He stood there for a long moment, saying nothing, doing nothing, making my heartbeat skip into hyperdrive before his fingers moved up to snag my chin with enough pressure that he was starting to pull me up. Figuring that was what I was meant to do, I moved to stand, keeping my eyes down. Where I got to see that I had been right; there had been a whoosh of clothing hitting the floor. He had completely discarded his shirt, giving me an eyeful I had never gotten of him before.

  And what an eyeful too.

  The muscles in his abdomen were etched deep, lines that oddly made me want to run my tongue between them.

  His fingers left my chin, his hand closing around my throat, tightening just enough to send a shot of desire between my thighs.

  "Breath is uneven already," he observed, tightening further. "Look at me," he demanded, making my greedy gaze shoot up to his gorgeous face, getting lost for a moment in the golden specks deep within his eyes. His hand tightened again, making my lips fall open on an indrawn breath. "Oh, that's going to be fun," he said, making a shiver of anticipation course through me. "Come on," he said, reaching down to touch my hip, steering me toward the bed. "Hop up, flat on your back."

  It was when I was climbing up that I saw them.

  That was what he had been doing, why the bed had been making noises.

  He was putting restraints under the mattress.

  At the top.

  And the bottom.

  I took a deep breath, finding it did nothing to ease the shaky feeling sneaking over my skin.

  This was the one real fear I had.

  Not just having my wrists held down, something that undeniably turned me on. But being completely and utterly restrained, one-hundred percent at someone else's mercy.

  It was terrifying to be made powerless.

  "Adley?" DOM's voice called, making me turn back around. "What's the matter?"

  "Ah... um... I'm not sure about this," I admitted, gesturing toward the end of the bed.

  DOM's eyes went to the restraints then back to me. "You don't need to be sure. You need to try it," he informed me, voice understanding, but firm. "Yellow and red, pet. But you are going to try it. You won't ever know your limits if you don't push yourself."

  The reasoning was fair, wasn't it?

  If I didn't try things and push myself with him, I wouldn't have ever experienced edging or flogging or letting him use me for his pleasure - something that brought me some too, sore throat aside.

  How would I know if I didn't give it a shot?

  "Okay," I agreed, moving to the center of the bed, slowly lowering down, taking slow, deep breaths like he so often told me to do.

  "The wrists don't bother you." It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway as he reached to grab the first material strap, and moved to slip my wrist into it.

  "No, sir."

  He gave me a small nod, leisurely moving to the other side of the bed to capture my other wrist. Partially restrained, his hand moved up my side, fingers teasing over my ribs to trace under my breast before snagging my nipple.

  There was no lead up to it.

  No teasing.

  No testing.

  Because he already knew just how hard he could squeeze before I needed to tap out. And his fingers squeezed just that hard, making my body jerk, half-twisting to try to ease the torment.

  My left wrist pulled, preventing me from even being able to half-curl into myself.

  His hand shifted, tormenting my other nipple until both felt like they were on fire and pulsating.

  And while I was distracted by that, one of the ankle restraints slipped over my foot.

  "Breathe," he reminded me, walking across the bottom of the bed toward my other leg. He snagged it when I went to pull it away, binding my other ankle too quickly even to fight. "Adley, breathe," he said again, voice stern as all my limbs jerked at once, met with not even an inch of slack.

  It happened slowly, yet all at once.

  The panic.

  It was in the hammering of my heart against the confines of my ribcage. It was in the pulse points in my throat, temples, wrists, and groin that felt like they were thrumming. It was in the way my chest felt pressed under a heavy weight, keeping my lungs from drawing in breath. It was in the way my skin felt hot and clammy all at once.

  "Adley, breathe," DOM said, voice forceful, trying to break through. I heard him. I knew he was right. But I couldn't seem to make the air inflate my chest. I couldn't stop the way my skin felt like it was crawling.

  I was vaguely aware of DOM coming closer, reaching out to grab my chin, forcing my face toward his, allowing him to watch the growing panic building through me.

  "You're fine," he reminded me. "You're safe. Nothing is happening to you right now. You're just restrained."

  I knew that.

  Logically, I knew that.

  I could trust him.

  But the problem was... anxiety and fear were not logical.

  Anxiety was a monster who whispered in your ear little things over time until you started to believe them, until they became your new beliefs.

  I had been telling myself for years that there was nothing more terrifying than watching someone in a show or documentary be restrained to a bed, thrashing at their chains without a chance of getting free. Powerless.

  And all that old programming came flooding back, stronger, the fears screaming louder until they blocked out all the logic, all the sane arguments that I was perfectly fine.

  Because I sure didn't feel fine.

  I felt like I was suffocating.

  "Adley," DOM's voice snapped when I felt my body start to tremble, moving through every inch of me until I could even feel it in my head. "I want to stop this, but you need to learn to say the word when you feel it."

  I swallowed hard, watching his face, seeing nothing there but complete concern for me in the moment, knowing he was right. Knowing I wasn't powerless. In fact, with him, I always had power.

  "Red," I hissed out, watching as his arm flew out, releasing my left ankle, then reaching across the bed to do the right, getting me free in a matter of seconds.

  But he didn't stop with my ankles.

  He reached and freed my wrists as well, allowing me to curl up on my side, cocking my legs up into my stomach, taking slow, deep breaths, trying to get control over myself again.

  The bed depressed, and I could feel DOM's body slide in behind mine, his knees cocking under mine, my ass settling into his lap, his solid chest against my back, and, finally his arm draping across my waist.

  "It's okay," he crooned into my ear, his voice soft. "This wasn't a bad thing," he added. When I couldn't help but make a snorting noise, he made a small chuckle. "We learned a limit today, pet. So now we don't do that again."

  "I'm sorry that--"

  "Don't," he cut me off, giving my stomach a squeeze. "You don't apologize for having limits. They are your right to have."

  "But you--"

  "Are only going to get off on something if you are getting off on it too. I don't get shit out of watching you freak out, Adley. That's not fun for me either. I am not coming into this with expectations about what acts we do or don't perform, what toys we can or can not play with. I just come in with the options, expose you to them, and you make the decision if we can play. This is important for you to understand, okay? You aren't going to disappoint me, or whatever other little niggling fear you have going on in your head right now."

  That was it, too.

  Not that I would be a disappointment per se.

  But that the experiences might be disappoi
nting.

  "I know you're a lot more experienced. And there are other subs who--"

  "Who I didn't pick. That was how that sentence was going to end, right? Because I could have picked someone else. I didn't. I picked you. And I don't want to hear you comparing yourself to them, at least not in front of me."

  "Why?"

  "Because they don't matter. They're the background noise of a crowded bar that you don't notice because the big game is on."

  I felt my lips curve up at that, at the way it moved through me like molasses, warm and thick. "I'm the big game?"

  "You're what my focus is on."

  Well, there was no denying that, was there?

  I had never been around a man who was so attuned to me, to every expression in my face, every twitch of my body, every sound from my lips.

  It felt like a gift to have someone so fully focused on you.

  "Feeling better?"

  "Yeah."

  "Let's try something different," he suggested, moving out from behind me, making me turn onto my back to watch as he moved not to his dresser, but into his closet, moving things around for a long moment. I might have been curious what he was looking for, but I was not complaining about the view, his long, sloped back with his wide, muscular shoulders, watching as they tightened and twisted as he moved things around.

  When he finally turned, he had a factory-wrapped hoop of rope. And not the soft, coated kind. Oh, no. This was going to twist and burn and bite into my skin.

  Why the hell did that idea made my sex clench hard?

  DOM's finger pierced the plastic, dropping it casually down on the floor as he moved to the bed, climbing up, moving over until his hips were straddling my waist. His head tilted down, a wicked promise pulling at his lips as he unraveled the rope and reached above my head. My own tilted up to watch as the rope slipped between the thick wooden rungs of his headboard that I hadn't given any thought to before.

  "Fucking love this bed," he said when he caught me considering it. "Arms up, hands clasped," he demanded, wrapping the rope around them in an intricate pattern that said somebody paid really good attention in Boy Scouts.

  "Somebody got their knot Merit Badge, huh?" I asked, smiling big when his gaze shot down to me, confused for a second, then letting out a choked little laugh that said I caught him off-guard, something I found I liked.

  Sure, maybe I wasn't the kind of sub he was used to, the one who always knew what to do, how to act, what to say - and not to say - but that could be a good thing, right? To keep him on his toes? To give him something different?

  "Something like that," he agreed, twisting the knot harder like a punishment for teasing him. But that was okay. It was a punishment I was happy to take.

  Finished, he sat back on his heels, eyes raking over me for a long moment before the urge to reach out became too strong, his hand sliding down my throat, giving it a small squeeze before seeking lower, finding my breasts. My body tensed for the pain that never came as his fingers stayed surprisingly gentle as they softly rolled my nipples into hardened peaks before drifting to whisper over my ribs, traced the line of my lower stomach until he couldn't explore anymore because his body was in the way.

  Instead of moving away, seeking my heat that was already dripping with need, his body shifted forward, his hands planting at my sides so he could lower down, press his weight into me as his head ducked down to run his tongue up my neck, making my nipples tweak harder, pressing into his chest.

  I wanted his head to lift, to shift, so his lips could seal over mine.

  Never before had I been so starved for something as simple as a kiss.

  But DOM had no intentions of giving me one as his teeth snagged my earlobe before he was moving downward, face going between my breasts before shifting to the side at the last moment, sucking my nipple into his mouth. Arching my back up off the mattress, a throaty moan escaped me, making his eyes open to look up at me, watching me as his lips released... and his teeth snagged. Hard.

  A surprised yelp escaped me, my body jolting, my arms instinctively trying to pull, making the tight rope nip across the soft skin, sending a burning sensation through my wrists.

  A hiss escaped me that made his eyes heat all the more as his head shifted to snag my other nipple, biting it harder, smiling when the headboard made a knocking noise I pulled so hard against it.

  His mouth released me, head moving again to the center of my chest, tongue slipping out to trace between then down my belly, making goosebumps prickle up over my skin as he traced my navel, then kept seeking lower as his body shifted.

  All I could think as his tongue explored my skin was... I never expected this. Not from him. Except... after. During, there wasn't softness. There wasn't sweetness. But there was no denying that that was exactly what this was - soft and sweet. Like any normal man learning his lover's body.

  Except we weren't lovers. Not really.

  But there was no denying that, in this moment, as his head shifted to plant a kiss to the dip of my hipbone, that it was feeling like it.

  And it was making my body feel warm and heavy and sated, comforted, but turned-on at the same time.

  His head shifted, his tongue sliding down the triangle hiding my sex, making my body tense, my legs fall open instinctively in invitation.

  Which he accepted.

  Eagerly.

  His tongue slid to the side, caressing down the edge of one lip, then just as softly up the other, his eyes closed as he did so, like he was savoring this, like he enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed exploring his cock.

  As if the word burst from my lips instead of flashing across my mind, his eyes opened to watch me as his lips found my clit and sucked. Hard.

  A cry escaped me, my arms pulling so hard that the pain was hot and insistent from the ropes. He watched, eyes heating, as the pain registered, as I tried to relax my arms and shoulders.

  And only when I did that did his tongue start sliding over the swollen bud, fast and unrelenting, driving me up quickly.

  My body was writhing against his sheets, my moans more like pained whimpers as the pressure built, as the need for relief grew.

  But he pulled suddenly away, smiling when I cried out, begged him not to stop. He pressed back up, sitting back on his heels between my shamelessly spread legs. His gaze was there, making me acutely aware of how wet I was, knowing he was seeing it.

  His hand moved, gliding up my thigh, tracing the crease where my thigh met my sex like it was the most interesting secret in the world, like it was something he wanted to know more about.

  I was so steeped in the sensation that my eyes closed, reveling in the feeling of being so worshipped.

  So I didn't see his hand move.

  Two finger thrust deep inside me, making my body jump, my arms dragging against their ropes again, my fingers unclasping, grabbing desperately at the knot right above my wrists as his fingers started fucking me hard and fast, thrusting, twisting, never letting my body get used to any sensation before a new one replaced it, confusing my body into a delirious need for more, for everything.

  "Please, what, pet?" DOM asked, only making me aware right then that I had been whimpering, begging, pleading with him.

  "Please fuck me, sir," I replied, my walls tightening around his fingers, making him let out a low growl.

  "You want my cock in this greedy pussy?" he asked, tapping once against my top wall, making me cry out. "You think you've earned that?" he demanded to know as his fingers started thrusting faster.

  I had no idea what it would take to deserve it, but I was too beside myself to care what it was. I would do it.

  "What do I have to do, sir?" I choked out when his fingers turned and started relentlessly engaging my G-spot. "I'll do anything," I offered. Anything, anything to finally feel him inside me.

  "That's a good girl," he praised at the exact second that I lost his fingers. "Sh," he said when I cried out, his body shifting forward slightly, one hand planting beside me. "Open y
our mouth," he demanded. The second I did, his wet fingers slipped inside, forcing me to taste the proof of my desire for him. "See how much you want me?" he asked, thrusting his fingers in and out, demanding I clean them off for him before pressing back onto his heels, reaching his hands down to undo his button and zip, making my stomach twist hard in anticipation.

  I watched his strong hands as they slipped inside, pulling out his hard, straining cock - proof that he wanted me just as much as I wanted him.

  He stroked it as he watched me watching. Precum beaded up on the head, making me instinctively try to sit up and lick it off, take him in my mouth again. But all I got was the rope digging in and a chuckle from DOM as he mumbled what sounded like Greedy mouth under his breath.

  His body shifted forward, his hand sliding to the base of his cock as he ran it slowly up my slit, making my knees come up off the bed, my thighs trying to close around him, trying to get more of the sensation. The head stopped at my clit, pressing in hard until I let out a low, deep moan, then tapping the bottom over the swollen bud until my body was fighting the restraints, not even aware of the pain, too consumed by the pleasure and the need for more of it.

  "Don't come," he demanded as my body started to tense for it.

  "I have to," I whimpered, crying out when his cock stopped its tapping, but pretty sure even the end of that wasn't going to stop the teetering on the edge sensation my body was feeling. If I so much as pressed my thighs together, it was going to be enough friction to make the orgasm scream through me.

  "I said don't come," he snapped, his hand leaving his cock, and slapping hard across my pussy.

  The pain was sharp and startling, making my body jerk hard, my gaze shooting up to his face. Where I saw a sternness, but victory too. Because he knew exactly what he was doing. The unexpected and almost cruel pain stopped my orgasm in its tracks, took me back away from the edge in a second.

  "Ow," I whimpered, still feeling the sting even a moment after the strike.