Leather and Grace

by Maggie Ryan

  “I’ll be there, now go, girl!” Since that was about the best advice she could ever receive, Grace, her Dom by her side, did just that.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Are you sure you should leave the class? Master Conner left and, well, I don’t mind waiting for you if you need…”

  “What I need is you,” Quentin said as they stepped off the elevator. “Trent and Sloan have it under control and besides, what’s the point of being the boss unless you take advantage of the perks?” She felt a quiver run through her as he looked down on her, grateful to see the vein no longer pulsing.

  Once inside his apartment, he said, “As beautiful as you look, I’m afraid you might cause a few cardiac arrests at the hospital. We’ll go see Brody and find out what Detective Stewart discovered once we’ve changed.”

  Seeing her clothes from earlier neatly folded on his couch, she stepped away to reach for them. “It won’t take me but a minute.”

  “I’m afraid that even with your Dom helping you, it’ll take a little longer than that, Miss Hensley,” he said with his own grin. “Come here.”

  Returning to him, she saw that the soft grey of his eyes had turned smoky, and she felt as if tendrils of that smoke were shifting through her body, hardening her nipples and moistening her sex. As he reached for the hem of her blouse and began to draw it over her head, pausing to bend and kiss each hardened peak of her breasts through the satin of her bra, she instantly knew on a far more primitive level the truth of the adage: ‘Where there is smoke, there is fire.’ Her blouse was tossed onto the coffee table and was soon joined by her skirt.

  “We’ve got enough time to have a private lesson. Stand at attention but with your arms at your sides.”

  She shivered and burned at the same time as his eyes raked up and down her body once she’d obeyed. Quentin ran his thumbs over the black satin and lace of her bra, teasing her nipples until she was afraid they’d poke through in desperation to feel his caress without any barrier, no matter how soft or silky their present containment was. In a state of bliss as he gently played, his fingers moving to trace the skin of her breasts that her bra didn’t cover, she gave a startled yelp when he suddenly yanked the bra down, the straps tightening on her shoulders at the additional stretch required with the bra cups now beneath her breasts, the tighter fit forcing them to be displayed rather lewdly. And yet, when his head dropped and he began to retrace the path his fingers had taken, this time with his tongue, she felt her arousal ratchet up to a new level. She lifted her hand to run through his hair only to squeal when a sharp nip on her breast caused her to pause.

  “A submissive that has been ordered into a position does not move without permission,” he said, lifting his head for a moment to meet her eyes.

  “Yes, sir.” Her heart beat faster with the understanding that the teacher had not truly left the classroom, he’d simply changed its location. As his mouth returned to her breasts, a kiss delivered to the spot he’d just nipped, she felt a sense of wonder knowing that, while there were probably a thousand men who could teach such things as positions, protocol, or rules needed to begin to understand a BDSM club’s environment, and millions could deliver a spanking or scratch an itch, she felt totally alive for the first time with only one man… this man…

  “Eyes on me.”

  She hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes until his order. Opening them, she met his. “Don’t move,” he said softly. God, was it wrong to feel like she was almost being worshipped as his lips closed around a nipple, his tongue flicking rapidly across the puckered surface. Her question changed as his teeth closed and pulled lightly. How could he expect her not to move, not to squirm and not to put her hand on the back of his head and pull him closer? Still, other than issuing a soft moan and quivering, she didn’t move, not even when he released her only to give her other nipple the same combination of exquisite pleasure combined with a sharp nip of pain.

  “Good girl,” he said, lifting his head and only then reaching behind her back to undo the clasp of her bra. Whereas she always just tossed it off, he drew it down her arms slowly, taking his time to watch her skin pebble into gooseflesh. “You’ve got the most delectable nipples. They are like raspberries, and when swollen, they become the prettiest dark pink, ready to be plucked and eaten.”

  Good lord, who said things like that? It appeared her Dom did, and once he’d added her bra to the growing pile, his fingers and thumbs closed around those raspberries and began to tug, twist and pull until she was breathing hard. He seemed to know exactly when she was about to give in to her almost desperate need to shift because his fingers released her nipples and began to slide down her sides, fingertips pebbling her skin with each feather light stroke until they reached the lacy waistband of her panties. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he knelt and dragged her underwear down as slowly as he had her bra.

  “Step out,” he instructed, placing a hand on her in support as she obeyed, lifting one foot and then the other.

  Forget pink, she knew her face turned scarlet as he lifted the black lace to his face and inhaled deeply. Oh, dear sweet mother of God, how could something so embarrassing be so erotic? When he tossed them aside and then placed his hands on her upper thighs to give his next order to spread wider, and then pressed his tongue against her dripping sex, she began to wobble, her knees shaking as he licked up and down the seam of her sex as if he were some primal cat savoring a bowl of cream. He took her to the very edge and then pulled his tongue away. At the sight of him licking his lips free of her cream, her body was so primed that she almost climaxed. The soft mews she’d been uttering changed to form a single word.

  “Please…”

  “Naughty,” he said with a grin that had her bottom twitching. “A sub at attention does not speak unless asked a question.” He rose with a grace that defied the women he’d taught and took a step back, never dropping his gaze. “That’s twice you’ve been naughty. One more, and I’m afraid you’ll find it a bit difficult to sit tonight. Understood?”

  When had swallowing become something she had to concentrate on in order to do? “Yes-yes, sir.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t want you to feel you are behind in your class so, Grace, I’m going to teach you the position your classmates learned tonight. There are different terms given in various forms but for the submissives we reach, it is simply called ‘Present’.

  “Go ahead and assume the Nadu.” After she had, he said, “Now, when told to ‘present’, you’ll lean forward and place your hands straight out and your cheek against the floor. You should always know where your Dom is and turn your face in that direction. Keep your hands crossed at the wrists, which indicates your readiness to have them bound if your Dom so chooses. Go ahead.”

  Just seeing her move to follow his order, her face turned towards him, her legs still spread, and the bend pushing her ass up into the air, he felt his cock harden. He squatted down beside her, placing his palm on the small of her back. “Good. The position opens your body for both visual stimulation and preparation for being taken. You’ll arch your back and lift your ass, keeping your legs widely spread. Do so now.”

  She did, and though she could see nothing but the black leather of his boots, she could easily imagine what she must look like. The waft of air across her exposed sex, its chill greater than the air she felt on any other part of her naked body, told her how wet she must be. Without thought, her teeth caught her lip as she felt a single finger move down the crack of her ass, pausing to give the tiniest press against the small orifice that he’d opened for the first time only an hour earlier. She gasped and yet didn’t pull away as he continued his journey until he had skimmed the lips of her pussy, delving inside to twirl in her abundant juices.

  “Do you understand how this position is one favored by a great many Doms?” he asked, removing his finger to circle the small bundle of nerves normally lying dormant in the concealment of its little hood.

  “Y-yes, sir.”

&nbs
p; “You are so very beautiful,” he said, giving her clitoris a tap that had her hands fisting as she fought hard not to move, not to press herself back in an attempt to grind herself against his hand. “I can’t tell you how honored I am that you have chosen me, Grace. I want to teach you everything you desire. And I admit that I’m not sure I could have kept myself from taking you if you’d assumed this position upstairs.”

  He rose, his hand leaving her sex and leaving her on the edge of climax for the second time. “But we aren’t upstairs, are we?”

  “No-no, sir,” she said softly, her pulse rate jumping as she saw that he was removing his boots, and her breathing almost stopping when she saw his pants dropping to the floor.

  “Shh,” he said, and only then did she realized she was whimpering. God, she wanted to lift her head so badly, to watch his body being revealed. When his black t-shirt hit the floor, she made a conscious decision. To hell with it, she’d been spanked before, and it was really a small price to pay in order to discover what ink he’d chosen to adorn his skin.

  Intending to just lift her head enough to be able to look up, she gasped and was soon sitting back on her heels. The tip of the tattoo previously hidden by his shirtsleeve was only the tiniest part of the most incredible ink she’d ever seen. No color distracted the monochrome scheme of stark black shaded with lighter greys. The art was not only a feast for the eyes but seemed to draw her very soul into its wonder, and her fingers itched to reach up and trace every pattern, to dance from one to another as if following a labyrinth—but one for which there was no rush to escape. She’d known that he was ripped, but the defined muscles of his abdomen forced her to once again relearn how to swallow.

  “Quentin, God, you are… are gorgeous!” When her eyes dropped lower, she sucked in her breath. Though he’d been inside her before, though she’d suckled him, the sight of his full erection, unrestricted or hidden by clothing, protruding from his groin, made her moan. “And, big… very, very big.” She knew there would be a puddle beneath her hips when he crouched next to her, his cock a mere centimeter from her skin.

  “And you, little one, are quite the naughty girl. Did you hear me giving you permission to release or change positions?”

  She met his eyes, though took another moment to gaze at the tattoo before answering. “No, sir, but… well, I decided it was worth a spanking. I’ve been dying to know what you looked like bare and, yes, it was definitely worth a sore ass.”

  “Ah, babe, I’m so glad you think so,” he said, his finger reaching out to stroke her cheek. “But who said anything about a spanking?”

  Surprised, she said, “You did.”

  “No, if you’ll recall, I said that if you were naughty again, you’d find it difficult to sit.”

  “I know, that’s what I just said—”

  “Grace, I’m going to find great pleasure in teaching you that there are a thousand different ways to punish a naughty girl.” His words had her mind spinning, the look in his eyes had her breath hitching and his soft kiss had her heart filling. When he pulled back, he said, “But first, a lesson in pleasure. Present,” and as he stood, she obeyed.

  ***

  Quentin moved but not behind her. Instead, he walked into his bedroom, returning a few minutes later to find Grace hadn’t moved. He grinned, thinking that if her obedience, flushed face and glistening sex didn’t prove she was a natural submissive, nothing would. He stepped behind her. “Arch your back more. I want your ass lifted high.” She obeyed, and he knew he’d never seen a more beautiful sight as he sank to his knees behind her, placing the objects he’d retrieved on the cloth he spread out.

  He ran his palms across the hillocks of her bottom, massaging the skin, relishing her small moan as he reawakened the fire he’d built earlier even though the color had long disappeared from her pale flesh. His fingers continued to stroke and caress down her hips and upper thighs until he lifted one to cup the pouch of her sex in his palm. Grinning, he knew that he’d need very little of the lubricant he had brought back as she was providing a great deal of her own. Pushing two fingers into her caused her to moan deeply. Slow thrusts, just enough to tease but not to push her over the edge, had his fingers soaked and her beginning to move as if to help him in his finger fucking.

  “Anxious, are we?” he asked, synching his movements so that the deep thrust and the slap against her ass were delivered as one.

  “Ahh,” she cried, her hips dropping a bit at the stroke and then instantly lifting at the next thrust.

  “Ah, indeed,” he said, pulling his fingers from her and spreading her buttocks with the hand that had just spanked her. “Or should I say, awe inspiring?” he asked, pressing his finger against her tightly puckered entrance and hearing her gasp. “Relax, Grace, I’ve got you.” He took his time sinking his finger into her ass, pausing when it breached her sphincter, allowing her a moment to adjust before pushing forward. He thrust slowly and withdrew, time and time again until she had not only stopped clenching, she was making sounds of pleasure instead of little gasps of pain.

  “Good girl,” he said, pulling out only to add a second finger, again going slow at the greater stretch required of her for entry. His cock was twitching, silently demanding that it take the place of his fingers, and yet he was a patient man. She wasn’t ready but, after tonight, she’d have taken a big step towards being prepared—though she wasn’t yet aware of that fact. Once she was again making soft mews of pleasure, he began to scissor his fingers apart, stretching her opening, forcing the muscles to relax for his play.

  Reaching for the first object, he lifted it, drawing it up the cleft of her ass, loving her little jerk as the cold glass met hotter flesh. “Care to guess what this is?”

  “Um, I-I have no idea, sir, but it’s cold!”

  “I assure you, it won’t be for long.” Removing his fingers from her ass, he reached for the second object. Opening the top, he allowed a stream of lubricant to run down from the first sphere to the last, his fingers becoming slick as he made sure each anal bead was completely coated. Satisfied, he bent over her, allowing the string of glass balls to come into her view.

  “Is that a… a necklace?”

  Chuckling, he shook his head. “Beads, yes, but babe, they don’t go around your pretty neck.” Pressing a finger into her ass, loving her soft moan, he said, “Care to guess where each of these will be going?”

  “Oh my God, you’re going to put those in… in my ass?”

  “Every single one.”

  “You—you can’t. They won’t fit!”

  “Shall we see?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. Instead, he replaced his finger with the first bead on the string. She gasped at the difference in the feel of smooth glass pressing against her sphincter and the gave a moan as it easily slipped inside. “Count them as they enter your ass.”

  “Oh, God… one.”

  “Good girl.”

  “Two.”

  Another entered and was counted before her small moan became deeper. “Oh… God, four. I can’t…”

  “You can,” Quentin assured her, pressing the fifth against her anus. Each bead on the string was slightly larger than the previous, and this one was forcing her pucker to stretch wider and yet it still wasn’t the largest. “It is so incredible watching your ass swallow each one.”

  She groaned and then gave a sharp yelp as her body did indeed accept the next invader. He slid a finger over her dripping sex. “Number?”

  “Wh… what?”

  He chuckled. “How many beads are you holding?”

  “Um… four… five?”

  “Maybe having two numbers both beginning with the same letter has you confused. Let me help you with that problem, shall I?” Her groan competed with his chuckle as the sixth bead began to press into her bottom. “What comes after five?”

  “Sir… I feel…” The entry of the bead and his finger pressing in behind it to make sure it was deeply seated had her pausing. “Oh, God, I feel… so full.”


  “Not as full as you shall be,” he assured her. “Ready for number seven?”

  “Quentin, I… I can’t!”

  “Says the woman who never believed she’d take even one,” he said. She not only managed to accept the seventh, she didn’t miss a single count as he continued. “Last one,” he said, rolling the tenth and largest bead against her opening. “Ask me for it,” he commanded, once again bending over her, his lips at her ear. “Ask me to fill your ass completely.”

  Her breaths were coming in little pants, her eyes closed, quivering as his breath wafted over her ear. “Plea… please, sir… fill me…”

  “Where?” he asked, giving her earlobe a nip.

  “Oh, God… my… my ass, sir.”

  “My pleasure,” he assured her, lifting off her body and watching with intense pleasure as he slowly pressed the last bead into her body, her passage now quite full, and yet he knew there were far larger things she’d learn to accept. Running his fingers through her sex, he wasn’t surprised to find her dripping. “Shall I fill this, as well?”

  “Ye… yes, fuck, yes!”

  Positioning himself, he pressed into her and loved her squeal. She’d been tight before and with the string of beads buried in her ass, it took more effort to bury himself balls deep. He could feel the bumps of the spheres rubbing against his cock through the thin membrane in her body. As he began to thrust, she began to rock against him, her discomfort evidently not an issue as she was informing him within moments that she was going to climax.

  “You’ll soon learn that little girls who come without being given permission are considered naughty,” he said, pulling almost completely from her.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus, if that’s true, I’m afraid my butt will always be sore.”

  “That may be but you are not to come until given permission, Grace.”

  “Please… I can’t… I need…”