by M. S. Parker
“I’m sorry, sir.”
He laughed. “Do you want to stop wearing underwear?” he asked, amusement in his voice. “Be honest.”
I squirmed and then answered, “No.”
“Then don’t lie. Besides…” He nudged me down again. When I had my face pressed to the mattress, he started to tug on my panties, dragging the silk so that it was rubbing against me, over my clit, between the cheeks of my ass. “If you wear it, I get to play with it. Get to feel how wet I make you.” He squeezed my ass. “Take them off of you.”
I shuddered.
“We need to talk about you biting me. Was that the appropriate way to say hello?” he asked.
“I…” My mind struggled for an answer, because dammit, sometimes I just wanted to bite him. Besides, he bit me too, and I knew he liked it as much as I did.
I took too long to answer and his hand came down on my ass again. I yelped and instinctively responded. “No. No, sir!”
“Then why did you do it?” He spanked me again before I even had a chance to respond.
I gasped and lifted my butt, arousal twisting me into a hot, tight knot.
“You woke me up, sir. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Aleena...” There was a warning in his voice.
I made myself be completely honest. “Because I wanted to, sir. I like biting you.”
“Why?” The hitch in his voice encouraged me to tell the truth.
“Because I like marking you.” His hand flexed on my ass. “You're mine.”
“Fuck.” The word came out in a groan. He leaned down so that his mouth was pressed against my ear. “I am yours. And you're mine.” He straightened and delivered two sharp stinging blows to my ass. “But I think you forgot who's in charge, and I really should punish you for that.” He cupped my ass and then trailed his fingers over my hot, sensitive skin. “I’m wondering what I should do.”
I was tempted to wiggle my butt, but I was afraid if I did I would give him the wrong sort of idea. I wanted him, but I also wanted to be able to sit today. But then he smoothed his hand down the curve of my hip and I couldn’t help but wiggle, then sigh.
The sigh turned into a wail because he was suddenly inside me, deep and hard and fast. So hard and fast, it hurt. It bruised. I was wet, but not wet enough. Too tight. But it was a delicious pain and I arched my back to take him deeper. I wanted all of him.
When he was completely wedged within me, he placed his hand at the small of my back. “Be still, Aleena. Be still now.”
I moaned as he closed his hand around the cuffs that held my hands, and then he started to move. I gasped as he thrust into me and instinctively began to roll my hips, needing to move with him.
Immediately he stopped.
“I said be still.”
His cock pulsed inside me, throbbed. I could feel the orgasm hovering at the very core of me, but he wouldn’t fucking move. He held still, locked within, just waiting.
“What are you supposed to say, Aleena?”
“Yes, sir.”
I nearly sobbed in relief as he started to move again. I held there, focusing everything I had on not moving, on being still, just so he wouldn’t stop.
“That’s a good girl.” His voice was low and ragged.
I jumped as his hand came down on my ass. Hard.
Immediately, he went still again. “Be still.”
“I’m sorry.” My voice broke as I said it. I was so close. My muscles were quivering, my clit throbbing. It was agony and ecstasy and I wasn’t sure I could take anymore. “I’m sorry, sir. Please forgive me, sir.”
“Be still.”
This time, when he began to move against me hard and fast, he spanked me, alternating thrusts and sharp smacks on either cheek. Thrust in, spank. Pull out, spank. Each time, it seemed he went deeper and the blows became harder until my skin burned and I was nothing more than a burning, aching mass of need.
And I held still.
My climax was growing, swelling, a massive thing, so huge, I thought it might tear me apart.
“Please,” I started to beg, tears streaming down my face at the overload of sensations racing through me. “Please, sir, please let me come. Please, please, please!”
He bent low over me. Brushing my hair back from my ear, he said roughly, “Come for me, Aleena. Come now.”
I came for him. I'd always come for him.
As my climax crashed over me, I felt his hips jerk, losing his rhythm. Losing control. He said my name as he came and my final thought before nearly passing out was that I was going to like waking up next to him.
He woke me with sex and left me with a promise.
I was slumped over the breakfast bar in the kitchen when he came in nearly an hour later and pressed a kiss to my neck. “We’re going out tonight. Wear those pretty clothes I haven't gotten to see you in yet. They’ve been washed and pressed.”
“Umm.” I smiled at him, but that was about all I had the energy for.
He chuckled and kissed my cheek. I tried to work up the brain power to make words. But again, umm was all I could do.
He left me sitting there and I dropped my head onto the surface of the bar, thought about the pretty clothes he’d mentioned.
We were going out.
Going out…
I jerked my head up, lethargy gone under a rush of panic.
Going out?
As in…out?
Olympus.
Our regular car wasn’t waiting when we stepped out of the penthouse. In its place was a long, sleek stretch limo.
I looked from the car to Dominic. “What’s this?”
“A surprise. I thought you’d enjoy a little bit of luxury.”
Running my tongue across my teeth, I looked up at the penthouse and then back at him. “Dominic, I live with more luxury than I know how to handle.”
He traced his finger down my cheek and that light touch made me shiver. “I like to spoil you. Indulge me.”
“Indulge you?” I shook my head and smiled. “The last thing you need is to be indulged.” But I let him assist me into the back of the car. The driver remained by the door, making no move to help me. Even though I didn't know his name, I knew he must've been with Dominic long enough to know better.
Dominic had this thing about being the one to help me in and out when we went anywhere. The possessiveness of it thrilled me to the bone, even if it did feel silly sometimes. It wasn’t like I didn’t know how to open a door. Although, today I needed the help. The narrow fit of my skirt made it almost impossible to climb gracefully in and out of a car, even with help.
The drive through the city was an exercise in elegant efficiency. Before I'd met Dominic, driving around in a car had just been that…driving around in a car. I had driven myself from Iowa to New York, but the first thing I'd done once I’d gotten here was sell my car.
Driving in New York was for taxi drivers and the people who could afford to actually park their cars. Also for the crazy people who don’t mind the insane driving and the odd rules that only seem to apply in the city.
I didn’t fit into any of those categories.
I smiled as I stared out the window watching a trio of girls, all of them tall and skinny, all of them bedecked in black and walking on heels taller than anything I could possibly imagine myself walking in. They were laughing and talking as they walked along the street.
“What are you looking at? You’re smiling.” Dominick’s voice drew my attention toward him.
“Just the city.” I shrugged and went back to watching. “You’ve grown up here. Lived here all of your life. Unless you were traveling or…” Memory hit me though and I stopped, my throat locking up at me.
He reached out and took my hand, threading his fingers between mine. “Don’t. I don’t want you freaking out over that. I just want to put it behind me. But I don’t want it to be a wall between us, Aleena. Ever.”
“Can you put it behind you?” I asked.
“Up until recently, I
thought I had.” He shrugged restlessly. “But I’ve just been fooling myself. I lie to myself and I find ways to cope, but that’s not putting it behind me.”
I scooted closer to him, which wasn't easy in my tight outfit. I curled up against him and rested my hand just above his heart.
“Maybe you’re not supposed to put it behind you,” I said gently. “Maybe what you’re supposed to do is learn to live with it. Accept it. I’m not sure it’s the same thing.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Have you...” I hesitated, but then forced myself to forge ahead. If we trusted each other, loved each other, we had to be able to talk about things, no matter how hard they were. “Have you talked to anybody about this? Counselors? Therapy?”
His laugh was bitter and ugly. “My mother had me in therapy until I thought I might kill myself just to stop it. It didn’t help.”
“What about survivors groups?”
He stiffened. “No.” He shook his head and pulled our interlocked hands up so that he could press his lips against the back of my hand. “Look, I’m fine. I’m dealing.” Then he laughed, better than before, but still not happy. “Listen to me. I’m lying. I know I am.”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Dominic,” I said. “But you’ve already said that you know you haven’t put it behind you and that all you’re doing is getting by. You deserve better than that. If there is a better way, you should try to find it.”
Olympus was beyond anything I had ever imagined. I could definitely understand where they'd gotten the name. Home of the gods, indeed. If there had been a real Olympus, I figured they would have worn togas or whatever the garment of the day had been. Here it was suits and elegant gowns mingling with jeans and t-shirts.
And then there was the leather.
I had assumed I would see leather. Actually, I'd expected to see a lot more leather but when I did see it, it was enough to make the butterflies in my stomach take flight. It wasn’t worn in the form of clothing, for the most part. It was more of an…accessory?
Like dog collars. And for the most part, that would be all the person was wearing. I suppressed the urge to put my hand to my neck. Dominic had given me a collar. Black velvet with little silver hoops that he used to attach various things. He'd explained to me the significance of asking me to wear it, that in the bdsm world, it would mean ownership. I'd been nervous that he'd ask me to wear it tonight, but he hadn't.
As we walked by a couple, my eyes lingered on the man. He was on his hands and knees, head bowed. Around his neck was a leather collar. The steel leash attached to it was being held by a strict-looking woman in a leather mini dress. When she paused to chat with a man in jeans and a t-shirt, the man on the leash leaned his head against her thigh. As I watched, she reached down and stroked his hair in an almost absent manner, as if she wasn't really even registering his presence.
The interaction sent a ripple of unease through me and I glanced up at Dominic. When we were out of earshot of the couple, I leaned towards him and spoke in a low voice. “The collar you gave me...” My stomach twisted. “I'll never do that.”
He looked down at me, his lips curving into a soft smile. “The collar means you're mine, that no one else can approach you.” He slid his hand from the small of my back to my hip, pulling me close to him. “I don't want that for us, but it makes them happy. They’ve been married for twenty years. To each their own.”
We continued on for a few minutes before a woman in a red velvet corset and a long skinny black skirt stopped us. She leaned forward to kiss Dominic and he casually turned his head, catching the kiss on his cheek. His hand flexed on my hip, then slid around so that his fingers rested on my belly and I was tucked under his arm in a clearly possessive gesture.
“Natalie.” He nodded at her and then turned his head toward me. “Aleena, this is an old friend of mine. Natalie, this is Aleena. My...girlfriend.”
A thrill went through me at the word. We hadn't discussed what labels fit what we had, but I loved that he'd chosen something rather simplistic. In this world, the word lover didn't necessarily mean love. Girlfriend, however, meant that we were something outside of the bedroom.
Natalie’s eyebrows went up. “Girlfriend?” She started to laugh, but stopped as she caught sight of the serious expression on Dominic’s face. To my surprise, she turned to me and smiled, holding out her hand. “Aleena, is it? It’s nice to meet you. Natalie Walsh.”
At the table next to us, I heard the familiar sound of a hand striking flesh and a guttural moan. A man cried out and the muffled words, “Please mistress. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to displease...”
There was a second strike.
Blood rushed to my face and I was thankful for the dim lighting as I squeezed and shook Natalie’s hand in return. “Aleena Davison.”
“Let me guess,” she said. The smile on her face was understanding. “Your first time.”
I made a face. “Is it that obvious?”
She shrugged. “I say you’re holding up rather well. You’re not gawking and whipping your head around like a tourist.”
“A tourist?”
“Dominic?” She glanced at him.
He looked at me and then shrugged. He led me over to the railing. We had come in through what it seemed to be a private entrance, going straight up to the third level. Now we were staring down onto the bottom two levels. The upper levels were circular and open, so you could view the lower level and each floor was smaller, but narrower, almost like an old coliseum would have been laid out. The lowest level seemed to be almost like the entertainment for the upper levels. There was even a stage in the very center where it appeared someone was setting up for a show.
“Tourists,” Natalie said from my other side. “They come for the shock of it, but they never stay for very long.”
My breath caught as I realized several of the couples I'd thought were dancing were actually having sex, or something like it. I jerked my head up to stare at Dominic. He was watching me, clearly waiting to see how I would react. There was a wariness on his face and I knew what I did in the next few minutes would have an impact on our relationship. It was one thing to get kinky in the bedroom. It was something else entirely to be surrounded by it.
Slowly, I shifted my attention back to the dance floor. I couldn't hide my shock...or the arousal that was beginning to work its way through the surprise.
Bodies twisted. Twined. I watched as one woman went to her knees and presented her buttocks for a flogging. I squirmed and Dominic ran his hand up my ribcage, his fingertips caressing the side of my breast. I made a small sound but didn't look away from the floor.
There was a woman perched on the railing between the dance floor and the dining area and she had two people in front of her, a woman and a man. Each one was sucking on a nipple and she looked between the two with a patented, bored expression on her face. She held a cane in her hand and I watched as she used the cane to tap the man’s cheek.
When he lifted his head, she nudged him back with the toe of one thigh-high, spike-heeled boot.
Another man took his place, wrapping his lips around the recently abandoned nipple.
“Auditioning,” Dominic said in my ear. “She does that a lot. She’s got a VIP membership and she can bring somebody up here with her, but she likes to play the new people. She won’t bring anybody to the third floor. She never does.”
The lights dimmed even more and I lost sight of the woman and the pair auditioning. I didn't try to look for them though as two people walked onto the stage.
It was a man. I squinted and realized I’d seen him earlier. The guy in jeans and t-shirt. He’d been talking to Natalie just before we'd come up to her. The woman with him wore a black silk cocktail dress and a mask.
He held rope.
Lots and lots of red rope.
As the crowd went silent, a low, melodic tune began to play. Weeping sax and rich violin, blended with the haunting strains from a
piano. A pair of stage lights focused on the pair.
“What’s going on?” I asked in a whisper.
“The show.” Dominic leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. “Watch.”
The man looked out at the audience and gave a slow smile.
And then he got to work.
I was dazed and sweating by the time it ended.
She wore a cage of ropes. I didn't have any other word for what I was seeing. The red ropes crisscrossed her body all the way down, breasts framed perfectly. Even her legs were caged, the x’ing pattern of the ropes continuing until she was immobilized, only her head, hands and feet left unbound. Her skin glistened with sweat and she stared with intense focus at the man as he bent down and kissed her gently.
“It’s called shibari,” Dominic said, his voice husky in my ear.
I jumped and then swallowed. I'd almost forgotten he was there. Now, I could feel his hand burning through the thin material of my shirt.
“Does that interest you?”
“Um…” I glanced at his face and saw he was smiling. Even in the dim light, I could see his eyes practically glow. “Yeah. It’s well…” I struggled to find the right word. “Beautiful.”
Hot.
I looked back at the stage just as the man picked up his partner and carried her off the stage, still bound.
“It was…” Words escaped me.
“Erotic.”
No word had ever seemed more apt. “Yes.”
When he took my hand, I let him lead me away. My legs were shaky, as if I'd been teased to the brink of something. I understood, to some extent, the bliss I’d seen on the woman’s face although I realized some of what I was feeling was envy. I didn't quite understand it, but I wanted to.
Cool air brushed over me and I looked up, realized we were in a new room and we were alone.
My eyes shot to the bed, to the pole in the middle of the room, then the various instruments and devices left out for display. “Where are we?”
