To Sir

by Rachell Nichole

  Juice dripped down her chin, and she lifted a shaky hand.

  “Leave it.”

  Her hand froze in midair as she swallowed the mixture of chocolate and fruit. Lowering her hand, she waited, her mind whirring. Desire raced through her, her heart thrumming double time. Sedately, she lowered her hand to once again grip the seat. She still couldn’t believe she was sitting naked in one of her dining room chairs.

  Then Chase’s hot tongue was licking along her lips, and all thought left in a rush. She tightened her muscles to keep herself upright when dizziness overwhelmed her. He nibbled his way down her chin, removing the sticky sweetness with his lips, tongue, and teeth. And the next thing she knew, he was kissing her in truth, demanding with his mouth that she open hers to him. She obeyed without a thought of protest, letting him delve deep with his tongue and tease her lips with his teeth.

  Liz delighted in the taste of strawberry still on his tongue—and hers. It mixed deliciously with the taste of Chase. When she was breathless, he pulled back. She leaned so far forward she almost toppled off the chair. A light hand on her shoulder steadied her.

  “Maybe I should have tied you to the chair,” he said, chuckling.

  She quavered. Maybe he should have. The idea sent a thrill through her, adrenaline flooding her bloodstream. Bound and blindfolded.

  He cupped her cheek in his big palm. “Damn if that look on your face doesn’t say you’d enjoy that.”

  She remained silent. It wasn’t exactly a question, and something told her she shouldn’t respond quite yet. At least not verbally. According to the research she’d done, submissives didn’t generally volunteer information, only responded when asked direct questions, and usually they ended their phrases with Sir or Master, depending on the relationship.

  “Would you like that? For me to tie your arms behind your back and secure them to the chair?”

  Saying no would be a lie, but she didn’t know if she could let him go that far yet. “Yes.” The word slipped out in a whisper before she could overthink it and back down.

  “Yes, what, Elizabeth?”

  Her abdomen tensed, her stomach dropping. He wanted her to say it. Could she? She bit her bottom lip hard. Then she lowered her head. “Yes, Sir.” She’d done it. And she hadn’t hated it. She couldn’t call him Master. Even though, after a second, when she thought about the wordplay there, a small smile curved her lips.

  But calling him Sir didn’t make her feel cheap or used or oppressed the way she’d thought it would. If anything, it seemed to fit. It was like role-playing to the nth degree. She was still her, but somehow not. It didn’t make her less or more. It just was. Pleasure skittered down her spine.

  He wound her braid around his hand and tugged down, pulling her head back, elongating her neck and making her lips open in a pant. His grip stung, and her muscles stretched almost painfully.

  “Good girl,” he whispered.

  She could picture his wolfish grin. If she was being good, why was he rewarding her with pain? As her body settled into the new position, her mind stilled, and she knew. Pain was a reward all its own. He cupped her breast, plumping it in his hand and rubbing her nipple with his thumb.

  “Well, that’s a real shame,” he said hoarsely. God, he was loving this. As her body temperature rose higher, she admitted she was too. “We don’t have any of the proper equipment to secure you to the chair.”

  She frowned. Now that she’d thought about it, the idea had thrilled her.

  “My poor little disappointed girl,” he said as she pouted. “Don’t worry. We’ll make it work. Promise.” His assurance was like an electric shock to the system. She knew he would be as good as his word.

  She took a deep breath, pulling the mixed aromas to her again. Sweet, savory, salty. The tastes mingled in her nostrils until she could almost feel them on her tongue. He released his hold on her hair, and she tipped her head back upright and licked her lips.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  “Famished, Sir.”

  “Good. Open up.”

  She obeyed, and he slipped something salty between her lips. A pretzel, she realized as it slid along her tongue. He removed his finger, and she let the pretzel sit on her tongue, her mouth still open. He hadn’t told her she could eat it yet. She waited as her body buzzed with sensations. The warm air of her house felt cool against her overheated, supersensitized skin. How long would he make her wait?

  He drizzled something sweet over the pretzel. It sizzled over her taste buds. Raspberry. Heated jam, perhaps. Or a sauce. She couldn’t be sure, but it was incredible either way. A strong finger under her chin closed her mouth. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”

  She swirled the salty-sweet combination in her mouth and chewed slowly, then swallowed. He followed up this combination with more soup, speaking only to tell her to open and close. The stillness, the silence around her added to her pleasure, letting her focus on the flavors and sensations rippling through her body. By the time he was done with the soup, her body was coiled tight. God, this was the best foreplay ever.

  After the soup came small bites of hot mashed potatoes, with garlic if she wasn’t mistaken. He alternated this saltiness with a sweet-covered meat. Pork, she thought. He was so busy feeding her she wondered if he’d eaten anything. She could feel his gaze bearing down on her, touching her in all the right places. She had a moment to feel exposed, but in the haze of her lust, the discomfort didn’t last. She kept her arms to the sides and behind her, clutching the seat of the chair and not moving, as he’d instructed. As if she really were tied down. Mentally, she was. She didn’t want to move.

  He ordered and she obeyed. With every passing minute, it became easier to see the appeal of this kind of kink. It was certainly the easiest thing she’d done in days, sitting here on display and letting him feed her.

  “Think you’ve still got room for dessert?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said eagerly.

  He chuckled. When ordered, she opened her mouth and waited. A minute later, hot, moist chocolate poured over her tongue, and she closed her mouth over the spoon and a small piece of cake. A hint of strawberry mixed with the chocolate. “Oh, my God,” she said as the taste coated her tongue. She was so out-of-her-mind turned on, full of amazing food, and now chocolate molten lava cake pooled in her mouth. A spark of panic flared and was quickly snuffed out, spiking her pulse higher. Right now, she would do anything he told her to, like a puppet on strings controlled by his expert hands.

  All she could do was pray he wouldn’t push her too far.

  CHASE BEAMED DOWN at her. Liz’s body glistened in the candlelight. Sweat coated her skin as she strained, her muscles tight, her body quivering, bliss etched on her face. “Swallow,” he said, cupping the side of her neck so he could feel her muscles work. He grazed his thumb down the line of her throat, delighting in the way she held still under his touch. Her face betrayed no real fear, but he could feel her pulse pounding beneath his palm.

  Desire? Fear? Anticipation? He hoped it was maybe a bit of all three. His own blood pounded hotly through his veins, his head clear, his entire focus on this naked woman and her pleasure. She’d called him Sir. He’d demanded it of her. Tenderly, but it was still a command. And she’d done it. He hadn’t realized how much that mattered to him until an invisible vise had released his heart from its grip as soon as the word had passed through her strawberry-colored lips. She’d accepted his dominance in every way, surpassing his expectations of their scene. And she’d been so damned eager. The look on her face when he’d mentioned tying her to the chair had turned him on more than anything else tonight.

  He’d taken small bites of the food as he’d fed it to her. Sometimes from the spoon before it passed her lips, sometimes after. His favorite, though, had been tasting it directly from her incredible mouth. While he’d made her wait between bites, heightening her awareness, lengthening the tension for both of them, he’d slowly begun stripping, freeing his body from the strict confines of his c
lothes. Once naked, he’d put on a condom. He fed her a few more bites of liquid chocolate and strawberries, until she was leaning so far forward on the chair it was only her death grip on the seat that kept her from spilling onto the floor.

  Her nipples were hard peaks, her body flushed with desire. The scent of her arousal mixed with the aromas of food around them. He’d painstakingly found every ingredient at the store, then returned and took his time preparing the meal for her, laying out the tasty appetizers with care and letting her get several hours of sleep. It was almost midnight when he woke her. Now it was past one, and he could not wait another second.

  He grabbed her braid again. “Let go,” he commanded. Her fingers gradually unfurled from the chair, and he used one hand on hers and one in her hair to pull her from the chair and guide her to the floor. She was pliant in his arms, as far gone to the scene, to the power exchange and the desire as he was. He laid her down delicately in the doorway between the kitchen and dining rooms so her head rested on the plush carpet, but the rest of her lay on the hardwood.

  “Oh,” she exclaimed, goose bumps skittering across her skin.

  “Cold?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  He bent over her. “Don’t worry. You won’t be for long,” he promised darkly. At the whispered threat, her body tensed, her back arching off the floor.

  He slipped his forearm under her knee and lifted her leg toward her chest, groaning when she stretched, her knee almost close enough to her breast to touch her nipple.

  “Christ, I didn’t expect you to move that far.”

  “Three years of biweekly Pilates classes does the body good,” she said with a smile.

  He chuckled. “Clearly.” He leaned his body into hers, putting a little pressure on her leg, and shifted, letting her ankle rest over his shoulder.

  She moaned.

  “Too much?” He’d already pushed her so far mentally, and she’d taken it all, letting him have complete control. His sheathed cock throbbed painfully. He was pushing physically now, and he wasn’t sure how much farther they could go. As she shook her head, he realized she was going to take that too. Oh, God. She might kill him.

  He settled his body over hers, and she cried out. He lifted a hand to slip the blindfold off, wanting to see her whole face when she spiraled out of control.

  She blinked and stared up at him in a lust-filled haze. “I’m going to fuck you now,” he said hoarsely as she focused on him.

  “Yes, please, Sir.”

  He positioned himself at her entrance and slammed home. She made a strangled sound, thrashing beneath him and ratcheting up his hunger another tick. He levered himself up on one hand, staring down at her wild eyes as she adjusted to him. Her hands were flung with abandon over her head, her back arched, lifting her breasts. They swayed with her every breath, and he reared back and thrust forward again.

  She screamed, her heel digging into his shoulder. Biting her lip, she swirled her hips and fused their bodies closer together until his groin rubbed against her front. Her soft hair tickled him, and he moaned. “Let me hear you, baby. Come on, let it out.”

  He pulled himself back and thrust in again and again.

  “Oh, God. More. Please. More!” she demanded, not holding back. He’d told her to let him have it, and she did. Her head rolled from side to side, her body writhing beneath his as he continued to pound into her. She keened, gasping, flailing, chanting his name, begging him for more, her voice hoarse. He reached for her hair, tugging hard and forcing her head back. He licked and bit his way along her neck as he drove into her, thrusting up and in and then down and out, rubbing himself along the tops of her curls and hitting that sweet spot, inside and out.

  He bit down hard on her collarbone, and she exploded around him, screaming until she ran out of breath. Her other leg lifted, wrapping around his lower back and holding him tight. Her hips rose to meet each of his last thrusts until he arched, throwing his head back and shouting as the orgasm finally claimed him.

  He collapsed on top of her, releasing her hair, and she slowly lowered her shaking legs to the floor. His lungs burned; his body was exhausted and spent, probably crushing her beneath him. But she didn’t complain. Other than her gasping breaths, she didn’t move either. He lifted his head to gaze down at her.

  “How ya doing?” He’d asked her that periodically through their night, and she’d always given him a small smile and said, “Fine, Sir.”

  Now she grinned. “Amazing.”

  Her eyes were clearing. He cupped her face and kissed her deeply. “Only amazing?” he asked.

  “Mmm-hmmm,” she said, licking her lips. She placed her hands gently on his chest and pushed.

  “Well, I guess that’s the end of that,” he said, unable to hide his disappointment. He was satisfied, totally sated, but he couldn’t help wanting to keep the scene going a bit longer.

  She rolled her eyes as he levered off her and gained his knees, then his feet. He reached down and helped her stand. She’d just flipped completely out of subspace. The little minx.

  He tapped her ass as she surveyed the kitchen.

  “You certainly know how to make a mess as good as you know how to clean one up,” she teased.

  “Leave it for tomorrow,” he said. She glanced at him over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “Hey, give a guy a minute here. Just ’cause you’ve put your head on straight and reestablished boundaries with a flip of a mental switch doesn’t mean the rest of us are there yet.”

  She faltered and turned toward him, her face suddenly unsure. Shit. That was supposed to sound teasing, not make her doubtful. She padded toward him on silent feet and wrapped her arms around his waist. Resting her head on his chest, she sighed. “Sorry. You do realize that was absolutely amazing, mind-blowing sex, right? And I’m not trying to diminish it in any way. Am I not supposed to come out of, er, character so quickly?”

  Character? He supposed that was one way to think of subspace, or Domspace. Being something more than you were in your everyday life. “There’s really not any supposed to where this is concerned. I’ve never experienced someone doing it so quickly.”

  “Oh.” She shrugged, her soft skin rubbing against his. “I compartmentalize like it’s my job. Try not to take it personally.”

  He grinned, kissing the top of her head. He twined fingers in her braid, tugging the tie free and loosening her hair. She moaned and rubbed her cheek against him.

  “Maintenance check?” he asked.

  “Good. Green lights all the way, baby.” She smiled up at him, and he could see the truth in her eyes.

  “So the blindfold…”

  “Was intimidating at first. But it helped flip the switch in the other direction, I think. Making me rely on you to walk, sit, eat.”

  “That’s exactly what it was meant to do. Would you really have let me tie you to the chair?”

  “Probably. Not sure I could have stayed tied up that long, though. What would you have used?”

  “We wouldn’t have played so long if you were really bound. And those leather cuffs you seemed fond of that day in my playroom. I would’ve taken the leather tie connecting them and wound it through the rungs of the chair.”

  Heat flared in her eyes. “Yeah, that woulda been…interesting.”

  “Fun?”

  “Perhaps.”

  He cupped her ass, holding her tightly to him. “You called me Sir.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get too used to it.”

  He swatted her butt. “Brat.”

  She stuck out her tongue, then used it to swipe a circle around his nipple. He groaned. Yeah, she was a brat, all right. And there wasn’t a damned thing wrong with that.

  “I knew it was what you wanted. I figured I’d see if I could do it.”

  “And?”

  “Well, I did it, didn’t I?” she said coyly. Then she nibbled her way along his jaw. An image of him lying prone, spread-eagle on the bed while she tortured him with those teeth, flas
hed through his mind. Holy hell. His cock twitched, threatening to come back to life for another round already. Could he switch for her, let her top him in the bedroom?

  “And how did it feel?” he pressed. Getting a straight answer out of her was going to be like wringing out that last bit of pleasure when she was already riding the endorphin wave. Difficult but not impossible. And totally worth it.

  She huffed. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

  He glared but didn’t comment.

  She took a deep breath, stared him straight in the eye. When she made up her mind to confront something, she sure did it head-on. She didn’t flinch from his gaze as she said, “Comfortable. Right. Pleasing.”

  He dipped his head and kissed the tip of her nose. “Good. Let’s get some sleep.”

  She nodded, and he let her lead him down the hall into her bedroom. Without waiting to be asked, he snuggled up behind her in the bed, possessively curling his hands around her, one on her breast, one tunneled in her thick hair.

  “This might be too much.”

  He sighed. “Should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.”

  She chuckled. “I don’t usually sleep cuddle.”

  So it wasn’t his possessive touch she was balking at, but rather the cuddling? He could work with that.

  He moved his body back from hers and released his hold, then shifted forward to lie more on his belly than his side. When he cocked one leg up, she glanced at him over her shoulder. In the dimness of the room, she turned over to face him. She inched her body a bit closer but left a few inches of space between them. He snaked out one hand and slung it over her hip.

  “How’s this?” he asked.

  “Better,” she said, snuggling into his touch, bringing up her knees until they brushed his leg.

  Yeah, this would do just fine. Day one of negotiations was complete, and he figured so far, so good. They’d both survived intact.

  “Go to sleep, little sub-in-training.”

  “Shut up, overbearing, domineering Sir.”

  Chapter Thirteen