Cuff Me: A BDSM Romance

by Cate Bellerose

  He takes a step back, looking me over with such intensity that I'm sure my blush could set off Geiger counters. “Fuck, you're so beautiful.” Then he's back and unzipping my skirt. It falls to my ankles in a shimmering pool of green, purple and black. I step out of it, left in only my panties and shoes.

  He's really only wearing pants—with a large bulge in them, I might add—so it's not like he's much more dressed than I am, but I still feel exposed and can't keep my arms from crossing in front of my breasts.

  “No, no, no.” Paul pushes them away immediately. “You should never cover up in front of me. It's a crime to hide that kind of beauty.” There's a glint in his eyes when he lifts his gaze from my breasts to my face. “Trust me, I'm a police officer. I know what I'm talking about.”

  I laugh, and bat at his arm. He catches my wrist effortlessly and twists it behind me as he steps close. Even as I raise my other hand, he traps that as well and brings it down so my wrists are crossed at the small of my back and my breasts are shoved right up against his powerful chest. The sensation of his coarse chest hair brushing my tight nipples sends tingles rushing straight to between my legs.

  Bending down, he whispers harshly in my ear, “What's this? Assaulting an officer? You're more trouble than I expected, little one.”

  I melt against him, but he turns me and walks us to the St. Andrews Cross mounted on the wall. Open leather cuffs on chains wait patiently for me.

  “I suppose I'll have to make sure you can't cause any more trouble while I continue your punishment.” The last word comes out as a sexy hiss.

  Making a show of struggling against him as he drags me over, I learn exactly how much stronger he is. I don't have a chance. Before I know it, my wrists are encircled by tight leather and there's nothing I can do to keep him from doing the same to my ankles. He’s turned me to face the wall, so I can’t even see what he’s doing.

  For now, the chains give me a little room to move, but it doesn't last long. “Step up here, and spread your legs.” When I don't move quickly enough, he does it for me, positioning me easily and then using his feet to gently kick mine apart.

  “You—you’re not going to do a cavity search, are you?” Oh God, I can't believe I said that.

  He laughs. “Maybe I will. You must be hiding something if you're so worried about it. It's a good thing I've always got my probing equipment with me.” Oh God, now I can't believe he said that. We deserve each other.

  Tracing my lips with my tongue, I build the courage to continue the play, “Please don't hurt me, officer. I'll do anything you want.”

  He laughs. “You'll do anything I want either way.” Pressing buttons hidden behind the X-frame, he makes the chains to my cuffs retract with soft whirs. From having a little mobility, I'm now stretched out and completely trapped. “Don't worry. There are quick-release latches. You know, in case you're worried about safety.”

  Right now, the only thing on my mind is what he's going to do to me. Having my hands and feet secured doesn’t seem to cause the same reaction as my head, and I’m sure he did that on purpose. “Sir, I trust you to do the right thing.” Double meaning. Maybe even triple.

  He moves in close, pressing a kiss to my right shoulder. “And I trust you to let me know if I don't.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I exhale.

  Then his hands are on me, exploring me, making him familiar with every curve of my body, and there's no way I'm making him stop doing that.

  I let out a soft moan to let him know it's appreciated.

  Paul kisses my left shoulder, his stubble rough against my soft skin, as his one hand slides up my stomach until he cups me, trapping my nipple between his thumb and index finger. He gives it a squeeze that makes me suck in a sharp breath. Even if I hadn't been wet already, I would be now. “You've been naughty.”

  It takes me a moment of relishing the sexy wave of pleasure and pain that radiates from my nipple before I open my eyes. He's grinning down at me, and I'm not sure what to say. “I have?”

  “Oh yes.” Before I can ask further, my ass lights up in a flare of pain as his hand connects with it. Can you scream and moan at the same time? Because I'm pretty sure I do. His fingers are still clutching my nipple, and when I jerk, the pull sends a second spike of pure sensation through me.

  After he gave me a taste of this that first night, I've dreamed about what it would be like so many times. Now that I'm getting it, it's so much more than I ever imagined. The shiver of anticipation, the uncertainty of what's coming next, the adrenaline rush of being completely at his mercy—they all combine into a sexy combination that's impossible to resist.

  His hand connects again, hard and flat against the other cheek, setting it on fire.

  There’s no going back after this. He’d better have meant what he said, because I'm not letting him go either.

  But he takes a step back. I whimper, wriggling my backside as much as I can in this position. “Master—”

  There’s a swish and leathery tendrils strike my ass with a heavy thwack. The flogger. God, it stings in a completely different way from his hand, but in a good way. I moan deeply.

  He has no intention of stopping. Strike after solid strike connects with my backside as he punishes me. I don't even know what for, and it doesn't matter, because what we have is that connection, the power play. He does what he wants with me, and I let him, and it's such a rush and a release.

  By the time he straightens and backs off, I'm shivering in my bonds, the wrist cuffs carrying my weight as I slump into them. Fiery tendrils radiate from my ass into every inch of my body, pooling into my core and making my fingers and toes tingle. My breath comes in jerky gasps, but even still, I'm wiggling my ass at him, inviting him to continue.

  He doesn't. Instead, there’s a clatter as he drops the whip on the floor, and then embraces me from behind. He's still got his pants on, but they can't hide the massive bulge pressing into my ass. His hands cup my breasts, feeling their weight while he kisses my neck tenderly. “Fuck, you took that beautifully. Are you all right, little one?”

  Licking my lips, I nod quickly. I’m so much more than all right. As his hands roam, caressing me while he kisses, I press against him all that I can, given my predicament. “You can—” I gasp when he pinches a nipple. “You can do that to me all you want.”

  He growls into my ear. “Good, because I intend to. But I think that’s enough for your first time.” His fingers flick my nipples, making it hard to concentrate. “Are you mine?” The insistence and raw desire in his question flows through me like molten metal.

  “Yes,” I hiss in need.

  “To do with as I want?”

  “Yes.” This time I hiss louder, impatient to move on to whatever he's got in mind for me next.

  “Good.” His fingers hook in the elastic of my panties. “Then I'm going to take what's mine.”

  I close my eyes as my last bit of modesty is slid as far down my thighs as they'll go with me spread eagle against the cross. It's going to happen. I've dreamed of it for so long, but it's going to happen.

  He's finally going to fuck me.

  “I'll buy you another pair.” My eyes open wide when I realize what he's going to do. With hardly a strain on his powerful muscles, Paul tears my panties apart and throws them aside. Immediately, his hand is between my legs, his calloused fingers sliding through my slippery folds. I moan as he slips one of them deep into me.

  “Paul.” Whispering his name through clenched teeth, I throw my head back. His skilled touch rocks the length of his finger in and out of me while his palm slides along my clit. Thrusting my hips into his grip, I sigh in pleasure. “Please.”

  “Oh, naughty, naughty.” His low voice reverberates so deeply within me that I get goosebumps. “I'm the one in charge here. But that's all right.” He nibbles the back of my neck. “I like it when you beg.”

  “Please. Make me yours.” I press my ass towards him, capturing more of his finger inside me. “Now.”

 
; His finger slips out, and I groan at the loss. A crack echoes through the room and tendrils of pain race from my already throbbing backside across my skin. Paul laughs at my yelp as his hand comes back to my ass, softly stroking where his palm just impacted. “You're in no place to make demands, little prisoner.”

  “Yes, sir.” I barely have time to relax before his hand smacks firmly back into my ass and I cry out. “What was that for?”

  “Because I felt like it.”

  “Paul!”

  Another smack, even harder. Even as I cry out again, he's behind me, his cock pressing into me. I never even heard him unzip. By the time all that's left of my cry is a quiet moan, he's fully in, his thickness filling me. Strapped up against the cross, there isn't much I can do except thrust my ass out at him, but he works hard enough for the two of us.

  Wrapping his powerful hands around my waist, he thrusts, over and over. Each time he fills me, my breath rushes out, leaving me gasping. The sound of his hips connecting with my ass echoes in the little room.

  Sliding his hands up, Paul grips my breasts as he pounds into me. His breath is in my ear, strained and husky as he fucks me hard against the cross. He pinches my nipples, and I throw my head back, pressing it into the crook of his neck and gasping sharply.

  “Fuck, why didn't we do this before?” With him sliding in and out of me like a hot, throbbing piston, I can only moan my agreement. “I've been an idiot,” he growls. “But you're not getting away from me now. Every day.” He moans into my ear. “Every. Fucking. Day.”

  Those words are what finally has me coming apart around him, shaking in his hands as every muscle in my body tightens. It's a good thing these rooms are soundproof, because I scream out my love for him as I explode and everything turns white.

  He never lets up, never lets go, riding me through my orgasm, driving it on, making it last what seems like forever, and just as it finally winds down, he stabs deeply one last time and groans as he fills me. The sensation almost sets me off again, but I don't have the energy left. When he finally slips out, I slump in my bonds, limp as a rag.

  But only for a moment, because Paul's there, unclipping my ankle cuffs before doing my wrists. He catches me in his arms, picking me up as I sag against him. I lazily run my fingers across his powerful biceps while he carries me to the couch in his muscular arms. He sits, taking me with him, and holds me close, curled up in his lap like a kitten.

  I rest my head against his broad chest and let him envelop me. The warmth in the room is nothing like the heat he fills me with, just keeping me in his arms.

  He nuzzles into my hair, kissing the top of my head. “So how are we going to do this?”

  Talk? I need to talk now? I snuggle closer to him, burrowing into his chest. “How do you mean?”

  His fingers trace up and down my arms, trailing goosebumps behind them. “At the office. At home. Here.” He sighs softly. “I haven't done this in a while.”

  I smile. We're talking how, not why. That's a pretty big step for a guy who wouldn't give me the time of day not so very long ago. “I'm sure there's not a soul at work who doesn't know how I feel about you at this point.”

  With a nod, he strokes my head gently. “I suppose it's up to me, then.”

  Suddenly tightening his fingers and capturing my hair, he tugs down, not painfully, but firmly. I yield, allowing him to make me look up at him. His bright blue eyes shine down on me, the dark pupils ringed with icy fire. The intensity takes my breath away, but I meet his gaze squarely with my own.

  His lips curl into a loving smile. “Okay.” He nods. “If you can do it, I can too. But you know I can't show favoritism.”

  I nod, unable to believe this is happening. Paul, willing to admit to a work romance? Hell has officially iced over.

  “And there may be changes. I know you’re working with Johnson now, but one or both of us might still get transferred.” He grimaces at the thought.

  “Will you be all mine the rest of the time?” I wet my lips with my tongue.

  He leans closer. “I'll be all yours all of the time. Even when I’m not with you.”

  When he touches his lips to mine, it starts off softly, almost sweetly. A little nibble, a fluttering of tongues, and I respond eagerly. It's not long before we're pressing against each other, his fist tightly wrapped in my hair.

  Enough talk. I was cozy and warm in his arms, but that warmth is quickly turning into another kind of heat, and from the way I feel him rising to the occasion below my ass, it's obvious the feeling's mutual.

  “Of course,” he starts, trailing off and giving me a look. “We don't have to be at work until tomorrow.”

  I nod, a smile spreading on my face as I'm imagining all sorts of naughty directions this could be going. “That's a lot of hours.”

  “It is. And we're going to use them well.” And with that he stands, lifting me with him and carries me towards a leather bench in the middle of the room with all sorts of cuffs and attachment points and contractions designed to put me into some very vulnerable positions.

  I grin up at him as he lowers me onto it. “I can't wait.”

  23

  Emily

  —Six months later—

  Our world didn't explode. Work didn't catch on fire. Somehow, coming out as a couple was almost disappointing. Kent shrugged like it was old news, Ramirez nodded with a smile, “About time he came around,” and even Captain Fowler let it pass with a brief comment about no fucking around during work hours.

  We even adhered to that, mostly. Other than that time I slipped under Paul's desk on his birthday and gave him a sample of what his present was going to be like as soon as we could get our asses home. Sure, he'd protested, but I'd made sure the office was empty and his door locked. Of course, as soon as his cock was in my mouth, he stopped complaining really quickly, and it was smooth sailing from then on.

  Though he still threatened to reprimand me for inappropriate work behavior afterwards. At the time he didn't mention that my punishment involved a certain flogger and a spanking bench, but I can't say I complained too much.

  We've become regulars at the club too. Well, Paul already was, but now we're regulars as a couple. There's no longer any need to call for volunteers for his safety sessions now that he's got me, much to the disappointment of many attendees, I'm sure.

  I even trust him to put things around my neck, though that took some time, and a couple of sessions with the counselor at work. Paul was right about that. Funny how my worst day at work was also my best, because it’s the day I was introduced to this lifestyle, and that's pretty great.

  “What do you think, Em?”

  I'm snapped out of my reminiscing by Gabe's question. We're at the bar, the dance floor spread out below us, teeming with guests dancing in a flurry of leather, lace and bare skin. Deep bass thumps rattle the club, making me hold onto my glass of wine as if it's going to get shaken right off the table. Just another Friday night at a BDSM club.

  “Think about what? I'm sorry, I zoned out for a minute.” I smile apologetically across the table at him. Paul, sitting next to me on the black leather couch with his arm around my back and his hand resting on my hip, gives me a squeeze.

  Caleb, easing his huge bulk back in his chair next to Gabe, smirks at me. “Paul, you need to keep your woman in line. She's not hanging on our every word, like we deserve.”

  Viv, his tall, red-headed fiancée drops into his lap, rolling her eyes and laughing. Her thin, metal collar reflects silver from the downlights over the table. “Give me a break, Caleb. I'm letting you get too big for your britches.”

  “Hey!” He gives her a look of mock indignation, even as he wraps his huge arms around her and pulls her close. “Who's the boss in this relationship anyway?”

  She never loses her smile, and her response is heavy with sarcasm, dunked in saccharine. “I'm sorry, Master. This slave asks Master to give her a break, because he’s getting too big for his britches.”

  “Put yo
ur drink on the table.” Caleb's voice is steely, full of authority even if his face is still smiling. I squirm into Paul at the sound of it, and he in turn tightens his grip on me. I might just drag him to the play area in a minute.

  Surprisingly fast, Viv obeys. Caleb quickly flips her over his lap and tugs up her dress, showing us and anyone else who happens to be at the bar her silky black panties. Two massive smacks later, he tugs it back down and flips her back up to be sitting in his lap as if she doesn't weigh a thing. She snuggles into him, and I'm pretty sure both of them won that argument, if you could call it that.

  Paul gives me a nudge and a kiss on top of the head. “So, before I take you to the playroom and show you what I think of you not paying attention to us, Gabe and Caleb are thinking of getting a counselor on staff.”

  I give him a quizzical look. “What, like a shrink?”

  Gabe shrugs. “Sort of, but more someone professional to talk to. Some of the stuff that happens here can get pretty intense, and sometimes it's a bit much, or not what you thought, or a billion other reasons why you might want someone to listen to you for a while, to give you support and maybe even some advice. Finding someone like that who also understands the lifestyle and the BDSM scene is even harder.”

  I nod while he takes a sip from his beer.

  “So, I happen to know a guy who'd be a good fit, but I wanted to get some feedback before offering him a position. He's got a lot of experience, and he's been into kink even longer than I have. But just because I have an idea I think is awesome, doesn’t necessarily make it an awesome idea. So what do you think, as someone new to the lifestyle?” He leans forward to look at me.

  I make a point of giving it some thought, but my gut feeling is that it would be a good idea. “Yeah. I think that could be valuable. Someone who's confidential, but understanding and helpful.” I touch my neck, thinking about when I freaked out. My work counselor was good, but I was too shy to tell her about the BDSM aspect of it. Some people get really judgmental. “You should do it.”