Under His Touch

by Jeffe Kennedy

  And more desperately aroused than she’d ever been in her life.

  “Would you like some?”

  She stared at him, the words making no sense, and he smiled indulgently and stroked her cheek. Shuddering, she pressed into his palm, needing the contact.

  “My poor little girl,” he crooned. “You’re quite desperate to come, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She infused the two inadequate words with as much feeling as she could manage, knowing full well she only handed him more power over her, if that were possible.

  “Knowing, however, that I shall not let you, would you like a sip of champagne?”

  Miserable, she nodded and he held the delicate flute to her bottom lip, the icy bubbles bright in her mouth. Following the cool glass, his mouth followed, kissing her gently, with loving care, all the while careful not to touch any other part of her. “We’re nearly there,” he murmured. “Shall I make you walk naked into the building? Perhaps offer you to the night doorman, as a tip?”

  She had to close her eyes against the image, knowing in the rational part of her mind that he wouldn’t do that and he planted the suggestion only to further the mind-fuck, and yet that open, receptive part of her answered, “Yes, Sir.”

  He laughed, dark and warm. “I should, if only because you think I wouldn’t.”

  A tug on her wrists and he unhooked her from the grab handle—something she’d never look at the same way again—and, slipping the hook out of the repeated layers of his tie binding her tight, he tucked it into his pocket, as another man might stow a pen for later use. “You may sit up and close your legs. Might as well slip the shreds of your knickers off, lest you drop them on the pavement and shock some decent citizen.”

  Knowing the polite suggestion to be an order—another insidious part of his game, tricking her into unknowing disobedience—she used her bound hands to wriggle the destroyed lace over her hips and down, snagging the soaked fabric on her heels. It wasn’t easy to do, but then he clearly liked that, watching her struggle. Pity about them indeed, but she supposed her investment had been worth it. She wadded them up in her hands.

  “I’ll take those.” He held out an imperious hand, raising that eyebrow in his annoying way when she hesitated. Hell, she had no reason to be embarrassed. They both knew how aroused she was, how wet. As much as he was, if the insistent bulge of his cock against the perfectly tailored trousers gave any indication. That and the nearly feral glint in his eyes despite his coolly composed expression. A couple of times she’d thought he’d been about to leap on her and fuck her right there in the restaurant.

  And she would have let him, too.

  No, just another dare, a way to open her up and leave her with no secrets from him. Already it seemed as if he possessed an uncanny knowledge about what she was thinking. Relentlessly, he pushed for more. Holding her head high, pretending he couldn’t see right through her, she deposited the ball of shredded lace in his hands. With a quirk of a smile, he made a show of unfolding and fingering them, suggestively stroking the soaked gusset as he hadn’t touched her, watching her press her naked thighs together.

  The car came to a halt and her heart thudded into panic. Here she sat, wearing only fuck-me heels and an underwire bra that covered nothing and instead lifted her naked breasts almost obscenely, her hands bound with a man’s silk tie. He wouldn’t really order her to get out naked, would he? She’d use the safeword. Probably.

  Yes, definitely.

  He watched her closely, folding the ruined panties and tucking them in the kerchief pocket of his jacket, waiting to see what she’d do. What if the driver opened the door? But he wouldn’t—hadn’t all evening. Alec smiled, just a little, and picked up his topcoat, wrapping it around her shoulders and buttoning it up. If anything, wrapped naked and still bound under the smooth silk rocked her that much more. “Can’t have you getting a chill,” he murmured.

  Then he picked up her dress, smoothed it over his arm so it draped like a discarded jacket, and opened the car door. Standing outside he curled a finger at her to beckon her out and she scooted over the seat carefully, making sure not to dislodge the too-big coat. He took her arm through the fabric to help her, then put an arm casually around her to hold it all in place and keep the empty arms from flapping.

  “Good evening, Jorges,” he greeted the doorman, who smiled genially and seemed to have no idea of the game Alec was playing. They entered the elevator and, as soon as the doors closed, he turned and pulled her into his arms for a long, dreamy kiss, his hand sliding inside the coat and stroking over the outside line of her thigh, over her hip, to settle in the small of her back and press her hard against him. Her nipples chafed even against the smooth silk of the lining, no doubt because they’d been unrelentingly hard for hours, and the pressure against her swollen breasts made her nearly frantic. With her hands trapped between them, she struggled to urge him on for more, but he ignored her squirming, his hand winding in her hair to hold her still while he kept the kiss tortuously languid.

  The elevator dinged and the doors opened onto a hall with a door at either end. “My neighbor is in town, or I would have stripped you in the elevator and made you crawl to my door, so I could watch. Perhaps some other night.”

  He loved to do that, speak casually of what he might put her through, in the same tone as mentioning that, on another evening, they might stop for gelato. As it was, he kept his arm inside the coat, around her naked waist as he guided her down the hallway. Someone approaching them might glimpse her nakedness beneath, but from behind she might appear to be wearing some short dress. His hand on her belied the casual teasing note in his voice, fingers stroking her skin with hungry repetition.

  Once inside, he bolted the doors and hung up her dress in the hall closet. “You won’t be needing this for some time,” he said, his voice rough, strained somehow. “Or this, if you’re sufficiently checked in.” He held up the little evening clutch and set it on the shelf. Not out of her reach, but symbolically so. He unbuttoned his coat, took it from her and stowed it, too.

  Then he took a deep breath, the line of his shoulders tight, and turned to look at her, almost reluctant—except that his gaze raked her with such ferocity she took a step back. Moving slowly, he pursued, cornering her against the wall, then shoving her bound hands over her head in an abrupt movement, hard enough to make her gasp, his grip fierce and on the verge of painful. He pressed hard against her, his suit rubbing against her skin making her very aware that he remained clothed while she was naked, totally in his power. A surge of hot moisture pulsed between her legs. If she hadn’t been aroused already, she would have been instantly, just from this.

  He was breathing hard, lips pressed to her temple, not moving further, and it seemed he was wrestling for some sort of control.

  “Last chance to back out.” The hoarseness of his whisper gave the warning a lethal sound. What was he telling her? And why did she have the odd urge to reassure him? She paused, uncertain if she should answer within the rules or not.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking, sod it.” He gritted out the demand.

  “Are you saying you won’t respect my safewords?”

  His grip loosened, ever so slightly, not enough that she could break free, but relaxing that feral edge. “No,” he breathed the word, lips hot on her temple. “I’d never ignore your safewords. No matter how...extreme I seem. Do you want to use one now?”

  “I’m fine. You’re fine. Keep going.”

  “This is a lot for your first time. I don’t want to push you too hard.”

  “I’m not an innocent and I’m hardly a doormat. If you do something I don’t like, I’ll say so.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  He pulled back far enough to be able to see her face, searching her eyes for the truth. “Maybe we should call it for the night. I co
uld take you home.”

  She might die if he did that, but she didn’t say so. “Is something wrong?”

  “Just—” He leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. “Seeing you naked here, locked in my flat, it’s...I want to ravage you.”

  She shivered, knees weak enough that she sagged in his relentless grip. “Oh God, Alec, don’t send me home. I want that, too. I’m yours to ravage. I trust you.”

  He sighed, ragged. “I hope I’m worthy of it.”

  Backing off, he lowered her hands and, face intent, he plucked the knot free. “I need a moment. I’ll get us a nightcap. If you need to use the facilities, they’re just down the hall. Then go into the living room and sit on the couch to wait for me.”

  Grateful for the opportunity, she headed for the powder room, aware he watched her naked bottom as she went.

  “Amber,” he called out as she reached the door, sounding more in control again. “I don’t have to tell you no surreptitious frigging in private, do I?”

  Her face went hot as she’d been considering that very thing, to take the edge off. “No.”

  “No, what?” His voice had gone icy, making her perverse body leap with desire.

  “No, Sir.”

  He nodded and walked off. Finding the switch, she shut herself in, dashing for the toilet to pee. Cleaning herself after was a torture. Had she ever been so slick and swollen? It would not have taken much to make herself come, but she’d keep to the rules, at least for now. Her reflection in the big mirror over the marble vanity left her a little shocked. She looked like she’d crawled out of bed from a night of wild sex. Her lipstick smudged and mascara smeared, hair a tangled mess. And her breasts, bright pink and thrust up by the bra. She hadn’t felt self-conscious before, but she couldn’t go back out there like this.

  She knew better than to take off the bra, but she finger-combed her hair. The curls had largely fallen out, so it cascaded in a sleek mass down her back. With a tissue folded into thirds, she used the corner to clean up her eye makeup and lipstick. She couldn’t do more without her purse, but at least she looked less disheveled.

  When she adjusted the bra a little, her hand brushed the sensitized skin and the sensation made her knees buckle. If Alec touched her breasts, she’d come apart. Not that he seemed inclined to yet, unless he lost the control he clung to. Not done tormenting her, drawing things out. Working her over even as he indulged himself, kept himself leashed that way, perhaps. At some point she’d be reduced to begging him—pretty much had already—and she’d probably offer him anything. Anything at all.

  And mean it.

  Strangely hesitant to face the next phase, uncertain why, she made herself leave her sanctuary and go to the large formal living room. Glass windows filled one wall and she hesitated. He liked threatening her with exposure, probably recognizing the way the prospect both thrilled and terrified her. Moving quickly, she picked a seat on the couch with her back to the view. Just in case.

  When Alec finally entered, he carried two snifters of brandy and had doffed his suit jacket, but still wore the black vest. He’d opened the dress shirt by a few buttons and rolled up the cuffs to reveal leanly muscled forearms. His eyes remained dark with that dangerous glint and they ate her in greedy sweeps. Setting the snifters down, he sat and picked up her hands, examining the red marks where the silk had cut in when she pulled against it, stroking them with light fingers. “Does this hurt?” he asked softly.

  “No.” Though she might feel it more tomorrow. At that moment her aching breasts and vulva disturbed her more. The insistent craving to be sated.

  “Liar.” The accusation snapped out, a reprimand, and she reflexively tugged at her hands, but he held them tight. “I expect honest—and complete—answers from you.”

  “They really don’t hurt. Other things bother me more. Not in a bad way. More distracting.”

  “Is that so? Such as?” His expression sharpened, that fascinated look he got when observing her, looking into her responses.

  “My, ah, breasts. With the bra this way, they...”

  “What?”

  Another kind of exposure, this, sitting on the leather couch, telling him how his little torments made her feel. “They ache. They feel hot and tight. Almost unbearable.”

  He smiled, not a pleasant one at all, and surveyed the objects of discussion. “They are quite red. I have some ideas there. I wonder if you’ve truly come close to ‘unbearable’ yet. In the meanwhile, open that box.” He let go of her hands and nodded at the wooden box on the table.

  Maybe she should have asked for a slowdown. Still could, she reminded herself. He’d regained his composure but the raging desire beneath ran wild and bubbling, palpably intense. He’d never hurt her, but he very well might shatter her composure. Not might—would. It felt odd to be on the verge of falling apart, much as she’d wanted it.

  The sight of the black leather cuffs in the box gave her pause, made her heart run faster. Fear or desire, she didn’t know. Some amalgam of the two. She lifted one and Alec plucked it from her hand, wrapping it around her wrist and buckling it. Lined with soft velvet, it didn’t cut into her skin like the tie had, but it looked...startling. The black made a severe contrast to her skin, and loops embedded in the leather seemed so very sexual that she nearly moaned as first one, then the other tightened.

  “Ankles,” Alec ordered and she set her feet on his lap. He slid off her shoes and cuffed her ankles, then fondled them. “I’ve imagined how you’d look in something such as this since the first day I laid eyes on you.”

  Shaken, she couldn’t answer. Didn’t need to because he picked up a dish of gold trinkets. Looking at its contents more closely, she saw it held a rather dizzying collection of hooks, chains and clamps. He selected a short chain and used it to attach the ankle cuffs to each other, where it gleamed prettily against the black. Then he told her to sit on the edge of the couch and to put her hands behind her back. A clinking sound and he set the dish down beside her. He must have chosen another hook, because he quickly connected her wrists, then had her turn around and straddle him.

  Not easy, with her ankles so close together. She ended up more pitched forward on her knees with her thighs parted widely by his. He took his time adjusting her to his liking, sitting back against the couch, her bottom suspended in the air, her breasts at the level of his face. Picking up a longer chain, he felt behind her and hooked it between her wrists, then, making her arch her back, attached it to the one between her ankles. Pushing most of her hair behind her shoulders, he kept out a long strand and, with a wicked glint in his eyes, brushed it over one taut nipple.

  It might as well have been an electric shock, the way she jerked. But she couldn’t go far. Could barely move. Face intent, he did the same to her other breast, avoiding the nipple this time and dragging the ticklish hair over the surface of her skin, over the top curve and to the underside. She squirmed and he held her in place with a hand on the tight chain behind her.

  “So very sensitive,” he commented. “I can see what you mean. But unbearable? Hmm.”

  “Oh, please,” she whimpered, but he kept to his game, using the long silky edge to slide here, the more prickly ends to poke her there. All while her pussy ached, empty and ignored.

  At last he let go of the lock of hair and left it to hang between her breasts.

  She was out of breath, sweating. He was all cool control again and showing no sign of relenting, despite the pause. Instead he set a finger in the hollow of her throat, much the same as he’d touched her in the car, bringing it slowly down between her breasts.

  Far from done with this.

  “Oh God. Alec. Enough already.”

  “I don’t think so.” With devastating lightness, he touched the underside of her breast, circling inward, spiraling toward her nipple, without ever quite touching it. Hold
ing her fixed as he did it. Ignoring her pleas, which grew increasingly frantic and incoherent. Trading hands, he held the chain with one and used the other to mirror the torture on her other breast.

  The pressure built inside her, but she’d never be able to come this way. Just hover on the brink of it.

  Then he replaced his finger with his tongue and she lost her mind entirely.

  Oblivious to anything but the slow stimulation of his tongue on her tender breasts, feeling that at any moment she might begin bleeding through her pores, she dropped her head back, trying to absorb it. Sounds came out of her. Delirious moans and whimpers, but she gave up wondering when he’d stop this. Gave up thinking about needing an orgasm like water in the desert. She only rocketed with each tortuous lick, unable to resist in any way.

  When his mouth closed on her nipple and bit, she came.

  The orgasm took her like a lightning bolt. Unheralded except for the static cloud that had built so slowly and imperceptibly that she hadn’t been able to prepare. Instead it caught her in its convulsing current and she screamed, thrashing in Alec’s hands, wild and mindless. He switched to her other nipple, sucking and biting it as she bucked on his lap.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The orgasm took her so hard he was pressed to keep her from pitching off his lap. Not many women could come from only nipple stimulation, but Amber was extraordinary in so many ways. Her unconditional trust had steadied him, made him feel he might be able to maintain.

  That and the quick trip to relieve his raging hard-on. Only a few strokes of his hand and he’d spilled like an adolescent. He hadn’t planned on it, but it helped him level, cooled him enough to keep his head and make this good for her.