Darkest Fire

by Tawny Taylor

  He grabbed a bottle of lube, dampened his fingers, and spread the slick jelly across her clit. He checked her pussy. The glitter of her juices told him she was wet and ready for him. She needed no lube.

  He breached her in one swift thrust, his hand guiding his cock into her slit, then moving up to thumb her clit. Her tight pussy clenched him hard, and he had to remind himself with every thrust that he’d promised her the best orgasm of her life.

  With lubricated fingers, he played with her clit, matching the tempo of the strokes with the timing of his thrusts. As he worked, he struggled to hold onto his willpower, fought to stay out of his head and watch Rin for every sign of climax.

  There, he felt her pussy ripple around him, opening then clamping tighter. He jerked out of her and yanked his hand away, gritting his teeth at the agony of tearing himself from the pleasure her body had been giving him.

  She cried out, arms and legs visibly tight. Panting, she demanded, “Why?”

  Fighting to catch his breath, he cupped her cheek. “Trust me.”

  “I do.” She sucked in an audible breath. He stared at her lips, tempted to taste them. They were the color of ripe berries, and he knew they were just as sweet.

  His cock twitched and he felt a droplet of precum seep from the tip. He palmed the head, spreading the slick liquid over the ruddy skin, wishing he could finish fucking her and run away. Far away.

  She had no idea what she did to him.

  When he opened his eyes, he saw she was breathing easier. Now, he could take her to the brink of ecstasy again. This time, he’d let her orgasm, and she’d come harder than she ever had.

  A fresh sweat broke out over his face, chest, and back.

  He entered her again, this time slowly, allowing himself to relish the sensation of her body accepting his. Her slick walls tightened around him, enfolding him in warm, wet heat. That heat slowly moved up his body in slow, swelling waves, rising and falling. It was damn good.

  He made himself go slowly so he’d build her pleasure at the optimum pace. He teased her nipples with one hand, using the other to grip the bar under the bench’s seat. Her position allowed him to drive deep inside her. The tip of his cock pressed gently against her cervix at the end of each inward thrust.

  She was getting closer. Her stomach muscles tensing again, making them visible beneath the smooth skin of her abdomen. Her tits were rising and falling swiftly as her breathing grew quick and shallow. And his body was right there with hers, coiling into a tight knot of need. A few more strokes . . .

  He moved his hand back to her clit, knowing what it would do. He traced small circles over the swollen knot of nerves and shuddered as the first rush of orgasm slammed through his body.

  Rin’s pussy spasmed around him and his cum burned down his penis, escaping his body in hard spurts. They’d come together, their bodies working as one, their cries mingling, the scent of their need filling the air.

  It was like nothing he’d ever experienced.

  And he was terrified.

  He wanted more. He wanted this again tomorrow, and the next night, but even better, even deeper.

  He was like an addict on his first high. Already he wanted more. Still feeling a little less than solid after that orgasm, he carried her upstairs, to her room, set her on the bed, and held her.

  “Will you read to me? We haven’t read in a few nights.”

  “I’d be happy to.” Rin got the book and settled next to him again. “ ‘Every body in and about Highbury, who had ever visited Mr. Elton, was disposed to pay him attention on his marriage. . . . ’”

  Rin’s soft voice soothed his nerves, calmed him. He closed his eyes and let Emma’s story carry him away to another time and place, where he had no duties and he was free to just live and love and be.

  15

  The past eight hours had been the longest in Rin’s life, thanks to the package that had arrived this morning. Or more specifically, the note she’d found inside it. As she’d gone about her day, she’d anticipated tonight with many of the same emotions as she had last night. But unlike last night, the overall feeling was positive. She was excited, eagerly anticipating her second session in Drako’s dungeon.

  Before marrying Drako, she’d never imagined she’d respond to domination and submission this strongly. She had an inkling Drako had taken it easy on her, was gradually introducing her to the practices he thought she might enjoy most. She couldn’t have a more patient and more understanding man to teach her.

  She also knew, without any doubt, she couldn’t have a more generous one.

  She checked her reflection in the mirror one last time.

  The dress he’d bought for her was the most beautiful garment she’d ever seen. Hands down. Spectacular. And the fit, unbelievably perfect. It was as if the gown had been custom sewn to her measurements, which was impossible. Drako hadn’t taken any measurements. There’d been no time to order a custom gown. And yet, she’d seen signs of alterations on the inside, as she’d gathered the silk charmeuse and translucent georgette overlay, preparing to slip it over her head.

  How he’d known where to take the dress in was beyond her.

  And the color, what she’d describe as a soft champagne, was unexpectedly flattering to her skin and hair color. Not only did Drako have an excellent eye for fit but also for color and style.

  She felt, as she stepped out of her bedroom, as regal and elegant as a queen. Needing no fanfare, she paraded down to the private dungeon, where she took her position in the room’s center, kneeling, head bowed, hands resting on her knees.

  Her heart lurched when she heard him enter the room. Through her mascara-enhanced lashes, she watched him stroll across the room. She dropped her gaze to the floor just as he stopped, a few feet away.

  “Stand up. Let me see you.”

  She carefully climbed to her feet, taking care not to catch the delicate material under the heel of her shoe. The material cascaded softly down her legs, the sensation just as sensual as a caress. Without being told to, she looked him in the eye and beamed. “It’s so beautiful. Thank you.”

  His smile was genuine, and as striking as she’d ever seen it. “You’re welcome. I’m glad to see it fits well.”

  “How did you know it needed to be altered?”

  “Just a guess.”

  “A very lucky one.”

  “I see that.” He circled her, and she stood still, loving the way it felt to be the center of his attention. “I think you look too good to keep to myself. I’d like to show you off a little. What do you think about that?”

  “Show me off? Where?”

  “There’s a private club not far from here. I’d like to take you to it.”

  “A bondage club?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you do the same things to me there as you did here?”

  “Only if you want me to. If you want to just watch, that’s fine too.”

  One part of her was so happy to have the chance to go to a dungeon with Drako, to maybe learn even more about him, she wanted to jump at the chance.

  But the other part wanted to tell him thanks, but no thanks.

  She was in many ways a typical woman. She had issues with her body. Yet, at the same time, that little visit she’d paid to the bondage club had shown her that people of all shapes and sizes participated in D/s. Most of them didn’t have the full, round butt she wished she had, or the perky boobs either. Nor did most of them have the slender, shapely legs or washboard stomach she possessed, thanks to a set of favorable genes. She had no more reason to be self-conscious or ashamed of her body than they did. “Okay.”

  “I promise, no matter what happens, my focus will be one hundred percent on you.”

  He led her out of the house with a hand pressed to the small of her back. He refreshed her memory about proper dungeon etiquette as they drove the half hour or so to the dungeon, which, like the one she’d visited with Andi, was set up in a beautiful old home, in a quiet suburban neighb
orhood where the manicured lawns, stately homes, and well-dressed residents screamed old money.

  They parked in a hidden lot located around one side of the huge house and walked up to the door. He rang a bell. A man in a suit answered and, without exchanging a word with Drako, let them in.

  Inside, what had once been a foyer was now a check-in desk, manned by one young male who could only be described as classically beautiful. Once Drako checked them in, he led her beyond the desk, down a stone-tiled hallway, to a large open dungeon area.

  Like the other dungeon, this one was an open space set up with several stations dotting the landscape. Rin still didn’t know the proper names of most bondage things, but, thanks to the laptop she’d picked up earlier today and a quick perusal of some sites that manufactured and sold bondage equipment, she could now name a few. Saint Andrew’s Cross. Kneeler. Bondage table. Sex Swing.

  Unlike the other place, this one had an added, interesting element. The longest wall of the dungeon was made of glass, allowing people in the main dungeon to see—but not hear—the scenes playing out in the three smaller rooms on the other side.

  While Rin couldn’t imagine doing anything in the main dungeon, she could easily see herself in one of those rooms, her legs spread wide and Drako tormenting her with the dildo he’d packed in the black bag he carried.

  Her pussy clenched. Her face warmed. Oh, yes, that would be fun.

  Fingering her burning cheeks, she crossed her legs and squeezed them together to ease the simmering. A man walked by, a big man who moved with the grace and ease of Drako and shared that strange air of authority that seemed to seep out of his pores and permeate the air around him. The man gave Rin a long, up-and-down assessing look.

  Drako gave her the slightest nudge forward, toward the man, his response a huge surprise. What was he trying to say? Was he expecting her to go with that strange man? Just last night, he’d told her he didn’t want her looking for another dom. Had he changed his mind for some reason? After what they’d shared last night, that just didn’t make any sense. He whispered in her ear, “He likes what he sees.”

  “Who is ‘he’?” she whispered back.

  “A dom I’ve known for years. There’s no reason to be afraid. His name is Nick Sandler.” To the man, Drako said, “Nick, meet my wife, Rin.”

  Nick, who possessed the most interesting silver-gray-colored eyes and a set of charming dimples on either side of his full lips, extended a hand. “It’s good to meet you, Rin.” When she placed her hand in his, he lifted it to his mouth and ever so softly brushed his lips across her knuckles.

  She couldn’t help feeling both horribly guilty and turned on. She was married, and in the world-according-to-Rin, marriage meant commitment. Monogamy. In this strange world, it clearly didn’t.

  That said, she still wasn’t ready to embrace a swinging lifestyle. After all, she was exploring D/s to hopefully encourage her husband to do the opposite—to give up the partner swapping and stick with just her. Was her plan backfiring? Was he reconsidering the possibility of her playing with another dom?

  Oh, shit, say I didn’t make the biggest mistake of our marriage.

  She had no idea what protocol dictated in this situation. In general, she knew, as a submissive she had limited—if any—say in what she did or didn’t do in a dungeon. But Drako had assured her she wouldn’t be forced to do anything she didn’t want to. She needed to make it perfectly clear to Drako she didn’t want to play with another partner.

  Mustering all the grace she could, she gave a little nod and a shy smile. “It’s very nice meeting you, too, Nick.” Then she eased her hand out of his grasp and pointed at the rooms beyond the glass wall. “Drako, those rooms fascinate me. Do you have to reserve one ahead of time? I’m sorry if that’s a silly question. This is all very new to me.”

  Nick lifted his brows.

  Drako said, “Excuse us,” and propelled her forward, past Nick, who in her opinion had made his interest crystal clear, and around one end of the dungeon. In one corner was a door. Rin soon learned where it led.

  She also learned her husband leased one of the rooms with the glass walls. She tried not to think about the other women he might have taken in there as he ushered her inside and shut the door.

  He leaned back a little, letting the door support his weight and silently studied her. She could swear he was breathing a little faster than normal. His lips looked a little thin. Was he mad? Upset? She couldn’t imagine why he’d be angry.

  “Did I say something rude or inappropriate?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “I’m relieved to hear that.” She went to a small love seat against one wall and sat, crossing her legs. “I wasn’t sure what was going on. I kind of got the feeling you were trying to offer me to him . . . or something. Silly, huh?”

  “No, it isn’t. I thought about it.”

  “I don’t want that, Drako. I didn’t come here to do anything with other men. Only with you.”

  He jammed his fingers into his hair and dragged them toward the back of his skull. “I know.”

  “You look upset.”

  “I’m not.” He couldn’t honestly expect her to believe that. Every one of his features was pulled tight, eyes squinty and sharp, jaw clenched, neck and shoulders taut. He was like a rubber band being stretched to its breaking point.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” He pushed away from the wall, and gaining some of the control she was so used to seeing, he walked over to a storage cabinet and opened the door.

  That was quite a collection he had in there. Was all that stuff his?

  A little uneasy at seeing all those intimidating gadgets and gizmos, she strolled around the room, checking out each piece of furniture. “So, does all this stuff belong to you? Or does the club provide it?”

  “It’s mine. All of it. And everything is sanitized after every use.”

  Fingertips exploring the rounded edge of the wood bondage table’s top, she nodded. Her eyes jerked toward the wall of glass, and she realized a few people were standing on the other side of the window, in a group, watching her. “I feel a little like a carnival sideshow.”

  “You’re new.” He went to her, eased her around so she was facing her onlookers fully. “See the anticipation in their faces?”

  She couldn’t miss that if she were blind, which at the moment she wouldn’t mind being. A little breathless, she nodded.

  Drako’s hand slid around her side to warm her lower stomach. His fingers were splayed, his hand big enough to cover most of her abdomen. She couldn’t ever remember feeling more vulnerable. Or more aroused. Her lips parted a little, and she realized, as she watched a young woman on the other side of the glass moisten hers with her tongue, her lips were dry. She mirrored the woman. Drako’s hand moved higher, and Rin’s breathing sped up even more. She tried to close her eyes and shut out the woman’s face on the other side, but for some reason, she couldn’t. Her eyelids kept fluttering up.

  Drako’s friend Nick stepped up behind the woman. He placed a possessing hand on the woman’s waist and looked straight into Rin’s eyes, making her feel almost as if he was taking possession of her too somehow.

  “That sweet little submissive is getting hot watching you, Rin, feeling what you feel now and remembering her first time here. That’s why they love it when a new submissive comes to play.” He unfastened the halter neck of her gown and let the material skim over her breasts as it fell.

  Her nipples tightened instantly.

  She sucked in a little gulp of air.

  She was standing in front of a window and letting dozens of people see her tits. And ohmygod, she was almost hot enough to melt. There was no embarrassment, no shame. Not at all.

  She shuddered, not because she was cold or scared but so overcome with carnal need her whole body was pulling into a hard, tight knot.

  Drako clamped his hands around her wrists and lifted them up high and apart, so they formed a wide vee. He pr
essed her flattened hands against the cool glass and then, his fingers between hers, smooshed himself against her back, the hot, hard length of his body a stark contrast to the cool glass now chilling her chest and stomach. Her nipples were hard little points, poking at the glass. Little tremors of pleasure spread up and down her limbs, and a churning warmth circled round and round deep inside. The world’s longest second passed. Maybe two. She was about to beg him to do something, to wedge a knee between her legs so she could grind away the building ache, or pinch a nipple, or kiss her to oblivion, when he stepped back and murmured, “Don’t move.”

  Her wobbly knees just about buckled, but by some miracle, she managed to stay standing. “O-okay.” Listening to the clank of metal and crinkle of wrapping, she stared straight ahead and concentrated on taking slow, even breaths. It was a lot harder than she would have thought.

  He gathered her hair to one side and sweetly placed it over her shoulder, leaving her back exposed to the base of her spine. Something sharp, prickly dragged down her spine, and she gasped and shuddered. Her knees wobbled but didn’t give out, as much as she wanted them to.

  How long would he torment her like this?

  Pulling herself out of her head, she focused on the faces before her, on the other side of the glass she was now using as support. So many eyes, pupils dilated with carnal need. So many mouths, lips parted, some quirked into naughty half smiles that sent blood racing through her veins in sharp bursts.

  Her skin both burned and prickled with a chill, the bizarre pair of sensations making her quiver. The sharp thing disappeared, and in its place something whisper-soft stroked her shoulders, nape, spine. When it moved around one side to tickle the sensitive skin stretched over her rib cage, she wriggled and swallowed a giggle.

  “Don’t move.” His voice was soft but, impossibly, sharp as well. It was a command she wouldn’t have ignored.

  And since he was performing magic on her body, she was going to do her damnedest to do exactly what he said.

  “They can’t see all of you yet,” he said, leaning in close enough for the heat from his body to drift over her skin in a gentle caress. “Your pussy, ass. They want to.”