“Sally? Are you willing to accept my discipline?”
She released a soundless breath, barely daring to breathe, terrified he would demand she divulge even darker secrets, things she wasn’t yet ready to admit to herself.
“I…”
His fingers slipped between her folds, delving into the heat of her body, stroking her higher and higher until she splintered. The fragments of her mind dissolved in a mindless haze of pure pleasure, floating, and drifting, until they coalesced once again on a life-giving inhale. She gasped as his fingers slipped out and traced a path up her thigh, danced over her belly, and cupped the swell of her breasts.
Rough, ragged breaths pulsed in her ear. “I need you,” he confessed. “God, I need you.”
She answered with a whimper, her body recovering from his onslaught.
“Tell me,” he demanded, “tell me this isn’t a dream.”
The slow advancement of his hand ended at her lips. His thumb pressed against her lower lip and pushed past her teeth. He pressed down on her tongue, dominating her with this odd grip. She tasted the uniqueness of her flavor and rolled her eyes back at the erotic touch.
She lifted her shoulders and sought blindly for his arms, meeting instead the firmness of his grip.
“Hands over your head,” he said, pushing her arms overhead. “Don’t move,” he soothed. “Unless you want me to tie you down, bind yourself to my command, or choose my ropes. The choice is yours.”
His dominating grip lifted her wrists over her head, and she didn’t resist. He could’ve tied her hands over her head, but the power of his voice held her with more strength than any bindings.
She pressed her wrists to the sheets, an act of surrender, a vow of being owned. She didn’t release herself from his verbal binding. She couldn’t because it felt…right. And if she did…if she refused him, would she be willing to accept his discipline? She hadn’t answered him yet, and he hadn’t pushed. Never in her life had a man aroused her like this, controlled her like this, loved her like this, and Derek did it with nothing other than the force of his will.
He thrust his thumb in and out of her mouth, simulating what he’d done with his cock moments before. And she sucked. She pulled at his thumb, hollowing out her cheeks, and swirling her tongue around the tip, hungry, needy, and raw, reveling in the delicious moans she pulled from him. This was them, becoming one.
Except, she needed more.
“Fu-uck,” he said. “Your mouth…It’s a delicious torment.” He moved over her, his body bracing against hers.
With the blindfold on, her sense of sight had been taken, but all the others? They intensified. She felt him. Breathed him in. Heard every nuance in his breath, the strangled sounds of his words, and the shifting of his weight. The salty flavor of his skin overloaded her mind. She became hyper-aroused, insanely alert, all while blinded by black silk.
Desire swirled in her belly. It coiled deep and throbbed between her legs. It knotted inside, building to a fevered intensity until her muscles rippled and ignited.
“What the hell are you doing to me?” Derek’s words were spoken subthreshold, and she wondered if he’d meant for her to hear.
She arched into him, pressing her breasts against him. It took every cell in her brain to keep her hands bound overhead and not reach down to touch him.
“Derek,” she whispered. “I…I need you. Inside. Now…please.” The pleading in her voice surprised her, perhaps as much as him.
The last time they’d been in this position, he’d said she wasn’t ready to be fucked. That she hadn’t moved past the memory of her husband. But now? Right now? Thomas was the last thing on her mind. She needed the man who hovered above her. The man who had driven her to dizzying heights. The man who intended to claim her as his own.
“Please,” she begged. “Fuck me. Make me yours.”
He laughed, the complexity of the sound reverberating in the air, lancing though her, and turning her body to jelly. Her hips jerked. Not aftershocks, but pre-shocks, premonitions of pleasure yet to be delivered.
With one arm braced beside her head, Derek growled. That throaty timbre drove her crazy, and she almost lifted the binding of her hands to dig through his dark curls. Instead, she held herself captive to his commands, her body bucking beneath him. Tremors ricocheted through her as she lifted her hips, desperate to close the distance between them.
His touch, those deft fingers, swirled through her folds slow at first, dipping inside to drag along her inner walls. Then he sped up the pace, accelerating, turning into a sharp, savage pace until she bucked beneath him, mindless as she crested another peak.
Unyielding.
The intensity of his touch drove her right to the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her again, and she writhed with wild abandon, her body becoming something not quite sane.
Then the vicious thrusts of his fingers disappeared, replaced by a more pressing need. His sturdy frame wrapped around her, bracketing her. His unfettered strength devoured her until she surrendered beneath him, spreading her thighs, needing him inside. But he didn’t enter her.
Her arousal couldn’t be denied. It slickened the skin between her thighs. Her spine arched, pressing her tits against his chest, demanding more. She closed her eyes, not that it mattered. Blackness filled her universe. She became something else behind the silken blinder: free and uninhibited.
He controlled her. By stealing her sight, he sundered her defenses. And if she thought he would fuck her then, she did not fully understand what it meant to surrender. He fingered her to the edge of reason. Tossed her over the edge of oblivion. Over and over, she cried out. He caged her in. Controlled her. He took away her power. Her choice.
She’d dreamed of toe-curling sex, but never in a million years had she envisioned soul-melding hunger. And that’s what he created. With each drag of his fingers. With each sweep of his tongue, he owned her. He took all the pieces of her, collecting the fragments until he held them all.
She wanted to do the worshipping, but he took her desires, made them his, and funneled them right back at her until screaming his name turned her throat raw.
And then, he slid the blindfold off. When she looked up, her answer lingered in the heat of his gaze. It slid over her, and through her. It buried deep inside. His confidence and passion lit a fire in her heart, demanding she give even more.
Passion and fire, possession and freedom, he encapsulated it all, and she would do anything for more.
She sighed beneath him, drunk on pleasure, and ready to repay the favor. But then his words returned to her, a mistake she’d made the last time they were on the yacht. Thomas had demanded equal payment: an orgasm for an orgasm. Derek chose a different path.
He pushed off her, moving to stand at the foot of the bed. He held himself in his hand, gripping the base of his gloriously hard cock. It was impossible to deny the way he affected her. The rawness of his lust, the passion burning in his eyes, his indescribable beauty standing over her, commanding every moment of their time together. The erotic way he held his cock was the essence of her deepest fantasies. She craved a man who embraced his carnal nature and accepted his dominance as his given right.
She moved her hands. Keeping her fingers interlaced, she rested her palms on the top of her head. “Derek…”
His brows drew together and his gaze darkened. “Unless you want me to redden that delicious ass of yours, I don’t remember giving you permission to move your hands.”
His words burned into her mind, and she stopped breathing for that look.
He stroked his erection, his hand moving up the long length and twisting around the engorged head. “Discipline is a choice you need to make. I crave it, but I won’t force it on you. But if you don’t fucking put your hands back where I said, I’ll flip you over and redden that ass, and then I’ll tie your hands overhead. You decide what happens next.”
That growly tone in his voice caused a rush of wetness between her legs
. The man did more with his words to arouse than she’d ever thought possible. Slowly, she slid her hands back where he’d commanded. She wanted every word of what he’d said, but feared falling too far too fast.
She’d thought him formidable in a tailored tuxedo, but seeing him naked? Watching him unapologetically stroke himself in front of her? His huge grip barely encircled the shaft. What would that feel like when he finally thrust it inside of her? His ramming length would bring both pleasure and pain. She would ache from thighs to chest after he impaled her with that cock. Squeezing her thighs together, she sought to soothe the ache between her legs, but he shook his head.
“Open. I need to see all of you.”
He straightened his back and stroked the length of his erection in time to the pounding of the pulse in her ears. She licked her lips, wanting another taste of him, desiring to touch him, all the more so because he denied her the choice.
His fingers curled and clenched with each agonizing slide up and down his length. He widened his stance. His desire blew out his pupils and erased the blue of his eyes, but there was something else there. Turbulent desires simmered beneath the surface, an animalistic need to rut and claim. The fierceness of his look stabbed at her chest and thrust directly into her heart.
She craved him. All of him. It was at once smothering and soothing. To bow to him and give in to his desires would mean surrendering a piece of herself and would grant him the authority to dictate the terms of their relationship. And would she?
It felt right, like she’d found a missing piece of herself. In the depths of his dominating gaze, she discovered truth. Not that she understood what that even meant. Did she crave being controlled? Disciplined? Taken according to his desires rather than her own? Did she have a deep-seated need for boundaries, discipline, and consequence?
His passion bled outward and spilled into her until she craved it with feverish intensity. Yes, she welcomed it.
“When you stare at me like that,” he said, his voice smooth and controlled, deliciously erotic and lust hazed, “I can’t help but want to know what you’re thinking.” He continued the slow slide of his fist, twisting it up and over, and back down his length. His hips joined the movement, fucking his hand with slow, languid purpose. Not once did his eyes leave hers.
The erotic sight of him fisting his girth heated her skin, slickened her thighs even more, and sank deep into her core.
He lowered his gaze, breaking contact with her, to stare at his fist as he rocked his hips forward. His lips parted, and he drew in a ragged breath, letting it out slow. “You like this?” He glanced back at her. “You like watching me touch myself?”
“Yes…” She loved watching him balance on powerful legs, clench his thighs and tighten his ass. She loved watching the muscles of his belly ripple, but what she wanted was that thick cock stretching her walls. She leaned up on her elbows, entranced by his masculine beauty.
Between one moment and the next, Derek stilled. Then, with lightning fast reflexes, he grabbed her ankles, drew her down to the edge of the bed and flipped her to her belly. He pinned her beneath him and, before she could squeak, the slap of his hand on her ass cracked, and a bolt of fire burst across her tender flesh, sinking bone deep.
The shock of it, the blinding intensity, the speed with which it happened stole her breath. She teetered on the edge of a scream when he struck again. Sharp, searing pain became her universe. Another whack of his hand jumpstarted her breathing, and her startled squeak flooded the luxurious master suite.
She bucked through another smack, clenching her ass. Then she lost her mind, as the real punishment began. His hand struck again and again. The whip-fast crack sounding with rapid fire as he struck every inch of her naked ass. He set her skin on fire. Blistering pain blinded her. She lashed out. Kicking, and screaming, and reaching around to shield herself from another strike.
He pinned her arms with barely any effort and intensified the strikes. One hand held her arms behind her back, his knee pressed against her thighs, and he beat her ass without reprieve. The anticipation of each strike only made things worse. The maddening burn spread from her backside, up her spine, sank into her gut and then tunneled straight between her legs and began to throb.
She fought. She kicked and screamed. She cursed. At first to get free, but then to see what he would do.
He wrestled her into a helpless position where all her thrashing accomplished nothing, and did nothing to impede the relentless slapping of his hand on her ass. And as his strikes grew stronger and faster, that throbbing between her legs became unbearable. Her screams stopped, morphing from pain-laced cries to desperate moans for something more.
Then he lifted her, twisting her over, tossing her back on the bed. He launched at her, his arms hooking under her arms and sliding her up the bed. And as his chest slammed against her breasts, the rest of his body plowed into her. The rock hardness of his abs met the softness of her belly. His powerful legs forced hers to part. The flared head of his cock nudged at her opening. Bracing himself above her, he caged her in with his arms and pinned her with the weight of his body.
He dipped his head, touching his forehead to hers. “Goddammit, Red or Green.” His entire body vibrated with his need. “Choose. Now!”
There was no choice. There had only ever been one answer. She dug her fingers into his hair and breathed out one word, “Green.”
His lips slammed against hers, and with that contact, an explosive release of his restraint followed. One moment, his cock nudged at her entrance, and in the next heartbeat, he slammed inside. The impossibility of his girth stretched her walls, burning until a deeper ache settled in. His tongue demanded entrance to her mouth, whipping and lashing with a frantic urgency as his hips pulled back, dragging his cock out with an agonizing slide. Then he thrust forward hard, angry, raw, and primal.
She gasped at the sensation of their union. At being taken and brutally used. She surrendered to it, and she pulled at the strands of his hair, holding him to her as his heavy breaths filled the air. And while he fucked with his hips, he fucked with his mouth as well, jabbing and thrusting, and devouring her with his fury. There was nothing gentle or slow about their first time. She didn’t give. He took every part of her and claimed it as his own. His kiss hardened, possessive in his fury, as he thrust inside.
His hands went crazy, too, pawing at her skin, scratching and digging into the flesh of her breasts. He found her nipple, flicked it, and then breathed in deep.
“This is going to hurt,” he said, and then he pinched down, squeezing her nipple in the vise between his thumb and forefinger.
Her back arched. Pain filled her universe. The sounds ripped from her throat were inhuman and raw, untamed, and filled with pain. And then he released. The pain intensified. It mixed with the agony of her abused and tender ass scratching against the covers. It melded with the pain of his punishing thrusts. It morphed into excruciating pleasure, sending her cresting a wave laced with brutal ecstasy. She cried out, gasping and shaking with the power of an orgasm which rolled over her, through her, and crested again.
His cock filled her up, and the sweet friction of each thrust shot jolts of pleasure through her body. She ground against him or tried, but she was powerless beneath his intense rhythm. All she could do was hang on while he chased his carnal release, pounding into her over and over again. Shoving harder and deeper, the mattress creaked beneath them. Her insides burned with the wildness of his attack. It was brutal, out of control, and glorious.
His kisses slowed, and he lifted far enough to capture her gaze. He held her face in his massive hands, thumbs stroking her cheeks. His desire and passion and need for her were reflected in the depth of his eyes and with every sweep of his thumb against her cheek. He fucked with a raw beauty, feral and possessive, dominant, yet controlled even when overtaken by his mindless need. He kissed her again, this time slow and gentle, as his body tensed.
She savored every moment.
The
slam of his cock held her on edge, pleasure firing along every nerve. She rode that glorious wave, her fingers tangling in his hair, as her back arched, brushing her bruised nipple against his chest.
Her body jerked as another orgasm ripped through her, this time taking him with her over the edge. His body shuddered, and his legs shook. He plunged deep milking his release, until coming to a final rest deep inside. His head drew back, and the cords on his neck stretched tight as he shouted through his release.
Lowering his head, he touched his forehead against hers again. “Mine. You’re fucking mine now.”
She wrapped her arms around him, cleaving herself to his frame. “Derek…”
He kissed her, a tender acknowledgment of their union, and nibbled on her lower lip. A low rumble vibrated in his chest. “It’s time to discuss titles, my little submissive.” He braced himself on his elbows, separating enough for a conversation. “I’m your Sir now. Don’t forget it, and we need to discuss your assignment. I need to know your thoughts.”
She reached up and dragged her finger from his temple to his chin, and landed on the fullness of his lips. “I’m yours, Sir. My thoughts belong to you. Submissive or…more.”
“More? You would want that?” His breathing hitched and his body tensed.
She gave a slight nod. “It intrigues me. Teach me. Show me the path to becoming more.”
He rolled off her, bringing his arm to cover his eyes. Still recovering, his chest heaved with his exertion, but she focused on the beauty of his body sprawled over the covers. She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers with his and rolled on her side, daring to lean over him.
He peeked out beneath his arm. “And what path would that be?”
As her heart rate slowed, she embraced her desire. “I want to be whatever you need me to be.”
“What I want isn’t something someone new to the lifestyle should ever jump into.” He pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “For now, I claim you as my submissive. As for later, we’ll see. Those roles are earned, both by you and by me.”
Becoming His, Learning to Breathe: Part Two - The Collective - Season 1, Episode 8 Page 6
