by Cara Dee
I swallow a needy noise that would no doubt sound like "Hnnngh." Not very flattering.
"Come on, little rebel." Rio gives my chin a sharp nip. Then he releases me and slaps my butt. "We're going to my bedroom."
Yes, please, and thank you.
I shoot Dylan a smirk over my shoulder, but he's preoccupied with the remote controls.
Two doors down is Rio's bedroom, and I shiver just walking inside. Like the hallway, it's decorated in warm colors, and there are more photographs of family members and friends. I recognize his brother in one of them; they look so much alike that it's scary. From Facebook, I know his name is Gabriel.
As my gaze lands on the large four-poster bed, butterflies kick in and I get nervous. This doesn’t feel like a part of the play party downstairs, but I'm probably wrong. I gotta be careful and not let my crush do the talking.
"So this is where the magic happens, huh?" I don’t know why I had to fill the silence. Firstly, I haven't gotten permission to open my mouth, and, secondly, I don’t want his reply to my question. I chuckle awkwardly and shake my head. "I'm sorry, Dominus."
"Master Rio," he corrects quietly from behind me. No more Roman games, then? I shudder, feeling a hand trail up my spine. His warm breath along my shoulder. Then a featherlight kiss. "I'm giving you one out, Chelsea. Otherwise you're mine for the next few hours, and we won't be leaving this room."
"No out." I bite my lip to keep a gasp bottled up inside. "I want this, Sir."
"Perfect. Undress me."
I turn and grasp the hem of his costume, swiftly getting it over his head. Well, sorta swiftly. I may not be all that short, but Rio's a skyscraper.
This is only fair, too. I've been naked the entire evening. It's about time I get to see every inch of Rio Kelly. And hot fucking damn, what a sight. The fabric falls to the floor, leaving him in absolutely nothing else, and I…gawk. I gawk at his imperfectly perfect body. Black hair mixing with a hint of silver, flawless skin marred by a few scars and birthmarks, strength from a healthy lifestyle mingling with the fact that his life's been filled with danger, too. The years he's spent in third-world countries whisper of stories on his body.
"You're not favoring your left leg," I note softly. I close in and touch him reverently, curious about the scar that runs along his upper thigh. When I reach his hip, I catch sight of his hand. Another scar. From a burn? Looks like it. "What did you do here?"
He opens his hand and shows the faint line across his palm. "Somalia. We were pulling crates of supplies up a cliff." He chuckles wryly under his breath. "Rope burns."
"No gloves?" Silly Dom.
"No time." His humor is gone now, and I see something haunting in his eyes. The green dims, perhaps an unpleasant memory taking over. "My one and only run-in with actual pirates."
"What the fuck?" My eyes grow wide.
He inclines his head. "Big money in medical supplies. We made it out of there alive, though." He taps my nose. "And we can save the rest for another time." Next, he points down. "Should my clothes be on the floor?"
Shit, double shit, triple shit. "I'm sorry, Master Rio." I'm an idiot. This isn't some romantic let's-get-to-know-each-other rendezvous. It's a scene. Playtime. Nothing lovey-dovey. "Where would you like them?" I pick up the clothes and keep my gaze lowered.
"On the chair over there, please." He lifts a hand in the direction of the corner nearest the large window wall overlooking the street. I hadn't even noticed it until now, and it makes me hesitate. Which Rio evidently sees. "We can see out, but nobody can see in."
Phew. I'm all for a little exhibitionism, but I like being prepared.
Once I've hung his costume over the chair, Rio tells me to clear the bed then lie down on my stomach and wait for his return.
"Oh—" He pauses in the doorway. "Arms and legs spread."
Then it's just me.
I release a shaky breath and get crackin', removing the bedspread. The dark blue blanket follows, revealing pristine, white sheets and fluffy pillows. I push them up against the headboard, then get on the bed and into position. Facedown, arms and legs spread.
I hope I don’t get fake henna on his sheets.
My temporary tattoo is still perfect, but who knows what Rio has planned. He could have me sweating buckets and ruining the ink in no time.
"Fuck, you're beautiful, Chelsea."
Just like that, the temperature goes up a hundred degrees. I hear his feet pad closer on the hardwood floor, and then feel the bed dip with his weight, and, finally, he covers my body with his.
My bones turn liquid.
His large hands roam my back and sides as he kisses my shoulders and neck. I love his weight on me, pressing me into the mattress. Caged by his warmth, by his sexy body, all I can do is take whatever he gives.
"We're going to have a few rules." He shifts my hair to the side and nips at my neck. "You're familiar with speech restrictions, yes?"
"Yes, Sir." I let out a moan as one of his hands slides underneath me and cups my pussy. I try to push up my ass, but he responds by pressing his cock harder against me. It's nestled so perfectly between my butt cheeks, but I want more. I want him inside. Now, now, now.
"Excellent. Only three words are acceptable—not counting your safewords." He eases away, and I hear him rustling with something. A bag? "The words are 'yes,' 'Master,' and 'please.' Understood?"
"Yes, Master." A thousand times yes. Then a buzzing sound has my attention, and soon I feel a vibrator being positioned to my clit. Fuck! I suck in a breath, almost cursing out loud. But damn, he put that on high. The vibrations ignite me and make me wanna squirm like crazy.
"Good girl." After that, he's quiet for a while as he ties me to the bed. Silk ties for my ankles and wrists. Lastly, a blindfold. "Lie still. Just. Like. That. Bloody gorgeous."
I bite down hard on my lip. Behind the blindfold, I screw my eyes shut tightly, and I grab on to the ties that restrain me. The buzzing is just so fucking powerful, and after a whole evening of merciless teasing, I could come in a few seconds.
Rio gets behind me once more and this time encourages me to lift my ass off the mattress. Other than a brief sound of crinkling foil, there's no warning. He inches forward, and then he pushes his cock deep inside me in one smooth stroke.
Oh my God. I mouth the words in a silent scream, the pleasure exploding behind my closed lids like its own little orgasm.
"Christ," he grits out.
I stifle cries, sure I've never felt this contained. Bound by him, fucked by him, surrounded and covered by him. Him…the man I've crushed on since I was basically a kid.
"Master," I whimper.
"Fucking finally." Rio shudders on top of me and splays a hand between me and the bed. "God, I've waited…" Waited? Forcing himself deeper into my pussy, he stretches me and grinds me harder against the vibrator. All of it, what he's doing, is enough to turn my brain into mush. "Incredible." With a kiss to my neck, he begins to move in slow but firm thrusts. "You're allowed to come as many times as you want, but—" He pauses to catch his breath. "But I'm not sure you'll be able to in a little bit." That last word is followed by his teeth sinking into my neck and his free hand fisting my hair. He tugs me back harshly, causing me to arch and tighten my grip on the ties.
Pain sears through me, and I can't help but cry out. It's the weirdest thing, loving pain and getting a sense of euphoria from it. It's exactly what happens; tears well up in my eyes, and while my mind wants to fight it, my body craves it. My pulse skyrockets, my heart drums rapidly, and my breathing becomes shallow.
"Please," I moan, writhing beneath him. "Please!"
He mutters a curse and rises to kneel behind me. He pulls me with him too, and my wrists ache from the straining ties and my need to support myself on the mattress. Just thinking about the possibility of wearing marks tomorrow has me quivering.
"I want to test you, pet." He grunts and fucks me harder. "I've been told you like pain. Which…" A dark chuckle escapes him. "Fuck,
the things I wanna do."
"Yesss," I hiss. Every thrust he gives me, I try to push back just as much. He turns me into this greedy little slut. "Please, Master."
Another curse, and he stops. For several seconds, all I hear is our labored breathing and the toy.
"I need to see you." He reaches over me and quickly unties my restraints, then removes the blindfold. Like a rag doll, I'm tossed around so I'm on my back, and then I have him slamming inside me again.
The shock of the sudden movements makes me forget the rules, and I let out a hoarse wail. "Jesus fuck!"
For some reason, Rio grins. "And now I have an excuse to hurt you even more."
Oh, my fucking God.
"Don’t worry." With a grip on my jaw, he gives me a hard kiss, then brushes the pad of his thumb over my lip and smirks down at me. "Just this once, I'm going to allow you to enjoy a punishment."
I'm by no means a brat—usually—but I find myself triggered by that smirky smirk. So I mirror it in a teasing way and bite his thumb.
He hisses and yanks it away, only to laugh and kiss me again. "My beautiful little whore," he murmurs. "You're gonna regret that."
I gulp as he backs away and twirls a finger.
"Get on all fours again."
I obey and face forward, even though I'm dying to find out what he's looking for in his toy bag. The vibrator is switched off, and he replaces it with a tiny one that comes with an actual clip. Oh, motherfucker. It hurts like a son of a bitch when he attaches it to my clit, but the pain mingles with the relief of pleasure.
What follows next is a session of torture and mind-blowing ecstasy. I lose track of time as he spanks me, fucks me, flogs me, and twists a plug inside my ass.
I'm a sobbing mess who has lost count of the orgasms, as well.
Wearing his marks tomorrow isn't only a possibility anymore, but a certainty.
"Color?" he asks for the umpteenth time, panting.
"Gr-green," I mumble, feeling as if I'm spacing out a bit. "So green, Master." Every inch of me is burning. My skin is alive, pulsing and aching.
When he removes the plug, I wonder which implement is next, and I get my answer when he brushes the flat wooden surface of a paddle along my back.
"Your ass is such a lovely shade of red right now." He hums. "A little bit of purple here, too."
Without warning, the paddle comes down with a resounding smack on my left butt cheek. I let out a powerless wail, only to scream and clutch the sheets impossibly tighter when he rams two fingers inside my pussy. Combined with the buzzing vibrator on my clit, I'm pushed toward another orgasm.
I can't breathe. I can't fucking breathe. I'm locked in a cage of pain and pleasure, both immobilizing me.
He strikes again and again, all while the climax crashes down on me. Then he drops the paddle somewhere on the floor before gripping my hips and slamming his cock into me.
The edges of my vision get blurry, and I see my limit approaching fast. Flipping me over a final time, he fucks me into the bed and grabs my throat in a light choke hold. His breathing is as harsh as his thrusts. I feel hot puffs of air and kissable lips against my cheek.
"I think that’s it," he groans hoarsely. "Color, baby?"
I scream out in pain as he locks my legs around his hips and draws his blunt fingernails along the back of my thigh. After all that paddling and flogging, I can't anymore.
"Yellow," I choke out.
He nods and removes the vibrator on my clit. "Good girl. I'm proud of you." Blood surges to my clit, exactly like it does to nipples after being clamped, and I'm thrown into a last orgasm. "God, Chelsea… You feel so damn amazing."
I can't see, I can barely hear, and I can't control any part of my body. Rio dominates me completely.
"Goddamn—I'm gonna come." He kisses away the tears that have evidently fallen down my face, and throughout the aftershocks of my orgasm, all I register are out-of-place murmurs about what a perfect girl I am.
Another kind of warmth seeps into me. His praise settles like a blanket, and I cling to him like a needy baby.
He called me that. He called me baby.
I don’t wanna find him perfect already. I'll only be setting myself up for heartbreak. But what else am I supposed to feel? He's given me the perfect mixture of pain and affection. He hurts me physically then wraps me up in…comfort.
Oh, fuck.
I tense up momentarily before exhaustion wins. There's simply no fight left in me. I can't struggle against Rio. Not him. Even if this is my only time with him, I gotta let myself take whatever I can get. And I hope—God, I hope. I hope for more.
Chapter 8
I wake up in the middle of the night, disoriented and tired as hell. Someone called my name, right?
Dante.
I blink drowsily. Only the small lamp on Rio's nightstand is lit, just enough for me to see Dante sitting on the edge of the bed and Rio standing in the doorway.
In a heartbeat, a flood of memories comes rushing back. The party…who won? Is Rio disappointed we never returned downstairs? Where's Dylan now? What time is it, exactly? Why the fuck is every part of me throbbing? Oh, that’s right. Rio…the pain, the amazing sex, the comfort…
Afterward, he'd carried me to his bathroom and drawn me a relaxing bath. He'd dried me, rubbed aloe into my skin, massaged me, kissed me, held me…until I fell asleep in his arms.
It really happened.
"You can be the big spoon another time," he'd chuckled sleepily when I had tried to face him.
Another time. Let's hope.
Back to the present, I blink again and peer up at Dante's tired grin. Looks like he's enjoyed the party.
"Is it time to go?" I whisper hoarsely, clearing my throat. The thought of getting dressed and going home ranks somewhere near swimming with sharks and cuddling spiders.
"Well, Gretchen and I are." Dante smiles and touches my cheek. "You look very comfortable here. It's up to you. Rio tells me he'd like you to stay the night."
I look over to Rio, warm and fuzzy that he wants me to stay, and he nods. "If you want."
If I want? Are ya kiddin'?
"I want." I manage a cheeky grin and turn to Dante again.
He chuckles. "I'm glad your playtime was that good. I still feel responsible for you, though. If you don’t mind, I'd like to come get you in the morning. Where you and Rio go from there is up to you, of course."
Sounds reasonable.
"Bring your sub, and we can have breakfast here tomorrow," Rio suggests.
Dante agrees, and after setting a time, he goes downstairs again. Rio follows, letting me know that he just has to show Miranda to the slave quarters in the basement first.
I shake my head to myself, thinking it's sort of disturbing. Again, my kink might not be Miranda's and vice versa, but jeesh. I'm looking forward to the entire story, and I need Rio's take on it, too. Otherwise I know I won't be able to move on, no matter how much I'm hoping for it.
When Rio returns, he strips off his boxer briefs and gets under the covers. He pulls me close and tucks my head under his chin as if we do this every night. As if this is normal.
"You're stiff as a stick." He kisses the top of my head and lets his lips linger. "Relax, Chelsea."
I'm trying, but this is weird. Scening is one thing, but spending the night like this? At the very least, shouldn’t I be shown to the slave quarters, as well? What makes me so damn different? Especially with our past and his reaction to my moving here—stop.
I blow out a breath.
Tomorrow. Or soon. I'll ask my questions then. Not tonight. Not right now. I'll savor this.
Except for one thing. "Miranda," I blurt out. "Is she forgiven? For whatever she's done." I add that last part in a rush. After all, Dylan and I are probably not supposed to know that she apparently stole money from Switch.
Rio doesn’t seem affected by my question at all. "That’s what punishments are for. Once you've been punished, you're forgiven."
I n
eed to see his face for this, so I lift my head to search his eyes. "Do you really mean it?" I need you to mean it.
"Yes. Now, shush." He silences me with a hard kiss, and I'm torn. Never in my life have I considered myself insecure. I've worked hard to get to where I am, even though I'm not exactly a huge success. But I manage fine, and I will never be ashamed of my past. Still, closing the subject so fast has me wondering if he really does mean what he says. Then again, he has no reason to lie.
Ugh. Overthinking is a bitch.
"Let me look at you." Rio slides his hands underneath my armpits and hoists me up with a grunt, positioning me so I'm straddling his hips. "There we go." He grins faintly in the dim light, his eyes raking over my naked body. "Hell." At his whispered curse, I peer down to see what's causing that look of reverence in those green peepers of his. "You grew up, little rebel."
I watch as he traces a finger along the henna tattoos then derails to brush his thumb over a thin welt on my hip.
"Seeing my marks on you…" His jaw clenches. I feel his cock thickening between us. Heat pools in my stomach, and my brain struggles against the cobwebs of exhaustion. "Perfect," he murmurs, his eyes searching mine. "I'd like your thoughts on our scene before we sleep." His voice remains low and warm, but I can tell he doesn’t have another round of sex at the forefront of his mind. Shame. "The level of pain—do you want more or less?"
"Not more." I smooth a hand down his chest, feeling the sparse hair under my palm. "Tonight was incredible, right up until I reached my limit."
He nods pensively, his gaze never leaving mine. "Good. I wouldn’t be able to inflict any more, regardless. It was my limit, as well."
To hear we're perfectly matched in at least this department is a heady feeling, but it will probably only fuel the heartbreak if we don’t want the same kind of relationship.
I'm no stranger to sub frenzy; it happens too often. A sub desperate to find that special connection, and as soon as someone comes along and ticks off several boxes, it's easy to delude yourself and think you're in love and want it forever. I've been through it before, but this feels different.
I'm experienced enough to not rush into things because once that frenzy settles, you're back to where you started. The crazy attraction and the lovely butterflies evaporate—unless it's real. Unless you're cautious. Unless you take time to build a steady foundation. Unless your limits match.
