by Aline Hunter
Chapter Four
God help her, she couldn’t say no. Not now. Not when the personification of sex was so close he was burning her alive. The minute Michael’s calloused thumb stroked her clit she’d known she’d do whatever he asked. The fear and anxiety was strangely arousing, causing her to ache in a manner that was entirely new and exhilarating.
“Yes.”
She peered into his shimmering ice-blue eyes. She could see the approval in his stare, could feel the pleasure it gave her to please him. If happiness were a drug she’d live on a constant high if he presented that same look to her each and every time she did something he requested.
“Such a brave girl. Tell me your safe words.”
For a moment her stomach bottomed out. Her upbringing told her this was a big no-no. Respectable Christian women did not engage in kinky sex with men, and they certainly didn’t engage in kinky sex with men they weren’t even dating. But whose rules were those, really? Who had the right to judge what she did in the privacy of her bedroom or, in this case, a playroom?
“Lacey?”
She knew he wanted an answer but she had to be certain. Was she was really going to do this? Was she ready to take the leap into uncharted waters to learn if the ocean would wrap her in its embrace? What if she hit the surface in a horrendous belly flop that would embarrass her beyond repair?
Don’t think about it. Let go. Just feel.
“Yellow and red.” The voice that answered didn’t sound like hers. It was too deep, too shameless. No more fantasy or watching others through a screen. She was no longer the voyeur. She was now the participant.
Michael pressed a kiss to her forehead and moved away. “Take off your clothes. Leave your underwear on but remove the rest.”
His voice was different too, as was his expression. There was a power there she’d never seen before, a presence that had always lingered below the surface but she’d been too frightened to engage. Clumsy fingers made untying her boot laces difficult, the thin strings slipping from her grasp like sand, but she eventually toed them off and removed her socks. Next went her jeans and sweater, although she was shy when removing them and took her time. When she finished undressing, she placed her folded clothes next to her boots and shivered as the chilled air finally made contact with her skin.
She couldn’t look at Michael. Despite standing before him clothed in nothing more than her lacy pink bra and underwear, the thought of meeting his gaze felt too intimate. Exhilaration and humiliation clashed. What did he see when he looked at her? Did he notice all her flaws? Did he mind her tall, thin frame? Did he detest the lack of curves and cleavage?
“Beautiful.” He strode toward her in two leisurely steps and stopped an arm’s length away. “Turn around, lean over the table and spread your legs.”
Tingles erupted in her belly as excitement and uneasiness merged. Was she really going to do this? Was she ready to hand total control to Michael? The answer came as she moved to do as he requested. No matter what happened, she would finally know if the fantasy excited her as much as the reality. For once she would forget about propriety and taboo and embrace her desires.
The smooth material of the bench was cool against her belly. She spread her legs shoulder’s width apart, her breathing shallow, limbs quaking.
“Wider, angel. I felt how wet your pussy is. Now I want to see it.”
A tremor shot through her. No man had ever spoken to her so explicitly, without shame or apology, as if he had every right to do so. Trembling, she gripped the leather and widened her stance, shocked at just how excited she was to do as he ordered, captivated by his presence and intensity.
When she felt his hand skimming along the back of her thigh she jerked and inhaled raggedly. His touch was steady and deliberate, starting at the fleshy portion just beneath her ass as he slid his calloused palm slowly down until he stopped just above the back of her knee. His touch vanished and returned on the other leg, this time starting at her knee and working back up.
“Your skin is so soft and smooth, darlin’. Like touching fresh rose petals.”
His hand slid between her legs and cupped, causing her to lift onto her toes as he palmed her sex through the thin lace. He rubbed his hand back and forth, his finger gliding lightly against her clit. She moaned and pressed against his hand. She was so close to climax, so ready to reach the pinnacle that waited for her. She shook as the muscles in her pussy flexed and released, aching for something to ease the ache inside.
Michael’s hand abruptly vanished and she cried out at the loss.
“You don’t come unless I say so.”
She’d seen this online but hadn’t thought it was possible. Orgasms were something you latched on to, followed and enjoyed while you could. It was impossible to come on command.
“But—”
“Do you want to use your words, Lacey?” His voice was gruff and stern.
“N-no.”
He placed his thumb and forefinger against her chin, forcing her to look over her shoulder. His face was right there, his blue eyes intent. “Then I suggest you keep quiet and do exactly what I say. You don’t want to be punished this soon and I’d hate to gag that beautiful mouth of yours.”
When he claimed her lips this time there was nothing tender or gentle about the kiss. His tongue plunged, ravaged and dominated. She whimpered when she felt his fingers hook the crotch of her panties and push them to the side. One finger slid into her as his thumb returned to her clit, this time using firm, deliberate strokes.
Ripping his lips away, he stared into her face, watching her expression as he worked her with his fingers. “Lesson number one. You can’t come without permission. Only when I say.”
“I…” The friction of his hand, his palm grinding against her, was almost too much. It was impossible to rationalize or comprehend the lesson he wanted her to learn. At that moment she wanted to come more than she ever had in her life.
He nipped the top of her ear. “You?”
“Please,” she begged, finally understanding in the grips of a merciless sexual haze what he wanted, knowing that soon she’d come whether he allowed it or not. Never had she been this close to orgasm. Now she understood the videos. The women she’d seen had been hovering on the brink the entire time. It wasn’t impossible to have an orgasm on command if you were constantly dangling on the edge of one. Her entire body was quaking, muscles trembling violently as her teeth started to rattle.
“Please what?”
He refused to let her look away when she tried to lower her head, forcing her to meet his unwavering stare. “Please let me come, Michael. Please.”
His thumb stroked her lip just before he leaned in for another kiss. She wailed into his mouth, unable to help herself as warmth built in her stomach. By the time he pulled away, she knew she didn’t have time to ask again. She was going to come. She was too excited, to needy and too damn sexed to hold back.
“Come for me, angel.”
She did exactly that, shattering into a million pieces, becoming lightheaded as her body thrashed and her muscles flexed. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only feel and bask in the glory of the greatest climax of her life. Michael’s finger was gentle but insistent on her clit, keeping the sensation going for as long as possible. She writhed in ecstasy, the suctioning walls of her pussy clamping down on his finger. The strength in her arms and legs gave out and she collapsed against the table in a heap.
“That was perfect.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “You’re so damn sexy when you come. Next time I’ll have you lying face up on the table so you can watch yourself and I’ll use my tongue instead of my hand. How does that sound?”
The heat of his body vanished and she clung to the table, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. Her stomach knotted as she imagined watching herself in the mirror as Michael buried his blond head between her legs. The mixture of anticipation, uncertainty and danger was a potent combination, eliciting all new quivering in he
r arms, legs and abdomen.
Something soft tickled her lower back, tiny wisps of fabric brushing her skin. She lifted her head and turned to see Michael caressing her with the tails of a flogger. The handle was black, the dangling strands a beautiful, vivid red.
“Do you know what this is?”
After licking her suddenly parched lips, she managed to murmur, “A flogger.”
“That’s right. This one is made of deerskin, so it’s soft and gentle, which is exactly what we want the first time out of the gate.” He ran the tails of the flogger up and down her ass, teasing her skin. “How does that feel?”
“Good,” she sighed, placed her head on her forearms and relaxed as he continued. The tips of the leather tickled the surface of her skin, the deerskin extremely soft and velvety. This was the one concern she’d had when watching BDSM videos online. Sexual pleasure was something she was all for, not pain.
As if reading her mind, Michael said, “I’m not into excessive punishment, whips or canes. I prefer sensual to pain play.” He stopped talking, the flogger tails vanished and the sharp, unexpected slap of his palm on her ass had her lurching upright.
“What was that for?”
“I don’t recall giving you permission to ask a question.” There was humor in his voice as pressed his hips into her, the contour of his rigid cock evident against her back. He pulled away and yanked on her panties until the material was wedged between her ass cheeks, leaving her totally at his mercy. “What are your safe words?”
“Y-yellow and r-red,” she stammered, gasping for breath, suffocating once more in sexual need.
His weight vanished and the wisps of the flogger returned, so tender and light. When they vanished she braced herself for another hearty slap of his hand and was rewarded by the sharp sting of the leather against her skin. It wasn’t painful. Rather the silken strands created buzzing electricity that coursed through her body from the point of contact all the way to her bones.
“How does that feel?” Michael breezed the tails of the flogger along her skin.
How did it feel? It wasn’t painful or unpleasant. “It feels…okay.”
“I’ll take that as a go.” He laughed softly. “Hold on to the table. I want to see how pretty your ass looks when it’s red.”
She wrapped her fingers around wooden edge when the flogger came down again—harder this time. He alternated firm strokes, bringing the strips of leather down on her left cheek before doing the same with the right. It stung slightly at first but felt incredible as the skin heated and the air seemed to cool the burn. Like a deep tissue massage that ached before the muscle settled and relaxed.
“You’re doing so well.” Michael didn’t stop as he praised her. “Your skin turns a beautiful shade of pink when it’s flogged. I imagine it looks like this following a trip to the beach, when you’ve worn sunblock but manage to get a sunburn.”
Anything she wanted to say came out as whimpers and moans. Her tongue was too heavy in her mouth, her lips shaking too hard to form an adequate verbal response. Minutes had passed and her ass was hot. She was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and she had never wanted to be fucked so badly in her life. Each time the flogger landed she rocked into the strands, rubbing her sensitive nipples against her lacy bra and the leather bench beneath her, pushing her hips against the table, desperate for more.
He stopped and ran a cool hand along her warm and aching backside. “You should see how sexy your ass looks, all marked and red, and your skin is so hot and sensitive.” She felt his breath against her ear as he whispered, “But your skin isn’t the only thing that’s hot, is it?”
It was a good thing he scooped her into his arms because she didn’t think her legs would support her weight. She clung to him like a drowning woman, burying her face against his chest, inhaling deeply and breathing him in. He smelled of soap, water and man—clean, succulent and masculine.
The plush down comforter surrounded her hips, bottom and shoulders as the softness of the bed cradled her. She closed her eyes and sighed as she relaxed into the pillows. Fingers wrapped around her right arm and she opened her eyes to see Michael attaching a fur-lined cuff to her wrist.
Her eyes went wide and the hazy cloud that surrounded her began to ebb. A bit of fun on the bench with the flogger was one thing. She wasn’t tied down and unable to get free. After the cuff was clasped properly, Michael looked at her, and she realized the apprehension she felt must have been obvious.
Dipping his head, he calmed her with in a tender kiss. Her lips parted in welcome, her anxiety momentarily put on the back burner, and she groaned in pleasure as his tongue dipped inside. The man was a master with his mouth. A kiss had always been just a kiss. Not something that had her pulse pounding and her blood pumping.
He pulled away and brushed his mouth across tip of her nose. “Safe, sane, consensual. If you want to stop, say the word and we will. Nothing happens without your willingness and acceptance. None of this works without trust.”
She looked at her cuffed wrist. The fit was snug but the fur ensured it was comfortable. Her attention drifted to the bedpost, to the length of silken rope, which had a clasp on the end the perfect size to latch on to the metal ring on the cuff. After a moment she extended her hand and reclined back as he snapped the clasp onto the ring and removed the slack from the rope. He retrieved another cuff and repeated the process until both arms were stretched over her head, just loose enough that she could bend her elbows comfortably.
He took his time studying her body. His hands surrounded her waist before traveling the length of her rib cage. “You are such a clever girl.” He grasped the front of her bra. “You’ve worn underwear that makes this absolutely perfect.”
One flick of his fingers and the cloth fell to her sides, revealing her breasts. They weren’t small but they weren’t large, barely C-cup. He brought the tip of his index finger to her nipple and skimmed around the surface, his touch so light it was torture. She bowed her back for more and he pulled away, his glacierlike eyes narrowing.
He clucked his tongue. “Impatient, are we?”
The bed shifted as he stood and walked to the shelf to the right. When he returned she saw something small and silver between his fingers. Before she could ask what the objects were the bed dipped, his head descended and he captured her taut and pebbled left nipple between his lips. He used his teeth and tongue, alternating quick nips with gentle taps. The suction and the differing sensations had her writhing on the bed, a gyrating mass of bliss.
Lifting his head, he quickly placed a tweezer clamp on the wet and sensitized skin and expertly adjusted the small screw on the outside. She experienced a mixture of pain and pleasure as the device tightened around her tender nipple, absolutely intense but equally arousing. She hissed at the sensation and strained against the cuffs until he found the pressure he wanted.
“Shh.” He licked her other nipple, skimming his tongue along the surface. “Relax. You’ll find the pleasure in them. You’ll see.”
Although the clamp wasn’t painful but intrusive, placing pressure on an area of her body that was prone to be extraordinarily responsive, she wasn’t certain she enjoyed the sensation. She steeled herself as his lips vanished and were replaced by another clamp. He adjusted the second as deftly as he had the first, ensuring the device was equally tight against her skin, but she didn’t have time to dwell on her nipple or the object clamped around it.
Not with Michael moving down the length of her body.
Grasping her panties, he slid them along her legs and eased them past her feet. “Spread those pretty thighs for me.” He placed a light hand on either knee, urging her to reveal herself. “I want to know what you taste like.”
His gaze was locked between her legs and she clammed up, unable to do as he asked. Even as the prospect excited her, it also created a level of self-consciousness and nervousness that had her second-guessing her decision to take things so far. Having her hair lasered when she lived in Californi
a had been purely for cosmetic purposes, as there was nothing worse than pubic hair peering out of a skimpy bikini. To complicate matters, the men she’d been involved with steered clear of that area all together. She’d once joked to Candice if she ever wanted someone to introduce her to the land down under, she’d have to plan a trip to Australia. Damn good thing she hadn’t contacted a travel agent. The man steadily parting her thighs had every intention of showing her what oral was all about.
With her pussy entirely bare and smooth, when Michael got the full-on view of her hairless, exposed sex he would be able to see everything.
“Lacey,” he growled. Raising his head, he met her anxious gaze. “Do I need to tie your legs as well?”
“No one has seen me there before,” she blurted, cheeks flaming. Could she possibly sound sillier or more inexperienced?
He seemed amused, grinning. “Are you telling me you’re a virgin?”
She looked away, wishing the bed would rise up and swallow her to avoid the embarrassment of answering. “I’m telling you no one has ever looked at me there before.”
“That’s a shame,” the pressure against her knees forced her to part her legs slightly, allowing him to see between, “because I know you’re going to have a beautiful pussy.”
Oh dear God.
Up until then she’d never known it was possible to experience a sentence-induced hot flash. Leave it to Michael to teach her the flaw in her sexually deprived logic. She couldn’t believe what he’d said or how he’d said it, but it didn’t change the facts. This man didn’t sweeten his words to get to the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Instead he rode the colorful rays at his own pace, made the sky his bitch and took everything he wanted when he was good and ready.
His mouth and tongue created a wet trail up her left thigh, then her right. He placed his hands underneath, cradling her ass as he slid his shoulders between her knees. If she was trembling before, she was shaking now, unable to remain still even if she wanted to. His breath was hot against her electrified skin, his mouth hovering just over her sex.
