Surrender to More

by Rachel De Lune

  “How are you feeling Princess? I’d like a colour.” His deep voice calms me, and I relax deeper into the table.

  “Green, Luc.”

  “But you weren’t, were you, Princess? I can read your body.”

  “No, I was yellow, but only because I’d had no contact from you. Silence makes me antsy.”

  “Okay, noted.”

  Something cold and hard presses against the sole of my foot. “Jesus, what…”

  “Shhh. You can beg me, moan, cry out my name, or give me red, yellow or green. Apart from that, I want you quiet. Understand?” The cold spreads out from the point on my foot and turns to a warm sensation. Then it begins to move, sliding along the sole of my foot and around my ankle. Icy shivers follow in its wet path, chilling my skin further. I press my lips together, so I don’t shout the stream of words collecting in my mind. The ice cube pauses on its journey on my inner thigh just above my knee. The cold stings and rivulets of water run down my leg, tickling as they go.

  “Your pussy is right here for me, Princess. Open and wet for me to do whatever I want. You want that, too. You like that I’ll take you how I want. Your clit is all puffy, desperate for just a little…”

  “Arrr!”

  “…attention.”

  The ice cube runs over my clit and down between my folds. The flash of pain melts as he takes the cube away, and I pant in relief. I drop my chin to my chest, but I can’t see him. Instead, my mind conjures a vision of him standing between my legs with his eyes staring greedily at my pussy.

  “You were so fucking wet when I fucked you. I want to get you that hot every time I sink my dick inside of you. Are you wet now, Princess? Say green if you’re wet for me.”

  “Green! Green, Luc.” I clamp my lips shut, determined not to beg so soon. The frozen touch returns and runs from the top of my clit, down my pussy, and teases my opening. My breath hitches and I grip the belt to stop myself squirming on the table. He removes the ice. The cold droplets run down to my bum. I moan, unable to contain the pleasure Luc ignites in me.

  I shouldn’t be so surprised I’ve responded this way. I enjoy sex. With Luc, it is unbelievably explosive. His fingers bring the ice back and trail it up my thighs before, again, seeking out my clit. He keeps it right on the top of the delicate nub until my skin feels like it is on fire. My legs begin to shake, and I pull on my restraints. The frigid water mixes with my own juices as my heat melts away the ice. The scream is lodged in my throat, ready to announce my pleasure, but it fades to a throbbing pain. Too much. Too much.

  “Yellow…” Luc removes the ice and replaces it with his wet and open mouth, sucking my clit into his hot mouth. “Fuck… Luc, please… I want you in me.” He doesn’t answer my plea but continues to pull my swollen clit between his lips and teeth, replacing the ice with fire.

  This slow build and tease is a far cry from what I’m used to when it comes to sex. I’m the one to take the lead, knowing that it will be better because I can control the connection. But this? The wantonness over-rides my mind. I don’t care that I’m open to Luc. I don’t care that he’s the one who commands me. I like it. He intoxicates me with his control. My building orgasm surges through each fibre of my being, and I can’t do anything to slow it or speed it up. I’m in Luc’s hands unless I say ‘red’.

  “Please, Luc… I want to come. I want you to fuck me.” He doesn’t answer but continues to eat at my clit and pussy.

  My muscles begin to tighten, and I long to flex my legs. As my body stiffens, Luc withdraws his mouth and slides the remaining ice inside my pussy with his finger. The cold shocks my system into orgasm, and my body arches off the table as I convulse around his finger. My hands grip the belt above my head as I pant in silent ecstasy. My eyes screw up as the beat of my climax pulses through me.

  As my body relaxes into the cool wood, I feel Luc’s finger gently stroking inside of me, coaxing the last of my climax from me.

  “Are you going to fuck me now?” I ask, as a satisfied smile spreads across my lips. I stretch my arms above my head. My shoulders ache from being in this position and holding onto his damn belt.

  “You’d like that wouldn’t you, Princess? For me to take you and make your body fly again?”

  “Yes, Luc.” There is no point in being anything but honest with him.

  “Good.” My eyes are flooded with light as he snatches his t-shirt from my face. “Drop the belt.”

  The loud clunk is a welcome echo around the apartment. I sit up, and my muscles protest the move. Luc releases my legs, and as soon as I’m free, I slide off the table and wrap my arms around his neck.

  He rewards me with a forceful kiss and thrusts his tongue into my mouth. He hoists me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He carries me swiftly through the apartment to the stairs leading to his bedroom. I hope. His lips never leave mine, and the torrent of desire he released from my body is back with a vengeance.

  I lose myself in his kiss. I let my mind concentrate on the man who is starting to put the pieces of my heart back together. With each interaction, my heart stirs, a new part awakening. When I’m like this, wrapped in his strength and without my usual armour of control, it feels…good.

  “Whoa!” I’m brought back to the now with a jolt as, once again, Luc tosses me onto the bed. I can’t help but grin at the similarity to the first time we were together. Luc switches on a light, and it bathes the room in a warm glow. The room is full of deep blues and greens, but I don’t waste my time taking it all in. The handsome male in front of me holds my attention. His fly is undone and he strokes his hard cock as he peruses my naked body. I’d forgotten I wasn’t wearing clothes—so much has happened since he first undressed me.

  I suddenly want to be the one to hold his cock, to feel the hardness of it, the silky soft skin. I pull my lip between my teeth and stay put.

  “Good girl. Now, onto all fours and relax for me.” I move without hesitation. The rustle of his jeans hitting the floor spikes the adrenaline and lust mixing in my blood. My climax from earlier was intense, but it didn’t grant the satisfaction giving my body to Luc would achieve.

  Luc’s warm hands caress either side of my spine and press into my flesh.

  “Mmm, that feels good.” I arch into his touch like a contented cat.

  “Same rules apply as downstairs. Red, yellow and green. Okay?”

  “Okay.” I purr, more than ready to feel Luc inside me. I wiggle my hips and try to encourage him.

  A loud ‘crack’ splits the air a moment before a hot flash of pain licks my arse cheek.

  “Oww.” I pull away, leaning forward, but his fingers dig into my hips and cease my retreat.

  “I don’t think so, darling. Stay still. Red, yellow or green.” He leans over my back and wraps a hand around to pinch my clit. The pain morphs into a dull throb that ignites the residual feeling of my orgasm. “That’s better. Nice and wet for my dick.”

  He releases me and proceeds to rub the head of his cock through my folds before surging forward and impaling me.

  “Arrr!”

  He thrusts inside, gripping my hips to anchor me. He grinds into me, rotating his hips and I dip my shoulders to the bed, allowing him to go as deep as he can. I expect him to thrust and pump, taking me rough and hard like he did the first time we were intimate. He doesn’t. He pulls out slowly, making me feel every inch of him before sinking back in. It is delicious torture—enough to keep my pussy on edge, but not enough to bring me close to my second climax.

  He continues his devilish pace, and I struggle against the growing urge to push back against him and force him to take me how I want him to. He doesn’t give me a chance. Smack, smack, smack. Three more strikes hit my arse, and I tense in shock as the pain heats and then mellows with Luc’s thrust.

  “Fuck, Princess. Your pussy is making it hard for me to concentrate.” His words add more fuel to the growing need clawing its way to the surface. My arse is hot from the spanks, but it doesn’t hurt. The pain adds t
o the sensations that Luc forces me to feel. Worshipped, important and… special.

  He continues the agonisingly slow pace before switching it up when he spanks me again, only thrusting when my body squeezes him, forcing his pace to slip.

  “Luc… I’m green. I’m so green, I need you to make me come. I need you to take me hard, and fuck me like you want to.”

  “Stop…talking.” Luc thrusts harder than ever, punctuating his command. “Your pussy clenches my dick so hard when I spank you, Princess. Your body loves it.”

  “Luc, stop, please… fuck me. Fuck me.” I grip the duvet, desperate for him to make me come. I’ve never felt so hungry or so wild. Luc said I’d want everything he gave to me, and he was right. My deep breaths suck in the air I need, and my back arches. Each surge of Luc’s hips brings me closer to climax. My muscles tighten, and my pussy feels so desperate, I’m on the verge of delusion.

  “My dick is dripping with your juices. Beg, Princess. I want you to beg.”

  “Please, please Luc, make me come. I’m begging. Make me come.” I beg with no restraint in my voice. My whole body is strung out and burning for release. Three more hits connect to my arse, but I barely register them in the fog of lust. Luc’s fingers finally grip me, and he pounds into me. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room and mingles with my breathy groans.

  Sweat breaks across my body as I’m taken higher towards the inevitable. My legs quiver and I can feel my pussy clenching tighter, ready to snap.

  “Jess, fuck!”

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!” I scream as my body overrides my mind. I slam back into Luc and grind my arse, milking him. The lightning sparks, and I come crashing down, my body going lax. Luc’s grip still keeps me anchored to him, but my weight is dragging me down to the bed.

  I collapse and feel the dip of Luc behind me as he follows my lead.

  Holy crap, what have I got myself into?

  My body stirs, despite my mind trying to keep the waking hours at bay. I’m warm and could happily stay in bed. As I drift back into oblivion, the intensity of last night—the tension, the heat and the sex—rush through my mind, making it impossible to shut out the day.

  The ridiculously comfortable bed isn’t mine, but Luc’s, and he’s not here. My heart stammers as I sit up and survey his room. Blues and greens flow around the room, only broken by the open door. A plush carpet cushions my feet as I step out of bed and search for something to cover my body.

  I open one of the drawers in the chest at the side of the room. Even the wood carries a petrol blue hue. I settle for a t-shirt and slide it over my head and venture out to the hall. My memory of this part of the house is somewhat clouded by all of Luc last night.

  My feet creep down the wooden steps and out into the main room. Now that I’m awake, I need a cup of tea before I’ll be able to make sense of what to do next. I can’t remember the last time I spent the night at a guy’s house.

  I peer in and see Luc in the kitchen area.

  “How do you like your coffee?”

  “Tea, I like tea. Please, tell me you have tea.” I don’t care how good he is in bed, or how he’s awoken my heart, if he doesn’t have tea at home, things aren’t going to work out.

  “Relax, Princess. I have tea. So that you know, I take my coffee black and strong.” He pops one of those funny capsule pods into a machine on the counter and lets it do its business. He pulls out a chrome canister and fishes a t-bag out and switches on the kettle. “You’re not a morning person, are you?”

  “Not especially. This is far too early to be up on Sunday. I’d much rather be asleep in bed.”

  “I find it particularly hard just to sleep with you in bed with me. Besides, we have things to do. I’d suggest breakfast out, but perhaps brunch would be a better bet?” he arches a brow at me in question.

  “Brunch? I was going to head home after I’ve finished the tea you’re making for me.”

  “Do you have plans today?”

  “No, I …”

  “Good. Then you can take your tea back to bed, and we’ll do brunch a little later on.” He turns back to the mug and finishes my brew. He sets my cup in front of me and leans over the counter towards me, planting a kiss on my forehead. He picks up his own mug and heads back through the open expanse of his apartment to the stairs. I don’t miss the opportunity and turn to watch him walk away. Holy crap! His back is covered in a detailed, black and grey tattoo, a door decorated with people and figures, spanning the width of his shoulders and down to the top of his boxer shorts.

  “Luc, what...” I grab my tea and follow after my inked David Beckham. “How did I not notice your tattoo before now?” He throws me a dirty smile that only reminds me of all the things he did to me last night.

  “Well, Princess, if you noticed my tattoo after what I did to you last night, I clearly wasn’t doing it right.” He walks back towards where I’ve stilled at the entrance to his room. He takes the tea from my hand and places it on the dresser to the side of the door, and pulls me further into his domain.

  “I remember you being under me for the most part. First on your back, then on your knees. Neither offered a good vantage point to see my back.” His sensual lips begin a slow sweep down my neck.

  “Stop, no. Let me look.” I scurry out of his arms and turn around to face his back.

  A mural of black and grey figures emerges from the smoke-effect shading and look in pain. Figures, faces, and couples decorate the contours of his muscle. Three men stand at the top, looking down on the chaos below. Another man sits and ponders the scene beneath him. There is something familiar about the composition.

  Pain and sorrow radiate from the depiction. I shudder to imagine the reason Luc would want such anguish committed to his skin. My fingertips trace a woman’s form on his flank, but Luc snaps around and grabs my wrist, ceasing my exploration.

  “What is it? Your tattoo?” I search his eyes for any sign of the despair that I see when I look at his back.

  His grip doesn’t loosen, and his eyes are steady with mine.

  “It’s Rodin’s Gates of Hell. It’s probably my favourite piece of art. He was a French sculptor. You might know The Kiss or Thinking Man?”

  “Maybe, I’m not sure.”

  “Those are his most famous pieces. I fell in love with his ‘Gates’ piece when I visited Paris and went to his sculpture garden there.”

  “So you had it re-created on your back?”

  “Why not? You might want to look for a dark and twisted tale as to why I have all those souls inked into me, but people get imagery they love on their skin all the time. It can be just that.” He drops my wrists and heads to his wardrobe pulling out some jogging trousers and a t-shirt, shoving them on and covering his skin. He digs his feet into trainers before coming back to me.

  “Go back to bed, drink your tea and maybe get some more sleep. I’m heading to the gym. I’ll be back in an hour, and then we’ll go out.” He kisses my forehead and sweeps out of the room.

  Luc’s plan sounded fine—at least, the tea and bed part sounded fine. I’d been out for dinner or drinks with dates before. However, there was always alone time in-between the two. I never stayed over. If we wanted to spend the night together, they would have to stay at my place.

  This… was new. Different. I was in his territory.

  I prop myself up in bed and sip my tea.

  I knew my defences were talking. Being here and being trusted had my heart waking up and stretching in my chest. It sent a funny feeling through my veins, and it was that alien sensation that had me on the retreat.

  I was doing better. I wanted to be here. I wanted the connection with Luc that was pulling me in and letting him slip closer to me. Being tied up last night didn’t give me the time to take control and put my wall up. The submission burnt my defences to the ground and gave Luc free rein to walk over the ashes.

  I drain the tea and lounge in bed, having had my self-therapy session. Dr. Cross would be keen to know
I’m making progress with trusting someone enough to make a proper connection.

  Going back to sleep was an appealing idea, but my brain was too awake. With no clothes other than the scrap of material that masqueraded as a dress, I was stuck with Luc’s t-shirt. I head to the bathroom and find a bathrobe that could drown me. I wrap myself in the soft cotton and walk downstairs.

  His kitchen is spotless. The whole of the downstairs looks like some advert in an interior design magazine. Sleek, gleaming wooden floors stretch the length of the space. Soft, muted furnishings create texture and comfort in the stark space. I stare at the table positioned in the middle of the room, and a warm flush creeps up my neck as the memories cast across my mind.

  My interest in BDSM centres around Luc. I can’t deny the thought of him telling me what to do in my normal life makes me want to laugh, but when he touches my skin, it’s like I’m in a bubble of compliance, and I’m willing to do his bidding. At least, that’s what it feels like when I try to be objective about it.

  I shake my head. I’ve given far too much time to these thoughts. It’s only… I check my watch and wince at the time. It’s only 9:30 a.m. I should be tucked up, still sound asleep. I make another cup of tea and perch on a stool at the kitchen counter.

  The bang of the front door closing makes me jump, and I spin around to watch Luc walk into the room. He’s breathing hard, and his t-shirt has that delicious v of sweat on his chest. The hair around his temples is damp, and I can’t contain the little sigh I make as he walks towards me.

  “I’m going to take a shower.” He plants a firm and unfriend-like kiss on my lips before stepping away from me and disappearing.

  Half an hour and my third cup of tea later, Luc comes back downstairs. I’d moved from the kitchen to the more comfortable sofa at the other end of the room. My computer bag was still here from last night, so I brought myself back to reality with a dose of emails and social media.