“I rarely did blow jobs before, Graham. And I never swallowed. I was pulling your chain.”
Graham gave her what she was coming to recognize as his Look.
“Honest, babe. I like your taste. Never liked anyone else’s. Please.”
“I can attach a chain to the clamps, honey, and do a little pulling of my own.”
Shit. He just couldn’t let anything go. Something for reflection later, but in the meantime Kennedy wanted to talk him out of the chain. She was used to the clamps now but knew that would change if he upped the ante, so she kept silent.
Graham carefully inserted the tip of one finger between her still tender labia and unerringly found her clit. He traced light circles on it, and she moaned. Her orgasm began to build. The plug felt huge all of a sudden, and her nipples sang. Maybe one more and she could rest, unless Graham needed another release. He was going to pleasure her to death. This time her climax crept up on her like little cat feet, and she shuddered, only to scream and go over again when he popped the clamps free. The restraints held her when she sagged, and then Graham was there to hold her and release her. He carried her to the bed and pressed gentle kisses on her sore nipples.
“You are beautiful in your submission, Kennedy.”
Kennedy heard the words, but they didn’t really register. Submission? Her? Graham must know he had it wrong. He had restrained her and made her talk. That wasn’t submission. They were going to have another chat tomorrow. Kennedy didn’t submit, and if Graham thought he was training her, he had another thought coming. But for now she felt boneless and totally relaxed.
* * * *
Graham held her close and admired how her hair flowed to cover her shoulders and breasts. He was hard again, had been since her spanking, but she was sore and he had pushed her tonight. There was always tomorrow, and the day after. He couldn’t imagine a life without her, and he was going to introduce her to every little kink he could. He didn’t need it all the time, but there would be things she liked, and once he learned everything she needed, their sexual life would be complete. He only hoped she wouldn’t want another man to join them because he didn’t think he could handle that. Maybe he should rethink this whole idea about easing her into the lifestyle. Kennedy wouldn’t look amiss with a whip in her hand. She was such a contrast. All the same, she really liked sex and trusted him. That was the most important thing for him. On that thought, he drifted off, resolutely not considering that he hadn’t given himself the opportunity of trusting her with his whole self.
Chapter Eight
Kennedy was clearly giving Patrick’s job offer some serious consideration, and Graham watched her in anticipation. Having Kennedy in the same building as he lived in twenty-four-seven had such an appeal. He didn’t need any space from her. He wanted her around all the time, and while waiting to be with her sexually built his need, being able to turn to her at virtually every free moment seemed absolutely perfect to him. Plus, the club had everything he needed for his kink and control needs.
After she chewed and swallowed the last piece of crisp bacon she had filched from Graham’s plate, Kennedy said, “How about a three-month trial period, Patrick?”
Patrick nodded. “That would make sense, Kennedy. I appreciate that you working here, living here, and having a, well, a relationship with Graham, all under one roof might be somewhat overwhelming.”
“I’m counting on having one of your private rooms as a refuge from time to time, Patrick,” she said ruefully.
“Hey!” Graham was offended.
“Babe, this is going to take some adjusting on everyone’s part, and my work is just as important to me as yours is to you,” she advised.
Graham hardly heard the words. It felt like Christmas. At least the kind of Christmas he had experienced since connecting with Patrick and his own kind.
“I need to make arrangements for my place, let my other job prospects know, the usual,” Kennedy continued. “How about two weeks from now?”
* * * *
Graham took her on a tour. Kennedy was amazed at the size of the place. Patrick had his own sumptuous quarters on the top floor while Graham and Jordan had large suites on the next floor down. There was an empty suite, and Graham told her they would eventually recruit another house Dom. Patrick’s office and meeting rooms took up yet another floor and also featured a large commercial kitchen with a chef and wait staff and an adjoining atrium. Graham explained that the atrium was the usual place to eat, but there was room in each suite to dine as well as a small kitchenette. The fourth floor gave way to storage. All sorts of strange furniture was placed around the rooms, and Kennedy recognized some from her recent perusal of BDSM websites.
“We keep current furniture, tools, and toys, honey,” Graham explained, “But we store the rest. There isn’t a big market for used BDSM stuff, and we sometimes bring it back down. The new things are often fads. Nothing like the old tried and true.” He leered at her when he said that, and Kennedy’s pussy moistened.
The next floor held some private rooms and suites that out-of-town members rented when visiting, and they were fully equipped for play and rest. Kennedy mentally chose one as her sanctuary for when Graham made her too crazy. She had already seen the clubrooms, the dance floor, and the bar, the private playrooms and public ones. The dungeon was in the basement as was fitting, and she hated it. It was clean and well done, but it was dark and menacing. Only certain members had the code to the dungeon, and Graham explained that hard-core BDSM was allowed only on certain occasions when he or Patrick were available for monitoring and extra security provided. Collaring ceremonies were held there, and sometimes branding took place. Graham confirmed that piercing and tattooing were also services that were provided. Kennedy made it clear to Graham that she would never attend anything in the dungeon, and he didn’t argue.
“Do you like working there, Graham?” she asked.
He shrugged. “If Patrick can’t, I fill in. I’m not into breaking skin and making people bleed, honey. Patrick brings in Doms who are into that and are good at it.”
Kennedy shivered, and he hugged her. “I won’t work the dungeon anymore, honey. Promise.”
Graham took her to the atrium for coffee, and she felt his arousal. It had waned in the dungeon, and she was glad of that. Her own had disappeared, but she knew Graham was now thinking about her ass. She was, too, to be honest, the butt plug having been removed in the shower that morning under Graham’s interested care after some water sports because her labia were healed. He had then suggested an anal douche with such a hopeful look that Kennedy acquiesced. Alone. With the door locked. Who knew with these pervs? Now she was antsy and full of anticipation, and Graham probably sensed it just like she was attuned to him.
“Honey, we need a nap,” he suggested.
“My place?” she asked, hopefully.
“How about if we christen my, our quarters?” he asked.
“I guess,” she agreed. She wanted to try this, but still…
Graham didn’t leave her time to think on it. He hustled her to his suite and had them both out of their clothes in record time.
“On the bed, sideways, Kennedy, with a pillow under your belly,” he ordered as he disappeared into the bathroom, his cock straining at his own belly.
* * * *
Graham returned to the bedroom and simply stopped. His woman was spread over a pillow, her bottom in the air, her legs apart. Her glorious hair flowed around her shoulders and spilled onto the white sheets. She looked beautiful and incredibly sexy. He ached to ream her and dug deep for utter control. He had to make this the very best experience if he wanted to fuck her ass in the future. And he most certainly did.
He stroked Kennedy’s back from her shoulders to her thighs, loving her tiny shudders, until she relaxed. Then he spread the lube over her anus, carefully pushing the nozzle inside to fill her up. She opened to his finger, and he began to stretch her, first with one, then two fingers, opening her. The plug had done the
job, for she wasn’t tensing at all.
“Honey, relax, push back and outward,” he told her.
“Yeah, yeah, I remember. C’mon, Graham, I’m done with this waiting.”
Graham’s eyebrows arched into his hair. All right then. He fitted his cock to her rosebud and pushed without pause. He slid right past the muscle and in deep, the lube smoothing the way. She felt so hot and tight. She lay placid and relaxed under him, and he enjoyed the moment. Most women would be fighting it, bucking, and it took away from the sensation. Kennedy was a gem. Then she clenched, and he nearly winced at the pressure.
“Graham, you have the cock, remember?” Kennedy’s voice was strained and impatient.
Graham pulled back and nearly out of her body then surged back in, over and over. Kennedy arched back into him and moaned and whimpered into the bedding, her fists clenching. Graham went for broke. He pulled all the way out and shoved back inside several times, then waited for her opening to nearly close before doing it again. Kennedy was screaming by then and rocking against the pillow. He surged deep, his balls slamming against her labia. He forced a hand between them. Kennedy’s hand was already there, and they dueled for contact with her clit. Graham shoved a finger up her when she won the contest and bellowed his own release as she went over, her muscles squeezing the life out of him. Holy fuck. He couldn’t breathe, and his temples had probably burst.
Graham slid beside her, their combined sweat making little slurpy sounds as his skin parted from hers. She lay there, splayed, sucking in air. After a time, Graham pushed himself up and staggered to the bathroom to clean up. Kennedy was fast asleep when he got back, but he washed her, too, and pressed a kiss to the small of her back. He worked her little frame up farther and climbed in beside her, wrapping an arm around her sweaty belly, simply enjoying his good fortune. He loved this little woman. His little woman. She was the whole package.
* * * *
The next several months were a learning experience for everyone. Patrick found it difficult to relinquish any part of the business at first, despite wanting to have more time alone with Madison. He and Kennedy squared off on many occasions until she earned his trust. Then, perhaps with the relief of knowing things were getting done properly and on time with only his minimal direction and attention to those matters requiring it, Patrick backed off.
Kennedy was amazed at the number of holdings Patrick had, and arranging more efficient records streamlined his business. She privately wondered if Graham knew how successful and wealthy Patrick was but kept Patrick’s business confidential from everyone, including Madi. She and Madi saw one another mostly in the morning when Graham and Patrick were sleeping after working all night, and she relished the personal time with her friend. Alberta had moved in with her “switch” and seemed oblivious to any of the other people in her world. Madi was hurt by Ally’s abandonment, but Kennedy was far more understanding and less impacted. Ally would be back once the novelty wore off, and Madi would forget how hurt she had been until Alberta pulled the same shit the next time. Although, Patrick might have something to say about that friendship. Kennedy wouldn’t allow anyone to control her life the way Patrick did Madi’s, but Madison had never appeared so content and happy. She actually gained a few pounds and, while she still looked tremendous, no longer had that frenetic manner about her. Madi was in love, was well loved and cherished. Kennedy ignored her own envy. She had fallen in love with Graham, probably the day he tended to her sunburn and sore feet. She would never have given up her apartment, sold off the few things she had kept from her childhood because they wouldn’t fit in the living quarters at the club, and cancelled her job interviews and refused the offer she had received from the oil company, unless she was willing to take a chance on a long-term relationship with Graham. Because she loved him. She liked the sex and some of the kink, but it was the whole man who drew her. He seemed to be just who he appeared to be, a take me as you find me kind of guy, and honest, caring, and fair. Kennedy had figured out that Graham lived for the present and the future. She loved him without reserve and trusted him wholeheartedly.
They fought from time to time, and she was aware that the whole club knew about their disagreements. The odd time it was because Graham pushed her too hard and wouldn’t listen until she tuned him in, but mostly it was about his tendency to meddle in her life and choices. He didn’t tell her what to wear. The club had a dress code, so she really only needed a couple of casual changes and a nice evening outfit for those occasions when they had time off together. He didn’t tell her how to invest or save her money. He didn’t tell her how to wear her hair or what makeup to use. It was more his assumption that he always knew what was best for her. If Kennedy was totally honest with herself all the time, she would likely concur with Graham. He always had her best interest at heart. It was just his highhanded Dom attitude that accompanied his meddling. But they argued, then they worked it out and were happy together. If Kennedy wanted more from the relationship, she closed her mind to it. Graham would tell her he loved her if and when he meant it. She wouldn’t be the first woman in history to be patient and wait for her man to tumble to that fact. Kennedy had always taken risks, and while she knew that being rejected by Graham would devastate her, she was willing to take the chance that he would never do so.
Graham tended to paddle her ass when she didn’t speak up, when she didn’t ask for what she needed, when she retreated from him in anger or with hurt feelings. It felt strange to be forced to communicate because of a spanking, but the makeup sex was even better. He kept trying to introduce her to the lifestyle in tiny increments, and Kennedy sometimes went along, although her rules were hard and fast. No cameras, no observers. Sex, even kinky sex, with Graham was personal and intimate. He never challenged her rules until one evening a few months after she had moved in. Graham convinced her to allow him to put her on the St. Andrew’s cross.
Kennedy had had a long, tiring day sorting out some issues with one of Patrick’s side businesses. She personally didn’t think the IT company was worth the time and effort. Techs were a bunch of prima donnas by the very dint of their profession. They didn’t take direction well, mostly because they didn’t listen, being too focused on their technology. Patrick expected the staff to fall in line, and it was like a thorn in his side. Kennedy had finally worked out a compromise but knew it would be an uneasy truce. She had joined Graham for a quiet dinner in the club atrium, and he decided she should relax. Kennedy knew what that meant to Graham. She would have preferred a long soak in the hot tub, followed by a massage and maybe some vanilla sex. But not Graham. She was too tired to think up convincing excuses, and the next thing she knew she was naked and bound to the cross. She had resisted it so far, although had made the acquaintance of the spanking bench and the stocks. She didn’t really like the paddle, although the soft flogger touched her somehow.
“If you hurt me, Graham, I’ll wait until you are dead asleep and you won’t like what you’ll wake up to,” she threatened.
Graham laughed. He was wearing his leathers and nothing else, as he circled her and examined her naked form.
“Threats from a woman hanging, restrained on the cross, honey. Tsk, tsk.” He chortled.
Kennedy watched as he took a huge dildo from the wall cabinet. Oh boy. That was going to stretch her a little. He lubed it and filled her. Kennedy gasped and took some time to adjust, while Graham played with her breasts. She had just settled when he showed her the nipple clamps.
“Babe, not those, not now, please,” she nearly whined.
She had a log up her pussy, and he was going to flog her next. Enough. Graham suckled her until her nipples were elongated enough to take the clover clamps. Kennedy hissed at the pain, arching and trying to dislodge him. He gently licked the tips, and the pain diminished and a warm flush replaced it, spreading down over her belly to her sex. Kennedy waited for the blindfold, but Graham must have thought the sensations were enough for her to experience without it. He stepped behind h
er, and she heard the whistle of the single tail. Holy shit. He was going to lash her. Not whip her with those nice, supple leather tails of the flogger.
“Graham!” she screamed. “Not…”
The first lash hit her shoulder, and a fine line of warmth and sting lanced across it. The second followed before she could take another breath to demand that he stop. The third, fourth, and fifth were laid in increments down her back to her buttocks, and by then Kennedy wasn’t counting anymore, just feeling. Her vagina, stretched as it was, clenched hard on the rubber toy, and her nipples pulsed. She felt alive and rejuvenated and wondered at it. Her plan to fix Graham’s wagon later might have contributed, but when he began to lay stripes across her buttocks, Kennedy found herself going someplace else. Intellectually, she knew it was endorphins creating the high and, for a moment, panicked. She was afraid of dissociating. But that was when she was alone. Graham was here with her. She would be okay. So she gave over to the moment. When he came around to lash her breasts and belly, Kennedy was moaning for the touch, nearly begging. She wanted to come, to experience it all, and vaguely heard Graham promising her soon.
She felt the presence of someone else in the room, and her eyes flew open. Graham was striping her back and buttocks again, more fiercely, and her concentration was slipping as she arched and begged. Patrick was there, in front of her, his eyes hot and admiring. Kennedy wanted to tell him to get out, to leave, that she was naked for God’s sake, but he reached to her sex and held the vibe in his hand to her clit while Graham laid a final hard lash across her thighs. Kennedy shattered into a million pieces and seconds later went over again when Patrick released the clamps as Graham wrapped his arms around her waist to support her.
When Kennedy next opened her eyes, she was cuddled on Graham’s lap. He was kissing her hair and murmuring nonsense. She was exhausted if relaxed, although her nipples were sore and her skin tingled and felt tight. Graham lifted her and strode to their quarters. Kennedy just knew the security guard was getting an eyeful and that they probably passed clients in the hallway, but she didn’t care at that moment. Graham set her on the bed on her side and left for a moment to return with a cool, soothing lotion that he smoothed over her breasts and belly. He then addressed the skin on her back, buttocks, and thighs.
Young, Allyson - Wishes (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 9
