Elemental Desire

by Denise Tompkins

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Seth fought the urge to lash out. He counted in on five and out on seven before looking at Griff. “It’s not her.”

  “You’re sure.”

  “I asked. She denied.”

  “And magic practitioners, the mercenary lot of them, are all about the honesty,” Griff drawled.

  “The witch had a distinct smell that Red’s lacking, both that and the power behind the punch. No one can subdue that much power.”

  The subjectively smaller man crossed his arms over his chest and looked Seth over through narrowed eyes. “Are you staying here or leaving?”

  “Don’t know for sure.”

  “Keep your cell handy.”

  “Fuck off.” Seth took a couple of steps before pausing and, without looking back, added, “And Griff?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  With a sharp nod, Seth moved down the bar to meet Red where she waited—at the pass-thru, just as directed. He slid his hand under her long auburn hair and steered her toward the dark door marked Private without a word.

  She went, her steps admirably steady, her gait fluid and self-assured.

  Didn’t change the fact he knew she was a novice at this. She hadn’t been through a scene, though. As a Dom, it was his job to know. As a sub, it was her job to help set the boundaries of safe, sane and consensual play. He doubted she’d know enough to help set those parameters. It was one of the reasons—the many, many reasons—he never played with an untried sub. They had the highest expectations. They were typically the most emotional. They also tended to safe-word out more often than not, thus preventing him from achieving his own end. What had prompted him to take her on? He wasn’t sure. But it was done. He’d do his best to take her proverbial virginity gently.

  Probably.

  At the moment? All he could think of was how beautifully that ass would pink up when corrected.

  And correct it he would.

  * * *

  Eden risked a glance at the lithe, predatory man directing her through the crowd. A dark smile played at the corners of his full mouth. Goddess preserve her. The things she wanted to do to him were painted through her mind in vibrant colors.

  His assertion she was a submissive, would be his submissive, still had her rattled. Oh, she hadn’t let on. Not really. She’d expected something like this when she’d swallowed her fear and sought him out. But she hadn’t ever been a sub before. Hell, she didn’t even know how to serve as a sub. The whole alternative-lifestyle thing fascinated her, but short of reading a handful of erotic novels and a little internet research, she had no idea what to do with herself. More than anything, she wanted to know what it felt like to have someone drive her to new heights, make her experience the fascinating convergence of pleasure and pain.

  They pushed through an unobtrusive door. Beyond that lay a long hallway. Industrial beige tiles made up the floor. Walls were the color of bland oatmeal. At the end of the hall stood an elevator. She’d barely taken in everything when he keyed in a code to a heavy wooden door and steered her inside.

  The room was dark, lit only by the muted red glow of the exit sign. When the door shut with a muffled whump, Eden’s heart lodged at the top of her throat. Her tongue turned to dust. Air moved behind her seconds before firm hands traced down her arms. Mouth settling next to her ear, his breathing was steady. Hers? Hers was so not.

  “Nervous?”

  She opened her mouth, intent on denying the allegation thinly veiled as a question. The hand that wound through her hair and hauled her head back shocked her into absolute silence.

  “I’ll tolerate a bit of stubbornness because you don’t know better, but you won’t lie to me, Red. Not without consequence.”

  “That’s not my name,” she whispered, sliding her gaze his way.

  A Cheshire-cat grin split the darkness. “Tonight it is.”

  Air became a precious commodity she couldn’t buy enough of, no matter what mental card she swiped. Looking up into eyes as tempting as original sin, Eden heard herself whisper, “Yes, sir.”

  Total silence ruled the moment. He molded his body to her curves and lowered his face. “Good place to start. I want to establish the parameters of play before we take it any further.”

  “Parameters?” The question sounded slow, even to herself.

  “Yes, Red. Parameters.” Pulling her even tighter, he kicked her feet apart. “Uncomfortable?”

  “Uncomfortable?” she repeated.

  He turned her toward him. Cupping her face, in one hand, he reached over her shoulder.

  She flinched before blinking into blinding light.

  “I don’t hit women, Red.” He stroked her chin. “If that’s why you sought me out, you picked the wrong guy.”

  Wrapping one hand around his wrist, she fisted his shirt with the other. “I got who I came for, but not what. Not yet.”

  He stilled, distrust coiling through him and prickling against her skin. “Care to explain?”

  Squeezing the words out was nearly impossible. “I needed to find out what it was like.”

  “What what’s like?”

  Lips numb, she wanted to rub life and feeling into them, was afraid to accidentally touch him. “The experience.” Somehow she knew he heard what she didn’t say, that she was wildly curious about herself and what really flipped her switch.

  “What makes you think I’m your answer?”

  Her only excuse was hormonally fueled determination. Otherwise? She never would have pulled his shirt out of his pants and scraped his ribs with her fingernails. His sharp intake of breath was followed by a slow hiss. Things low in her belly rolled over, begging to be stroked. A short jerk of his hips made her lips part on an exhale, her hands scrabbling to unbutton his silk shirt. He gripped her wrists, stopping her desperate scramble to divest him of clothes and get down to business. Confused, she looked up.

  “Not yet, Red. Parameters. Where do you draw the hard lines I don’t cross?”

  “Lines?”

  He closed his eyes and sighed. “My first directive was that you meet me at the end of the bar. You complied. Second directive is that you stop repeating every question I ask. Be a good girl and I’ll see you’re rewarded.”

  Eden nodded so hard her earrings clinked. “Yes, sir,” she repeated, knowing it had pleased him moments ago. Swallowing a little pride could pay off handsomely.

  “Let’s discuss boundaries. Where I’m concerned, no touching unless invited. You haven’t earned intimacy yet.” And you won’t. “That’s about it. What about you?”

  Heat blazed across her cheeks. “I’m…not sure?”

  “Okay. Let’s try this. Tell me one of your fantasies.”

  Oh, dear goddess. “Fantasies?” Realizing her mistake, she slapped a hand over her mouth and mumbled, “Sorry.”

  “Too late, sweetheart. Skirt up over your ass and grab the edge of the desk,” he said, even as he moved her into position.

  “But I apologized.” The nearly shouted objection brought him to a standstill.

  “Yes, but you still violated my directive. One swat for the minor infraction.” Smooth fingers traced up the back of her thighs as he lifted her short skirt. “A thong. I approve.”

  Eden watched him pull a pair of scissors from the desk drawer. Before she could form an objection, he dragged the cold metal along her ass and snipped the lace, tugging the scrap of material free. The trace of soft material over her skin, the hard scrape of nails down her thighs and the brush of lace hitting her ankles when it fell made her sway. Lips followed the same path upward. Smooth kisses, a tactile tongue, little nips—they made her knees weak. The sharp crack of his palm on her ass elicited a surprised yelp. Masculine fingers traced the sting, and she moaned. At the sound, his fingers briefly dug into her ass and made her push into his hand. What. The. Hell. Never had someone turned her on so quickly, so effortlessly. She wanted what he offered. Didn’t understand the compuls
ion to satisfy him. “Why?” she asked, the single word forming an unsteady question that hung between them long enough that she was sure he’d ignore her. Then he answered.

  “You have a gift, Red. You started the descent into subspace when I grabbed you by the neck in the club. Most submissives have to be taught to find that place inside themselves. You’re a natural.”

  “You think I haven’t done this before?”

  “No.”

  She relaxed.

  “I know you haven’t.” Stepping in behind her, his unfurling zipper made the most erotic noise she’d ever heard. The broad head of his cock brushed over the crevice of her ass.

  Eden flinched. “Maybe not…that.”

  “That?” The amusement in his tone was clear. “And what is ‘that,’ precisely?”

  Burying her face in her forearms seemed prudent. “Anal.”

  “Ah. Anal. One of my favorite things. Shame you aren’t interested.”

  That was something she wasn’t willing to share. Not the physical act, but the fact she was interested.

  Very, very interested.

  Chapter Three

  Seth managed to coax out rudimentary boundaries from his new partner. He intended to oblige her in ways she couldn’t begin to contemplate. She was all about sex. So was he. Achieving orgasm was her first course of business. He favored delivering multiples. Lucky girl.

  She knew nothing about aftercare, had looked at him blankly when he’d asked her about it. This was why he didn’t play with untried subs. They tended to end up emotional, clingy. He didn’t do clingy. Hell, he went out of his way to intentionally avoid all things emotional. Physical gratification was the payoff he wanted, the payoff straight vanilla didn’t deliver. This was the equivalent of Scharffen Berger dark chocolate. The gods knew he was here to eat and leave, not ruin said chocolate by trying to bake cupcakes and discuss feelings over coffee at sunrise. And now he was thinking in baking metaphors. Taking a new submissive through the exploration process was clearly making him insane.

  Stepping back to create some much-needed physical distance, he dropped his chin to his chest. “On your knees.”

  “Why?”

  He looked up slowly, fighting the urge to rush. “Because I told you to do it.”

  “But why?”

  A dull throbbing took up a steady rhythm at the base of his skull. Headache. At least, he thought it was a headache. He’d never had one, had only heard humans bitch about them. He tried mentally repeating “uneducated sub,” but it didn’t stop the irritation from leaking into his tone. “You do what the Dom running the scene orders you to do.”

  “Oh.” She considered him. “But what if I don’t want to?”

  “Then you don’t want to do this badly enough, we say our goodbyes and I show you out so you can find someone better to play with.” Pain lanced his chest hard enough that he glanced down. Nothing there. Strange.

  “You always threaten to pull out?” Realizing what she’d said, she blushed and looked away.

  He grasped her chin tight enough he knew the hold wasn’t comfortable. Her eyes glazed slightly as he pulled her forward. “To answer the question as posed, I’ll tell you I’m not interested in breeding trouble, so yes, I always pull out if the long-term consequences aren’t worth the momentary pleasure.” He leaned in and brushed a soft kiss over her lips as he tightened his hold even more.

  She whimpered.

  “On. Your. Knees.” Taking her in as she knelt before him, he blinked, slowly and contemplatively. Poor little miwsher, or kitten. No doubt she’d get what she wanted. And then some. In the interest of sexual equality, though, so would he.

  She eyed the brilliant Marker that labeled him an Otherworlder—a multihued flame springing from the root of his cock to climb up and lick at his belly button. When she opened her mouth to undoubtedly ask about it, he interrupted with, “It’s a tat,” and followed with a hard, fast kiss.

  His fingers slid through her heavy hair, pushing the mass away from her forehead. Long bangs that had been swept to the side feathered across her eyes. When she reached up to move them out of her face, Seth tightened his fingers and stilled her head with controlled force. Tilting her face back forced her to meet his gaze. “You agree to the terms we’ve outlined?”

  “Y-yes.” A satisfied sigh escaped her, her warm, moist breath whipping around the head of his burgeoning hard-on.

  “I’ll put you through your paces once. If you satisfy me, we’ll take this upstairs.” He absently stroked the pad of one thumb over her temple, stilling his hand when he caught the affectionate gesture. “Understand?”

  “Yes.” No hesitation this time.

  “Good girl.” The heavy length of his erection stood out from his body, twitching and bobbing as he grew more turgid. Feet spread, he unbuttoned his shirt and fisted the silk, pulling it aside. “Let’s put that beautiful mouth to use.”

  The nymph stared up at him, grey eyes dark with desire. The way they widened telegraphed her uncertainty in no uncertain terms. “You want me to—”

  “Suck my cock, Red. I’ll issue your directives and you’ve got an out if the request is unreasonable. Otherwise? I don’t expect to have to spell out every single command.” Shifting his weight, he settled his ass on the edge of his desk and waited.

  “May I touch you?”

  “May I touch you, sir,” he corrected.

  “May I touch you, sir.”

  “Below the waist, above the knees. No damage. My definition of damage is anything that draws blood or leaves me with erectile dysfunction, physical or psychological.”

  Her brow furrowed.

  “It was a joke, Red.”

  “Oh.”

  Soft hands, feather-light and tentative, settled on his thighs. Fine vibrations ran across her palms and down her fingers, her grip on him tightening as she moved closer. The pointed tip of her tongue trailed up the underside of his shaft, tracing the ridges and veins and playing around the corona, teasing.

  Seth settled more of his weight on the desk’s edge.

  She settled back and peered at him through thick lashes. “Good?”

  “It will be once you commit.”

  “What do you mean ‘once I commit’?” She slapped a hand over her mouth, the “sorry” muffled but clearly contrite.

  “Nope. On your feet. Bend over the desk. Grip the other side and spread your feet wide enough only your toes touch the floor.” He reached over and, with a single sweep of his arm, cleared the desk. Something broke as it hit the floor. “Now, Red.”

  Scrambling to her feet, she stood bare from the waist down.

  He didn’t remember her losing the shoes. Knew he hadn’t told her to. “Any reason you ditched the footwear?”

  “I—” She paused then clamped her lips together before shaking her head.

  “Put them back on. Clothes come off at my discretion.”

  “And my acquiescence.”

  He arched a brow but inclined his head slightly. “That’s two.”

  Mutiny brewed in her eyes.

  The heavy weight of his testicles made his entire groin ache. If he didn’t get control of the situation, the situation would end up controlling him. That’s how people got hurt. Flashes of memory were illuminated, shifting and drifting to pile up like Polaroids. Snap. Flash. Remember. Hurt. Deflect. Try to forget. Over and over the pattern repeated until he wrested control from his psyche and forced the unwelcome past from the promising present. Only fools repeated unsavory mistakes. That’s all Anahita had been—a mistake.

  Cold sweat stole over his torso. The air conditioner kicked on with little more than a soft tick. Stale, refrigerated air moved through the quiet hush of the office, the only competing noise that of Red’s breathing and his own erratic heartbeat.

  “Step it up.” The command was hoarse. He cleared his throat, parked his hands on his hips. If he couldn’t get it together any better than this, he might as well cash in his chips and leave her to play at someo
ne else’s table, as promised. His pecs twitched, and he fought the urge to snarl at no one. And nothing.

  Red studied him but kept her mouth shut.

  Wise woman.

  He wondered if she’d comply or go for more physical resistance. Part of him craved that—the physical act, and art, of dominance. He waited. When she didn’t move, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Three.”

  One corner of her mouth curled.

  The minor response whipped his passion higher. When she moved casually to assume the commanded position, he stepped in behind her and kicked her feet so wide her hips were forced to take her weight. Lying across her, he pressed the length of his cock into the seam of her sex. Short-stroking her, he rubbed forward and back. His hands closed over her wrists and stretched her out even farther. The head of his cock nearly breached her sheath with his next forward thrust. Seth struggled to hold his tongue. All he wanted to do was praise her, to lose himself in her body and find mindless release.

  His element roared in his head, loud and demanding. Possessive. Mine. The moment Seth acknowledged the feeling, his element settled to a simmering burn.

  Not this. Not now. She couldn’t be his El Nar, or Flame Keeper. “Oh, gods.”

  His broken whisper had Red turning to look at him. “Do not tell me you’re going to puss out on me.”

  The sound of his molars grinding together was amplified in the silence of his head. “Puss. Out.”

  “Just sayin’.”

  Stroking his middle finger through her wet heat, he grasped the back of her neck and ignored her soft mewl of need. The first crack of his hand on her ass, gentle as it was, made her gasp, the shuddering breath escaping her quickly. She focused on something Seth couldn’t see. The second swat quickly followed the first, but was stronger. Her skin pinked as beautifully as he’d anticipated.

  He raised his hand again, but instead of delivering the third, stinging blow as promised, he found himself tracing the outline of his handprint. Such diametrically opposed sensations. The imprint radiated heat while the as-yet untouched globe of her other ass cheek was cool.

  She couldn’t be his Keeper.

  She just couldn’t.