by Eden Bradley
She knew she was moaning, mewling. She didn’t care. She couldn’t.
Then he was kissing her hands, over and over, and it was a new kind of pleasure, so amazing…but she couldn’t think about it, couldn’t think about anything. She curled into his chest, and he let her lay her head against his chest. She drifted off to the steady, low drumming of his heartbeat.
It was a few hours later when she woke, wrapped in a soft blanket on the couch. He was next to her in an instant.
“How do you feel?”
“Sleepy. Good. Like I need to stretch all over.”
“You should, tomorrow, anyway. It’ll be good for you. Will you remember to do it?”
“Yes. Probably.”
“Do it, Skye. I’ll ask.”
She laughed. “Okay, then.”
“Are you thirsty? Hungry?”
“Thirsty.”
He handed her a small bottle of juice. “Drink. I want you to hydrate and to keep your blood sugar steady.”
She accepted the bottle, swallowed a few sips of the sweet juice.
“Good?”
She nodded, drank some more.
“Now tell me if you think you’re okay to go home.”
“Yes, of course.”
“The same rule still stands when it comes to sub-drop. If you crash, you call me. Don’t be stubborn about it. This is as crucial as using your safe word. But I’ll call you tomorrow, anyway.”
She nodded.
“Let’s get you dressed.”
He helped her into her clothes, which, oddly, she found she needed. And it was so nice to have his hands on her, even in this simple way. It was…sweet, which wasn’t a word she’d have thought to use about him.
He drove her home, music playing quietly in the car, the San Francisco fog drifting by outside the windows. She felt safe, cocooned with him in his car.
She must have dozed off for a bit because suddenly he was saying her name, bringing her out of a dream about laying in his lap while he stroked her hair from her face, whispering to her.
“What?”
“I said you’re home.”
“Oh.” She had a momentary flutter of disappointment.
“Skye, look at me.” He took her chin in his hand, turned her to face him. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Fine. I’m sorry I fell asleep.”
“Don’t apologize. It wasn’t your sleeping that made me ask. I saw something in your expression.”
“I’m…just trying to wake up.”
“Skye.” His tone was stern.
“And…I’m just a little…let down that it’s over.”
He grinned at her. “There’s my girl.”
My girl.
Ah, what a lovely shiver that sent through her.
She smiled. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
He came around to her side of the car and helped her out, walked her up to her apartment as he had before. And as he had before, he made her promise again to call him if she felt panicky or stressed, then checked with her to make sure she felt okay before he kissed her cheek and left.
She was okay. Wasn’t she?
It had been a wonderful evening. There were a few things going on in her head she needed to sort out, but not tonight. She was so tired. Apparently kink took a lot out of a person.
She undressed, taking off her garter belt and bra and bringing them into bed with her, just to have some of the experience with her. Some of him, maybe.
Yes, an amazing evening. He was an amazing man. An amazing Dom. She couldn’t have asked for more going into this.
Her body was still humming with pleasure, with the loose-limbed sensation of a body well-used. She loved it.
She had no idea where her thong had ended up, she realized, smiling to herself as she drifted into sleep.
~ * ~
NINE
Adam had called the day after their night together, as promised—and each day since. They’d talked about the projects each of them were working on, compared art galleries they’d been to—it turned out they both loved the surrealists and black and white photography—food they loved, even argued over films they’d seen. Somehow he always won the arguments. There was something attractive about the fact that he was so intelligent—intelligent enough to take her on and change her mind about a few things. She realized then that one issue she’d too often had with the men she’d dated was that they weren’t quite smart enough. She knew now she needed a man who was smarter than she was in order to respect him in the way a man should be respected. And his mind turned her on as much as his big, beautiful body did, his lush mouth, the wicked glint in his eyes. His even more wicked hands.
They made plans for Tuesday evening, and she could hardly wait. Once more she made a ritual out of getting ready, and she understood she was really preparing herself for him.
Dressed this time in the simple knit sheath dress he’d asked for—demanded—and a pair of black stiletto-heeled boots, she stood in front of his door once more. She clenched her fingers, her pulse racing with excitement, a little fear at what he might do to her. And a damp heat already spreading between her thighs.
He opened the door as soon as she knocked, dressed all in evil black, which she was coming to understand was classic Dominant garb. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as he pulled her inside, into his embrace, and held her for several moments.
He whispered into her hair, “Beautiful, as always, Skye. Come with me.”
She laughed a little. “There’s no conversation? No preamble? Just going right into it?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Yes.”
The way he said it offered no room for argument or even a reply, and she knew the scene had just started. The heat spread into her belly, her limbs, as he took her coat. She found she didn’t want to talk anymore.
When he took her hand and led her into the dining room she followed with her head bowed, her body absolutely on fire already.
The light in the dining room was dim, but she could still see the carved legs of the antique dining table. All of the chairs had been pulled away to ring the edge of the room. No artwork in this room, just enormous, ornately-framed mirrors on every wall. On a heavy, antique sideboard tall silver candelabra held ivory tapers, the flames making the shadows dance.
He turned to her. “Take your clothes off, Skye. And get on the table.”
“Wh—what?” Her legs went weak.
“Shh. Just do it.”
He reached out and slid his hand around the back of her neck, heating her skin instantly. Her body filled with the aching need to please him, the ache that had been left to build all week.
She began to remove her clothing, her hands shaking. Her mind was emptying out, allowing her to do this, to let go. And with the last shred of reason she realized it was Adam’s mere presence which was doing this to her head.
Soon she was naked and he was smiling down at her, his smoky blue eyes glittering in the candlelight. He moved in closer, until she could feel the heat emanating from him, the faint, male scent of him making her dizzy. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaled, trying to steady herself
“Get up on the table now, Skye. Come, I’ll help you.”
He took her hand, steadied her while she climbed onto the cool, wood surface.
“Lie on your back,” he told her, pushing her down just enough for her to understand completely that he was in control.
The table was hard against her back, hard and silky at the same time. And she felt as naked as she ever had in her life. Naked and strangely beautiful. Even more so when Adam began to run his hands over her body—her stomach, her thighs, her arms. They finally closed around her wrists, where he stroked the tender skin there for a few moments before he lifted one and locked it into a thick leather cuff.
She gasped.
“It’s alright, Skye. Trust me. The binding will only free you more.”
By the time he’d cuffed both wrists and ankles and clipped
the cuffs to long black ropes attached to the legs of the table her heart was racing. But the vee between her thighs was soaked and pulsing with need. She pulled on the cuffs, testing them. She couldn’t move, her arms and legs spread wide.
She shivered.
She groaned.
She loved it.
He stood over her, stroking her skin again, his touch lighting tiny fires of desire all over her. When he took her nipples between his fingers and rolled them, she sighed with pleasure. When he pinched them hard, she moaned in pain. But it all felt good. He kept at it, tugging, pinching. Sensation shot through her body, her sex. She wished he would use those clever fingers between her legs.
Please…
He gathered her breasts in his hands, pushing them together.
“Too damn perfect,” he muttered. Then he let her go and turned away.
She had one small moment of panic simply because he was no longer touching her. But soon he was back. He leaned in close to her face and told her, “Stay as still as you can, Skye. This is going to hurt.”
He watched her pupils widen at his threatening words—exactly the effect he’d been after. Not that it was a lie, of course. It was going to hurt.
He pulled from his pocket a tiny red plastic clothespin and held it up so Skye could see what was in his hand.
“I picked these up at a craft store. Amazing the things one can find there. Or in a supermarket, a hardware store. Pervertibles, I like to call them, these everyday objects that can so easily be turned into instruments of torture.”
“Oh…”
“Quiet, Skye. Take a deep breath. That’s it.”
She was scared, he could see, but she was following his instructions, fighting the fear. Slipping deeper into subspace the moment she’d seen the little clothespin.
Leaning over her bound body, he smoothed a few fingers over the soft skin at the edge of her left breast. An exquisitely sensitive area, he knew. He pinched the skin together lightly between his fingers, pulled a bit, and fastened the tiny clothespin there. He smiled when she sucked in a sharp breath.
“Breath into it, Skye. It’ll get a bit worse before it gets better. I’m going to put a lot more of these on you.”
He pulled a few more of the pins from his pocket and created a small arc of them down the side of her breast. Every pin caused a small, satisfying gasp. He loved the sound of it, that whisper-soft noise coming from between her plump, pink lips. And lord, those lips…all he could think of when he looked at her mouth was pushing his cock in, fucking that lush mouth. His cock filled, hardened.
Control.
It seemed he always needed to remind himself with her. He’d thought this would be easier, without her hot little body pressed against him. But it didn’t seem to matter. Just looking at her was challenging his self-control.
Focus.
He moved in again and began a line of the wicked little pins down the side of her right breast. By the time he was done she was panting hard. He stepped back to look at his handiwork.
“Beautiful.”
And she was. So fucking beautiful he could hardly stand to look at her. Bound to the table, her legs spread wide so that he could see her pink pussy lips, slick with need and inviting as hell. And the pins pinching her skin. He knew it hurt, could see it in the dilation of her eyes, in the sharp rhythm of her breath. He wanted to hurt her. He wanted to bring her pleasure. He wanted to do everything to her.
For her.
He slipped a hand between her thighs and right into the heat of her. She was like hot silk inside. What would his cock feel like wrapped up in that slippery heat?
He pumped his fingers into her, pressed onto her hard little clit with his thumb, making her squirm. Then he pulled the first pin off.
She yelped.
“Yes, I know it hurts, worse coming off than going on. The blood is rushing back into your skin. I know how bad it is, but it’s good at the same time, isn’t it, Skye?”
Good for him, too. He had to fight to still his aching cock. His fingers were still wrapped in her gorgeous, tight cunt.
Lord.
“Yes…” She groaned, her head thrashing from side to side.
“You can handle it. I promise you.” He leaned in and brushed a kiss over her hot cheek. “It’s about to get much worse.”
He pulled another pin off, and this time, rather than waiting for her to ride the pain out, immediately pulled off two more. She arched up off the table. He plunged his fingers deep into her.
“Oh!”
“Yes, pain and pleasure, all at the same time.” He caught her face in his free hand, held her chin, forcing her to look at him. Her golden brown eyes were glowing. “You love it, don’t you, Skye? Tell me you want more.”
“Yes…,” she panted. “Please, Adam.”
The pant turned into a whimpering cry when he circled her clit with his thumb, pressing down. He took another pin off.
“Oh…oh, oh, oh…”
He pumped his fingers into her, pulling off the last few pins in rapid succession. She was crying out, over and over, her sex clenching around his fingers. And as she came into his hand he leaned in and crushed his mouth to hers. He needed her so damn much at that moment. Needed her to come into his mouth, to drink in her breath, to taste the sweetness of her. She thrashed beneath him, as much as she was able to in her tight bonds. His cock was so hard he thought he might burst. He thrust his tongue into her hot little mouth, pumped into her tight, clasping pussy with his fingers. And almost came apart as she came and came.
It seemed like forever before she was able to catch her breath. And Adam kept kissing her—tiny, hot kisses over her cheeks, her lips, her eyelids. When she was finally able to open her eyes and look at him, his whole expression was soft, somehow, almost as if he’d climaxed with her. His eyes were dark and gleaming, his mouth as bruised-looking as she knew her own must be. He frankly looked undone. Shocking, to see him like this.
Her heart surged. All she wanted was to be in his arms.
“Adam…”
He looked at her almost helplessly, shaking his head. “If I uncuff you now, Skye, I am bound to do something I’ll regret, and maybe you will, too.” He paused, ran a hand back over his hair. “Fuck me, but I am barely hanging on right now.”
“Don’t hang on. Let it go, Adam, just as you told me to. I have. And I need you.” How was she able to even put a coherent sentence together? She pulled hard against her bonds. “Please,” she begged.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, quickly unbuckling the cuffs from her wrists, massaging them, then doing the same with her ankles. He leaned over her. “Are you okay, Skye? I need to know. I need…” he shook his head.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down, planting a firm kiss on his mouth.
He pulled back. The look on his face was pure shock, and she wondered for a moment if he might be angry with her, if she’d been too bold with him. Then his whole expression shifted, his eyes going glassy, color rising in his cheeks.
“God damn it. Damn me,” he murmured before he grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her.
His mouth came down hard on hers. Brutal, crushing. But his lips were soft and warm. His mouth was even softer when he opened hers and his tongue drove inside. His kiss was pure animal need. Frantic. Glorious. She held on while he bruised her with his lips, while they panted into each others’ mouths. It was as though they were one singular, driving need.
He stripped his shirt off without taking his mouth from hers, then his pants. In a moment he was on top of her, skin to skin. The weight of his naked body was the most erotic sensation she’d ever felt. She had never needed anything more.
Her legs went around his wide back and she felt the ridge of a long scar under the tender skin of her left thigh where it pressed against the side of his ribcage. But she forgot all about it when his thick cock probed at the opening between her thighs. And he was kissing her and kissing her, until she couldn’t breat
he, couldn’t think. All she knew was the feel and the scent of him. Him. Finally.
Adam.
They were moving together, their hips grinding, his cock pressing against her mound, burning hot. Her body shook with need, with the pure pleasure of him on top of her, the wet heat of his tongue in her mouth. She needed to come again.
When he shifted and slid the head of his cock into her, her sex clamped hard around him. God, he was big. His cock was a hot, pulsing shaft, paused at the entrance of her needy sex.
He pulled his mouth from hers, looked down into her face. Then, with his gaze locked on hers, he plunged inside.
She was filled, stretched, hurting and delirious with pleasure at the same time. Pleasure shot through her system like wildfire. Her clit pulsed. She was on the edge of climax already. She didn’t think it could get any better until he pulled back, then sank into her body. Her hips moved to meet his. He pulled out, surged into her again, and again she met his thrust. They moved in a primal rhythm, sensation driving through her, a powerful force. She could do nothing but give in.
The pressure built along with the pleasure. He bent his head to bite at her neck, his teeth sharp, nipping at her skin. She gloried in the pain, in the sensation of him marking her. Yes, pure animal. But she was no more than that as she raked her nails down his back, dug in as the first wave of her climax slammed into her. Her sex was on fire, his cock pounding into her over and over. She shattered beneath him, exploding with a molten rush of liquid heat.
The scent of him in her nostrils, the feel of his big body crushing her, it was all part of it. She was coming and coming. He didn’t stop, even when his own climax made every muscle in his body go rigid. He twisted his hands in her hair, and the sound that came out of him was a guttural growl. Still he pumped into her, until she was weak and shivering beneath him.
When he finally stopped she couldn’t move. Her arms were still around his neck, her legs wrapped around him. His cock was still hard inside her. His face was buried in her neck, his breath hot against her skin. She wanted to stay just like this forever. Never wanted him to let her go.
