by Lynda Aicher
She inhaled, the distinctive smell of the leather bench rushing up to distract her from the increasing tangle of fear and anticipation warring within her.
The bench she lay on was just wide enough to support her torso but thin enough that her breasts hung over each edge, making her nipples easily accessible to Jake. He reached for her breast and she closed her eyes. She bit her tongue and resisted flinching when his fingers plucked at the tip. He played with it for a moment, urging the flesh to pucker and bud even tighter until she felt a moan rising in her throat.
The metal was warmed from his hands and the bite instantaneous. She hissed and tensed at the sudden pressure and shot of pain radiating from her nipple. Her hand jerked in an attempt to remove the offending object, but it was halted by the cuff. She could do nothing but focus on the strange pinch and ache that was both painful and enticing.
She cried out when his fingers tugged on the other nipple. She’d been so intent on the new pain she hadn’t realized he’d moved. Soon, both clamps were in place and she groaned at the sheer unaccustomed ache spiraling from her nipples. She press her forehead into the leather padding on the bench, all of her attention forced to her breasts, making her forget about her earlier discomfort at being exposed.
“Beautiful,” Jake said in her ear. He tugged on the connecting chain, which pulled on both nipples and made her groan again. “And this is only the start.”
Cali blinked her eyes open and panted in an attempt to catch her breath. The throbbing eased some, but the rest of her body was completely sensitized. The air brushed against her open pussy, reminding her she was spread open to him and wet.
More than that, she realized she was aching for more. The lower half of her body felt neglected and ignored. She wiggled on the bench, swaying her bottom into the air.
Jake chuckled, a low, sensuous rumble before the sharp slap of his hand bit against her ass. The smack of skin against skin masked her cry of surprise.
“You’ll wait for me, Cali.” Another slap on the other cheek, and the stinging burn fired across her skin, merging to spread down her ass toward her pussy. “Hold still.”
Cali complied. Rationally she knew she should be fighting this. Resisting, using her safe word, running the hell away. But the other her was marveling in the burn as the pain blended with excitement and warmed her entire body.
“I’m going to spank you now.” His hand caressed her ass where he’d just hit her. “I want you to count them. Out loud.”
Count? Right. She licked her lips and forced out a, “Yes, sir.”
“Jake.”
“What?” Her mind tried to process what he meant.
“Yes, Jake,” he said.
Her thoughts were too jumbled to understand the difference, but she repeated his command. “Yes, Jake.”
She swore she heard him growl, but then all her focus went to the sharp smack of his hand against her tender flesh. “One,” she remembered to say, even as his hand hit her again. Her eyes were closed now and she huffed out the next number. He alternated cheeks, hitting first one then the other in a consistent rhythm that had her anticipating when and where the next strike would come.
Her muscles relaxed, her death grip on the handles eased and slowly she floated into the act, giving herself to Jake.
The counting kept her focused, the stinging pain kept her there. But even as the burn built with each slap of Jake’s hand, the heat spread downward along her pussy in a completely unexpected way until she found herself lifting her ass to meet his hand. Her breathing was labored, each number becoming more forced and breathy as she continued to count.
“That’s it,” Jake said, pausing to caress her burning cheeks. The light touch ignited flames across her sensitive nerve endings. “What number are we on?”
God. She couldn’t think. Her brain fuddled to remember, but her mind could only process how she felt. On the strange blend of pleasure and pain that flew from her nipples to her ass to her now wet and needy pussy.
“Cali.” Jake’s sharp command drew her back. He’d asked a question. She was supposed to answer.
“Sixteen,” she mumbled, hoping it was right.
“Wrong.” The censure in his voice was emphasized by the hard thrust of his fingers in her aching sex.
She gasped—the intrusion was sudden and felt so incredibly good. But then it was gone. Like his mouth on her nipples, it was only a tease. The whimper that left her mouth was a sound she couldn’t remember ever making before. She pushed her bottom back as far as her bonds would let her, a silent plea for more.
After a moment of nothing, no words or touch from Jake, Cali angled her head to look at him over her shoulder. His hard gaze caressed her as completely and thoroughly as if he’d run his hands over her. Her body tingled and ached until she gave in and said the words now screaming in her mind. “Please, Jake. Please, touch me.”
A scowl marred the smooth lines of his forehead before he answered. “You owe me ten more for losing count.”
A shudder wracked her body. She had no idea if it was in anticipation or fear. “I...I don’t know if I can,” she finally managed to say.
Then he was there. Tight against her legs, his big palms rubbing over her flaming skin. “You can.” One hand moved between her legs to tease her clitoris. The touch, as light as it was, shot sharp waves of pleasure through her body, making her hands clench and her toes curl. She strained against her bonds, tense and ready to come.
And he was gone.
She collapsed against the bench, every muscle weak from unfulfilled release. Never, in all her fantasies, did she ever expect this intense and complete loss of logical thought. Right then, she could only feel and would do anything to reach the end. Anything to please Jake and find that shattering fulfillment he dangled so elusively before her.
“Are you ready, Cali?”
No. Yes. God. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Yes, Jake.”
She stiffened once again in expectation of the coming strike. He surprised her when he crouched next to her, pushing her tousled hair off her face. Her eyes flew open and her lips parted in a silent gasp. Then his mouth was on hers. All hot, probing and commanding as he controlled the kiss the way he controlled her body.
His tongue battled with her own, and she leaned toward him as much as the restraints would allow. She wanted to touch him. To feel his skin beneath her hands and against her body. He withdrew and she tried to follow until she was unbalanced and tilting precariously on the bench.
“Stop.” His hand on her back halted her movement and he repositioned her until she was safe from sliding off the edge. The leather was slick and sticky beneath her, which she only now noticed. Like the cool air brushing over her heated skin and the musky scent of sex and arousal hanging heavy around them.
Jake stepped behind her. “Ten more.”
Crack. The pain seemed to ricochet through her an instant before the sound rang in her ears. Crack. The heat raced over her skin and fired down to her aching, wanting pussy. Crack. She squirmed on the bench, unsure if she was trying to get away or get closer.
“Let go, Cali.” Jake’s word came to her in a fog, distant yet clear. “Don’t fight it. Let it take you.”
Let it take her.
“Stop resisting. You’re thinking too much. Let go. Feel.”
Thinking? She couldn’t think—that was the problem.
Crack.
Damn. Her body was alight with sensation. Every nerve ending, from her throbbing nipples to her aching ass, quivered. Crack.
It hurt. She couldn’t do it. She bit her lip to hold back the whimper. Crack. Crack. She cried out, the release of sound like a valve on a tea kettle. Her body flew, her mind blanked and she floated. Crack. She drifted, the pain obliterated in the quiet plane of her mind.
Crack. The nipple clamps were suddenly removed and she arched against the instant throb in each tip as the blood rushed into the swollen buds. Before she could think—Crack. A hard smack directly to her
tender, exposed pussy. Fire—hot, threatening, inviting, chased her to the edge until she panted in desperate need.
“Please, Jake,” she begged, not caring how it made her sound.
“Who can give you want you want?”
“You,” she panted, not even hesitating. “Only you.”
He flicked her clitoris. “Come for me, Cali.”
And God, did she. One long, hard plunge over the edge that sent her sailing to a level of bliss she’d never dreamed of. She let go and rode the wave of pure pleasure that shook her to her core. Her back arched, her eyes clenched shut, the sharp intensity of sensation tensing her muscles as it rippled through every cell in her body.
Seconds, minutes, hours later she became aware of strong hands caressing her wrists and ankles as the bindings were removed. Still, she couldn’t move. She was both exhausted and sated in a way that made her smile but prevented movement. She was content to just lie there.
Incoherent sounds drifted to her. The squeak of the cabinet hinges, the scrape of a chair against the floor, the clump of boots over the wood. Distantly she felt the tenderness in her bottom, the tingling of her nipples, the dampness between her legs. She was able to comprehend then that she was still lying spread open on the bench, even though she was no longer tied down. Some portion of her mind registered that this should embarrass her. That she should move.
But she didn’t want to.
Fingers caressed her hair. Strong, attentive fingers that brushed her temple and curled around her ear. She forced her eyes open.
Jake.
The man who’d turned her world upside down for the second time. The one who did this kind of thing for a living.
The moisture built in her eyes before she even realized what was happening. And then, it was too late to stop. The tears spilled over and ran down her face—silent testament to the range of turmoil bursting in her chest.
His eyes were gentle, concerned as they tracked the tears before he reached to wipe them away. An action that only made more tears spill out. She took a shaky breath and he stroked her hair, the comforting act so gentle and contrary to the man he was just moments before.
Who was he, really? Would she ever know? Did she want to?
It took less than a second for the answer to come. Yes. Against her better judgment, she wanted to know this man. Jake. Not the Dom, but the man who could master her one second and soothe her the next. The man who seemed to know this side of her better than she knew herself. Who could push and lead without smothering her. Any man who could do that was worth knowing.
But her mind put a crashing stop on the wayward thoughts with a dose of reality.
This was just a Scene.
Chapter Thirteen
“Come here, Cali,” Jake said softly as he eased his arms beneath her lethargic body and lifted her off the bench. He cradled her and she curled into him as if she wanted to disappear.
He let her.
His boots echoed through the space when he moved to the armless chair he’d positioned in the middle of the room. He sat down and adjusted Cali until she was straddling his legs, her head tucked against his shoulder. He kept his arms wrapped around her and was mindful of her tender bottom. She’d be sore for a while, as unaccustomed as she was to being spanked.
His fingers smoothed her hair and he found himself whispering soothing words into her ear. He felt a wet spot growing on his shirt where her tears continued to fall. This was normal, he reminded himself. A typical crash for a sub after finding subspace and coming with the intensity Cali had.
Normal.
But he couldn’t seem to find the distance he normally had in this instance. Every reaction had wound him in tighter until he’d been so turned on, so tuned into her that any possibility of detachment was obliterated. With her he experienced something besides power. For the first time ever, he felt the intimacy on a level that went deeper than base trust. There was a connection that threatened every emotional wall he’d ever constructed. But with Cali in his arms, in his control, he felt a vague and foreign sense of peace.
He kissed her shoulder, the light hint of salt tempting his tongue. He moved his hand over the damp skin of her back, the other tangling in her hair to hold her closer.
“It’s okay, Cali,” her murmured against her ear. “Let it out.”
Her shoulders shook as she listened to him. He held her until the sobs quieted and her body stilled against his. Her arms were curled under her, crushed between their bodies. He felt her push against his chest.
He tightened his hold. “No.” She stilled. “You don’t get to run this time.”
She inhaled, the skin on his neck tingling against the sharp hiss of her breath. But she remained in his embrace. He continued to caress the heated skin on her back, slow, soothing passes until her muscles relaxed and she sagged against him.
Time passed, but he had no concept of how long they sat like that. Eventually, her heart rate returned to normal, the soft beat thumping against his chest. He reached down next to the chair, pulled a tissue from the box he’d place there and nudged it into her hand.
She took it, a small laugh vibrating against his shoulder. “Thank you.” Her voice was hoarse and throaty from the extended cry. “Did you think of everything?”
“That’s my job.” He didn’t tell her that this, right here, was more than his job.
She leaned back slightly and wiped at her tear-streaked face then blew her nose. She puffed out a laugh. “Not so attractive now, huh?” She wadded the used tissue in her hand and attempted to bury her face into his shoulder.
He didn’t let her hide this time. “Wrong,” he said, holding her away from him. He framed her face and pushed her hair back until he could see her eyes. “You are more beautiful to me now than you have ever been.”
She looked down, obviously not believing what he said. Her face was blotchy, her eyes puffy and red, her makeup smeared, but that’s not what he focused on. What drew him to her. It was her complete and total trust and submission that knocked his knees out from under him.
“Look at me.”
She complied instantly, her eyelids lifting a half second after he spoke. Beautiful. He caressed her jawline as he took in the swirl of emotions held in her eyes. Fear, confusion, desire and there—trust.
“You were fantastic,” he reassured her. “You gave me your trust. That’s beyond gorgeous to me.”
She sniffed and her fists clenched against his chest, but she held his gaze. Did she believe him? Did she really understand how her submission affected him?
For the first time ever, he wanted a sub—Cali—to understand.
“You gave yourself to me. Trusted me to lead you. To give you what you needed, even when you didn’t know what that was.” He took a low breath to steady himself. “Watching you find your space, to reach that place where pain and pleasure blend until that’s all there is... Seeing you give in to the feeling and knowing I brought you there. The moment you flew, I followed.”
The words didn’t seem enough. Didn’t seem adequate in explaining what he felt. But her mouth parted and she lifted trembling fingers to brush over his lips. She searched his eyes, hunting, he was certain, for the truth of his words.
“Why do I trust you?”
The question was rhetorical, an internal thought that slipped out. He stayed quiet and let her ponder, focusing on the light rub of her fingers over his lower lip. On how the touch both tickled and enticed him and oddly drew his attention to her lips. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to suck her fingers into his mouth.
Before he could act, she withdrew them.
His gaze flashed back to hers, but he only caught a glimpse before her mouth covered his. The kiss was hot and searching. Need poured from her and he met it with every thrust of her tongue. Her hands fisted in his hair and pulled until the pain made him flinch, but he let her.
He responded to her aggression with instant arousal. His dick throbbed beneath his pants, hard and aching for
release. In her.
Cali wasn’t just a client.
In truth, she hadn’t been since he first heard his name roll off her lips. Not sir, but Jake. Spoken in deference and passion. And she’d done it without thought or calculation. The honesty of it had echoed through him and struck at the facade he held to. The same barrier that was pushing him to leave. To move on.
She was the only one in all his years in the BDSM world who had ever used his name during a Scene. For the first time ever, this was personal.
Cali rotated her hips and ground against this erection. He bit his tongue and resisted cupping her ass. A fraction of his mind was still able to remember her flesh would be too sore for his grip. Instead, he clenched her hips and held her down as he thrust upward.
It wasn’t enough. “Touch me,” he gritted out.
Instantly her hands were at his waist, undoing his pants and reaching inside before he could halt her. Not that he wanted to. Her fingers closed around his cock and stroked. One hard tug up and down his length, and he almost lost it.
What the fuck?
Gasping a breath, he leaned forward and devoured her nipple, the sweet bud hard and silky beneath his tongue. She cried out under his attack, the nub obviously still tender and sensitive from the clamps. He eased his attention with a haggard breath and shifted to the other nipple.
She resumed her caress of his cock. Each stroke slow, but firm, almost like she was exploring his body by touch. But then, she was. It was the first time he’d allowed her to touch him. Her thumb smoothed over the sensitive top, stopping to probe the opening and collect the spilled pre-come. He arched his hips, thrusting his cock into her fist. He grunted his need against the damp flesh of her breast.
He moved his mouth to the juncture of her neck and bit down on the tender flesh. She flinched then tilted her head, giving him more room. He used his teeth to hold her in place as he lifted his hips and worked his pants down his legs. She continued to rub his cock, her movements increasing with the freedom from his pants.
