"Yep." He treated her to a look that made her tingle all the way to her fingertips. "Is that okay with you?"
He had invited her to sit down at the table, but she hadn't settled yet, and he was attending to some final detail at the stove. He had playfully donned a chef's apron, and his glasses were getting a little steamy, so he had to keep pushing them up from his nose and into his hair, which she found absolutely adorable.
"Sure," she said, grinning at him. "I've been curious ever since you told me you were into that stuff."
"So what are you curious about?"
"I'm not sure, exactly. You were kinda vague last weekend about what you do when you’re feeling kinky."
"All the usual things," he said with a smile.
"They’re not so usual to me."
"I know. You’re blushing." He stopped stirring his pot and leaned close. With the hand that was not holding the wooden spoon, his finger brushed over her hot cheek and down her throat to her collarbone. "I love the thought of teaching you all sorts of wicked things."
"Hey, I'm the professor here, remember?" she laughed. "Stop being older than me."
His laughter joined hers. With one more kiss, he reluctantly turned back to the stove.
"Anyway," she added, "I did some reading on the internet."
"Some Dark Side web surfing? I’m delighted to hear it. D’you have questions that Google couldn’t answer? Did you see anything you’d like to try? You’re still blushing."
"It’s my complexion. We redheads flush a lot. Doesn’t mean a thing."
"Uh huh." He grinned at her. "Everything's finally ready. Take a seat and I'll serve you."
She sat down at the place he had indicated. He had given her the best view; she could see the moon rising over the water. "There, you see, that's one of the things I'm curious about—you serving me? From everything I read about this domination and submission stuff, I'd have expected you to want me to serve you."
"Maybe in the bedroom." He spooned some thick, fragrant curry onto her plate. "I don't require a steady diet of it, though."
"Aren't you one of those dominant master types?"
"I enjoying playing that role. But I prefer not to define myself in BDSM terms. Melanie, my former girlfriend, wanted to me to dom her 24/7, but I didn't want that much control. I don't need a subservient partner." He picked up his wine glass and nodded to hers. "Shall we have a toast?"
"Sure. To second chances?" She picked up her own wine glass and touched it to his. There was a soft hum of crystal as he clinked back.
"I'll happily drink to that."
They smiled at each other and she felt as if she were falling into the depths of his eyes. They drank the wine, a smooth, full-bodied red. There was a pleasant tingle in her belly and a lovely feeling of warmth and happiness that zipped around in her veins.
"How long were you and Melanie together?"
He winced, and she wondered if she'd asked an awkward question. But he'd been the one to mention his former girlfriend. He answered readily enough, though. "About a year. She was looking for a master, and I was looking for a partner who liked kinky sex. We had our ups and downs. Broke up a couple times, got back together, finally broke up for good when she kept pressuring me to do stuff that I wasn’t comfortable with."
"Pressuring you? That doesn't sound very submissive."
He shrugged. "Relationships are relationships, no matter what the flavor. You're bound to have some conflicts."
Had he been in love with Melanie? She nearly asked, but cut herself off before the words slipped out. It was too early to talk about being in love.
He continued, as if he needed to explain, "She and I didn’t have much in common besides the sex, and even that wasn’t right in the end. She left me for a lifestyle dominant who had another full-time submissive. Last I heard, that hadn't worked out too well."
"I'm not surprised! How could one man possibly keep two women satisfied?"
"I’m sure I don’t know. Sounds exhausting."
She considered what he had told her, wondering whether to keep questioning him. She got the feeling that discussing his ex made him uncomfortable. She could certainly understand that.
"The important thing," he said after a short pause, "is that I regard my kinkiness in a playful sort of way. Some folks take the lifestyle very seriously, trying to incorporate it into all aspects of their lives. That’s not what I want. I don’t demand that anyone surrender her power to me for more than a few hours at a time."
"It makes me nervous to think about surrendering my power at all."
"I get that. You have to trust your partner, and trust takes time."
"Have you always been this way? That summer, when you tied me up—"
He nodded. "My brain has always been wired to find the rough stuff hot. A scene is like writing for me, in a way. I like to plan it, set it up, put my characters into their places and then see what they do. It's another way for me to be creative."
Again, she thought of Bart and his torture chamber of horrors. She felt a little uneasy.
"Does it make you uncomfortable to discuss this with me?"
"A little. You’re easy to talk to, though." She took another big swallow of the delicious red wine. "And the wine helps."
He smiled at her—that friendly, easygoing smile that she loved. "I love the fact that you’re a strong, confident woman and my equal. That’s what I want in a partner. The dom/sub thing is a pathway to pleasure for me, not a way of structuring a relationship."
He had now stated this in multiple ways, and she was beginning to believe him. "So, what do you want to try tonight?"
His eyes glinted mischievously. "I think I'll surprise you."
Heat shot through her, but there was a thread of apprehension, too. "What if I don't like the surprise?"
"Anything you don't like, I will stop doing." His voice was serious as he added, "You can use your safeword if something pushes you past your comfort zone."
"Okay."
"There are a couple of things I should ask you, for safety's sake, okay? Like, do you have any health issues? Are you on any medication?"
"Nope. I'm healthy. No STDs or anything, if you're wondering about that. And I'm on the pill. Not that I've needed it lately."
"I'm healthy, too. Regular checkups, negative blood tests, and all that. So, no asthma or blood pressure problems?"
She shook her head, thinking no one had ever asked her that before.
"And you've never been raped or abused, right?"
She was startled by this question. "Raped?" Derek hadn't raped her. The assault she'd endured from him hadn't been sexual. "No."
"I don't want to embarrass you, but sometimes BDSM can trigger submissives who've suffered abuse in the past. It's one of those questions doms have to ask."
"Makes sense," she said, feeling a little anxious. Diana had said the same thing. But she didn't want to think about what Derek had done. Not now. She was going to have to work herself up to it first.
His stare was intent. Did he know she was hiding something? She met his eyes and smiled, and after a moment, he smiled back.
"One of the things I like about kink is that partners are forced to communicate," he said. "That doesn't always happen during conventional sex. It can be hard to talk about certain things."
She decided they'd been serious long enough. "So we can talk about anything, sexwise?"
"Absolutely."
"Then it's okay, for example, for me to tell you, not there, but a half an inch to the left? You won't be insulted?"
"Not in the slightest, although I might have to stop and mark the spot on my little Good Boyfriend Google map."
She burst out laughing. Stephen extended his hand and gently cupped her chin for a moment. She turned her face slightly and kissed his fingers. "Don't worry about anything," he said. "We're going to laugh a lot and have fun."
Chapter 12
His bedroom was beautiful at night. The huge windows had a magnif
icent view of the sea. The moon was higher now over Cape Cod Bay, silvering the black water and slanting its light into the dark corners of his room.
"Don't stare at it. It'll make you crazy."
"A lunatic?" she smiled. "As in the old folk legends?"
He was stripping off his T-shirt. The sight of his naked, muscled chest sent new waves of desire coursing through her.
"Yes, look at me, bathed in moonlight every night and wrapped in a fantasy world most of my waking hours." He caught one of her wrists and pulled her to him. His hands slid underneath her top, seeking her breasts. In an instant he was cupping them, molding them, his thumbs flicking back and forth over her nipples, which hardened to sensitive peaks. "All writers are a little crazy. Don't you know that?"
She giggled, but her laughter was choked off by a surge of lust as he lifted her top and pulled it over her head, exposing her breasts to the moonlight and his eyes. After a long, passionate gaze that made her tingle with anticipation, he bent his head and began sucking one of her nipples until she writhed in his arms, her legs so weak with longing that she could hardly stand.
"Stephen," she murmured, encouraging him to increase the pace of his lovemaking. Her nails lightly traced a path down the flesh of his stomach to the belt of his jeans.
"So. Tonight you're going to do what I tell you to do."
"Is this where things start getting kinky?"
He chuckled, his breath was warm against her tingling breast. "Yup." His teeth closed on the nipple, bearing down gently. She moaned and arched against him, feeling with a thrill the ridge of his aroused penis through the barrier of denim.
"I'm yours to command."
He released her and stepped back a foot or so. "Strip off the rest of your clothes."
She was suddenly conscious of the enormous uncurtained window. "Can we close the drapes?"
"No. We're facing the ocean. No one'll see you."
"Maybe there's somebody out there in a boat—"
"Do it," he growled.
He did the giving orders thing well—there was something very sexy about that harsh tone he used, something that indicated he would brook no denial. It propelled her into the fantasy world where he was the master and she was willing to follow orders, a world that, without the erotic excitement she was feeling now, she might have resented. Her entire body was moist and hot, and there was an ache between her legs. Drawing a deep breath, she unsnapped her jeans and slid out of them as sensuously as she could. Stephen whistled appreciatively when he saw her long, slender legs, and her soft hips, covered only by a brief pair of bikini panties.
"Keep going."
Grinning, she pulled down her panties and stepped out of them. "Sexy lady," he whispered. His eyes moved slowly over her nakedness, making her feel worshiped, like a pagan goddess. "The moon is caressing your body, making me jealous."
He stripped away his own jeans, and she saw that he wasn't wearing underwear. He stood before her, naked and ready to fuck her, his lanky body as tense and hard as rock.
He stalked over to the bed, tugging her after him with a firm grip on one wrist. With a jerk he pulled off the heavy bedspread. "Lie down," he commanded, pushing her onto the thick mattress. It felt warm beneath her bare skin, and seemed to adjust to her curves. "Turn over," he added before she could get too comfortable.
She rolled obediently onto her stomach. As she did so, he caught one of her arms, then the other, and pulled them behind her back so her wrists were crossing each other. "Hold your arms like that. I’m not going to bind your wrists just now, but I want you to pretend that I have. Your hands are locked behind you, and you can't free them."
"Pretend handcuffs? Am I going to get a pretend spanking, too?"
He swatted her ass with his hand, but not hard. It felt good. And hot. "If you make me laugh you'll get a real one."
"Threats, threats."
The mattress shifted as he straddled her, his knees on either side of her hips. He bent forward, crouching over her so she could feel his twitching cock against her ass. She wriggled against him, and she felt his breath quicken. He was acting cool and calm, but she knew he was just as aroused as she was. She felt him kiss her on the back of her neck. She shifted a bit, trying to adjust her position.
The hands behind her back thing was something she was not used to. She felt as though she had to arch her spine, and this pressed her breasts hard against the mattress. It was a bit uncomfortable, but he must know that. If this was some sort of test, she was determined not to fail.
He grabbed a large hunk of her hair in his fist and pulled her head up and back, increasing the arch in her spine and the pressure on her breasts. He pressed his mouth against her ear while she squirmed a bit under him, trying to get comfortable. "Now listen. Since you've done your homework on the internet…"
"Homework!"
"You know now that there are all sorts of things that kinky people do. There are all sorts of games that we play, and all sorts of esoteric props and equipment we use."
"Most of which appear to be made of leather."
"Right. I like some of that stuff, but I don't need any of it. I don't need to tie you, although I will. I don't need to restrain you, although I will. You will hold whatever position I put you in not because you're bound or compelled to, but because of the pleasure you will find in it. And because by doing so, you will give me pleasure. Do you understand?"
His voice was low and husky, and his breath was warm and humid against her skin. She nodded. He pulled her head back harder, which hurt a bit.
"You're to answer me 'yes, Master. No, Master,' although I don't want to hear the word no from you unless you're also ready to say, 'please punish me, Master.'"
She was surprised to find that this made her hot. "Yes, Master," she murmured, trying it on for size. Damn. She was getting more and more excited.
"Good girl. Remember to say 'red,' if you need me to stop."
"What if you can't stop?"
He was running one of his fingers down the middle of her spine, causing shivers. "No matter what happens, if you use your safeword, I will stop. That's a promise."
Too bad I didn't have a safeword when Derek was attacking me, she thought. If only there had been a word to make that stop.
"Your skin is so silky," he said, caressing her. He explored her back with the tips of his fingers, then with his lips. As his mouth moved gently along her backbone, delighting her with several feathery kisses, he murmured against her, "There's something you haven't told me."
She tensed slightly. There were several things she hadn't told him.
"How many other men are there? Boyfriends, friends with benefits, hookups, etc.?"
She was vaguely annoyed by the question. "Am I acting as if there's anyone else?"
"All I know is that you've been divorced for a while. Some people go a little wild after a divorce. I'm trying to assess the competition."
"There isn't any. This is me going wild."
"You're a beautiful, sexy woman, with brains and wit and laughter. I'd expect the men to be lining up, hoping for a chance with you."
"Nope. Your only competition, Master, is battery powered."
He snorted a laugh. "Hmmm, what can I do that a vibrator can't? Let's see. Put your arms out to the sides. Like a T formation. Palms flat on the mattress."
She did it. It was a strange feeling—like bondage, except there were no restraints. The bed was so large that there was plenty of room even if he wanted to spread her out as far as her limbs could go.
He resumed massaging and caressing her back. He stroked with a force that pressed her deep into the mattress, then moved back up along her spine. His hands danced delicately over her upper back. He gathered up her thick skein of hair and spread it up over her head to expose the sensitive nape of her neck to his tantalizing fingers. His head came down, and his tongue explored her ear and the side of her throat. His fingers trailed along her sides as the heels of his hands applied the pressure, and whe
n they reached her rib cage, she could feel his fingertips teasing the sides of her breasts.
"You have a beautiful back. I'm looking forward to marking it with my whips."
Whoa. She wasn't sure whether to moan with lust or beg him not to. The moan won. He had her breasts in his hands now and he plucked on both of her nipples. She had learned last weekend that he loved to be rough with her breasts...and that she liked it when he tortured her that way. He pinched both nipples, doing it hard enough to hurt, but what she felt was good pain. He was quite the expert at dishing out good pain. She could tell from the jerks of his cock against her ass that every time he pinched or twisted her nipples and felt her react, his own excitement surged.
"Nipple clamps, I think," he mused. "I would love to strike your breasts with a riding crop, but that's a little too intense for a beginner. But I think you can handle a pair of nipple clamps with a slender chain between them for me to tug on."
She could hear herself panting as she imagined this. That would certainly hurt. Why did she hope he would do it?
He withdrew his hands and gripped her hips from behind. He raised her slightly and slid a pillow underneath her hips, moving her body with his usual authority.
He's going to take me from behind, she thought, wishing he'd take her somehow because her sex was aching with need. She usually didn't like the rear entry much, since she couldn't see her partner. She'd always thought it was a bit demeaning. But there was something deliciously wicked about this. He was totally in control. There was little she could do unless she moved her arms, which he had forbidden. She could hear her own rapid breathing, and the thump thump of her heart.
Stephen continued to torment her by circling instead of touching her sex. She arched her spine, trying to find him, and he laughed softly. "Spread your legs. No, wider." When that still wasn't wide enough to suit him, he slapped her ass and pressed her thighs even farther apart. He bent over her, in a curl, to breathe again into her ear, "When I give you an order, you will obey me instantly, love, or it'll be heavy discipline for you."
Heavy discipline? Whips and paddles? God, why didn't this scare the shit out of her? Why was her pussy weeping with twisted desire?
The Dangerous Hero Page 10
