I is for...

by L. DuBois

  She dropped to her knees. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little disappointed. Not that she didn’t enjoy sucking cock, but she enjoyed having that cock in her pussy or ass more than in her mouth. She was about sensation, not service, and that meant she wanted more.

  The floor here was hard, and she wouldn’t be able to kneel for long. She started to sit back on her heels, but as she did, she became aware of the pressure of the ice and water inside her ass. She straightened, clenching her ass closed. He’d said this was like an enema, too, and that meant holding it in until she was allowed to relieve herself.

  Master Raine returned with a black canvas tote that bulged oddly. He reached in and pulled out two rectangles of padding, the kind gardeners used when they were weeding. He dropped both of them to the ground and then nudged them with his boot so they were parallel and about six inches apart.

  She didn’t wait for him to verbally order her into position. She knee-walked onto the pads, then looked up at him.

  “I do like a woman on her knees.”

  “I think I’ve heard that before.”

  His hand slid over her head to grip the base of her ponytail, tugging her head back even further, so she had to half close her eyes to protect them from the overhead spotlight. “I’m going to fuck your mouth. I’m clean, but I’ll wear a condom if you’d prefer. Your choice, no repercussions.”

  Because it was a private club, they had in-house testing on a regular basis. It was almost…chivalrous…of him to let her decide.

  “If you’re going to fuck my mouth, I want to feel you come in me. I want to choke on your cock and then taste you.”

  She didn’t top from the bottom, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try and rile her Dom up.

  His hand tightened in her hair, until her scalp prickled and she hoped her hair didn’t come undone. She hissed.

  “You make me want to do things…”

  What things? Tell me. No. Don’t tell me. Do them.

  He jerked her head forward. Keeping one hand in her hair, he freed his cock with the other. She didn’t even get a good look at his member before the head was bobbing against her cheek. He wrapped a fist around the base then growled, “Open.”

  Chastity parted her lips and relaxed her jaw. The satiny smooth head of his cock brushed her lower lip. It was damp with pre-come, another indication that he was as aroused and ready as she was.

  Then the head was in her mouth, pressing her tongue back before she managed to get it down. She could feel the underside of him, the ridge of the vein, passing over her tongue as he pressed himself deeper into her mouth. He tasted salty and musky. He smelled like man and sex.

  The head of his cock hit the back part of the roof of her mouth, then he went deeper, into her throat. She gagged slightly, but fought the reflex. He grabbed her head in both hands, and jerked her forward. Now he was in her throat, his cock filling her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow.

  It should have been terrifying. It was pussy-clenchingly hot.

  He withdrew after no more than a few seconds, and she sucked in air through her nose. Then he was back, cock in her throat, her head held in place by his strong hands.

  “Time your breathing,” he warned her.

  She nodded, his cock still in her mouth, to let him know she understood.

  Three more times he thrust in, held himself in place, then withdrew.

  “Fuck. Fuck, I can’t.”

  That was the only warning she got before he started to fuck her face in truth. He thrust in and out, not going quite as deep, so she was able to breathe, but working himself in and out of her mouth with a speed that meant all she could do was hold on. As he thrust forward, he pulled her head onto his cock, so her upper body was rocking forward and back.

  She tried a few times to start a rhythm, to take on some of the work, but when she did, he tugged her hair and she settled down, submitting to being used and fucked this way.

  “I’m not coming, not yet,” he growled.

  She whimpered and reached up to grab his thighs. She wanted him to come in her. Wanted to feel him lose control.

  When that wasn’t enough, she reached around and grabbed his ass. Sweet stars, the man had a nice ass. Tight and hard. It flexed as he pumped into her mouth.

  Her own body was so hot with arousal that when she was overcome with the need to feel his naked flesh under her hands, she didn’t check the impulse. Reaching up, she yanked his unfastened pants down until they were around his upper thighs. She grabbed his ass again, digging her fingers into the now-naked skin. His butt muscles flexed as he pumped into her.

  “Chastity.” He said her name like an oath.

  Maybe it was an order for her to let go, to be passive in her submission, but she wouldn’t do that. Maybe she couldn’t. She needed to feel the heat of his skin and the hardness of his muscles. She needed to hold onto him the same way he was holding onto her.

  He surged, deeper than any time before, and she gagged once before swallowing around him, a trick it had taken her some time to master. She could feel him twitching in her mouth. Heard his sharp grunts and the way he was breathing through his teeth.

  He came, with the head of his cock deep in her throat. She swallowed as he did, both milking the head and making sure her windpipe was closed.

  Her lungs were starting to burn with the need to exhale, and she pressed her head back into his hands, away from his cock. He let her pull herself off, the head of his cock dragging over her tongue. She could taste him now, salty and almost bitter.

  He let out a long, slow breath, and she licked the underside of the crown, wringing another oath from him.

  Master Raine pulled out of her mouth and released her head. She dropped her hands from his ass and sat back on her heels, looking up at him.

  He put his hands on his hips and stared down at her. He was breathing hard. He looked almost shocked, an expression that sat oddly on his intimidating face.

  “That was incredible.”

  Chastity licked her lips, slowly and deliberately. “Yes, it was.”

  She squeaked in surprise when he reached down, hooked his hands under her arms, and yanked her up. He was strong. Deliciously, sexily strong.

  Then much to her surprise, he yanked her against his chest and kissed her. It wasn’t a casual kiss, or the affectionate peck that sometimes accompanied aftercare. It was a dramatic, deep kissing-in-the-rain-at-the-end-of-a-movie kiss.

  When his tongue invaded her mouth, she was at first surprised. Then she threw her arms around his shoulders. She hopped, hooking her legs around his hips as she did. Their teeth clicked together, but neither of them cared. He grabbed her ass and took two waddling steps, dropping her onto the table and her abused, ice-filled bottom.

  He lifted his head, looking at her from below hooded brows.

  “Raine,” she pleaded. “Please.”

  It occurred to her somewhere in the back of her mind that they’d fallen out of the roles of Dom and sub, at least as she understood them. They were just two people driven wild by lust. At least that’s what she was feeling. He’d come, so by rights he should be more rational than she was. Maybe he should have been, but he wasn’t. His cock was semi-hard, and when she said please, he dropped to his knees.

  He hooked her legs over his shoulders, grabbed her hips, and yanked her forward until she was half off the table. Chastity leaned back, grabbed hold of the far edge, and when he buried his face against her pussy, she squeezed his head with her thighs.

  He feasted on her. It wasn’t a precise application of tongue to pussy, but more like a delicious mauling. He rubbed his nose and chin against her, sucked and nipped at her flesh. Her clit became the focus of his flicking tongue and stubble-rough chin.

  She came even faster than he had. It felt like he’d been on his knees for less than a minute before she was trembling, teeth clenched. Then she was there, on that precipice, and he sucked her clit into his mouth, scraping it against his teeth.
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br />   She came on a scream, her thighs tight against his ears, the muscles in her arms and hands so tense they ached.

  At one point he grabbed her knees, yanking her legs off his head and forcing her open, holding her that way as he lapped at her clit, prolonging her orgasm.

  “No more,” she begged. “No more, please.”

  He pulled back and bit the inside of her thigh, as if in punishment for asking him to stop. Then he released her legs and surged to his feet.

  She was about to slide off the table, but he hooked his hands under her knees, forced her legs up and open, and then his cock, once more hard, was stabbing against her pussy.

  “I want to be inside you.”

  “Yes,” she sobbed. “Yes.”

  He surged into her. His cock was thick and long, opened her, filling her. She’d just come, but the instant he pressed in, so deep his pelvis pressed against hers and she could feel his balls against her ass, she came again. Chastity saw stars, briefly understood why forty-two was the answer, and died a little.

  Raine pumped in and out of her a few times. She reached forward to try to hold onto him, but that changed the angle of her hips in a way she didn’t like. Chastity opted to hold on for dear life as he fucked her.

  “Did you come again?” he panted.

  “Yes. Oh, yes.”

  He pulled out, and she could feel that his cock was only semi-erect. He’d come too recently to maintain the erection, but that, apparently, wasn’t going to stop him.

  Raine dropped back to his knees once more and slid his fingers into her pussy. He used two fingers to rub her clit. She opened her mouth to say she couldn’t come again, only to find that the words were a lie. Maybe it was that she hadn’t actually stopped coming. If that was the case, his fingers pushed her to a new peak within the same mountain range of pleasure. She was sobbing and gasping as she came down from the sweet high. He was still touching her, but she was exhausted, spent.

  “Beautiful.” Raine slid his fingers out of her, giving her pussy one last affectionate pat.

  Chastity slid off the table and ended up straddling him as he knelt, her hands braced on his shoulders.

  She looked down at him, breathing still uneven.

  He grinned up at her.

  “Wow,” she whispered. “That was…I don’t even know what that was. It wasn’t a scene, but it was incredible.”

  She was babbling, and she realized the mistake as soon as the words left her mouth.

  “Not a scene?” He scooted back and then stood.

  She leaned on the table, trying to find her balance both literally and emotionally.

  “I mean it wasn’t like any scene I’ve had before. It was…more.”

  He was already turning away from her.

  “Raine, wait.” She grabbed his forearm.

  He turned so fast that she yelped. His fingers closed around her wrist, using the hold to first yank her forward a step, and then forced her hand behind her back. His gaze flicked over her face, and her stomach sank.

  What they’d just done was…she’d never had sex like that. So raw and primal. It had been amazing. It had gone beyond what she was used to having at Las Palmas. That’s what she’d been trying to say, but she’d gone about it all wrong.

  “Master Raine. Or Sir. That’s what you call me.”

  “Yes, Master Raine.” She made the words as deferential as she could. “Please let me explain.”

  “No.”

  She flinched back from the hard word. From the cold anger she could feel radiating from him.

  “I think you’ll wear a gag for a while. You’re right, I forgot myself, and I let you forget your place.”

  She stiffened, not liking the way he said “your place” or the confusing mix of arousal-tinged fear that thrummed through her. “I’m sorry if you’re upset, but I didn’t forget my ‘place’.” She sneered the last word.

  “Yes, you did. But I’ll remind you of it.”

  “I don’t need to be reminded.”

  “I think you do. You have an out.”

  “I’m not using my safe word.”

  “Then it’s time for you to submit.”

  “I have been. Just because I don’t sit quietly waiting for you to give me orders doesn’t mean I’m not submissive.”

  He smiled, but it wasn’t exactly a pleasant expression. “I think I know what our next item from the checklist will be.”

  Afraid. She was a little bit afraid. But she wouldn’t tell him that. Wouldn’t let him see it.

  “I look forward to it, Master Raine.”

  She stressed the word “Master.”

  “Oh, I highly doubt that. You may not be my type, as we’ve both said, but maybe it’s time for me to show you how I normally treat my type of sub.”

  Master Raine released her wrist. “On your knees. Sit back on your heels. Knees spread at least a foot apart.”

  She raised her chin and met his gaze, then slowly sank to her knees. She followed each of his commands precisely.

  “Lower your gaze. If I catch you looking without permission, you’ll be blindfolded. Do you understand?”

  She hated that order. Hated it. But she obeyed.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now open your mouth.”

  She opened it, expecting a rubber gag. Instead, he popped an ice cube onto her tongue.

  “When that’s melted, you may get up and go to the bathroom. Clean yourself up. Then come back and kneel. You can use the cushions if your knees start to hurt.”

  She wanted to ask where he was going, when he’d be back. The ice on her tongue prevented that, and it was probably a good thing. She doubted it was an appropriate time to challenge him.

  She kept her gaze down, listening as he walked away. Listening to the door open and close.

  He was gone. She could have crunched the ice up with her teeth and swallowed it.

  She could have, but instead she obeyed. She let the ice melt, ignoring her need to relieve herself. Ignoring the way her knees started to ache.

  It took nearly ten minutes for the ice cube to melt, but Chastity obeyed and remained on her knees, gaze lowered, until she’d swallowed the last of the cold water.

  He’d lost control. He never lost control.

  Alexandre leaned back against the wall in the corridor and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the plaster exterior wall.

  He’d just had sex with Chastity.

  The sex wasn’t the problem, it was the way they’d had sex that was the problem.

  They’d had sex like…like vanilla people. Not sex, that wasn’t in question. The kind of sex vanilla people aspired to, but still. He hadn’t been topping her, he’d been savoring her. Reveling in the wild passion that flared between them.

  She’d yanked down his pants and grabbed his ass. In the moment, that had made him incredibly hot, and it hadn’t even crossed his mind to stop her or punish her for touching him without permission.

  He’d kissed her and then she’d jumped into his arms. Then he’d fucked her. It had been passion-fueled madness. Delicious madness.

  Afterwards she had—rightly—pointed out that wasn’t a scene. That rude realization had jerked him from his post-sex haze.

  For a moment he’d forgotten where he was. If there’d been a bed nearby he might have scooped Chastity up, lain down on the bed with her, and snuggled in for a post-sex snooze.

  Submissives were taught to control themselves, even when wildly, brain-meltingly, aroused.

  He was the Dom, yet it appeared he lacked that basic control. He’d let passion drive him. He’d treated her like…like a girlfriend he was having sex with for the first time.

  Alexandre didn’t do vanilla relationships. Or romantic relationships.

  That had been a bitter lesson to learn, but he’d learned it and was still paying the price for the knowledge.

  His normal subs would never have done what she did. They would have controlled themselves, waited for his permi
ssion and commands.

  They’re boring. She’s not.

  He pushed away from the wall and started for the Doms’ locker room, where he had his stash of toys, and also where the club kept a supply of equipment for the Doms to raid as needed.

  Chastity needed to be in bondage—then she couldn’t touch him except what he allowed, and he would, hopefully, find his center. The place where control rather than passion ruled.

  Chapter 7

  She heard the door unlatch and used the brief warning to make minute adjustments to her posture. By the time he was close—the distance marked by the sound of his footsteps against the concrete floor—she was perfectly positioned.

  Her knees were spread and anchored on the pads, her toes and the balls of her feet braced on the cold floor. She’d debated whether she should place her hands on her thighs, or raise them and lace her fingers together either on her head or behind her neck. She’d opted for hands on her legs, palms up, fingers relaxed and curled.

  The other decision she’d made was to keep her head up. Her gaze was lowered, as he’d ordered, but she hadn’t bowed her head.

  She could lie to herself and say she wasn’t trying to be defiant. That her chin wasn’t raised as a challenge—he could order her to lower her gaze, and she would obey his commands, but that didn’t mean she was meek.

  Submission was strength.

  He stepped into the light. She could see him from the thighs down. A memory how those hard, muscled limbs had felt under her hands made her fingers curl tight, until her nails pressed into her palms.

  “Relax.”

  She was startled that he’d noticed her movement, which she had been only vaguely aware of. She forced her hands to relax back into a neutral posture.

  He bent, and his hand dropped into her line of sight, extended towards her.

  “Take my hand.”

  That wasn’t what she’d expected, but she didn’t hesitate to place her fingers against his wide palm. He had some scars on his hands, and they were callused. Not those little spots of callus on the palm at the base of the fingers. There were whole sections of his palm that were hard.