She slid him into her mouth, savoring the musky, salty taste of him. He put his hands on each side of her head, and she started to panic. She was barely getting enough air through her nose. If he pulled her forward, gagged her, she’d be desperately short of breath, especially with the corset compressing her lungs. But she didn’t pull back, because she wanted it on some level too. It could be all about him. She knew he wouldn’t let her pass out. She hoped she could breathe long enough for him to take his pleasure.
He pulled her back, however, instead of forward. “If I meant for you to do that, I would have said ‘blow me.’ I asked you to undress me.”
Somehow she couldn’t imagine him saying “blow me.” It was odd even for him to suggest that he could. It was too crude. But it wasn’t as if she wanted him to hold back. She was stung by the rebuke but knew he was right. She hadn’t been following directions, and he’d been right to stop her. Topping from below. That’s what I do. Even when I’m feeling the most submissive.
She peeled off his jeans. She couldn’t help but run her hands over his muscled legs, feeling the softness of the hair on them. There wasn’t a part of him that was anything but perfect. The only difference between him and one of those statues of Greek gods was that he had more muscle, a bigger cock, and body hair. All improvements, as far as she was concerned. Not to mention the fact that he was alive and pulsing before her.
“What you did may not have been obedient, but it was not the act of a selfish submissive. However, your knees would start hurting if I let you stay. It’s a hard floor.” He scooped her up as if she weighed no more than a pillow and placed her back down on the bed.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied, touched that he cared about her knees. He was right, of course. She never thought about what it felt like to swing a flogger at her, only about what she felt when one struck. She knew some men liked doing it, that she enjoyed having it done, and that she could get men to do it to her. She really was a selfish person. But she couldn’t explain what she had done or the way she felt.
“Get on all fours,” he told her, and she hastened to obey. It was weird doing it in the corset, because her back didn’t bow the same way. Gravity didn’t have much effect on her breasts, either.
He walked to the nightstand, opened a drawer, and pulled out a condom in its foil wrapper. “Do you think if I fuck you that you can hold back your climax, Katrina?”
Lying would probably let her come. But she didn’t want to lie to him. “No.”
He smiled. “Have you ever had anyone in your ass before?”
No. But she nodded, slowly. A nod didn’t count as a lie, did it? She didn’t want him to think she was inexperienced for some reason, because she feared it would give him the upper hand. She wasn’t sure she liked where this was heading. She knew now why she was on all fours. He’d have a choice of how he fucked her, she supposed. The idea excited her because she was curious, but it scared her too. He was awfully big. She thought it was best to distract him. “I’m sure, Sir, that if you’re in my mouth, I won’t accidentally come first.”
He grinned. “I’m sure of that too. Well then.” He took two more condoms out and put one at the head of the bed. She looked at it. Unlike the other two, it came in a colored wrapper, which said it was strawberry flavored. “Any allergies I should know about?”
“No. Why do you have three?” She understood that men couldn’t feel as much through one layer of rubber—God knew Angus had complained about that often enough. Through two, it might take him forever to come, and regardless of where he was, she didn’t want him to last that long if he was supposed to come first. She supposed it was safer, but then, so was walking around with a bulletproof vest. An unpleasant idea occurred to her. “Do you have something?”
“No, I don’t.” He got out a a latex glove. “I make sure I get tested regularly. Most of the responsible doms do.”
She supposed that made sex safer too. Of course, it was safer yet if they never touched each other. “Do you think I do?”
“No, I don’t. But I don’t have a way of knowing, and you can’t know I’m telling the truth, so let’s be safe.” His hand had a bottle of lube in it now too. He walked behind her, and she tried to follow him with her gaze. But while her neck could crane, it was decidedly harder to twist her torso, so she gave up. She wondered if he was doing it on purpose, deliberately enticing her to do things the corset would restrict so as to emphasize the bondage it imposed. She heard the soft sounds of fabric rubbing as he stripped off his shirt. A glove snapped as he put it on. It put a picture in her head she wasn’t sure she liked.
I could say blue. He’d stop. But she already knew she wasn’t going to.
He pulled on her cheeks. She felt exposed. She blushed. If she couldn’t see him, maybe he couldn’t see that. She could hope.
The hands went away, and she waited. Then he was there again, one hand on her butt, the other probing the last place she thought anyone would want to touch. His finger was warm, though, and slick. He’d covered it with lube, she realized, and warmed the lube up so as not to shock her. Maybe he wasn’t such a sadist after all.
Actually, he’s cared for my needs every time I’ve met him.
She tried to relax as he gradually pushed his finger inside. He could have drizzled the cold lube on her. This, after all, was makeup for what he’d done for her, wasn’t it? He didn’t need to take special care. Even as she relaxed, the corset still held her back taut.
He wiggled his finger inside her ass, spreading the lube and slickening her up. It tickled nerves she didn’t know she had, and it felt strangely good. She couldn’t feel the other hand anymore, so it was doing God knows what. In the stillness of the room, she thought maybe she heard the lube bottle being squeezed, but the pop made by his finger pulling out was louder and more embarrassing.
Something thicker pushed into her ass. His cock? She decided it was two fingers. They slid in easier than the first had, oddly. She could sense that there was more lube by the way they moved. He slid them in and out of her, pushing them apart now and then to stretch her. In spite of her earlier fears, she found herself pushing back against him, willing his fingers to enter her more deeply.
He withdrew his fingers and pressed his cock to her little hole. She could sense there was more lube on it because it wasn’t quite as warm as the lube on his hands, and that stopped her from tensing up. She didn’t think she could possibly be more slippery. Some people do this all the time. He pushed forward, both his hands on her cheeks now, spreading her. Yes, but not everyone is as big as he is.
She felt herself stretch as he entered her. He was slow and careful and paused when he was a little ways in. It didn’t hurt.
“Breathe, Katrina.”
She realized she’d been holding her breath, and she couldn’t expand her lungs enough to make up for it all at once. She tried to focus on her breathing, but it was hard with his cock partly in her ass. Still, she managed. He was right: there was a skill to it, and she was getting better at taking breaths that were as deep as the corset allowed.
“Good girl,” he murmured. He slid forward.
Slowly he pushed in, and she stretched to accommodate him. He grunted when his pubic bone nudged against her cheeks. With him all the way in, she felt incredibly full and empty at the same time because her pussy didn’t have anything in it. Well, at least this way I can’t come before him.
He slid back and then thrust back in. Then back more before filling her again. Then farther still. His hands, one gloved, the other not, moved to grab her hips, controlling her movements. He pulled on her when he thrust in and held her still when he partially withdrew. Her clit tingled, wanting attention and not getting it. With every thrust, the tingling got worse, and it filled her head. She wanted to be touched there so badly. In fact, she could definitely come this way, filled from behind—no, fucked in the ass, that was the term for it. She was getting used, roughly, and she wanted it.
She pushed back, trying to dri
ve him deeper, even though he felt impossibly huge there, because she wanted more. More of anything but above all more of this powerful man and his control. The hands on her hips were the best part, telling her that she couldn’t get free and wasn’t in charge of her movements. His grip seemed as much made out of steel as the bones in the corset.
“Would you come if I stroked your clit right now?”
She thought of shaking her head. Maybe she could get what she needed, but if she did, he wouldn’t come first. He might punish her for that. Spank her, although that didn’t frighten her. Disappointing him was more frightening. “Yes, I think so.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, Sir.”
His ungloved hand moved let go of her hip and cupped her mound. Then he used it to pull her, and he either had grown another half inch or found a way to get even farther in. She gasped. His hand was so close.
“Would it take just a touch, or would I have to rub?”
“Rub, Sir.” She wasn’t sure. Actually the thought of him pressing her clit hard was almost enough. But a light touch seemed wrong, somehow. She wanted more than that. She wanted it as rough as she could get it.
“I don’t think I’d enjoy being gentle right now, so I won’t tempt fate. You will come, Kat. When I want you to and not one moment before.” He sighed. “I’m almost there, you know. I’m hanging by a thread. I’ve got all this pressure built up in my balls since the last time I played with you, and I want release.”
She felt like she was on the edge too, but at his words she knew she wanted something else more. She wanted him to come. “Yes,” she heard herself say. “Please.” She imagined him shooting deep inside, or even withdrawing and covering her back.
He swelled inside her and then gave a low cry, almost a growl. Then his fingers slipped between her legs and pressed her clit so hard she felt as if it was being ground against the bone beneath. “Now, Kat.”
As if she could stop herself if she tried. Her orgasm bloomed like an exploding gasoline truck, flowing outward from her clit and involving every muscle in her body a split second later. His still rigid cock stopped her ass from squeezing as tightly as it usually did when she came, and for some reason that made it go on and on. He grabbed her as her hands gave way, holding her up as a thrill rippled up and down her spine.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” she cried, the intensity of it almost too much for her. She couldn’t get enough air, but somehow that intensified everything too. She felt like she was on some kind of crazy drug.
“We’re fucking, little kitty, trust me. And we’ll be fucking for a while.”
She was sure he’d come. Any man would need some rest. But she didn’t argue with him, because he felt so good. His strong hands holding her up was what she needed right now. He withdrew from her slowly, and as he did so, he pulled her up so that he could hold her better. She had thought that maybe she wouldn’t be able to feel a hug as well through the corset, but she could, and it was warm and wonderful. He kissed her cheek, and she turned to meet him, pressing her lips to his. He tasted sweet.
“Was your first time, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir.” She blushed, but she knew she’d been found out, although she didn’t know quite how.
“Thought so. You should learn to tell the truth, little kitty.”
She nodded, feeling guilty. The whole idea that nodding wasn’t lying seemed pretty specious now. “Are you going to punish me?” she asked. She bit her lip. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was.
He looked at her for a moment and sighed. “I’ve never enjoyed the idea of punishment,” he said at last. “The things I do—flogging, spanking—are meant for pleasure, not for retribution. But do you need to be punished, Kat?”
She needed to make it right, and she didn’t know how to do that. Slowly, she nodded. “Yes, Sir. Please. I can’t just…let it go, and I don’t want you to send me away.”
He blinked. “I wasn’t planning to send you away tonight.”
Tonight. How about tomorrow? But that was silly thinking because he’d made no commitment, and she hadn’t asked for one. She wondered if her face betrayed the mixture of relief and disappointment at his reaction.
He frowned. He slid off the condom and then the latex glove on his hand. He folded the inside-out glove around the condom and tossed them into a metal wastebasket. Then he pulled on the knot holding the corset tight, and Kat felt it loosen. She thought of asking to keep it on but stopped. She had asked to be punished. He tugged at the loops, giving them more slack.
“I’m really sorry, Sir.”
“Show me by not telling me any more lies.”
Ouch. But she supposed she deserved it. “Yes, Sir.”
He reached around her and undid the hooks on the front, and the garment fell away from her. It should have been a relief, to get something that tight off, but it felt more like she’d been pushed out of a hug. He laid it carefully on top of the chest of drawers, making sure the two halves lay perfectly flat on the surface. She watched, feeling as if she might cry. Not for the corset—at the emotional barrier that seemed to have come between them. She felt suddenly adrift, and it was making her stomach knot up. She hadn’t expected to care that much. His back was broad and strong, and she could have touched it, but it seemed a mile away.
Then he turned, sat down on the bed, and pulled her into his lap. He held her tight, as firmly as the corset had although in a different way. His skin was warm against hers, and she pressed her hand to his chest and felt the soft hair on it. She ran her fingers over his nipple. She kissed his neck.
“You’re mine for the night,” he told her, “and you’re not going anywhere. I’m going to take you, again and again. You’re going to walk out of here sore, more so because of the spanking I’m about to give you. But I think it will be a night worth remembering.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m yours to use, Sir.”
“Yes, you are.”
His response made her shiver. She’d said words like that before, as a come-on, but she thought it was the first time she’d ever meant them. She didn’t care if she came again. She didn’t even care if she liked what was going to happen. He’d already made sure of her pleasure, and now she desperately wanted it to be his turn. He’d come once, but she wanted him to come again. And again. She found that horribly confusing after years of looking out for herself, of having to look out for herself because no one else would.
Suddenly, he pulled her legs to his left and pushed her shoulders down with his right hand. She went from being held to lying over his lap, ass up. She could still feel how he’d stretched her. It wasn’t sore exactly, but her body hadn’t forgotten where he’d been, either.
She twisted her neck so she could see him, and she was surprised by what she saw there. He didn’t look aroused. In fact, she realized, his cock wasn’t even hard; she could feel it soft beneath her. Instead he simply looked disappointed and maybe sad. She’d caught him in an unguarded moment, she realized. It was like sneaking into her mother’s room to see her Christmas presents before they were wrapped. She was seeing something she wasn’t supposed to see, and his expression broke her heart. She’d hurt him by lying and possibly hurt him worse by asking him to punish her.
He noticed her looking, and his expression went blank. “Turn your head, little kitty,” he said. “This is going to hurt, and I won’t hold back for tears.”
She turned her head, and the tears started flowing before he even touched her. The first smack on her butt came as a relief. It was no light warm-up, the way most doms did it in a club. Instead it hurt as he’d promised. He swatted her again and again, and her tears made wet tracks down her face. She’d never met a man like Brett. He was someone she could be honest with, and she couldn’t get out of the habit of lying. He stood up for her against Angus, he was good in bed, and he’d caught her every time she’d fibbed. She wondered what it would be like to surrender to this man completely, to ask him to spank her anytime she screwed up, u
ntil she didn’t screw up anymore.
He wouldn’t like that. He’d want me not to screw up. Maybe that’s why I feel safe with him.
Safe.
She wanted to tell him she was safe because she knew she was. She hadn’t actual intercourse for over a year until he’d fucked her ass. Was that actual intercourse? Well, it was fucking, anyway. She knew she couldn’t know for sure about him, that she shouldn’t trust him. But she wanted to tell him anyway, so that when he took his pleasure, he wouldn’t have to do it inside a rubber sheath. Not if he came in her mouth, at least. That was, well, not safe, but safer.
There’s not a damned reason for him to believe me, even if I told him.
She didn’t like herself very much right now, at all. She pushed her butt back, hoping to make the blows harder, as if they could wipe out all she didn’t like about herself, but instead he stopped and caressed her bottom.
“Sir?” she asked.
“You’re not a bad girl, Katrina. No one bad wrote those songs with their hidden messages of love and hope below the hard edge. No one bad is over my lap right now, either. You need to know you’re safe. That being yourself is okay.”
He pulled her up again and set her upright on his lap, her butt on one hard thigh. Her bottom was definitely sore now, and it hurt to sit on anything, but he probably knew that. She accepted it as part of her punishment. Thank goodness for the muscle. It’s at least softer than bone.
He licked her cheek, tasting her tears. It felt more intimate than being fucked, and it almost made her start crying again. She wiped at her face with her fist. He’d think she was a regular faucet, and the truth was she wasn’t prone to tears at all. She hadn’t even cried when she’d gotten kicked out of the band. She didn’t want him to think she was soft. But she wanted to be soft with him. It was hard to sort out.
Blue Desire Page 8
