by Lynn Burke
“Kiss me,” she whispered as I reached to pull off the blindfold.
Oh, the temptation to be all sweet and cuddly. Her stepping beyond the bounds of being a sub, however, earned her the pain she’d claimed to want.
I tsked twice. “You’ve earned your first punishment,” I said, inflicting the pleasure she’d brought me in my tone.
She bit her lip and turned her head to the side. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
I left my tie in place, but smoothed back her hair. “That’s better, gorgeous.” I moved off her to stand and pulled her to the edge of the bed, legs dangling to the floor. “Roll over.”
She obeyed without question, her feet on the hardwood, upper body lying on the rumpled bedspread. Ass bare except for the thong string between her rounded globes.
I ran my hand down her spine and soothed the white skin of both cheeks. A shudder ran through her, and she opened her mouth to emit a moan.
Time to find out if she enjoyed the pain I loved to inflict.
I sat beside her, and holding nothing back, I swung, the crack of skin meeting skin jerking my cock and bringing a curse to her lips, but no safe word.
Another crack, and she cursed again, but quieter and with a groan following. Five more handprints reddened her backside before she lifted her hips toward me in offering. I wanted to rip off her thong and bury myself in her pussy. Her ass. Anywhere to find my own release. She tested my restraint like no one had before.
Heaving for breath, and not from the spanking, I backed off and stared at the marking across her nylon-clad thighs and bare ass. My markings. Mine.
Satisfaction coursed through me. My little non-vanilla innocent. God, what a gift she was.
She panted, wiggling her lower body against the mattress.
“Pleasing me will be your end goal, not finding your own release,” I said, as I soothed a palm across a heated ass cheek, my voice low and rough, full of fuckin’ pent-up need. “I didn’t say you could come again.” I pinched, hard.
“P-please, Zane. I’ve never … I can’t.” She wet her lips, spitting out the pieces of her messy, long hair sticking to them. “I need more.”
I flipped her over and ripped the thong off her. Falling to my knees, I grasped her thighs and tugged her to the bed’s edge. She grabbed hold of my hair and pulled me close, wrapping her legs around my shoulders.
I breathed in her arousal before enjoying another long taste. I ran the pad of my thumb down through her inner lips, teasing. Circling and pressing in a hair’s length with each downward swipe as I continued to flick my tongue across her clit with just enough pressure to keep her teetered on the edge.
“Please,” she moaned, her hips rising as though she wanted me to fuck her with my thumb. She pulled on my hair and squeezed my head between her thighs. “I need. Something.” She whimpered. “More.” Her words spilled out, broken with gasps and each thrust of her hips. “Please.”
“I know exactly what you need, gorgeous, but I promised no penetration.”
“Touch me, Zane.”
The command deserved one hell of a punishment, but given the damn green light, I wasn’t about to say no. I watched her thrashing head while replacing my thumb with my index finger and coating it with her juices. She bit down on her lip and moaned, her body rising to meet me as I pressed forward into her tight sheath.
She gasped. “Oh, God, yes.”
So fuckin’ tight on a damn finger. The thought of what she’d feel like wrapped around my cock had my head spinning. I attacked her clit with lips, tongue, and teeth, while slowly sliding my finger in and out of her.
“More.”
Another fuckin’ command, but I obeyed without thought. She groaned and furrowed her brow when I pushed in a second finger, stretching her. Filling her soaked pussy. No safe word.
The frown disappeared as I sucked hard on her clit and slid my fingers out and back in. Seconds later, the slight scent of blood hit my nose, and I cursed myself. Couldn’t leave her unsatisfied though. A rotation of my wrist, and I found her G-spot.
A scream ripped from her lips, and her pussy clamped down on me. When she sagged, boneless and spent before me, I went to the bathroom and got a wet, warm towel.
She sighed, but didn’t move as I wiped the slight smear of blood my fingers had caused. “I’m still technically a virgin, right?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
A half-shuddered breath revealed her belief in my words—and her relief.
My balls ached like a mother fucker, and taking care of her and cleaning her up didn’t lessen the need for release.
Being the selfish prick I was, I finished and stood upright, pushing my slacks and tighty-whities down to get access to my straining cock. “On your knees, sub.”
Raquel struggled to push up off the bed. She slid to the floor, with what I expected was weakness rather than intended grace. I pulled her blindfold off. She blinked up at me in the overhead light before her attention moved down to my hand moving up and down my length.
She wet her lips with her tongue, and I nearly blew my load. “Can I touch you?” she asked, gaze riveted on my cock.
I’d had every intention of jerking off all over her huge tits, but grunted an affirmative and allowed her hand to replace mine. Soft, tentative fingertips … God. I sucked in air as she swiped the beaded moisture and slickened my cock’s head, swirling her palm around and down my length. A hiss passed my lips, and I tipped my head back, trying like hell to hold off. Enjoy her untrained hand.
Warm breath caressed my cock, and her mouth closed over me before I could open my eyes. I fisted my hands in her hair. While her tongue swirled around me, I slid in and out of her hot fuckin’ mouth, the sight of her sucking my cock with hollowed cheeks bringing me to the edge. I tried to pull her off me, but she held tight and took me deep.
I gave her all I had, every fuckin’ drop, and although she gagged at my initial explosion, she swallowed it down.
Mother fucking perfect.
I should have gone to draw her a bath and sooth her, but my selfishness won out. I had at least an hour before my cock demanded attention again. I needed to see all of her. Feel all of her.
I pulled her to her feet and gently removed the rest of her clothes, laying kisses on the skin I bared. Gorgeous wasn’t a good enough word for the beauty and curves of Raquel Hawkins. I lifted her into my arms and lay her on my bed.
Her eyes went dark with desire when I pulled off my shirt. “Holy sh…” Her voice trailed off. She gazed down my body and back up as I kicked off my pants and boxers. I worked hard for what she saw: cut biceps, prominent pecs, and sculpted abs. On hands and knees, I crawled across the bed and stretched out beside her.
I caressed her scalp, running my fingers through the tangles of her hair until her eyelids slid shut. With tenderness I usually avoided, I pressed my lips to hers, swept my tongue along the seam of hers until she sighed and let me in.
Her hands ran up my arms and along my spine, tugging me closer. I rolled atop her and pressed a knee between her legs. She parted them, allowing me to settle my weight flush against her, chest to chest. Since she was quite a bit shorter than my six-four, my flaccid cock rested against the bed between her thighs. Good thing, too. If he felt her satiny curls rubbing against him, he’d be up and at ‘em, ready to go before I wanted him to.
I made languid love to her mouth, nibbled along her jaw, suckled on her earlobe, drawing sighs and shivers from her limbs before burrowing my face against her neck. “Are you sore?”
She hesitated in answering as though taking stock of her body. “A little.”
“Other than that, how do you feel?”
It took her another few seconds to answer. “I’m not sure,” she said, a hint of unrest in her voice although her fingers trailed a path along my arm.
Having no clue what to say, I stayed silent, hoping she’d expand on her own.
“In one way, I feel glorious. Alive, and like an idiot for waiting so long to agre
e to go out with you.”
“But?”
She sighed. “I also feel guilty. Dirty.”
I pushed up onto my elbows and peered down at her. Blue eyes filled with question and unease knifed my gut. Afraid she’d hate me come morning, words spewed from me. “There’s nothing wrong with what we did, Raquel. Nothing dirty, nothing sordid as you’ve probably been told all your life. You’re still a virgin, safe and sound.”
Her lips pursed, and she paused from caressing my arm as she her gaze flitted away. “Am I a freak for being aroused by pain?”
“Not at all. Lots of people enjoy the mixing of pain with pleasure.”
She heaved a breath and turned back toward me, lifting her hand to cup my cheek. Her sad smile stole my breath. “Kiss me?”
I did, and then some, latching onto her like the world’s end loomed. “You promised to have dinner with me again tomorrow night,” I said a few minutes later.
“I forgot, but Jenny and I have plans.”
“Break them.”
Raquel peered up at me, sadness lingering in her eyes. “I’m not your sub right now.”
Anger coursed through me. “But you want to be. Tell me you didn’t crave the pain. The command. Tell me you don’t want it now.”
“I need to use the bathroom.”
More than anything, I wanted to make her answer. Concede to the truth of what she was and what she craved. But, I’d promised to take care of her, and I knew exactly what she needed.
I climbed off her and turned my head while sinking to sit on the edge of the bed, offering her privacy to trek across my bedroom. The toilet flushed, and I scrubbed a hand down my face. I should have said no. Should have fuckin’ kept my goddamn hands to myself.
Chapter Ten
I called in sick the next morning, exhausted from crying for hours and afraid to see Zane. Jenny had pounced on me the second I walked through the door, and I spilled it all out, every detail, every perfect second replaying through my mind. She scoffed at my tears and pretend swooned with jealousy.
Me? Guilt seemed to swamp me in mire and muck, ruining what had been the best night of my life.
“Shit.”
My new favorite word flitted across my lips for at least the hundredth time, and I rolled over and punched the pillow beneath my head. The clock read 10:15 a.m., and Zane had already tried my cell. Twice, notification of a text chimed, but unable to get my emotions in order with my mind, I ignored those as well.
One night with Zane had wrecked me for anyone else. While some might still consider me a virgin, I would one day enter into a marriage tainted, already touched, already used. Our hours together also revealed what I’d feared about myself—I got off on pain, and would experience difficulty in finding satisfaction in marrying some nice guy, parent and church approved.
With a sigh, I clenched my eyes shut. There was no way on God’s green earth I would be content with a boring man and missionary position sex. I wanted more of what Zane could offer. I wanted to lose myself in his world, in his touch, in the pain that brought pleasure.
I wanted to do what pleased him and watch him finally lose control.
Sicko. What you need to do is go to church, repent, and find a normal man.
Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes. Again. I needed to get ahold of my desire and squash it for the sin it was.
****
The next day being Saturday, I stayed in bed way past my usual time. Zane tried calling me five times throughout the day, all of which I ignored. Sunday morning, I skipped church, and he called twice before I even made it to the kitchen to get myself some coffee.
An hour later, a knock sounded on the door.
Jenny hopped up and peered through the peep hole while I held my breath. She turned, her eyes wide as she bit back a grin. “Told you he wouldn’t be denied.”
I hopped off the couch and hurried to my bedroom. “Tell him I don’t want to see him.” The door clicked shut behind me, and I pressed in the lock before thumping my forehead against the jamb.
Murmuring reached my ears, but no distinctive words. I heard the front door shut, and Jenny’s footsteps came toward my room.
“He’s gone, Raq,” she said from the other side of my bedroom door.
“Thank God.” I pulled it open to find Jenny scowling.
“What the heck are you doing? The poor man looks like a puppy kicked to the curb. Tears in his eyes and all.”
“Tears?”
“Yes.” She shook her head and turned away. “I hope you know what you’re doing. He obviously wants more than a one night stand with you. If I were you, I’d grab hold of that man for as long as I could and hope for the best.”
I followed her down the hall back toward the living room. “The best being finding myself used up and discarded with only gifts his money bought me?”
She rounded on me, hands on hips. “A ring. Marriage and possibly happiness. Heck, from what you said about the pain/pleasure thing, maybe even fulfillment.”
I pulled up short as though she’d slapped me. “With Zane?”
“Yes. Hot as all get-out, kinky, mad-for-you Zane Risso.”
My tongue refused to work, and I stared at her.
“I’m serious,” she went on, her face stormy yet covetous. “He’s been after you for months. Months. Who does that? I’ll tell you who. A man who is so far gone on you, he asks you out every day, relentless and determined to make you his own. He was even going to ask your father for permission to court you, for crying out loud!”
I thought back to his seriousness and the sincerity of his tone I had questioned when he’d told me that. “You think he really meant it?”
“In my opinion, if he thought he stood half a chance, he’d fall to his knees and beg you to be his for the rest of his life.”
Something had changed from the earlier days in my office when he’d corner me and whisper naughty, panty-wetting things into my ear. His words and the usual intensity in his eyes had definitely lost a bit of their playfulness in the previous week.
My phone rang.
“Answer it, or I’m kicking you out of this apartment,” Jenny said, pointing to my room.
I scurried back the hall and grabbed up the phone. Zane. “Hi.”
“Raquel.” Relief filled his tone. “Please don’t hang up. I’m sorry. Sorry for not having the strength to say no to you. Sorry for fucking up and taking things too far. I should have known better. Should have listened to my conscious—”
“What we did was my idea.” I wasn’t one for interrupting, but I couldn’t allow him to blame himself. “I’m the one who suggested we go to your place. I’m the one who asked you to show me a taste of your lifestyle.”
“Yeah, but I should have said no. I was determined to be a changed man for you, give all that up in the hope we might find something together.”
I slumped onto my bed, snapping my gaping jaw shut. There it was again—confirmation he wanted more than my body in his bed, but I focused on the final thing he’d said, a knife twisting in my stomach. “People with kinky tastes can’t have a real relationship beyond the sex?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, sure they can. I just never imagined in a million years you’d be into anything more than vanilla.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip, having the same thought about myself. “I’ve always been turned on by reading about pain giving pleasure, but I never believed I’d actually like it.”
“You don’t sound too happy about that confession.”
Even though he couldn’t see me, I shrugged. “Hopefully it’s just a phase.”
He chuckled. “Trust me, if you need it, you need it.”
Silence settled for a few seconds while my thoughts swarmed like a hive of bees. Time to pull up my big girl panties and figure out what was what, and where we were headed. “Were you really going to try to change for me?”
“I was.”
“So it’s possible to give it up.”
“I said
I was going to try to go vanilla for you, but I knew I’d see my handprint on that hot ass before long.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine as images of the spanking slammed into my mind. Instant lust had my sex clenching. I slumped and shut my eyes. “What could have possibly triggered my love for pain? It’s like … like I’ve got some sickness—”
“Don’t you dare say that.” He sounded mad. “Millions of people misunderstand the BDSM lifestyle and might think that, but trust me, there is nothing wrong with you.”
“But the idea, the memory of the pain…” An involuntary moan escaped me.
“Christ.” His tone lowered, all sexy and rumbly, dampening my panties. “Have dinner with me tonight, gorgeous.” Ever the Dom, telling me what to do. I liked it.
My father’s words, “bad news,” whispered in my brain, while my body craved to be near Zane again, craved the pain. The pleasure I knew he could give me. I bit down on my lip, my mind and lady parts at war.
“Raquel?”
Good God, the way he said my name. My traitorous body won out. I wanted more. Another taste.
I inhaled a deep breath and slowly let it escape my parted lips. It was time to own up to what I wanted. No more living a lie, living the life my parents expected of me.
“Yes,” I whispered, pushing up my glasses.
“Was that a yes?” Zane asked.
“Yes, Sir.”
He groaned. “Goddamn, woman, you stir my blood.”
I smiled, pleased as peaches my simple words of submission could inflict such need in his voice.
“My place. Six o’clock. And Raquel?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Don’t wear any panties.”
He hung up, and I peered down at my phone. Arrogant Dom. He’d stolen my heart months earlier, and I prayed he didn’t leave it in shreds once he tired of me.
Chapter Eleven
A timid knock sounded, and I turned down Aldean’s latest single to an almost muted tone. Adrenaline spiked in the form of butterflies in my stomach. Fuckin’ butterflies for Christ’s sake.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I opened my door, and my breath left in a rush. Raquel. She was what had gotten into me—my mind, my dreams. She’d given me hope for a more fulfilling life.
