Re/Paired

by Michele Zurlo

  She watched him anxiously, her muscles taut with need. He loved the wanton way she responded to him. Shifting on his knees to get the right angle, he positioned his cockhead at her opening. This first time, he’d take her slowly, let her become accustomed to the way he felt inside.

  He eased into her velvet warmth. She trembled with the effort it took to hold still. While she couldn’t move much, she could wiggle and buck if she really wanted. He’d restricted her movements instead of outright restraining her.

  Another inch, and she sucked in a breath, but she didn’t close her eyes.

  “That’s it, Kitty Kat. Keep your eyes on me. Hide nothing.”

  Her hot walls fluttered around his cock, and she whimpered as he buried himself deep. “Master.” She gasped his title, a plea and an exclamation.

  To answer, he withdrew and thrust again. The spreader bar and the way he’d positioned her arms meant he couldn’t lean forward to hold himself over her while he fucked her. No, this position dictated a leisurely pace, if only because he had to sit up.

  It afforded him the opportunity to see how playing with her nipples and clit affected her responses. He reached up and tweaked one nipple. The redness from their earlier play had faded, but they were still a bit swollen. She tossed her head and arched her back, offering more.

  He alternated breasts, pinching lightly with each thrust. She whimpered and writhed beneath him. He felt her frustration building, and he reveled in it. He abandoned her breasts, lifted her hips a little higher, and ruined the rhythm. This wasn’t supposed to get either of them anywhere. He wanted to see how far he could push her before she misbehaved.

  Her eyebrows drew together, and her lips pressed in a thin line. Her breathing normalized. At last she snapped, “I never knew you were such a pussy tease.”

  Just to madden her further, he slowed his pace. “It’s my absolute favorite thing, Kitty Kat.”

  She closed her eyes, so he slapped her exposed clit. Her lids flew open, but she didn’t yelp or gasp. She regarded him with wonder and expectation. This development interested him. She’d been exceptionally nervous about being flogged, but she didn’t seem to have the same reservations about pain play on her breasts or pussy.

  He slapped her three more times, and her pussy squeezed around his cock. It hurt just enough for him to quicken his pace. If she kept tightening on him, he wasn’t going to remain in control for much longer. She thrashed her head from side to side.

  Pressing his fingers hard against her clit, he rubbed. If she liked the stinging sensation, she should find this annoying. His goal was to distract her from the urge to climax, but it backfired. Her pussy convulsed wildly, and she cried out. He slowed his movements to draw out her moment of enjoyment. It helped stave off his need to orgasm as well.

  “Thank you, Master.” Passion blurred her eyes and slurred her words.

  “It’s time you learned to ask before your take what belongs to me. No more orgasms without permission. Understood?”

  Her gaze focused, and a pleased smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Yes, Master. I understand.”

  He withdrew and flipped her over. This forced her to kneel with her ass straight up in the air, her arms still wrapped around her legs, and her weight resting on her right shoulder and the side of her face. She was helpless now, and he planned to show her what that meant.

  Gripping her hips hard to hold her in place, he plunged into her, not stopping until his balls hit her exposed pussy. Then he fucked her with quick, rough thrusts. He kept the rhythm even when he reached underneath to twist her nipples. Immediately, she emitted a low moan. Within seconds, another followed. Each time he touched her breasts, she lost control a little more. Her pussy fluttered, a preorgasmic sign he was coming to know well.

  “Don’t come, slave. You don’t have permission.” With that warning, he gave her nipple a particularly vicious pinch. She buried her face in the bedcover and screamed, doing exactly what he’d told her not to do.

  He gritted his teeth against the need to follow her over that cliff and fucked her faster. Impossibly, her body bowed, and the convulsions came harder. She gasped and sobbed, losing herself in the sensations he knew overwhelmed her mind and body. Her reaction combined with the delicious heat inside him. He wanted more, so much more, but he couldn’t withstand the onslaught. Muttering a low oath, he gave in and came.

  The edges of his vision turned white. He forced his consciousness back from the brink. He couldn’t leave her bound like this much longer. With clumsy, lethargic hands, he released the strips holding her cuffs in place. It was easier than removing them from the spreader bar.

  Then he attended to the mechanics of the situation, laying her down on the bed with her head on a pillow and the sheet covering her cooling body. He disposed of the condom in her bathroom and brought back a damp cloth to clean away her juices and the still-slick trail of semen on her stomach. Checking her skin wasn’t a priority. He hadn’t done anything lasting. She might still be a bit sensitized, but no trace of the flogging remained.

  When he finished, he found himself at a loss. He wasn’t the kind of Dom who cuddled with his subs. That was part of the reason his subs left. He had no tenderness or affection to give. He liked them, and he appreciated their submission, but he didn’t particularly want to be close to them. If she were anyone else, he could have parked himself in the chair across the room and waited for her to recover.

  Kat deserved more. They all did, but Kat was the first woman for whom he considered changing his routine. Normally he would wait a few more minutes and continue the scene.

  However, he didn’t want Kat to learn to expect less from a Dom. If he was honest, he knew he was training her for someone who would cherish the gift of her submission, someone who knew how to love a woman. Therefore he could rationalize and justify his next action. He slid into bed next to her and took her in his arms, holding her stiffly. She nestled her head against his shoulder and rested her hand on his chest.

  He remained in place for the longest time. Ticking noises announced when her air conditioner kicked on and off. Gradually he felt his body relax as it acclimated to this foreign stimulation. Her hand moved over his bare chest, tracing small patterns on his skin in an intimate caress he’d never before allowed. Something deep inside cracked, and he panicked, but he covered it well.

  Closing his hand over hers, he halted her exploration. “You didn’t fall asleep. Good. We’re not finished with the scene.”

  She smiled. He felt the small movement against his shoulder a second before she pressed a kiss there. “You’re an insatiable Master.”

  More than she could possibly know. There was a void inside him he’d tried to fill his entire life, but nothing had yet done the trick. Exercising his dominance brought him the closest to fulfillment, but even that only provided temporary relief.

  Bringing up the arm he used to hold her against his side, he palmed her breast. She shifted, brushing her leg over his and arching to give him more access. Everything in him protested the sensuality of her action. It tapped his vast reserves of self-loathing and bitterness. He didn’t deserve someone like Kat. He hated himself for taking so much from her, but he couldn’t be someone he wasn’t. He had warned her. Like the others, she had ignored it.

  Like the others, she would learn the hard way.

  Twisting his hand in the hair at the base of her head, he urged her to tilt her face toward his. Then he captured her lips with a punishing kiss. Who he was punishing was open for debate.

  “REMEMBER WHEN I told you that I enjoy causing pain?”

  Katrina nodded. Some of Keith’s actions puzzled her. He seemed to vacillate between tender and rough, almost as if he couldn’t decide which course to take. At times she caught glimpses of the man she knew, the friend who would do anything for her. Then a stranger would take his place. His expression would harden, and his eyes would grow cold and remote.

  She knew he wrestled demons of several varieties, but she
had no idea how much he normally kept under wraps. She wasn’t surprised when he took care of her after the first part of the scene ended, but she had been a little shocked when he pulled her into his arms voluntarily. In the past, he’d rarely initiated physical contact.

  She had no trouble remembering his reasons for turning her down a week ago. He was afraid she’d see his dark side and she’d run screaming. Some of it might be difficult or painful to face, but she wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I remember. Are you going to spank me now?” She deserved it. In the back of her mind, she felt guilty for coming without permission right after he’d warned her against it. Though he had said he didn’t dole out physical punishments, she could see where what she would consider retribution, he might consider discipline or teaching. Keith’s entire life operated according to his own rules.

  “No.” He pushed her hair back from her face and traced a caress along her temple. “I will take a moment to remind you that using your safe word is the only way to stop me. Protesting, begging, pleading—none of these will have any effect on my actions. I’m going to tie you up and fuck your ass. Since you’re so experienced that way, I won’t go easy on you.”

  She sincerely doubted his plans were as simple as bondage and sex. He’d said he wanted to hurt her, which meant he had something else up in that torture bag, and he meant it to be a surprise. Part of her wanted to protest, to call out her safe word and plead tiredness. The braver part of her, the part determined to show him that she could be the woman he needed, kicked the sissy out of her head.

  The analytical piece of her personality threw out her next question. This often helped her at work, so she didn’t keep a tight rein on that impulse. “Do you like to hear protesting and begging and pleading?” She felt she could do those things and be quite sincere. It would be an outlet for her fears.

  He stilled the hand that had been caressing her face and arm. “I don’t like acting, especially bad acting. If it’s an honest reaction, then I like it. If not, I’d prefer not to hear it. I did bring a gag.”

  She heard that warning loud and clear. He wanted to drive her to desperation. He didn’t want her to arrive there through artificial channels. “No acting. Good to know.”

  The world tilted suddenly as he rolled her onto her back and pinned her to the mattress with the length of his body. Because his move had been so unexpected, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He pried them loose and pressed them down beside her head. She felt protected and powerless, completely engulfed by his presence. Even the air she breathed was heavy with his masculine scent. It all combined to make her wet and ready.

  The edge of impatience tightened in the lines around his mouth. “Master.”

  For some reason, probably his relaxed demeanor and the fact that he was taking the time to explain things to her, she’d thought they’d suspended protocol. “I’m sorry, Master. I appreciate your patience.”

  The line, something they’d joked about as being a snarky way for companies who kept customers on hold to remind them who was really in charge, elicited a raised brow from him. She’d meant it, but there was no way to say it without sounding a little condescending.

  When his expression didn’t change, she scrambled to do some damage control. “Seriously, Master. I meant that. You are very patient. And a little scary.”

  He lowered his face to hers and nipped her lower lip. “Scary means you don’t trust me. I’d never do anything I didn’t think you could handle.”

  She knew that. She also knew he probably had some pretty insidious plans. While she might be able to handle whatever he threw her way, that didn’t mean she didn’t fear it. “I do trust you, Master. But I know you too well to think you didn’t mean it when you said you got off on causing pain. That’s a little scary to me, but not enough to make me chicken out.”

  The raw desire on his face when he’d put those clamps on her had only underlined his sadistic tendencies. And she’d really liked being on the receiving end.

  Instead of responding or letting her study his nonverbal reaction, he closed the distance and kissed her. It was a long, thorough kiss, the kind that possessed and controlled without being violent.

  When he changed the tempo, fucking his tongue into her mouth and then trailing a series of sucking bites down her neck, she responded on a primal level. Writhing under his slow attack, she sought both to escape the stinging points of contact and to bring him closer. She couldn’t help but notice how her desperate movements solidified his hard-on.

  “Don’t ever hide or fake your reactions.” He sucked her nipple into his mouth, trapping it between his teeth and tongue before letting it go. “I need to be able to read you at all times. If you hide things, it makes it difficult to read you, which can lead to some unintended consequences.” Back and forth, he tortured her breasts until she cried out.

  He regarded her expectantly. She stared back, uncertain what he wanted. At last she said, “Yes, Master.”

  That seemed to satisfy him. It dawned on her that he’d asked her to bare herself to him. He’d warned her that he’d ask for everything from her and give nothing in return. She wondered if he considered this request a step in that direction. The irony nearly made her laugh. He wanted to know her reactions so he could make sure the scenes were good for them both. While he didn’t say as much, he had already taken steps to get to know her body in a way no other man had. He’d spent the evening studying her reactions, planning his next move based on what he thought she wanted.

  And he presented it as a selfish thing. Only Keith would see it that way.

  He knelt up and hauled her with him. “On your knees. Face the headboard. I’m going to bind your arms and legs first, and then I’m going to make you scream and possibly beg.” He said it in the same matter-of-fact tone he used during depositions. No emotion, just facts. Somehow that made it all the more sinister, which caused another rush of desire between her thighs.

  The headboard of her bed consisted of a series of slats. He took the padded cuffs from the spreader bar and put them back around her wrists. Instead of using the snaps to attach them, he threaded a few feet of rope through the snap on one, around a center slat, and through the other snap. When he finished, she had enough leeway to wrap her hands around the long, rectangular top piece, which meant she could only move them inches away from where he’d tied her.

  He grabbed the pillows from the bed and tossed them on the chair next to her door. Then he pulled her back so that she had to bend forward and rest her weight on the headboard to stay upright. When she was in the perfect, exposed position, he guided her legs farther apart.

  From his bag of tricks, he extracted a length of rope that was at least an inch in diameter. He wrapped it around the middle of her left thigh and secured it to the bed frame beneath the mattress. With a second line, he secured her other leg in the same fashion.

  Though she was only bound at three points, she found it surprisingly difficult to move. The position of her arms meant she couldn’t rest back on her heels, and her body was effectively held in place by the ropes on her legs, so she couldn’t scoot forward to find a different balance. She was stuck, legs spread wide apart, exactly how he wanted. Desire burned hot. This kind of decadence held great appeal.

  He moved around her, checking and rechecking the places where things wrapped around her body. “If you experience numbness or tingling in your hands, wrists, legs, or feet, call yellow and tell me what’s going on. Got it?”

  “Yes, Master.” Right now her pussy was the only thing tingling, and he hadn’t indicated that he had plans for it.

  He held up a strip of black leather studded with metal loops and rivets, and she recognized it as a bondage collar. Without asking permission, he buckled it into place and checked the fit. As he stared at her, a bit of peace settled into his eyes. He nodded, a quick action heavy with finality. “This means you’re mine.”

  Katrina swallowed, and the weight of the collar shifted with the movement
. It was odd, heavy and bulky, almost alien. At the same time, a place deep inside responded to this show of possession. For the first time, she felt like they weren’t just playing a game. This was for real. She would grow accustomed to the collar.

  He hadn’t asked a question, so she didn’t respond. Not that it mattered. He’d already turned back to his bag and was fishing around inside for something else.

  She gasped when he dumped a bag of stainless steel clothespins on the bed next to her knee. Several slid into the indent she made and bumped into her skin. They were cool to the touch. She’d only ever seen clothespins made from wood or plastic. She’d clamped them on her skin before. Sometimes they hurt, especially when they were pulled off. Something about these being metal lent them a menacing quality. She shivered, half in fear and half in anticipation.

  Keith climbed onto the bed and knelt so that he was facing her, yet he didn’t pay one whit of attention to her. His entire consideration went to her chest. Tied to the bed, bound into position, she had become his plaything, just as he’d warned her. Excitement curled low in her belly, but she wasn’t sure she should embrace it. If she consented to being objectified like this, did she have to turn in her feminist card?

  He plumped one breast, squeezing and kneading the tenderized flesh.

  Unable to help it, she hazarded a glance at those menacing steel torture tools. That was when she noticed he was wearing his pants.

  “You got dressed?” That came out sounding a little more upset than she’d intended. She tried to make amends with the way she said his title. “Master.”

  His lips curled in that sinfully sexy smile that stopped her heart every time she saw it. He didn’t otherwise answer. Thinking about it, she realized it was another way to emphasize the power shift. She was naked and powerless. He was clothed and dominant. When she considered that perspective, she was less upset.

  While she was distracted by her need to rationalize everything, he clipped the first clothespin onto her nipple. It exerted less pressure than the clamp, but it still pinched. When she’d experimented with clothespins before, she hadn’t tried them on areas that were this tender. Her mistake.