by Susan Arden
My body clenched in a spasm of scorching pleasure. He released my breast, standing to my side, his warm body a wall of muscle pressing against me. Graham lifted his glass of Scotch and sipped. Want a taste?”
“Please,” I said.
He took a long sip and smiled, leaning over he kissed me and let the warmed alcohol flow from his mouth into mine. Holy hell, what a way to down a shot.
“Mmm,” he murmured. His proximity was sheer torture. “You need to learn patience and how to deal with your impulsive nature,” he said, tweaking my nose softly and moving away from the bed. He smelled of the sandalwood-based cologne he typically wore and the Scotch on his breath. I hungered for his mouth on me and gritted my teeth, pulling at the ropes securing my ankles.
He lit incense and flipped on the stereo. Music poured into the space. The rolling drums were similar to what had played during the yoga session where we’d met. The atmosphere of the room intoxicated me. The urge to taste him, feel his body, was overpowering. I flexed, pulling at the ties binding me. I tugged so hard the bite of the rope stung my wrist. I moved, going nowhere. “This is maddening.”
“This is a lesson.” He took a step back, still gazing into my eyes, and picked up a leather riding crop. He traced a pattern over my arms, grazing the tip at the curve of my breast before circling around each of my nipples. The junction between my legs pulsed with pleasure from each of his strokes.
“Clearly, you’re teasing me. Is that what tonight will be like?” I demanded. “I need more.”
His hand curled around the riding crop and he slapped the smooth leather tongue against his other palm. His cock tented his trousers, and his hooded eyes shone with a barely concealed feral fire fueled by lust.
“No. This isn’t about spinning out of control to what you want. Sensory stimulation is meant to heighten your awareness, a type of metacognition. Baby, you will learn to consider your thoughts instead of reacting blindly. No more by-the-seat-of-your-pants moves unless you’d like that flawless ass of yours a few shades short of cherry-red.” He was holding back. His calm voice reverberated inside my head.
On top of the bed, I was secured and open to the idea of his binding my body as the gateway to find my edge. But at this moment, I was so ready to turn inside out that I gritted my teeth and growled, “You’re pushing me.”
“That’s right. And you’d better decide if you’re in or out. This is your game. Your decision. Let the walls go. Trust yourself, Eliza. Trust me. I gave you my word; I’m going to let you into my world. Fully. You’re right. This is about us.” His gorgeous face was readable for once, and his unveiled hunger blasted open my need for him. Whatever he’d suggest, I’d do. No second-guessing inside this room.
“I’m in. I do trust you…and me.” I yanked at the binds.
He walked toward the foot of the bed. “You look delectable tied up and spread open just for me. This is how I dream of you.”
“Touch me,” I whispered. “Stop teasing me.”
“Baby, I’m not teasing you. This is a lesson in self-control. First, I’m going to finish preparing you. It’s what you want. What you need.”
He set down the crop, came over to me, lifted my hips, and pushed a pillow under my hips. Graham picked up a bottle of lubricant and arched a brow. He worked efficiently as the music flowed. He rubbed the liquid between my legs, spreading my cheeks. “Baby, take a breath.”
I inhaled, and he pushed a plug into my ass. I shuddered. There wasn’t any pain, only pressure and a sinful feeling of being at his whim. Vulnerable. Graham took up the riding crop again and returned to leisurely tracing a pattern over my skin, lower and lower until he was at the space between my legs. Goose bumps spread over my body as my nipples hardened. I was at the point of moaning.
“Do you like this? You’re swollen and wet.” He swiped the tip down me.
“Yes. Just do it. Stop waiting.” I cried out from shock as my body adjusted to the hedonistic massage—it wasn’t pain; it was a dark pleasure he disseminated.
“You don’t say a thing unless I give you permission. You have lost the right to speak and ask questions for now. You must earn the privilege. Understood?” he asked while stroking the crop between my legs. “If you don’t follow that direction, I will curb your nature to be so demanding when I’m in control. If we need to use a gag, we will.” He arched a brow at me, and I understood he wasn’t playing.
I nodded. I fought to remain silent as I watched him, waiting, anticipation buzzing through me.
“Good,” he whispered and walked around me.
He raised the crop and flicked it against the side of my mound, just shy of my clit. I flinched, pulling the bindings at my wrists. He flicked it again, bringing the tip down on the other side, so close yet not close enough to where I needed him. My stomach muscles contracted as stinging darts of pain shot through me. I moaned, careful to remain silent.
So difficult, when I felt a slew of words—pleas—tangled on my tongue, ready to shoot out of my mouth. Graham raised his arm and brought down the crop, the snap landing on the cleft of my pussy. He repeated flicking the tip of the crop across my body until tiny dots of perspiration sprang up over my skin. I arched as he raised his hand, and I watched the crop, holding my breath. I both feared and craved the impending snap of leather to my skin. I shuddered, afraid I’d cry out and demand more.
I moaned and tipped up my hips. Oh. God! If only the tip landed right there! Right down the center of my sex. I wiggled my hips over an inch, biting back a groan.
Graham’s eyes flashed. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice no longer soft but commanding. “I’m giving you permission to speak. Tell me.”
“Please. Do it.”
“Here. Do you mean?” He rubbed the flat leather tip between my legs. I closed my eyes, and he slid his fingers across me. Then, he expertly flicked the crop where he’d touched and stars exploded in my head. “Better tell me or I’m going to stop.”
I clenched my jaw. “Yes. Right there.”
“It’s so fucking sexy that you’re waxed. I can see your glistening clit peeking out.” His words and breath caressed my skin. I felt him swipe his finger over my clit, swirling around and around, and I tried to move and keep up with his finger.
“Stay still or I’ll secure you over the bench and have my way with you, little dove.”
Glancing at him, I shook my head. Our gazes locked together and he nodded, grunting, “Don’t tempt, me.”
Then I remembered seeing pictures online of women being bound over leather contraptions with their bottoms bared and legs spread. He flicked the crop between my legs and brought me back to the moment with his grunted exhalation. And another snap of the crop. Then another. I inhaled deeply, and a rush of fire and dampness spread between my legs. I clenched my jaw at his teasing me with unbearable pleasure.
He stopped and stared down at me. “So beautiful. Time to move to the next level.”
Graham snapped his wrist and I gasped at the sudden sharp sting. I opened my eyes wide, grasping that he’d used the riding crop with much greater force. He repeated flicking me with the leather tip, bringing the crop down between my legs where my thighs connected. “Eyes open. I thought we covered that rule already.”
I nodded, but he continued wielding the crop with short, fiery snaps and then harder with more bite. I whimpered, and a hint of a smile spread over his full lips as he swung the crop again. The tongue landed, delivering a stinging bite only to be raised again and lowered. He alternated but not in a pattern I could distinguish. I felt like a spring, coiling, ratcheting tighter. I needed him. He proved it, but what would it take to get him to give me what I wanted? The pain flittered away until the crop came down again in the same spot. It stung, and the pain corkscrewed.
“Now, I’m going to really spank your pussy.” His lips curved up wickedly.
I jerked my head up and gasped, “You’re going to what? No!”
Graham leaned over me, his eyes heated, an
d he fisted my hair with enough force to stop my mind spinning. “Yes. I. Am. Eliza, you’ll learn to take my discipline because it’s what you need. Isn’t this what we agreed on? But even so, you still have the power. Just say the word. So what is it, continue or stop?”
My eyelids fluttered. No crying! I swallowed. Beads of perspiration dotted my cheeks. I met his eyes. “Continue.”
“Good girl.” The next round of snaps rained down hard and quick. He struck my clit several times, and the sting echoed across my nerve endings. I bucked, focusing on the pain until Graham spoke. His fingers spread me open, and he continued spanking me in lightning fast snaps. I was so close to exploding. To shattering.
“Please. Please,” I begged, my voice hoarse, the area between my legs swollen and sensitive. He slipped a finger inside me, pumping his hand against me in long, hard strokes before he stopped and rubbed his fingers over my clit. I felt my slickness on his skin, and his eyes shone with dark, dark satisfaction.
“Fuck! You’re so wet,” he growled, his cock straining the front of his pants. He used the crop, striking it on my sex and then on my thighs. Each bite unfurled waves of electrical jolts of pleasure. I moaned, wanting to holler to please, please, please fuck me. I was coming undone. I didn’t know if I could take one more snapping pinch. He’d make me splinter apart.
“Tell me what you need,” he said in a low voice. Deep and erotic, his tone crept into my head and unlocked me from the inside out. He had me writhing and open to him. He didn’t stop; the crop came down again, a slap licking and weaving pain and pleasure across me. He slowed, leaving me panting. I was so on the edge. I wanted him to stop and let me rest.
“Answer me, Eliza.”
“You,” I hollered. “I need you.”
“God, you’ve got me.” Graham slid two fingers into me. “Baby, you’re drenched.”
He took the crop and ran it up and down my sex. Inch by inch—I was going to burst apart as he brought me to the point of shattering. “You don’t come unless I say so.”
I groaned out, “Yes.”
What he’d done felt so incredibly good. Too good. I couldn’t hold on much longer. I was coming undone, and he had me past the point of domination.
He pushed his finger into my mouth. “Suck it like it’s my dick. Suck me hard.”
My lips closed around his finger. I worked my mouth up and down his skin. I could taste myself. His pupils were dilated as though absorbing every flick of his tongue and what he did to me.
This is what we did, played at the edge crisscrossing between pleasure and pain. His hand threaded into my hair, and he removed his finger from my mouth. Graham spread his fingers over my face, and his mouth claimed mine. He kissed me without mercy, rough, long, and hard.
My scalp burned from him tugging on my hair. He tongue fucked my mouth, pushing me past all the walls I’d erected. I clung to him, feeling lost in being out-of-bounds. He crushed me under him; we were chest to chest, our heartbeats thundering.
“Baby, it’s time to make you come,” he breathed. “Would you like that?”
“More than anything,” I cried out.
He took off his trousers and untied my ankles. Graham moved over the mattress, positioning his body between my legs. I felt like I was floating underneath him, so near to exploding. He lifted my legs around his waist, and the head of his cock pressed into me. In one powerful thrust, he grunted and drove his length fully inside me, stretching me as liquid fire burned through my belly, melting between my legs. He wrapped his arm around me and pumped his hips, driving his cock into me. The anal plug added another erotic degree of pleasure, intense neon ecstasy.
I moaned, his mouth covered mine, and he groaned against my lips. His body arched back. I was ready as his hips pivoted, slamming against me. Again he drove his entire cock inside me in one power thrust and he groaned, “Holy fuck!”
With his face at my neck, his mouth sucked just the right spot. He proved he knew all about me, delivering thrusts so deep and powerful I yelled out his name. His pace increased, his jagged breath washed over my shoulder, and we were about to leap. Together.
Each time he pumped into me, the wave grew higher. I was too far gone. Graham thrust again. I let go. Broke apart.
“Oh, Graham,” I moaned.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered against my neck. “I want you to come. Now, Eliza. Don’t hold back!”
I couldn’t conceive how I’d manage to withstand what was up ahead. The fury of this moment had me shredded. The fire of our bodies burst.
Graham yelled my name. We came together, leaping over the edge. He wrapped his arms around me, kissing me, and thrusting deeper into me. The experience was everything from sweet to excruciating. Like him. Intense.
There was no me. There was no him. In that moment of coming undone, there was only us. For seconds, we lay together.
Touching my arms, he pushed upward, bending toward the corner of the mattress where he unknotted the ropes securing my wrists. I pulled him back to me, pressing my face into his chest.
Graham cradled me against him. He whispered against my face, “Is this what it’s like when you explode? Jesus Christ. I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of you.”
In that moment, I wondered the exact same thing. “I think I’ve met my match. And then some.” I smiled up at him.
He tenderly traced the line of my breast. “There’s so much more I can teach you.” His hands moved down my waist to around my hips, squeezing my flesh.
“Mmm,” I moaned, gazing into his eyes.
In the beginning, he’d held out his hand, tempting me to jump from a ledge I’d thought was safe. I’d faltered, wavering when all that was required was to trust him. Trust the fall.
His uncanny ability seduced me each night and was worth the risk. So yes, I’d take what he offered. With Graham, the nightmare of me being broken that usually crept around in the back of my mind, lurking in shadows, no longer haunted me at each turn. His domination freed me.
“We’re not done here tonight. Do you agree?” he asked.
“You opened a few doors though.” I smiled, pressing closer into him. In that moment, I surrendered to him.
“Then let me open a few more. Stay with me, baby. Not because you signed a contract but because you want to be with me. More than what we agreed. I want you here with me for as long as you want.” His face wasn’t a mass of shadows in that moment. In his eyes, I saw my reflection, and the part of him that was vulnerable.
“I’m not going anywhere, except with you and where you promised to take me.” I threaded my fingers through his hair, relishing how free what we had felt. “Show me what it means to play the edge. I’m ready.”
SUSAN ARDEN
"I love to laugh. More than anything in the world, humor is food for the spirit." Susan Arden is a third generation Floridian. Previously, a teacher in the fields of special education and biology, Susan now pursues her dream of writing fiction with several releases this year. Crafting sweet and spicy tales, she writes crazy-hot love stories across romance subgenres including contemporary (erotic), Western, fantasy/paranormal, and rock star.
Website: http://susanarden.blogspot.com
Twitter: @romancebysusan
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TEMPTED
TAKEN
LOVING THE SENATOR
THE MAUSOLEUM ROAD AFFAIR
COMMITTED TO YOU
COMPLICATED BY YOU
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
About the Author
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