He turned the vibrator down, but it wasn’t to give her relief. He put his hand back between her legs to play with her cunt, rub slow circles over her throbbing clit. As he did that, his other fingers slipped under the thong and pushed inside her, began to thrust. The vibration on her rim connected the three points of contact, all while he licked and bit her other nipple, suckling hard, nipping when she least expected it so she’d jerk against him.
The next climax was worse. She’d heard about forced orgasms, how they were agonizing and unforgettable at once, a way to break the mind, and she had no doubt of it after the third one crashed over her.
“Stop…stop…” It was a plea, a demand, a snarl and a curse.
Leland did stop, but he left her as she was, her breasts exposed, the bra cups pulled back, her leggings at her knees, mouth stretched over the gag, and sat back in his seat. He was revved up himself, his breath short, those golden eyes now like embers, his arm muscles bunched beneath his shirt sleeves. Her gut twisted when he fished a condom out of his console, laid it on the dash and opened his jeans. As she watched hungrily, he closed his hand over himself beneath cotton boxers and stretched out a sizable cock before her eyes. Beautiful and thick, the butterscotch-colored skin taut over its length, the slit of the broad head marked with pre-come. Her pussy, still throbbing, contracted on itself, and she felt way too empty. She wanted him inside her.
Tearing the condom open, he rolled it on and then gripped himself again, beginning to stroke. His eyes rested on her exposed breasts, her bare thighs, the small swatch of black vinyl covering her cunt. Being tied up and used as his personal pinup while he gave himself release should have been insulting, humiliating. Instead she felt anything but. She was hot, needy, angry and wanting him, even as she wanted to tear into him.
“Got to give myself some relief, darlin’, because I’m not anywhere near done with you.”
As he stroked himself, cupped his balls and rolled them, she imagined her mouth there, imagined him forcing her facedown in his lap to make her suck him off. Which shocked her in some distant part of her overwhelmed mind, since she hadn’t given head much in her life, for plenty of good reasons. Down on her knees, helpless to a male…
Right now, though, it didn’t seem to matter. She wanted her mouth on him. When she tried to lick her lips despite the gag, he chuckled.
“Oh, no. Won’t tempt me with that maneuver. I can tell you’re in full fight mode. I’d be taking a trip to the emergency room.”
He was right. She couldn’t explain it. Some part of her was ashamed, no idea why she was fighting him, trying to hurt him, why all these feelings were raging inside her, at war with her sexual response though they’d been summoned by it. Her body was still twitching from those forced climaxes, but her mind seemed to be sinking below the level of pleasure, into a darker place. She started to feel like shit about herself, about the whole situation, but he saw that, too.
“No, not going down yet.” He turned the vibrator on a slow hum and when she whimpered in protest, he made a quieting noise. “If you’re good, I’ll take out the gag. Can you be good?”
She shook her head, and he smiled at that, though there was no humor in his gaze. He extracted the gag anyway, put it in the back. While his cock jutted between his thighs, waiting for his attention, her eyes clinging to it, he took the time to remove a handkerchief from the console, dry the corners of her mouth.
Only then did he sit back, take himself in hand again. “Make me harder, Celeste,” he ordered in that stern voice, a contrast to how he’d just cosseted her. “Roll your hips, arch your back. I can smell your come soaking that towel. Nine times. You’re going to come for me nine times before I get you home, because those are nine climaxes that belonged to me.”
“This is just our first real date,” she managed lamely. “You didn’t tell me…”
“I told you I don’t date. You’re looking for a Master, Celeste, not a date. You want the type of Master who can handle all that fear and anger you’re carrying inside you. Bring it to the surface, let you get past it to feel what you need to feel.”
She refused to answer that, an answer in itself.
His breath shortened. “Don’t take this as an indication of my staying power, darlin’,” he said, flashing a feral grin at her. “I’ve been fucking steel since I sat down on that bench. I just want to get this out of the way so I can get back to playing with you. Christ, you’re gorgeous, tied up and helpless, your clothes half pulled off.”
Just like that, he started to come. He’d pulled his shirt up out of the way, so she saw the muscles of his lower abdomen ripple in response as come started to spray inside the tip of the condom. The tissues between her legs contracted against the low hum of the vibrator, and she found herself doing as he’d demanded, rolling her hips against it, arching her back. When he reached out to touch her breast during his climax, his hand flexing against it in involuntary response, she cried out, working her hips more furiously. Christ, it was happening again. It was short and intense, but watching him come, his mere touch on her breast while he self-pleasured, tipped her over again.
She wanted to see him naked. That large body, all muscles and honey-gold flesh, the impressive cock erect. She wanted to be lying on his bed, spread for his pleasure, trembling the way she was now, feeling overpowered not by restraints or orders, but just by his sheer size and the power of his gaze, which seemed to keep her locked in place as he stared at her. His eyes never left her throughout his release, telling her she was the center of it, the cause of it.
When he finished, her fingers were locked against the rings holding her wrists to the sides of the seat. He tucked himself back into his pants, but instead of releasing her, he chose a new way to torment her.
He turned over the ignition.
Straightening, he touched the side of her face, tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Let’s take the long way home.”
The windows were tinted, so no one could see into the vehicle. But she still felt exposed, for he did nothing to cover her, leaving her as she was. He also bumped the vibrator up a notch or two, coupling it with an order sure to make her lose her mind.
“No fidgeting, Celeste. You just have to absorb the feeling.”
She’d thought he was kidding about taking the long way home, but he wasn’t. He drove downtown, past the Old State Capitol building that looked like a castle on the outside and had the sacred hush and old wood smell of a church inside, down to the riverfront where she could see the petroleum companies and other industries with their billowing white smoke in the distance. The sun was setting, moving the day into twilight.
When Leland drove through one of the poorly maintained pay parking lots across from the river, that was where she came again, thanks to the bumps from the broken pavement. As they passed a rusted panel cut with slots, where patrons put their folded bills to pay for a parking space, she had a glazed impression of the bold message printed on it. Parking is never free.
He took her past the current State Capitol building, an art deco monolith that pierced the sky with its nearly thirty floors. She came again when he was driving through Spanish Town, such that she was staring at a cluster of plastic pink flamingos in someone’s yard as she groaned through the waves of sensation.
Her seductive torturer was pointing out some of the houses he liked best. “If you could live in one of them, where would you live? Tell me, darlin’.”
He meant it, sharpening his tone in that way that had her gasping out answers to his questions. But she also demanded he let her go. Called him a bastard once or twice. He’d just put the car back in drive and they’d move on. She hit orgasm eight when he pulled into an empty shopping center parking lot. He kissed her through it, teasing her mouth. She bit him again, only this time it was frantic, sensual little nips, not the savage tearing that had gripped her earlier.
Cupping her head, he kissed her thoroughly, his tongue lashing hers. The more ruthless he was, the more gent
le his touch, the softer his kisses. She’d started to register that. It devastated her, broke her open. She pleaded with him now, noises without words. He must have seen her fear when he lifted his head, because he stroked her face, staying so close to her their foreheads almost touched.
“You’re safe with me, Celeste. All of it. Everything you are.”
“No more. Please.”
“Ssshh.” He slid his arms around her. “We’re taking a little break. Just relax. Be easy.”
The vibrator had stopped again. Though she didn’t trust it would stay that way, his soothing touch helped steady her. Helped get her feet beneath her, pull some of her defenses together.
“We…” She coughed, tried to pull away. “We should be talking about safe words.”
He settled back, but not by much. His hand rested on her thigh, his other forearm propped on the headrest above her. “We can do that. What’s your safe word, Celeste?”
“What word would make you feel safe, Celeste? You can’t afford for there to be men who stand fast, who protect, who love with all they are. Who don’t leave. Who take honor, commitment, and responsibility seriously. You can’t afford to trust your fate to the hands of another, not for a moment.”
It was like a fist reached into her chest, wrapped around her suddenly cold heart and squeezed it like a grape. She yanked herself out of the memory of that night at Club Surreal, away from the Dom with the knowing eyes, whose words had stripped her raw. He’d accurately guessed what word should have made her feel safe. A word she'd wished had represented safety, but never had.
“I don't want a safe word,” she said sullenly, ignoring the fact she’d brought it up.
“Not an option,” Leland responded. “I'll give you one. ‘Byline.’” But here's the thing, Celeste. When you use it, everything stops. Period. We're done.”
Did they read from the same playbook? The Dom at the club had set the same line in the sand. “So that's it for you and me? Game over, everything? Your way or no way?”
“No.” He didn’t appear to take offense at her belligerent tone. If anything, he seemed to become more patient. She wanted to hate him. Someone that made her need him this much, this fast, needed to be hated. “It means the session's over and we're on a cooldown period,” he said. “The first time you do it, we won't have another session for a week. The next time you do it, it will be two weeks. Third time, three. After that, no more chances. Fourth strike is game over.”
She blinked at him, sure he was joking, but she knew he wasn’t. “This isn't dating,” he reminded her. “There's a structure to this, and I set the framework. When a sub like you uses her safe word, typically at first it's a way to cry wolf, yank a Dom's chain, control the situation. You're trying to control your downhill slide.”
“That’s usually a good survival technique. Alligators could be waiting at the bottom.”
“True. But maybe something else is waiting down there as well.”
“What?”
“You have to trust me enough to find that out yourself. Ruins the surprise if I tell you.”
Was he teasing her, trying to get her to lighten up? She wasn’t biting. She sneered. “So you set all the rules, everything.”
“Pretty much. And not really.” He reached out and stroked those long strands of hair out of her eyes, touched her nose. “You can be a brat all day long, Celeste, whatever you need. But no crying wolf.”
“What if I'm just scared?”
“Then you tell me that.” His eyes did that sharpening thing, like gold struck by sunlight, and she realized he hadn’t been teasing her at all. “That's what I'm trying to teach you. To trust me with what's inside.”
“Will you take the cuffs off my hands now?”
“You owe me one more orgasm. Then we’ll talk about that.”
No. She couldn’t possibly. When he reached for the vibrator controls she was prepared to beg. But he was just placing the remote control into the console. Reaching over her, under her, he unfastened the Velcro and removed the thong, carefully working it out of the clasp of her buttocks, away from her soaking wet pussy. Then he pushed her leggings all the way down to her ankles. He was folded over her lap while he did that, his chest against her bare thigh. She thought of his back, wide and strong under her palms when he was first kissing her at the mall, and she wanted to be holding on to him again.
She couldn’t ask for anything right now. What was he doing? Her brain was simultaneously on overdrive and overloaded, exhausted from an array of conflicting emotions. In some distant corner, she realized she was relying on him to know where to take this next.
He straightened, gave her that penetrating look. Closing his hands on her knees, he spread them out as far as the hold of her clothing at her ankles would allow. Reaching over her, he eased the seat back, taking her down so she was gazing at the ceiling of the truck.
“Didn’t have enough of eating your pussy the other night, so I’m going to enjoy another meal there.”
She was so sensitive that the first touch of his mouth, the slight prickle of his evening shadow, had her crying out in protest. She fought his hold and found she couldn’t match his strength, not even to move an inch. As he teased her with breath and tongue, the deliberate rasp of his beard over her clit and labia, discomfort started turning into another one of those agonizing spirals upward. He straightened when she was starting to move against his face and replaced his tongue with his fingers, holding her gaze as he slid two thick fingers inside her, pushing his thumb up under her clit hood, making her cry out as he worried that over stimulated bud.
“Drives you nuts, doesn’t it? Feels terrible and good, all at once. You want me to suck on it instead, stroke it nice and slow? Rock you to climax like a baby? Take care of you the way a Master should? Like you’re my baby, all mine?”
Her gaze clung to him, desperate. Yes. Why couldn’t she form the words? Why did such things bring a jagged lump to her throat too sizable to speak around, a wall she couldn’t get past? She parted her lips, swallowed. “Tell me,” he said, low.
“Byline,” she said.
§
It took every ounce of self-discipline Leland had to remember the rules, to draw back and do what he needed to do. The problem was, she’d given him a glimpse of what lay behind the wall. He’d only been half teasing her in the mall. When he’d considered finding his forever sub, he’d usually fantasized about someone sweet as a kitten, a woman he could cuddle and cherish as well as spank and restrain, collar. Punish her for minor infractions in a way that would be fun for both of them. But with Celeste he was realizing he wanted one he could tame, that came to him wild and fierce, who learned to trust his touch and care. Behind her angers and fears, he could see that kitten cowering and spitting in the shadows. All he wanted was for her to trust him enough to curl up in his palm. Maybe she’d hang on to it with her claws at first, thinking he’d drop her, but eventually she’d learn he never would.
He guessed a man could imagine all day long what he wanted, but Fate sent him what was needed, and laughed its ass off when a guy discovered getting what he wanted was going to be about as easy as making a touchdown across a bed of nails in bare feet.
So he pushed down his howl of protest, his knowledge that he could use her body’s responses and her emotions to make her forget she’d ever said that safe word, and instead gave her a short, impassive nod. “All right.”
Taking napkins from the console, he pressed them against her bare cunt. She kept herself smoothly shaved, a vision sure to torture his dreams tonight.
“What are you doing?” Her voice had a little break in it.
“Ssh.” He wasn’t in the mood to talk just yet. He pulled the leggings back up onto her hips and ass, lifting her up as needed to bring the skirt down over them. Her ass might be skinny by his standards, but it had a nice shape to it he was beginning to deeply appreciate. He forced himself not to linger too long with it. Adjusting the satin bra cups over her beautiful breasts,
he pulled her shirt back into place. Only then did he release her cuffs.
He anticipated her reaction, fortunately, because otherwise he might have a nice shiner. He caught her thrown fist, then the other wrist when she tried to strike at him with that hand. When she struggled, snapped at him, he gave her a little shake. “Stop it,” he said sternly. “It’s done, Celeste. No reason to fight. Session’s done. Just you and me, not Master and sub.”
As it penetrated, he made his tone milder, though his heart was wrenched by her lost expression. She was definitely advanced material for a Master. He was glad for the years of experience he had. It helped him see that she could speak her safe word to protect herself and yet still be caught up in the haze of lust and emotions that had tangled her up in her submission to him, brief and sweet though it was.
When she eventually pulled back, wanting to draw in, reestablish her space, he allowed it, seeing she was back with him. She cleared her throat, cleared it again. He found the bottle of water in the takeout bag, opened it and offered it to her. Her hands were shaking so badly, he helped steady the bottle as she held it. Her hazel eyes watched him as he stroked her cheekbone.
When she lowered the bottle, he removed his hand, but only after a caress of her temple with his knuckle. “Enough water?”
She nodded.
“Okay. Hold on to it, just in case.” He screwed the cap back on for her before he put the truck in drive. Thanks to the circuitous route they’d taken, they weren’t far from The Mall, and it didn’t take long to be back there. She told him where her car was when he asked, but beyond that they didn’t speak. He was giving her time to collect herself, and himself time to think things through.
There was a space open by her car. He took it, came around to open her door. She sat there, unmoving, staring straight ahead.
“So that’s it.”
“For a week. If you want to continue, then we’ll get together after that.”
Soul Rest: A Knights of the Board Room Novel Page 11
