Committed

by Sidney Bristol

  “I need to give you the tour,” he said, a plan taking shape.

  “Okay.”

  “Get your bag.”

  She rose off the couch and he followed her, retrieving his play bag from the closet and leading the way up the stairs.

  The upstairs had three bedrooms. Or really, his bedroom, his play room, and the spare room. He led Poppy into his bedroom and directed her to stash her stuff there before leading her to the other end of the hall, where he unlocked the door with a key he kept in the bedroom.

  “What’s in here?” She followed him into the room.

  Damien didn’t answer her. He let the room speak for itself.

  The room was the same gray-green as the rest of the house, but that was where the similarity ended. He had a wooden St. Andrew’s cross in the corner, a leather ottoman that served many purposes, and a wooden frame that spanned the room, providing innumerable points to bind someone to, or even suspend a person from. The closet doors stood open, displaying the rest of his toys.

  He rolled the suitcase over and placed it on a small bench against the back wall in the closet, kept there for just that purpose.

  “Oh, my,” Poppy said.

  “Strip.”

  “What?”

  “I said strip.” Damien turned to face her, arms crossed over his chest.

  Poppy blinked at him for a moment before a smile spread across her face. The cheeky little thing. She unwound the scarf from her neck and folded it.

  Damien closed the distance between them and pressed his thumb over a dark purple spot on her chest. She winced and leaned against him.

  “They’ve colored nicely,” he said.

  “Yes, I’ve had to get creative with my work clothes this week.” She grinned, not the least bit concerned.

  “Were they too high?”

  “There weren’t enough of them.”

  Poppy pulled her tank top off and glanced down at herself. There were a few red lines across her stomach, and purple hearts that stood out plainly on her fair skin, but the best ones were on her breasts.

  “Isn’t this pretty?” He drew his finger along the scalloped edge of her bra. The red satin demi-cups were covered with black lace. He could make out the curve of her areolae through the sheer fabric.

  She removed her jeans and folded them as well, leaving her in the bra and matching barely-there panties. He took her arm and turned her, admiring the handful of marks he’d left.

  “What is this from?” He slapped the front of her thighs and she danced in place.

  “Ouch. The bed. The foot rail bruised me.” The smile never left her lips.

  “Huh. Interesting.” He popped the thin strap over her hip. “I don’t think you want these ruined, so you’d better take them off, too, though I do love the red and black against your pale skin.”

  Love.

  He wanted to shove the word back in his mouth. It came too close to the truth. How was it a woman so small and gentle could control his heart?

  Poppy slid the panties off and removed her bra, adding both to the pile of clothing by the door. Her cheeks were flushed. For a woman who could be so bold, she balanced it out with a good measure of modesty. It made for an interesting contrast.

  His gaze slid over her body, noting his marks and the evidence of their time together. It did something inside of him. He wanted to lock her away, so he’d never be without her, so no one could steal her.

  He wanted her to be his Rapunzel.

  Damien stripped his shirt off and tossed it in the corner. His hands itched to touch her. He needed to feel her against him, taste her surrender.

  They stood face-to-face. He kneaded her shoulders with his fingers, taking joy in simply touching her.

  “Anything you want to tell me before we start?” he asked. They hadn’t changed their initial negotiations except to clarify one thing or another.

  “No, sir. I trust you.”

  “What did I tell you I’d do earlier?”

  “That you would own my mouth, my breasts, and my body.” Her gaze dropped to his chest and her voice grew husky.

  “Hmm.” Damien cupped her mound and pressed his fingers against her folds. “You’re wet just talking about it.”

  Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. “Yes, sir.”

  “Because you like to be fucked?”

  Her brow wrinkled. “It’s more than that. Do I enjoy sex? Yes.” She peered up at him. “But I’m wet because it’s you saying you want to fuck me.”

  Damien resisted the urge to grin at the profanity on her lips. He curled his fingers until he found the hard nub of her pleasure and pressed harder. Her lids lowered and she flattened her hands against his chest.

  “How many times do you think I can make you come?” he whispered.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What makes you come the hardest?”

  “Your cock.”

  He grinned. “Don’t give me platitudes. You won’t like the result.”

  “A rabbit vibrator.”

  “And that’s what I won’t be using, because you don’t get to come until I say so.” He turned to the closet and glanced around for the bag of toys he’d purchased when he’d laid out his single-minded plan to woo Poppy.

  The bag sat on the floor of the closet, innocuous in its plainness, but inside was a wealth of things reserved just for her. There were a few vibrators, but he had one in particular in mind.

  “Stand in the middle of the room,” he said.

  While Poppy placed herself in position, he retrieved the bag and sighed in relief when he realized he’d already thought to set it up. He laid the vibrator in his suitcase and pulled out a length of rope.

  Tonight he’d push her, he’d fuck her, and for a few minutes she would be his, body and soul.

  He tied a quick loop of rope around her hips and left the rest of the rope dangling down one leg. The vibrator was next. He pulled it out and pressed the play button on his MP3 player as he turned to face her.

  Poppy’s brows rose. By some odd twist of fate, the gently curved, spade-shaped vibrator also happened to be purple, her favorite color. As the music rose in the speakers, the vibrator began to dance.

  “Its intensity is controlled by the beat of the music,” he explained.

  Poppy gulped and her eyes grew a little wider.

  “Spread your legs.” He shook his head when her feet moved only a few inches. “If that’s how you’re going to be, we’ll just use this.”

  He grabbed an innocent-looking bar with rings on either end from the closet.

  “No, I just didn’t know how far you meant,” Poppy said in a rush.

  “You had your chance.” He held back a chuckle as he pulled out the restraints. The vibe went into his back pocket for the moment, its wiggling an odd sensation against his ass.

  Poppy pouted, or pretended to, at least, while he fastened cuffs to either ankle and attached them to the rings with snaps. Now her legs were forcibly spread a good three feet. He stood and pulled a nylon cord down to hang from the wooden structure.

  “You can hold on to this for balance. Don’t fall.”

  She clung to it while he took a knee in front of her and pulled the vibe out and placed it at her entrance. The music eased into a gentler beat. He bit his lip and pushed the wider end of the vibrator into her pussy.

  Poppy whimpered and held still, her eyes squeezing shut. He eased it in, pulling it out and pushing deeper.

  Damien bit her thigh and she hissed. If she wanted more marks, he’d give them to her. When the vibrator was fully seated in her pussy, he held it in place with one hand and brought the rope between her legs with the other. He looped it over the belt of rope and back through her legs so that the crisscrossed ropes held the vibrator exactly where it was supposed to be.

  The music picked up the pace and Poppy groaned. “Not nice. Not nice at all.”

  “Did I ever say I was nice?” He pushed himself to his feet and stared at her.


  “No.”

  “Okay, then.” He grabbed her braid, pulled her head back and kissed her, exulting in the power she gave him. She could pull the rug out from under him and shut their play down in a second, but she hadn’t yet. She just kept giving to him, taking everything he offered and asking for more. “You said you wanted marks. Let’s give you some.”

  “Shit,” Poppy muttered.

  He selected a thick, carbon-fiber cane from the wall. It was similar to the evil stick Poppy had provided, except this one didn’t sting as much. He swung it through the air. It whistled at a high pitch before cracking against his palm.

  Poppy jumped even though she could see the toy hadn’t been aimed at her.

  The music kicked up a notch and her eyes rolled back in her head. Her knees buckled, but her grasp on the strap was enough to keep her upright.

  He circled her, slapping the cane against his palm.

  When she couldn’t see him, he swung the cane and landed it across the middle of her ass. Poppy yelped and rocked forward. He didn’t pull the cane away very far before popping her again, then over and over again, up and down her ass. Her skin turned a bright cherry red and she leaned forward, sticking her bottom out more, even as she grunted and whined.

  He laid his palm against her heated flesh and she hissed again. The cane wouldn’t leave more than superficial marks, a few light bruises. He wouldn’t use it on her hard enough to do more than that—though he could.

  “Not too bad for a warm-up, hmm?”

  “Oh, fuck you,” she groused, standing up straight.

  “You like it.” He cupped her mound, pushing the vibe deeper, and at the perfect moment, the music kicked up a notch with a heavy bass beat.

  “Oh.” Poppy’s eyes went completely unfocused as the vibrator started a pulse-vibe-pulse-vibe rhythm.

  “Don’t come,” he whispered.

  “Oh, come on.” Her voice was barely audible.

  “You can’t come yet. Don’t do it.” He wiggled the vibrator back and forth. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting to obey him.

  She wouldn’t last long. He didn’t think she had as much control over when she orgasmed as some who were used to the role of submissive or slave. To ask more from her would push her ability. How much could she take?

  A few feet of rope hung from her hip. He picked up the ends and ran the fuzzy bits over her breasts. Poppy thrust her chest forward, eyes still closed. Her cheeks were a lovely shade of pink. He trailed the rope across each nipple, then used the rope to wrap around a breast, effectively noosing one, then the other. He pulled on the ends, lifting her breasts higher.

  Damien tweaked her nipple, enjoying the helpless noises she made as she tried to remain still. Toying with her would drive him mad, but he would keep at it.

  Poppy shuddered and bent her knees.

  “Did you come?” he asked.

  “No, sir, but I want to.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Oh come on, please? Please, sir?”

  “Not yet. Not unless you want to be in trouble.” He chuckled and kissed her lips.

  “You suck.”

  “I do, but only if you’re good.” He tweaked a nipple and received a hard-earned chuckle from her.

  “I can be good.”

  “I know you can, so don’t come.”

  She made a disgusted sigh. That was not the answer she seemed to have wanted.

  He cupped her mound again and used his fingers to press the vibrator deeper, then release it, over and over again, fucking her as it vibrated.

  Poppy’s whimpers rose in pitch and volume.

  “Don’t come,” he said yet again.

  “Then stop.” She swiveled her hips, trying to get away, but the bar kept her relatively immobile. Her face creased and she bit her lip.

  He wanted to yank the vibe out and fuck her until she screamed, but it was too soon. There was so much more to do before he found release in her body. He rested his cheek against hers and listened to her breathing. This close he could feel her heart pounding, the hitch of her breath, her accelerated breathing, and the little, helpless noises she tried to muffle. It was as if he felt each invasion of the vibrator himself, through her.

  She wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him closer.

  “Oh!” Her muscles rippled and her breathing shuddered. Her hips moved back and forth against his hand, grinding her pelvis against him.

  Damien kept up the pace, his other hand against her back, soaking up the energy.

  “You came, didn’t you?” he whispered.

  “Yes, stop already, yes. I couldn’t help it.” She pushed at his shoulder, but didn’t have the strength to move him.

  “What did I tell you?” Damien withdrew his hand, shaking his head and tsk-tsking.

  “Not to come.” She glared at him, but the effect was diminished by her wanton gaze. Every few seconds a tremor shook her body. No doubt the vibrator was still working on her.

  “Exactly, and you came, so now I have to punish you.”

  Damien grabbed the leather ottoman and pulled it across the floor until it was in front of Poppy.

  “Bend over and put your hands on that.” He kept a hand on her to steady her as she obeyed. “You have to count.”

  He rubbed his hand over her ass. The cane marks stood out against her pale skin, not too much, but enough that she would be reminded of him for a day or two as she sat. Her knees buckled as the song changed to something fast, with a driving beat.

  Damien pulled his belt from around his waist and snapped the leather in half. She jumped, but only slightly. He grinned and gently popped one cheek with the doubled-over leather.

  “One,” she said with force.

  He repeated the same soft blow to her other side.

  “Two.” Her body relaxed, lulled into a false sense of relief.

  Damien put some muscle behind his next swing.

  “Three! Four. Five. Six. Seven! Oh my God.” She rocked forward, her knuckles white against the leather.

  He dropped the belt and smoothed his hands over her heated skin, assuring himself she was okay. Poppy might be a small, delicate woman, but he was becoming acquainted with her strength, both of body and of character.

  The ropes stretched tight over her hips, keeping the vibrator in place better than he’d expected.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Damien drew back his hand and slapped her thighs, his thumb hitting the end of the vibrator with each blow.

  “Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.” She bounced on her toes and bent her knees, but he didn’t allow her to dissuade him from the task, which was administering sweet torture.

  “You like that?” He patted the end of the vibrator.

  “No. No. No!” She wailed and almost collapsed forward, but he caught her, holding her weight with one arm while he continued to torment her pussy.

  “Don’t come. You don’t want to know what your punishment will be if you come.”

  “I can’t help it. I’m going to.” Her voice broke, with a dry sob.

  “Don’t do it.” He knew she had to be close to her limit, but he didn’t give up. Instead he unknotted the hip harness and used his hand freely with the vibe, pulling it out and thrusting it back in.

  Fuck, this could be him. He ached to be inside of her. To feel her tight pussy hugging him as he fucked her, to hold her as she came apart and whispered his name. She shook in his hands, almost as if the toy had consumed her and now vibrated with her whole body. He breathed in time with her, his awareness sharpened by the shared energy between them. He felt every hitch of her breath, even the pounding of her heart, as if it were his own.

  Poppy threw her head back and screamed. Her body undulated helplessly through another orgasm. He shut his eyes against the sight and focused on the way she felt in his hands, and how the connection between them sang. She sagged against him, no doubt spent. But he wasn’t done with her yet.

  Damien unfastened the spreader bar and helped her l
ay on her back on the ottoman. He pressed her thighs close together to keep the vibrator in place. She wasn’t off the hook yet. Her body shook with post-orgasmic tremors, or maybe she was still going. It wasn’t like he’d given her a moment to recuperate.

  It was time to make good on one promise.

  He released the tab on his pants and pushed both his underwear and slacks down. Poppy watched him from half-hooded eyes. The ropes on her breasts had slid off, but the swirl pattern remained pressed into her skin.

  “What did I tell you on the way over here?” he asked. His cock ached for her, but his hand would have to do. He stroked himself and her gaze tracked the path of his palm.

  “You said you’d fuck my breasts.” She palmed her chest, but he didn’t think it was a purposeful gesture.

  “And I’m going to. Do you know why I’m going to fuck your tits and not your pussy?”

  “Because I came when I wasn’t supposed to?”

  “Exactly.”

  He straddled her and she didn’t hesitate. She grasped his cock, stroking it. She propped herself up and took him in her mouth, working him in and out a few times before releasing him. She lay back down and he shook off the momentary haze of lust.

  “Push ’em together.”

  Poppy encased his cock in her breasts and he began to thrust, pumping through her grasp. The head of his cock hit her chin and she chuckled. On the next pass she kissed the crown. Her lower body undulated beneath him, while she smiled.

  He pinched the hard nubs of her nipples and she gasped, her spine bowing toward him. The tendons on the side of her neck stood out as she froze in a silent shout.

  Had she just come again?

  Fuck this.

  Damien stood and pulled the vibrator out of her pussy. She lay boneless on the ottoman, but they weren’t done yet. He retrieved a condom from his bag and rolled it on.

  He pulled her to her feet and lifted her, carrying her backward until he had her pinned between him and the wall. She wrapped her legs around him and he thrust up into her, sliding deep the first time. She moaned and dug her nails into his shoulders.

  Damien knew he was a big man. He had to have tight control when it came to his partners, but Poppy drove him. With her he had a one-track mind. He had to slow down or he might scare her with his desire. He flexed his hips and buried his face in her hair. Tendrils had come loose from her braid and he twined one around his finger.