Re/Bound

Home > Other > Re/Bound > Page 6
Re/Bound Page 6

by Michele Zurlo


  Darcy found his system to be fair. They would learn to read one another's signals. She would get to know what he would and would not tolerate, and he would get to know what worked on her and what didn't. While they could have had a frank discussion about expectations, preferences, and limits, Theo's method kept the romance of dating and getting to discover one another alive.

  “Yes, Sir. I do have a question.”

  His expression didn't alter in the least. “Ask.”

  “Can I earn rewards tonight, Sir?”

  Those lush lips stretched into a wide smile. Though he'd kissed her several times, he hadn't begun to sate her need to feel the strength and possessiveness of his lips moving over hers. He shook his head, but she knew he didn't mean it as a response to her question.

  “Yes, but not in the way you're thinking.”

  The hope spiking through her chest deflated when she realized he wouldn't deliver more than eight hard strokes with the flogger. She'd prefer fifty spread over her back, ass, thighs, and breasts. Remembered sensations had her pussy growing moist, and she fervently wished to be whipped there as well.

  He ran his thumb over her bottom lip again, smoothing away her disappointment. “Any rewards earned on this date will be delivered on our next date. Think of it as incentive to see me again.”

  “Theo, I would love to see you again, whether or not you're giving out a reward.” She bit her lip as she realized her lapse. “Sir.”

  The gentle smile turned to a frown as he caressed her lower lip again. “Darcy, stop biting your lip. As sexy and alluring as it is, the torture of any and every part of your body is my job. I don't take kindly to subs who inflict pain on themselves. No more digging your nails into your skin or pinching yourself, either. That stops now.”

  Shock had her drawing back. She took one unwitting step away from Theo. Before yesterday, she had never inflicted pain on herself. Pinching welts into her wrist had been a last-ditch effort to bolster her confidence, and she hadn't even been aware of her actions until she'd already raised three welts. It hadn't worked to help her, and it hadn't inflicted the right kind of pain.

  He followed her, closing the distance. “Do you have a problem with the instruction? It's not the only boundary I plan to push tonight.”

  Darcy stared into his deep brown eyes. She recognized sincerity, affection, and a firmness she craved. Silence stretched between them, and she knew he would wait an eternity for her answer. She realized he would never force her to hurry an important thought. The habit of biting her lips manifested when she was nervous or stressed, and it showed up quite brutally. She frequently ended up with bruised or bleeding lips. This habit didn't bring lasting comfort, and she guessed he knew that.

  Finally, and without biting her lip, she nodded. “No, Sir. I'm not in the habit of pinching myself. Last night was the first and only time that will ever happen. And I will try to stop biting my lip.”

  From the stony expression hardening the planes of his face, she knew her answer didn't quite satisfy him. “You'll do more than try. Every time I catch you biting your lip, I will subtract one stroke from tomorrow's flogging. I expect perfect behavior, Darcy.”

  Oh, but he was already proving to be an exacting Dom. Darcy wasn't used to this kind of rigidity, but it found a response deep within her heart. “Yes, Sir.”

  His smile finally returned. Pivoting, he turned to stand next to her. He tucked her arm under his and pressed her palm against his bicep. “When we walk together, you will hold on to me like this. I prefer to have your body closer to mine, but I won't force the issue tonight.”

  Her body had already drifted closer to his. She liked the feel of heat penetrating his shirt and pressing against her shoulder. Linked together like lovers, they strolled the length of two blocks. The pose elicited soft smiles from strangers, and Darcy relaxed into the romanticism of the position and Theo's authority.

  No thumping or ambient noise announced the dance club, but the neon lights blazing from the outside of the brick building made it hard to miss. Theo paused and placed his hand over hers. “No speaking to anyone without my permission.”

  Though familiar with this common directive, she wasn't used to having it imposed on her. She accepted it mostly because she hated speaking to strangers anyway. “Yes, Sir.”

  He rewarded her with a chaste peck on the cheek and opened the door. She released his arm long enough to precede him into the building, and then she slipped her arm back through his. It all seemed natural and right.

  The strains of Latin music drifted into the lobby. She glanced up at Theo, who acknowledged her surprise with another quick kiss. He didn't explain his choice of club, and she didn't share with him that she had no idea how to dance to salsa rhythms. Up until now, she'd only shaken her ass to techno beats and participated in line dances at a country music joint Scott had liked.

  He paid their cover and led her inside. Immediately she felt overdressed. Though warm for April, the spring air still harbored a bite, and she had dressed accordingly. Most of the patrons in the club wore shorts or short skirts. Even the men sported long cargo shorts that left half their legs bare.

  Nobody looked at them as Theo led her to a small space on the dance floor. Rhythm was a cornerstone to both flogging and fucking. This would familiarize her with all his rhythms.

  As he turned to face her, she let her hand slide around his arm until it came to rest once again on his bicep. The satisfaction lighting his brown eyes conveyed his approval. He lifted her other hand and put it on his other bicep.

  “When you're facing me like this, you're to keep your hands on my arms at all times. You can slide them up to my shoulders, but you may not rest them on top of my shoulders.”

  Darcy tested this weird boundary. Her natural inclination urged her to round the curve of his shoulder to rest her hands on the horizontal part, but she fought it.

  “You are allowed to slide your hands all the way down to the crook of my arms, but no further.”

  She explored this limit as well. Observing these boundaries was going to take some practice. Now she knew what he meant when he said he expected to correct her. His display of dominance and the incredible sexiness of his physical appearance combined to make her want to rub her body against his in erotic invitation. She wanted to explore every inch of him with her hands and tongue. The desire only grew because she knew he was going to make her wait a long, long time tonight.

  He let her get used to the way he would allow her to touch him for a moment. A new song started, and he put his hands on her hips. The gentle weight of his loose grip made her pussy clench. She lifted her gaze to his face, hoping he wouldn't mind if she looked at him.

  The kiss took her by surprise. She wanted it. The restraint he had displayed earlier had gone toward earning her trust, but it did nothing to sate her need for his kiss. He didn't bother with anything soft. His lips mashed against hers, claiming his due. Flames tingled straight to her breasts. She relaxed and barely remembered to not press her body against his.

  He broke the kiss and started dancing before she could quite gather her wits. With his hands on her hips, he guided her in the steps of the dance. She did her best to mirror him and keep her hands where he wanted them. The beat of the music became the beat of her heart as she gazed into the dark pools of his eyes.

  She had no idea how many songs came and went while her consciousness wrapped itself in Theo. When he leaned down to kiss her again, she moaned loudly and melted into his chest. He thrust a leg between hers and ground against her pulsing, wet pussy. The smooth, soft denim didn't provide much friction, but the steady pressure of his thigh made up for the lack.

  He slid one hand down to squeeze and knead her ass. The other tangled in the hair near the nape of her neck. He eased her head back and broke the kiss. Then he moved his lips to brand her neck and the small expanse of her chest where her shirt dipped in front. His grip on her hair brought tears to her eyes, and the juxtaposition of his soft kisses on her
flesh drove her to the edge.

  She gasped, so close to orgasm she could feel the first flutters along the inner walls of her pussy.

  “You're close, aren't you, Darcy?” His low, smooth voice permeated the layers of the spell he wove around her consciousness.

  Opening her eyes, she blinked as her surroundings came into focus. Strangers danced all around them. The beat of the music changed slightly with the new song, no longer matching the promise of climax between her legs. Urgency faded.

  “Not anymore, Sir. I won't come without your permission.”

  “I didn't prohibit you from climaxing.” He nipped her earlobe. Light sparks tingled through her body, but now that her awareness of the crowd had returned, she no longer felt an acute need.

  “I thought it was understood, Sir.”

  He drew back, easing his hold on her hair and her ass. “Have you ever climaxed in a crowd of people like this?”

  Darcy shook her head. “No, Sir. I don't think I can. Speaking in public is difficult. I can't imagine relaxing enough to have an orgasm.”

  He lifted a brow, and Darcy fought the urge to swear. Confessing limitations like this to a Dom never worked out well. They always took it as a challenge. Lucky for her, Scott had disliked exhibitionism on any level. Like her, he enjoyed watching, but he had never pushed her to perform.

  Instead of answering, he turned her body around so her back faced his chest. He moved so that he spooned her, and he pressed his erection against the curve of her ass. Need pulsed between her thighs, and she relaxed into him. Had he not been topping her, she would have ground against him.

  He pulled back her hair on one side and nibbled at her earlobe. “I won't push you that far tonight, sweetheart, but rest assured I will push you on this eventually.”

  Darcy shivered, both in fear and in anticipation. Already she trusted Theo to push her out of her comfort zone. He had proven he would be there to catch her.

  “More rules, Darcy. When I'm behind you, I want your hands on my wrists.”

  His hands rested on her hips. She gripped his wrists loosely, knowing not to inhibit his ability to move.

  “Good girl. Like before, you will keep your hands on my arms at all times. You may touch me from wrist to elbow. No lower, no higher.”

  She wanted to protest. If he insisted on grinding against her body and keeping her on the edge of an orgasm, then she wanted to hold his hands or lift her arms to wind her fingers in his hair. A whimper escaped, the only complaint she allowed. “Yes, Sir.”

  He slid his hands to rest over the crease where her legs met her pelvis. Heat from his fingertips emanated the few inches to her pussy. He grazed his teeth on the skin at the base of her neck. Shivers caroused down her spine and reverberated between her legs. She moaned loudly, and rational thought flew from her head. Automatically her arms lifted and she slid her fingers through the silky strands of his hair.

  The teeth and lips that had so deliciously worked the sensitive places on her neck vanished. His hands froze on her hips, and his hard cock moved away from her body. “Darcy, where are your hands supposed to be?”

  She lowered her arms and rested her palms on his forearms. “I'm sorry, Sir.” If he removed a promised lash for this, she would hate it, but she would understand. She had disobeyed a directive.

  His hands returned to her hips and pulled her against his heat. “Relax. This is practice. I'll let you know ahead of time when infractions start costing.”

  Immediately she melted into him. Though she didn't dread earning a punishment, she didn't relish it, either. As a submissive, she craved this kind of structure and the discipline that followed. As a masochist, she craved the kind of physical pain he would inflict. As a woman, she loved the way he took the time to get to know her personality and her needs. She loved the possessiveness of the way he held her, and she loved the way he focused on learning about her. She'd known him for only a day, yet he managed to make her feel feminine and cherished. When he looked at her, he invited her to reveal her naked soul, and she didn't feel vulnerable or threatened.

  She trembled with the enormity of feelings she'd never expected to experience again. Lust, she expected. This deep, intimate connection gave her a fragile hope. Perhaps she would find love and happiness again.

  Theo crossed his arms, enfolding her in his embrace. She kept her hands on his wrists because he hadn't altered his rules. That meant she hugged herself as well. He pressed a string of kisses along her temple and cheek. Wordlessly, he turned her to face him once again. Automatically she gripped his upper arms.

  He smiled, a tiny reward, but that was all she needed to fall deeper under his spell. The magic of his touch and the violent pounding of her pulse in her ears intensified the enchantment of the night. He lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers in a gentle, reverent caress.

  Darcy hadn't thought it possible to feel optimistic about another man, but she did. In the deepest, darkest recesses of her soul, she knew Scott would want her to find love and happiness again. Guilt floated away, and she took it as a sign Scott approved of her choice.

  “I release you.” The words, softly spoken, vibrated against her lips, and it took her a moment to process their meaning.

  Throwing her arms around his neck, she opened her mouth and devoured him with all the passion he'd kindled since the first time he kissed her. He pressed her closer with one hand on the center of her back and the other squeezing her ass in time to the percussive pounding of the music.

  Liquid heat rushed to all points. Her breasts and the lips of her pussy swelled in anticipation. She molded to him, making promises with her body she fully intended to keep.

  He broke the kiss suddenly. With strong hands, now on her hips, he pushed her body back. Cool air rushed between them. Darcy blinked and focused on his eyes. He might have released her, but the submissive in her wanted to be back under his spell. Her back and ass didn't bear evidence of his affection, and her pussy didn't ache from meeting his demands. Her body screamed for release, not to be released.

  She would have begged, but he closed his eyes, and she recognized his struggle to maintain control. The sounds of loud conversation and louder music penetrated the haze that only let her focus on Theo. The smells of a hundred sweaty people mashed together on a dance floor pulled her further from the dream.

  “You have to get up in the morning,” he said. “Let's get out of here.”

  He held her hand as they left the club. She wanted to hold his arm the way she had when they'd entered the club, but he didn't allow her to change their link. Neither of them said much as they returned to his car. He opened the door and helped her inside. She liked the way his attention made her feel pampered and special, and she couldn't wait until they were alone.

  Darcy liked the way he topped her so far. Earlier he had proven his mastery as a sadist when he delivered perfect blows with his belt. Though it wasn't a perfect instrument of punishment, he had managed to learn it quickly and use it effectively. She couldn't wait to find out what else he could do.

  The slow whir of the elevator gears ground against Malcolm's conscience. In twenty-four hours, he had managed to thoroughly engage his target. He had no doubt she would bend over backward to introduce him to Victor Snyder. Now that he was convinced she couldn't have had anything to do with Yataines's disappearance, he needed to move on to the next stage of the plan. Infiltrating the Snyder Corporation as an expert tech meant he would be in a position to gain Snyder's trust. Once he did that, he could gather sensitive information that would help them clamp down on the elusive criminal.

  Keith Rossetti, his handler and his best friend, would no doubt shout with silent joy that would be masked by his stoic exterior. If they hadn't been such good friends for so long, Malcolm wouldn't be able to tell the difference in any of Keith's reactions.

  Why, then, did the idea of asking Darcy to introduce him to Snyder make him feel like he had rocks in his stomach? Easy. Putting her in the middle of all o
f this meant she would be in danger. Every protective instinct he had screamed at him. He couldn't do it. He would find another way into Snyder's organization.

  This evening with Darcy had been the most perfect date he'd ever experienced. He'd never found the simple act of conversation to be so captivating. He liked the way her mouth closed around her fork when she ate. He liked the sparkle and flash that lit her blue eyes when excitement gripped her.

  He hadn't planned to top her. The night had been designed with romance in mind. Though that questionable man had appeared at the restaurant, Malcolm had salvaged the mystery of their evening. When he had asked her to let him dominate her, he hadn't been asking as part of his cover. He had been asking as Malcolm, a man thoroughly enchanted by the woman at his side.

  And she had accepted.

  Hearing her call him “Sir” was a damn sight better than listening to her use a name that wasn't his. Never before had he cared what name a woman used with him, especially an asset.

  The elevator chimed, and the door opened. Darcy smiled at him and slid her hand up his arm to grip his bicep. He loved the way her hand felt on his arm, and he loved the sweet heat of her body permeating his shirt. She seemed like an extension of him.

  She paused at the door to her room. Her engaging smile didn't waver. “Would you like to come inside?”

  Everything about her shy invitation called to the Dom in him. She lowered her gaze, submitting to him already. He wanted this. He wanted her, but he couldn't take what she offered.

  “Yes, but not tonight.”

  Her questioning gaze penetrated his eyes, searching for answers to questions she wouldn't ask. He would answer anyway.

  “I like you. A lot. I want more than one night with you. I want to do this right.” As the confession fell from his lips, he knew it was too late. Becoming emotionally entangled with an asset never worked out well.

  She drew back a little. The hand she rested on his arm slid down, but it didn't drop away. His breath caught and his heart stopped, and he fervently prayed for her to want the same thing. He wanted to touch her face or push her hair back, anything to have more contact.

 

‹ Prev