Knots

by Chanse Lowell

  “No. It sounds . . . Oh God, it makes me so wet and tingly, it’s hard to do anything but squirm in your lap.”

  “Squirm, sweetheart. I wanna see it.” He smirked. “You do it so well.”

  “Not funny, Sir.”

  “It sure as hell is. I’m smiling, aren’t I?” He pointed at his grin.

  She smacked his chest playfully. “You’re smiling because you think I’m a silly little girl.”

  “Nope.” He yanked her chin up. A kiss was what she needed. She listened better to his body. When his tongue moved in and took over, she curled into him and melted into his touch.

  It was breathtaking, the way she gave in and surrendered so beautifully.

  More. God, more of that.

  He broke the kiss. “Come home with me now and go through the kink list and contract so we can move forward.”

  She nodded, so he put her back in her seat, adjusted his own, then took off before she changed her mind. He drove like a demon in the night, ready to ravage the woman seated next to him.

  She was silent, but the atmosphere was relaxed.

  When he pulled up to his house, he turned the car off and took a deep breath. “Once we’re inside, we’re gonna go over the contract and your list right away. Then you can get comfortable in my bed while I hold you. I don’t want you to worry about anything else tonight other than sleeping with me in my bed. I’ll only make love to you if you ask me since you’ve already told me you wanted to get to know each other more before we get physical again.”

  His neck tightened, hoping she’d realize he would keep talking to her, hashing this stuff out even if they did start playing together. He wanted to know all of her, and that wouldn’t stop because he was up in her pussy.

  “Ask? Um, I could never do that,” she said, her eyes widening.

  “See? You belong in this lifestyle. You’re not supposed to ask. I dictate when and how sex happens, and you take it all because you’re concerned only with my pleasure. That’s my Jeanie—the little girl that makes me shiver at her touch like a man in desperate need.”

  She laughed. “I do that, Sir?”

  “All the damn time. Made it hard to dance with you,” he said. “Stay here. I’ll get you in a second.”

  She nodded and tucked her hands into her lap.

  He took his time exiting his side of the car and opening her door. “Perfect. You do this so well.”

  “Do what, Sir?”

  “Wait on me patiently, and sitting poised and ready so beautifully, my cock’s leaking for you. There’s no way you can do this wrong. I want you to know I’m constantly impressed by you.”

  She swallowed, gave a watery smile and reached for him.

  He picked her up and held her crushed to his chest as the emotions overwhelmed both of them. He held her tight and rocked her back and forth.

  “God, I fucking love you so much, and I’ll always be here for you,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse. She had him breathless again.

  “I know, and I trust you because I love you, too.” She kissed him. “We can do this all your way.” She blinked and nodded a little, confirming it visually.

  His heart felt like it was bared for all to see because she was opening up to him, and it meant everything. Finally, she was allowing them to navigate through this together. He would help her every step of the way.

  No more fumbling, and no more scaring her off.

  She was his. No more running.

  Chapter 10

  Each time Mark moved around her, this spark inside would jolt her awake. The delicate flesh between her legs would tingle and steal away her attention.

  It was like he was hooked to her very core.

  This was completely new, and it invaded her senses. But tonight, she’d allow it to coat her skin, permeate her pores and saturate her soul.

  One night—she could give in once more without worry and see where this went.

  The last time she did that, she about melted into nothing but a puddle of hormones—he was that good at commanding her body.

  He glanced over at her, a wicked glint in his eyes.

  “Pull out that list you just filled out. Let’s go over that first,” he said, kicking his shoes off, then he bent down and removed hers for her. He massaged her feet for a second, and like a whore being pounded into oblivion, she moaned with an obscenely loud, grating sound.

  “Your hands should be auctioned off—they could end third world hunger, they’re that skilled.”

  He chuckled and then ran his hands up her legs and landed them on her thighs. His fingers kneaded into her muscles. “Ah, yes, but if they were auctioned off, who would be touching you tonight and soothing those sore dancing muscles?”

  He crinkled the corners of his eyes, and they were filled with mischief. My word, he was gorgeous, and she was so drawn to him, she realized she was leaning toward him.

  How did he not think of her as a sleazy whore?

  “Stop it—too much thinking,” he said, pinching her thigh, and then he pointed at his bedroom. “I think you need to get comfortable before we get started. Go change into a tee shirt of mine. Panties are optional, but no bra. Then you get back in here, I’ll feed you dessert and we’ll discuss the list and contract. Only then will I take you into my bed. Questions?” He gave her the brow.

  She swallowed and her nerves resurfaced. “What shirt should I choose, Sir? Any preference?”

  “None at all. Whatever appeals to you for sleeping in. If I can remove it easily, I’ll be thrilled, but if not . . .” he grinned so wide, his jaw tightened “. . . I’ll find a way to get it off if you decide you want to play a little tonight.”

  She shifted in her spot, then floated in a daze back to his room. This was some other girl, not her, taking orders and reveling in them. The Jeanie she’d been the last few years was the one that handled everything and knew what to do. She was definitely out of her element, but it felt nice to have this change.

  She frowned as she entered his room, because it hit her—she was going to have to go through his dresser. He was showing her how much he trusted her and was letting her into his life.

  Why would he do this? Was it a small act of intimacy? It sure felt like it.

  Her entire body froze up. It felt invasive to rifle through his personal drawers. Why was he okay with this?

  Where were the boundaries and personal space?

  The only time she ever went in Pono’s drawers was to put away his folded, clean laundry, and that was always brief and mindless.

  Fear gripped her, seizing up her insides.

  But this was absurd.

  “C’mon, Jeanie—move!” she told herself, placing one unsteady foot in front of the other.

  Her fingers shook as she walked into his closet, and as she opened the first drawer, it jiggled around from her nerves.

  This was his underwear drawer.

  Shit!

  Slaaaam!

  She shut that door so fast she barely had time to register the way her pussy was trembling and moistening.

  Her eyes averted away from where they’d just been.

  She cringed, closed her eyes and opened the next one.

  When she opened her lids a small crack, she found workout clothes.

  Dammit—that was affecting her too. How apropos—the little things about him impacted her on a deep, inexplicable level.

  She pulled out an oversized workout shirt and held it up to her chest.

  Looked like it would fit and be comfortable, and for some reason the idea of wearing something he sweat in regularly appealed to her more than she wanted to admit.

  Her entire body heated.

  She glanced around to make sure she was still alone and then stripped down. It was ridiculous to be this jittery when they’d already been intimate before, but still . . .

  She was trying to maintain some semblance of control over herself.

  Most likely she’d fail tonight, but at least she’d give it her best effort s
o she wouldn’t feel worse about herself in the morning for being such an uncaring slut.

  And he’d left all the decisions up to her of how physical they’d get tonight.

  A big responsibility, and actually, now as she pulled his shirt on and it slipped over her skin, she contemplated how she really didn’t want this charge to be all on her.

  What if she made the wrong decision?

  She shook her head. Not a big deal if she chose to sleep more like best friends rather than lovers tonight.

  Then why did it feel like a freaking rhinoceros was stampeding through her heart, stomping it to bits, then parking its heavy ass there, creating this undeniable pressure that made her want to scream?

  She kept her head down and pushed her clothes off to the side of the closet with her bra hidden at the bottom of the pile. Her panties were still on and the shirt covered them, so she was modest enough to discuss the papers she’d brought with her without too much embarrassment.

  She leaned over and grabbed out of her jeans pocket the completed papers he’d given to her a little while ago that she’d folded up.

  Now he’d see what a closeted sex deviant she was. There were a few things on the list she didn’t want anything to do with, once she looked them all up on her laptop real quick and then was able to understand what they were. Most of them intrigued her and inflamed her skin, making it sensitive and tight to the touch.

  With the papers in hand, she walked out to the living room.

  Mark sat on the couch, looking scrumptious and perfectly disheveled as he drank a glass of wine. Dancing really agreed with him—messing up his hair and making his skin remain flushed for a little bit.

  He had a glass of wine ready for her as well, along with a bowl of ice cream.

  “You’re carrying those like they’re about to explode,” he observed.

  She smiled but remained quiet. Her shoulders were becoming permanently involved with her earlobes. That was a love affair she was going to have to break up.

  “Take a seat next to me, and let’s discuss what’s got you all tense,” he said, patting the cushion.

  “I’m fine, Sir. Just unsure of what to talk about, and worried I won’t know what types of questions to ask,” she admitted.

  She glided over to his side and sat down with uncharacteristic fluidity. There was something about him that made her feel like she was floating along in a fog.

  “Anything that comes to mind I want you to share so we can be thorough, all right?”

  She nodded. “I can do that.”

  “I know you can.” He cupped her chin and rubbed below her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Okay, I’m going to give you my list. You review mine, while I look at yours, and then we’ll talk. Feel free to eat your dessert while you’re at it.”

  She nodded once more, and with jerking, spastic hands, traded papers with him, then grabbed the bowl.

  Ice cream sounded perfect, just like him and his amazing body all stretched out and comfortable on the couch next to her.

  “Please don’t judge for this,” she squeaked as she watched him begin reading her document.

  “Jeanie,” he gave her name with that warning tone and swatted her thigh. He followed it up with a growl, then immediately turned his attention back to the paper before him.

  She went back to his list while she demolished her ice cream in less than five minutes. Her hands set the bowl down on the coffee table, but she never let go of that paper in her hand with his list of likes and dislikes in regard to kink. What had she gotten herself into?

  Would he really not judge her?

  She grabbed the wine, took a few gulps and then set it back down.

  Her insides tightened as she mentally beat the shit out of herself for saying something so pathetic about her fear of what he might think of her after seeing her desires laid out on paper and for upsetting him about it. She exhaled and let her shoulders drop. It was time she learn to start letting this stuff go. That’s what he’d expect and want her to do, and ultimately, there was no reason to get hung up over the little stuff. If she did, she’d never survive this night.

  Her eyes roamed over the page again. She tried to be thorough and take it all in.

  Excitement hit her repeatedly in a very palpable way, and she kept choking on her breath. She pulled at the collar of his shirt she was wearing, even though it was nowhere near her neck. Was she suffocating from desire? Sure as hell felt like it.

  This man was more intoxicating than she ever imagined.

  He was heavy into bondage, flogging, really liked wax play, and had a freaking neon wand. Oh God, her stomach flipped.

  That was one of the toys she’d looked up online because she was trying to figure out what exactly a violet wand was, and the neon wand popped up. She’d watched this very brief advertisement video that had her damn near salivating. It looked like something she wanted to try immediately, and he had one.

  She gripped the edges of the paper so tight, the paper trembled.

  “Something bothering you? You can say now if you want,” he offered.

  “Bothering? No, Sir. More like anticipation crippling me. It’s like Christmas at Santa’s shop, and I have no idea how I wound up here.” She smoothed the paper out over her lap.

  “Something in particular fascinating to you?”

  “So much, but the wand . . . I’d love to experiment with it wiii-ith you . . . s-someday,” she stammered, her tongue heavy and uncooperative. She had to duck her head to swallow because her throat was constricting on her.

  “I bet you would—with your fiery personality hidden inside you, I bet you’d come unleashed,” he mused, his eyes burning coals as he penetrated right through her defenses.

  She squirmed in her seat.

  “Was there anything there that concerned you at all—frightened you or made you want to run screaming?” He settled back into his comfortable couch, crossing his left ankle atop his right knee. His gaze held an unmistakable look of patience and understanding.

  There wasn’t an ounce of judgment in those eyes.

  “Tell me,” he insisted.

  “Well, nothing that really stood out to me. I think I’m good with most of it, but for some reason . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, I don’t know why, but blindfolds I’m fine with, although masks and hoods kind of scare me. I think that would probably go on my hard limit list,” she confessed.

  “Yeah, I noted you put those in that category. That’s fine. I can do without those. Anything else you want to discuss?”

  “The wax and fire play—they intrigue me, but how safe is that? It sounds kind of dangerous, Sir.” Her lips pursed, and she sucked in small morsels of air. It was hard to breathe due to him staring with that hungry look now focused on her.

  “They’re safe when a Dom’s been trained and knows what he’s doing. I have experience with both, and when I have a sub that enjoys them, I’m happy to pull out my bag of tricks.” He smiled.

  It eased the tension in her shoulders, and she relaxed into the cushions behind her like he did.

  “Anything else?” he asked, reaching out and running his fingertips over her knee.

  “I don’t know. What do you think I should know, Sir? I’m so inexperienced . . .” She fought the urge to say something self-deprecating.

  “The most important aspect of all of this is you have complete trust in me, and that you know I’ll stop immediately when you safeword. We’ll change what we’re doing by fixing whatever’s bothering you, or if it’s not for you at all, we’ll ditch it altogether and discuss if it needs to be a hard limit or possibly a soft limit to be revisited later. I have to know you’ll safeword if you need to as well. This is going to require tons of open communication, so your statement earlier about me not judging—you realize why that’s not a factor? I’d never hold anything against you when you’re being so vulnerable by sharing your fantasies with me. If I judged you, there’d be no room for trust. I’d b
e sabotaging myself—and besides—I rather doubt you can come up with something that would shock me. I’ve been in the lifestyle for close to a decade.”

  Damn. Almost a decade? They were both twenty-seven. That would mean he started doing this when he was possibly eighteen or nineteen? Holy shit. He knew at that young age he was a Dom at heart?

  “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind, Sir.”

  “Ready to look at the contract?”

  “Yeah,” she answered, the beginnings of a smile forming, then she handed him back his own kink list.

  “I tweaked it quite a bit so the time frame is left open. It says a month or until one of us wants to back out. Were you okay with that wording?”

  “It was good, Sir. I had no problem with that.”

  “Was any of it alarming to you, or did anything bring up red flags?”

  “No, not really. I signed it.” She jerked her head toward the paper. “I did add an addendum at the bottom. I hope that’s okay?”

  “Let me see,” he said, and she handed it to him.

  He read through it and smiled when he got to the end. “Not a problem.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m actually not that hard to please when it comes to you, sweetie. I love that you thought of these few fine points to make it your own and to assert your independence in your own way. That’s exactly what I want you to do.” He tugged her into his lap. “God, I love how brave you’re being about this. I know it’s intimidating, but you’re so strong and resilient—it’s obvious in the way you filled these out you thought everything through completely.”

  “I want to cook for you down the road, but after what happened with Pono, I realized I had to change my mind. I can’t trust myself to feed you, so no cooking. Soft limit for now, but we’ll act like it’s a hard limit until we think I’m ready to do that again,” she said, bowing her head.

  He tipped it right back up. “I understand, and I agree one hundred percent.”

  “What about the waxing of my vagina?”

  He chuckled, and it was dark and erotic-sounding, making the organ she was talking about swell and throb.

  “I leave that up to you. I actually don’t have much of a preference as long as you keep it neat and trim so I can eat you anytime I want without anything getting in my way.”