Simone grinned before remembering she’d be long gone out of Jason’s life by the time any kinky shipments started arriving.
“I have some of this stuff at home,” she said. “Wish I’d packed my toy bag. I have floggers in it, a spreader bar, cuffs and stuff.”
“If you’re the submissive, why do you have floggers?”
“I like having my own set of gear,” she said. “That way it’s there if I have a kinky friend come over, and we decide to play.”
“Play? That what you all call it?” He sounded doubtful.
“It’s fun, you know? Play time. Mr. King even calls his dungeon his ‘playroom.’”
“You feel like you’re playing with me?” he asked. Simone shut off the video and shifted on his lap to face him.
“Yes and no,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, yes, because it’s fun, like I said. No because it’s…I don’t know. More than that,” she said. “What about you? Do you feel like we’re playing?”
“Sometimes,” he said. “Sometimes it feels, I don’t know, kind of real.”
“When does it feel real?” she asked.
“When you’re being my little slave,” he said. “When you’re on your knees or I’m spanking you and you’re squealing on my lap. And when I’m inside you…it doesn’t seem like it’s play then. It seems like you’re really into it. And I know I am. But maybe you’re a real good actress?”
“I’m not acting, Jason. While I’m here with you until I leave, I’m yours. For real. When you give me an order, I obey it. I want to obey it.”
He touched her forehead with his fingertips, ran his fingers through her hair. Simone shivered at the tender touch. The look in his eyes was inscrutable. She would have given anything to know what he was thinking.
“Does that scare you?” she asked.
“A little,” he said and it meant more than she could say that he was willing to admit that. “Scares me how good it feels, too. What if I can’t go back to being with a girl who isn’t like you?”
“Why would you want to?” she asked, giving him a little smile.
“Well, considering you don’t live here, and I don’t plan on spending the rest of my life sleeping alone…”
“Fair,” she conceded. “Still, a lot of women are very open-minded if you give them a chance.”
“I can’t imagine telling anyone the things I’ve told you about me.”
“I know it takes a lot of trust.”
“You’ve spoiled me,” Jason said. “You already know everything and I know nothing. If I met a girl and she was as ignorant about this stuff as I was, I don’t think we’d get very far.”
“You’d figure it out,” Simone said. “All couples have to, kinky or vanilla.”
“Maybe I oughta just tie you to my bed and not let you ever leave.”
“I’ve heard worse ideas.”
Simone and Jason met eyes. She wanted to believe he wasn’t joking. She wanted to believe he wanted her to stay. Not that she could, of course. Or could she?
No point even answering that question until he asked it.
“You want to see some more of my pictures?” she asked.
“More than I want to breathe and eat and sleep,” he said.
Simone giggled happily as she turned back to his computer and pulled up more of her photographs. Jason rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist as she showed him pictures she’d taken of her kinky friends, pictures of her posing in various submissive positions, and a few normal vanilla, i.e. clothed, pictures of her out and about in the Big Apple.
“You have a nice life in New York,” he said after she showed him a photo of her and her friend Tessa—another submissive at their club—dressed up to see Hamilton. A client of Tessa’s had given her tickets.
“It has perks,” Simone said. “And its downsides. Like anywhere you live.”
“Never heard a New Yorker yet tell me what they don’t like about the town. It’s nothing but the greatest city in the world, best place to live, nothing like it… What don’t you like about it?”
“Oh, the usual,” she said, shifting to face him. “It’s kind of loud at night. Rents are high. You’re not there.”
He raised his eyebrow at her. “And that’s a downside?” he asked.
“I’ll definitely miss you when I go back,” she said.
“You gonna post pictures of me on your secret page?” he asked. “Something to remember me by?”
“No,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You have kids who write you fan letters, remember? This is all top secret.”
Jason stared at her a few seconds before leaning forward and pulling up the picture of her kneeling in front of the fireplace again, the one that showed off the bruises on her back.
“Who took that picture?” Jason asked.
“Self-portrait. I was experimenting with lighting,” she said. The photo had turned out well. She looked like a real fetish model in it.
“I was looking more at the curves than the lighting.”
“Not the bruises?”
“I’m trying to pretend I left those on you and not some other man.”
“You could leave bruises on me,” she said. “I’d like that.”
“And I like the thought of you taking pictures of the marks I leave on you,” he said. “Like that.” He pointed at the screen.
“They fade so fast, if you want to preserve them, photography is the best way to do it.”
“Will you take some pictures of yourself?” he asked. “Private ones just for me?”
“Are you ordering me to?” she asked, grinning.
“I suppose I am.”
“I will definitely obey that order, sir.”
“I suppose I better put some marks on you first.”
“I suppose you better, Master Jason,” she said.
She loved the way Jason was looking at her right now, like a lost man looks when he stumbles out of the forest after days of wandering and sees the road that’ll lead him home. She wanted to be that path for him. But she wanted to be there when he got home, too. Too much to ask? Maybe. But maybe not.
Jason wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to him—gently—and then kissed her—not gently. The kiss was so not gentle that Simone nearly slid off Jason’s lap. He caught her at the last second, and they both laughed.
“Whew,” she said. “You know it’s a good kiss when you almost fall out of your chair.”
“I got you, Spanky,” he said, pulling her closer and tighter to him.
Oh, yeah, he definitely had her. He kissed her again, a long kiss that neither one of them seemed willing to end. Minutes passed and they kept kissing. In the back of her mind, Simone vaguely wondered when was the last time she simply sat in a man’s lap and made out with him. She couldn’t remember. If Jason kept kissing her like that she wouldn’t remember her own name by the time he was through with her. He pulled her hair off her neck and pressed his lips against her throat. She moaned at the tug of his teeth on the thin, tender skin, moaned again as his tongue lapped at the little wound he’d made by biting her there.
“There,” he said into her ear. “That’s gonna leave a bruise.”
“I’ll be sure to take a picture of it for you, sir,” she said. “And maybe one for me, too. Tomorrow, after they turn into nice bruises.”
“Tomorrow? What should we do tonight then?”
Simone glanced around the room, looking for inspiration. She found it sitting right in front of her on Jason’s desk. His laptop still had her flogging video pulled up.
“Do you want to make a video, sir?”
That raised his eyebrow.
“That a yes?” she asked.
Jason set her on her feet and stood up. Then he took her by the wrist and pulled her out of the office and up the stairs.
It was a “yes.”
Fourteen
Jason took Simone into the gue
st room again, sat her on the edge of the bed and stood in front of her, his hands on her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks.
“You sure about this?” she asked. He didn’t blame her for asking that, as unsure as he was most of the time.
“If it’s too much, we’ll turn the camera off,” he said. “What do you need?”
“My camera equipment’s in your room in the black bag. I’ll need to set up the camera on the tripod. After that…it’s up to you, sir.”
“I want you in your corset,” he said.
“I better get it then,” she said. “I’ll need you to lace me in good and tight, sir, if you will.”
“Oh, I will.” He loved the way she was looking at him. She looked so sweet and trusting, a little lamb to the slaughter. “And I’ll fuck your pussy, too. And anything else I want to fuck.”
Her lips parted and she breathed a heavy breath.
“My body belongs to you,” she said. “Every inch.”
It could have been a line, Simone acting the part. But he didn’t think so, not with the way her breath caught in her throat. He touched the bright red bite mark he’d left on her neck then dropped his head to kiss it again. He cupped her breast in his hand while he kissed her and felt her nipple harden against his palm through her t-shirt.
He was hard, too, had been since the second he’d sunk his teeth into her skin downstairs and heard her moan in his ear. What was he going to do with himself after she was gone, and he came home to an empty house? It hurt too much to imagine. He forced the thought from his mind.
“Go get your things,” he said. “And make it quick. Don’t make me wait for you.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, breathlessly. He swatted her ass when she moved past him.
“Spanky?”
“Yes, sir?” She turned around in the doorway when he called for her.
“Bring me my crop from the bedroom, too.”
She grinned ear to ear. “Yes, sir.”
After she left, Jason stared at the bed and wondered what on earth was possessing him to do this. Make a video of himself having sex with Simone? What was he going to do with it? Watch it, of course. Watch it every day and every night after she’d gone. If he couldn’t have her, this would be the next best thing.
She returned quickly, bag in one hand, corset in the other, crop between her teeth. He laughed at the sight of her, so obedient to his “make it quick” command that she’d found a way to bring everything into the room in one trip.
Pretty damn adorable if you asked him.
Simone dropped her corset onto the bed, set the camera bag on the floor and with a curtsey presented him his crop.
“Nice,” he said. She smiled as she went to work. He liked watching a competent woman at her work. As easy as one, two, three, she’d unzipped her bag, set up her tripod, set up her camera, and had it aimed and ready to go.
“All set?” he asked.
“Just have to turn it on. Whenever you’re ready, sir.”
He looked at the corset she’d laid on the bed—pale pink with black laces. Soon she’d be wearing that and nothing else, and he’d be pulling the laces tight, tighter, tightest…And it was all going to be on camera for him to look at and enjoy anytime he wanted.
“I’m ready,” he said.
Simone hit a few buttons on the camera and then stood up, facing him, waiting.
He picked up her corset and waited. She got the hint. Stepping in front of the camera by the bed, Simone began to undress. She didn’t do it slowly. She didn’t do it quickly. But she did undress gracefully, putting on a good show for the camera and for him.
When she was completely naked he went to her, corset in hand. She sat on the bed and raised her arms over her head. He slipped the corset down her arms. He let her adjust things here and there a moment before she stood up with her back to him.
Time to tighten the laces. He willed his hands not to shake for the camera when he reached out and stroked her back. The corset was satiny and warm from the heat of her skin. It had stiff ribs in it—stays he thought they were called—and a black lace trim around the top and bottom edges. The best part was…the corset would only cover her from hip to right under her breasts. He wanted nothing between him and her beautiful nipples.
He turned her sideways so that the camera could catch him tightening her laces. Why he found the idea so erotic, he didn’t know. Maybe because it was a way for him to take power over her body. Maybe because it was like tying her up. Maybe because he had a fetish for all things pink and lacy and frilly on a beautiful curvy woman. Whatever the reason, Jason didn’t want to rush a thing. He started right below her shoulder blades and slipped one finger under the laces, pulling them out six inches from her skin. The two halves of the corset slid closer together. Simone raised her arms again and rested them crossed over her head. He pulled tighter and the two halves of the corset met. And when they did he leaned forward and kissed her naked shoulder. The kiss became a bite when he drew a nip of her skin between his teeth and sucked on it. Simone gasped and he nearly stopped at once before remembering that, not only was he allowed to bite her and mark her and make her gasp, she wanted him to do it. She’d asked him to do it. And for this girl, he’d do anything. Apart from the corset, Simone was naked. No panties between him and her beautiful backside and her pussy, which he was dying to stroke. He made himself wait because that meant Simone had to wait, too.
Jason was pleased to see he’d left a good-sized mark on her shoulder. A pretty red welt. He touched it, kissed it, licked it.
“Does it hurt?” he asked her.
“It throbs a little, sir,” she said.
“Red, wet, and throbbing,” he said into her ear. “That’s how I want your pussy.”
“Keep doing what you’re doing, sir, and you’ll get it.”
Jason had every intention of doing just that. He dug his hands under the next rung of laces and yanked, hard. Simone gasped again, and he mockingly laughed in her ear. He couldn’t recall a time when he’d felt this good with a woman. In control. Respected. Wanted. He never wanted it to end.
Dangerous thought, right? God knew he adored the hell out of this girl already. Too fast. Too soon. He should be scared to death. But he wasn’t. For the first time in a long time, and even with a camera on him, he was doing exactly what he wanted to be doing. No guilt. No shame. And nobody’s goddamn business but his and Simone’s.
He yanked the next rung of laces. It was all for show. He wasn’t pulling them very tight. Last thing he wanted was Simone to pass out on him before he could have his way with her. But he sure was having a ball acting like he was going to lace her up tight enough to squeeze the air out of her lungs. He could tell from her hard breathing that her lungs were working just fine.
As he laced his way down to her waist, he let himself pull in a little tighter and soon Simone’s hourglass figure was dramatically showcased in pink satin and black lace. He tied a bow at the end and placed his hands on her narrow waist, relishing how it flared out to her round hips and up to her full breasts. He slid his hands to the front of the corset, placing them flat against her stomach, and pulled her back against him. Her head fell back against his chest, and she made a soft sound of arousal and surrender.
“Mine,” he whispered. A smile danced across her face. He slid his hands up to her bare breasts, holding them firmly, possessively. “Mine,” he said again.
He moved low, cupping his hand between her thighs. She was hot, and when he pushed his middle finger through her slit, he found she was wet, too. His cock ached to get into that wet hole, but he didn’t want to rush it. He’d just gotten started playing with her body.
Jason didn’t tell her to lie on her back on the bed. He put her on her back on the bed. She went without protest, putty in his hands. When he had her where he wanted her, he yanked off his shirt, stripped out of his jeans and boxer briefs and, completely forgetting the camera was on him, straddled Simone across her waist. He took her wrists in his han
ds and pinned them over her head while he pressed his mouth to her mouth, his tongue against her tongue and his cock against her corset.
Simone returned the kiss with equal intensity. She opened her mouth for him, rubbed her tongue against his, arched underneath him to press more of her body against his. She might have been a submissive, and she was definitely his little slave, but she wasn’t passive, and she certainly wasn’t meek. Jason kissed her neck, her chest and then her breasts. He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked deeply, relishing the moan that Simone released. He held her breast in his hand and sucked the nipple even harder. Carefully he pressed his teeth against the tender pink areola and sucked again, leaving another deliberate love bite that she could take a picture of tomorrow when it had turned into a purple bruise. Simone flinched when he dug his teeth in and he had to remind himself again that a flinch of pain didn’t mean he needed to stop. It seemed too good to be true almost, that he’d stumbled across a woman who loved being treated like his personal sexual property. He’d been so resigned to keeping his fantasies as fantasies. He felt like a kid who asked for a bicycle for Christmas when he really wanted a Porsche, never requesting his real desire because he knew for a fact it was a waste of a wish. But here she was…underneath him, warm, beautiful, wet and waiting for his cock and loving every wicked thing he did to her as much as he loved doing it.
“You are too good to be true,” he whispered against her skin.
“That’s funny, sir,” she said.
“And why’s that?” he asked.
“I keep thinking the same thing about you.”
He smiled up at her and knew he was just about as happy as he’d ever been or would ever be. That feeling only grew as he left bite marks all over Simone’s body. One on her shoulder. One on her chest. One on her thigh. One on her hip. She writhed and giggled as he licked and sucked and nibbled all over her. As he sucked on her nipples again, Simone lifted her hips up against his cock.
“You want to be fucked, don’t you?” he asked.
“Need’s the word,” she said. “Sir.”
Picture Perfect Cowboy: An Original Sinners Novel Page 12
