by Eden Bradley
“I knew you’d love it, baby. Now do the other one.”
She obeyed. The clamps in place and tightened, her nipples burned with pain, and a sharp, stabbing pleasure she’d never felt before. Her entire body felt hot and shaky. And her nipples were absolutely screaming with sensation.
“Okay, baby?”
“Yes…yes, I think so.”
“Just breathe into the pain. Long, deep breaths.”
She pulled in a lungful of air, then another. It helped to steady her.
“Now I want you to use the vibrator again. I want you to cover the tip of it in lube. And I want you to rub some lube over your pussy.”
With shaking hands she managed to coat the pink phallus in lube, then she smoothed some over her fingers. She touched her sex with her lubed fingers, rubbed over her whole mound. It felt incredible. She could hardly wait to use the vibrator.
“Now, Cam?”
“Now.”
She turned the vibe on, let it hover over her waiting sex for a moment, teasing herself. Then she touched it to her swollen lips, lightly. The buzzing rocked through her body, making her more aware of the clamps on her tits. They ached with heat and pain. She wanted more.
“Move the vibrator over your pussy, baby,” Cam told her. “Tease yourself a little for me. Run it over your pussy lips, your clit. But don’t let yourself come yet.”
She followed Cam’s directions, watching herself in the mirror as she slid the vibrator over her outer lips, spread them apart to tease her inner lips, then back up to touch the hard and swollen nub peeking out. She thought she’d die of pleasure. It was almost too much. Her burning nipples, the vibe between her thighs, and the sight of her sex spread wide open, almost dripping with her own damp heat. She wanted to watch as she slipped the vibrator inside herself, into that small pink opening.
“Now sit back in the chair and spread your legs wide. And push the vibe inside.”
Yes!
She leaned into the back of the chair, lifted one leg and rested her foot on the edge of the vanity, opening herself up wider. And then she watched in the mirror as she slid the vibrator into her wet hole, one slow inch at a time.
She’d never felt anything like it before. Her body was quivering from deep inside. And she loved seeing the vibrator buried inside her. Again, she trembled on the edge of orgasm.
“I don’t think I can wait, Cam!” she gasped.
“Then come for me, honey.”
“Yes!”
She angled the vibrator so that it hit her g-spot. And her orgasm swept over her in a swift tide of pleasure, while her nipples screamed in pain, making it even better. She used her free hand to rub her clit hard, heightening the orgasmic waves thundering through her. She moved the vibrator in and out, thrusting deep into her sex while it convulsed around the rigid shaft.
She came and came; it seemed to go on forever, the vibrator and her hand driving her climax on mercilessly. And when it was over, she slipped the vibrator out and collapsed in the chair, breathing hard.
“Good girl.”
Even now those words, his deep, sexy voice, caused a shiver of pleasure to run down her spine.
“That was good, wasn’t it, baby?”
“Oh, God, yes!”
“And it’ll be even better in a few days when I get home. Now take the clamps off. Be careful and do it slowly. You’ll get a rush of pain as you take them off. Give yourself a minute to catch your breath after the first one. Your nipples will be sore for a while. Then get into bed and sleep.”
“I love you, Cam.”
“I love you, too, honey. You know I do. Now go to sleep. And dream about me, Jillian. Dream about all the things I’m going to do to you when I get home.”
They hung up.
Removing the clamps hurt worse than putting them on had, making her suck in a sharp breath, but still she reveled in the pain. It was all too good.
She went to bed and slept, dreaming about what Cam would do to her with their new toys, about the pleasure he would bring her. About the oddly lovely pain. Just as she had been instructed.
Cam’s return home was delayed an extra day. Jillian missed him, but more than that, it gave her too much time to think. While he’d kept her in a state of intense arousal, she’d been able to turn her brain off. But now she was home from work, with nothing to do. She sat in the living room with a glass of white wine in her hand, staring through the tall windows into the night.
Cam had designed this house himself, and Jillian had always loved it. It was more glass than it was solid walls, letting the outside in. There were fireplaces everywhere: The living-room hearth was two-sided, with the other side opening into the dining room; there was one in the master bedroom, another small one in the master bath.
The house was sleek modernity at its best, with hardwood floors that warmed up the bold architectural lines. They had decorated together, choosing simple, contemporary furnishings and neutral tones with splashes of bold colors here and there, giving the place a Zen feel.
It had always felt peaceful to her, serene. But tonight it just felt lonely. Too big. And all that glass made her feel that the world could too easily intrude.
She leaned into the dozens of Moroccan-inspired throw pillows on the long, L-shaped, tan suede sofa and pulled a handwoven blanket over her. The skylight overhead showed the faint twinkle of stars through the thin sheen of fog in the sky. Seattle was almost always fogged in, often making her wonder why Cam had bothered to build the skylights here, as well as in the dining room and their bedroom. But it was part of his idea of letting everything in, of building with as few boundaries between the inside and the outside as possible.
Boundaries. She was having some trouble with that tonight. Now that she had a span of time when she wasn’t being stimulated, when her sex drive wasn’t in control, she had some time to think things through. For a while it had been fine just to go along with what was happening. After all, she and Cam were much closer than they’d been in a very long time, and that was good. But she had to stop, finally, and question what they were doing.
The whole power play thing was pretty intense. Potent. And all-consuming while it was happening. It shut out the outside world just as effectively as Cam’s glass house let it in. But was that really for the best? She had certainly needed a break from all her thinking, from the guilt that ate away at her insides day in and day out. From her whole head trip that had caused such a rift between her and her husband.
A shard of guilt stabbed through her. She knew it was all her fault. Cam didn’t deserve what he’d had to put up with this last year. She’d been so distant—physically, emotionally, sexually. Even when they’d had sex, she was always at a distance in her head, and she knew he could feel that she wasn’t really there with him.
The BDSM stuff had certainly changed that. And she was glad for Cam. Glad for herself. But was it really going to fix them? Was it really going to fix her? She wasn’t even sure she was fixable.
She was learning to trust her body again, the body that had betrayed her so deeply when it had let go of their baby. God, it was all a tangle in her mind. Her body, her grief.
Her culpability.
Tears stung at the back of her eyes and she took a big sip of her wine to ease the constriction in her throat.
No, too much to think about now.
But when was she going to think about it? Every time she started, she got to this point and had to stop. It was too much. Too much to think about and far too much to feel. That whole line of thought reeked of the horrendous self-pity she had sunk into right after she’d lost their baby.
Too much, too much. Stop.
She bit down on her lip, hard. She had to try to make this new beginning with Cam. They had to make this work. It was time to get her act together and begin to live again. For Cam. For herself.
She wasn’t as certain about how to move beyond her doubts and fears when it came to the whole dominant/submissive thing. She couldn’t push the
questions about whether or not this was normal out of her mind. She wasn’t ready to quit, necessarily. She just needed help getting her head around it.
She fell asleep on the sofa, her eyes on the stars glimmering through the skylight, her thoughts a tangled mess of old despair and new hope.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE ALVINA KRAMER SHOWING AT JILLIAN’S gallery had consumed every moment of her attention for weeks. Alvina was a new artist, but she was already internationally known. The only reason the Leighton Gallery had even been able to get her was because she lived in Seattle. Her fame had gone to her head, unfortunately, and “La Kramer,” as the gallery folk had taken to calling her, was behaving in classic prima donna manner. She’d been driving Jillian and her staff crazy for over a month already.
Finally the day arrived and Jillian was looking forward to having it over with. She spent the morning checking in with the caterers, having her staff make adjustments to the lighting. She wanted every detail to be perfect. Briana stuck by her side all afternoon, seeing that Jillian’s instructions were carried out by the staff. Finally, an hour before the opening, it was just the two of them in Jillian’s loft office. Jillian stood by her desk, running her gaze down the list on her clipboard.
“I think everything is ready to go. Why don’t you take a breather before you change, Jillie?”
“What? I’m fine. I want to get ready and do some last minute spot-checking.”
“Everything is done. I’ve already checked everything myself. Maybe you should have a glass of wine.”
Jillian looked up from the pile of notes on her desk. “Why? You know I never drink at these things.”
“You just seem a little more…tense than usual.”
Jillian sat back in her chair and exhaled a long breath. “Sorry, Bri. I’ve just had so much on my mind.”
“I know this artist has been a real pain in the ass—”
“No, it’s not that. I mean, that hasn’t been helping, believe me. I’m ready to throttle that woman. It’s just…me.”
Briana sat down in the chair across from her. “What do you mean? What’s up? I thought things were great with you and Cam.”
Jillian pushed her hair away from her face. “God, I don’t know, Bri. Everything was good, but suddenly I’m questioning it. I’m questioning everything. I mean, is what we’re doing really right?”
“Why not? You’re two consenting adults. Nobody’s getting hurt. I don’t see the problem.”
“It’s a lot more complicated than that.”
“Then why don’t you tell me?”
“I’m not sure I can.” She paused, trying to gather the thoughts that seemed to be whirling through her brain at a million miles an hour. “It’s like, life was good, you know? Everything was fine, and then I got pregnant.” She made herself stop there for a moment, not wanting to reveal the one secret she’d never admitted to anybody. She took a deep breath and tried again.
“Then I lost the baby. And at five months I was showing and everyone knew. When I came back to work, everyone wanted to know what had happened, but nobody came up to me and asked. They just stared at me. Like they expected me to fall apart at any moment. What they didn’t know was that I was falling apart all the time on the inside. I lived like that, in a constant state of falling apart.”
“I know, honey. I tried to buffer you here at work as much as I could.”
“I know you did. But the thing was, no matter what anyone else did, I still had to deal with what had happened. And it drove such a wedge between Cam and me. I couldn’t seem to stop it. And now things seem to be getting better, but I don’t know how real it all is.”
“If it seems to be getting better, than it just is, Jillie.”
“No, I don’t think so. I mean, maybe. But maybe it’s all on the surface.”
“Let me ask you something. You don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable, okay?”
Jillian nodded for Briana to continue.
“When you two are having sex, do you ever have one of those moments when you look into his eyes and feel totally and utterly connected?”
“Yes. It’s been happening a lot lately.”
“Well, I don’t think you can fake that. I don’t mean fake as in pretending. But that just does not happen unless it’s real.”
“I know you’re right. I think I know it. Maybe I just worry too much. And this last week has been out of control with Alvina always on my back. Maybe after tonight I’ll feel better.”
“I know I will. Lord, that woman is a nightmare!”
“She is.” Jillian had to smile. It was always so much better to suffer with a friend, and poor Briana had been putting up with “La Kramer’s” crap as much as she had.
Briana grinned and grabbed the clipboard out of Jillian’s hand. “Okay, chicks, let’s get this party started. You brought that hot little red dress with you, didn’t you?”
The lighting was flawless. The crowd was beautiful. The music was muted, filtering over the hushed conversation as people walked around looking at the enormous bronze sculptures set throughout the gallery.
“La Kramer” was dressed in a flowing golden robe, like ancient royalty, her long flaming red curls a sharp contrast against her pale and overly made-up face. She held court in one corner, alternately laughing and glowering at the crowd of admirers surrounding her.
It seemed to be going well. Only an hour into the show and the small red “Sold” stickers were already posted on almost half of the pieces. The artist would be pleased.
By the time Cam arrived she was able to relax a little, knowing the show was a success. He stood just inside the doors of the gallery, looking around. For her, probably. God, he looked good, she thought as she made her way across the crowded room toward him. In his black pants, black shirt, and black leather jacket, he was all dark, mysterious male beauty. Always a little bit of the bad boy about him, which she loved. Finally he spotted her, and his killer smile made her go warm all over.
She swung into his arms and kissed him. His lips were cool from being outside in the chilly evening air.
“Hi.”
“Hi, baby.”
She leaned in and whispered into his ear, “I’m sorry if I’ve been a little tense lately with this show coming up.”
“That’s okay. I’ll make you pay for it later.”
When she pulled her head back he had a perfectly wicked smile on his face, and she had no doubt he meant it. A small thrill went through her.
“Come on. Let’s get you a glass of champagne and come say hi to Briana.”
For the next couple of hours Jillian was kept busy playing hostess, flitting from group to group, occasionally checking on her artist. The evening was a huge success and even “La Kramer” couldn’t find anything to complain about.
Finally Gianni, one of her assistants, sidled up next to Jillian and whispered, “The last piece just sold. It’s all socializing for the rest of the night.”
“Thanks, Gianni. That’s wonderful.”
Jillian grabbed her first glass of champagne from a passing waiter. She could relax now. Her staff was good; they’d make sure everyone was kept happy and had whatever they needed.
She looked around the room for Cam. Now that her duties were over, she could spend some time with her husband. She spotted him at one end of the room, talking to a group of people. As though he felt her stare, he looked up, caught her eye. She motioned with her head and smiled, and he left his group and came to her.
“How’s it going, honey? Good turnout, it looks like.”
“A great turnout. We sold everything.”
“Ah, hence the celebratory glass in your hand.”
Jillian smiled and took a sip. “Yes. Plus, it’s the only thing that’ll kill the pain of these shoes. I’ve been in heels all night and my feet are killing me.”
Cam moved closer and brushed his fingertips over her cheek. “Poor baby. I have just the cure for that.”
“A good fo
ot rub?”
“Hmmm, maybe,” he growled in her ear. “But I had something else in mind.”
“Since we’re standing in the middle of the gallery in a large group of people, I think your cure is going to have to wait.”
He moved his hand over her back. The plunging lines of her dark red cocktail dress left her back bare all the way down to the base of her spine. His hand was warm as it slid over her skin, leaving a trail of sensual tingling in its wake.
His head moved back to her ear again, and she could feel the warmth of his breath there. “Come up to your office with me.”
“I can’t.” But something about the way he was touching her, his breath in her ear, was making her hot all over.
“Come on, honey. They don’t need you here anymore. And I do need you.”
“Cam—”
“I’ve never fucked you on your desk before, have I? I’d really like to bend you over and spank you as I fuck you from behind.”
A warm shiver started deep inside her. Her legs went a little weak. She couldn’t speak.
“Don’t think about it. Just do it. Follow me.”
Cam took her by the arm, and she kept a small smile plastered on her face as she let him lead her through the room and up the stairs. She couldn’t get the image he’d created out of her mind. Bent over her desk, just as he’d said. Her dress hiked up around her waist. Cam behind her with his big cock ready to thrust into her.
Yes.
In her office Cam turned one small lamp on and locked the door. He held her arm and guided her to the front of her wide glass desk.
“Bend over it, Jillian. Do it.”
God, she loved that commanding tone. She bent over, settling her elbows on the desk, knowing her short, red dress would pull taut over her ass, and her high heels made her legs look great.
Cam came up behind her and hitched her dress up around her waist, just as she’d imagined he would. She felt the cool air hit her bare thighs and buttocks. She was wearing a G-string, which didn’t cover much.
“Beautiful, baby,” Cam crooned, sliding his hands over her ass.
