Then I bite. Not hard, but enough to make her gasp.
It’s time to open my present.
The zipper starts at her neck and runs almost all the way down her back. “Hands behind your head.”
Quickly, she obeys, weaving her fingers together and putting them in place.
“Good,” I encourage. Slowly, ever so slowly, I pull the zipper down. Her dress is clingy enough that it doesn’t just fall, at least not until I touch my fingers to her waist through gap of the open zipper. I run them up along her sides, gently separating her from the dress, and when I reach forward to cup her full breasts, the dress falls to hang from her waist. She draws a sharp breath as I caress her soft flesh. Bending to kiss her neck, I murmur into her ear, “You have fantastic breasts.”
“Thank you, Sir,” she responds in a whisper.
I take my time, touching them, hefting them, capturing her hard nipples between my fingertips and rolling them. She closes her eyes, but is a good sub and doesn’t move. She’ll get her reward for that, but now I’m eager to see the rest.
Crouching, I hook my fingers by her waist and pull. The clingy material comes down, revealing a perfect heart-shaped ass, bisected by a lacy, black thong. As soon as I pull her dress past her hips, it no longer has anything to hang on to, and I let it drop.
What a vision, her in nothing but a thong, boots, gloves and that wonderful collar around her neck. It’s only with great willpower that I stick to the plan. My dick is painfully cramped in my pants, and aching to be let out.
Soon.
“So fucking beautiful.” Gripping her hips firmly, I hold her in place while I lean in to place a kiss on each of her ass cheeks. So pale and unblemished, a perfect canvas begging for the pink and red of a good spanking. Or the welted red stripes of a whip. Decisions, decisions.
“Tha—thank you, Sir.” With a slight stutter, she can’t hide that she’s nervous, but she hasn’t used her safewords.
Still. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
From behind, I can watch her sides expand and contract with her heavy breathing. I like that she’s nervous. That she dares to step outside of her comfort zone. That she’s willing to trust me.
As I tug her thong down, I can barely tear my eyes away, but I have to, at least for a moment. I consider what we have available to make my plan work. “How do you usually play with yourself?”
“What?” A short pause. “Sir?”
“On your back? On all fours? Chair, bed, floor?” The room is comfortably warm, intended for use while scantily dressed, or not at all. The floor is rubberized with a bit of give, but I want her up so I can see her better. The spanking bench could work, but the best bet might be the couch or the chair next to it.
“On my back, Sir, but there’s no bed. Where do you want me?”
“In the chair, sweetness. Hook your legs over the arms, so I can see.”
Wow, the blush does go all the way down, doesn’t it?
But she obeys, if gingerly. Sitting carefully down in the chair with her legs demurely together, she delays as long as she can before she looks up to find me. No leniency here, I can promise her that. Not unless she uses a safeword. It must be obvious in my expression, because she doesn’t argue.
That moment when she spreads her legs in front of me, opening herself up my gaze, to total vulnerability is the most breathtaking moment of sexiness I’ve ever experienced. I almost forget myself, spellbound by her naked beauty.
“I’ve… never let anyone see me do this before. I’m a little nervous.” With a little smile, she fidgets with her hands, as if she doesn’t know exactly where to begin.
“Start by closing your eyes. Pretend I’m not here,” I suggest. She does. “What do you usually think about?”
She gives a short, embarrassed laugh. “You.”
Basically what every guy ever wants to hear. I’m not going to last if I don’t get her going.
“Okay, so pretend I’m watching you, thinking how beautiful you are. I’m rock hard, and I can’t touch. All I can do is watch you be sexy.”
Another laugh. “You are watching me.”
“Yes, but this is fantasy me. The one who doesn’t scare you or make you feel awkward, because he’s not really here.”
She nods, even if her expression doesn’t look convinced. But she leans her head back to rest on the chair, and then slowly, tentatively, her right hand glides across her soft stomach to settle just above her glistening pussy. I love that she’s still wearing her gloves. She might be nervous, but there’s no doubt that she’s turned on.
Moving closer, as quietly as I can, I kneel in front of her to watch. I’m so close that if she were to suddenly close her legs, she’d trap me between them.
22
Miranda
Keegan’s right there. I can sense his gaze searing my skin everywhere his attention lands. I don’t dare open my eyes, because if I do, I’ll completely lose my nerve. Instead, I try to find that space in my mind where I usually find him, where I go when I have time alone to let my deepest fantasies unfold.
Without even really thinking about it, I touch myself, one hand spreading my own slickness over my clit while the other idly plays with my nipple. With the gloves on, it’s almost like there’s someone else touching me, but it feels nice.
Shivers chase each other across my skin while I move my fingers faster and faster. It’s not long before I find just the right rhythm to bring me closer and closer to release. I pinch my nipple hard, then press two fingers into myself while rubbing my clit with my thumb, pretending that it’s his teeth and cock stimulating me.
I’m not sure how long I play, but when I moan out loud, I’m barely aware that he’s actually here and watching.
That is, until his tongue flicks past my hardworking fingers to touch my sensitive skin. I yelp in surprise and pull them away. They’re immediately replaced by two of his, much thicker than my own. He closes his mouth around my clit and sucks.
Playing with myself is nice, but the real deal is so much nicer.
“Thank you, Sir,” I groan as I flex my hips against him, pressing myself against his talented mouth.
“I couldn’t fucking wait anymore. You looked so damned sexy like that. You’d better get used to playing with yourself while I’m around, because I can guarantee you I’m going to tell you to do it again.”
God, he can tell me anything he likes if he’s going to keep licking me like that. The combined assault of his rough, thrusting fingers and his broad tongue flitting into every sensitive crevice has me gripping the chair so I won’t simply launch out of it.
He’s so good. And he’s mine.
Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I arch my back as a tidal wave of dirty, sexy, sinful sensations washes over me. I’m so close, so incredibly close. With the arm rests for leverage under my legs, my ass isn’t even touching the seat as I thrust myself at his mouth, willing him to bring me over the edge rather than keep me teetering on it.
And then he stops, pulling back with a glistening grin. I stare at him, nearly in a panic. “Nooo. Come back.”
“You’d better watch your tone,” he scolds with a raised finger, even though his eyes spark with amusement. “You’ve already earned some spanks. You wouldn’t want me to tack on more, would you?”
“What, but I didn’t—”
“Uh uh uh,” he interrupts. “That’s at least two more. You come when I say you come, not before.”
Oh God, seriously? I was so so close, and I’m still tingling and shivering. It wouldn’t take much to bring me back to the edge, either, but now I have to wait? “You’re cruel.”
His thick, dark brows furrow.
“Sir,” I tack on in a rush, withering at the thought of his displeasure. If I piss him off, it’ll take even longer.
“Stand up.” He’s tone is flat, yet commanding. It’s the voice of a Dom who’s displeased with his disobeying sub. The shivers down my spine are of a dif
ferent kind this time, and I leap to my feet, nearly forgetting about the fact that I’m completely exposed to him.
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.” I look up apologetically, and freeze for just a second. There’s something familiar about the stern look on his face and the way he’s holding his body. Shaking my head, I drive away the impulse to run and hide.
This is Keegan. I’m safe with him.
Keegan frowns, not angry, but concerned. “Are you all right?”
Swallowing nervously, I mentally force the memories that haunt my nightmares back into the deepest depths of my mind, where I can forget about them again. Then I nod. “Yeah, just a little nervous.” I smile. “Sir.”
A crooked smile curves his lips. “Okay. You know what to do if you’re not.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He steps close, way inside my personal space. Placing a rough finger under my chin, he ensures that I can’t look away. “While we’re in here, I’m in charge. I expect no complaints, and no hesitation. Is that clear?”
I nod, letting Keegan’s nearness fill my senses. “Yes, Sir.”
“Barring safewords, of course.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Bring me those cuffs.” He points at a selection of straps and buckles on the shelves by the door.
“Yes, Sir. How many?”
“Wrists and ankles.”
“Yes, Sir.” I hurry, happy to have a purpose.
When I return, he takes them from me without a word and goes to work on attaching them, one by one. He tightens each cuff carefully, ensuring with his little finger that they won’t hurt my circulation, then he brings me to the cross attached to the wall. In rapid order, my cuffs are clipped to each point of the large X-shape so I’m facing the wall and my back is to him. He even finds a hook he can attach my collar to. I test my bonds, but all I get is a brief rattle of metal. There’s no way I’m going anywhere.
He pats my ass, foreshadowing my punishment. “If you can’t take orders, maybe a little discipline will impress the importance of obeying your master.”
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.” I’m just saying the same things over and over, but what else can I do?
He moves closer, pressing himself against my back, making me strikingly aware of the fact that while I’m basically naked, he’s still fully dressed. One of his hands slides up my side until it’s cupping my breast, my nipple firmly held between his thumb and index finger. He squeezes until I draw a harsh breath between my teeth. The other hand goes to my hip and pulls me back against him. The cross is on a bit of a pedestal, so I’m at just the right level if he wants to take me right here. God, that would be sexy.
“I want to know that you’re okay with this,” he murmurs into my ear.
“I am, Sir.” I just wish he wouldn’t give me so much time to think about it.
“Normally I might not be so cautious, but we’re still learning each other and communication is important.”
“I’m fine, Sir. I trust you.” And that’s the scary truth. Somehow he’s sneaked past my boundaries and I trust him to tie me up, to take care of me and to punish me. With Keegan, I know it’ll be good for both of us. That’s absolutely insane, isn’t it? And yet, here I am, telling him that I’m okay with it.
Me
“And I trust you to be honest about this.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” And with that, he smacks my ass firmly, leaving his hand there to grip it tight. “Because this is mine, and I intend to have my way with it.”
I draw a sharp breath, and my earlier misgivings fall away. I’m right in the zone, right there with Keegan. His. “Yes, Sir.”
“No point in waiting any longer, then.” He takes a step back, and I know what’s coming. My whole body tenses in anticipation. Fixing my gaze at the wall in front of me, I wait. “Ass out,” he instructs.
Oh God. I’ve never been comfortable with posing sexy. I mean, I don’t think I’m unattractive, but I’m not the type to flaunt anything either, even if it’s for my lover. Swallowing a mixture of pride and embarrassment, I press my ass backwards, presenting it as a target.
Nothing happens.
I want so dearly to ask him to get on with it, but I don’t even dare look over my shoulder. He’s probably just waiting for me to do something else to punish me for, so I hold the position, back straight and ass out while trying to pretend I don’t feel ridiculous.
“That is one sexy sight,” he says appreciatively.
And then he spanks me, his hand impacting on my ass with a loud slap that echoes in the room. I shriek, caught off guard after his compliment. After all that anticipation, he still managed to nail me when I didn’t expect it. Red tendrils of pain reach out from where he hit me, and instinctively, I arch away from him, pressing myself up against the cross.
“Back in position, sweetness.” His tone makes it clear that if I’m not back there in no time flat, I’m getting more of the same. Well, even more. Why do I want this?
That spank hurt like crazy, and I suspect he was just warming up. I can stop everything right now if I want, but I already know I don’t really want to. I might not understand why this calls to me, but I can’t deny that it does. So instead of calling out a color, I push my ass back to where it was.
“Good.” He spanks me again, the other cheek this time. You’d have thought a flogger would be more painful, but whether it’s because my ass is bare, or he went easy on me before, his hand stings a lot worse. Even still, I don’t flinch away this time. Once the initial shock wears off, I feel the invisible thread that connects us. Makes us two parts of a whole, each contributing an opposite half.
It makes me feel like I belong.
To him.
His hand connects again, forcing a sharp hiss from me. My ass is going to be bright red in the morning. It’s the curse—or blessing, depending on who you ask—of having pale skin.
“I fucking love watching you take it. Your ass was made for this.” I can hear the joy in his voice, and then the drawn breath as he swings again, hitting just where my ass meets my thigh. The sting surges right from where he connects with my sensitive skin, straight to between my legs. As he’s getting warmed up, he’s warming me up too. I adjust my legs a little for stability.
“Thank you, Sir.”
Again he strikes, and this time he leaves his hand right there, like a burning brand until he slides it down past my asshole and finds my dripping folds. I’d never imagined a spanking would get me this soaking wet, but maybe it has something to do with who’s delivering it.
He pushes into me, making me moan and squeeze around his finger. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”
Has the air gotten thinner in here? I gasp. “Yes, Sir.”
Starting slowly, he gets into an in-and-out rhythm that strokes me just the way I need. Maybe this time he’ll actually let me come. He laughs, and I realize he won’t, but there’s nowhere for me to go. The little I can, I push back at him, hoping that if I’m quick, I can get there before he figures out what I’m doing.
No such luck.
With a sudden movement, he withdraws his finger and spanks me again. I cry out, more in surprise than from the pain. “You’re greedy. I haven’t given you permission yet.” His voice is a heady mix of admonishment and amusement.
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”
God, I just want him to take me. Any way he wants, so long as he gets me there. My legs are shaking, and it’s not from his strikes, but out of frustration, from desire, from the desperate need he’s fueled in me.
He steps up right behind me again, growling into my ear while he reaches around to squeeze my breasts, “When we finally get there, you’re going to be so desperate you’ll do anything. I’ll bring you right up to the edge, and when I’m ready—and only then—will I push you over. You’ll never have come so hard in your life.”
I press back, trying to grind myself against the front of his pants, against the hardness that I know is t
here, but he steps back with another laugh. “Greedy, greedy.” Each word is accompanied by a smack on my ass. I moan deep in my throat in frustration.
“A dirty little girl like you is going to get exactly what she deserves”
Even as he says the words, my father’s voice echoes in my head, saying almost the exact same thing, You’d better behave, or I’ll show you that bad little girls get what they deserve. Suddenly, everything comes crashing down.
Dad’s image flashes in front of me, the threat of his raised hand, the cruel sneer on his face. The cruelty that Mom faced for almost ten years, redirected towards me. Panic grips me, and I’m suddenly so very aware of how helpless I am, how vulnerable, how trapped.
This time, there’s no way a few deep breaths can help. I’m completely unable to shake my panic.
“Red!” I scream, the room echoing the word back at me. “Red! Red!”
To Keegan’s credit, he reacts with the speed of lightning. In moments, he has my cuffs released. He tries to take me in his arms. “Miranda, what’s wrong. What’s going—”
I push away. “Don’t touch me!”
He looks dumbstruck at my tone. Shit, it wasn’t supposed to go like this. It’s not really his fault, but the way my mind is whirring, I can’t help myself.
“I’m sorry, just please. Don’t touch me. I can’t—”
Shit.
23
Miranda
“Miranda, what can I do? Please, talk to me. Let me help.” Keegan’s voice is strained. He’s obviously holding himself back with a lot of effort.
“I’m sorry, I need to go.” My dress and panties are still on the floor where he dropped them. I rush over to pull them on, growling in frustration when the waistband catches on one of my heels.
“What? Please. Something obviously triggered you. We should talk about it.” Concern is written all over his face, but my mind is going haywire. I hate that Dad has this kind of hold on me so many years later, but I’m too upset to talk right now. Not when all I can see is my father standing over me with his hand raised.
Trust Me: A BDSM Romance Page 14
