He stood and curved his hands around her upper arms. “This is more than a desire for an occasional kick for you, isn’t it?”
She drew a few, shuddering breaths.
The silence stretched for so long he began to wonder if she would answer.
“Yes, Mr Tomlinson, it is.”
He wanted to know much, much more about her. Watching her, he fisted the chain that draped between her breasts and dragged her nipples together. She gasped but didn’t protest. She closed her eyes. There was no anguish on her face, only a calm serenity. “Beautiful,” he told her. He eased the pressure.
“Thank you, Mr Tomlinson.”
“I do love good manners. How would you like your spanking?”
“Well done,” she said cheekily.
He gave her clamps a quick tug.
She sighed.
“Incorrigible wench,” he said with an exaggerated huff.
“I liked that,” she told him. “The unexpected. It’s different when I play with myself. Not knowing what you’re going to do, how it’s going to feel, being unable to brace myself. To be honest, Mr Tomlinson, it doesn’t matter. If it pleases you to continue as you were earlier, that’s fine with me. Over the knee works. Or there’s a reason I bought a four-poster bed.”
Since he’d had her across his lap at the Den, he thought he’d go for something else, though if he were honest, he’d admit that he loved the feel and the sight of her body as she squirmed against his skin. “I’m going to readjust your cuffs.” He released the lock and freed one wrist. He rubbed her skin because he wanted the connection he got from touching her. “They don’t seem as if they were too tight.”
“Not at all.”
He massaged her shoulders as well before instructing, “Kneel on the edge of the bed with your ass in the air.”
Her motions were deliberate, slow and feminine. As he’d started giving orders, her breathing pattern had changed in response. “Tits on the mattress, Maggie. That’s it. I want your breasts to feel those clamps. Ah, yes. Now arch your back a bit more. Show me that beautiful butt.” He waited while she followed his instruction. “I should take a picture,” he said. “Can’t think of a nicer screen saver.”
“I hope it would be a distraction,” she responded.
“The ultimate. Everything about you is.” Including the fact she hadn’t protested his idea. He walked around to the far side of the bed. “Give me your wrists, please.”
She stayed in the position he’d ordered her into, and she could only lift her head a few inches to look at his eyes as she stretched her hands towards him. Her eyelids were lowered a bit, and he was recognising the look as one that came over her when she was getting deeper and deeper into a submissive headspace.
He secured the cuffs and checked the fit. He held her gaze. “I’m going to beat you,” he informed her, “and give you another well-deserved orgasm.”
“Thank you, Mr Tomlinson.”
“Are you comfortable enough?”
“Not at all.”
He grinned. “Perfect.”
“I figured that might be your response, Mr Tomlinson.”
“Do you really want it otherwise?”
“No,” she said clearly.
“As I thought.” He moved behind her.
He trailed his fingers down her back until he was between her buttocks. She parted her legs to give him greater access.
He saw the tension in her muscles as she fought to keep herself in place while he fondled her pussy. He continued to touch and explore.
“Please, please, please,” she said, now shamelessly pressing against his hand.
The tang of her arousal rent the air and urged him on in a primal need for possession. “How do you keep this side of yourself hidden at work?” He gave her a few light slaps.
“Oh, Mr Tomlinson. That’s… It’s too…” she said as she wriggled, keeping her butt high.
“You’re a bit sensitive from earlier?”
“Yes. It won’t take much for me to come. I thought I should let you know.”
“I’m glad you did.” He changed the tempo to give her momentary respite. “Will the spanking be more memorable to you if you don’t orgasm?”
“Probably,” she admitted.
“Better not take the chance, hmm?”
“As you wish, Mr Tomlinson.”
“I could listen to you say that all day long.” After another stroke—because he could—he removed his hand. “Shall I choose the implement? Or is there something you prefer?”
“We’ll go with Dom’s choice.”
“Another good answer, Maggie.” She might not have got the hang of the whole respect thing at work, but when her clothes came off, so did her bad attitude.
She settled deeper into the mattress and into herself.
At some point, the only thing he wanted her to wear was a handprint.
He unbuckled his belt and pulled it free from the loops with a snap. She moved in response to the sound, perhaps preparing herself for the first blow.
David folded the leather over and gripped the buckle. She swayed as he spread his legs and turned sideways to her so that he could aim and hit with good, precise swings.
He caught her ass with a vicious smack, and the crack reverberated from the ceiling.
Her sigh flowed over him, filled with the softness of her satisfaction.
She stayed in position and he began the beating in earnest. He caught each of her ass cheeks in turn then landed a powerful blow beneath the curve of her buttocks.
Unlike earlier, she kept quiet, not requiring anything to muffle her sounds.
“You’re made for this.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He fell into a harsh, regular rhythm, bringing back his arm and blazing the leather across her tender skin.
The harder he hit, the more she seemed to relax.
With a hiss of leather, he caught her hard, just above the backs of her knees.
Her head came up a little. A moment later, she said, “Thank you, Mr Tomlinson.”
He landed a second on top of it. While he didn’t intend to bruise her, that part of her legs would ensure a different position when she sat in her work chair for the next day or so.
“Damn. That’s good. More.”
David changed his stance and flicked out the belt so it was a single tail. Now he could use the end to catch her skin with the vicious licks she asked for.
She whimpered when he marked her, filling him with the masculine urge to give his woman what she was asking for.
“Please spread your knees farther apart.” Once she had, he continued, able to reach more of her unmarred and tender places.
Her noises became a little more pronounced, especially when he lighted across her cunt. “Such a good pet,” he murmured.
“Oh, Mr Tomlinson.”
“Is that a request for me to slow down?”
“No.”
“Or the gag?”
“If it pleases you, Sir. But it’s not necessary. Just, please, more.”
He resumed his hits, most of them across her buttocks punctuated by an occasional and careful tease of her pussy.
She grabbed the bedding, bunching the comforter in her fingers. The sight of her, exposed and helpless for him, filled him with an intoxicating mixture of power and humility.
Driven by her greed, he measured his spanks, delivering them at the same interval until her sounds all but ceased and she relaxed her grip. He knew she was getting lost in the endorphins flooding her system, but she had the presence of mind to keep her body in the position he’d commanded.
Though his arm was tired, he stayed with her a few more minutes. “I’m going to bring you back,” he said, his words a whisper so as not to shatter her reverie. He continued to let the belt fall, but he used less and less force. “Take your time,” he said. “I won’t hurry you.”
He touched her shoulder, then stroked down her spine.
It took at least a full minute
for her to begin to move. “That’s it,” he soothed, tossing the belt on nightstand. The buckle hit with a thud that startled her. “I’m going to release your cuffs,” he said with reluctance, remembering the way she’d run after their night at the Den. This time, he wouldn’t allow her to put immediate emotional or physical distance between them.
He moved to open the cuffs. As he had earlier, he rubbed her wrists. This time, she was chafed from the metal. “Stay there,” he told her. “Please.” He crossed to the master bath and washed his hands. He found towels in a cupboard, and he dampened one before carrying it back to her.
Her body was heated and covered in a sheen of perspiration.
His strokes were gentle as he wiped her shoulders, lifted her hair to cleanse her nape then moved lower to give relief to the welts on her buttocks and legs.
“That feels good. Thank you, Mr Tomlinson.”
He finished by dabbing her pussy and ass before tossing aside the towel and turning her over. With extreme care, he removed the clamps. Then he moved her to the middle of the bed and lay beside her, pulling her against him. “Don’t fight me,” he instructed.
Surprising him, she obeyed. She laid her head on his biceps, and her hair spilled across him.
Outside, the sky’s colour began to change as dusk cast shadows across the Rockies.
As she emerged from her place of pleasure-pain, he noticed subtle changes in her. Her breaths became deeper. Her body conformed to his. Her temperature stabilised. He kept hold of her, though, so she stayed warm.
“That was…”
He waited.
“One of the best beatings I’ve had.”
One of the best? “I’ll have to improve.”
She scooted away so she could face him. “I meant it as a compliment, Sir.”
He grinned and brushed hair back from her face. Her cheeks were still flushed. “Do you have bandages?”
“Mr Tomlinson?”
“This time, I fear my ego has sustained a mortal wound.”
“Well, I’ll volunteer my services so you can get more practise.” She gave a long-suffering sigh.
Sexy and sassy. This was the Maggie he was beginning to know, buried beneath layers of professional clothes and a haughty demeanour. The more she revealed the real her, the deeper he wanted to excavate.
He pulled her tighter against him and held her while she dozed. When she awoke and looked up at him, he got a full-on erection.
“Your turn, I should say, Mr Tomlinson.”
“Just to be clear, Maggie, I have no expectation that you have to sleep with me because I beat you.”
“I was hoping you would.”
He held her chin.
“It’s part of it, for me,” she admitted.
“I thought we had taken care of your restlessness.”
“You did.” Her big brown eyes were luminous. She blinked a couple of times, and if the woman was someone other than Maggie, he would have said the look was flirtatious. “Okay, fine,” she said. “Is this what you want to hear? I’m horny.”
He chuckled.
“I could give you a dozen emotional reasons, but I want sex. If you choose not to allow me to come, I accept that, but I really want your enormous, gigantic cock in me.”
“‘Enormous, gigantic cock’?” he couldn’t help but repeat.
“I’m trying to repair the damage to your self-esteem, Mr Tomlinson. Shall I go on? Gorgeous dick. Perfect penis. Throbbing—”
“Where’s that gag?”
“Are you going to do me, or what?”
“Well, when you ask so nicely…” He let her go long enough to get out of bed. He removed a condom from his wallet before placing it on the nightstand. Then he undressed and hung his clothes from a bedpost.
She turned on her side and propped her head on her upturned hand and watched as he put the condom on his dick.
“What was I thinking? That’s a gargantuan cock,” she said.
“Maggie… I think you’re forgetting yourself.”
She grinned and rolled to her back, spreading her legs in invitation. “Sorry, Mr Tomlinson.”
“I’d give you a paddling, but you’d like it.” He was as aroused as she was.
Maggie wrinkled her nose. “I could be brattier.”
“In which case, I’ll put you in a corner with your nose against the wall,” he warned as he joined her on the bed.
Colour drained from her face. “I’ll behave,” she said.
“Maggie, you couldn’t be any more wonderful.”
He guided his cockhead towards her entrance. He intended to enter her with short strokes so that her body could accommodate him. “You weren’t kidding about being horny.”
“I’m wet for you, Sir.”
He grabbed her hands and pinned them to the mattress above her.
“So hot,” she told him.
They were good together. He slid inside her in a single surge.
“That’s what I need. Hard, Mr Tomlinson.” She bit her lower lip. “I mean, if that’s all right?”
“I’ll fuck you however you want it.” He released his grip on her and said, “Put your legs around my waist.” That forced her to lift her hips and gave him a different angle. “Keep some of your weight on your arms or elbows so you can keep yourself open for me.” If she wanted a ride, he’d give it to her.
She looked at him, nothing but trust in her unblinking eyes.
It took all of his mental acuity not to lose himself in her hot cunt.
He drove into her again and again.
“This is… Damn. You’re so deep in me.”
Holding nothing back, he pounded her until she trembled, struggling to meet each of his surges. Her brow furrowed and she dug her heels into his back for purchase.
“Mr Tomlinson, I’m going to come,” she said.
Her words were as much a question as a warning. “Do it,” he instructed.
He felt her pussy clench and the constriction of her muscles milked his cock. He gritted his teeth, determined to satisfy her first.
He moved to put his hands beneath her buttocks, giving her extra support as she rode her orgasm.
She whimpered, and her body convulsed as she reached for it.
David spread her buttocks apart slightly and pressed his thumb into her anus.
Her scream rent the air.
Maggie broke position and grabbed his shoulders. She held onto him as she bucked and cried out.
For long seconds, she didn’t breathe. Then he felt her internal pressure ease.
She ploughed her hand into his hair. “Thank you.”
“Pleasuring you is an honour, Maggie.”
“Now your turn,” she said. “Before your big cock explodes.”
He’d have glanced pointedly at the gag, but he didn’t have the energy. If he were honest, he’d admit he didn’t want to look away. All he wanted was to fuck her.
David removed his thumb and adjusted their positions a bit. “Put your buttocks on the mattress and grab the headboard.” Once she did, he told her, “That’s it.” He had her where he wanted her, unable to move. He slid his hands beneath her and dug his fingers into the buttocks he’d reddened earlier.
With short, then lengthening strokes, he filled her. His orgasm built inside his balls. She muttered sounds of pleasure, feeding him.
“You fill me,” she told him. “So, so full.”
Knowing she was getting off was enough for him. It took less than thirty seconds for the orgasm to erupt from him—and that was what it felt like. It came from deep inside, hot and pulsing, joining them together.
He gritted his teeth as he filled the condom.
His nerve endings singed, he collapsed on her. God, this woman did it for him. Maybe it had been too long since he’d had sex with a woman he cared about. And perhaps it was the just effect of the curvy woman whose wild black hair matched her wanton abandon. Regardless, he hadn’t had this sense of connection in a long time, if ever.
&nb
sp; When he’d worked out on his rowing machine this morning, he hadn’t anticipated the day ending like this. She wasn’t the only one who would sleep well.
He disposed of the condom then returned to her and scooped her up. “We need a shower.”
“We?”
“I’m not done with you yet. A shower will restore you for what I have in mind next.”
Chapter Six
Last night, when David had said he had something in mind for her, he hadn’t lied.
He’d washed her hair in the shower then lathered her body and inspected it for bruises. After they’d dried off, he’d asked if she had arnica. He’d massaged the white cream onto the marks then he’d rubbed down her entire body.
If this was his version of aftercare, she was sorry she’d missed out that night at the Den. She’d expected he might want to talk, but he hadn’t. Instead, he’d put her on the side of the bed and fucked her from behind. He’d lasted a surprisingly long time, and he’d given her three orgasms before he’d claimed his own.
She’d fallen asleep in his arms, and it had been a long, long time since she’d done something like that.
Hours later, when her alarm had shattered the silence, he was gone. He hadn’t left a note. Other than the residual tenderness in her body and the fact her clothes were still in the living room, there was no sign he’d been there at all.
As she grabbed a cup of coffee, it hit her.
She’d slept all night with no bad dreams.
Being with him had been everything she’d hoped. He’d given her the beating she wanted. She’d surrendered to it, to him. He’d been ruthless and persistent, sending her to subspace and keeping her there.
The way he’d brought her back had been sublime. He’d let her drift, but he’d kept her aware of his presence. She’d known that he was watching her. If she’d been in any distress, he would have taken care of it, with great competence, she was sure.
Maggie wondered if that was one of the problems she’d had with him when they’d first met. His confidence had irritated her. She’d wanted to label it as over-confidence, but over the past months, he’d backed up everything he’d said.
Now, rather than chafing under his control, she was accepting it. Last night, she’d flourished as a result.
Conscious of the time ticking away, she hurried through her shower then walked into her closet.
In His Cuffs Page 10
