“Can I ask a question?” I said.
Landon seemed like he was actually considering saying no, but then he nodded.
“Hypothetically. Let’s say you and I wound up… together. What would happen if I decided I didn’t want to keep doing all of this?”
“Then I guess it would be the end for us,” Landon said.
I stared.
He flashed the shadow of a smile. “To tell the truth, I hadn’t thought about it. BDSM has been part of my life for a long time now. Being here. This club. I guess it was a way of trying to grab control in my life. For as long as I could remember, everything was always just changing so fast and nothing I ever did could stop it. Here, though? I thought if I could just take over the club one day, I’d finally have the control I wanted. But I care more about you than any of that. I’d still give up the club for you if that was what it took, Andi.”
He put his hand on my cheek, eyes falling to my lips and then lifting back to meet my gaze. “Because I love you.”
My throat felt dry, and it might have had something to do with the fact that you couldn’t properly hydrate yourself on a liquid intake of Diet Coke, candy, and a few pounds of rice and chicken. But I also hadn’t expected that.
I tried to remember how long I’d actually known Landon. Was it insane to be dropping “L” bombs after… what, a few weeks? Especially only hours after I’d finally forgiven him for lying to me? But there it was again. I was thinking about what someone else would think or say if I told him I loved him too. I hadn’t even stopped to ask myself what I felt.
“I love you too,” I said. “But,” I stick a finger in his face, “you can still screw this up, so don’t get too excited. And I’m willing to give all of this a shot, by the way. I was just curious.”
Landon gently took my finger and lowered it. “A good submissive doesn’t jab fingers at her dom.”
“Unless it’s up his butt?” I asked sweetly.
Landon was trying not to laugh, but he failed. “No. If you want to keep your job as my submissive, you will definitely not be putting your fingers up my ass.”
I wiggled my eyebrows. “Some things are worth losing jobs over. Like talking back to a rude customer. Standing up for your principles against your boss. Piercing your dom’s dark star…”
Landon laughed louder now, then cringed, as if he was picturing it. He took a deep breath, smoothing his features. “Okay. You make this much more difficult than it should be. Where was I?”
I pointed to the spot on the floor he’d been standing for the past few minutes. “Right there, dom, sir. You haven’t really moved for a little while.”
Landon glared. “No more games.”
I looked down at the floor, doing my best impression of someone who doesn’t have a few sarcastic responses floating around in their head.
30
Landon
It took a hell of a lot more effort than it should have, but I eventually got my mind right. From the moment I’d met her, Andi had a way of making me feel like I was off-balance. That might have made some men uncomfortable. For me, it was refreshing.
“This room is mostly normal,” I said. “There are a few little bells and whistles that might make things more enjoyable, but for all intents and purposes, it’s just a bedroom. If you find this to your liking, there are all sorts of devious paths we can take in the future. For now, I have a feeling this will do just fine. Now… Take off everything but your panties and lay on the bed. Face down.”
Andi shot me a nervous look. I was impressed when just a few seconds later, she peeled off her hideous sweater again and let it fall. It took almost all of my willpower not to go to her at that moment and pull one of her beautiful, hard nipples into my mouth. Instead, I stood and waited.
She paused, took a deep breath, and then unbuttoned her jeans. They were so tight she had to wiggle her hips to shimmy out of them. I let out a low, quiet groan I hoped she didn't hear as I watched. Her skin was absolutely milky and flawless. The little pink thong she wore gave me a tantalizing view of the bikini-shape of her tan lines.
Andi did a little hop as she yanked on her jeans to get her foot out, and then lost her balance. In a confusing second, she had fallen to the ground with a thump. She let out a sound like a deflating balloon, then rolled over and covered her eyes. Her jeans were still tangled around one of her ankles.
I had to press my hand to my mouth to stop from laughing. It didn’t seem like she’d actually hurt anything, but I thought I should be sure. “Are you okay?”
“That depends,” she said, voice heavily muffled by the carpet she was talking into. “Can a bruised ego get infected?”
“I’m going to help you with these, since it seems too dangerous for you to do alone.” I eased the jeans off her ankles, not missing the opportunity to appreciate my view. Her ass was only inches away, and my eyes followed the fabric of her thong to the slight mound of her pussy. I bit my lip hard, fighting back the urge to reach out for her.
“Do I stay here, or do I get up and try again? You never covered what happens if a submissive fails to perform a task.”
I grinned to myself. “Because I have never heard of a submissive failing to walk across the room without injuring herself.”
“Funny,” Andi said.
I helped her to her feet. “Try again.”
She walked to the bed, then jumped and spread her arms, landing on the soft comforter with a dramatic woosh.
Apparently, I was going to need to get more specific with my commands when it came to Andi. Take off your clothes. Carefully. Walk to the bed and get on it like a normal human being and not like a five-year-old getting into the pool.
I knelt beside the bed and opened a drawer in the frame. Inside, there were soft-tipped whips, flails, riding crops, paddles, and all sorts of bondage equipment plus an assortment of vibrators and insertables. Most of it was far, far more intense than anything I personally preferred to partake in. I grabbed a stiff leather riding crop. In the wrong hands, it would’ve been a brutal tool that could do serious damage. The way I intended to use it was going to be exceedingly gentle.
“What you feel,” I said, lowering the tip of the crop—a thin, folded over strip of leather—to the small of her back, “is a riding crop. I thought it was appropriate, given that you’re going to be about as easy to break in as a wild horse.”
Andi rolled her head to the side so she could see me with one eye. “Did you just compare me to a horse?”
“Only your temperament,” I said. I gave a light little whack on her ass with the crop. It was roughly the same force you’d get from bringing two fingers down on the back of someone’s hand. Enough to startle, but not even sting.
She jumped, which I knew was mostly from the surprise. Still, part of what I needed to do was assess her pain tolerance, among other things.
“Did that hurt?” I asked. I ran the tip of the crop back up her spine while I waited for a response.
“No. Not really,” she said.
“Good. That was a warning. You’re my submissive, and I expect you to wait until I ask you to speak or give you permission to speak freely.
Her lips curled upward at the corner. “Yes, sir.”
I knew she was trying to be surly, but the way sir sounded as it rolled off her tongue sent a warm rush through me. I continued moving the crop against her bare skin in a slow pattern. The way goosebumps sprouted up in its path was mesmerizing, making her soft skin look so touchable it almost hurt to keep control.
But this was part of what I enjoyed. Waiting to take what I wanted from Andi was only going to make the moment of indulgence that much sweeter. The longer I tormented her, the more I drove myself wild with need.
“Pain is a means to an end. A little injection of pain at the right moment is like a clean slate. Pleasure builds, and builds, and builds,” I said, lowering the crop to her inner thighs and letting it brush her swollen lips. Then I flicked my wrist lightly, giving her another tap on t
he ass that briefly made her skin turn pink. “And the pain brings you right back to the start line. So that every touch is like the first again.”
Andi was breathing heavier now. The movement of her chest was making her body rise slightly with each inhalation, so I could start to judge how she was reacting.
I needed to read her carefully—almost supernaturally. I needed to know where her line was and help her work her way to that point until a single, light breeze could push her over the edge. I brought the riding crop down again and dragged it in a slow circle between her legs, then used my hand to urge her legs open wider.
She gasped.
My cock was already painfully hard, but when I saw the fabric of her panties slowly darken with her arousal, I had to close my eyes it hurt so bad. I wanted to feel her pussy gripping every inch of my length—to bury myself in her as deeply as I could. I wanted everything she had and more, but still, I waited.
“I’m going to slide your panties down, now,” I said calmly.
Andi’s breathing hitched, but after a few seconds, she was breathing normally again, so I reached for the waistband and pulled them down. I drank in the sight of her, committing every curve and crevice to memory as best I could.
“Now roll onto your back,” I said.
Andi obeyed. It was like in the sensory deprivation room. Her wall of jokes and sarcasm was far thicker and harder to penetrate than anyone I’d ever met, but there was a point where she could submit. She was there now, and God, it was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen. Knowing my wild, obstinate Andi was lurking just behind those docile, willing eyes was sexy as hell, even if I couldn’t quite explain why.
I set the riding crop back in the drawer and pulled out a candle and a box of matches. “Now,” I said. “This part is going to sting just a little.”
31
Andi
The match whispered against the box and hissed to life. It cast an orange glow on Landon’s features, reminding me how many times I’d compared him to a devil.
I thought about how wrong that had been. He wasn’t a devil. He was far from it. Landon was someone more like me than I’d imagined. The difference was I’d learned to protect my heart with a thick tangle of humor. Landon covered his in a false veil of darkness. Anyone who got too close would have their mouth filled with poison, just like I had. But I guess it took a combination of my willful grandfather and my own stupidly stubborn nature to get through it to the good guy beneath it all.
Landon moved the candle lower, drawing my attention. When he spoke, his voice was low and controlled—almost hypnotic. It felt like I was being led through some sort of ritual.
“Some areas of the body are more sensitive than others,” he said, tilting the candle so a little droplet of hot wax fell just below my collarbone. I jolted against the sudden heat, but it passed as quickly as it had come.
I let out a breath, relaxing a little when I realized the pain wasn’t anywhere near what I’d imagined.
“Others,” he said, dripping wax just to the side of my nipple. “Are very sensitive.”
I wiggled against the burn, which took a little longer to subside than the first had. It wasn’t quite unpleasant, and I definitely wasn’t into “yellow” territory yet, but it had gone from barely registering on the pain scale to something that was at least worthy of a little fear.
Suddenly, the idea that Landon had complete autonomy to drip his hot wax wherever he could reach on my body felt a little more sinister. Just as I was letting nothing turn into a slight bout of panic, he bent his neck and pressed his lips to the spot where the first drop of wax had landed. With his tongue, he detached it from my skin and then pulled it away with his teeth. He pulled the small circle of wax from between his teeth without breaking eye contact.
A shiver of pleasure throbbed in my lower belly.
Okay. If the game is that every bit of wax is going to get cleaned up by his mouth, then sign me up.
He dripped four more spots of wax from my sternum down to my hip next. The most painful was the one that landed near my belly button.
Landon bent again, sucking off the wax from my breast, my chest, and all the way down to my belly so that his face was nearly between my legs. A pleasant, warm hum was growing down there—like a familiar song working its way toward the crescendo. Except there was nothing familiar about this song, and I had no idea how far we were from the climax.
“Our brains do strange things when it comes to pleasure and pain,” Landon said. He spoke in an almost distracted way, like a master explaining his craft while his hands were busy with the work. “While different, they are similar in surprising ways.”
Another drop of wax.
I squirmed, fighting the urge to bat at it with my hands as the sense of scalding heat lasted two heartbeats, then three. This time, he didn’t make me wait before using his mouth to sooth away the sting. He carefully kissed the spot. After the heat of the wax, his mouth felt deliciously good, like slipping into crystal springs on a hot day.
“But sometimes,” he said. He set the candle down and started to strip off his tie, then his jacket, and then he worked his way down the buttons of his shirt. Each button revealed more and more of his well-muscled torso. “Sometimes all it takes is the memory of pain to intensify the pleasure.”
I turned his sentence over in my head a few times, trying to puzzle out exactly what that meant was coming next. First, he’d slapped me around with his little leather stick. Not so bad. It had been more like getting hit with a feather because he had such a light touch with it. Then the wax had been a step more extreme, but I’d also thoroughly enjoyed the part where he removed it with his mouth.
So, what came next? Was he going to throw baseballs at me and then try to soothe away the sting with a vibrator? Or maybe his fingers?
“Why are you grinning?” he asked.
I cleared my face. “No reason,” I said meekly. Maybe because I’m thinking stupid, silly thoughts? Or because it feels like if you so much as lay a finger on my clit, I’m going to explosively come?
Landon considered me, then let his shirt fall to the ground. For all his iron and seriousness in here, I didn’t fail to note the distinct bulge in his pants. It helped to remember that no matter how awkward I might feel laying here and being completely out of my element, he was still enjoying this.
I was waiting for him to dig something new out of his little bag of tricks below the bed, but instead, his hands went to his belt. My eyebrows climbed as I listened to the soft, tantalizing jingle of him pulling it free. His pants slid down just a fraction of an inch, giving me a glimpse of the sharp way his muscles cut diagonally down toward his cock. I wondered how much trouble I’d be in if I reached out and touched it. The thought was tempting, but I also was far too curious to see what he’d do if I kept behaving, so I controlled my urges.
I heard him kick off his shoes, then he pulled off his socks and pants. He was only wearing a pair of black briefs that made the outline of his erection deliciously clear.
Watching him undress was fascinating, and not just because he was built like an underwear model with the face of a brooding movie star. He was so unabashedly confident. There wasn’t an ounce of self-consciousness, even though he could clearly see me feasting with my eyes as he stripped for me.
He looked down at the drawer where he’d pulled the riding crop and candle from, then hesitated. His eyes flicked back up to me, almost as if a thought occurred to him—a thought he was trying to push down.
Landon kicked the drawer closed, then reached to pull me toward the edge of the bed and roll me on my side so I was facing him. “Suck my cock,” he said. “And don’t use your hands.”
Oh. It was the first time I was glad I had a safe word. It wasn’t that I wanted to say “no” in any capacity or that I was scared. Instead, it let me look at his commands and the possibility of what was to come in an entirely different way. It was exciting. There was no danger here. It was like a ride where I c
ould slam the “stop” button if it got to be too frightening.
I noticed that Landon waited a couple seconds before he hooked his thumb in the elastic of his underwear and tugged it down. I assumed he was giving me a chance to use the safe word.
His dick sprung free, wobbling a little comically in front of my face.
I grinned up at him. “Penises are kind of funny. You have to admit,” I said.
Landon glared down at me. He didn’t look like he was particularly in the mood to talk about how goofy it was that men had these floppy appendages between their legs.
I was forced to take a deep breath, lick my lips, and stop trying to stall. I had actually never done this before, but I wasn’t about to admit that to Landon. Then again, I’d eaten ice cream cones, bananas, and my fair share of lollipops, so how hard could it be?
I wiggled toward him slightly in a not entirely erotic way—given that I was on my side. For some reason, my first move was to plant a kiss right on the head of his cock. I had to hold back a goofy smile when it twitched in response. Oh, you like that, do you, big guy?
I opened my mouth and eased the first inch or two of him inside my mouth. I quickly realized I needed to open wider to avoid scraping him with my teeth. I snuck a look up at him and saw him looking down at me with a curious expression.
Shit. He was figuring me out, wasn’t he? He knew this was my first time.
I decided to pull out the real moves. The only problem was I didn’t have any real moves. So, I just tried my best to look like I knew what I was doing. I moved my head up and down, stealing glances up at him as I did.
When I remembered I had a tongue and started swirling it around or running it along his shaft as I moved, I felt the way his whole body tensed. His eyes were closed tight now, and his hands started threading through my hair.
The Golden Pecker Page 19
