by Lila Dubois
“Naughty, naughty,” he scolded.
“I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to. I mean I didn’t… I just…”
“I understand, my sweet, and I will help you.”
“Help me?” she asked suspiciously, lowering her chin enough to look at him.
He smiled, and her breath caught in her throat. He really was devastatingly handsome, her dark prince. Her Dom.
He went to the kit, coming back with two sets of handcuffs. The chains connecting each cuff were far longer than normal—probably eighteen inches. “Step back, toward the fireplace.”
She looked over her shoulder as she walked backward until her feet were on the cool brick of the fireplace and her shoulders nearly touched the mantel.
“Right hand,” he commanded.
She held out her arm, and he attached the cuff to her wrist, then walked to the end of the mantel. He connected it to something she couldn’t see. When he was done, her arm was out to the side, but with enough slack that it wasn’t uncomfortable.
“There just happens to be a bolt or something on the end of the mantel?”
“I paid the owners quite a bit of money to let me install decorative circular pulls.”
He’d used this place before, with other women. Enough that he’d installed special hardware.
How many other women had stood where she was right now? Christiana gazed at the floor, trying to come to terms with her feelings. It was pointless to be jealous, even more pointless to be upset.
He bound her left wrist the same way he had her right, and the clicking sound the cuffs made jerked her attention back to the present. “Spread your legs,” he commanded.
Christiana inched her feet apart, toes curling against the cold brick. When he tapped the inside of her thigh, she spread them wider.
“In deference to your injured ass, I will not use the spreader bar. If you start to cramp or get uncomfortable, you may narrow your stance.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Now then, shall we begin?”
“Haven’t we already started?”
“No, my sweet. This was just preparation. Now it’s time to have some fun.”
“Who, exactly, will be having fun?” she asked in mock suspicion.
James smiled, and Christiana wished she were free so she could reach out and kiss him.
He ran the tip of the crop up from the inside of her ankle up to her thigh, stopping just short of touching her vulva. He repeated the motion on the other side, then lightly cropped her inner thighs.
Each small slap was a momentary sting, gone before the sound faded, leaving behind a spot of heat, and a spreading desire.
He worked his way up from her thighs to her lower abdomen, then up to her breasts. Christiana held her breath as he gently cropped her breasts, starting with the undersides. He used soft taps that made her breasts jiggle, then slightly harder smacks to the inner curves. Christiana twitched and gasped in reaction, her pussy throbbing with undeniable arousal. As she moved, the chains dangling from her wrists clanked, adding a delicious soundtrack to the scene. Her nipples were hard with need, and she vacillated between being scared of the idea of the crop landing on them and desperately wanting that to happen.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Hot,” she whimpered. “Needy. Please.”
“Please what?”
“More.”
“More what?” he demanded.
Christiana tipped her head back. “More of whatever you want to give me, Sir.”
“You’re perfection.” James swooped in and kissed her, hard, then stepped back and struck her right nipple with the crop. It wasn’t a particularly hard strike, but the explosion of sensation against such delicate skin made her scream. He didn’t wait, but struck her other nipple.
She arched her chest up, offering her breasts to his deliciously cruel touch, but the crop didn’t strike her again. She heard it clatter to the floor and then his tongue was on her, toying with her nipples. His right hand danced up the inside of her thigh. He cupped her pussy, and she leaned into him, trying to grind herself against him. He pulled his hand back and lifted his head from her breast until she stopped moving. She tried to maintain her posture, but she was so hot, so needy, that soon she couldn’t bring herself to remain still. When she moved against him, he pulled back.
He did it again and again, teasing and tormenting her. Each time she tried to deepen or intensify the contact between them, he would pull back to where she couldn’t reach him.
“Please,” she whimpered.
“What do you need, my sweet?”
Her mind whirled, the words escaping her in rough pants. “Tie me down,” she begged. “Make it so I can’t move.”
She felt him smile against her nipples, and then his hand was on her pussy, delving between the swollen lips of her sex to finger her clit. He circled the bundle of nerve endings in short, hard motions. She knew she was close to orgasm, and even if she’d wanted to hold off, she wouldn’t have been able to. He seemed to know just how to touch her, how to drive her wild. His other hand plucked and rolled her nipple while his mouth settled on her neck, laying hot, open-mouthed kisses on the sensitive spot just under her ear.
Pleasure rose higher and higher within her, and she relaxed into it, sure in the knowledge that she would come, that he had the skills and tenacity to bring her pleasure. She let her head fall back, breath coming in short gasps.
James closed his teeth on her neck in a gentle bite, and that little hint of pain pushed her over the edge.
She gasped and moaned as the orgasm rolled through her. His fingers kept moving and she tried to dance away, afraid of the intensity of sensation that came from having him continue to touch her through the orgasm. She closed her legs, but all that did was trap his hand between her thighs. He massaged her pussy, prolonging the orgasm until she was practically sobbing from the pleasure. She curled into him, the chains on her wrists clanking, and finally his hands stopped moving. She panted against his shoulder, her eyes closed as her body quaked with residual shudders.
James nuzzled the side of her head, kissing the top of her ear. He murmured something she didn’t catch due to her pleasure-induced coma.
“Hmmm?” she asked.
His chuckle rumbled through her, and then he kissed her ear once more before saying, “That’s one.”
Christiana made a sound best described as “meep!” as she realized challenging him to give her five orgasms had been a wonderfully terrible idea.
For her second orgasm, he placed her on all fours on the coffee table, binding her using the same cuffs for her hands, locking the free end of each cuff set to the legs of the table. Her own legs were bound in place with rope, wrapped across her calves and then under the tabletop until she was held firmly in place. He’d placed small cushions, almost like kneepads, under her knees before binding her, and she was surprisingly comfortable, minus the occasional twinge of nervous anticipation.
James sat on the floor, back against the front of a chair, and reached up, playing with her nipples as he sipped scotch and soda, though it seemed to be mostly soda water. She knew what he was drinking because he would occasionally reach up and kiss her, and when the liquor was gone from his glass he plucked out a large, square ice cube and rubbed it against her mouth.
“Lick it clean,” he commanded.
She took the ice cube into her mouth, sucking the last of the scotch from it. He took it from between her teeth and rose.
“Where are you going with that ice cube, Sir?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I really would.”
The ice cube landed on the small of her back, and she sucked in air. He trailed it along her spine down to her ass, then between the cheeks. Cold, cold water tricked over her anus and along the sides of her pussy. She hissed and her nipples, already hard from his ministrations, tightened into ruched buds. He rubbed the ice cube over her rear entrance. “Relax, my sweet.”
“Yes, I’m going to fill your sweet ass with ice, and then I’m going to place a nice plug inside you before making you come again.”
The hard, cold ice pressed against her, and she couldn’t stop herself from tensing. “It’s too big,” she yelped.
“Relax.” His voice was hard with command, and she obeyed, her body listening to him, ignoring her panicking mind.
The ice cube, edges smoothed by her mouth and skin, forced its way into her, opening her. It was so cold it felt almost hot, and she whimpered as it stretched her. Then finally it slid in, and she could feel the cold lump inside her.
Another ice cube slid over her skin, this time tracing swirling patterns along her bruised ass cheeks before venturing to the valley between. This time when he pressed it against her, she was able to relax and accept it. Shivers worked their way up and down her body. She let her head hang, whimpering only a little as it stretched her before the second ice cube joined the first. She thought she felt them clink together.
“One more,” he assured her gently. “You’re doing so well. You’re taking this beautifully.”
His words warmed her, and she wanted to please him, to take more. To take everything he could give.
The final ice cube he rubbed against the sensitive skin of her stomach. Bending to reach under her, he trailed it from her belly button to breastbone, around each breast, and finally holding it against her nipples. When he straightened and brought the ice cube to her ass, she didn’t resist—instead she pressed back against him, welcoming the sweet, cold burn.
When he was done, he rubbed her anus gently, stimulating the previously unloved nerve endings there. “Well done, my sweet. How do you feel?”
“Full, cold.”
“You can take more, can’t you?”
More what? More ice? It didn’t matter. For him, she would take whatever he wanted to give. Anything he was willing to give. “Yes, Sir.”
He walked away, not to his kit, but to the small bar cart. He took the lid off the ice bucket and plucked out a silver butt plug. When he returned, he pressed it to her lips, letting her feel how cold it was. “The heat of your body will have melted most of the ice, but this will stay cold, and, because it’s a plug, it will stretch you, making sure you feel it.”
He walked around behind her. There was a click, and cool lube drizzled over her before she felt the shockingly cold, blunt tip of the plug. He applied firm pressure, and the plug started to slide in. The taper meant it entered her more easily than the square ice cubes, but it was larger, and as he continued to apply pressure, she felt the sustained burn of being stretched, combined with the cold. Yet she was hot, so hot with need and desire. Her pussy ached, her nipples were hard as diamonds.
“This is the widest part.” He held the plug there, stretching her, and the fact that he would do that, the way he so skillfully and possessively used her, made her even more aroused.
Another push, and the plug was in, her body closing around it. She sighed and relaxed, even as the cold, cold plug made her ass pulse and tingle.
She’d closed her eyes, but opened them when she felt him beside her. He was on one knee, and his gaze was hot. She wanted to lick every inch of bare chest she could see.
He held up a pair of clamps, which she recognized as tweezer clamps. They were silver, with black rubber tips. He lowered the band that held the arms of the clamp closed, then gently placed it on her right nipple. At this setting the pressure was minimal, yet she felt it acutely. He applied the second clamp, and she could feel him watching her. She focused on the sensations coming from the plug, the ice, and the clamps.
He tightened the clamps, and she whimpered.
James brushed his lips along her side, his hot breath trailing over her skin. He bit her shoulder, sinking his teeth in just enough to have her yelping. “If you knew the things I want to do to you…”
“Do them,” she pleaded.
He moved away, and for a moment she thought she’d done something wrong, but then he was behind her. A second later, a vibrator clicked on, and then he was spreading her pussy open, applying the vibrator directly to her clit.
She came. In less than a minute, she was screaming in pleasure, thrashing against her bonds. He held the vibrator in place, one hand tight on her hip. When the orgasm finished, she had her forehead pressed to the table, having dropped to her elbows. She was panting.
James toyed with the plug, tugging and pressing, twisting it in a way that made her acutely aware of how full she felt. “That’s two.”
James let his gaze roam over Christiana’s helpless body. She accepted three rather large ice cubes and a cold plug with ease. That meant she could do more. Take more.
He had plans for this woman. This magnificent, unexpected woman.
The urge to push her, to push both of them, hard and fast, was nearly overwhelming. James walked to the bar cart and plucked another ice cube from the bucket. With ruthless enjoyment, he spread Christiana’s sex open and pressed the ice against her clit. She screeched in shock and then started to whimper softly.
He rubbed the ice over every inch of that lovely sex. The skin on her legs was prickled with goose bumps before he was satisfied. Rising once more, he tugged on the plug. She clenched, holding it in.
He wanted to yank it out, to force her body to yield. Then he wanted to shove more ice into her, to fill her until she was begging for him to stop.
He would do things to her that would ruin her for other men.
James released the plug and took a big step back. He needed to take a minute, to gather himself and find his control. To cage his inner sadist.
Walking around to her head, he slid the ice cube into her mouth. “Suck.”
She looked up at him, mouth slightly open due to the size of the ice cube. He touched her jaw in a gentle caress, using the small contact to reinforce the need to take a short break.
“I will be back in a moment. You have until I return to suck that ice cube down to nothing. No biting.”
She closed her mouth, one cheek bulging slightly from the presence of the ice.
James forced himself to walk away. It was good to practice that, because he only had her for two weeks, and after that he’d walk away.
Still, two weeks was enough time that he could do things to her, show her things, that would ensure she experienced submission and pleasure so acute she would never forget it.
James grabbed his cell phone. There were some things that would be better done elsewhere. Though they weren’t in her home, they were in her home city. That meant there was a level of comfort and familiarity that would temper her actions.
There was a reason the Orchid Club had a new location every month—it stripped away inhibitions and created a heightened sense of vulnerability. Even if the next Orchid Club event were scheduled for some time in the next two weeks, he couldn’t take her there. But that wasn’t his only option.
He would take her to Solomon.
The story concludes in San Francisco Love.
* * *
“Okay, Mr. Nolen, what has you in such a good mood?”
He smiled, and for one wild moment he considered telling her his plans, but he didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Not yet. “Before you lie down, I want your opinion on something.”
She was still looking a little suspicious. He kissed the line between her brows, then used that as a distraction to yank her towel away, leaving her gloriously naked. He grabbed her hips, pulling her damp, naked body against his fully clothed one. She clutched his shoulders, looking up at him with those lovely dark eyes.
“What are you up to, James?”
Still holding her hips, he started walking backward out of the bathroom. “Come downstairs and see.” Her eyes lit with desire, an expression he was very familiar with. He shook his head ruefully. “It’s not that kind of surprise.”
“Oh. Then can I get dressed?”
He stopped near the head of the stairs, letting his gaze wander down her body. “I’d prefer you don’t.”
Her lids lowered. “Okay.” The Sir was unspoken but present—in the tone of her voice, her posture.
He stroked the underside of her chin and her neck.
Soon she would wear his collar.
He had it all planned. He would collar her—not just for a weekend, or for a single event, but semi-permanently.
No. It’s not fair. You shouldn’t do this.
He was using the term semi-permanently, but would she understand? That the collar was only until they tired of one another? Only until he grew bored and restless?
I’ll make sure she understands. I won’t hurt her.
Even in his thoughts, those words rang hollow. Lately he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that first night of the San Francisco event, when he’d watched the older couple enviously. Even then he’d thought to himself that he wanted that—that permanence, that surety. He would have that with Christiana.
A temporary permanence.
Right. You’re an asshole.
Hand in hand, they went downstairs. Christiana shivered slightly—he usually turned the heat up while she napped so the house was a comfortable temperature for naked revelry by the time she got up. When they reached the office, he sat in the chair and pulled her onto his lap. She drew up her knees, tucking her cold toes between the outside of his thigh and the arm of the chair.
He turned so they were facing the screen. “Which one do you think is better?”
She stared at the real estate listings, and she tensed slightly. “You’re buying a place in San Francisco?”
“Yes.”
“What for?” she asked bluntly.
For us. So we have someplace to play.
“Real estate is what I do,” he said smoothly, which wasn’t exactly a lie. He valued honesty, but in this case he wanted it to be a surprise.
