“You sound just like Z’s sub. Listen, sweetling, and I’ll tell you again. I know it’s not politically correct, but I like my women soft.” He pulled her closer. “And curvy.” He skimmed a hand over her waist and then teased her breast until she sighed with pleasure. “And responsive. I love your body, little sub.” He pressed a kiss to her fingers.
His women—and she was one of them? The thought made her warm inside.
And he liked her the way she was—God, how awesome was that—someone who looked like him lusted after her body. Tilting her head, she watched him fondle her breasts, his lips curved in a smile, his eyes half-lidded.
She really did have nice breasts, didn’t she?
And if he kept up his attentions, she was going to get all turned on again. How did he do that? She ran her fingers down his neck, tracing along his jaw.
Cupping one breast, he rubbed his thumb over the nipple. “Now tell me”—his voice changed from lazy indulgence to a deeper, firmer timbre—“how did you feel when you were tied and opened for my pleasure?”
Her hand stopped midstroke. Talk about it? He wanted to talk about…that? Men weren’t supposed to be so verbal, were they?
“Shy, little sub? After all that I’ve done to you? I’ve had my fingers buried in your pussy, my mouth on your clit, my cock rammed inside you. If you can let me do that, surely you can talk to me.”
Heat seared her cheeks, and he chuckled. “Did being tied up scare you?”
She nodded, turned to hide her face in his shoulder.
He rose on one elbow. Grasping her shoulder, he pressed her flat, securing her even further with a leg across her hips. “You don’t hide your feelings from yourself or from me. Tell me how you felt when you were tied up.”
“Vulnerable,” she whispered. “Like I couldn’t help what you were going to do.”
“And it aroused you even more.” His hand played with her breasts, circling the tightening nipples. “Kari? Did being so securely restrained arouse you? Did you like it?” He pinched one nipple, a tiny flash of pain-pleasure.
“Yes.” She looked away from him, her face hot. “Yes, darn it.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Sir. I liked it.”
“Brave girl.” He kissed her gently, nibbling on her lips. “It’s not easy to admit enjoying something so different from what our mamas said we should enjoy. Why they think everyone should be alike in making love when no one can even agree on what ice cream they like, I’ll never know.”
He rose, disappearing into the tiny bathroom in the corner. When he returned, he brought back a warm washcloth. Standing beside the bed, he wiped the sweat from her face.
“Thank you. That feels good.” It also felt strange to have this giant guy being so nurturing. Especially since his leathers were still open and displaying everything.
He put his knee on the bed and leaned forward. What was he…? He parted her thighs, stroking between them to clean her…there.
Blushing furiously, she tried to close her legs. “I can do that.”
“I enjoy doing this sometimes.” His knee settled on her ankle to keep her legs apart. He was very thorough. She was squirming and everything down there tingled before he was done.
As he walked into the bathroom, the leathers molded to him, showing every hard curve of his butt and thighs.
She pushed herself up and sat on the side of the bed, her head whirling. How very different this was from anything she’d done before. His control of her was what she’d wanted, and so far past what she’d expected that it scared her. Had she really begged? Screamed? Come over and over?
He returned with another warm washcloth and handed it to her. “Since you feel left out, you can join in. Wash me, Kari.” He stood in front of her, totally unselfconscious, totally gorgeous, his sex framed in the V of the opened front.
Wash him. She could do that. Would even enjoy doing that. Kneeling on the bed, she started with his testicles, so soft, so heavy in her hands. When done, she moved forward. His penis, even nonerect and wrinkly, was still huge. Thick. And under her fingers and the washcloth, it started to grow.
“Your hands feel good on me, little sub,” he said. He lifted her chin and gazed down into her eyes, and his voice changed, deepened and hardened, much like his penis was hardening in her hand. “Put your mouth on me now.” His master voice. “What do you say to me?”
He wanted her to—well, okay—she’d done it before. In bed. In the dark. He’d be able to see her. Watch her. Oh God.
She licked her lips. “Yes, Sir.”
She dropped the washcloth onto the floor and then took his penis into her hands. Even as she held it, it hardened, lengthened. Wow.
“See what just your hands can do to me?” he murmured. “My body wants yours. My cock wants those sweet lips around it, your mouth sucking on it.”
The thought was empowering. Exciting. Hauling in a breath, she licked up his erection like an ice-cream cone, letting her tongue trace the big veins running along the outside. The skin was all softness wrapped over an iron bar. She slid her lips over the velvety-soft head. He growled in pleasure when her tongue swirled around its edge, so she concentrated there for a while. Then she moved on, trying stuff, seeing what reactions she could get.
When she sucked all of him into her mouth, his breath stopped.
Her tongue up the underside of his penis made his stomach muscles jerk.
He stroked her hair. “You are very good at this, sweetie.
Pride surged through her. Sex. She could do it.
He murmured, “Tighten your lips just a little—no teeth, please. Now, up and down, fast, and hard.”
She did, and did it darned well, she knew, as his hand closed convulsively in her hair.
“Damn, but you have a wonderful mouth.” A minute later, he said, “Stop now.”
She looked up at him in surprise. He smiled down at her, traced her wet lips with his finger. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ll finish later. For now, it’s time to return downstairs. Master Z asked a few of the regulars in to demonstrate the equipment. Of course, compared to a normal bondage night, the scenes will be relatively mild.”
She nodded.
“Go use the bathroom while I pick out your clothes.”
Him pick out her clothing? No way. She’d seen pictures of what people wore in fetish clubs. “No. I have clothes here, and I’ll—” At the sight of his darkening eyes, she stopped, closed her mouth. Too late. She’d seen that look on his face with Sally, with herself.
“Little sub, you have exceeded my patience. Five swats.” Gripping her wrists, he pulled her off the bed and took her place. He didn’t release her. “Bend over my knees.”
She tried to back away and got nowhere. “No.” She shook her head frantically, her heart starting to hammer in her chest.
“No?” He lifted his brows in surprise. “Seven swats.” His mouth set in a straight line, and the humor and gentleness disappeared from his face.
“Sir, please. No. You can’t.”
“I can. Ten.”
No. She didn’t resist—much—as he positioned her beside his knees. His grip unyielding, he laid her across his lap until her top half dangled on one side, her legs on the other. Her head spun, and she gasped. This wasn’t happening, couldn’t be—
“Farther, little sub,” he said and shifted her until her bottom stuck up in the air. One of his legs pinned hers, and his left hand pressed her shoulders down. Trying to squirm, she realized she couldn’t.
She felt his warm hand on her bare bottom, massaging, stroking. This wasn’t a spanking, she thought, confusion running through her as her skin grew more sensitive to his touch. She felt the reawakening of desire.
And then he spanked her.
The first slap stung, and she jolted in disbelief. “No!” She wiggled, trying to escape.
He held her in place easily. “One.”
Another slap. The sound echoed in the room as she jerked, the burning on her bottom intense and painful. “Two.”
The third and fourth came almost together, hard and fast. Then slower, alternating cheeks. By eight, tears dripped from her eyes.
“Ten. There, little sub, all done.” He didn’t release her as he stroked her stinging cheeks. His hand was cool against the heat, bringing pain—and unexpected pleasure.
She lay limp, head hanging down, letting him pet her. Soothing her, she thought.
Slowly the strokes became longer. His hand cupped her cheeks, delving between her buttocks. One finger slid down into the crack, then farther, and animal hunger roused within her.
“Wa—” She clamped her mouth tight, her hands fisting in the carpet.
“You’re learning, little sub, you’re learning.” He sounded infuriatingly amused.
Then he slid her legs apart, opening her to his touch, and his fingers moved through her tender, sensitive folds, swirling over her clitoris. His fingers slid easily—she was very wet—awakening every nerve ending to a burning arousal.
She moaned. The stinging pain of her bottom somehow increased the need flaring in her.
As she squirmed under the onslaught, he chuckled and, pinning her hips with one hand, plunged two fingers inside her.
