His hand lightly grips my thigh. I look at it, at him, at the last tissue I have in my hand that is covered in both me and him. Neither of us acknowledge it as I toss it into the trash.
“Yes, sir,” I say, eyes downcast. “I’m ready to obey and to accept my punishment.”
Ian wraps an affectionate arm in front of me, pulling me toward his chest. “Don’t be hard on yourself.” His other hand strokes my hair, now tangled around my shoulder. “I’ll let you in on a secret. I enjoyed that as much.”
I hardly doubt that’s a secret, granted how hard he came inside me, but I don’t say anything. I’ve got the collar on, and I’m learning to behave.
I’m ready to behave.
Something frightening is happening. I want to submit. I want to turn him on and make him want me some more. I want to feel what it’s like when Ian Mathers turns me into his personal vessel of copulation. Feel his hands on me. Around me. Inside me.
This whole giving up control business isn’t so bad.
“Tell me what you did wrong,” Ian says, walking to the other side of his bedroom. He opens a closet, which on the surface is full of pressed suits and some shirts to go with them. They’re pushed out of the way so he can rummage for something in the back. “I want to make sure you understand your indiscretions.”
“Well…” I don’t watch what he’s doing. Instead, I curl my legs up to my chest and study his bedspread. Cream-colored. Little swirls in the designs. You’d never guess his family owned a bunch of hotels. “You told me not to come, and then I came anyway. You’re right. I didn’t even try to hold it back. I didn’t care. I felt good and wanted to come, even without your permission.”
“That’s good. What else?”
“I didn’t act with propriety afterward.”
“That’s not really your fault. But you’re right, it was inappropriate.”
He comes back and drops something heavy onto the bed.
Chains.
“Ian… I mean, sir…”
“You can’t be trusted to keep your hands to yourself.” He snaps the attached handcuffs to my wrists and pulls me back. There’s a reason a Dom like him has a headboard with wire poles. Before I know it, I’m immobilized up top.
Down below.
Gloriously down below.
He lifts one leg up, bending me at the knee before clasping another chain around the ankle. The chain attaches to the bed.
Then the other leg.
Man, I can barely fathom it. I’m locked into one of the most erotic positions of my life. My hands above my head. My ankles chained to the same headboard, forcing my legs up and spread. I can’t close them. I can’t move anything.
I can’t respond, aside with my voice and my extremities.
“The more submissive you become, the more irresistible you are.” Ian dusts his hands and pushes the hair out of my face. “How does it feel, being so forcibly exposed?”
I take a deep breath. “I think I like it.”
“You like having your pussy open to me like that?”
No bigger feeling of being exposed, that’s for sure. “Yes, sir.”
“What does it feel like?”
“It feels like it’s ready for you at any moment.” I’m not lying. Even though I cleaned myself up, thereby eliminating much of my own wetness, I’m still so damned aroused. I don’t want this to end. I want Ian to get hard again and slam himself in there.
I’m so open.
So ready.
So tied down and ready to accept whatever he gives me.
It doesn’t matter… because anything he gives me? It’s for me. It’s a part of him. He’s sharing himself as much as I am baring my soul and my fears.
“And…” Ian looks at me, his bemusement at my sudden words too handsome to capture. “My cunt feels really empty.”
He leans down, leaning over me, playing with the ribbons in my corset. One by one they come untied, my breasts spilling from their cups. Ian pinches one nipple and makes me hiss through my teeth. “Cunt, huh? Is that what you want to call it?”
“You can call it whatever you want, sir.”
“Oh, I’ve got lots of names for these things.” His thumb tugs at my opening, my slick folds exposing how wet I still am. The scent is so powerful that I almost turn my nose away. It’s not just me. It’s his scent, too. An intoxicating scent that reminds me of what we’re here to do and accomplish. “Whatever feels good in the moment.”
Ian looks into my eyes as his thumb crushes my clit. I writhe beneath him, a squeal of pleasure emanating from my body.
He pulls his hand back. “Sensitive, is it? Considering how hard you came – when you weren’t supposed to – I am not surprised.” His thumb grinds back into it, and I’m gasping, my body unable to process this sudden stimulation. “Serves you right.”
“I’m sorry,” I whimper. I don’t know if I’m supposed to speak, but I take a chance.
Ian unbuttons his shirt and shrugs out of it, letting it fall to the floor before bending down to kiss my toe wiggling in the air. “Not as sorry as you’re going to be.”
Oh, Lord. I am going to need mercy.
“You only have one command.” Ian climbs onto the bed and settles between my legs, hand covering my mound. “Try to come. It’s not going to be easy.”
I know it’s not. He’s going to deny me as part of my punishment – and to get him hard again.
Sure enough, my torture begins.
Chapter 12
KATHRYN
The man is a stunning expert. He knows how to stroke my clit, to work his fingers around the entrance of my slit until I’m squirming for release. It serves me right. This is what I get for daring to come without permission earlier. Ian is no longer going to go easy on me. I disobeyed. I am training to be his sub, and that means I need to obey to get what I want.
Namely, him.
“If you can come, my darling,” he says with a hint of malice, his finger circling my clit and then backing off as I am about to come, “I will fuck you until you understand that I am the only man in the world.”
He’s still not going to make it easy.
Especially when he looks at me like that, looming over me, half-naked and so perfect. Or at least I think so in my haze of wanting to come all over his hand.
Sometimes his fingers slip inside. I am so wet and spread that it’s nothing for him. Yes, Ian, with his strong and thick fingers, can still disappear inside of me without a bit of resistance. The S word falls off my lips as he finger fucks me, hard enough to make my knees bob up and down near my head. He doesn’t touch my clit until he pulls out his fingers and flicks it.
This is torture. Orgasm continues to build inside of me, but for minutes now I’ve been denied reaching climax. I’m squirming. I’m whining. I’m begging him with my eyes and the bite of my lips to finish the fucking job.
He said that if I came, he would fuck me.
Yet. He. Won’t. Let. Me. Every time I reach the tipping point, his fingers pumping in and out of me with varying speeds and rubbing my sensitive clit, he stops and laughs at my tortured reaction. The more he fucks me with his fingers, the more I hear that melodic sound of my body accepting him, begging him to fill and have his way with me.
I can’t stop trying to come. You’d think I would fall over the edge at some point, but Ian knows – he knows – when exactly to pull out or stop rubbing my clit. It doesn’t help that he’s giving me that smug demeanor I fucking hate so much. He knows what he’s doing to me. He knows how much I want him to claim me again.
He must know how much I want to please him.
“Have you learned your lesson?” Ian keeps his fingers inside of me this time, although they do not move. I look down, my mound gleaming in wetness and his fingers plunged in to the third knuckle. All he has to do is curl them and hit me where it counts… “Do you understand what I want from you from now on?”