Surrender: Guilty Pleasures #1 (BBW Erotic Romance) (7 page)

I heard Jake exhale on the other
end of the line. “I want you to come tomorrow for a session.” His voice had
changed, had that edge to it; Jake the dominant had taken over the
conversation.

“You’ll need to wear clothes that
are easy to remove. Nothing fancy. Please be showered, your hair tied back. Eat
something before the session. I don’t want you to get hungry if this runs long
and I don’t want you to feel faint or weak.”

I closed my eyes.
Feel faint?
What the heck?

“I know this seems like a set of
rules, but I want you to be comfortable and safe. I have no idea where this is
going to go. This may sound like over-kill, but I’d rather this be well thought
out ahead of time.”

I nodded my head. “I understand.
It’s just…well, so clinical.”

There was a beat of silence. “Abby,
I need things to be like this…we need things to be like this. Trust me.”

Now it was my turn to be silent.
“You’re right. It’s fine. It’s new for me, for both of us.”

“Yes, it is.” His voice softened.
“It’s all new, Abby. But you’re the one I want to explore this with, and I want
to be the one to help you explore your limits. I still think we’re going to be
good for each other. We just need to go slow, keep talking and relax.”

I smiled. “I know. It’s all
good.”

We ended the call. I sat down on
the couch, going over our conversation, images of last night rising up in my
mind; Jake’s hands on my body, the first glimpse of his cock as he’d unbuttoned
his jeans, displaying himself for me.

I was getting all hot and
bothered, remembering every detail.
This is no good.

I settled back, looking out the
windows on the skyline of Houston. Something poked me in the thigh. Reaching
down, I fished a book out of the couch;
50 Shades.

“I really need to put you on a
bookshelf, you know?” The book didn’t reply, but my cat did, jumping up,
seeking attention. I scratched his head, thinking about castles and princesses
in distress and knights in shining armor coming to the rescue.

But in this case, I had the
nagging sense I wasn’t the one needing rescue.

***

“We’ll need a safe word. You know
what a safe word is?”

We were in the tower room, now
transformed into Jake’s version of a session room. There was a large bed at one
end of the room, set away from one wall, a lovely Jacobean monstrosity, carved
and ancient looking, currently sporting a fitted black sheet, but no pillows.
There was a large cabinet, which matched the bed, set between two windows,
which matched the bed. The heavy deep garnet-colored curtains were pulled shut.
The room was lit by fixtures set between the windows, along with some indirect
lighting in the ceiling. The overall effect really was of a tower room in a
castle.
And it’s the only room so far that’s actually square.

True to his word, this whole
event was removed from his “other” life. I’d been instructed to park beneath
the portico again, but today Jake had greeted me from the other side of the
drive, through a large door set beneath the tower room. He’d taken me up a
narrow stair to a separate entrance from the big door we’d used on Friday. He
pointed out a small bathroom I could use, complete with a robe I could wear.

I nodded my head. “Yes. If I feel
uncomfortable or…unsafe, I say that word. I don’t say ‘no’ or ‘stop’ or anything
else. I say whatever word we’ve decided on.” My mind kept getting hung up on
the word unsafe.

He smiled. “Yes. The word is
usually something totally unrelated to anything we’re doing, so there’s no
confusion. Your safe word is ‘pineapple’.

Despite the seriousness of his
tone, I giggled. Jake lifted an eyebrow at me.

“It’s a good safe word. I’m
allergic to pineapple.”

He smiled. “Okay. Just remember
it.” The smile faded and he grew serious.

“Are you ready to start, Abby?
From this point on, you don’t ask questions. We…I don’t stop, unless you use
the safe word.” His eyes locked with mine. “Do you understand?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

With a detached sense of calm, I
began following Jake’s directions. I’d arrived in jeans and a t-shirt, for a time
feeling woefully underdress for a date.
But this isn’t a date, remember
that.

In the bathroom, I removed my
shirt and bra, sliding my jeans off, hanging them on hooks in the bathroom. I’d
left my panties at home, after a long debate, finally deciding they’d just be
something I’d probably lose. I slipped into the robe, feeling an odd sort of
comfort in the familiar garment.

Jake was dressed in just a pair
of loose gray cotton sweats, again hanging low on his narrow hips, clearly
outlining the taut curves of his ass. Those sweats left little to the
imagination and I wondered how I was supposed to go through a session of any
kind, knowing what he possessed, having it covered by only a thin layer of
cotton.

Jake had his back to me when I
came back to the tower room.

“You can hang the robe on the
back of the door,” he said over his shoulder. I slid the robe off my body,
hanging it on a hook.

He was standing at the cabinet,
the doors now open, the only sounds the soft clink of something metal, the
whisper of his bare feet over the rugs. I stood silently, waiting for his next
direction.

He turned, saw me, and drew in a
sharp breath. His eyes flicked over my body, then traveled up to meet mine. For
an instant, that look I’d come to recognize as lust was there, unguarded and
intense. It made my heart thump and my skin flush, set off a low jolt deep
inside me.

And there was something else,
that unreadable look I’d seen before, fleeting, something he fought hard now to
get under control. In that brief instant, I got a glimpse somewhere deep inside
Jake, an instant of naked, vulnerable emotion; a scary emotion.  It was
something almost like love.
You’re projecting, girl. Back it up here.

But then he was walking toward
me, a pair of silver handcuffs in his hands, long silver chains brushing
against his long legs, his eyes hooded, the look gone.

He stopped in front of me. I
could smell his scent; clean skin and beneath that, something rich and
masculine.

“Come with me.” He walked to the
bed, snapping the cuffs to the posts at the foot of the bed, the chains coiled
like silver snakes.

“On your back, please.”

I climbed up on the bed. The
mattress was on the hard side, but not uncomfortable, the sheet stretched taut,
soft and silky on my skin.
Must be high thread count.
I mentally shook
my head at the errant thought.

Jake held up one cuff, the metal
catching the light. “One cuff is attached to each corner of the bed. The other
end will be attached to your ankles. Your wrists will be held together above
your head by a single set of cuffs.” He pulled one cuff toward my foot, the
silver chain spiraling out across the sheet, whispers of sound as the links
clicked together.

“You will have enough chain to
bend your knees a little, but that’s all.”

The cold metal snapped around my left
ankle. I flinched. Jake raised his eyes to mine, an unspoken question there. I
nodded my head.

“I’m fine.” My heart was
fluttering in an unexpected, but not totally unwelcomed, way. I licked my lips.
“Go ahead.”

Jake attached the other cuff to
my right ankle, had me lay flat on my back and gently raise my arms over my
head, fastening the cold metal around each wrist. Somewhere behind me I heard
the sound of chain sliding against metal and then my arms were pulled above my
head.

I gave an experimental tug
against the restraints at my head; I was held fast. My ankle restraints gave me
enough freedom to pull my knees up slightly. There was a moment of breathless
panic, complete and total; I was alone, naked and chained to a bed in a
stranger’s house.

Jake came back into my field of
vision, and the panic faded. He stood by the side of the bed, looking down in a
rather detached way, I thought. I turned my head; my eyes sliding down his
smooth naked chest, past his taut navel, lower still. I saw that not all of him
was viewing this in such a dispassionate manner.

There was an unmistakable, and
quite arousing, bulge at the apex of his thighs, his growing erection pushing
easily against the thin material of his sweats, lifting the fabric out in front
of his body. I wondered how I was going to handle whatever he was going to do
to me while watching his physical reactions. Just seeing his cloth-covered
erection had started a tingle in my body; tingle wasn’t the right word. It was
an all-out throbbing between my legs.

Jake looked down at me, a hint of
smile playing about the corners of his mouth, almost cruel looking. As if
reading my mind, he pulled a piece of black silk out of his pocket.

“Lift your head.”

I raised my head from the
mattress and with infinite care Jake blindfolded me. I felt his fingers brush
my temples as my world went dark. I sensed his body over mine, his heat and
scent very close for a moment. There was a brief tug and the blindfold was
snugged over my eyes.

“Is that too tight?” His voice
was low, not as close as I wanted it to be.

There was a dry clicking in my
throat when I tried to talk, so I shook my head.

“Again, safe word?”

“Pineapple.” I managed to croak
out the word.

“Good. I’m ready to start.

Time seemed to spin out forever
as I lay there, briefly interested in the lights behind my eyes. But my ears
quickly became attuned to every sound in the room. It was very quiet, almost
too quiet. The panic tried to push its way back; logic said I had not heard the
door open or close, so Jake was still in the room. Was he watching me? Was he
getting ready to do something?

My breath was coming in short
gasps, my heart beating fast. I was on the verge of calling his name when I
felt movement and a soft rush of cool air against my skin, sliding down my
right side. I turned my head, breathing deeply, sniffing the air, trying to
catch Jake’s scent.

There was a brief noise at the
foot of the bed and then a subtle pressure on the mattress. The pressure
increased; Jake must have climbed on the bed between my feet. My legs tensed; I
tried to pull away and move toward him at the same time. I wanted something to
happen but I was afraid of what that something might be.

Suddenly there was a light touch
along the inside of my inner thigh, along the same area that Jake had touched
with his hands before, that same erogenous zone I never knew existed until
then. I jerked even though the touch was so soft I thought I might have
imagined it. But it returned, this time on the other leg, something brushing
against my skin, sending shivers through my body.

It’s a feather.
I had the
insane urge to call out what I thought it was.

The stroking continued,
increasing in intensity and speed, moving higher up my thighs. The muscles in
my legs were tensing and relaxing, moving in concert with the stroking of the
feather, my hips flexing upward with each stroke. I could feel arousal growing
between my legs, a subtle throbbing deep inside.

Suddenly the stroking stopped. My
legs kept moving for a moment, seeking contact with something I couldn’t see.
There was a long pause, then movement, a shifting of weight between my legs and
the right side of the mattress depressed slightly.

A slight breeze floated over my
skin and then there were quick flicks of something across the nipple of one
breast. I yelped in surprise as I felt that nipple contract and harden,
immediately sensitive. The flicking then moved to the other nipple, with the
same result. I could feel Jake’s warm breath on my arms as he moved between my
breasts for several minutes, teasing each nipple repeatedly.

And then it stopped.

I held my breath, waiting, trying
to imagine where he’d touch me again. I felt warmth on my breasts and then Jake’s
lips were on my nipple, the flick of the feather replaced by the flick of his
warm tongue. I cried out, lifting my head from the mattress, straining against
my chains as he circled my hard nipple with his tongue.

He moved to the other nipple and
I felt a wave of warmth flood through me, a curious feeling of tensing up and
letting go at the same time.

This particular delicious torture
went on for many minutes as he moved between my nipples, never doing more than
flicking his tongue across them. I was pulling against my chains now in
earnest, arching my back, seeking more contact with his mouth.

And then he was gone.

I cried out in despair, my body
thrumming, suspended, aching for more. The cool air on my wet nipples made them
contract painfully and I was helpless to keep quiet, driven by desire to speak.

“Please don’t stop. Jake, please…”

I thought I heard a sharp intake
of breath, but I couldn’t be sure. It was a long time before I felt any
movement on the bed, just a subtle shifting of weight.

When the feather finally came
back it moved across my upper thighs, lightly stroking from hip to hip. It
circled down between my legs, brushing the crease along my inner thigh, sliding
dangerously close to my clit and then skittering away. It reappeared where it
started, repeating this path, over and over.

My hips were writhing on the bed
now, rising up, playing tag with the feather. It circled back between my legs
once again, but this time it stayed, tracing the outer edges of my pussy,
flicking over my clit.

I was moaning now, my body
craving more contact. The feather continued for a moment, flicking back and
forth, tickling and teasing.

And then even that was gone.

The shifting between my legs was
more pronounced now. I felt Jake’s warm breath on my legs and the first flick
of his tongue against my clit sent a shudder coursing through my body.
Finally,
oh, god…finally.