Dominance and Deception (18 page)

"But you're—” I bit down on the rest of the sentence—I was already in enough trouble.

Amused, he tugged a lock of my hair. “Go on."

Sighing, I stared at his shoulder, unable to meet his eyes. “Too stubborn to safe word, Sir."

Pierce shrugged. “Too stubborn to submit, as well—but I did."

"I made you do it."

"And I'm responsible for my own choices."

He fixed me with a gaze that was as much an order for me to stop being so hard on myself as concerned affection.

"When you submit to me, who do you hold more responsible for keeping tabs on your mental state—me, or you?"

I wanted to protest, but decided to play along for now.

"Me."

"And do you expect me to stop before you safe word when you're in two minds about a scene?"

Two minds? But that would mean...

"No,” I said softly. “When you say ‘two minds'—"

He ignored me, putting a finger to my lips.

"Then what do you expect from me in a scene, safety-wise?"

"To know how to use the equipment safely. To be sober and calm. Not to do me permanent damage. To stop when I safe word or when you think I can't take it.” The list fell effortlessly from my lips—our roles were well-defined.

"And did you at any point think you were going to do me permanent damage, or that I couldn't take it?” he asked, running his fingers through my hair.

That moment flashed through my mind again.

"For a second,” I confessed, biting my lip. “Right before you gave in. I shoulda backed down, Sir.
Before
you got that angry."

"Because, of course, you're psychic and you knew I would get to that point,” Pierce said dryly. “You were being punished for putting me in that situation, little tease, not for being a bad Domme. And if you doubt that, I suggest you call Santoro and see if he has any complaints."

I might have been a little insecure right then, but I knew my scenes with Santoro had been well within his limits. With a long look at Pierce to make sure he really didn't hold me responsible, I let him guide me back into my previous position on the bed and resume cleaning the ink from my skin.

* * * *

Finally, Pierce dropped the sponge into the bowl of now-murky water and dried his hands, then helped me to sit up. I tilted my head to meet his lips, smiling a little as he kissed my nose instead.

"How're you feeling, little tease?” He watched me carefully, and I shrugged, knowing it was futile to lie to him.

"Wrung out, Sir.” It seemed to be the best description—like every droplet of overconfidence had been twisted and squeezed from my body. Subdued, I sat quietly, staring at my hands and waiting for Pierce's reaction.

He brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes, his touch gentle. “Hey."

I looked up at him, and he held my gaze, captivating me. “Why are you having such a tough time letting this one go?"

"I...” It was a good question. Usually when a punishment was over I felt absolved of my transgressions. It took me a couple of seconds to pin down the correct response.

"I guess it's because I enjoyed it. I mean, I know I shouldn't have done it, and I won't again, but I loved..."

I trailed off, not wanting to dig myself into a deeper hole. Better not to admit how much I'd enjoyed watching him lose control, hearing him beg for release.

"I feel bad because... When I think of that night, only a small part of me regrets it. And I know that will disappoint you."

"Ah...” Pierce murmured to himself, nodding. A slight smile pulled at the corners of his lips, and I gave an internal sigh of relief that he hadn't taken the admission badly.

Motioning for me to get comfortable on the bed, he stretched out beside me and drew me close. I rested my head on his chest, soothed by the steady beat of his heart and the rhythmic movements of his fingers stroking through my hair.

After a couple of minutes, he began to speak. “No one knows better than you that I'm not submissive by nature. Can't stand feeling helpless. Hate giving up control of a situation."

I must have tensed up a little, because he kissed the top of my head reassuringly.

"Relax, Faye. Punishment's over."

Biting my lip, I nodded and waited for him to continue. He didn't open up like this often, and I was always curious to know what went on in his mind.

"I had a safe word that night. Should've used it right from the start, before you began the scene. But I was too proud to go back on my word, so I let you go ahead. It was... irresponsible of me."

Surprised, I lifted my head to stare at him. This was as close to an apology as Pierce got, and it didn't happen often.

"I shouldn't have suggested it."

"Oh, I didn't say you were blameless,” he told me, arching an eyebrow, and I grinned, dropping my head onto his chest again. “You're right. You shouldn't have. But we've taken care of that, and it won't happen again."

It made me wistful to hear the words, but I knew where the line lay, and I knew not to cross it again.

"I didn't expect to get out of my depth. I knew you were good with Santoro, but I never thought you could take me to the same level. But you did, and you were careful and considerate."

I frowned up at him, confused. “But you looked like you were gonna break. I mean—"

He kissed me gently, silencing me. “And I gave in to you because you knew that. Because you were ready to step back if you needed to."

A glow of pride warmed me, and I curled a little closer to him. “So what you're saying is—"

"Don't feel bad that you enjoyed it, because you weren't the only one."

I exhaled slowly, and it seemed as though the remaining guilt I'd been hanging on to was expelled from my chest with my breath. Feeling lighter, I cast a playful glance at Pierce.

"Oh,
really
?"

Laughing under his breath, he reached over to the nightstand and picked up the pen he'd used to write on me before.

"Really."

Uncapping the pen, he wrote a new word on my left arm, where the word
insolent
had been before he'd washed it away.

"This is for asking for my safe word."

Responsible
, my skin now read, and I realised I could get to like this new game of Describe-the-Tease.

"This is for the outfit you were wearing..."

Breathtaking
replaced
arrogant
. I had kinda rocked the stockings-and-heels look, it was true...

"For managing to keep the attitude up the whole way through,” he told me, a smile playing about his lips.

Where he'd written
brat
an hour ago, he now scrawled
focussed
.

"For contrasting pain and pleasure."

Bitch
became
balanced.

"For the aftercare..."

Affectionate
, he wrote over the ghost of the word
harlot
, and I smiled a little, remembering his assertion that he couldn't think straight. I loved it when my Sir let himself be vulnerable around me.

"For watching for warning signs,” he told me, writing
cautious
just below
affectionate
, on skin that he previously hadn't marked. He obviously had a plan for the rest of our little labelling session, and he was getting the reassurances out of the way before he went for the rest.

"For letting me taste you..."

He replaced
cocktease
with
hedonist
.

Gotta agree with that one.

"For giving me permission to taunt you.” Somehow I'd known he'd appreciate that one.

Watching him substitute the word
generous
for his earlier assessment,
greedy
, I gave a tiny shiver, remembering the way he'd used the opportunity to remind me of my place.

"For giving me an amazing show while you touched yourself...” I blushed, just a little, when he raised an eyebrow at me.

Seductress
was definitely a more complimentary word than
slut
, though the way I remembered it, it had been more slutty than seductive.

"For giving me head very,
very
capably..."

Whore
became
skilful
. With every word he wrote, he turned me on more, calling each memory back to the forefront of my mind. He'd been so frustrated, so desperate for me to finish him off...

Pierce tapped the end of the pen against the skin of my lower abdomen, where he'd made me write his final word. I couldn't help it—every time I remembered him breathing it against my lips, I went to a decidedly X-rated place.

"You remember what was written here, don't you?” he asked, his voice soft.

"Yes, Sir,” I whispered, trying not to writhe against the bed.

"Does it get you wet, little tease?"

Oh, god, he was really enjoying this... Feeling a little self-conscious, I nodded.

"Hmm. A new fetish to add to the list, huh?"

It affected me so much—partly because it had been so out of character for Pierce to use it, but mostly because I knew he'd been out of his mind with sexual frustration when he'd said it. Just remembering the way he'd chosen to use it a second time for its effect on me, right when I was ready to come, made me so hot and wet for him I could hardly stand it.

With a tiny whimper of pleasure, I watched him ink the exact same word onto my skin, bold and clear.

Cunt

Once he had, he set the pen down and got up from the bed.

"Wanna guess what that one's for?"

It was an effort to get my thoughts straight.

"For making you come, Sir?"

Shaking his head, he turned to the drawer where he kept his restraints.

"I haven't dealt with that one yet. Try again."

I thought about it, and when I remembered his appreciative expression, the truth slotted into place.

"For loving that I made you say it, Sir."

I could sense his approval when he returned to the side of the bed with my wrist cuffs. He held them up in my line of sight, giving me a couple of seconds to safe word, and I kept silent, reassuring him I wanted him to use them.

Nodding slightly, he motioned for me to sit up, then fastened a leather strip around each of my wrists. Clipping them together behind my neck, he spoke again. “Good call, little tease. Are you smart enough to figure out why I'm done with the pen?"

He already knew I knew the answer—he just wanted to make me say it.

"Because you want revenge, Sir."

"I do. And writing on you isn't the revenge I had in mind. You know the saying ‘an eye for an eye'? Seems appropriate here, don't you think?"

Tugging me so I sat on the edge of the bed with my feet on the floor, Pierce helped me to lean back into a horizontal position, with my hands still secured behind my neck. Before he'd even settled on the floor between my legs, his breath lightly tickling my inner thighs, my brain made the connection—he was planning on drawing this out for a while.

Pierce began by softly kissing my inner thighs, travelling upwards with painstaking slowness and switching from one leg to the other as he neared his destination. Without thinking, I tested the restraints around my wrists, giving a tiny, conflicted whimper when I found them secure. On one hand I was happy to be tied, but on the other, I knew I'd be cursing it by the time he was halfway through.

He rained kisses over the area between my navel and my clit, deliberately veering off course to nuzzle my hipbone before returning. By the time he gently pressed his lips where I wanted them, I was biting back a torrent of pleas, and one escaped when he trailed off after a few seconds.

With a soft laugh, he ran a finger between my legs, gathering moisture along the way before moving to rest his fingertip at my entrance. Aching for him, I tilted my hips, moaning appreciatively as he pushed a little way into me.

"Sir..."

He curled his finger briefly up against my sweet spot before pulling away entirely, but I forgot the momentary disappointment when he leaned in to taste me. He began an unhurried reclaiming of the area with his tongue, driving me to distraction with every flick against my clit, gradually nudging me closer and closer to oblivion...

I squeezed my eyes shut, pulling at my wrist cuffs, then twisting my hands into my hair and trying to ready myself for what I knew was coming. When he added his fingers to the game, though, my body's instincts took over and my muscles coiled tighter by the second, my breath seizing in desperate gasps.

By the time he started to make good on his threat for revenge, I'd forgotten his intention, writhing and pushing against his fingers and tongue, all my focus on the release I knew was fast approaching—

Oh God,
oh God, oh fuck, what?

Completely disorientated by the sudden absence of Pierce's touch, I whimpered a protest. He was standing over me, obviously turned on but holding back for the sake of the scene. The slight smile on his face was the perfect final touch to the intensity of his gaze, and my trembling, aching body cried out for him in sync with my racing pulse.

"Yeah, you're looking real dominant there, little tease,” he said dryly, and the Domme within me narrowed her eyes in response, even though I was completely at his mercy.

He saw it, and raised an eyebrow in a challenge. “You wanna put me in my place, you have five seconds."

I couldn't even sit up unaided, and he knew it. Even if I could have, I wasn't stupid enough to try, after the past hour's punishment. Once the seconds had ticked past, he roughly pulled me to my feet, then down onto my knees on the floor. He turned dismissively and walked from the room, leaving me like that without explanation or apology. And the submissive within me rejoiced and despaired at the same time.

I knew he expected me to stay put, but I couldn't stay in this position—I felt too exposed for comfort, a guitar string that had been plucked and left to vibrate. Keeping my bound hands behind my neck, I leant forward so my head and elbows touched the floor, taking slow, deep breaths to try to calm the unfulfilled desire within me.

I was a little calmer when I heard Pierce return, and as he tapped the top of my head, signalling for me to uncurl, I sat upright again. He crouched beside me, offering me a glass of water complete with a drinking straw.

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