Every muscle in Brock’s body stiffened as if she’d zapped him with a bolt of electricity. “Don’t.” The word practically came out on a snarl. “Don’t you dare use
that
word with me unless you mean it.”
Unease slithered along her spine. “Yes Sir. I’m sorry.”
“To me, Master is an intimate term, one that signifies a greater commitment, and until you’re ready to commit to me and the lifestyle fully, don’t you dare use it. Are we clear?”
She nodded. “Very clear, Sir. I’m sorry.”
“Good.” He withdrew his fingers from her channel. “Now let’s go.”
* * * * *
Brock took his time securing Viv to the bed.
Anger made his hands shake. Damned Stephen. The bastard knew well he’d never told Viv what Eugene had asked of him. It was a secret he’d planned to take to his grave—at least he had until he and Viv had become lovers.
But now?
Hell, he didn’t know. Honesty meant a lot to his sub, understandable after a marriage filled with lies. But how did he tell the woman he loved something like that? Would the revelation freak her out? Would it make her see everything about their time together during her chemo in a different light? Would it drive a wedge between them so great it might stay buried forever?
Would it?
As he fastened the last shackle around Viv’s ankle, he pushed the questions from his mind. He could ponder them for the next century, but staring at a nude, spread-eagle Vivian was neither the time nor the place for such thoughts.
His spectacular little sub lay tits-up on one of the black four-poster beds that sat in every dungeon. The fourteen-gauge steel bedframe made for perfect BDSM play. The frame went from sleek elegance to dungeon masterpiece in a heartbeat. He had this same bed at home too.
Metal shackles held Viv completely open to him. In addition to the restraints, a swing suspended her six inches over the mattress. He liked his subs suspended. Separation from the mattress itself made every fantastic feminine aspect accessible to him.
Her large breasts heaved with each breath she raked in. A less experienced Dom might mistake her reaction for fear, but he was far from inexperienced. One quick glance at her pussy betrayed how aroused she was. Drops of honeyed moisture clung to the hairs surrounding her slit—and he hadn’t touched her since bringing her here.
He slid two fingers deep into her cunt. Sweet Vivian. His sub, his fantasy shackled open to him, a fantasy he’d long ago given up on.
“Brock,” she moaned. “Sir…”
He pressed the digits of his free hand to her mouth. “What did I tell you about speaking, little sub?”
“Not to speak, Sir. To pretend like I’m gagged.”
He pushed deeper into her body. “If we were further along in our relationship, you
would
be gagged, but as you’re still getting acquainted to the lifestyle, I decided to hold off this time. I’m very good at reading my subs, but I want you free to use your safe word if you need to.” He twisted his fingers inside her. “What
is
your safe word, pet?” he asked yet again. Safe words couldn’t be stressed enough with newbies. Case in point, she hadn’t used her safe word earlier. She’d just freaked out.
“Red, Sir.” Every muscle in her legs tensed, as if she were trying to find a way to rock her hips against his invasion, but the way he had her bound made it difficult—if not impossible—for her to do much of anything except lie there and be played with, which was fine by him.
“Very good, little sub. Now no more speaking. I need to get to work. There’s so much I’ve imagined doing to you.” And as a result of his erotic test downstairs, he knew the ideas she found arousing were limitless, even if she’d never admit to some of them.
But a pussy never lied.
Keeping his fingers wedged in her heat, he looked to the table beside him. The surface brimmed with erotic creams, clamps and about anything else his BDSM heart might desire, but what to use on her first?
“Hmm.” He looked back to the primed body at his fingertips. Her quivering breasts immediately drew his attention. Hard to miss mounds so un-proportional to her petite frame.
He pinched the nipple nearest him, rolled the peak between his thumb and forefinger until it hardened. “Your body’s so responsive, pet. Do you have any idea how much of a turn-on that is for a Dom?”
She moaned, but as commanded, didn’t verbalize a response.
A smile tugged at his lips. What a good little sub. “I wonder if your nipples would still be this responsive if I put clamps on them. Want to find out?”
Her pussy gushed around his fingers.
“Well, that’s a yes if I’ve ever felt one.” But which clamp did he want to use?
He glanced back to the table. There certainly were plenty to choose from, but for her first foray into clamps, he’d go with an adjustable one. That way he could control the pressure, give her enough to enhance her arousal but not enough to cause her pain. He didn’t want her oversensitized on their first outing. But the adjustable clamps had one big drawback. He’d have to extricate his fingers from her pussy to control them.
What a fucking shame.
He withdrew slowly, watching her face for every changing nuance. And smiled. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, your pussy won’t be empty for long.”
The corners of her lips tipped up but she remained silent.
He slathered her own honeyed moisture over her nipple. “There we go. A little icing for me.” He took his time licking off every last remnant of her juices, enjoying the hell out of every second too. Her moans. Her increased breath. The way she fought against her restraints.
But eventually he pulled back. He had some clamps to get into place after all.
He gave her taut peak one last kiss then positioned the clamp. He studied her face as he tightened it. The way her forehead crinkled, the way her lips stretched into a tight line, the way—
She sucked in a sharp breath.
“Looks like I just found your sweet spot,” he murmured, loosening the clamp a smidge then repeating the process on the other side. “There we go. Not bad, is it, pet?”
She shook her head.
Smiling, he grabbed a leather riding crop from his prep table. He opened his mouth to tell her what he was about to do but, at the last second, he held back. He wanted to see her surprised reaction when the soft leather of the crop touched her skin.
Gently, teasingly, he pressed the crop to her inner thigh.
Tap.
She tensed when the soft leather contacted her skin but immediately relaxed.
Tap.
The leather hit again, only slightly harder. “Striking the skin causes blood to rush to the surface, and when there’s increased blood flow to the surface, sensations are heightened.” He feathered the flat surface over her mons. “No matter what area’s struck.”
Tap.
The leather hit against her pussy lips, one gentle tap, then harder and harder until—
His sub jumped. Her forehead bunched together, harsh lines telling him he’d gone as far as he could go.
This time.
“Oh sweet pet, did that sting?”
She nodded.
“Well, let me see what I can do to ease that pain.” He knelt on the bed, right between her splayed legs. “Or maybe make it worse.”
He dipped the middle finger of his right hand into the white clit cream on the prep table, and with the thumb and index fingers of his opposite hand, peeled her lips apart. Arousal had already engorged her clit, the mound so taut it looked as if it would pop at any moment.
“Has anyone ever told you how fucking beautiful your pussy is?”
He regretted the words the second they left his mouth. He damn well knew the answer to that stupid question. Absolutely not.
“Anyone” was his brother.
But he pushed his remorse aside as she shook her head. “Well it is, little sub. Especially when you’re aroused. It’s all red and juicy. Kinda like an apple, which just so happens to be something else I enjoy eating.”
Her inner muscles constricted at his words, forcing moisture from her cunt. Her response to his words sent blood pouring into his cock.
Sweat broke out on his forehead. His hands shook. If he didn’t push things along a little faster, tonight’s foray into the slightly more extreme side of erotic control would come to an abrupt halt. Not that him taking her with passionate fury would be a bad thing, but tonight was about letting
her
experience new things, pushing
her
boundaries, not seeing how fast he could make them both come.
He slathered the clit cream on her bud—then blew on the mound.
“Mmm.” Her legs jerked within the confines of her restraints. Her body arched. None of which made him blow any less on her clit.
“Do you like that, pet?”
More groaning.
More blowing.
He alternated quick gusts with gentle flicks of his tongue. Over and over, one after the other, he didn’t stop. He tortured that sweet clit until Viv shook with the need for release. Only then did he finally make contact.
He jiggled her swollen bud around with his tongue, careful to keep the contact light. “Would you like me to make you come now?” he asked, his voice mocking.
“Mmm-hmm. Mmm-hmm.”
“All right. I’ll make you come.” He suctioned his lips around her clit—but immediately pulled back. “In a few minutes.”
She yanked against the restraints so hard he swore they’d break any minute. Her chest heaved. He could only imagine what she’d be saying to him if she hadn’t been ordered not to speak.
Her reaction made him reconsider. After all, this wouldn’t be the last orgasm he’d steal from her tonight. Not by a long shot.
Hands against her inner thighs to keep her pussy completely opened, he kissed her. His tongue dipped into her channel, skimmed her feminine walls. The tangy taste of her flavored his tongue and filled his entire mouth, threatening to drive him mad.
“You taste divine, little sub. I could eat you all fucking day.” He sucked her distended bud back into his mouth, pressed two fingers deep into her.
“Sir,” she screamed as her entire body went as hard as the steel bedframe supporting her.
And through her screams, he kept right on feasting. He ate her until the links on her nipple clamps jingled, until she bucked so hard the chains hooking her to the bed rattled in protest.
Until he thought he’d never get the taste of her off his tongue.
Vivian couldn’t breathe.
She cried out as yet another orgasm overtook her. Every muscle in her body was as rigid as a steel bar. The clasps binding her bit into her wrists, her ankles, but strangely enough, the discomfort only fueled the sensations.
“Brock.” She jerked again as his tongue bashed her clit. “Sir.
Sir.
Please…”
“I thought I told you not to talk,” he said against her core, his breath as scorching as a five-alarm fire.
“Sorry…Sir.”
But the bastard just laughed.
Sir pulled back. His fingers slid from her spent sex. The break was a godsend against her sensitive flesh, even if the absence of his mouth and fingers left her pussy feeling cold and abandoned.
Something hard pressed into her sex, easily breaching her opening. The object was too small to be Brock’s cock but thicker than his fingers had been. She lifted her head as best as she could. She wanted to see what he was doing to her, what he was using, but when a humming sound hit her ears and gentle vibrations tickled her core, she didn’t need sight to confirm her initial instincts.
Vibrator.
Back in the club, he’d mentioned possibly using one on her and her body had responded eagerly to the suggestion, something he’d no doubt picked up on, especially considering where his glorious fingers had been wedged at the time. But this was too much. He’d already done so much to her, made her come more times than she could count.
“Relax, pet.” He rubbed his hand over her lower belly as he continued working the vibrator in and out of her. “Let the sensations take you over.”
Her head rolled back, her jaw fell open. The vibrations were already so intense she could hardly breathe. She’d come mere moments ago, but Brock was already priming her for another go. He worked the hardness against her inner muscles, increased the vibrations until pleasure overwhelmed her again.
Or maybe her climax had never really stopped.
She flailed against her restraints. Her lungs nearly stalled. She couldn’t keep her mouth shut a second longer. “P-please, Sir, it’s too, too much.” She worked her head from side to side. Everything had been incredible until now but this was too much.
“Okay, little sub,” Brock murmured, easing the vibrator from her pussy. “Looks like I’ve found your threshold for the night, haven’t I?”
She nodded. “Please un-untie me, Sir. I want to…to hold you.
Need
to hold you.”
“Of course. But only because it’s time for my favorite part of the evening.”