Make Me (11 page)

Anticipation turns to pulsing heat between my legs. This man knows just how to touch me. There’s nowhere for me to move when his hand smacks my ass with a loud crack. Nowhere but forward, tighter against the bed, pressing a swell of wood into my crotch, stimulating a place that’s been tortured by too much pleasure and not enough release today. He spanks my other cheek once. Then the punishment truly begins.

Quick slaps and slow rubs decorate my ass, each time jostling my swollen clit against the post, driving me crazy. I need to grind against something, need to get off, but I dare not move in case he stops. The thought of him stopping is intolerable.

What he’s doing is almost enough to make me come. Between slaps, he caresses the flesh, brings goose bumps up on the heated, sensitive flesh. I never knew skin could be so aware. Every inch screams for his hand to focus on it next, a slap or a rub, I don’t care as long as he keeps going.

He suddenly grabs my hips and yanks me away from the post. I’ve been grinding despite my efforts not to.

His grip tightens. “Well, well. Somebody likes a spanking, doesn’t she?”

Fuck yes.
I wrap my arms around the post, bending over with my legs wide. “I-I don’t know, Sir.” My voice is husky, dry from breathing heavily. Is he going to fuck me? My thighs tingle at the thought.

“You don’t know? And yet...” He strokes up my thigh, lazily, but directly toward my throbbing pussy. Oh God. If he doesn’t stop his hand... If he touches me, he’s going to feel how wet I am, he’s going to know exactly how much this turns me on. Heat radiates from my cheeks, but I don’t safe out, don’t even want to.

It’s not that I want him to fuck me. It’s that I want to know if he’s just as turned on by this as I am. Okay, and I also want him to fuck me.

We let out synchronized moans when his fingers discover the wetness between my legs and spread it to my clit, rubbing it until my hips buck and I press harder against his hand.

“That’s enough.”

I whimper when he removes his hand just before I come. I hate today.

“Someone really likes a good spanking. Such a naughty girl for lying about not knowing what she likes.” He strokes my neck and lowers his voice. “You will always own your preferences, Ms. Winters. Never lie about that again. Your punishment wasn’t the spanking. It was that. Denial.”

I’m going to break in every toy in that fucking bag as soon as he leaves.

His fingertips trail down my spine. “When we’re in a scene, your pleasure belongs to me, understand? You don’t get to take anything I do not offer.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” He has no idea how sorry.

“You’ve done very well and deserve a reward. Stand and face me.”

His cock juts out beneath his pants and his lips are moist and parted, eyes broadcasting that he’s just as turned on right now as I am, and that feeling is arousing and validating. I did that to this gorgeous, powerful man who could have his pick of partners.

He hauls me close, squeezes my still-tender ass, and pulls the hair at the nape of my neck. His lips meet mine, tongue plunging inside my mouth as though I’m his and gave myself to him forever ago.

Wanting more, I wrap my arms around him, exploring the hard planes of his body, kissing him back even more fiercely. If this is against the rules I’ll take any punishment he can dish out, but I need to fucking touch him.

I’ve never been kissed like this, been stamped with a kiss that reeks of ownership. I’ve seen them in old movies, where the woman was overwhelmed by the strength of her man and swoons in his arms. Now I get it. I understand submission.

It has nothing to do with a big strong man and a weak willing woman. It’s about giving someone the power, the control to make you feel like this. The currency is pleasure and the cost is a surrender of power. The reward is greater than I’d ever imagined.

His hand clenches tighter, pulling at my hair more, twisting equal amounts of pleasure and pain, and I moan, breasts swollen with desire, both pent up from earlier and brought forth now. One nip to my lip and he pulls away, leaving me panting and frustrated.

“Scene.”

“Scene?” I whimper.

“Yes. We’re done.”

“Oh.” Disappointment? It takes a second to name the feeling sinking in.

She’s almost as saturated with lust as she was when I interrupted this morning. Maybe more so, which is saying a lot. I’d known exactly what I walked in on today but was glad to have entered when I did. Pure chance, but once I realized she’d been denied her orgasm, I stayed with her until we began the scene, knowing her sexual frustration would temper any anticipatory fear.

There’s actually a smile on her face.

She didn’t kiss me back like a stranger; Sloane threw herself into the kiss with furious abandon, sucking my tongue deeper into her mouth, crushing her lips to mine. As badly as I want to continue things, it’s not the time. I reach around her to right her dress, and she mistakes my intention, snuggling in for a hug. My erect cock between us is a little awkward, but her openness in the moment makes up for that and I hold her close.

Her dark eyes sparkle when she pulls back and grabs her robe. “Come to the kitchen?”

“Sure.”

It’s the loosest I’ve ever seen her—and this happy, fun woman skipping about the room is completely charming.

“Check in. How are you physically?”

She grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and swallows a huge mouthful before passing me one. “Good. So good. I might be a teensy bit high on endorphins.”

“Just a bit. Are there any particularly sore marks I need to know about, anything that needs looking at?”

She stretches a little, assessing, before shaking her head. “No, it feels good. What a weird round.”

“How so?”

“Well, you just bossed me around and made me stretch. I think it was about flexibility, but I don’t know. Hang on, I need to get into something a little less comfortable than a nightie and panties.” She disappears into the bedroom.

I use the opportunity to put the kettle on, brew some tea and pull out the biscuits I brought. Sloane’s floating on an endorphin rush that will soon end, and I don’t want her to crash when it does. Every cell in my body screams at me to follow her and finish what we started, but she needs time to process things. I will wait until she’s ready.

Sloane emerges from the bedroom just after the tea’s poured, wearing grey yoga pants and a green tank top. Her face glows, freshly washed, hair pushed back with a thin, green headband. “That’s better. Oh, you made tea?”

“Yes.”

“And you brought cookies. How terribly civilized.” Her British accent is atrocious and makes my cheeks hurt trying not to smile. This woman makes me feel less serious than I ever have in my life. It’s hard to be the stern teacher when she makes my heart so light.

She plucks a biscuit from the tray and pinches it in her teeth while she pours milk into her tea with one hand and stirs in a spoonful of sugar with the other. Her mania fades a bit after eating a couple cookies. “What was that round about? Stretching? Obedience? Just to be topped? Only it seemed pretty straightforward.”

“All of the above. I wanted to take you out of your comfort zone physically and see how you responded. We also discovered something you really like.”

“Spankings.” Her blush is deep and immediate.

“And one day you won’t blush when you say it.” I tip her chin up to have her eyes again. “There’s no shame in being turned on by it, Sloane. It’s more common than you think.” Her eyes focus on my mouth, and I release her lest we give her kitchen appliances something to talk about.

“It just seems like an easy round.”

I ease onto a stool. “I did think about having one of the Dommes, female Dominants, come in and top you.”

“Why?”

“Kink is about more than sex. If we wanted to just fuck people, we’d be doing it.” Or wishing we were doing it. With Sloane. On the table. On the bed. Against the wall. Right now. All day.

“Oh.” She sits next to me.

“Kink is about finding your boundaries and respecting them but also about challenging your comfort zone and expanding it.”

“Making boundaries your bitches?”

I smile. “Something like that. Before this afternoon, would you have ever thought you’d do what you did today?”

“Nope. And it’s weird.” She pops the other half in her mouth and chews it while mulling over her words. “I...the strange thing was how turned on I was.” She blushes, but endorphins have dampened her inhibitions. “But it was the situation. It fully turned me on; not that I want us to sleep together.”

“And that is perfectly fine, too. That is a personal choice and normal to scene with someone and not have sex with them. There are members who have never once had sex with anyone since joining. While sexual desire usually plays a large part in BDSM, it isn’t always the case. A great number of participants get off on the acts themselves, not in fucking afterwards, though that’s certainly an option if both participants are willing. Some people are in monogamous relationships outside the club.”

“How is that... oh, I get it. Submitting but no sex.”

I brush crumbs from the corner of her mouth with my thumb. “Or dominating, depending on their preference. There are people who are into the sexual aspect instead of the domination itself, which is more important to us at The Underground. The Dom’s sex or gender shouldn’t matter. While preferences are honored, The Underground is all inclusive, and there is no place for someone with gender hang-ups in their kink. If you were running a place that’s all about being inclusive and safe with no judgments and someone got twitchy when they saw you being affectionate with your Dom or sub, that would get old fast.”

She takes a deep drink from her cup. “I can see how that could lead to tension.”

“On the other hand, don’t be hard on yourself if you realize you’re into things you weren’t aware of until now.”

“I guess I never really thought much about it before. But it can be as sexual as you want to make it.”

“Or not at all. It’s about the person you’re with. That’s it. You and them. We’re all just people, Dominants and submissives. Beneath it all, we’re human beings with needs and wants and preferences.”

“Darko?”

“Yes?”

She stands and inches closer until she’s barely a breath away. “Earlier? I lied.”

“About what?” Disapproval cools my voice. We were progressing nicely—why would she feel the need for dishonesty? I have no time for liars.

“About not wanting to sleep with you. I want to, very much.”

The urge to cover my face and flee the room rises, but I want him so much I stand my ground. He wanted me in that scene—I wasn’t just another sub to him. He was rock hard and ready, and he said denial was my punishment, but I still want him and the scene is over. He wouldn’t reject me now, would he?

There’s no way I read the signals wrong. Or did I? I’m going to gnaw my lip off. “Say something.”

His gaze rakes my skin from head to feet and back. “No.”

Then his hands are on my waist hauling me closer, and his lips consume mine with a greed that makes my blood sing.

The elastic waist of my yoga pants offers no resistance to his skillful hands, and he tugs them down, baring my ass, grabbing it with his hands and squeezing. The pressure pulls me closer to him, and the hard cock I felt in the scene earlier nudges against me again.

I want to see his arousal. I want to see what I’ve done to this sexy Dominant male who’s driven me crazy with need. My hands fumble with his pants in my eagerness. The tip of his cock peeks out over his waistband, dipping only slightly when I remove the pants and boxers from the equation.

My hands underestimated his size.

My knees meet the floor, and I take the large crown of his cock between my lips, circling the tip with my tongue.

His hands thread through my hair but don’t restrain me or try to direct my movements.

He’s letting me do what I want.

Keeping eye contact, I suck hard once, then release him and lick the bottom from the base to the tip. I may be new to kink, but I know a little something about this.

His eyes are all pupils, dilated with desire and with the restraint it must be taking to give me free rein.

Wet heat pulses between my legs.

I take as much of his smooth length into my mouth as I can, using my hand to cover the rest, pumping leisurely, matching my suction and tongue to that slow, steady pace for a while.

The way I want him to drive inside me is the complete opposite of that. He’s done things to my body I had no idea I’d like but that I want more of, things I thought were wrong to want.

I need his hands on my body.

My lips and tongue and hands go wild on his cock, and I look up as he throws his head back for a moment, taking everything I give.

His hips start rocking into my motions, his hands clench my hair, pulling tight, sending small streaks of pain across my scalp.

My nipples tighten even more at his unconscious loss of control.

I did that to him.

He shudders and pulls out of my mouth, breathing heavily.

Then he kneels in front of me and pushes me backwards with a hand splayed on my chest. The muscles in his jaw stand out as he works them, fighting inner turmoil I can’t see but welcome as he crawls over my body, laying me back on the cool tile as he crowds me to the floor, nudging my legs open and lying on top.

Pinned beneath the warm expanse of his chest, a huge grin overtakes me.

He nibbles it off my lips.

How can his lips be so soft and so destructive at the same time? The instant his mouth touches mine, I yield, becoming soft, willing, the shapeless clay waiting for his hands to make me into something beautiful. No one should have this kind of power over me, but I want more. I want it all.

“Darko, take your shirt off. I want to feel you.”

He rocks his hips into mine, rubbing my clit with the base of his cock. “What was that?”

I try again, but his mouth captures one of my nipples and he sucks so deep the words leave me in a deep moan.

I’d pout like a motherfucker if he wasn’t giving me more than what I wanted.

He kisses across my chest to my other breast. “You wanted me to do this?” He sucks that nipple deeply, setting off a sympathetic tug of pleasure between my legs.

“Yeah.” Naked, clothed, hell he can wear a coconut shell bra and grass skirt as long as he keeps doing that with his mouth and hips.

I’m going to leave a puddle on my kitchen floor.

I
am
a puddle on my kitchen floor.

He sits up and removes his shirt. He’s chiseled and defined, and I want to lick those veins on his lower belly leading to his cock, jutting out toward me.