Adrianna's Undies (8 page)

Her eyes had fallen shut at some point, but when she opened them, the first thing she saw was the driver, still unabashedly glancing back from up front as he drove. She felt certain Tristan was aware of it too. She shifted her gaze to her old lover, her pleasure complete when she witnessed yet still more warmth in his eyes, warmth and satisfaction. And she recognized that it had happened, that terrible shift in power—terrible because she wasn’t sure quite when and she’d never quite made the decision to let it occur. She’d been…helpless to it. And she couldn’t remember a time in her life—well, in her adult life anyway—when she’d been helpless to anything at all.

Oh Lord. She’d really,
really
been driven not only by lust but by
pleasing
him. This man who’d come back into her life in order to control her. She’d freely submitted to his will. And she’d enjoyed it in a way she couldn’t even understand.

“You see,” he said softly, “this is how it works. You give me what
I
need to feel good, then I make
you
feel good too. It’s not so hard, is it, Adrianna?”

“No,” she heard herself whisper, aghast even as the admission left her. “No, it’s not so hard.”

* * * * *

It wasn’t dominance and submission in the traditional sense, Tristan knew. Not yet, anyway. But they were getting there. She was doing much better suddenly, and it made him so hot he was dying to take her further, deeper, into the game.

When they returned to the Bellagio, walking back inside and through the busy casino area felt dreamlike, jarring. Because he no longer wanted to show Adrianna off to other people—now he wanted her alone, in his room. Now he wanted to make her do things just for him, no one else.

So he led her quickly past the bright lights and sounds of gambling to the elevator, sorry when they had to ride up with a crowd—most of whom couldn’t take their eyes off Adrianna—and relieved when they stepped out into the quiet hallway that would deliver them back to his suite.

Touching her, finally, had been…fucking incredible. He hadn’t quite realized how good it would be. Good from the buildup, the anticipation—but also good in a way it wouldn’t have been with any other woman. Even now, amid all the dirty game-playing, he felt their history when he touched her. He’d taken more pleasure from one flick of his finger through her sweet, hot cunt than he would have from a thousand lap dances from a thousand gorgeous, naked strippers.

Touching her in the car made having teased her, punished her, with the stripper seem almost childish, a worthless act. Touching her had made him realize he was wasting time. He’d thought he needed to take a few hours to prime her, to ease her into a submissive state, and from a practical standpoint, he knew he’d been right—but at the same time, now, all he wanted was to be alone with her. He still wanted to drive her crazy, he still wanted to eke and cajole and coax full-on sexual submission from her—but he wanted to do it privately now. He wanted to feast his eyes on her body; he wanted to touch her at will.

Once in the room, he flipped the lock on the door, slid the chain into place, then turned to face her.

He was clearly feeling too much here because just looking at her in that sinfully hot dress and those built-for-bondage boots was making him crazy inside, crazy lustful, crazy with wanting her—but maybe he should have expected that. And wasn’t that what he’d wanted? To feel so much for her that it consumed him? Wasn’t that when sex was the absolute best?

She stood before him, near the bed, waiting patiently now for his next command. He loved that. And he wanted to get her as worked up and excited again as she’d been before, as he was now.

“Lower your dress over those gorgeous tits,” he told her. “Let me see them.”

Obediently—more so than he’d believed she could be there for a while—she reached up both hands and peeled down the front of the dress to put her glorious breasts on display. He still couldn’t get over how they’d grown from when he’d last seen her topless, and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on them, his cock between them. But first things first.

“Play with your nipples,” he said. They were already stiff and pointed for him, but he wanted to see her touch them.

Licking her upper lip and raising her eyes to his only slightly, she used both index fingers and thumbs to tweak and twirl the turgid pink peaks. He feared his cock would burst through his suit pants if he didn’t free it soon. It felt like a fucking rocket, ready to blast off.

“Now take off your dress,” he instructed. “Slowly.”

As she eased her way out of the sexy garment, Tristan’s chest tightened with more lust than he’d known a man could feel. He’d seen her in the revealing leather lingerie earlier, of course—hell, he’d put her in it himself. But now, after all the titillation the evening had held, seeing her like that—her breasts majestically exposed, her hair spilling riotously over her shoulders, her long, slender legs looking built to wrap around a man’s hips, her pussy swelling, appearing confined somehow even in crotchless panties—left him short of breath. She was a dominant male’s fantasy come to life, right here in his hotel room.

“Next, lower the panties.”

She looked a little surprised at the command, probably since they already allowed easy access to her slit—but the fact was, due to their design, they still covered key parts of her, and they’d done their job. He wanted her completely bare there now.

Slipping her thumbs into the thin band of leather at each hip, Adrianna peeled the Ultimate Pleasure Panties away, sighing and gasping a little at those last sensations as she pulled them down. She bent at the waist, back arched, breasts thrust forward as she completed the act, finally leaving the panties to fall around the ankles of her boots. As she stepped free of them, her slit parted more fully, allowing a keener look at the pink folds inside.

“Now walk over to that bureau and open the top drawer,” Tristan said, enjoying the simple act of watching her glide across the room in only the boots, corset and choker. “And take out what’s inside.”

Her eyes didn’t change even as she drew out the black silken ties he’d placed there earlier. Not everything he had in mind for Adrianna could be bought at her own boutique—he’d ventured to a sex shop to plan for this night, as well.

“Bring them to me,” he told her, still riveted by the sight of her walking about the room in the apparel he’d chosen for her. After she passed the ties to him, he added, “Now kneel on the bench with your back to me,” motioning to the divan at the foot of the large bed.

Adrianna obeyed wordlessly and he continued sensing a real, true change in her. And the further they went, the less choices she would have, so the way he saw it, it was to her advantage to have finally given in to this.

He couldn’t deny the sense of power and control it gave him to watch her so docilely obeying his orders now, especially when he said, “Put your arms behind you,” and she easily complied, offering herself up to be bound.

He started by looping the longest tie high around her arms, halfway between elbows and shoulders. He pulled it tight—hearing her draw in her breath as the move forced her breasts to thrust even farther in front—before crisscrossing the thick black ribbon and drawing them back under, near her elbows. He continued to lace her arms behind her back all the way to her wrists, where he tied the cord in a snug knot that would only pull tighter if she struggled against it. Then he stood back and admired his work, surprised at how lovely he thought she looked that way.

But the time for looking was over and the time for doing had come.

With her still kneeling before him, he slowly placed his hand on the back of her neck, letting his fingers curl around the choker there, and bent her body forward over the bed. The mattress sat higher than the divan so when her chest rested there, her round ass arched toward him.

After making his own trip to the bureau, he returned, wholly pleased with her quiet acquiescence. Yes, Adrianna was finally getting the hang of this sex slave thing. He found himself leaning over her from behind and, even though still fully clothed, he nestled his erection in the soft valley of her ass as he rasped near her ear, “Have you been fucked in the ass before, dirty little slave girl?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation, and though it didn’t surprise him, it still stiffened his cock further.

“Do you like it?”

Another easy, instant reply. “Yes.”

“Good,” he said. Then he eased back, standing upright—and reached for the ass plug he’d bought especially for her.

Uncapping the jar of Vaseline he’d also picked up, he moistened the plug then set the petroleum jelly aside. He thought this particular apparatus resembled a slightly cone-shaped Popsicle.

Her anus remained prettily puffy and pink from all that earlier stimulation, and Adrianna gasped softly when he pressed the rounded end of the toy there, beginning to gently twist it back and forth, easing the tip inside.

“Does that feel good, my little fuck slave?” he asked, his voice coming out deeper than usual.

“Uh-huh,” she breathed in front of him.

“Do you want more of it?”

“If…if you want me to have it…master.”

Ah yes
. Damn, his balls tightened at such hot, sexy submission. “Good girl,” he told her, using one hand to push the plug slightly deeper, the other to stroke her perfect ass, almost petting it.

Before him, her breath grew louder, more ragged, as he began to slowly fuck her ass with the toy, pushing it in, pulling it back out, then pushing it a little deeper, using the momentum and her growing pleasure to enter the toy more thoroughly into that hot little fissure.

Tristan feared his chest would explode from all the heat inside him by the time the ass plug slid all the way in, five or six inches deep, then caught there, her anal flesh closing over the thickest part to leave only the thinner knoblike handle exposed.

He looked at her like that for a minute, just enjoying the visual effect, just knowing that having a cock-like object up her ass without any stimulation to her clit would quickly make her crazed with need all over again. Need he would slake. After a while.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he pulled her up onto her knees and leaned around to look into her eyes. Ah God, she was beautiful—possibly more beautiful than he’d ever seen her in this moment because that’s when he knew for sure. She wasn’t acting. Playing a part. Pretending. She was really submitting. Never in his life had he seen Adrianna Kline look so compliant, so utterly…tamed.

“I still want you on your knees,” he told her, “but on the floor now.”

As she stood, only to then kneel back down on the carpet, Tristan took off his jacket, his tie, then unbuttoned his shirt. She watched him, but not directly—just from the corner of her eye. Like a good little slave. He didn’t know if it was humanly possible for his cock to get any rock-harder, but he could have sworn it tightened even more.

To think, he’d concocted this game because
she
needed it. Because it was the only way he could have her without her insisting on calling all the shots. What he hadn’t anticipated was how truly turned-on he would be by playing the dominant role. By seeing her truly submit. He’d thought it was a means to an end, the way to curb Adrianna’s controlling nature—but now the game itself was making the blood sizzle through his veins in a way he hadn’t expected.

Without preamble, he next unzipped his pants and reached in his silk boxers to withdraw his aching cock. It stretched long and hard in front of him, veins bulging, and he liked that Adrianna seemed utterly unable to avert her eyes once it had been revealed.

“Do you remember how much you used to enjoy this big cock?” he asked, letting a small smile take him.

She nodded eagerly, her expression gone passionate. “Oh
yes
.”

He took a step closer to her, bringing his erection to her current eye level. “Suck it,” he demanded.

Because it was so long and because she didn’t have her hands to help her, Tristan held the thick shaft down, offering it to her. Opening wide, Adrianna closed her lips around the pink head, the tip glistening with pre-come, then went down on him.

He groaned as the pleasure shot through him.
Fuck, yes.
He’d underestimated how amazingly good it would feel. Oh God, the slick slide of her mouth, so wet, so warm, the way she moved up and down on him so hotly, even without the use of her hands, so eager, so fucking thorough.

“Look at me, Adrianna,” he said, his breath labored. “Look at me while you suck my cock.”

She’d kept her eyes down, maybe even closed, up to now, but on his command she raised her gaze to his as she worked her mouth.

“That’s so fucking good, my dirty girl,” he said between his moans and soon could no longer resist moving with her, fucking her sweet mouth.

Ah God, he’d forgotten how damn skilled she was at this—and apparently she’d only gotten better over time. She took him deep, deeper than most women could—he could feel the back of her throat. Her eyes glazed with lust and she looked beautifully obscene. He put both hands on her head and fucked her mouth harder. He couldn’t help it, and he knew Adrianna could take it. “That’s right, that’s right,” he prodded her. “Suck that big cock. Be my naughty slave girl and suck it hard.”

He loved the sounds she made as she moved up and down on him—wet sounds, full sounds that made him envision his cock stretching all the way down her throat. And that made him think of her ass. Of the toy he’d placed there, also stretching, reaching deep inside her body. Did she feel it more when she moved on him like this?

Holding her hair back so he could watch her lips slide over his engorged shaft, he dug his fingertips into her scalp, massaging and pulling her to him, again, again, as he fucked that sweet, hot mouth. “Mmm, baby, yeah,” he said on a moan.

Oh God, he wanted to come. He hadn’t planned to, not now, not yet—there was a hell of a lot more that needed to happen here—but, but… Oh shit, fuck, he had to. He fucking had to. Besides, with Adrianna here to turn him back on, it wouldn’t take long.