Blackestnights (8 page)

He escorted me out of the men’s room and I skittered through the ladies’ door, hoping no one saw me. Okay, so I had plenty of work to do on those inhibitions Black mentioned. My reflection in the mirror silenced my self-doubt.

Mascara ringed my eyes and my lipstick had smeared. Dabbing at the smudges with Black’s handkerchief, I took off a good deal of my foundation as well. Freckles stared back at me, but my cheeks glowed with a pink flush. My hair perfectly tousled and my eyes alight with daring, I suddenly saw what Black saw—a beautiful, curvaceous woman filled with spirit. At least I thought that’s how he saw me.

Reapplying only a little lip balm, I hurried out to meet him.

“I get it.” I hugged the arm he offered me.

As if he understood exactly what I meant—and most likely he did—Black kissed me softly. “I knew you would sooner or later.”

The boutique we visited was “by appointment only”, which I could only assume he’d had his assistant arrange since Black waved away my questions. A personal shopper had picked out items in advance—a couple of dresses, more jeans, some stylish blouses and tasteful but damn sexy undergarments. All fit perfectly and flattered my complexion and figure.

Black left without paying, flipping a casual wave at the attendant. Again, I could only imagine what arrangements he’d already made in advance.

Once he’d retrieved his car from the valet, we headed home.

“Do you like the clothes? You didn’t say much at the store,” he noted.

“I do. They’re beautiful.”

“You can leave them at my place and bring more of your things later in the week.”

The statement struck me as presumptuous. “Am I moving in?”

“Not immediately, but I expect that you’ll be spending lots of time at my place.”

“I suppose.”

“Yes or no. Do you want to or not?”

“I don’t know.”

“Indecision and inhibition.” He clucked his tongue.

Staring out the window, I attempted to sort out my feelings. While I’d enjoyed every second that we’d spent together thus far, I wasn’t sure where I wanted all this to go. Then it struck me that his admonishment was true. I was absolutely indecisive and inhibited. Especially about speaking my feelings.

A pebble of annoyance worked its way to the surface and I blurted it out before I had the chance to think better. “You have to stop buying me things after we… You know.”

“I don’t know. Say what you mean.”

“After we
fuck
.” I gripped the handles of the shopping bag.

“I thought we’d been over this.” He sighed, rolling his eyes. “It’s not my intention to make you feel like a whore. If you don’t want the clothes, we can stop by the nearest thrift store and donate them. Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Well, you did call me a five-dollar crack whore earlier.”

A grin broke through his serious expression. “No, I didn’t. I asked if you liked being treated like a five-dollar crack whore. There’s a difference.”

Touché.

“For the record, I wasn’t crazy about the blowjob in the bathroom thing,” I said.

“Then why did you do it? You could’ve stopped me at any time.”

“I wanted to try it, but I don’t think it’s my thing. Sex in public.”

“Boundary noted.” He kissed my hand, arching an eyebrow. “So, should I stop somewhere to discard your payment for services rendered?”

Black rustled the bag for emphasis.

“No. I like the clothes. I’m just trying to figure out how I feel about all this.”

He dipped his head as if conceding the point. All this was new for both of us. It would take some time until we understood each other completely.

* * * * *

When we got to the house, Black said he had some work to do and told me I should try to write some more.

Sitting in front of the laptop, I stared at the blank open file, every blink of the cursor mocking me. Finally I typed the word “Black”, but couldn’t come up with much more than that.

An hour later, he walked through the dining room. “How’s the writing going?”

“It’s not.”

He stood behind me. “One word. My name. That’s it?”

I sighed. “I know. I’m pathetic.”

“That you’re calling yourself pathetic is pathetic. Stand up.”

“It’s not playtime,” I reminded him.

“Enforced availability,” he hissed in my ear. “Stand up or I will pick you up and force you to assume the position.”

The threat sent a pulse of arousal straight to my pussy, the aching throb he elicited with ease pounding between my legs.

I stood, facing him, his warm breath grazing my nose. Would he kiss me? Though we’d done everything else on the planet, he rarely kissed me during playtime and I craved the taste of his mouth and tongue.

As though he’d read my mind, he eased forward, pressing his lips to mine, his tongue playfully stabbing. Melting against him, I prayed the kiss would never end, but all too soon he pushed my head back, skimming his mouth over my ear and neck. I shivered, the contact with such sensitive skin tightening my nipples to tiny buds.

Boosting me onto the table, he didn’t break contact, lips still teasing my earlobe. One hand slid up my back, cradling my head as he laid me back. He wasted no time stripping off my jeans and casting them aside. Once he’d freed himself from his trousers, he pulled me to the edge and thrust into me. I cried out, not yet wet enough to accommodate his length and girth, but he didn’t stop. He shoved deeper inside me. I yelped again, which only elicited a growl. After several painful thrusts, he got my juices flowing and the agony turned into pure pleasure.

Black hooked one of my legs over his shoulder and turned his face against it. He sucked and bit at my thigh. Heat radiated out from the bite marks, claiming my pussy. I wanted him to break the skin, maybe even draw blood.

“Harder,” I moaned.

Shoving a hand against my face, he held my head to the side. “Shut up. Don’t tell me how to fuck you.”

“But I want you to bite me harder.”

He smacked my ass, leaving a warm sting in his wake. “Do not tell me what you want. You’ll take what I give you.”

I moaned, thrusting my hips upward. I knew if I reacted enough, he’d have to punish me somehow, but instead of biting me again, he put a hand around my neck. “Be still.”

Though the pressure wasn’t so hard I couldn’t breathe, his firm grip kept me immobile. He hammered at my cunt, his cock slamming home with every forward thrust. I let myself go limp. Maybe, just maybe if I gave him what he wanted, he’d do what I’d asked.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he buried himself inside me, his cock twitching. He’d come already, which meant no orgasm for me. When he released me, I couldn’t hide my disappointment.

He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on my lips. “If you want more pleasure, you need to write. A thousand words, just something to get you started.”

I nodded but refused to make eye contact.

“Come on.” He slapped my thigh. “Don’t be petulant. If you’re trying to get a punishment out of me it won’t work.”

Right. That’s what he said now, but I was sure if I pushed him far enough, he’d have to respond. Wouldn’t he?

“Okay,” I replied, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him.

Searing pain shot across my scalp as he gripped my hair and pulled me off the table. I tumbled to the floor onto my hands and knees, but he yanked me up and pulled me by my hair then forced me to sit at the table.

Fingertips digging into my face, he squeezed my cheeks. “Don’t be a brat. You’re better than that. Do what I told you to do and then you’ll get your reward.”

Embarrassment at the scolding doused the last residue of desire. He’d seen right through my ruse and still refused to punish me for it.

“Write.” He stabbed the air with his forefinger then stalked away.

For several minutes, I sat, my arms folded over my chest. My cunt, sticky with his cum, pressed to the chair seat. Once I’d gotten up and retrieved my pants, I resumed my defiant position.

Then it happened.

I touched my fingertips to the keys and began to write and I wrote about Black…

It was a crisp autumn day like any other, but not like any other because
he
walked into my life. The cut of his suit, the swagger in his walk, the cocky expression he wore told me all I needed to know. This was the man who would change my life forever.

An hour later, I had chronicled how we met and detailed our first play session. A satisfied grin on my face, I clicked the Save button and closed the laptop. Stretching, I rose from the chair and went in search of Black.

The door to his study was closed and I hesitated before knocking on it. Worst case scenario he’d punish me for interrupting him, and wasn’t that what I wanted anyway? I tapped softly, bracing myself for his reaction.

“Come in,” he called.

Dammit. Oh well, at least I’d get to see more of his work.

Opening the heavy oak door, I discovered that his study was more than that. It was a full-fledged photography studio, replete with lighting fixtures, tripods, backdrops, etc.

“Wow.” I exhaled the word more than said it.

“You haven’t seen my workspace yet, have you?”

I shook my head.

“Come.” He rose from his chair and took me by the hand.

The studio was outfitted with old-fashioned print developing equipment as well as a serious computer system, presumably for manipulating digital imagery.

“And here,” he motioned to a large open space, “is where I’ll take pictures of you.”

“Oh no.” I shook my head.

“Oh yes.” He nodded. “I’m going to tie you up so really you’ll have no choice.”

“I could always use the stop word.”

He shrugged. “You could, but you won’t.”

My pulse quickened. Would he bind me in the contorted, explicit poses he’d bound Mika? Ropes cutting into my breasts and cunt, arms behind me or overhead?

“Look at you. You’re all flushed just thinking about it. Your cheeks are the most beautiful shade of red.” He caressed my face.

I met his gaze, my pulse hammering away between my thighs. “I like the idea.”

He picked up a pile of natural fiber rope. “Then let’s get started.”

Black stripped me naked and had me kneel on a large pillow.

“This can take some time and I don’t want you to get too uncomfortable…at least not before I’m finished binding you.”

Though he’d restrained me in other ways this weekend, nothing prepared me for how tightly he would pull the ropes. He began by securing my wrists behind my back, then he tied a series of complicated knots around my arms, working his way up to my breasts. Crisscrossing the rope, he squeezed my breasts into two mounds of bulging flesh. Once he put me on my side, tying one knee to my shoulder and attaching my other ankle to my bound wrists, I could no longer tell what he was doing. All I knew was that the ropes cut into my breasts, my ass, my cunt, just as he’d said they would during our first dinner together.

The process was excruciating and took nearly an hour to finish, presumably because of the time and artistry he put into each knot. The finishing touch—he wrapped my tongue in a silk scarf, tying a slipknot, the ends of which he secured around my head. I had no choice but to open up and say ahh.

Slowly he circled me, muttering his approval of his work. Then he set up the tripod and lighting and snapped several pictures.

“So beautiful. You should see yourself right now.” He looked at the camera’s display screen, knelt and then turned it so I could see.

A jolt of electricity coursed through me. Whoever this woman was, she wasn’t me. Sensual, helpless, auburn hair spread out across the black floor, milky skin tinged pink by the irritation of the ropes, nipples tight nubs, cunt splayed open by the ropes, milky thighs in contrast with the burgundy pillow he’d propped under me.

“You see it now. You are beautiful. Erotic.
Special
.
” He punctuated the word with a kiss to my thigh. Then his teeth sank into my flesh. He bit me harder than he had in the dining room. I groaned, unable to stem the tide of pain and pleasure. My throbbing pussy clenched, eager for him to fill me.

He bit his way to my cunt, careful not to bear down too hard. His tongue flicked over my clit, sending ripples of ecstasy through me. I trembled, unable to do anything else. The ropes sliced into my rib cage as I panted. I could hardly draw in enough air.

Black laved at my pussy using long, languid strokes, tongue dipping in and out of me. I felt myself get wetter and wetter, the cool air in the studio licking at my dripping slit.

Without warning, he stood and I prayed he wouldn’t leave. I needed him now, more than ever, to fuck me, bound and motionless like this, completely at his mercy. His plaything. My mound pulsed and I watched helplessly as he walked out of the studio.

I pulled against the restraints, but there was no way in hell for me to get out of this bondage without him setting me free. My wrists chafed, my breasts and ass were on fire from the taut ropes.

When he returned, he was naked, carrying a small bottle of fluid. I’d never seen this much of his body before and I took a moment to drink him in. Exquisite musculature, tight abdomen, rippling shoulders and that ocean of caramel skin, marked only with a few well-placed tattoos. He was stunning.

Setting aside the bottle, he knelt in front of me and rolled me onto my back. My legs poised in midair, my arms behind my back, I was immobile, the ropes between my thighs cutting into my vulva even more.

Rubbing the head of his cock along my slit, he slid into me. Immediately my pussy clenched his shaft. Throbbing need coursed through me. Unable to speak or move, I could only take what he gave me, but I knew he’d give me the pleasure I longed for. I’d been a good sub, I’d withstood the pain of this extreme bondage and now I’d get my reward.

As he pounded my cunt, the ropes rubbed against my skin, the agony only adding to my pleasure. Not only would my pussy be raw, my whole body would be as well. I panted, unable to do much else to manage the overwhelming sensations. Each powerful slap of his pelvis against my ass sent waves of ecstasy through me.

Brushing his thumb over my clit, he took me to another level of bliss. I floated along on the rush of pleasure and pain. Overcome with arousal, I strained against the bonds. I needed to touch him, I needed to buck wildly, I needed to come, but all I could do was wait for him to give me release.

Beads of sweat dotted my brow, my whole body trembled, my muscles tightened. Tears flooded my eyes and I sucked in gulps of air as best I could, the rope slicing into my ribs. I caught his gaze, silently pleading with him.

He increased the pressure of his thumb against my clit. More intense pleasure rippled through me. My cunt sucked at his cock, the smacking sound ringing in my ears. I loved how he fucked me, how he gave me sweet pain in return for my submission. He owned every inch of my body.

Finally, the skyrocketing ecstasy reached its pinnacle and I shook, crying out. Juices wet my thighs, my pussy contracted over and over. Tears leaked down my face, my body simultaneously enraptured and in agony. I sobbed harder as the orgasm increased in intensity.