Purely Professional (12 page)

“I think you mean, ‘yes, sir,’” he corrected, and she realized they were back to that again. “Now your blouse.”

Her hands went to the buttons after only a slight pause. With everything they’d already done, it struck her as odd that he’d never seen her naked.

“Leave it on the floor.”

She did so, somewhat awkwardly, her nipples hardening. She couldn’t tell if it was from the cool air or her arousal.

“I love your breasts.” Max rested his chin on his hand.

How does someone respond to that? It wasn’t something one normally said to another person in other circumstances. “Um, thank you, sir.”

“Now your skirt.”

Bridget paused. “I, um, took my underwear off.”

Max smiled. “So?”

All right, then. Here this went. She slid the skirt down her hips and shimmied out of it. Now completely naked, she felt a little self-conscious under his intense stare.

Max got up and went to a wardrobe, then opened a drawer and began rummaging around.

He came back holding leather cuffs, and Bridget suddenly found it difficult to breathe. When he began wrapping the cuffs around her wrists, her heartbeat sped up immediately.

“How do you feel?” He looked into her eyes.

“I’m nervous.” His hands were cool and dry, when hers were beginning to sweat. “But…excited.” She felt torn between wanting him to touch her and feeling apprehensive about what was to come.

He released her hands. “Lie down.” Bridget got onto the bed and scooted to the middle, then lay down, heart pounding. Max climbed up beside her and took her wrists in his, drawing them above her head. Her breath was coming shallowly and quickly now, breasts heaving, as Max clipped both wrists together to an eyebolt set into the headboard. She pulled but couldn’t move them, and her anxiety and arousal both jumped a notch.

“They’ll hold.” He gave her a small smile, and she swallowed. “Still nervous?”

Not trusting her voice, Bridget nodded and licked her dry lips reflexively. Max traced a hand down to her breasts, and she pulled at her bonds again, testing them as he began to roll her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Oh, that felt so good. After his teasing all day, she felt so aroused, her body at a fever pitch, and couldn’t help squirming.

Max smiled. “Easy. I’m not done with you yet.” He sat back and looked her up and down appreciatively. “I love a woman who waxes.” He flicked his fingers across the smooth skin at the juncture of her thighs, making her squirm again, and he laughed. “You can talk, you know.”

“I don’t know what to—ohhh…” She trailed off as his fingers dipped lower, sliding through her folds to find her hard nub.

He rubbed in small circles, and Bridget couldn’t stop the mewling noise that escaped her lips. “You like that. Do you want me to continue?”

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?” He flicked her clit, sending a sharp pain through her, and she gasped.

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s better. Do you like knowing I can do anything I want to you?”

“Yes, sir.” Bridget squirmed on the bed, wanting so badly for him to start rubbing her again.

“Do you like feeling helpless?” His hand hovered right above her cleft.

“Yes, sir,” she repeated, practically panting, arching her hips up to seek his hand. To her disappointment, though, he got up and went back to the bureau. What was he getting? She strained to see, but didn’t need to: he held up the other pair of leather cuffs with a mischievous smile. When he wrapped one around her ankle, she jumped at the sensation.

“Stay still,” he commanded. “Do you remember in Starbucks last week, when you asked me what I was into?” He fastened cuffs around each ankle.

“Yes, sir.”

Almost immediately, he pulled one leg out to the side and clipped her ankle to another eyebolt in the bedpost. “This is what I’m into.” He ran his hand up the inside of her leg. “I love tying a woman up. I prefer rope, but this will do for a start.” When he tied her other ankle, she was stretched out as far as she could be, leg muscles straining. Max had clearly done this before, Bridget thought hazily as he stepped back to admire his handiwork. She was completely immobile, unable to do more than wriggle slightly. When he sat in between her thighs, she couldn’t look at him, nervous and so incredibly aroused she thought she might come if he so much as touched her.

His gaze lingered on her body for a long time. “I love seeing you like this. You’re meant to be bound. These cuffs against your skin…it’s so sexy, Bridget.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure she could say anything even if she tried; she was barely able to breathe. Her entire body seemed to throb with her heartbeat, which was unnaturally loud in her own ears.

Max ran his hands slowly up her body, lingering on her breasts. “It really turns you on.” There was something like disbelief in his voice, as if he hadn’t expected it.

“Yes, sir.” How could she
not
be? Bound, helpless, unable to do anything but
feel
…

“I love tying you up. Knowing you’re mine to play with…” He traced a hand up the inside of her thigh, finding her clit once more, and she cried out, arching off the bed with a pulse that shot through her like electricity. Max slid one finger deep inside her, dipping it lazily in and out, and she clenched hungrily at the stimulation, his slow pace not enough to do anything but tease her further.

“Do you want more?”

“Yes, sir.” She tried to thrust against his finger, unable to do much more than tip her hips upward.

“Is it because you’re a horny little slut?” He added a second finger, and she moaned at the feeling of fullness and pressure. Fuck, his hands were amazing, those long fingers she’d so admired now stretching her, pressing up and finding the spot that made her entire body shudder.

It was hard enough just trying to regulate her breathing, so she didn’t answer, and he slid his fingers out to pinch her inner thigh. She whimpered at the loss of sensation and the sudden pain.

“I asked you a question. Are you a horny little slut?”

“Yes, sir.” Her mind was a haze. She was starting to love it when he called her that; she didn’t know why, but the shame made her even hotter.

“Tell me you’re a slut.” His stare bored into her, merciless, his fingers rubbing her clit again.

“I’m a slut,” she said, breathless, loving the way the naughty word felt on her lips.

“What do you want me to do, slut?”

“Fuck me, please,” she moaned. “Make me come.” After having been on the edge all day, her body was singing with tension, her muscles quivering. She desperately needed release.

“Is that what you want?” His fingers dipped inside her again, sliding all the way in. It felt so good, so intense, and she gasped, tossing her head back and forth on the bed, pulling again at her bonds but unable to get free, and that was the most intense feeling of all. “No, you can’t get away.” His smile was audible even though her eyes had drifted closed. “I want to fuck you, Bridget.”

“Yes,
please
…” Her world had dissolved to the sensation between her legs, to his fingers rubbing against her, pressing all the right spots. She was so close…

When he drew away, she moaned at the loss and opened her eyes. Max pulled his shirt up over his head, revealing lean muscles dusted with dark brown hair. He unzipped his jeans and stepped out of them, then his boxers, and he was naked, hard and thick and oh, yes. She wanted that. Bridget looked at him and nodded, giving him permission, begging him with her eyes. He climbed up onto the bed again, positioning himself between her legs, and she could feel his erection nudging her cleft. Trying to get more friction, more contact, she pressed up against him. Max stared down into her eyes, and she could see some hesitation there, a caution she hadn’t noticed before, a break in his dominance. Slowly, agonizingly, he slid into her.

Bridget gasped when he first slipped inside, lifting her hips to take him in deeper, her pussy gripping his cock. His eyes widened, lips parting, and she knew she was seeing Max as he really was, no persona. He drew back and thrust in again, bracing himself on his elbows above her. Overwhelmed, she closed her eyes, unable to meet his gaze.

“Look at me,” he said, and when she opened her eyes, it was Max as she’d seen him that day—dominant, in control, even as he buried himself fully inside her. After a moment’s pause, he pulled back and thrust in again. Normally, she couldn’t climax from penetration alone, but she’d been on the edge for so long, denied release again and again, and could feel the tension starting to build just from the incredible friction.

“I’m going to make you come, Bridget.” Max began to thrust harder and faster. He slid a hand beneath her and tilted her hips upward, angling to hit the perfect spot inside her. Then he bent to take her nipple into his mouth.

Bridget cried out wordlessly as he bit and sucked, first one nipple, then the other. Unable to move or resist, she could only spiral higher and higher, lost in the sensation of his hard cock inside her. Her whole body trembled, hovering right on the edge.

“Come on, baby,” Max whispered against her breast, and he thrust hard into her. “Come for me.”

Bridget came apart, her body arching off the bed and struggling against her bonds. The restrictions and his weight on her made her come even harder, waves of pleasure rippling through her, wringing her out. Just as she was beginning to relax, he reached between them and began rubbing her clit, and she found herself climbing again. She came once more with a cry, muscles clenching around him, her climax bordering on painful in its intensity and her inability to escape. With a low groan, Max collapsed onto her, throbbing within her as he found his own release.

His body was heavy on hers, his breath hot against the side of her neck as he composed himself. At last he lifted his head. Still bound, Bridget wriggled slightly beneath him, and he closed his eyes at the sensation. “Stop that,” he murmured with a smile, sitting up and withdrawing from her warmth. He untied her ankles, then her wrists, his touch gentle. When she was free, she drew her legs and arms into herself, shivering slightly, still overcome. Max pulled the blanket over them both as he lay down behind her, one hand resting gently on her hip, softly stroking the skin there as she finished coming down from her high.

“So how was that?” he asked, and she rolled over to look at him. He was smiling cautiously, his bravado gone. This was Regular Max, not Dominant Max. “Was that all right?”

In the aftermath, she just wanted to draw into herself, and she pulled the blanket more tightly around her. She had trouble finding words, wanting a moment just to sit in the silence. He seemed to understand, not rushing her, just waiting with that same cautious smile. Finally, she said, “That was amazing. It’s never been like that before.”

“What did you like best?” He propped himself up on his elbow.

Bridget thought for a moment. “All of it. I’ve never been tied up before. It was…intense.”

“It’s a good thing I have soundproofing in this house. You’d have scandalized the neighbors.”

“I’m the neighbors. And I’m here.”

“That’s true.” He smiled, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger. “This is new for you. I wanted to take it easy.”

“That was taking it easy? What’s hard?”

“You’ll see. That’s for another day.” A slight smile on his lips, he leaned down and kissed her. Bridget realized he hadn’t kissed her at all during the sex itself. In the afterglow, she liked this soft intimacy. She reached one hand up to stroke the back of his head, holding him against her, loving the play of his lips against hers. Max drew back and kissed her nose, then swung his legs out of bed and stood up, gloriously naked.

“Come downstairs,” he said. “I want to debrief this.”

“You’re already debriefed.”

He looked skyward and shook his head. “That was terrible.” He pulled on his clothes.

Bridget stood and picked up her skirt off the floor.

“Oh, here, you can wear these if you want.” Max handed her a pair of soft sweatpants and a T-shirt out of the drawer. “They’ll be big on you, but they’re probably more comfortable than that skirt. Take your time and come downstairs when you’re ready.”

* * *

“Scrabble? Really?” Bridget wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “You want to play Scrabble after that?”

He gestured to the expanse of area rug around him. “This is neutral ground. No dominance, no submission. Just us, two friends enjoying a quiet evening together. All right? Have a beer.”

Bridget sat down opposite him and took the Blue Moon. “Cheers.” He clinked the neck of his bottle with hers. Hopefully this would be less likely to go to her head than the pinot noir.

“How was losing your virginity?” Max smiled.

“My…bondage virginity?” She laughed. “I haven’t been a virgin in a long time.”

“Well, you’ve got a few types of virginity I’m sure we can do away with. Bondage is down. The world of kinky sexual escapades is your oyster.”

Bridget pulled out the bag of Scrabble tiles and started spreading them out on the floor. “So is this what ‘purely professional’ looks like?”

“Of course.” His fingers moved swiftly over the tiles as he helped flip them all facedown. “I’m just trying to give you the entire authentic experience. Why, not what you expected?”

Bridget hesitated, wondering how to phrase her feelings. She thought about the look in his eyes when he sank into her, the sweet kisses afterward, the way he covered her with a blanket when it was over. “It was more intimate than I expected.”

“All kinds of sex can be intimate. Even bondage sex.” Max handed her one of the little wooden trays for her Scrabble tiles and took one for himself.

“Do you always give your clothes to your submissives afterward?” Bridget looked down at what she was wearing, then back up at him.

“No.” He flipped over a
C
to beat her
M
and began to draw tiles. “I go first.”

“Why did you do it for me, then?” She set her tiles on the wooden stand.

Max placed
hinder
on the board, then smiled up at her. “Because it’s you.”