Restrained and Willing (11 page)

“We’ll start out small.” He snapped the implement over his
palm. The sound loud in the airy space.

Her body involuntarily jerked.

The punishment tool might be fairly little in size, probably
no more than twelve inches total with a flexible leather portion attached to a
thick round black handle, but no less intimidating. Especially, as she
suspected, within the hand of a seasoned user.

Pierce’s smile was predatory as he moved forward on the
chair. His muscular thighs forming a perfect bench for her to lie across. She
bit her bottom lip. More to stem the flow of anticipation igniting between her
legs than any sense of panic. She couldn’t count the times she’d brought
herself to orgasm while daydreaming about this exact kind of love play. One of
her other diaries was filled with chapter after chapter of her being at
Pierce’s mercy, subjected to various forms of sensual torture. Her unguarded
ass receiving the brunt of his discipline. On occasion, his expertly wielded
smacks landed on her vulnerable exposed pussy.

“Down.”

She lay over his lap and got comfortable. As comfortable as
one could get knowing what was coming and having a stiff cock pressing just
below her squashed tits, lightly compressing her lungs, taking up precious air
space she had the feeling she’d be needing all too soon.

Pierce opened his legs wider, allowing for more stability as
she curled one hand around the short sturdy wood leg of the chair, her other
hand around his ankle.

The first smack came without a whisper of warning.

“Damn it!” Her shout echoed through the room. Her body
arched. But even before he laid the forearm closest to her head across her
shoulder blades and steadily pushed her back into position, the fire in her
right cheek was already dissipating into a steady heated burn.

“Not a sound. Unless I ask a direct question. As much as I’d
love to prolong your punishment, see your creamy ass redden more with every
stroke of the paddle, I don’t want you incapable of handling what comes later,”
he leaned over, temporarily pinning her and pressed a soft kiss to the middle
of her back, “no matter how much you beg me to continue. And have no doubt, brat,
you will
beg
. For more of what I’m about to give you and so much more.”

The next hit landed on the opposite cheek.

She bit her lip, but still a squeak escaped.
Shit!
That burned like a motherfucker. Followed by yet another rapid spread of heat,
trailing off to an inflamed tingle.

“Better, but still not good enough.”

The third fell on the tender flesh at the back of her upper
thigh.

Her legs jackknifed up to protect the sensitive area.

He pushed on her calves until her legs straightened. “That
happens again and I’ll tie them down.”

Heather stilled. Shocked. Not because he’d turned her off,
because the explicit threat had the reverse effect. Warmth flooded her pussy as
more fluid flowed. Oh God. She wanted to be tied down. Helpless.

The paddle next landed on the underside of her cheek.
Harder. More sting. More heat.

He picked up the pace. Opposite thigh…the underside of the
other cheek in rapid succession. Never in the same place twice.

She bit her lip against the fire radiating from where the
paddle stung with the ferocity of a frenzied bee.

Just as she was congratulating her ability to hold back any
sound, he changed the rhythm, vacillating between fast and slow. Never hitting
where she anticipated.

Her breathing became shallow. Rapid. He gave her no time to
catch her breath.

At some point, she lost count of the hits, lost the will to
predict where the next one would land. All she could do was give over to the
exquisite pain, wondrous heat, tentacles of intense pleasure spreading through
every nerve ending of her trembling body. Vacuuming back to center in her
throbbing pussy.

She hadn’t even realized she’d spread her legs wider until
she felt a light smack on her exposed clit. She gasped softly and attempted to
close her legs.

To prevent her reflexive action, he hooked the foot closest
to him with his and clamped his free hand on the thigh farthest away.

“Definitely tying your sweet ass down next time and however
many times after that until you learn not to close yourself off to me. Not in
any way.”

He cracked the paddle across the middle of her ass and more
lightly onto the back of each thigh.

“Spread for me.”

The whispered command barely broke through the web of
sensual euphoria she was wrapped in.

“Now,” he demanded. Firm, steady pressure from the hand on
her thigh opened her until her legs quivered from the strain. “Excellent,” he
said, shifting his hand to encompass her entire right ass cheek. The light
contact of his big palm minutely dissipated the fire he’d so diligently built,
but not the radiating pleasure. His fingers gripped her pliant flesh, spread
and lifted.

“Beautiful.” A stream of warm breath rolled over her
sensually abused flesh and over her swollen sensitized lower lips. She didn’t
care what he saw, what she looked like. All she cared about was getting
something inside her pussy. It didn’t matter what, as long as it was thick,
hard and all the way in. She couldn’t tolerate any teasing. Not now.

The next sensation she felt was a gentle probe at the mouth
of her cunt. Not his cock. Not his finger. It felt like leather. No, he
wouldn’t. Would he? Of course he would.

She groaned. Levered up on the balls of her feet. “Please,
Pierce. Oh God, please.”

Pierce smiled at the sound of her breathy desperation. He’d
brought her to this. Made her beg. Would do it again and again.

“What is it you want, babe? Is it more of this?” He shoved
the paddle’s handle farther in, adding a little rotation. Stopped.

“No! Damn you. More. I need more.”

Could a man ever look down on a lovelier sight? Heather’s
blazing-red ass in the air. Legs quivering under the pressure of keeping them
open. Plump, pink flesh, glistening with her sweet juices. He nearly caved. Had
to fight his desire to toss the paddle aside and instead of stuffing her with
an inanimate object ramming his steel hard dick into her primed cunt.

“You have no idea what the sight of you like this does to
me. A less controlled man would do something about it.”

“I don’t care what you do. Just do something. Anything.
Please.” The last word was tacked on in a breathy rush.

Pierce grinned at the barely suppressed command in her
voice. His demanding little brat had a lot to learn. Were she not new to this,
he’d back off now. Punish her for her impudence and excessive talking. Deny her
release. But all the wriggling friction against his straining cock was nearly
tearing him to pieces. If he didn’t give her what she wanted soon, he’d come in
his jeans. And that was absolutely not going to happen.

A steady sure push and he seated the handle all the way in.
It was knobbed at the end, thicker, but still nowhere near as big as his dick.
Or some of the other toys he planned to use on her in the days to come. But
he’d learned long ago that although size
did
matter, technique was as
important. And he was very skilled at applying whatever object found its way
into his hands.

“Yes!” Her body arched before partially wilting in relief at
finally getting what she’d wanted.

Unfortunately for her, wilting was not what
he
wanted. He plied the tool with a proficiency born from years of practice until
her entire body was strung tight. A beautiful visual for the impending orgasm
she was striving toward.

He slowed.

She whimpered.

He had no intension of denying her this time, merely
building tension.

When she began shoving back into his strokes, her sharp
nails digging into his ankle, her other hand probably wreaking havoc on the
chair leg, he increased his strokes, making sure to add downward pressure on
each withdrawal, aimed at hitting her sweet spot.

When her orgasm hit, her body convulsed. Her raw scream
putting every window in the room at risk of shattering. Very well might have if
not made of tempered glass.

He kept the handle buried within her depths, her clenching
muscles assuring it stayed deeply embedded as he enjoyed the view of her
contracting pussy. All the time, thinking how wonderful it would feel to have
those muscles contracting around his dick when he was buried deep inside her
hot, wet cunt.

When her body sagged against him, he slowly pulled the
handle out, enjoying her tiny whimpers as he raked through overly sensitive
tissue. Coated with the evidence of her orgasm, at any other time, he would’ve
taunted her with the sight, had her suck and lick it clean, maybe even done it
himself, but not today. He dropped the paddle to the floor and gently flipped
her toward him.

She immediately clamped her legs shut, curled them into her
body and burrowed against his chest.

For long, long moments, she didn’t talk and he didn’t
encourage conversation. He knew what she was experiencing and was happy to
clutch her to his chest. Allow her to enjoy a gradual descent from the fierce
orgasm racking her soft curvy body. An expert on female reactions, he doubted
she’d ever had an orgasm as intense. He was hell-bent on seeing it was not a
singular occurrence. Not even the most intense she’d experience while she
belonged to him.

Poor naïve baby. She’d no idea what she’d let herself in for
by allowing him carte blanche over her body.

He kissed the top of her head.

Her contented sigh floated over his chest. His nipple
tightened. It felt good.
She
felt damn good. Against his chest. In his
arms. More fucking right than anything he could readily remember.

Jesus. He’d have to be careful. Staunchly guard his
emotions. If not, his little brat could worm her way into his heart, bore in so
deep there’d be no getting her out.

And what a disastrous mistake that would be for a man who
was dead set against tying himself to any one female.

Heather’s eyes fluttered open to be greeted by a
contemplative clear-green gaze.

Wrapped in the warm cocoon of Pierce’s large body, she
covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. “You let me fall asleep?”

“Figured you needed it. That was quite the orgasm you had.”
A self-satisfied smile twitched at the corners of his kissable mouth.

Homed in on his full lips and never one to waste an
opportunity, she curled a hand around his neck and pulled his head down for a
long, no-hurry kiss. She engaged his tongue with hers and settled in for some
divine exploration.

He was the first to pull away. “Don’t start something
I’m
not ready to finish. It’s time to get something to eat.”

She leaned back into the strong cradle of his arm and
strolled her fingertips over the hills and ravines of his wide chest. They
didn’t have to leave this cozy chair for him to get something to eat. “What if
I’m
ready?”

He chucked her beneath the chin. “Your time will come.” He
pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Sure it would, but she doubted it’d be any time soon. She
could tell by the wicked gleam in his eyes he wasn’t anywhere near ready to
release control.

He rose, giving her no option but to do the same.

Clasping her hand, he bent to retrieve the paddle from
beside the chair. A single tug had her moving alongside him, through the
enormous archway, past the staircase and turning right down a long hall. Their
bare feet made no sound on the plank flooring as they traversed past two other
rooms. The first, an open formal dining room with its long table that could
easily fit twenty. The second room had hefty solid cherry paneled doors,
securely shut. Perhaps a study? They continued onward to the big country
kitchen at the back of the house.

Raised around builders all of her life, she couldn’t help
but get absorbed in the tiniest architectural details and dissect their
components.

Pierce had to add an additional tug when she paused at the
kitchen’s entrance. The entire time he kept her moving, she craned her neck
this way and that.

“It’s…it’s…” She couldn’t find a word strong enough for the
expert blend of country and modern. Like the extra-long solid-wood table topped
with a thick layer of sepia-tinted glass that he stopped in front of.

“Like it?”

“What woman except a fanatic
wouldn’t-catch-me-dead-in-a-kitchen wouldn’t? This is a professional chef’s
dream.” It boasted the most modern appliances camouflaged by high-end woods,
the entire space loaded with beautiful detailing down to the color-coordinated
and intricately patterned tiled floor.

“Good. Now, sit your tail on the table and I’ll whip us up
something for lunch.”

Heather shook her head. He must’ve said sit by, not on. She
shrugged and pulled out a chair.

He turned from the sink where he was soaping the handle of
the paddle and glanced over his shoulder. “Are you hankering for another
spanking so soon? That’s not what I said.”

“I thought—”

“Don’t second-guess me. If you’re not sure about something,
need further guidance or help, ask. It’ll save your ass some wear and tear in
the future.” He shot her a devilish wink.

She slid the chair aside to give her room to maneuver.

“Come on, brat. Put that high IQ of yours to work. On
this
side. Where I can see you. Once you’re settled, spread those nice trim thighs.
Let’s call it a little compensation for taking such good care of you,” he said
and returned to his task.

She walked around the table. Sure, she was comfortable
exposing every inch of her body to him in the throes of a sexual encounter, but
putting herself on display during the normal course of the day would take a bit
of getting used to.

Moving two chairs aside, she turned her back to the table,
anchored her palms on the top and boosted herself up.