The Dom's Dungeon (10 page)

She closed
her eyes.

“No, look
at me, little cat.”

She could
feel his intense gaze on her, like warmth stroking over her face; she could
feel how he waited for her compliance. Her hands in fists, she opened her eyes.

“Good
girl.” His lips curved up in approval. “You told me you don't get aroused
because of something in your past.”

He waited
for her nod.

“Why did
that something make you frightened of your own response?”

Because whores don't feel.
Because johns don't care
.
Men paid for an available
body, not a responsive one. Because losing track of surroundings was a way to
get hurt. “I just don't like it.”

His eyes
crinkled even as he shook his head. “You do like it, little cat. But you don't
want to, because it scares you. There is a difference.” His warm hand stroked
over her breast again, and she was horrified to feel her nipple pucker and poke
into his palm. “What would happen if you didn't have any choice?
If you couldn't push my hands away or keep me from continuing?
You could only feel.”

The
thought shut off her breathing for a second. Not have any control? Fear filled
her even as heat seared through her veins, and her nipples tightened until they
actually hurt.

He nodded
as if she'd spoken. “Want and fear both. So how brave are you, little cat? Will
you let me take you further?”

Her body
urged for more. Her head said no, but she knew damned well that her head was
screwed up. How brave was she? She didn't think her body would ever, ever be
interested in sex again. Shouldn't she see…?
But what if I panic? What if I don't?
“All right,” she whispered.

God, how
could that approving smile of his make her feel so good inside?

He stroked
her cheek. “Brave little cat. Trust isn't easy for you, is it? Because you
don't fully trust me, we'll stay here in public. The club safe word is 'red.'
Do you understand what it's for?”

“Yes,
but—”

“Yes,
what?”
He frowned at her, recalling her to his rules.

“Yes,
Sir.”

“Good.” He
rose to his feet with her still in his arms.

“Hey!” She
wiggled. What was he going to do?

“You don't
have permission to speak, little cat. You may use your safe word if you need
to.” He walked across the room to a leather-covered table and laid her on it,
then whipped a strap over her ribs to hold her in place. She'd thought he meant
to control her by using his hands to hold her.
Like he had
been.

She
struggled to sit up, and he pressed her shoulders down.
“
MacKensie
.
We have a deal. If you became aroused, I
could continue, right?”

Heart
pounding, she sucked in air as she stared up at him. His hands were warm on her
shoulders, his eyes level.
Patient.
She had agreed.
She gave him a short nod.

“And you
agreed to submit to me, knowing what BDSM involved. You also agreed to continue
a minute ago.
Right?”

Oh God,
she had agreed. Okay, okay. This was just part of BDSM, and he wasn't paying
her.
I'm not a whore, just someone doing
kinky things
.
Kind of.
She nodded again.

“Good.” He
smiled slightly, cupping her cheek,
then
touched her
lips lightly with his. “I'm going to restrain you, little cat, because your
mind, for whatever reason, thinks you shouldn't do this and tells you to stop.
But I'm not going to stop, and there will be nothing you can do about it.”

Even as he
spoke, he pulled leather straps over her arms, her wrists. Then one across her
hips over her skirt. To her shock, he flipped her skirt up and wrapped a Velcro
cuff around her lower thigh. Bending her knee, he pushed her leg toward her
shoulder and clipped the thigh cuff right beside her wrist. He did the same on
the other side, and she lay on the table splayed open like a frog about to be
cut up.

What was
sexy about that? Yet the feeling of having her most intimate parts bared and
vulnerable sent a shiver through her. She could see a few people around the
edge of the scene area, watching.

Alex
chuckled and rubbed his knuckles over her cheek, pulling her attention back to
him. “Take a breath, sweetheart.”

She pulled
in a deep breath.

His eyes
were very blue and seemed to fill her whole vision. “Good.” He kissed her
again, gently, lightly, coaxing her to respond. When she did, he pulled back,
then
ran his hands up and down her torso to the tender
undersides of her breasts. To the nipples that had again started to pucker.
When he sucked on the nipples, the tightness turned into a tingling ache of
need.

Then she
heard someone in the crowd laugh, turned her head, and saw their faces. She
stiffened and made a useless attempt to move.

Alex
lifted his head and studied her for a second. “Little cat, do you trust me not
to leave you? Not for a second?”

Why was he
asking her that? But he didn't say more. She bit her lip. Would he stay with
her? Well, he'd saved her from that man and then held her. He hadn't abandoned
her. She'd seen that he had his own code of honor. “Yes, Sir,” she said.

“Ah.” He
smiled at her. “I like the trust I see growing. Now, I promise I won't hurt you
while you're restrained here on the table. Do you trust me to keep my word?”

A whore
learned to read people well. She usually knew when someone lied to her. He
wasn't lying.
“Yes, Sir.”
She swallowed. “What are you
going to do?”

“I'm going
to take a little more control from you,
MacKensie
. I
will ask you to keep your eyes closed.” From under the table, he lifted
headphones. “You won't be able to see or hear, just to feel my hands on your
body.
My mouth on your pussy.”

Her breath
hitched at the image.

“You have
your safe word, little cat. Now close your eyes.” She did. When the earphones
covered her ears, she heard the rhythmic sounds of the ocean: a low roar, then
hissing. All she could hear was the ocean; all she could see was black. Had he
left her? Her eyes popped open, and she looked right up into Alex's amused
face. Like he knew she'd panic.

She caught
a breath of Alex's rich aftershave just before his hand cupped her cheek, and
he kissed her, gently, coaxing the response he knew she could give. After a
minute, he lifted his head and touched her temple in an unspoken command.

Dammit
, she
wanted to be able to see.

He waited.

After
giving him a glare that made his lips quirk, she closed her eyes.

His mouth
covered hers again. As he toyed with her lips, nibbled on them, her anxiety
diminished. And after a minute, many minutes, he moved. She had a second of
panic. Then his hands touched her breasts, the feel of his slightly rough
fingers already familiar. His lips closed around one nipple, his tongue hot
against the sensitive tip as he sucked.

His mouth
withdrew.
Coolness over the wet nub, then…a pinching
sensation.
Not his fingers. The compression tightened right to the edge
of pain and didn't loosen.
A clamp
.
Like that other sub had worn. The steady pressure
created a sizzling river of sensation between her breast and her groin. His hot
mouth sucked on the other nipple, then the pressure again. The ache in her
pussy increased.

His hand
stroked down her stomach, trailing across the top of her skirt, then past and
over her bare leg. He'd moved to the foot of the table, she realized, as his
hands massaged her hips. When he stroked the exposed undersides of her thighs,
it brought home how high and wide he'd parted her knees, leaving her open.

She tried
to move her legs, and none of the straps gave, and the ocean rolled through the
darkness as his hands moved closer to where she ached.

His hand
pressed against her pussy for a second before stroking her thigh, leaving a wet
trail in its wake. His silent way of showing that she was aroused, and he could
continue. Oh
frak
, how could she want to run so badly
and yet be so excited?

He
returned to her pussy, a finger stroking through her folds. She kept waiting
for groping, for his hand to rub her crotch as if sanding wood.

He didn't.
Instead he used just a slickened fingertip, ever so slowly.
Featherlight
,
it circled her clit, clockwise, then counterclockwise, never actually touching
the aching nubbin of nerves. Her hips tried to push up, and the restraints held
her completely still as his finger circled, then stroked down through her
folds, making a figure eight, circling her opening, then up and around the
increasingly sensitive nerves and back down in a rhythm that rolled through her
like the ocean sounds rolled through her head.

She could
actually feel her pussy swelling, engorging with blood until the tissues became
painfully distended.
Until…

Something
touched her clit, right on top, a shocking warmth and wetness. She cried out,
and the waves drowned the sound; she could only feel as his tongue stroked over
her, lapping one side, then the other.
Right over the top.

A seething
tension grew inside her with every maddening, burning repetition.

He
stopped, and then she felt something prodding at her opening. She drew in a
breath, the muscles in her legs tightening. She knew this feeling. He was going
to fuck her now, shove his cock in and—

It slid
in, and she pulled in a breath at the exquisite feel of him sliding through her
sensitive, swollen tissues. Her hands closed on the edge of the bench as the
in-and-out movements sent her higher.

Then his
cock somehow doubled in size, and his mouth came down on her clit again.

The
piercing shock flamed through her. Her back arched, jostling the nipple clamps
and sending electric sizzles to her pussy where his tongue flicked over her
clit and his—not his cock, she realized with a startled breath—his fingers. He
had his fingers in her and was pumping them slowly in and out as his tongue
stroked her up and down.

The pace
slowly increased, as did the wet pressure over her clit. His tongue drew an
agonizing line of heat up one side as his fingers pushed deeper into her.

The
sensations from his mouth and her insides merged, forming one desperate bundle
of nerves.
Another stroke of his tongue and slide of his
fingers.
Each ruthless touch sent her higher. The muscles in her vagina
contracted until they ached, and her fingers scrabbled at the table as she
tried to arch higher to his mouth. Needing, needing…

His tongue
flicked directly on top of her clit.

The
coiled-up ecstasy released as if launched from a cannon, shooting heat and
pleasure through her in shattering spasms until her toes curled and her neck
arched.

He licked
over her again.
And again.
His fingers thrust deeply
inside her, and her pussy clamped around him. She shuddered as more waves of
pleasure broke over her helpless body.

When the
fingers inside her could no longer elicit a quiver, he patted her thigh, and
she felt the strap fall away. He did the other restraint and lowered her legs.
For a minute, he massaged her aching muscles, and then he closed her thighs
over her wet, swollen pussy, making her moan.

When he
pulled the earphones off, all the noise of the club burst over her like a storm
of sound.

“Look at
me now,
MacKensie
.”

She opened
her eyes and stared into a gaze of molten blue. He stroked her hair back from
her face, his lips curving in a faint smile.

He would
want to get off very badly by now, she realized. He needed to take her, and
she'd let him. He deserved it.

“I got
off,” she whispered, as if he didn't know. But she still couldn't believe it.
Or what it had felt like, like the boundaries of her universe had expanded in
the chaos of coming.

He
nodded,
his expression solemn, only a hint of laughter in
his eyes. “I know.”

She
started to move and realized that her arms remained strapped down. “Why don't
you release me?”

The dimple
in his cheek grew as if he was smothering a laugh, and his eyes glinted.
“Remember how I said I wouldn't hurt you?”

She
nodded. A tremor moved through her body as she thought about all the whips and
canes being used in this place.

“Well, I
won't. But removing the breast clamps…might.” And he undid the one on the left.

As blood
surged back into the pinched nipple, nerves fired.
Painfully
.
Her arms strained
against the straps as she tried to touch the pain. And couldn't.