To Sir (26 page)

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Authors: Rachell Nichole

Tags: #BDSM; Multicultural

BOOK: To Sir
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She scrambled off the bed and yanked open the bottom drawer. A satin pouch lay atop the clothes she never wore. He’d known where to hide it so she wouldn’t find it without his help. She opened the satin sheath and gasped. Palming the large toy in one hand and carrying the satin bag in the other, she climbed back into bed. She set both down beside her and grabbed her phone.

What is this thing?

It’s called a pleasure wand. You’ll like it. Promise. Undress for me, sweetheart. Nice and slow.

Grumbling, she complied. She didn’t want nice and slow. She wanted hard and fast and
now
. But he wasn’t here to give it to her, damn it. Three days without sex should have been no issue. Hell, she’d gone three
years
without it. But it seemed an eternity had passed since Sunday, and she was yearning for release. For his touch.

Naked and waiting, Sir.

With each text, her desire grew, her already slick folds pulsing with hunger.

Are you wet for me, sweetheart?

Dripping, Sir.

Good. Turn it on. And put it in.

She found the switches on the long purple handle. The end had a large bulb, flat on one side but rounded on the other. The rest was a smooth wand like other vibrators she’d seen or played with. She turned it on, and the strength of vibration buzzed all the way up her arm. Wow. She was already so wet she didn’t need any lubricant, so she slowly slipped it in, imagining it was Chase between her thighs. It went in easily, stretching as it went. The vibration made her thighs and sheath clench. She leaned back against the pillows, grabbing for her phone.

In, Sir. And feeling delicious.
She moaned.

Good girl. Turn it on higher, then play with your nipples. Pinch them. Hard. Like I would. But do not come. Do you hear me? You are not allowed to come until I call you.

She read the text and groaned. It seemed he didn’t need her to come up with her own punishment. God, she didn’t know if she could last. She wouldn’t be able to hide it from him if she came either. He would know. He’d played the
don’t come until I tell you to
card before. But always when he was right there with her, judging how close she was, bringing her to the brink and backing her down again and again until she couldn’t take any more. How would he know now? What if he got distracted at work and couldn’t call?

She reached between her thighs to the switch and turned it. The vibration inside her increased, and she cried out. Holy hell, it was almost painful, so strong she could barely stand it, and it pressed right on the most sensitive spot inside her. Somehow he’d known it would be just enough for her without being too much.

I turned it up, Sir. Already moaning. Gasping. Pulsing. Hands heading to nipples now.

Good. Keep them there
, came the quick reply. She grabbed her nipples hard and twisted.

“Oh, fuck!” She pinched and plumped and twisted, increasing the pressure steadily until that sweet bite of pain shot from her nipples right down to her sex. Her thighs and abdomen tightened, straining. She bit her lip, gasping, trying to hold on. She couldn’t come yet. Damn it, where was he? She quaked, quivering, begging aloud for him to let her come even though he wasn’t there.

Finally, when she was ready to cry, could feel the moisture at the creases of her eyes, her phone rang. She released a nipple to hit the speakerphone button, groaning.

“Are you coming?” he demanded. She could hear the faint pounding of music around him. God, he was in the main area of the club, probably around the bar. And he was asking her such questions?

“Not yet, Sir,” she managed to strangle out between breaths. Her brain hummed, her body on fire.

“Good girl. Touch your clit. Play with it until you come for me, sweetheart. Let me hear you come for me. Now.”

“Oh, God. Chase.” She yanked down on a nipple, slipping her other hand between her slick folds to her clit. She flicked it hard and exploded, screaming, writhing, tears trickling down her cheeks. Her sheath clenched hard, spasming around her new favorite object, bathing it and her hand in hot liquid.

His chuckle was low and dangerous beside her. Smug. “Good girl. Now get cleaned up. And Go. To. Sleep.”

She couldn’t form a reply. Pleasure still coursed through her body.

“Liz?”

She made a strangled noise.

“Maintenance check. Now.”

“Still coming, Sir. I think.”

Her body was weak. Her muscles quivered. She released her clit and her nipple, turning on her side and curling into a ball. The movement made the smooth wand inside her slip a little deeper. She cried out as her body shook, another orgasm rippling through her. “Mmmm.”

“God, you
are
still coming,” he said, groaning. “How much more can you take?”

“I dunno,” she mumbled.

“How many was that?”

“Two,” she moaned. “Maybe three.”

He growled. “Again,” he demanded.

She shifted, moving the vibrator out of her pulsing body and back in, changing the angle.

“There was something else in the bag,” he said, his voice hoarse and straining. “Get it.”

That was how he sounded right before he came. Music still crooned softly in the background, so she knew he was in the club’s main area. Would he come solely from the sound of her voice? A thrill shot through her as she reached blindly for the bag, pulling out a small bullet.

“Got it,” she whispered, unable to catch her breath.

“Put it on your clit and turn it on.”

“I—”

“Do. It,” he demanded. The command made her arch her back, chasing that next orgasm inches out of her reach. She placed the cool metal against her clit and pushed the button on the attached remote.

“Ah, oh, oh,” she keened. Her hips thrust hard, and she had to hold the bullet against her clit as her hips moved. Then she was spreading her legs wide and moving the wand in and out of her sheath. She screamed. The orgasm tore through her body, shaking her to the core. Tears streamed freely down her face, and she didn’t care. “I’m coming!”

He groaned on the other end of the line, panting.

“Fuck. Oh, Chase. Baby, no more. Please, no more.” Sobs racked her body.

“Shh, sweetheart. It’s okay. It’s all right. You can stop now.”

With trembling fingers, she shut off both devices and removed them from her body. She sniffed, wiping tears away with the back of her hand. Her body felt broken. Even her bones ached. Every muscle burned, including some she hadn’t realized she had. She slumped, lifeless, against the pillows, her brain fuzzy, the edges of her vision wavering.

“Best present ever,” she whispered. Her voice was so quiet she didn’t know if he heard her, but she couldn’t work up enough energy to really speak yet.

“Liz?”

“Hmmm?” She hiccuped, another sob rattling her.

“Sweetheart, oh, shit, are you crying?”

She took a few unsteady breaths. “Yes.”

The music died, and she heard the slam of a door. “Damn it. Are you okay?” The concern in his voice warmed her, soothing her aches the same way his fingers did after a rough session.

She rubbed her face on the pillowcase, her brain slowly coming back to life and functioning normally. “Yeah.” She swallowed, trying to bring moisture to her mouth. “I think I need a drink. A hard one.”

He chuckled. “You amaze me. Did you know that?”

She beamed. “I don’t think I can move.”

“So don’t,” he said reasonably.

She laughed and heard the door on his end click shut again, then the soft music. He’d gone back out into the bar area. “Did you, um…” She couldn’t ask. She was still too high on the chemicals flooding her bloodstream. Still too far inside the scene and her own head to ask him boldly if he’d come too.

“Come?”

“Yeah.”

“I most definitely did.”

She laughed. “I have to get up.”

“Why?”

“Because the bed is soaked.”

He groaned. “Damned fucking Dusty. I’m going to kill him when I see him.”

She giggled. Yup, actually giggled. “Everyone deserves a night off.”

“I know,” he grumbled. “I just wish I’d been there to see the fireworks firsthand, you know? Four times within twenty minutes. That’s a record even for us.”

She grinned. “I know. And let me tell you, the show was incredible.”

“So, when you say the bed is soaked, you mean…”

“Literally soaked. As in I’m going to have to get up and pull the sheets and blankets off and put them in the hamper and make sure the mattress isn’t wet.”

“He’s a dead fucking man.”

“Uh-huh.” They both knew it was an empty threat. The three of them had gone out to dinner last week, and she’d seen Chase interact with Dusty. Theirs was the kind of bond, the kind of family connection she’d never had, and she loved that Chase had someone like that in his life. It would be helpful to him when…

She stopped that thought in its tracks, but not fast enough. Thinking about the inevitable end of their relationship snapped her head right out of any subspace afterglow she’d been awash in.

“I think I can move now,” she said, hoping her tone didn’t betray what she’d been thinking about.

“Good. Get cleaned up and rest. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

“Oh, and Elizabeth?” His tone was harsh.

“Yes, Sir?”

“No more breaks. Not unless you’re going to add another week onto our deal. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. Good night, sweetheart,” he said softly.

She sighed and ended the call.

Chapter Fifteen

Liz settled back into her role as submissive over the next few days, feeling more secure in her position now that Chase had punished and forgiven her. Besides, he seemed to get off at least a little on her refusal to cede him complete control, and she did so enjoy his punishments. The balancing act of power and control they were performing was electrifying. Her book was sitting in Sophia’s in-box, and she was going to reward herself with a night out. And while she knew they only had two weeks left together, she wanted to make the most of them.

He was still a bit reserved, not baring his soul to her the way he wanted her to do for him. Despite that, he was proving to be a safe space. A place where she could let herself go and be the one someone was taking care of instead of the other way around. It was nice.

Now, as she stood at the foot of the bed, inspecting the outfits Chase had brought for her to choose from, a thrill shot through her. They were going to the club together. Where she would be his submissive. All night long. She shivered.

“Are you sure these are my
only
options?”

“Yup,” he said, grinning.

That smug smile of his made her want to hit something. Preferably him. But he’d retaliate. Actually…

“I can see that glimmer in your eyes. Don’t do it.” He advanced on her, turning her and slipping his arm between her elbows and back, holding her captive and sliding a leg between hers.

“Do what?” she asked innocently.

“Whatever naughty little thing you were thinking about a second ago.”

“Or what?” she goaded.

“Or I will punish you,” he said darkly. She tensed, her head already swimming with the possibilities, her body humming with the first influx of excitement. “Onstage.”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” he challenged. Oh, crap. He was serious. She stiffened in his arms, and he inhaled. “Liz?” he asked. He didn’t have to say
maintenance check
. She could tell by his tone that was what he was asking.

“Which outfit would you prefer, Sir?”

He chuckled in her ear, his hot breath caressing down her neck before he placed a soft kiss below her earlobe. Then he released her and reached for the black corset with small red bows and matching lace thong. He turned and presented it to her.

Biting her lips, she nodded.

“That’s my girl.”

And with each passing day, she felt more and more like
his
girl. She was in big trouble. He reached for her with one hand and started stripping off her street clothes. Then he was leading her into the bathroom. She followed silently. He turned on the water and lifted her into the tub. She obeyed his orders, sitting or kneeling in the tub while he washed and rinsed her hair, then her body with long, lingering strokes.

He grabbed her shaving cream and razor. Ah, hell. What was he doing? He handed her the razor, standing outside the shower with a devilish gleam in his eyes. He squirted the gel into his hands and lathered it into a white froth. Then he leaned toward her, slathering her dark tuft of curls with the cream. He rinsed his fingers and raised his eyebrows at her.

He wanted her to shave?
There?
While he watched. She gulped, debating. She took a deep breath and made herself think hard about this. He was asking her with a tilt of his head. “All of it?” she asked.

He nodded.

She’d never done that before. What would it feel like, being completely bare and exposed there? She was intrigued but unsure she could do it.

Her face flamed, embarrassment and desire warring within her. He waited, patiently gazing into her eyes and letting her decide. Like he always did. Honestly, the man had more patience than a toddler teacher.

She handed him the razor, and he couldn’t hide the flicker of disappointment in his eyes.

“I can’t,” she said.

“Okay,” he said simply, lowering his gaze.

She smiled, and he shrugged. “But you can.”

His attention snapped back to her face. “Really?” he asked, the excitement in his voice palpable. The joy in his eyes made her heart soar. She loved that she could put that look there. Absolutely freaking
loved
it. There was power in submitting yourself to someone else’s will, she’d realized. And she figured she still owed him for pushing him away earlier this week. This would be her final act of repentance.

“Yes, Sir. Really,” she said, knowing the deferent title would be the icing on the cake.

Bliss lit his eyes as he stepped, fully dressed, into the shower. She laughed and leaned back against the wall as he bent over her. “Hold still.”

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