Bind (25 page)

She put down her glass, untouched. “Your requests continue to get more outrageous.”

“Unless you want to be naked when the pizza delivery person arrives, I suggest you get on with it.”

“I’m not quite sure what to do.”

“The next time we have phone sex, I want to be able to picture what you’re doing,” he said. “Do what you normally do.”

“When you mentioned before that you wanted to watch me, you threatened to provide pointers.”

“Don’t think I won’t.”

Lara stood then pulled off her dress and draped it over the arm of the chair. Her bra and panties matched, but today she’d chosen briefs. Though he generally preferred skimpy lingerie, he appreciated how classy they looked as well as how nicely she filled them out.

Swaying a little to the classic love song, she reached back and unfastened her bra. As the chilled air whispered over her skin, he watched her nipples tighten.

He expected her to shimmy out of her panties, but she didn’t. Instead she cupped her breasts, pushing them together, lifting them. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head and let her hair fall down her back. He could imagine coming home to this every night.

His cock stirred.

Determined not to be focused on his own needs, he propped one knee on the opposing leg then picked up his glass of wine.

While still holding her breasts cupped together, she rolled her nipples, then pulled on them like he might, hard, then harder.

He looked away to take a drink.

She sighed so softly, he wasn’t sure he’d actually heard it. But she made the same sound again when she twisted her nipples.

“You like that?” he asked.

“I do.”

“Don’t stop.” He went to the playroom for a pair of lightweight nipple clamps. “You’ll like these,” he said when he returned.

“I used clothespins a couple of times, but I hated them when they twisted.”

“These won’t do that.” They were alligators, joined by a lightweight chain. They wouldn’t stand up to a lot of tugging, but for extra pressure while she was masturbating, they’d probably be ideal. “May I?”

She held her breasts for him, and he couldn’t resist the opportunity to squeeze her nipples, loving the feel of her flesh between his fingers. Emboldened from the way he’d seen her torment them, he gave a much more brutal twist.

“Oh, Sir.” She moaned, actually pulling away to increase the pressure.

He smelled her arousal.

“My clit is throbbing,” she admitted.

“So’s my dick.”

She looked at him, at his crotch. Unexpectedly, she reached for him. “It is,” she said, stroking him.

“Hands off,” he warned.

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll withhold your orgasm.”

“I’d prefer a spanking,” she said.

“I’d prefer to give you a spanking, too, but it’s not happening unless you’re very well behaved.”

Reluctantly, she pulled back her hand.

He took hold of her right nipple, pulled on it then held it while he put a clamp in place. “If you want more of a bite, you can put it closer to the tip.”

“This is good,” she told him.

He placed the second one, then stepped back. “Not only are they effective, they’re quite beautiful on you.”

She shrugged and stretched to test them. “I like them. I may have to get a pair.”

“They’re yours.”

“Thank you.”

The song transitioned into something a bit more up-tempo.

Without him saying anything, she licked her finger then slid it in beneath her panties. She moved her hand back and forth and rocked onto the balls of her feet as she moved her hand quicker and quicker.

When he was sure she was going to orgasm, she swayed to a stop then slowly drew down her underwear before using her toes to pick them up and drop the fabric in his lap.

Maybe forty-five minutes wasn’t enough time for this.

She sat on the edge of the coffee table then brought up her legs. Casting a sly glance at him out of the corner of her eye, she leaned back and parted her thighs, giving him a view of her glistening cunt.

Even though the clips were on her breasts, she still squeezed her nipples and alternated that with plumping her pussy lips, sliding fingers between her labia. As he watched, she drew back the hood of her clit, showing off that that swollen bundle of nerves. He was tempted to smack it, lick it, anything just to get her off and put him out of his misery.

Not just from the sight of her pleasuring herself, this woman was getting to him. Days ago, he’d told her that he wanted to be able to imagine her masturbating when they had phone sex. Now he knew that he’d never get anything done if he thought about it at all.

She continued the motions, pinching her tits, touching her pussy, sliding inside herself.

He loosened his tie even more.

“I’m waiting, Sir. Did you want to give me any hints?” she teased.

That was it.

He moved quick, grabbing her up, pulling her over his lap.

“Connor!” She squealed.

He blazed his hands on her buttocks while she sought purchase with her feet and hands. The chain swayed toward the floor, and her cry of shock became one of demand.

“I’ve got to have…”

He gave her what she didn’t have words for, completion, raining smacks on her buttocks, a few on her upper thighs, a couple above her knees.

In silent demand, she parted her legs, and he arrowed two fingers into her cunt then forcefully pulled them back, repeatedly fucking her.

She pushed her toes against the floor, changing the angle of her hips and letting him in farther.

“Oh… God. Please. I’m going to come.”

Before she’d finished speaking, he felt her vaginal walls clench. He moved his hand slightly so he could find her G-spot, and once he had, he pressed it.

She came, her orgasm dampening his fingers.

He’d never known anything so sublimely erotic.

Her chest heaved, and he left her there for a short while before turning her over. “You did a damn fine job, little Lara.”

“Does that make me a master masturbator?”

“Let’s see what other skills you have.”

She pushed away a little and asked, “What did you have in mind?”

He pulled off his tie and dropped it next to them on the couch.

“Mmm,” she said.

Without being asked, she unfastened his buttons, not stopping until they were all open and she had her hands on his chest.

“Condom, in the nightstand,” he said.

“I’ll get one.” She nodded and slid off his lap.

She took a step and swayed slightly, then put her forearm under her breasts—likely to stop the clips from swaying. They’d been on there long enough for her to really feel them, but she didn’t protest.

He stood and undressed. “Put it on me,” he instructed when she returned.

Lara, in her naked, clamped glory, knelt in front of him.

Instead of tearing the packet, she reached for him, closing her hand around his shaft and moving in full strokes that made him even harder.

Then she took him in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head before pressing it to the tender, most sensitive part underneath.

He pulled on her hair and she continued to lick and suck him, drawing him deep. “You’re damn sexy, little Lara.”

She moaned against his glans, and the resulting sensation almost made him come.

Connor rocked his hips, pushing himself into her mouth, and she knelt up and took more.

As he went deeper, tears streamed down her face, smearing her mascara. He’d never been more aroused. “I want to be in your cunt,” he said.

For a few seconds, she continued, while looking up at him through her lashes.

“I’m warning you,” he said, voice gruff.

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered after she’d eased back.

She managed to tear the packet then pull out the lubricated latex. Watching her roll the condom down his cock kept him turned on.

He sat on the couch and helped her up before settling her over his lap, facing him.

Lara moved a hand between him to help guide his cock into her wet and willing pussy.

“I like having you in me, Sir,” she said. She sank all the way down and exhaled a breathy sigh before holding onto his shoulders.

“Wait.” He reached over and picked up his tie. “Hands behind you.”

She adjusted her position, pushing off, working her hips backward so she could support her weight. Each motion made him even hotter for her.

He reached around her to secure her wrists with the silk tie. “Tight enough?”

She pulled against the fabric, and that caused her to arch, forcing her breasts out more. The chain attached to her nipple clamps swung gently.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Now ride me, girl.” He put his hands on her hips to guide her, and she rocked to and fro, lifting up, allowing herself to drift down.

“You feel bigger this way. Deeper.”

They moved together, building a forceful rhythm.

“Yes, yes,” she said. “So hard. So good.”

He lifted her higher, brought her down harder.

“Sir!”

“Yeah,” he said. “Come. Squeeze my dick.”

Her legs began to tremble. He reached up to yank off the alligators and she screamed, pitching forward, clamping down on his shaft.

Her orgasm drove his, and he ejaculated, the pulse of each stream making him jerk. She stayed where she was, as if immobilized, and he continued to push up inside her for several more seconds.

Finally, tension left her body.

She rested her head on his shoulder. “I had no idea.”

He hadn’t, either.

Because he’d never spent this much time with a woman, he hadn’t known what it was like to be constantly intrigued by someone so eager. Not just any woman, but a submissive one.

He held her for a bit. While he’d always enjoyed giving aftercare, until her, it hadn’t felt so essential.

He removed her silken bond, and she put her hands on either side of his face. “How are your nipples?” he asked.

“Sore.” She looked at him, and there was a wry twist to her lips. “That was mean.”

“If they had been a different type of clamp, maybe,” he replied. “Those are lightweight, and they came off easily.”

“In your opinion,” she countered.

“Made you climax.”

She sought a response, wrinkling her nose. “There is that.”

He juggled her off his lap and put his hands on her waist to support her until she found her footing.

The doorbell rang from the lobby.

“Pizza,” a voice said when he answered.

“That was fast.”

Lara scooped up her clothes and scampered toward the bedroom while he quickly disposed of the condom and yanked his pants on then buzzed the guy up.

When she returned, he inhaled the faint scent of magnolias, and her hair was piled on top of her head. Her skin was slightly damp and she had on one of his long-sleeved shirts. She’d rolled up the sleeves and secured the cuffs above her elbows. The top button was open, and she’d skipped the bottom two, as well.

Since the material didn’t appear to be starched, he guessed she’d grabbed the shirt from the dry-cleaning bag. “You could have chosen an unworn one,” he said.

“This one smelled like you.”

Everything in his body became slow-moving. He looked at her a second time. “You’re not wearing any undergarments.”

“No, Sir. I’m not.”

God help him.

He deliberately focused on dinner. Anything other than the sensual daze she’d plunged him into.

When he’d insisted she move in with him, he hadn’t thought through everything that would be involved. He’d figured out how to share the closet and the bathroom and mentally sorted through the logistics of sharing an office. But he hadn’t considered the small, intimate moments such as sharing a pot of coffee, a fine merlot, or deciding what to eat for dinner. He’d never imagined she’d put on his clothes, or that she’d look so fucking hot when she did.

He had the sensation that he was in emotional quicksand, and he’d walked in willingly.

“Where are the plates?” she asked.

When he didn’t respond right away, she drew her eyebrows together. “What? Seeing me half-naked is bothering you?” she asked, voice light with teasing.

“I may put you in a snowsuit,” he said.

“But then you won’t see my nipples, all hard from the scratchiness of your shirt.”

“Some Doms like to put electrical tape on their sub’s nipples.”

She gasped.

“Don’t push me, little Lara. I will find a way to avoid temptation.” Or maybe he’d skip that and just keep her tied up and fucked all day, every day. The second thought appealed to him most of all.

“Looks yummy,” she said, flipping open the lid of the pizza box. “You were in charge of the plates,” she reminded him.

“Plates,” he repeated, and she laughed.

He shook his head to clear his brain circuits and took down plates from a cabinet. Then he pulled a shaker of Parmesan cheese from the refrigerator and put it on the counter.

She scooped out a slice of the pizza for him then selected one for herself.

“Cheese?” he offered.

“No, thanks.” The box had several packets of crushed red pepper tucked inside. She picked up one, ripped it open, then she covered her entire slice with the spicy stuff.

“I wouldn’t be able to eat for a week if I did that.”

“They’re delicious. Lots of nutrients.”

“Sure.”

“No. Really. They have vitamin A”—she tipped her head to the side—“and anti-inflammatory properties.” Not waiting until they moved from the kitchen counter, she took a big bite, and her eyes instantly watered. “That one was hot.” She started to cough.

“CPR is not on the menu,” he cautioned.

“How about mouth-to-mouth?”

“That could be.”

She looked at the pizza then back at him. That made her laugh, and the combination of that with her coughing made him hurry to fetch her a small glass of milk.

“Drink.”

She downed it in two gulps, and the coughing stopped.

“Your milk mustache is attractive.”

She ripped off a square from the paper towel roll and immediately pressed it to her lips. After she pulled it back, she looked at it then glared at him. “There was no milk mustache.”