Bound to Please (13 page)

She tugged his hand, urging him to keep walking, talking. She did want to know this part of him.

“Tell me,” she said.

“Shit. Okay. Well, I just always liked being in charge, having control over someone, over their pleasure. At first I couldn’t believe I actually enjoyed inflicting pain on another person. But then I accepted how much they liked it and it fed me. I get off on making people get off, I guess. In music, in sex.”

She smiled. “So, big, bad rock star Mark St. Crow is really just a people pleaser at heart.”

“I can’t help it if it pleases some people to be spanked with a hairbrush, doll. I just do what I can.”

She was glad the dark night hid her blush. She coughed. “I bet. So five years ago you started getting into, uh, spanking people.”

“Yeah. We put out our first record, and our venues got bigger and bigger. Our band became more well known. Soon I had girls… er… well…”

“Go on.” She could take it. She
could
. This thing between them was temporary, and she was curious—and curiously turned on—to learn about his voyage into BDSM.

“Girls were everywhere. I could have sex ten times a day if I wanted to.”

“Hmm.”

“Do whatever I wanted to them.”

“Right.”

“They wouldn’t say no to
anything
.”

“I
get
it.” She pulled her wrap tighter around her shoulders.

“But straight sex wasn’t doing it for me, and more and more I realized it was the power exchange I craved.” His strong shoulders jerked a shrug. “I get off on it, of knowing I can bring someone total pleasure.”

“You really are confident in your abilities.”

“Haven’t had any complaints yet.” And he gave her that crooked, cocky smile.

They’d come to the end of the man-made path and now stood facing the ocean. In the distance, moonlight reflected an infinite pattern on the water and the waves roared against the cliffs, sounding as if the sea could rear up and suck them away.

After a moment, she said, “I love it when I plan a huge event and everything comes together. I look out in a crowd and see things running smoothly, and I know it’s because I left no detail ignored. It’s a rush. And when I… submit… I feel a similar kind of power, which is so strange to me. I don’t understand it, any of it.”

She saw him pull something shiny and metallic from his jeans pocket. It was a knife, and she watched as he quickly sliced through several vines of jasmine. He stood, holding the long strands in his hands.

“Why do you have to?”

“Understand my feelings? Because I want to know! I want to know what’s wrong with me that I like pain, that I like to be controlled.” She clutched her wrap in her fists. “It goes against everything I believe about myself.”

“Like?”

“Like, I don’t like to give up control, for one thing.”

“I know.”

“See? It’s so confusing.”

“Were you this confused with your ex? The bondage expert?”

Was it her imagination, or did he say those last two words with a slightly bitter edge?

“Not at the beginning,” she said. “But then yes. As things progressed, as I found myself more and more willing to do whatever he wanted. Then I started wanting him to do even more. And then…”

“What happened?”

“One day I found some other girl’s bra in the laundry.”

“What a dickhead.”

“Doesn’t matter. His first love will always be his art. Just like yours will always be your music. Women will always be secondary to guys like you, and, frankly, I look at the whole thing with Ash as one big close call.”

“Guys like me, huh?” He faced her. “So, you think there’s not room for both? Women and music?”

“Do you?”

“No.” He stepped closer. “But this is about you. I see your problem now.”

“What?”

He took her chin in his fingers. They smelled like jasmine and melted butter.

“You’re scared of letting go, afraid of getting your heart broken.” He leaned closer, his lips a breath away from hers. “That’s why you resist your deepest desires. It’s the ultimate vulnerability, right?” His gaze dropped to the pendant at her throat. “But you love to be ruled, don’t you? You’d get on your knees for me right now if I wanted you to.”

“Probably,” she said against his lips. “Even though I know I shouldn’t.”

He licked her bottom lip, his tongue sweeping slowly, lovingly, over her skin. Now she smelled the jasmine and tasted the butter on Mark’s lips. A shudder went through her.

“And yet here you are,” he said finally, his breath warm against her mouth, still damp from his kiss. “Trembling for me.”

“I’m obviously out of my head.”

“Not yet. But give me a few minutes.”

“You are such a cocky bastard.” But she was smiling, and then she was kissing him, holding him to her. All this talk should have calmed her down, but admitting her most intimate thoughts to him only made her feelings for him stronger, made her body’s response to him more erotic.

She was so, so fucked.

But she’d already gone this far, and she knew there was no turning back, at least not tonight. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she’d try to get back to normal. Now, she just wanted to feel his solid flesh against hers, wanted to taste his skin. Everywhere.

Smiling, she pulled away. Then she dropped to her bottom and flung her legs over the side of the cliff. He looked startled, as if he thought she was about to jump over the edge.

She looked up at him. “Don’t worry, you haven’t made me suicidal quite yet. This may look like a dangerous ravine, but it is, in fact, a way down to the beach.”

He eyed the overlook with a doubtful expression.

Sliding her sandals off her feet, she hooked the ankle straps with her index finger. “You’re not scared, are you, Mark?”

He peered into the narrow valley. “Should I be?”

“Come on, Mark,” she said as her bare feet hit the dirt. “Just trust me.”

Chapter
Eleven

S
ee? You’re fine,” Ruby said. But it was a ridiculous statement because halfway down he’d picked her up and carried her the rest of the way. Now he placed her on her feet in the sand.

“You would have broken your neck.” He bent down to unlace his boots then tugged them, along with his socks, off his feet.

“No way.” She threw her sandals next to his discarded boots. “I know that path like the back of my hand.”

“That was not a path. That was a cliff,” he said, straightening. In the dark he looked stronger somehow, the moonlight emphasizing his sharp jaw and long, lean limbs.

When he’d picked her up to carry her he’d draped the jasmine vines around her neck and now he pulled them, tugging her toward him so he could lower his mouth to hers.

She could kiss him all night, but she pulled away, running ahead along a small creek, the vines falling away behind her. She had a destination in mind, and she knew Mark would follow her lead.

Tucked away, the little cove was dominated by a huge cypress tree, its limbs grandly sweeping the area like protective arms. And it was fitting because she’d always felt safe here; when she was growing up, it had been her little private spot. And now she was here for the first time in years, with Mark.

The soft breeze of the ocean washed over her in a salty caress that made her skin tingle, and the sound of the sea pounding the shore roared in her ears. The sand felt like a thousand little massages on the soles of her feet.

When she reached the dark shadows of the cove, she turned.

He approached slowly, picking up the vines she’d discarded and tying them together as he walked. His feet were pale in the moonlight.

He closed the distance between them, leaned down and kissed her. Slowly, he leisurely ran his tongue inside her bottom lip, then pushed deeper. Everything faded as she fell into him, into this kiss. Desire crashed into her as the waves crashed against the shore. Her pussy went moist, her breasts felt heavy.

When he pulled back she was panting. “Don’t stop…”

“Take off your dress for me, baby.”

She didn’t even hesitate. They were in public; anyone out for a stroll could see them in this little cove if they really looked. But Ruby didn’t care. She’d used dessert to pleasure herself in the dining room of the Ritz. What was a little public nudity after that?

And she trusted Mark to take care of her. The realization hit her that she was willing to put her own safety in his hands; had she ever trusted anyone so much before? The answer frightened her.

She began unbuttoning her dress. Her fingers shook slightly but she made quick work of it. Soon she had the top half open, and she pulled the dress over her head, tossed it into the sand.

The chilly air hit her skin, bare except for her lacy bra. She shivered.

“Take off your bra, Ruby girl.”

Reaching behind her, she unhooked the clasp. Soon her bra was tossed on top of her dress and she stood there before him, naked. He hadn’t even removed his leather jacket.

“You make me so fucking hot, Ruby.”

She felt her nipples harden into tight little beads as a gentle breeze drifted over her skin. Or was it his words that had her body responding so intimately?

He raked his gaze over her. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to keep control around you.”

“Then don’t,” she said.

As he took a step toward her, she thought she saw a rueful smile on his face. “Not an option.”

“You’re always in control.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” He took both her hands in his, pressed the insides of her wrists together. He still held the jasmine vines, and as he wrapped one of them around her wrists the tiny white flowers released their pungent scent. The fragrance was exhilarating, and she inhaled deeply.

The vine he used was about five feet long, and she watched, fascinated, as he tied a knot around her wrists. The jasmine reflected the moonlight in an ethereal glow, the leaves soft and dark against her pale skin. Being bound in something so beautiful took her breath away.

He finished his knot, leaving himself about two feet of vine, which he used to lead her toward the tree. Like a prisoner, she followed a step behind him, surprised she could walk at all, her limbs were so shaky. Now that he had her under his control, what would he do?

When they reached the tree, he tied the end of the vine over a low branch and tugged until her hands were stretched above her head. Until she had to use the balls of her feet to keep her balance.

After testing the slackness of his “rope” he tied it off, securing her to the tree. Then he stepped back. His eyes were dark, intense, as he scanned her stretched, naked form.

Goose bumps erupted all over her skin. Tied, helpless, bound. For him. For his pleasure; he could use her as he wished. And she wanted him to.

He circled her, and she jumped when she felt his hands on her shoulder blades. “Ssssh,” he whispered against her ear. His breath was hot, damp. Her sex started to throb, and each caress of wind chilled the moisture between her legs.

She’d never felt so aware. The ocean roared louder, the air was crisper, the moon shone brighter. And Mark. Mark was…

Pressing his solid body against hers. His erection was rock-hard under his jeans, pushing at the small of her back. “Tell me something, Ruby.”

“Anything.”

“Do you like it when I touch your breasts?” His hands came around to cup her breasts, and he gently massaged the sensitive flesh.

She moaned. “Yes.”

“Tell me what else you like.”

“I love it when you pinch my nipples.” She’d never said anything like it before, and the words seemed to echo in the darkness.

He took a hard tip between two fingers and pinched her softly. “Pinch you like this?”

“Harder.”

She felt his smile against her throat. The bastard already knew she didn’t like it gentle; he was torturing her once more. But then he pinched again, harder, this time sending a sharp pain through her body that shot to her pussy. She writhed against the open air, straining against the vines that held her bound.

Then she felt another jasmine vine on her skin, a fragrant whisper across her rib cage, between her breasts, around her neck and back again.

Silent, she waited as he manipulated the vine around her breasts, her sides, her neck. The feel of his fingers brushing her skin, the silky flowers caressing her sensitive flesh, were like erotic pinpricks covering her wherever they touched.

Jasmine enveloped her upper body. It came together in the center of her breasts to spread out again, wrapping around her ribs toward the back. She felt him tie off the vines in the middle of her spine, leaving her in a cupless bra of leaves and flowers.

His hands were on her breasts again, pinching, kneading, pulling. The leaves and stems were slightly scratchy on her skin and somehow heightened the tingling at her nipples.

“Please,” she gasped, throwing her head back against his neck. “Touch me… I’m so wet.”

“If only you weren’t so disobedient.”

“I’m not…”

“You are. I recall asking you to feed me a certain strawberry earlier at dinner. Do you remember that?”

She whimpered. Her pussy was dripping, the juice sticky on her inner thigh.

His hot breath on her ear sent shivers over her skin. “You were a greedy thing, weren’t you? You couldn’t share that berry with me. And I wanted to taste you so badly, Ruby.”

“I’m sorry, Mark; just touch me, please.”

He teased her nipple, tweaked until she cried out, the sound drowning in the roar of ocean waves.

“My mouth was watering for it. You had your pussy juice right in front of my mouth. I could smell it.” He skated his hand across her rib cage and she felt him span her abdomen, hip bone to hip bone.

“Lower,” she begged, squirming.

“Tell me something first.” He still held her left breast in his palm, and he squeezed her.

“Anything.”
Just touch me.

“Tell me what you tasted like,” he said.

“See for yourself.”

“So naughty. So defiant.” His fingers inched lower, and she bucked forward. But the evil man did not go low enough. “Ruby darling, maybe you’re not as submissive as I originally thought.”