Freed (3 page)

When the woman bouncing on her Dom slowed her thrusts as he grunted his own release, Elliott slid his hands down Mary’s arms. She leaned in to him, and while he liked that, he noticed something odd. “I feel you trembling, darlin’.”

He slowly rubbed her arms, sensing how still she was, as if she were afraid to move or act, which contradicted his thoughts on her experience. She was an interesting puzzle, one he intended to figure out. “Do you always tremble like this after orgasm, or is this something new?”

Her gaze held his intently. “No, I don’t tremble after orgasm.”

“Why are you trembling now, then?”

She blinked once. “I’m not sure, to be honest.”

“Is it nerves?” he offered.

“No,” she replied with a firm voice.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips against her shoulder, hoping it would ease her shaking. Her soft skin was a pleasure he wouldn’t refuse himself. Her black corset hugged her body in every way it should, showing off her curves. The lace at the top was a deep purple and accentuated her round breasts, and the boning in the corset detailed the gorgeous lines of her body. He lifted his gaze to her eyes, which were surrounded by dark makeup, and this woman sucked the air from his lungs.

You are different…

He trailed a finger over her cheek, and his muscles were as tense as his cock. “You’re not a newbie. Tell me why your body is reacting so intensely.”

“I haven’t been with a Dom in a long time,” she said softly.

He gazed into those pretty eyes, peering into the windows of her soul. “Is there a reason for that?”

Her pupils had dilated, darkening her features. “I belong to another Dom.”

He dropped his hands, more annoyed that he had made a mistake by touching a submissive who belonged to another. But then he also remembered that Dmitri had said last night that Mary was unattached. He frowned. “Why did you not tell me that before I touched you?”

She recoiled, as if something cold had entered her. “My husband passed away.”

He sighed and moved closer, erasing the distance. Dmitri had mentioned nothing of this. Maybe there was a reason for that, Elliott thought. “How long ago did he die?”

“Just over four years ago.”

Elliott studied her, seeing the first hints of why her body responded with such intensity. A submissive had lost the man who commanded her. He tucked her hair behind her ear, not blind to how she squirmed. “I’m divorced,” he told her.

Mary’s features warmed. Perhaps she was comforted not to be alone in a shadowed past. “For how long?”

“Fifteen years.” Long years had passed as he’d waited to find
his
submissive, the one who would make sense out of his failed marriage. He’d married too young, and married a selfish woman at that. While he and his wife engaged in BDSM, she wasn’t a true submissive. She never gave him everything. Since then, he hadn’t fallen in love with a submissive or with anyone else. Lust, yes, but not undying love.

Mary’s gaze softened, a sweet tone filling her voice. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He noted and appreciated her caring, though the slow shudder she experienced as he trailed his finger over her shoulder interested him more. “Don’t be sorry. We met in high school and married too young. We grew into different people who wanted different things in life.”

His ex-wife, Kate, wanted high society, and Elliott wanted a quiet life, surrounded by those who loved him. When he mentioned divorce, Kate was more worried about what she’d be getting financially than sad that their marriage ended. She had also taken as much of his money as she was possibly able to, at that time.

He brushed his fingers over Mary’s jawline, arching a brow. “Does it bother you that I was married before?”

“No.”

“Good,” he replied with a firm nod. “How about we leave the past where it belongs, then?”

She frowned.

He understood her sorrow, though he also knew the importance of living in the present. Hearing the sensual sounds around him, he played with a strand of her soft hair. “How many times has someone told you they are sorry for your loss?”

“Many times.” She sighed.

“Are you sick of hearing it?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He smiled and tugged on her hair, enjoying the way her breath hitched. “Then why would I say the one thing that annoys you?”

Her eyes searched his before the tightness in her expression vanished. “I suppose you’re right.”

“We both have pasts.” He dragged a finger over her bottom lip, relishing how her lips parted, ready for him. “When you said
husband,
I heard the pain that his death caused you. I don’t need to know more than that.”

While he held sympathy for her loss, he also wanted to play with this sweet woman tonight, not dwell over sadness about something that couldn’t be changed. “I suspect that tonight you came here for an escape. I’m more than willing to give you that.”

She hesitated, and then gave a firm nod. “You’re right, that’s exactly what I came here for.” Staring at him for a long few seconds, she drew in a loud breath and then glanced to the flogging scene.

A burning overcame him, like nothing he’d experienced. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t think he’d ever felt such chemistry with a woman before. This was not something he’d ignore. There was something special about Mary. Something that made his body flare with dominance.

More than a need to fuck her, own her, make her come, he wanted to get into her head. He knew himself, and knew this instant connection needed to be explored. He kept his gaze fixed on her as she continued to tremble. Her breath was raspy as she watched the woman bound in the chair being fucked roughly from behind. At Mary’s intense shiver, Elliott grinned to himself.

Ah, you’d like that, darlin’.

She turned to him and moved a bit closer. Yearning lay in the depths of her eyes, though with a hint of sadness, too. It made his intentions tonight clear.

Free her.

A little treat had been offered to him and he planned to devour her. He slid both hands into her hair and her lips parted under his hold. “Such a pretty little thing you are.”

“I’m pleased I arouse you, sir,” she replied with pinkened cheeks.

There was the difference between an experienced sub and one new to the lifestyle. Mary was trained to speak with confidence and please her Dom, though her wide eyes and harsh breathing showed her apprehension.

She intrigued him.

He brushed his fingers over her bottom lip and pulled her up against his rock-hard cock. “As you see, darlin’,
aroused
might be an understatement.”

Soft instrumental music followed Mary as she strode hand in hand with Elliott into the master suite. He hadn’t asked her to join him for a play session, he simply led her into the room. A slow heat flooded her at his boldness. She knew she had indicated her interest for the evening and that she was more than willing to play with him tonight.

He didn’t need more of an invitation.

Once they entered the lavish bedroom, Elliott left the door open, causing Mary to wonder if he liked an audience as she did, too. Scanning the room in a quick sweep, she noted the luxurious king-size bed with the rich golden bedspread. On the nightstand, she saw ropes and a flogger, and knowing they might be used on her kicked up her heart rate.

He stopped by the end of the bed and released her hand. Then he slowly circled her, as if examining the canvas he would paint on. A Dom’s long regard had once set her on fire. It had been her first attraction to the lifestyle. Now was no exception.

Heat seeped into her loins.

To be the center of a Dom’s universe matched no other feeling in the world. To be pulled into their command was a yearning she had fought for so long. She ached to be dropped into his headspace and completely removed from hers.

She wanted to remember what it was like to be submissive.

Under his examination, as he gazed over her from head to toe, the air in the room shifted, thickening. Each breath she drew was a bit deeper and harsher than the one before. The hair on her arms rose and goose bumps tickled her flesh, as she sensed his stare caressing her body.

He trailed his fingers along her bare arm, igniting a shiver. When he returned to face her, he considered her with warm eyes. She couldn’t avoid his potent stare, and she would no longer overlook her needs. As if this was all new to her again, her thighs clenched to feel pleasure, but her heart ached to experience the hands of a Dominant.

To be adored…admired…

Mary wanted it all.

She was desperate to remember how it felt to be touched by Charles. How her world aligned when a Dom commanded her. How peaceful her mind became. How settled her emotions were. Her eyes closed of their own accord as a memory fluttered over her…

The dark corner of Chains was private and intimate. Dressed in white-lace lingerie, Mary waited for her Dom to make his move. It came only a second later as he swirled a finger over her clit and said softly, “So aroused, my sweet Mary.”

“For you, sir,” she replied, gazing into his powerful stare.

“Ah, I see that.” The side of his mouth arched as his fingers dipped in between her folds. “So fucking wet.”

“Always, sir,” she gasped, dropping into the command of his intoxicating touch.

“Always aroused for me, Mary, aren’t you?”

“I ache for you, sir.”

Charles’s low chuckle only increased the moisture between her thighs. With his free hand, he cupped her chin, demanding her stare. His gaze sizzled. “Of course you do, because that pussy is mine. I control when it gets wet, when it gets hot and needy. It’s my pussy to fuck, isn’t it?”

“God, yes, sir,” she rasped.

He lowered his hand and gestured to his pants. “Then get on your knees and suck me until I’m rock hard and can fuck you.”

She lowered herself without hesitation, grasping his semi-hard penis in her hand. She grinned at him, feeling it harden slightly, knowing that always worked to get him excited. She swirled her tongue up the front and he groaned, then she licked the slit, tasting the salty liquid at the tip.

His hand cupped her cheek as he stared down at her with adoration. His eyes were soft and filled with emotion, something that came only from a relationship that was simply meant to be. She drew his cock between her lips, taking it all the way in to the back of her throat.

Charles’s low groan made her shiver as she bobbed her head and used her hand to stroke him. Within only five strokes, he pulled away. His deep laughter raised goose bumps across her skin. He offered her his hand, his stare molten and passionate. “Now, my sweetheart, let me feel you beneath me while I take what is mine.”

With a gasp, she opened her eyes, drawn back into the present. A change appeared in Elliott’s features, removing the warmth and replacing it with a hard gaze. He apparently knew her mind was elsewhere.

Dammit!
She hadn’t expected to think of Charles so much.

Stay in the moment.

Elliott’s piercing eyes held hers, making her feel as if she’d never done a BDSM scene before. Dragging his finger over her shoulder and watching the glide of his touch, he asked in a low voice, “Is that cunt wet and achy for me, Mary?”

“Yes, sir.” She shivered.

He gave a small grin, gaze turning playful. “But I’ve hardly touched you, how can you be so aroused?”

Holding his could-be-intimi
dating stare, she reminded herself that she wasn’t inexperienced, either. She’d lived and breathed submission for many years under Charles’s hand. She wanted to play tonight—to remember her submissive role. “You’re a handsome man, sir. Your confident touch is arousing. It’s making me remember what it used to be like to be controlled by a Dominant.”

His low chuckle slid across her as he brushed his hand over her cheek and then he tangled his fingers into her hair. “I like the way you react under my touch.” He pressed his hard cock against her stomach. “As you see, I’m equally enamored by your presence.” Trapped in his tight hold, she gasped, and he stole the sound, pressing his mouth against hers.

She tumbled into his strong embrace.

Elliott’s kisses were of a man who knew his worth. One who understood the power he held over a woman and was aware of how to raise her into mind-boggling euphoria. Each swipe of his tongue was not simple but purposeful. It was of a Dom who was well educated in how to kiss and command a woman. His hands moved to gently caress her face as he continued to rub his hardened length against her belly, teasing her with his erection.

She shifted against the wetness in her panties, and the ache she was feeling was something she had not felt in so long. The yearning to be filled by a thick, beautiful cock. She squirmed against him and moaned, as desperation consumed her.

He broke the kiss, resting his forehead on hers. “Christ, Mary.”

“I know, sir,” she whispered the same understanding.

This connection between them, it was raw and real, and it was undeniably amazing. It reminded her of…

She forced the thought away, trying to stay in
the now
. She thought coming to the party tonight would free her sexually, though she’d never expected Elliott’s touch to stir so many memories of Charles. Nor had she prepared herself to feel the electric buzz running through her at his presence. The way he made her feel was familiar. Her reactions to Elliott didn’t feel like simple D/s play. There was a level of passion and yearning that made her ache for
this
man. His touch burned through her, and she needed…
more.

He drew in a long breath and then leaned away, running his hands down her arms. Then he took a step back, giving Mary breathing space as he trailed his fingers down her rib cage. “Why do you wear this corset?”

She ran her hands down the front, enjoying how thin it made her waist. “I feel beautiful in it.” Last week had marked the first time she’d gone into a lingerie store in years. Oh, the fun she had. The second she saw the corset, she didn’t need to see anything more.

Elliott considered her, then
tsked
. “I believe that is part of the reason you wear corsets, but I also think a woman of your experience would know better than to lie to a Dom.”

She stared up into his warm brown eyes. “I do know better.”

“Good.” He folded his arms over his thick chest. “I’ll ask again, why do you wear this corset?”

Mary had seen some submissives shy away in a moment like this. But years of playing and being comfortable in the role had her lifting her chin. “I’m a mother of three. My stomach has stretch marks and is not my best attribute. I feel more comfortable in a corset than I would naked.”

His gaze softened with his sweet smile. “The truth sounds so much prettier coming from your mouth.” He slid his hand along the front of her corset. “These are marks of life and nothing to be ashamed of. Why do you think a man would see stretch marks from childbirth as flaws?”

She swallowed as something seductive passed in the air between them. The way Elliott moved and his subtle commands were controlling. He knew how to look at her, how to talk to her. It all set her aflame. After a stabilizing breath, she gave an easy shrug. “Truthfully, my choice to wear corsets isn’t about the man. It’s about me and how I’m most comfortable.”

His grin slowly built to a bright smile. “Ah, and that’s what makes you such a lovely woman.” He tucked a finger under her chin, forcing her gaze. “A submissive who knows herself and stays true to herself is a thing of beauty.” Taking a step back toward the bed, he shrugged off his coat and removed his shirt with quick fingers. “Do you see my scars?”

Mary swallowed deeply, as all she saw was a fit man. Her fingers itched to run through his soft chest hair. His thick frame delighted her with the slight definition of muscle on his stomach. Then she noticed the scars along his torso. “Yes, I see them. Appendix and spleen.”

Surprise lightened his eyes. “How do you know what surgeries I’ve had?”

“I’m a doctor.” She glanced to the scars again on his torso and laughed. “I could be wrong, of course.”

“In fact, you’re not.” His grin remained intact as his brow arched. “Tell me, do my scars look ugly to you?”

She gave him a slow, appreciative once-over. “Absolutely not.”

“Precisely. Scars are marks of life and don’t matter. Take off the corset.”

Mary took a step back, a sense of unease cutting through her. “No.”

He matched her retreat and closed the distance. His voice lowered. “No?”

“No, sir,” she repeated softly.

She might be a confident woman, but she hadn’t been naked for a man that wasn’t Charles since she was in her twenties. After three children, things were not nearly as tight as they’d once been. “I’m not comfortable with that, sir.”

“Hmmm…” He tapped his lip, his eyes narrowing. “I see.”

Under that all-consuming stare of his, she burned. He looked to her like she was a puzzle he intended to solve. As an experienced submissive, she knew this was their negotiation and his testing of her. She also knew what she wanted and how she wanted it.

Mary had power now, and she intended for Elliott to witness it.

“All right, Mary.” He rocked on his heels and laced his hands behind his back. “I’ll allow you this one freedom.” Then he leaned down into her face, erasing the distance. “Know, though, that I’m being kind to your insecurity. This is not weakness on my part as a Dom, but tenderness to your comfort level. Understand?”

“Of course I know that, sir,” she replied.

She also knew that he hadn’t allowed her this right because she refused. He allowed it because he took measure in the care of his submissive.

That made him worthy.

It also built trust.

His chin lifted in response to something he saw in her expression. “Ah, beautiful, I’ve never minded a woman with a little fight in her.”

“Good, because that’s what you’ve got, sir,” she retorted.

Elliott couldn’t fight back his grin.
Playful. Strong. Beautiful.
Mary was damn near perfect. He didn’t mind her pushing for what made her comfortable. In fact, he approved of her strength. Domination didn’t appeal to him as a way to bulldoze a woman. His cravings came from the sensation that a woman trusted him enough to let it all go. To be in his headspace for a little while, trusting he’d do right by her.

His cock twitched in his pants as he realized Mary was the perfect combination of sexy and confident. The fire in her eyes when she refused him burned into his groin. A little push and shove in a game of power was something he enjoyed.

Keeping his hands clasped at his back, he asked, “Hard limits I should be aware of?”

Mary’s response was instant. “No choking. No blood play. No name calling or humiliation. No marks that won’t fade by the morning.”

Christ,
how she declared her sexual dislikes entranced him. This was a reason why he never played with young submissives. He preferred women who knew their bodies and were well acquainted with their desires. “How about soft limits?”

“Caning and whipping.”

He drew in close and inhaled her rich scent of roses, sensing the heat and need off her body. Her limits were right in line with his, and for him it’d always been about the power play. He used toys as a way to fuel pleasure, if his submissive needed it. But he didn’t get off on whipping a woman. He got off on watching her melt under his command.

Unable to stop himself from touching her, he dragged his fingers over her cheek and smiled when she leaned in to him. Her eyes all but blazed with arousal, and he found himself enraptured. Not all submissives reacted so intensely to him, and there was something incredibly potent about how she outright burned for him. “Very well. And a safe word?”