Hanging On (8 page)

“Did you enjoy your punishment?”

A skirmish waged behind his eyes, and she had no doubt as to the cause.

He wanted to deny that her refusal to see him last night mattered. She ran a single fingertip over his lips. They parted ever so slightly, and his moist breath heated her.

Finally, he opted for honesty. “No.”

Though sending him home had been just as hard on Sophia, it was an effective punishment. He hadn’t reached for her once despite the strong desire defined in the tense lines of his body. She favored him with a sympathetic smile, tilting her head to the side ever so slightly. “But you learned your lesson. You’re being very good right now.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“Stand up.” She wanted to check his ass. “Are you still sore?” He didn’t tower over her. They were the same height, but he was in his bare feet, and she wore heels. She stood inches from him. The heat of his body fed a need she’d never felt before. He lifted his eyes to meet hers.

“No.”

She kissed him. She couldn’t remember the last time she found it so hard to keep her hands away from a sub. She could go weeks without touching a sub and still end the scene with orgasms for everyone.

Like last night, he wasn’t passive. He allowed her to control the kiss, but somehow he made her feel things other than attraction and desire.

Something tingled deep inside, spreading through her abdomen and making her weak. She didn’t want to think about what that meant. She just wanted this from him. She wished he would wrap his arms around her, but he didn’t.

Drew made a little sound in the back of his throat, the beginnings of a moan. An answering mew came from Sophia, jolting her back to reality. If she didn’t watch out, he was going to seduce her into forgetting the only

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reason she consented to have sex with him in the first place. She wanted him to look at her and know she owned his soul.

She couldn’t recall ever needing anyone to submit to her so profoundly, but she needed this with Drew. She needed to know she had control. She crossed to the shelves where she grabbed four leather cuffs. When she had them securely buckled around his wrists and ankles, she led him closer to the bed.

The bed frame was blocky on purpose. Posts rose seven feet in the air from each of the four corners. The footboard connected the bottom two posts with a thick square beam of polished wood. Sophia connected his wrists to the bedposts with short chains, and then gave his ankles the same treatment.

When she had him positioned how she wanted, he didn’t move. She wanted him to test his bonds, but she refused to ask him. A predatory smile, which he could not see, curled her lips. She snatched a riding crop from a hook near the shelves and went to kneel on the bed in front of him.

“You’re very handsome, Drew, but you know that already, don’t you?” His eyes were glued to the small rectangle of leather on the end of the riding crop. Lifting it to his shoulder, she caressed him gently, tracing patterns over his skin.

“A snap of your fingers or a lazy smile of invitation is all it takes, isn’t it? Women flock to you.” She looked him up and down, the whip following her sightlines. He was magnificent. “Men, too, I bet.” She began tapping the tiny bit of leather against his pectoral muscles, watching them jump and twitch, reacting to the tiny sting of the slaps. He stared at her, those clear blue eyes never wavering, not even when his skin sensitized to the repetitive slapping.

“Things come too easy to you, Drew. You don’t have to work for it.” His eyes burned into her, answering her accusations without words.

Whether he worked for his earlier conquests or not was irrelevant. He was working for this, for her.

“Easily gotten, easily forgotten,” she muttered as she slid from the bed to escape his penetrating, knowing stare. She was saying too much. “You won’t forget this.”

She switched whips, opting for her fuchsia cat with the braided nylon falls. He flinched at the first blow, and the second, and the third. After a
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while, his back, his ass, and his thighs were stained pink. He relaxed into the rhythm she set.

He had yet to cry out or gasp. When she was sure the gentlest caress would be magnified a thousand times, she gave his front the same treatment.

He wasn’t the first submissive to watch her intently, but he was the most disturbing. She hated that he could disturb her with just a look, especially a look that was so inscrutable.

Sophia had a heavy hand, which the subs who came to her liked. Drew wasn’t someone who sought pain or who needed it to achieve orgasm. It frustrated her. It meant he could never truly be hers, and she wanted him.

God, how she wanted him.

Between her anger and the effort it took her to keep the whipping light, she worked up a sweat. Without breaking rhythm, Sophia lifted her dress over her head, removing one arm. She switched hands expertly, something she had practiced for hours to get right, and freed her remaining arm.

Drew’s eyes lit at the sight of her dark brown, lacy bra. She had far sexier lingerie in silk and leather, yet heat kindled in him at the sight of this polyester blend.

She realized this was the first time he’d seen her topless. She wasn’t naïve enough to think there was anything special about her body. She was athletic and curvy about the hips, with breasts that could swell to a boring B-cup when she retained water. But the way he looked at Sophia made her think that maybe he saw something she missed.

His arm twitched, the bicep flexing mightily, and she realized he was fighting the restraints. The sight of her body tortured him more than the whip, which she hadn’t intended. She was getting nowhere this way, so she deemed him done. Exhaling heavily, she rolled back on the bed to remove her leggings. His broad, tanned chest rose and fell as his breaths came shorter and shallower.

His dick hardened, growing before her eyes, reaching out as if he could touch her that way. He wanted her.

Though Drew had been open about wanting Sophia, something deep inside doubted his truthfulness. With a lazy smile that disguised her insecurity, she lay across the bed, inches from his reach if only his hands were free. She slid her panties down and kicked them away. Then she parted her lips and roamed the slickness there with two fingers.

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She had been wet since she heard his car door slam in the driveway.

He jerked against the bonds now, fighting them with all he had. The sturdy bed frame shook. She was glad she hadn’t used the Velcro cuffs.

With the force he used, he would have pulled free.

Pressing lightly, she rubbed her clit faster. Tension coiled low in her belly, and she arched against it, stretching her body to accept the pleasure as a low moan rolled from her throat.

“Mistress,” he breathed, begging for release.

She focused on the fever in his eyes, getting off on it as much as from the stimulation of her own hand. A short cry, and she came.

With closed eyes, she reached for his cock, the fingers of her hand still freshly wet from her own juices. It was lubricant enough. He cried out in protest at the simple contact.

“Don’t you want to come?” Her breathing hadn’t returned to normal, making her question breathy.

“Not like this,” he said, shaking his head once, slowly. “I want to be inside you, Sophia. I want to know what you feel like coming on me.” Shifting to bring her feet underneath, she rose to her knees. The position put her inches from his face. “And you always get what you want, don’t you?” An edge of bitterness crept into her question.

Drew didn’t hide his surprise. It flashed momentarily, displaced by urgency. “No. I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long. Damn it, Sophia, I need you.”

She might have snorted. “You’ve known me for three days.” His pained expression didn’t change. “I’ve known you since the beginning of time. I’ve needed you since the day I was first created, only I didn’t know it was you.”

She laughed, a short, mirthless sound. “Does that line work on every woman who gives you a hard time? It has all the hallmarks of a ‘spotted and inconstant man.’”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s the first time I’ve been the victim of a Shakespearean insult.”

She was impressed he’d caught the reference. It softened her a little but not enough to let him skip his punishment. “Yes, well, if you start comparing me to a summer’s day, I have plenty more where that came from.”

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He jerked his arm violently. “Then I’ll speak plain English. I want you, Sophia. Untie me, and let me have you.” Lazily, she caressed his hard cock, drawing her fingertips up and down his length. “I won’t let you come, you know.” The warning was softly spoken.

“You’re going to kill me.”

“Perhaps,” she said, “but you’ll never forget to call me Mistress again.”

“Mistress,” he begged, dipping his head nearer. She scooted to the edge of the bed to release the cuff from his wrist. He did not grab for her, which, given the look in his eyes, cost him much.

She released his other arm and threw him a cheeky smile. “Take off your ankle cuffs.” She crossed the room and snagged a handful of condoms from another box.

He crouched, making quick work of the buckles. “’When at your hands did I deserve this scorn?’”

The panic in his rapidly spoken words brought a brief frown to her face before she realized he was unfamiliar with the contents of that particular box.

Sophia returned to the bed before he finished, lying on her side in an inviting pose and scrambling to find an appropriate quote for a reply. When he stood to face her, she showered the condoms on the bed. “’Seest thou this sweet sight? I shall do thee mischief.’ Come to bed, Drew. There are things I want to do with your mouth that don’t involve talking.” He approached cautiously to kneel next to her. “Mistress, may I touch you?”

She praised him with a smile. “Oh, yes, Drew. Make me come.” In less than a second, she found herself engulfed in his body. His lips and hands were everywhere. She felt the sweet heat of his mouth at her neck, and then it was gone, moving down her body. He left her quivering, yearning for the return of his kiss and caress. Her bra disappeared. She writhed beneath him, trying to recapture the caresses that kept moving.

With a swiftness of motion illustrating his frustration and need, he wrenched her legs apart. She wanted him inside her, but she wasn’t stupid.

She wasn’t on the Pill, and he wasn’t wearing a condom. She grabbed his dick, halting his intention.

His eyes grew wide. “Mistress,” he breathed. “Please.”

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She groped to the side for a small, cool plastic package. “Condom, Drew. Always use a condom. I’m not on the Pill, and I have no idea if you’ve been tested.”

He snatched the square from her hand and ripped it open with his teeth.

She took it from him and reached between them to roll it around his long, thick cock. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she told Livia he was large.

Then he was inside her. He filled her completely, and in a way she had never imagined. Something about him just
fit
, and it scared the hell out of her. Drew didn’t allow time for panic. He set a frenetic pace. With the whirlwind of things he made her feel, instinct made her hang on to his shoulders.

His tongue plunged into her mouth, licking and sucking so vehemently all she could do was lie there and take it. She wanted to drive him there. She wanted so badly for him to want her with such abandon he couldn’t control himself. He granted her wish, but took her prisoner in the doing of it. She didn’t mind, though she knew she would hate herself later for letting him take over so completely, for taking control from her. Not only had she lost control of him, she didn’t have control of herself.

She felt things, intense things, so much more than the heat and tension coiling inside. She hadn’t wanted this. She knew the way he made her feel wasn’t unique to her, to this situation. Women flocked to him. He made them all feel this way. It was his gift and her curse. She had to regain control.

All of these thoughts whisked through her mind and left to hide for the time being. They would return to haunt her later. Now, all she knew, all she felt, was Drew.

He murmured her name, and it tore at her soul. Why couldn’t he have given her this one telltale sign that she wasn’t special to him, that her name was inconsequential? She’d instructed him to call her Mistress for a reason.

Her body writhed and arched, fighting the inevitable. He increased his pace, but he did not hurt her. As frantic as he was, as much as passion ruled him, he remained gentle. A tear escaped the corner of her eye, and she screamed as she climaxed.

The orgasm washed over her, wringing violent spasms that echoed in him. He collapsed on top of her, and she was too weak to push him aside.

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She wasn’t sure how much time passed before they both regained the ability to move, but Drew soon rolled to the side, taking her with him.

Before she could protest, his lips were on hers, feasting with slow motions that rekindled her sated passion.

His hands roamed over sensitive places that arched to him. He played her body with practiced ease, and she let him push her over the edge again and again, until they both lay there, panting and exhausted.