Slice of Pi 2 (9 page)

Owen took a long sip from his beer and set the bottle down on a coaster. He wanted to hope, but he'd been through this enough times to be cautious. Granted, those failures had always started out as relationships, and no potential partner had ever read any of the books, let alone all of them. Even so, he wanted them to approach this intelligently and with open minds. “We need a few conditions.”

“No emotions,” Iris said quickly. “I was reading about the way these kinds of things can get messy. I'm not interested in falling in love. I'd like to be friends who have this kind of relationship. This Domme/sub thing.” She paused, as if trying the words on for size, then nodded. “That's my main condition.”

Owen nodded back. He'd figured that was a part of this for her. Honestly, he didn't mind the idea of a relationship, but he didn't necessarily need one, even though he'd be lying if he said Iris didn't make him at least strongly consider it, more so than any other woman had in the past. But he was independent. If they kept feelings separate, no one would get hurt. “Okay.” He licked his lips. “I don't want you to do things in a scene just because you think I'll like them, or make yourself uncomfortable for me. It's really important that we communicate how we're feeling at all times. This won't work without communication. Like, if I want you to slap me in the face, and you're not comfortable with it, you have to tell me.”

Iris's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “You want me to slap you in the face?”

“Hypothetically,” Owen said quickly. Maybe that was too far, too fast, even as an example.

Iris picked her beer back up and drank some. “What about seeing other people?”

Owen couldn't tell if she was promoting it or discouraging it from her tone. “Do you want to see other people?”

“I don't know.” She shrugged. “I guess I don't want to rule out the possibility, but I'm not seeing anyone right now.”

“I don't think it matters, as long as we're safe.” Owen couldn't imagine seeing multiple women simultaneously, but Iris probably saw lots of guys. He didn't begrudge her that kind of sexual release, of course. It was her life and she could see whomever she wanted.

Iris finished her beer and set the empty bottle down on the coaster. “I get tested after each new partner, and I'm clean.”

“I got tested after my last partner cheated on me.” Owen grimaced. “All clean.”

Iris winced. “Sorry. Was she, uh”—she waved her hand, looking for the right words—“you know, into this stuff?”

Owen snorted. “No, definitely not. At least not with me. I think the kinkiest thing she was into was sleeping with her ex while she was still supposed to be seeing me. Eventually she felt guilty and came clean, but I couldn't trust her anymore and ended it.” He shrugged. “Anyway, that was over a year ago. It's in the past.” He was happy to put aside those unpleasant memories, especially since the mess had almost put him off dating forever. Fortunately, his ever-growing responsibilities at the bakery were doing that well enough alone. Silence fell between them. He surveyed Iris's body language to see if she'd be receptive to pushing things forward. She was leaning in toward him, one arm draped along the back of the couch and her legs crossed at the knee. Her expression was relaxed and open. As for him, his body felt tense, like he was about to run a race, but excited, as if it was a race he could win. Adrenaline ran hot through his veins. “So, want to head to the bedroom and try this out?”

Iris's eyebrows rose again. “Now?”

“If you're game.” Gauging her interest, he leaned forward, closing the distance between them. She didn't back down, although her lips turned up in a smile. “You want to put me in my place, Miss Iris?”

Iris laughed, a giggle that bubbled up unexpectedly, making her press her fist to her lips to try and stifle it. “Miss Iris?”

She was definitely not turning him away, so he slid closer on the couch and pressed his lips to her neck, taking a nibble of the skin there. He heard her breath catch, which was a good sign. “Unless you'd rather I call you Mistress.”

She shivered, either from the words or from the bite of his teeth over her collarbone. He kissed his way up to her ear and caught the earlobe.

Iris stayed frozen only a moment before she grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him away from her. Owen was so surprised he didn't resist, flopping back against the side of the sofa. Iris's expression, while stern, contained a mirthful gleam. “You will address me as Miss, when I allow you to speak. And I did not say you could touch me.”

Owen felt his cock stiffen. Her tone was perfect: stern without being mean, yet with no uncertainty. Fuck, this could be a lot of fun. He was unable to prevent his smile. “Yes, Miss.”

She smiled back, and they understood each other.

“I'll say stop if I want to stop.” Owen licked his lips. “No worries about safe words right now. Okay?”

Iris nodded. “Okay.” In a moment, she straightened on the couch. It was as graceful a transition as a flipped switch, and just as sudden. When she got to her feet, her entire body spoke of authority, and Owen felt the submissive side of his personality responding in kind. “Take off your clothes and leave them here on the couch.”

Whoa, that was fast. His dick had not lost interest since this started, and even the thought of stripping naked in the living room didn't deter him. He began with his shirt buttons. This was off to a fantastic start.

---

Iris tried not to feel silly as she got to her feet and into what she'd begun thinking of as her “Domme mode,” which she'd definitely practiced in front of the mirror a few times last night. When she ordered Owen to take off his clothes, it was difficult not to add a “please,” or ask if he wanted to move into the bedroom, but she reminded herself that was what he wanted. He wanted to be bossed around. His answering grin was all she needed to reassure herself that yes, she was doing the right thing. He made eye contact while undressing, his attitude almost saucy, and she recalled him asking her to put him in his place. That could be fun.

Owen folded his boxer briefs and placed them on top of the pile of folded clothes on the couch, then stood before her, naked and erect. His body was tense, but he didn't look unhappy. In fact, his eyes were bright.

Iris hadn't done much dirty talk with her other partners, but reading six BDSM guides—and watching
a lot
of porn— in less than a week had definitely had an effect. “Look at you, already getting aroused and I haven't even touched you yet.” She forced a look of disappointment on her face, and Owen's cock twitched as if she'd touched it. “Get into the bedroom now.”

“Yes, Miss.” The words came quickly to his lips, and Iris liked how they sounded. She even liked the smile on his face as he obeyed. Iris followed after a couple of seconds, trying to gather her thoughts and plan her next move. She couldn't have planned anything without seeing his interests, but now that she knew how neatly they aligned with hers, she wished she'd taken some time to create a fantasy encounter of some kind. Like this, she was just going to have to wing it. Ah well. Winging it had never been so appealing as when she was watching Owen's naked ass disappear into her bedroom.

Owen stood in the center of the room, body relaxed, awaiting her instructions.

“Stand with your hands behind your head and your feet shoulder width apart.” She'd seen this position on some of the porn she'd been perusing with interest during the past few days. Owen jumped to attention immediately, spreading his legs and clasping his hands behind his head, elbows out to the sides. Iris walked around him, examining him at leisure. She hoped he liked feeling exposed like this, because she liked having the time to check out every inch of him. With the difference in their heights, he was looking right over the top of her head. When she reached his front, she ran one fingernail lightly up the underside of his cock, dragging it along the vein. Owen inhaled through his nose, a sharp sound, as a muscle twitched in his stomach. Excellent. She'd wanted to see if he'd break position, but there was no sign of that so far.

She thought about remaining clothed, but this outfit didn't exactly speak of great dominance and control, so she'd might as well be naked and make this easier for herself. While shimmying out of her clothes, she kept an eye on Owen, who had a small smile twitching at his lips. He was probably struggling not to look over at her as she got naked just at the edge of his peripheral vision. When she walked around in front of him to reach the bed, she saw his eyes follow her, even though he stayed where she'd told him to stay.

Iris stretched out on her back on the bed, folding one arm behind her head to prop it up. “Tell me what you'd like to do to me if I let you.” She watched him stand in position for her, her free arm tracing lazy circles on her stomach. His obedience was unquestionably hot.

“Mmmm.” He closed his eyes, then opened them in a slow blink. “I'd like to make you come however you'd let me, Miss.”

Fuck, that sounded fantastic. “Very good. Come over here and lick me until I come.” She'd been thinking about this in particular since their tryst at the inn—oral had never been something she'd really sought out before, but Owen's ministrations had made her think she might be able to come from it. It was more difficult to speak sternly to him than she'd thought, still wanting to ask rather than order, but she maintained her role. “If you do a good job, maybe you'll get to come. If not, we'll have to keep practicing until you get it right.”

He dropped his arms and was on the bed immediately, lying down between her spread legs. Iris inched farther up the bed to give him more room. Owen's breath against her skin—god, she was already so wet—made this entire situation suddenly real. Before she could prepare herself, she felt the wet slide of his tongue against her clit.

Iris's head dropped back against the pillow as she made a noise that was decidedly
un
controlled, despite her attempts to keep herself together. Holy shit. Owen pressed on, circling her clit with his tongue, alternating between loops and drags and tiny kitten licks, and each one was like a lightning bolt of pleasure running up through her body. She grabbed the sheets for stability and closed her eyes, letting him do all the work.

Through the obscene noises coming from between her legs, she could also hear his small moans of pleasure, pleasure that he was feeling from licking
her
, and it was practically too much. She focused on her breathing. Honestly, she was generally a pretty hard sell when it came to orgasms, but at the mercy of Owen's talented tongue she was having no trouble getting right to the edge.

It took her a moment to realize he'd paused, his mouth hovering close enough that she could feel his breath but not close enough to feel him actually touching her. “Miss?” he asked, his voice whispering over her skin.

“Yes?”

“May I touch you as well? May I use my hands?”

She was confused by the question at first, but right, she'd only told him to lick her. “Yes. Good boy for asking.”

He closed his lips over her clit and sucked, drawing the nub into his mouth and making all words die in Iris's throat as she arched up again. She felt something under her hips and looked down. He'd grabbed one of the throw pillows and was scooting it under her. She lifted her hips to allow him to do so, then continued watching because the sight of his head between her legs was incredibly erotic. He looked up over her belly, catching her gaze again, and the moment hung between them like a charged current. Then he returned to his task, keeping his eyes on her as he pressed against her clit with the flat of his tongue. Iris kept her eyes open only by force as she felt the ripples of sensation travel all down her body. Owen slipped one finger into her, and then she felt a stretch as he presumably added a second, his broad hands opening her up as he returned to her clit with focused attention.

This position felt so exposed. On her back, hips raised, legs spread, Owen was working her over completely, and she was letting him. She'd never been a selfish lover, but he was asking her to be selfish here, and it was difficult to keep her mind off the fact that he was asking for nothing in return. He began easing his fingers in and out, pressing up against her G-spot, if the spreading intensity in her pelvis was any indication. When she felt the tightening sensation low in her groin, the warmth that built all throughout her pussy and clit, she found it harder to breathe. She deepened her breaths, drawing in air and filling her lungs, making the pleasure slow and spread and intensify. If she forced her muscles to relax, she could hold off longer, make him work for it while also making her climax much more intense. She tried to stop from clenching in anticipation, even as his fingers continued their magic, his mouth against her clit a constant distraction, but she climbed the peak despite trying to hold off. Not only was he going to make her come, but she was unable to stop or delay it, the climax building with the intensity of a snowball rolling down a hill, picking up speed and taking her mind with it.

An unbearable tightness seized her suddenly, her orgasm so sharp it felt like pain that forced her hips up and her body to jackknife, washing all other thought from her brain. She fell apart. One hand went to his hair, holding his head in place as she rode out the climax, and he licked her right through it until all her bones were jelly and she shuddered to completion.

She couldn't talk, couldn't even think after that. He had stopped; she couldn't feel his mouth on her anymore, and his fingers slid from her with a slow drawing feeling that wasn't unpleasant by any means. Her climax had left her completely drained. While she was an expert at bringing herself off, it had been a long time since she'd come that hard.

It took her almost a full minute to remember she was supposed to be in a scene with him. Iris scooted up on the bed again, sitting up against the headboard, drawing one hand across her forehead to wipe sweat away. Owen was kneeling back on his heels, his cock still hard and leaking from the tip. His lips glistened with her wetness.