The Beauty of Surrender (7 page)

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “You are so beautiful, Ava. Impossible for me not to tell you that.”

“Ah, Desmond …”

She let her head drop back, and he could smell the fresh scent of her hair. He reached up then, buried his fingers in the silky, twining strands, pulling her head back. And she went with him, her body bowing, arching, her response filling him with that sense of absolute power over her. And even more, with the awe-inspiring sense of her submission to him.

She was giving in. But he could feel some underlying tension in her even now. She was holding something back. But Marina had told him to expect it.

With one hand still in her hair, he moved the other down the front of her body, in between her breasts. He hesitated one brief moment before sliding his palm across the ropes, filling it with that plump flesh.

“Oh …” Her soft sigh, her panting breath, and he was hard as iron now, if he hadn’t been before. Nearly bursting.

He slid his hand to the other breast, over her smooth skin, and finally he brushed one tip with his fingers.

“Oh, Desmond …”

She was writhing now. He should make her hold still, but her gently undulating body was too beautiful to make her stop. Instead, he took her nipple between his fingers and tugged.

She grunted, her hips arching, and he did it again, tugged, pinched, twisted. She was panting hard, all rhythm gone. But he could see over her shoulder that her eyes were still shut tight in dream mode.

He let her hair go so he could use both his hands, sliding them over her breasts, then torturing her nipples again. He loved the idea of simply throwing her down and fucking her, just plowing right into her body, and he could do it. But he wanted to wait. The anticipation, seeing her like this, was too good. And he always loved these long sessions, the exquisite torture of the waiting, the desire itself a meditative force.

He kept his hands on her nipples, twisting, flicking, stroking softly. He sank into the experience, her labored breath, her lovely little gasps when he squeezed hard, the pulsing of his cock. Only the fatigued muscles in his legs finally reminded him that he’d been playing her for several hours already. That and the almost unbearable ache in his cock.

He shifted, drew her up against him, one palm flat and firm against her rope-covered torso, her sinuous back against his chest, his stomach. His erection pressed against the top of her bare, rounded buttocks. And he moved his hand down over the ropes until he reached the apex of her thighs.

“Ava …” His voice was ragged in his own ears.

“Yes … yes, Desmond.”

“Are you wet, Ava?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Do you want me to touch you? To put my hand between your legs? To make you come?”

“Please, Desmond,” she whispered between gasping breaths.

“Then tell me, Ava. Tell me you’re mine. Mine to do with as I please.” He was trying hard to ignore the edge of desperation in his voice.

“Yes! I’m yours, Desmond. Yours …”

His body went still, as though time had stopped.

Yours
.

What was it about those words from her that made his head spin? He felt as though something inside him was unraveling, coming apart.

His
. He had never wanted anything so damn much in his life. He didn’t understand what was happening to him, between them. But it was too good to stop.

All he knew was that he wanted to make this girl his.

Ava
.

Something weird was happening in his head. Something that
went beyond any sense of ownership, of being in control. And the truth was, the way he wanted her,
needed
her, meant he wasn’t entirely in command.

What did it all mean? He didn’t know. Right now, all that mattered was that she was here, she was his. He’d deal with the leftover mind-fuck later. He was pretty damn certain she’d be worth it.

Chapter Five

D
ESMOND’S HEAD
was spinning, his pulse thrumming with a reckless, staccato beat.

Ava
.

So beautiful.

Have to have her
.

He slid his fingers down and right into the wet folds of her pussy. So swollen, so slick. He was going to lose his mind. He plunged his fingers into that wet, silky heat. And she went off like a shot, her sex clenching around his hand as he pumped into her. She was groaning, crying out.

His cock pulsed; he needed to come. But this was all about her.

Ava
.

Christ
.

She was still coming, quivering against him, moaning softly. Then shivering, leaning into him as he held her up. “Very good, Ava.”

Oh, yes, very good. Almost too good. He could barely stand himself, his painfully throbbing cock. And that other thing happening in his head …

Moving her over to the bed, he carefully laid her down on her stomach. He saw that her eyes were still closed, her hair falling all over her face, her shoulders, in a wild blond tangle. He knelt beside her, trying to ignore his aching cock. He concentrated on the lovely curve of her back beneath the ropes, on her buttocks, her perfectly formed legs.

“Ava.” Her eyes fluttered open, a blaze of bright blue. Glossy, her pupils enormous. Even now he was struck by that air of innocence about her. “I’m going to have you do some more breathing now.”

“Yes …”

He brushed her hair aside and laid his hand over the back of her neck, pressed down just enough so that she could feel him holding her still.

“Breathe in, into your stomach. Yes, and hold it for a moment. Good. Let it out slowly. And again.”

He took her through the breathing, talking to her softly, falling easily into a pattern with her, needing to relax, to focus, as much as he needed her to. In moments her body went loose beneath his hand.

His cock was pulsing as hard as ever.

But he noticed it now only as if it were something at the edge of his vision. He was in top mode, that space where his responsibilities to his bottom meant more than his own needs. And this was where he’d needed to take her, the climax meant to bring down her defenses so he could take her even deeper.

“Very good, Ava. I’m going to stop directing you now. But you are to keep breathing as I’ve told you, to feel my breath, to keep in sync with me. And let your mind go loose, as loose as your body is right now. To find that place.”

He stayed with her for maybe twenty minutes, his hand never leaving the silky flesh at the back of her neck. Her body was still, but he could
feel
the energy humming away inside her, in the air between them. It was sexual, yes. But there was something
more, something even in the texture of her skin beneath his palm …

When he checked her hands for circulation they were a bit paler than he liked. Time to bring her out of it.

His own body buzzing with that sensual, muted energy, hers and his own, he leaned over her, whispered, “I’m removing the ropes, Ava. Stay still.”

He untied the knot, carefully uncoiled the ropes from her arms, went to hang them on the wall rack. When he came back to the bed she was breathing evenly, but he felt the shift in her awareness even before he lifted her, sitting her upright on the end of the bed.

Her eyes were open, that spectacular blue, glowing as though her body were illuminated from within. He could feel the heat of her, coming off her in waves. And he was still rock-hard, needing her. Needing to fuck her. But not tonight.

Torture.

But this was his job: doing what was best for her.

He helped her to her feet. Almost too much to hold her up, his arm encircling her naked waist, with her bare breasts luscious and full only inches away. If he pressed her close, right up against him, he could have his hands on her breasts again in moments, in between her sweet thighs, in that slick heat …

She swayed, and he held her a little tighter.

“Are you steady, Ava? Can you stand?”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

He untied knots, slipping the rope over her skin, enjoying the sensation of the soft nylon running across his palms, as he always did. And she stood so still, really like some sort of doll, with her big blue eyes, her pink pouting mouth. Her face was nearly expressionless. Except that her eyes were gleaming, alive, dynamic.

When he was finished he sat her down on the edge of the bed, seated himself next to her, wrapping a throw blanket around her narrow shoulders.

“What are you feeling, Ava?”

Why was he so desperate to know? In a way that went beyond his responsibilities as a top.

“I’m feeling … nothing, really. Just floating on the endorphins a little, still.”

“Nothing else?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

He was quiet a moment. This, he thought, was the problem.

“Has it ever occurred to you that part of the issue is that you don’t allow yourself to feel everything the ropes have to give you? That something is holding you back from really feeling what’s happening to you?”

“I … I don’t know.”

“I want you to think about it when you go home, before we see each other again.”

She nodded.

“Are you cold?”

“No, Desmond.”

“Thirsty?”

“No, thank you, Desmond.”

He watched her face. It was too still. Yes, something was going on with this girl. He wanted to know what it was. He wanted to help her move beyond it. The mystery of it intrigued him.

Hell, she intrigued him.

Don’t fool yourself. It’s far more than that
.

Fuck
. He had to calm down.

“Ava, do you want to see me again?” he asked, more harshly than he meant to. “Yes.”

“I’ll ask you once more when you’ve had a chance to come down.”

“Of course.”

Maybe she’d normalize with the armor of her clothing on. “Let’s get you dressed.”

She let him help her slip back into her white lace panties, her dress. He had her carry her shoes and follow him to the living room, where he made her drink a glass of water, had her curl up in one corner of the sofa, the blanket over her lap. She was really coming out of it now, out of subspace, out of that odd numbness.

“Ava, we’ll talk more after you’ve had a day or two to absorb what’s happened here, talk seriously. Right now, let’s just talk to each other.”

“About what?”

“About anything. Who we are. What we do. Where we come from. Tell me how you met Marina.”

She brushed her blond curls from her face, the motion a bit listless still, her voice soft. “I went to one of her lecture nights at Pinnacle. She was doing a workshop on bondage, and I went up to her after, told her I was looking for someone to work with, someone who knew what they were doing. Really knew. She worked with me several times …”

Ava paused, bit her lip. And watching her make the small dent into that lush, pink flesh made him want to put his fingers there, to feel her lips, to kiss her. His fingers clenched at his sides.

Ava went on. “Then Marina told me about you. She told me you both belong to the club, that it’s how you know each other.”

“Yes. And that’s where I plan to take you, eventually.”

“When I heard her that night, talking about Shibari, the formality of it, I thought maybe she could … but it didn’t work with us; you already know that.”

She stopped, glanced away.

“What is it?” He put a hand on her shoulder, felt her shiver. “Tonight … it didn’t … I didn’t …”

“You went deeper than I expected you to, but you are still holding back. But this was our first time together. We’ll try again, unless you change your mind.”

“I won’t!” She stopped again. “I’m sorry, Desmond. I won’t change my mind, unless you have.”

“No.” He reached out, gave in and touched a finger to her flushed cheek. “In fact, I’m more eager than ever to figure you out.”

She smiled, the first real expression he’d seen on her face since he’d brought her out of the ropes. He leaned in, took her hand in his, stroked her knuckles with his fingertips. Yes, that babyskin. Beautiful.

“Desmond? May I ask you something?”

“Yes, certainly.”

“Why do you want to do this with me? Is it simply a challenge? It feels … important for me to understand.”

“Yes, it’s a challenge, which most Doms appreciate. But there is something … special about you. You’re like a puzzle, and I want to find the missing pieces. I don’t mean that in any sort of offensive way. I was intrigued the moment Marina told me about you, and more so after meeting you.”

More so now. So much more.

“Marina … will you tell me about when you met her?”

She was relaxed again as she curled deeper into the sofa cushions. He was glad to see it.

“We’re old friends. We met years ago, nearly ten years. She was so young. Beautiful, as she is now. She was just beginning her exploration of Shibari. I used her as a model for demonstrations and quickly discovered she was a top. She didn’t know it herself until then.”

“Ah, you were lovers.”

Was that a note of disappointment he heard in her voice?

“No, we never were. It would have been a horrendous power struggle. We became friends instead. Although we were less close the years she was with Nathan.”

“Nathan?”

“Her lover. Her submissive. They had a very intense relationship. He died of cancer four years ago. Marina stayed away from the clubs for a good year after that. She came back eventually, but she hasn’t played a man since.”

“How awful.”

“Yes.”

He caught her gaze, found her eyes swimming with tears. She didn’t seem at all self-conscious about it.

Why, if she could cry in front of him, couldn’t she let go within the ropes? It was more than simply feeling vulnerable. After what she’d told him this evening he felt he had some grasp on it, but how to help her break through?

Have to see the girl again
.

Oh, yes
.

He wrapped his fingers around her hand, squeezed it. “Let’s talk about next time, and what I’ll require you to do in between.”

She nodded her head, shifted on the sofa, her breasts pushing against the corset-like dress. He was still half hard for her. Had been since she’d arrived, except for when he’d bound her, when he’d been as solid as a steel pipe. It didn’t matter what they were talking about. They could talk about the weather.