The Dark Art of Persuasion (2 page)

He’ll have to make his peace with Grace later, reassure her that all is indeed well with the delightful little violinist she’s taken under her wing. And it will be. He turns his attention fully back to Eva, using his finger to tip her chin up, forcing her to meet and hold his gaze. There’s to be no escape now, no evasion. Now it’s just the two of them, and their relationship is about to shift. He’s controlling it, totally dominant, totally in charge. But he needs her willing participation. And he knows just how to get it.

First, with words. “Miss Byrne, Eva… I want you to come.” He lets the suggestive phrase linger, only just managing not to lick his lips in anticipation as the range of possible connotations sinks in. He can’t help but smile, his satisfaction with her ready response evident. She is so totally open, so readable, so expressive. Her brain might be struggling to process all this, to come to terms with what’s happening between them, but a swift glance down at her nipples, now erect and jutting against the thin fabric of her T-shirt is enough to convince him her body’s right up there with him. And it’s time to home in on her body.

He lowers his hand, gently, slowly trailing the backs of his fingers down her neck and across her collar bone. He slips his hand farther, lower, until he feathers the backs of his fingers across her taut nipple, first one, then the other. Her eyes widen in surprise, as if she can’t believe he’s really doing this. And more to the point, that she’s really letting him.

Oh, yes, baby.

He can feel her nipples hardening even more under his questing fingers, but he’s careful not to rush. And he doesn’t forget what this is about, his primary goal. Catching her gaze again, but maintaining the contact with her breast, now gently caressing the lower curves, he repeats his request. Or is that his command?

“Come with me.”

Her lips part on a gasp, and for a moment he wonders if she’s going to take his instruction literally and come right here. Now wouldn’t that be sweet? He continues to lightly stroke her breasts, deliberately grazing his fingers across her nipples over the loose fabric, lightly, not enough to create the intensity of friction she needs to build the arousal, but enough to suggest, to tease, to tempt. He continues to murmur his persuasive words, urging her to come with him to the dinner, enjoy an evening together, eating, drinking, then an overnight stay in Leeds…

That’s the crux of it, the prospect of spending the night with him. Here’s where she either refuses point blank or—doesn’t refuse. And she isn’t agreeing, not quite yet, but she hasn’t turned him down flat. And he knows, the moment she starts to make excuses, that she’s considering it.

He drops his hands from her breasts and smiles inwardly at the small moan of disappointment she seems unable to contain.
Oh yes, darling, you are so made for this…

He hears her deep gasp as she sucks in a lungful of air, and realises she must have been holding her breath as he caressed her.
How absolutely wonderful.
He wastes no time now in slipping his hand under the T-shirt to quickly slide his palm back up her body to cup her naked breast. His tone is low, still sensuous, still whispering those persuasive, sensual words into her ear as he lightly feathers his fingertips over her swollen, hard nipples. He feels her shift towards him, subconsciously seeking more. More pressure, more friction, more intensity. He obliges, taking her right nipple between his thumb and forefinger and rolling it. He squeezes, not much, nowhere near enough to hurt, but sufficient to absolutely grab her attention and hold it.

Completely caught up in the moment, her doubts seem to evaporate as she arches her back, offering her breasts to him, and he accepts. He cups her right breast, moulding the soft, firm curves in his hand as she writhes and squirms in her seat. He face falls forward to bury itself against his shoulder, and he knows she’s battling with her rapidly shredding modesty. He needs to deal with that, and fast. He needs her to face this, to know and accept her desires, to surrender to him.

Gently but firmly he cups the back of her head and eases her away from his shoulder. He tilts her face upwards, catching her gaze, now heating to match his own, before he lowers his head to brush his lips across her mouth. The kiss is light, reassuring, intended to calm and soothe. It does its work, and he feels her mouth relax under his. He teases his tongue along the seam of her lips, and as she opens he slips inside, savouring and testing and exploring. She opens wider, letting him in at the same time as she lifts her arms to loop them around his neck. No longer just the quiet, passive recipient, she’s participating now, tangling her tongue with his as her arousal builds.

Nathan doesn’t want her active participation though, not yet. For now, he wants her to receive and accept. He breaks the kiss, ignoring her moan of protest, and moves quickly. He grasps the bottom of her T-shirt and before she’s quite realised what he intends he’s pulled it up and over her head, dropping it on the floor behind her. He’s ready for her instinctive reaction, and grasps her wrists as he moves to cover her now naked breasts. He pulls her arms down to her sides, leaning forward to place her hands behind her on the chair. He firmly folds his fingers over hers, placing her hands in a secure grip on the back of her seat. Wordlessly she grasps it, her eyes on his, watching him with a mixture of surprise, embarrassment, and unless he’s sadly mistaken, a healthy dollop of lust.

Perfect. Now for the acid test.

“Don’t let go of the seat and don’t try to cover yourself again, or I’ll tie you to that chair.” He waits, careful not to let even the merest glimpse of his anxiety show as he waits for her to announce that he’s not tying her to anything. If she’s going to bolt, now’s the moment, the tipping point. He places his finger under her chin, forcing her to make eye contact again. He needs to see her response.

And he is not disappointed. Her eyes widen, her lips part, her breathing hitches, and she grips the chair like the perfect little sub he knew she was. Almost groaning with relief, he presses the point.

“Got that, Miss Byrne? Are we clear?” He knows he has to insist on an answer, her consent has to be unambiguous. And he has it as her whispered “Yes” hangs between them.

He smiles again, instinctively knowing she needs his approval. They’ve not discussed her previous sexual experience, but he’s sure down to his toenails that this is all new to her, and new submissives crave favour, need to know that they are appreciated, that what they’re doing pleases their Dom. Nathan does not intend to disappoint Eva.

“Excellent.” His smile is deliberately warm as he admires her perfect breasts now displayed for him. Small, but full and absolutely exquisite. The nipples are swollen, hard as pebbles, a lovely shade of raspberry pink. He lifts his hands again to explore further, just his fingertips at first, lightly stroking the lower curves, then right up to the hard tips. He can’t resist taking one of those swollen tips again between his finger and thumb, rolling it as he murmurs his admiration.

“Your breasts are exquisite. I love your nipples. Always hard, swollen, so responsive. I’ve been wanting to touch them, to see them, since that first night. And now I know that they’re a gorgeous dark pink. I had wondered…”

He glances up, and is not surprised to see the flush creeping along her face. She always blushes so very easily, does Miss Byrne. It’s one of the things he finds most delightful about her. He sees her inner battle as again her expression is unhidden, her emotions parading across her face. Embarrassment, bewilderment perhaps at how she found herself in this situation, and some modesty but happily not too much, it would seem. And, what’s that, self-doubt? He wonders where that might have come from as, sure enough, she tries to dismiss his words.

“They’re not very big. No one usually notices them.”

Nathan fully appreciates the importance of self-esteem in a submissive, the awareness that her body is beautiful, that
she
is beautiful, and he automatically responds. His tone is low, but firm as he sets her straight. “Oh, I think they do, Miss Byrne. I did, from the first time you stood dripping in my hallway with your pretty little boobs poking at me through your T-shirt. Your breasts are perfect, Miss Byrne. Sweet, round, they fit in my hands just beautifully.” He takes a moment to cup her breasts again, and lightly rubs his thumbs over the tight, swollen nipples, so sensitive under his touch. “And when you blush—and Miss Byrne, you are always blushing it seems to me—the glow reaches here too. That’s the beauty of fair skin. And no freckles, I see. At least, none I’ve found yet…?”

He wonders if she might offer to show him more of herself, or at least tell him about her freckles, but instead she just gazes at him in undisguised astonishment. Settling for that, he leans in to kiss her again. This time her mouth opens immediately, and he slips his tongue inside, delighted as she instantly responds and tentatively pokes her tongue into his mouth. He welcomes it, sucking it, drawing her farther and farther in. He feels her start to shudder under his hands, his mouth, and knows it’s time to ratchet up the action still further.

He breaks the kiss, taking a few moments to nibble Eva’s neck before suddenly reaching down and lifting her from the chair. She’s light and unresisting, easily positioned on the table top, stretched out on her back. He takes both her wrists in one of his hands and draws them back behind her head, holding them there while he admires her. Taking his time, he positions himself between her legs, standing over her, and slowly, deliberately, he possessively runs his free hand down her body, from her neck to her waist. He can’t help the low murmur of approval.

“Beautiful… Holy fuck, so lovely.” And to emphasise his point, he leans in to take her right nipple between his lips.

Her reaction is instantaneous. She squeals, even though he’s sure she sensed this coming. He can feel her writhing under him, though not in any attempt to escape. His body weight and holding her wrist keeps her in place as he continues to suckle her expertly. He uses his tongue and his teeth, scraping, licking, sucking, and feels her go wild under him. Christ, she’s so responsive, so bloody receptive. And absolutely delicious. He opens his mouth wider, taking more of her soft breast inside, again sucking hard. Her back arches, she’s offering herself to him now, beyond modesty, beyond embarrassment, just driven by need.

He gladly takes what she offers, moving to the other breast to repeat his ministrations. Her back is arching as she instinctively lifts her breasts up towards his mouth, but he can’t resist taking control of her even so. He slides his free hand underneath her, palm up, and lifts her shoulders from the table to provide him with even readier access for his lips, his teeth, his tongue. Experimentally, he nips her with his teeth, just a little, but enough to hurt. Only slightly, he doesn’t want to scare her, but enough to let her know the score, to let her know how this is going to be between them.

He feels the moment she goes limp in his arms, totally surrendering to him, and he releases her wrists. She makes no attempt to lift her arms, and he’s supporting the entire weight of her upper body now. He brings his other hand under her too, to hold her still and steady as he continues to build his assault. And she continues to respond, her moans now breathy, her body flexing as he nips her again, slightly harder this time, her only reaction to the pain a soft whimper.

Christ, she’s so bloody perfect. He wants her, now.

But there’s still work to be done. She’s totally absorbed in what he’s doing to her, and he realises she might just be able to come with this alone, just by having him tease and suck her nipples.
God, what a find!
She’s whimpering in earnest now, forming words.

“I can’t. Please, it’s too much…”

He lifts his head, releasing her breast just long enough to answer her, to urge her on. ”Yes, you can, you are. Don’t fight it. Come for me. Now. Come now.” He returns to his work, taking her right nipple into his mouth and working it mercilessly as he senses her orgasm is just around the corner, that she’s stretching, grasping, reaching for it. He moves to the left nipple, sucks, bites, and she’s there.

He continues to suckle and lick as the sweet shivers of her climax tremble under his mouth. He feels her body convulse, her hips jerk upwards. And she screams, actually screams as the release seizes her. Her legs are spread wide and his erection is pressed hard against her mound, she rubs herself against him, and he’s sure she has no consciousness that she’s doing so. Her need is deep and all-consuming, and she’s beyond any attempt to suppress or conceal it from him. Not that he’d allow that.

At last Eva’s desperate shudders subside, and he hears her barely audible moan of quiet satisfaction as he lowers her back onto the table. He glances up, and is gratified, if slightly surprised, to catch her expression of pure astonishment, as though she can’t quite believe what just happened. And is still happening. He’s nowhere near finished with her yet. He’s thoroughly enjoyed witnessing her unravel before his eyes, but he still needs her agreement that she’ll be coming with him to Leeds. There’s much more at stake here than a quick and sexy romp on his kitchen table, no matter how delightful that may be for them both.

Her expression is still slightly dazed, and he waits a few more moments for her senses to fully return. He doesn’t want her looking back on this and feeling in any way rushed. Or worse still, coerced. He wants her willing surrender, her genuine agreement to submit for him. Under him. Nothing less will do.

As her eyes appear to focus, he smiles at her before dropping a light kiss on her lips. He straightens, and his eyes never leaving hers, he lifts the hem of her short miniskirt. He leans over her again, this time sliding his left hand under the hem of her skirt as he gazes down at her. He watches her eyes widen as he tugs down the front of her opaque tights and briefs, and wordlessly slips his hand between her legs. He slides his fingers between her moist folds, noting with intense satisfaction how very, very wet she is. He’s tempted to comment on what a good time she appears to be having but instead settles for simply parting the lips of her pussy and tracing the entrance with his fingertips. Her thighs widen as he leans in farther, her mouth parting in what he decides to take as welcome.