Bound With Pearls (12 page)

The heat from the ginger burned but it wasn’t painful. Just intense. Her muscles clenched around it and each time the burning grew worse. Her channel grew slick, accumulating so much moisture she feared she’d leave a rather unbecoming mark on her couch. The urge to squirm was all-consuming. She clenched her thighs together and gripped the cushions tighter to attempt to keep herself still.

“How’s it feeling?” Daniel’s tone was amused. He stood on the other side of the coffee table, arms crossed over his chest, watching her. While she’d been focused on the sensation happening between her legs, he’d lit the rest of the candles and spread them around. It would be romantic if it weren’t for the damn ginger.

“It tingles and burns. I want to take it off, Sir.” She knew whatever he had planned was worse, but she didn’t care.

“Suit yourself.” His quick compliance struck a wary chord in the back of her mind, but the prospect of immediate relief was more important.

She sighed when he pulled her legs apart and extracted the sliver. Her pussy was beyond wet and she tingled, the wanting turned to fiery need deep in her core.

“Up.” He smacked her thigh with the flat of his palm. “Knees on the cushions and bend over the back of the couch.”

She scrambled to comply, digging her hands into the plush fabric. Her pussy tingled in anticipation from the ginger. Twisting to watch over her shoulder, a moan was torn from her lips as he thrust his fingers deep inside her and stroked her inner muscles.

“Very nice,” was all he said.

She tried to hold still as he plunged his fingers deeper but she couldn’t. She wanted more of his touch. Burying her face into the cushions, she whimpered and pushed back on his hand.

He pulled his fingers out of her and splayed his hands on her ass, spreading her cheeks. That was a surprise. Straightening her spine, she peered over her shoulder at him studying her.

“S-sir?”

He put his finger, wet from her juices, against the tight pucker of her anus. “How experienced are you when it comes to anal?”

Her heart hammered. “A bit.”

“Just plugs?”

She shook her head.

“Push back, baby.”

She didn’t want to. She didn’t like having her ass toyed with. Maybe she was too uptight, because she could never relax and enjoy it.

But this wasn’t about her. Sucking in a deep breath, she reminded herself Daniel was in charge, and ultimately she got out of their play what she put into it. By willingly doing something, even if she didn’t want to, she made him happy, and that made her happy. It was a crazy circle that made sense to her and helped settle her nerves.

She pushed back against his finger and concentrated on relaxing her muscles. At first, her lower body coiled tighter. She tipped her head back and thought of how nice it had been to sleep in Daniel’s arms. He’d held her, even snuggled her closer when she’d tried to give him some room. Slowly her muscles loosened.

Daniel’s finger probed past the tight sphincter. Her stomach clenched at the invasion but she breathed through it, concentrating on the residual warm, fuzzy feelings as he pushed deeper. She felt the brush of his knuckles against her cheek. It had been ages since she’d had anal. Her muscles stretched and complained around his girth and it was only a finger. Was he planning on putting something larger in there?

“Good.” He patted her ass and withdrew.

She buried her face deeper in the cushions and tried to focus. It wasn’t as if she’d never had anal sex, it had just been a while. It made sense that she was nervous.

Something blunt and cool rested against her bottom.

“Hold still,” Daniel said before she could ask what he was doing.

The tip of—something—was wedged into her ass. Not as thick as his finger, but cold. Lifting her head, she peeked over her shoulder again. He held a strange-looking plug to her backside. Her muscles constricted around a dip in the plug and stilled.

“How’s that feel?” He stroked her hip and met her gaze.

She considered it for a moment. It was cool, sort of like the sensation she got when she used shampoo with menthol but with more bite.

“It’s okay.” It actually wasn’t bad. At least not as bad as she’d been feeling about having his thick cock delving into her ass. She didn’t want to tell him how relieved she was. A plug she could handle, it gave a certain fullness when fucked.

“Good.”

His hand rose and her muscles clenched of their own volition. The first blow wasn’t hard, but it felt as if something had gone off inside her. She couldn’t wrap her mind around it because Daniel was already striking her bottom again. He spanked her, varying where the blows landed and never very hard. Despite the relatively mild nature of the spanking, she still yelped and dug her fingers into the couch. Why was her ass burning?

“Holy fuck,” she gasped when another blow didn’t come.

“Something wrong?”

“Did you—did you?” She sucked in a breath as the tingling sensation turned into a slow burn.

“It’s ginger. You didn’t think I was just firing up your pussy, did you? Up.” He grabbed her elbow and tugged her off the back of the couch.

He sat on the couch, his arms sprawled over the back of the sofa. He lifted a brow and glanced at his lap. She knew what he wanted. He’d told her about his little fantasy when they’d cuddled in his bed. She hadn’t taken him seriously. Hell, she hadn’t known she’d be seeing him after that one time.

“Chris?”

She moved slowly, hyperaware of the plug and her body. Lying across his lap with her ass across his legs wasn’t exactly comfortable. It put a lot of her weight on her stomach and breasts. In a way, it gave her something else to think about besides the root in her ass. She flinched when he placed his palm against one cheek and began stroking her skin down to the curve of her leg.

The sound on the TV slowly increased, adding an odd background noise of chatter and choreographed laughter to the tension in her body. No sooner had she tried to relax and breathe past the burning than he gave the plug a twist.

She moaned and shimmied her ass, wishing the damn plug would disappear. Instead he pushed it in even deeper. She wiggled her toes and gripped her wrists to try to keep her squirming to a minimum.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Hold still.” The anger in his voice ceased all movement. Sweat broke out along her hairline and down her spine. Her toes curled and she gripped the couch cushions tighter. “I said…” He twisted the plug and, holy shit, the burning! She cried out as her ass was stretched to uncomfortable limits. “Hold still.”

The couch fabric slid out from between her fingers and she fisted air. Deep breaths. He hadn’t hurt her, only surprised her.

“Sorry, Sir.” She couldn’t help the whimper or the helpless movements of her hips. The more she tried to be still, the tighter her muscles constricted around the ginger and the more it burned. Her pussy practically wept.

The apology wasn’t good enough. He administered four hard blows to her bottom, hard enough she knew she’d have bruises. With each blow, the burning from the plug intensified until her entire focus centered on taking one more breath. She didn’t dare move. Daniel’s hands began tracing the lines of her tattoo and his focus, for all she could tell, was back on the TV, while she was left to simmer.

How long he let her suffer, she didn’t know. At some point the sensation leveled off. It still burned like hell. She had sweat slicking her armpits and sides, but she could handle it.

The jingle for a pizza chain she recognized came across the TV. It was the first thing she was able to focus on besides the ginger and not moving.

“Time to get serious, Chris.”

He gave the plug another twist and pushed it until she could feel his hand brushing her cheeks. She gasped into the cushions, muttering curses under her breath as the heat ratcheted up. This time he didn’t give her time to adjust. He smacked her ass, hips and upper thighs. With her face buried in the couch, she couldn’t tell where the next blow was going to land. Her body was on fire, her clit throbbed and her pussy was drenched. She ached and burned and wanted.

“Up,” he ordered with one last blow.

Gritting her teeth, she clambered to her feet. Her limbs felt as if they were made from lead, but she needed that weight to keep her head from floating off her shoulders. Blood surged to her head and her vision hazed for a moment. But Daniel was there. He gripped her shoulders and steered her to the couch, nudging her knees and placing her hands on the cushions until she leaned over the back of the sofa again.

She buried her face in the rough fabric and moaned in relief as he eased the taper from her, muttering things she couldn’t hear over her own breathing and the murmur from the TV. She sobbed a sigh of relief but it was fleeting. The burning might be gone, but her body vibrated with unfulfilled lust.

“You okay?” He gathered her braid into his hand and pulled it to the side, tilting her face so she could glance up at him from the corner of her eye.

“Yes,” she said between breaths. “Give me a second, please?”

He chuckled and kissed her shoulder, his lips lingering over a tiny scar she’d had since childhood. “Since you asked politely, yes.” He sank back down and twisted to watch her.

She clamped her legs together and wiggled. It felt as if a million tiny fingers crawled over her thighs and mound.

“Let me help you with that.” He pulled her over to straddle his lap.

Her hands flattened against his chest. She wanted to rub against him, touch him and, more than anything, she wanted to fuck.

“Chris?” He cupped the back of her head and pulled her face down to his.

She was horny as hell and he was hot. She pressed her lips against his, sucking his lower lip into her mouth and nipping it with her teeth. She kissed him viciously because she needed to. He allowed it, letting her press into his mouth and control the kiss. It was a heady feeling to be in control, to be the one forcing her tongue into his mouth and yanking on his hair to move his head.

He wrapped her braid around his hand and pulled her back, gasping for breath.

“Damn,” he growled, running his free hand over hers. “Kitty has claws.”

“I want you.” All sense of modesty had flown out the window.

“I want you to unzip my pants and take my cock out. Can you keep your claws to yourself and do that?”

She nodded, already sliding her hands down his chest, relishing the feel of his hair against her palms and caressing the ridges and valleys of muscle. He had a great body, muscular, with a light dusting of hair and enough roughness to back up the dangerous vibes. She fumbled with the button on his jeans, trying not to be rough. He tucked his hand inside his pants, helping her to ease the zipper down without catching his dick against the teeth.

“Chris, there’s a condom in my pocket. Take it out and put it on me.”

The candlelight flickered across his face, casting shadows that made him look as if he’d stepped out of her dreams. He could be a figment of her imagination right now and would she know the difference? Their gazes held as she slid her hand into first one pocket and then another looking for the condom. Her breasts slid across his chest, the wiry hair scraping her sensitive nipples until she shivered against him.

In the dim light it was hard to read the nuances of his expression, but she could feel their mingled desire as if it were a drumbeat in the room.

He was real. Very much real.

She was almost disappointed when she grasped the condom and pulled it free on her first try. Since he wasn’t directing her, she slowly opened the packet, savoring the moment and moving in time with the pulse pounding through her veins. Making him groan as she rolled the protection on was a payback worth relishing slowly. For good measure, she cupped his balls. It wasn’t the same as what he’d done to her, but right now she didn’t care.

“Christine.” He gave her hair a tug, focusing her attention on his face. “Fuck. Me.”

For a second her brain scrambled. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d been given the freedom to be in control. He couldn’t know what he was giving her. It wasn’t something she even knew she wanted until the moment when she stared deep into his blue eyes.

“Sir?” Her voice cracked.

“I didn’t stutter.” He released her hair and feathered his hands down her chest, plucking her nipples before landing to rest on her hips.

Her body was on fire, figuratively and literally. She could ponder his reasons all night or she could do what they both wanted.

Rising to her knees, she grasped his cock with one hand and steadied herself against the couch with the other. She ached for him. Instead of teasing or priming his cock with her juices, she positioned him at her entrance and sank down, impaling herself. She could feel every ridge, vein and bulge of his cock as he slid deep within her channel.

They groaned. He clutched her hips, grinding their joined bodies together while she dug one hand into his hair and clung to the couch with the other. They stayed like that, panting and clinging to each other until the sexual haze thinned. His hold on her hips gentled, allowing her to be the master of her movements.

She rose shakily on her knees, clenching her inner muscles around his cock. He muttered under his breath as she swiveled her hips just before he slipped free. As she sank back down, he grunted, his spine bowing up from the couch. Again she rose up on her knees, but faster. Her body was strung too tight, the sensations too strong for anything but a push to the climax.