Submissive Desires (14 page)

While she was trying to find a way to escape – which he was pretty sure she’d never be able to do, considering the system of straps he used – he rolled towards her, unabashedly naked and lightly bronzed and obviously muscular and fit.

And, apparently in no hurry to release her. One big hand found and claimed her tummy as he settled onto his side.

Maura raised an eyebrow at him tellingly. “Well?”

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“Well what?” Sometimes he was so annoyingly laconic that his lips barely moved when he spoke, full mustache barely twitching.

“Untie me.”

One bushy eyebrow rose. “Are you giving the orders in this relationship all of a sudden?”

Even exhausted as she was, still throbbing – although it was receding – with unrequited, unfulfilled lust from him leaving her hanging that second time, she still knew enough from that slightly scolding tone to squirm automatically. “No, Sir.”

“Don’t forget that again, Maura.”

“Yes, Sir.”

His hand didn’t stay still – it wandered up and down while she was pretty much helpless to do anything about it, and she found out quickly that if she moved too much, he would administer sharp smacks to the tender fronts of her thighs to discourage her from doing that. So all she could do was lie there and be touched, whether she liked it or not.

And her body loved it. It only took seconds for her interest to be rekindled to its former sharp, aching degree. Goose bumps rose everywhere he touched, and her nipples immediately tightened as if inviting him to play with them in any way he chose, and of course he chose to hurt them, to punish them for their impudence. They found themselves pinched very, very hard, one at a time, then tugged and pulled and twisted while Maura whimpered and groaned with no hope of finding any relief from this wonderful torture.

“Your nipples are beautiful – you are beautiful.”

She couldn’t suppress a snort, and got her breast spanked for her efforts. Her angry eyes found his, rebellion brewing in them at that affront.

But he had calmly returned to twirling the nipple of the same breast that had just felt his wrath.

By way of explanation, he said, “I don’t ever want to hear you denigrate yourself.” He caught her chin just as she was about to snort again, forcing her to look in his eyes to emphasize the importance of what he was saying. “And if I ever hear it again, even joking, you’re going to get a real punishment session.”

Her eyes were huge, and she stumbled over her words. “What would you consider what I just got, dare I ask?”

“I meant with all the accoutrement and accompanying rituals, which I believe I remember you said you wanted and needed?”

Damn the man for his good memory! Wanting to steer him away from that topic, she asked with a wealth of curiosity, “How would you rate the spanking you gave me, then? Easy?” She choked on the word. “Hard? Medium?”

Simon cleared his throat, letting her nipples go to address her question seriously, since she sounded like it was something she was worried about. “I think you could consider that that was a pretty normal, average spanking for me. Something you’ll get anytime you’re with me and you misbehave.”

Maura’s breath hissed in through her lips. Dear Lord! That was an average spanking from him?

He seemed to consider what he was saying carefully. “Of course, if and when we ever decide to be together on a more continual basis, then you will be receiving weekly spankings that will probably be very much like that, too – or maybe harder, depending on how you’ve behaved yourself during the week.”

Simon watched her carefully, not wanting to miss even the most subtle nuance of her reaction to what he was saying – and there were lots of them. Her legs had grown restless, as if she was doing the spanked girl dance in the bed, and he was surprised that wasn’t hurting her already well-punished bottom.

Her pupils were dilated, and her breathing, which had been calming down if slowly, was becoming more rapid. Her nipples were taut and looked sore, but he guessed that was his fault.

It was an extremely rare thing to find a woman who truly desired harsh, punitive spankings. If he’d found her, and it seemed he had, then Simon, who was wired up to get a lot out of delivering such disciplinary measures, was going to do everything in his power to get her and keep her. He wanted her 59

under his roof. As soon as possible. He could see that a few stolen weekends, here and there, was not going to cut it for long.

But Maura had an independent streak a mile wide, and Simon didn’t want to truly crush it, but rather curb it to his will. He would have to continue to proceed delicately, lest she bolt and run . . . not that he would have any compunction at all, after this weekend especially, about hunting her down and dragging her back to his cave. Nope. No qualms whatsoever.

Maura didn’t like the look in his eye . . . he looked more determined than she’d ever seen him, and his grin was almost demonic.

And he still hadn’t let her go.

He didn’t even look like he was thinking about letting her go. He looked like he was thinking of eating her whole, forget the fava beans and Chianti.

But instead what he did was latch onto her throbbing, aching nipple and suckle hard, biting and chewing avidly while his hand reached down and tapped on the inside of her near thigh. It was in the back of Maura’s mind to play stupid, but then she accidentally rubbed her bottom against the sheets and started at the burning sensation that small movement caused.

So she did as he commanded, not really wanting to, but then the thought struck her that that was, indeed, the essence of submission – doing what you were told regardless of your own feelings about doing it.

“More,” he mumbled, keeping her nipple trapped painfully between his teeth, moving his lips only enough to brush his mustache against her until she had spread herself wide enough for his tastes. “Good girl.”

Those rough fingers sought and found what they wanted as if they’d made this trek thousands of times before instead of only once, sliding down to dip themselves into her still gushing opening, then back up to rub with gentle insistence over the center of her pleasure, bringing her to the very edge again with incredible ease, making her squirm and groan to the tune he called.

He almost told her that she had to wait for permission to come, but then he decided against it, just because he wanted to be able to watch everything about her as she orgasmed, and, seconds later, he did – he saw her totally lose control, her face scrunched, growling and groaning loud and low as she arched and bucked against his hand. He would not be dislodged, however, and forced her to ride the whole thing out at the behest of his fingers, jerking and jumping spasmodically at the end until he leaned down and kissed her, then reached up and let her go.

Maura was too exhausted, too wrung out to move her arms for a very long time, despite the fact that she had been struggling the whole time to be able to do that very thing. When she did, her shoulders hurt a little at first, but Simon saw her grimace and immediately began to massage her.

Somehow feeling . . . almost disconnected from the situation – and certainly from the man who had touched her so intimately and brought her such indescribable pain and ecstasy, yet who professed no particular feelings towards her beyond wanting to spank and control her – Maura got up and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her and sitting on the pot mechanically to pee.

She got up, washed her hands meticulously, then stared at herself in the mirror for a moment, wondering what the hell she was doing here. She’d never been one to sleep around, no matter how horny she got. She could always take care of herself in that department, better than most men, she’d thought sarcastically. Simon, though, had been pretty much irresistible from the beginning.

But neither of them had professed any great love, or any depth of feeling whatsoever. It was entirely unlike her to be in a hotel room with a man who was, in essence a stranger that she had happened to hook up with on the Net who shared her predilection for bondage and discipline.

Was she crazy? Had being alone for so long driven her to these lengths just to get laid?

All of a sudden, it was just too much for her, and as she watched in the unforgivingly harsh glare of the mirror, her eyes filled to overflowing with tears that trickled down her cheeks, and she began to sob, absently turning on both the fan and the water, hoping to drown out the sounds of her sorrow, knowing 60

she couldn’t explain how she was feeling to him and not wanting him to come barging in, asking unnecessary questions.

However Simon, who had rolled onto his back and was lying with an arm over his eyes, pretty much mind-numbingly sated and almost eerily content with how things were going so far, had been blessed with exceptionally keen hearing, especially in the upper ranges. He ignored the first squeak, putting it down to the usual vagaries of hotel heating systems, but then he heard it again, slightly louder, and much more plaintive, and there was no mistaking where that sound came from: a crying woman.

In a flash, he was knocking on the door, his hand already testing the knob. Locked, of course, not that that would be much of a deterrent. He wrapped his knuckles loudly. “Maura? Are you all right?” He’d already decided that if she sounded distressed in the slightest, that he was going to bust the door down.

He could barely detect some sniffling, and then a weak, teary, and highly questionable, “I’m fine.”

Since it didn’t sound like she was doing anything but crying, he decided to give her the chance to avoid him bursting in. “Maura, open the door immediately.”

She surprised him by doing exactly as he’d asked, with what he concluded was very little hesitation. He heard the lock turn, and then the door was opened just a crack. He barged in, trying to assess quickly whether or not there was any sort of real problem, or if she was just having one of those crying jags women were so fond of. He was worried she’d been truly hurt somehow, although he couldn’t have said how.

Maura had had just about enough time to dash most of the tears from her eyes, and wipe the rest off her wet cheeks, making herself look minimally presentable before she unlocked the door and opened it only enough that he could see that it was unlocked, then went back to damage control.

As she expected, the door was shoved open and he stormed in, as if he expected to find her struggling with a kidnapper or something – all set to play “rescue the damsel”, muscles bulging and testosterone at full force.

But there was nothing for him to do once he got in there but breathe down her neck. “Are you all right?” His eyes quickly scanned her face, not missing the smallest of details. “Don’t answer that.

Obviously you’re not. From now on, if you go into the bathroom for any reason, the door stays open.”

Her attempts to protest fell on deaf ears as he grabbed her none too gently by the upper arm and pulled her out of the bathroom, back to the bed she’d just left, hustling her over enough so that he could climb in beside her, stretching out on his side to throw a thick arm over her stomach and pin her to his side on her back. “Now. You’re going to tell me what the hell all of that was about.”

Maura took a peek at Simon’s eyes and facial expression, and they looked exactly as she’d expected tem too: uncompromising and stern. With a heavy, almost dramatic sigh that was unusual for her character, she stared down at her own toes as if discovering them for the first time, biting her lip almost bloody and trying to figure out how to tell him what she was feeling and thinking.

She should have remembered from previous experience that he was not the most patient of individuals. Before she had a chance to really collect her thoughts, her taut nipple was being held between his index finger and thumb somewhat threateningly. “Maura, answer me,” he ordered, pinching just the slightest bit.

“Stop – don’t!” she wailed uselessly. When her hand came up to try to dislodge his, all she accomplished was to make him pull and pinch the poor abused nipple even harder.

“You know better than that,” he said in a tone that reminded her of her father’s when she’d done something like swear or tell a lie.

But Maura was not a wimp – submissive or not. “You’ve gotta give me a little time to think before I answer, though – I’m not trying to disobey you or avoid answering. I’m just trying to arrange my thoughts so I can convey them to you intelligently.”

He looked into her eyes, somber and serious, then released her nipple, apparently having found the truth of her words there.

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She took as much time as she needed, knowing he was watching her and missing nothing about how she was fidgeting with the sheet and licking her lips nervously. “I just – “ Tears rose up to choke her voice, and she fought them down. They weren’t really doing her any good at this point, and she didn’t want to be weak in front of him, which was probably a stupid concern, considering that she was his submissive, but that didn’t mean that she was anyone’s doormat.

Tired of waiting, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Did I hurt you?”

Maura gave him a raised-eyebrow disbelieving glance. How could he possibly ask her that after he’d whaled on her with that paddle? Her bottom was still throbbing and stinging from his assault!

“When I made love to you?” he added, seeing her look.

She squirmed uncomfortably. “No. It was just . . . incredibly intense.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. “And that was bad enough to send you into the bathroom to sob like your heart’d been ripped out behind a locked door?”

Well, when he put it like that . . . “I needed to cry. I need to be alone to cry.”

Simon tipped her chin and caught her eyes, which were already misted over again just thinking about it. “Not any more you don’t. If you need to cry, you come to me.”

Maura swallowed hard. “Uhhhh, okaaaaaaay.”

Her reply could not have been more tepid or doubtful, so his expression became darker and more stern. “Is that the correct response?”

The light bulb went on over her head. “Yes, Sir.”