Undone Rebel (Undone Lovers, Book One) (7 page)

Addie flexed her hips, rubbing her clit against it. “Oh, oh fuck ye—” she bit back the words, not wanting him to stop, or to end up gagged.

“Why did you stop talking?”

“I don’t want you to gag me or not fuck me.”

“Hmm, you haven’t learned yet. What do you need before you can come?”

What was it? Oh.

“Lane, I need to come. I want to come. If you don’t fuck me, don’t make me come, I think I’ll go insane. Please.” The words tumbled from her, one after the other.

Lane slid the dildo from her clit to the entrance to her sex. “You may come.” He pushed the dildo into her with one firm thrust.

Addie was so tight, so aroused that she felt it open her, felt each glorious, blessed inch filling her. She came up on her toes, almost tipped forward. Lane grabbed her waist, held her in place as he drew the glass dildo out of body and thrust it in again.

“Oh, oh yes. Oh fuck!”

Addie was there, that first shock of fullness taking her to the precipice of orgasm. Lane’s fingers dipped into her sex, circling the entrance to her body where the dildo held her open, down to her clit. He circled her clit as he thrust the dildo in a third time and Addie came.

She screamed, the sound echoing off the metal roof high above their heads.

SJ snapped a photo of the bent and naked, bound woman, metal dangling from her nipples, a fully dressed Dom manipulating a dildo in her sex. “Beautiful.”

Chapter Three

Addie pushed the carrot sticks on her plate around with her finger.

“Did you want something else? I can go get you some fast food.” Lane touched the back of her hand as he spoke, stilling her restless carrot play.

“No, I’m fine.” Addie wished she could toss off the comment, throw back her head and smile at him as if what had just happened hadn’t affected her. She couldn’t. Instead she whispered the words, staring at the edges of the black satin robe he’d given her to wear.

They were on their lunch break, seated on white plastic folding chairs in a corner of the sound stage sectioned off by pipe and drape. The lunch spread of sandwiches, fruit and veggies was nice, but Addie couldn’t bring herself to eat anything more than a few strawberries. She felt…vulnerable, as if Lane had stripped away more than her clothes. Time and distance from him, this place, would help her get herself together and remember who she was, what she could be. With Lane sitting next to her, his knee touching hers, his body heat a tempting source of warmth in the chilly warehouse-like sound stage, Addie couldn’t find that balance, couldn’t remake herself.

“You have to eat something.”

“I’m not very hungry.”

“You have to have more than a bit of fruit. Eat something.”

“Stop ordering me around.” Anger flooded her, burning away the powerlessness that had filled her. Addie met Lane’s gaze with her own. “You may get to order me around when we’re in your fakey bedroom, but outside of it,
muchacho
, you’re not my father so back off.”

Lane nodded. “Okay, I was just worried about you. You were really quiet.”

Addie crossed her legs, taking her time so he had no choice but to watch her. Her robe fell open to the top of her thigh, showing off the lace top of the stockings she still wore. Lane smiled and shook his head.

“Thinking. I do that. You should try it. Though maybe not enough blood has returned to your brain?” Addie looked to his crotch. She’d noticed—it would have been hard not to—the raging hard-on he sported when he and SJ released her from the ropes and helped her into the robe after their session.

“Kind of you to notice.” He winced in an exaggerated manner and adjusted his jeans.

“You’re not going to take care of that?”

“Are you offering to help?”

Addie tipped her head to the side as if she were considering it. “Hmm.”

Lane’s eyes widened.

“Nope, I’m not.”

“Cold. That’s cold, woman.”

“Your right hand is sure to help you out.”

“I’m left-handed.”

“I wondered why that biceps was bigger.”

“Next time you’re quiet I’ll have to remember to let you stay quiet. You’ve got a sassy mouth.” But he grinned as he said it.

“I think you like sassy, strong women.” Which, considering what he’d just done to her, made no sense at all.

“As my grandpa would say, ‘Damn me for a fool,’ I do.”

Addie pressed her back against the chair, stretching. Muscles in her pussy and along her inner thighs protested. “I need to use the restroom. Do you know where my purse is?”

“It’s still in the office. The bathroom is right through there. I’ll get your purse for you and set it outside the door.”

“Thank you.” Addie stood, adjusting the knee-length robe so it covered her.

“Addie?” Lane was standing at the edge of the food area, one big hand holding back the heavy black drape that hid it from the rest of the sound stage.

“Yes.”

In an instant his manner went from teasing and relaxed to intense and serious. “You should take off your garter and thigh-highs unless you want them cut off too. When you come out of the bathroom, we start again.”

Addie sauntered into the bedroom set. She’d shed her garter and stockings, refreshed her makeup and cleaned herself up in the bathroom.

“Let’s do this.”

Lane rose from the couch where he’d been waiting. There was no one else in sight.

Addie untied the robe and shrugged it off.

She saw the shock ripple across his face before his expression changed to intense arousal. That moment of shock reinforced the conclusion she’d come to in the bathroom—she was making this too easy for him. Sure, this was sexy and the orgasm he’d given her was the kind of thing she thought happened only in movies, but she was tougher than this. He should
earn
her respect, her trust.

She’d been so overwhelmed, so taken with the fact that he could command her when few men ever managed it, that she’d let him in. Now her walls were up and she’d fight…make the pretty boy earn her trust. He wouldn’t really hurt or punish her, he liked her too much—he’d said so himself. Probably if she hadn’t taunted him he wouldn’t have gagged her. She wouldn’t make that mistake again, but there were plenty of other ways to goad him.

“
Te comieron la lengua los ratones?
”

“What’s that?”

“I asked if the mice ate your tongue.”

“No.” Lane moved to stand in front of her. He examined her, up and down. “Do you want to talk about anything before we start?”

Addie tossed her head. “You’re good, boy, but nothing to write home to my mama about.”

He circled behind her, scooped the hair off her shoulder. “You’ve had better.”

“You’re different. I don’t compare bananas and pineapples.”

He blew across the nape of her neck. “You can’t keep this up, you know,” he whispered, lips fluttering against her neck, the movement almost a kiss. “When you’re mine you can’t hide from me.”

“I’m naked. What could I hide?”

“I can’t wait to find out.”

Lane fisted his hand in her hair, using the firm grip to pull her head back so she looked up at him. “Put your hands together, behind your back. Hold your left wrist with your right hand. Then spread your legs. The rules for spread legs when sitting are the same for standing. I’ll let it slide this time because I wasn’t explicit.”

Addie’s breath came in short pants, the backward arch of her body, the press of Lane’s chest into her back making her hot, making her wet.

Damn it, no. I’m not going to give in this time.

She slid her hands behind her back, between their bodies—and found his erection straining against her ass through his pants. He sucked in a breath as she traced her fingers along the length. Addie felt his entire body go still as she snagged the zipper and drew it down. When she slipped her fingers inside, Lane shuddered against her, the hand in her hair going slack.

Gotcha.

He was wearing boxers, but she found the wet spot where the tip of his cock had dampened them. She scratched the head of his dick with her nail and his hips bumped against her ass. Now who was—?

Lane ripped her hands from his pants and pushed her away. Surprised, Addie stumbled a step. She spun to see him fiddling with his fly. When he looked up, his eyes glittered with anger.

Shit.

“What were you trying to get out of that?” he growled. “You knew I didn’t get to fuck you, so you wanted to make it worse?”

“No, no I—” Addie took a breath, stopped herself from apologizing. She cocked her hip, put a hand on it. “All in good fun, right? You play with mine, I play with yours.”

Lane pressed both palms against his temples, let out a harsh breath. “You’re angry, worried, scared by how I made you feel.”

“No.” Addie held her hands up, as if to push the words away.

Lane walked across the room, grabbing her right wrist as he did to drag her along with him. “You will obey me, trust me.”

“You will
earn it
.”

He stopped short and Addie slammed into him. Pinching her chin, he tilted her face up so their gazes met. “I thought I had. What did I do that made you feel you couldn’t trust me?”

Addie lowered her gaze to his lips, breathing heavily through her nose. There was nothing to say—he hadn’t done anything wrong. But it had to be a mistake to give in so readily to something—submission—that went against everything she was.

The silence held for another long beat and Lane pulled away, leaving her. Addie looked at her bare toes, wondering if she’d made a tactical error. When a pile of rope landed near her left foot, she still wasn’t sure.

“This is nylon rope.” Lane rubbed a loop of the rope, about as wide as a tube of mascara, against her belly. “It’s smooth, meaning it won’t abrade your skin. Rope burn isn’t just an expression.”

“Is this another rule, only use nylon rope?” she quipped, but the words came out a little shaky.

“No, there’s no rule. When I play, I consider the fact that my subs have normal lives, jobs, sometimes husbands or boyfriends who aren’t into BDSM. All those things equal no lasting marks on wrists or ankles—hence nylon.” As he spoke, Lane loosely wrapped three loops of rope around her right wrist. He fed the end under the loops, against the top of her arm, and tied an elaborate knot. A long tether dangled from the rope bracelet he’d just made. He repeated the process for her other wrist.

“You have sex with married women?”

“Some of them are.”

“And you’re okay with that, you think that’s what marriage is?”

“I think,” Lane made a large double loop of rope in his hand and tied another complicated knot, “that a marriage is between two people, and if part of that marriage involves the woman having a session with me, then I’m more than happy to help.” Lane dropped the loop over her head. The knot rested against her breastbone. “And I never said I had sex with them, that was you.”

“A noose?” Addie plucked at rope now dangling around her neck. “Charming.” She tugged at the trailing end. It didn’t tighten.

“Did you really think I’d put a slipknot around your neck?”

She shrugged but didn’t answer.

Lane shook his head. “You’re pushing my buttons, girl.”

“Don’t like it when they aren’t just falling all over themselves to fuck you, boy?” Addie raised a brow and smiled.

Lane dropped to his knees before her and created two more rope bracelets around the top of her calves, just below her kneecaps. “I don’t like it when my subs won’t tell me what’s really going on, what they’re really thinking and feeling.”

“Your subs…like a stable of horses.”

Lane rose, gathering the trailing ends of the five ropes. “Anything but, that’s not how I see the women I share these experiences with.”

“I bet you thi—”

“Enough.” Lane pulled the rope attached to her right knee, buckling that leg. Addie tumbled into him.

“Bastard,” she hissed against his shirt. He smelled like fabric softener, leather and sweat.

“Though this whole experience was meant to be more of a sample than a true introduction to being a submissive, I think you need some proper training. Follow me.”

Lane walked to the dining set. He was holding the ropes, giving Addie no choice but to follow close behind him.

Addie couldn’t seem to center herself. One moment she was riding the fire of her anger, her determination to stay strong in the face of his arrogant domination helping her to ignore the arousal churning in her belly. In the next breath something he said would throw her off beat, like his admitting to being with married women, and she’d lose track of both her anger and arousal.

“Up. Up on the table.”

“What?” Addie’d been so lost in her own thoughts she hadn’t had time to second-guess what was coming and plan her reactions. Now the chance was gone, because Lane was looking at her with those steady, intense eyes.