16. Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Walker
M organ’s bedroom is nothing like I’m expecting. While her entire life resembles chaos from the outside, her personal space is incredibly tidy and inviting. Her white wooden bed is freshly made and covered in a sage green duvet cover that’s nearly identical to the shade of her eyes. An ivory wool rug covers the majority of the floor, completely free of dirt or scuffs. Even the cream throw pillows are organized, sitting in a line like she took deliberate care with them.
I softly close the door behind us.“Stop right there.”
To my surprise, she follows my instructions without so much as a peep, instantly pausing in the open area in front of her bed and spinning to face me. Her eyes have dulled slightly, her blown pupils calming the colorful storm that normally rages. The bedside lamps behind her shine a dim light, illuminating her soft features in a way that makes it difficult to look away.
I step closer and push the sleeves of my crew neck up my forearms.
“Are you familiar with the traffic lights?” I ask the question with confidence, but I only learned about them from research that I did recently.
Morgan smirks like she wants to reply with a sassy retort but holds her tongue. “ I am.”
After I finished the book that Morgan recommended, I got curious and started reading about kink—everything from scholarly articles to firsthand experiences in the community. It was either that or sit around the house and twiddle my thumbs, so I figured I might as well educate myself.
My sex life in the past was incredibly vanilla for two reasons—my ex-wife was never interested in anything else, and there isn’t a ton of time for kink exploration when you’re working over a hundred hours a week. But when I thought more about it, I realized that some of my earliest fantasies involved hardcore BDSM, among other things. I think that’s partially because I never felt like I was in control of my own life, so being in control sexually was always arousing to me. But it’s also just fucking hot knowing that you have your partner’s full submission, something Morgan and I are quickly veering toward.
I tried to consider why I wanted to try this with her, but all I could come up with was that it just feels natural. Sure, outside of the bedroom we battle and banter like the best of them, but there was something about the way she responded to me the other day that made me wonder if this could work—if she wanted to be tamed by someone who deserved her submission.
I know that it’s entirely possible that neither one of us will like this dynamic because I’ve never explored this side of myself, and I sincerely doubt that Morgan has either. But while it could completely blow up in our faces, it also could work beautifully.
“Explain them to me,” I state, circling her slowly.
“Red to stop. Yellow to slow down. Green to keep going.” Her voice is steady as her eyes track my movement.
“Good. And just so we’re clear, those colors apply at any point, for any reason. And when I ask for a color, I’m expecting you to respond accordingly. If you need a minute, I’m going to pause until you can answer.”
She nods. “Understood.”
“Let’s take it slow tonight and see how it goes. But here’s what I’m interested in—I want to test how well you can listen. And if you even like listening, for that matter.” I wink at her and earn a small smirk in return. “So any time you speak to me within this room, I’d like you to respond with ‘Sir’ at the end. Can you do that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl,” I reply as I pause behind her. “Did you like being tied up the other day?”
Even though I can’t see her expression, I notice her posture stiffen slightly. Either the question caught her off guard, or she wasn’t a fan.
“Yes, Sir,” she answers, her response a little breathy.
I step forward, crowding her from behind as I let her answer simmer in my mind. Her body naturally presses against mine, making my cock swell uncomfortably because all I want to do is ease the fucking ache with her soft pussy.
My fingers move to the hem of her T-shirt, gently toying with the soft cotton. “Let’s get this off of you.”
As my hands begin to lift her shirt, Morgan’s breathing hitches. I pause and steady my hands at her hips. I doubt this is an issue, but I want to make sure that the change in her breath is one of arousal and not fear or something. I know reading her will get easier, but I’m trying to be overly cautious since this is new for both of us.
“Color?” I ask.
“Green,” she confirms quickly. “I promise I’ll tell you if I want you to stop. You don’t have to keep checking in. Please keep going.”
I swat at her exposed bottom, finding the meaty part of her flesh with my palm. “Sir,” I correct, gently rubbing the sting away.
“Please keep going, Sir .”
I slide the soft cotton off her body and toss it haphazardly on the floor. My hands snake around her, gently kneading her heavy tits before tracing the outline of her pebbled nipples. Her body softens beneath my touch, almost molding into mine as I tease the darkened skin, not quite touching the tight buds.
“Please,” she whimpers, twisting in my arms.
I pause, swatting the underside of her breast slightly harder than I did her ass. “Please, what?” I ask, returning my fingers to their previous spot.
She sighs, shifting her weight like there’s something uncomfortable between her legs. “Please play with my nipples, Sir.”
Since she’s learning, I honor her request and tweak her hardened buds, rolling them between my fingers. She moans in response, arching her back and pushing her chest into my hand like she’s begging for more.
“So sensitive,” I murmur into her ear, sliding her hair behind her shoulders to expose her neck. “I don’t think that’s going to be good for you down the road.”
Her breath shudders, and I wonder if it’s because of my threat or because my lips just grazed her ear.
“Do you have any toys, little devil? Anything I can use to torment you tonight?”
“Just a vibrator, Sir.”
I nibble on the thin skin of her neck, considering her response. While I have no doubt that a vibrator could be useful, I was hoping for something along the lines of nipple clamps.
“Put your hands behind your back,” I rasp in her ear.
Morgan immediately complies, and I adjust her positioning so that her arms are bent at a ninety-degree angle. Because of the way they’re situated above her waist, if I want to spank her or play with her ass, I’ve got plenty of space.
My fingers quickly move to unbuckle my belt, sliding it through the loops so fast that you can hear the leather sing against the denim of my jeans.
I wrap the belt around her overlapping forearms several times, making sure that it’s not too tight before I cinch it together.
“How’s that feel?”
“Good, Sir.”
I step back, raking my eyes over her body. I’ve always noticed her figure. It’s impossible to ignore when her hospital scrubs show off her perfect hourglass shape, but seeing her on display for only me is an entirely different experience—it’s captivating.
Morgan Lovett is every man’s wet dream. She’s athletic and strong, but the lines of her body are soft and supple. Her thighs are curvy, yet muscular, and her ass . . . fuck. I haven’t gotten a good look at it until now, but it’s round and cushiony, practically begging to be worshiped by me.
I come to a stop in front of her and tip her chin up to meet my gaze. She had her eyes averted, and while that might be a traditional symbol of submission, I’m quickly realizing that I want to watch everything she does. I want to see her eyes, her face, everything the moment that she decides to give herself to me.
“Tell me,” I say, running my thumb along her plump lower lip. “Are you one of those women who hates sucking cock? ”
The question has been on my mind for days, ever since she casually mentioned it, and my dick flexes painfully against my zipper like it’s begging for the answer to be no.
Morgan snorts as her lips curve into a sly smile. “What do you think?”
I must make a disapproving expression because she quickly adds, “Sir.”
“I think that you need to answer my question,” I state simply, choosing not to spank her for the missed title.
“I don’t hate anything I’m good at, Sir,” she replies smoothly, her confidence unwavering.
My mouth clamps together to hide the amusement threatening to break through.
“Is that so?” I press, curious how far she’ll let me go. “How about when I’m the one in control? When I’m gripping the back of your head and forcing my cock so far down your throat that you gag. Still think you’ll be good at it then?”
“I don’t think. I know,” she answers, smiling sweetly. “Sir.”
My hand falls to her upper arm, and I guide her to the wooden bench at the end of the bed. Because of our size difference, I doubt she can take me in her mouth while she’s on her knees. But if I’m sitting with her between my legs, it might give her a better angle.
Lowering myself to the bench, I pull her into position, my grip on her arm still firm. “Get on your knees, little devil. Let’s see how well you can take a cock in that bratty little mouth.”
Morgan nods subtly, not breaking eye contact with me as she slowly sinks to the floor and awaits my next instruction. She looks so goddamn beautiful with her full tits pushed forward because of the way her hands are bound behind her back. Unable to help myself, I reach out and tweak her nipples between my fingers at the same time.
Her eyes widen, and her mouth drops open as a quiet moan escapes her lips. She shifts on her knees, like she’s desperately searching for friction that isn’t there. I want more than anything to swipe my fingers between her legs, to tease a release of pleasure from her, but I hold myself back. First I want to test how wet she gets from sucking my cock.
Releasing her nipples with a final pinch, I reach into my pocket and pull out my car keys. She looks at me curiously and bites her bottom lip like she’s trying hard not to say anything snarky.
“I’m going to put these in your right hand,” I explain, holding up the keys. “Shake them if it gets to be too much, and I’ll stop to check in.”
Her eyes roll but she replies, “Yes, Sir.”
Leaning forward, I pinch her cheeks between two fingers harshly. “Do you have something you’d like to say?”
She shakes her head as much as she can. “No, Sir.”
I study her carefully for a moment before I release her face and reach around to place the keys in her hand.
“Show me.” I hear the tone of my voice go from controlled to reluctant, but I ignore it as I sit back to watch her.
The keys begin to clang together as she jiggles them.
I nod, indicating that she should stop before I add, “If you ever roll your eyes about a safe word, we won’t do this again. I’m taking away your ability to speak and move, so I need to know that you have a way to communicate with me if you need to. You can be a brat about everything else, Morgan, but your safety, and my safety, isn’t a damn joke.”
I use her name to indicate how serious I am about this .
Her expression sobers as she absorbs the gravity of my words. “Understood, Sir,” she says quietly, the earlier flippancy gone from her tone.
I want to continue but it’s not out of lust anymore, it’s out of frustration. I can feel a familiar rage vibrating through my veins, and I know that if we keep going, this isn’t going to be enjoyable for either one of us.
“Red,” I state firmly, looking down at the ground because I can’t meet her gaze knowing that I’ll see disappointment there. I stand swiftly from the bench and begin to undo my belt, unraveling the soft leather from her arms.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” Morgan says, looking up at me with a storm of emotion in her eyes.
“Walker,” I correct, pulling her to her feet and into my arms. “We’re done with that for a while.”
I rest my chin on her head, taking a moment to cool off.
While my research on kink was definitely eye opening and made me excited to experiment with her, the biggest thing I learned was that the two most important elements of kink are communication and trust. We already have the trust down, but I’m not venturing into something deeper unless we’re able to communicate effectively. Even if this is a purely physical arrangement between friends, I still need to know that we’re on the same page. And right now, I’m worried that we aren’t.
Morgan’s breathing is steady and soothing against my chest, quickly calming my racing pulse. I want to keep holding her. To let her know that I’m still interested in whatever is happening between us. That my intentions haven’t changed. But I need a second to get my thoughts together.
“We need to talk more about this,” I murmur. “Let’s finish that bottle of wine in bed.”