Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Lyra
“Oh, Allie. I assure you, I most certainly am.”
Is this part of his whole submission game? But I relent, because in the end, he’ll win. Haven’t I already learned that?
After drawing a deep, steadying breath, I attempt to do as he says, but the words seem to get stuck in my throat.
Drawing deeply on my reserve of courage, I clench my fists and clearly state, “Whatever you say, Stryker.”
“Sweet fuck. Allie…”
Beneath my rear, his cock throbs.
And in that moment, I feel my power, making me grin. The knowledge that I can make him react like that thrills me.
“You’re a vixen.”
My grin widens into a full-on smile.
Maybe this submission thing isn’t all bad.
His heartbeat is strong beneath my palm. As the next few minutes pass, my breathing syncs with his, and he traces lazy patterns on my back.
“Tell me about the experience,” he says after a while, his voice a soft rumble vibrating through me. “Not the spanking but earlier. The mirroring.”
I hesitate, the words forming slowly as I sift through the sensations.
“It was strange at first. Uncomfortable, like I was too exposed, too vulnerable. I’ve never done anything like that.
Usually when I’ve been with a man, it’s been with the lights out, and it was over before it really got started. But… With you…”
Without prodding, he waits.
“Nothing has ever been this…deliberate.”
“And then…?”
“Once I got out of my own head, let go a little, it was intense. I felt like everything was connected, like we were experiencing one movement, one breath. Does that sound ridiculous?”
“On the contrary.” He smooths hair back from my face.
And he looks at me deeply in a way no other man ever has.
“I wanted it to mean something to you. Because it did to me.” With the pad of his thumb, he tracks my cheekbone. “You’re not ordinary, Allie. So our lovemaking shouldn’t be, either.”
Lovemaking. What a strange word. I’ve only ever had sex before.
When I exhale and settle again, he asks about the spanking. “How was it for you?”
This is harder for me talk about, maybe because it’s fresher and I don’t understand my own reactions. “It hurt.”
When I pause, dragging out the moments, he prompts, “And?”
“But it’s like you built the intensity in a way that made me crave more.”
“Good. That’s the point. Your total pleasure.”
“Now you really have to be kidding me.” I scoff. “My total pleasure?”
“It wasn’t wonderful?”
“The mirroring, yes.” Looking up at him, I scowl. Just talking about this has made my pussy throb all the harder. “But all of the rest has been frustrating as fuck.”
He looks seriously unconcerned.
“I know. I know.” I hold up a hand. “Trust, right?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. Trust.”
With another exhalation, I settle against him again. Though I wouldn’t tell him this, right now, I’m content. I love being in his arms, cocooned in warmth from the fire, hearing the crackling wood, watching snowflakes get battered around.
And because we have nowhere to go and reality is being held at bay for at least one more day, I give into my curiosity about him. “So this BDSM thing…”
“Ask anything.” He waits.
Is Patience his middle name? “How long have you been into it?”
He’s quiet for a moment, his hand stilling on my back before he resumes the gentle strokes. “Went to a club when I was in the military. And…”
I lift my head a little so I can look at his face.
“The first hour or so was interesting. And then I watched an intense demonstration. A Top was giving a bottom a flogging, and I was captivated. The communication, the consent, the warmup. Then the way the bottom begged for more, with words, but more, with her body, even though she was bound.”
“Oh?”
He quirks an eyebrow. “You do it as well.”
“No way.”
“I assure you, Allie. You most certainly do.”
Frowning, I tilt my head.
“The way you whimper. The way you get wet for me. The way you wiggle your ass backward, asking for another spank.”
I gasp. “Do not!”
Stryker captures my chin and holds it prisoner. “Want me to prove it to you?”
“No!” He can’t possibly be right. Can he?
After a moment, he relents, releasing his grip.
Immediately I settle back against his chest.
“As the scene went on, the bottom seemed almost lost. As if she were floating. There was a connection between her, the Top, the kiss of the leather.”
He makes it sound like a sensual experience.
“The place was silent. And there was a spotlight on the woman, making it possible to see her body go from pink to red, watch her slacken in her bonds.”
“Like she was tied up?” I gulp.
“Her wrists were secured to a hook in the ceiling.”
I’m sure I wouldn’t want to do anything like that.
“Being unable to escape can be very freeing emotionally.”
“Sounds like my worst nightmare.”
He continues with small circles on my back. “Which is what a safe word is for.”
I nod.
“And a limits list.”
Before I can ask, he goes on, “It’s an agreement discussed ahead of time. Things that are not negotiable to either the bottom or the Top.”
That surprised me. “A Top can have limits?”
“Absolutely.”
Despite myself, I’m intrigued. “Do you have any?”
“Yeah. I’ll never do anything that will leave a permanent mark.”
I shudder at that. “Agreed.”
After another short pause, maybe giving me room to ask more questions, he returns to his story.
“Back to the bottom at the club. I saw total, exquisite surrender. And she looked…” He seems to search for words.
“Blissed out. Later I learned that the endorphins, the pleasure/pain combination sent her into subspace.”
He makes the whole thing sound like a sensual journey.
“It wasn’t until later that I understood just how complex the entire dance truly was. I was fixated on watching her, and I missed the nuances of what the Top was doing.” He feathers his fingers into my hair. “Bored yet?”
“No. Not at all. I want to hear more.”
The fire hisses and pops around us.
“He was so controlled, so in tune with her that the rest of the world might have stopped and he would never have noticed. His body was covered with a sheen of sweat from the constant physical demands. He continually checked on her safety and well-being, especially after she stopped responding. It was…”
In silence, I wait.
“Awe-inspiring. I had to learn about it. Next time I was in New Orleans, I took a private class from the owner, Mistress Aviana. Every chance I had, I visited, learning, watching. After about a year, I was comfortable enough to play with a bottom on my own.”
And now I’m really curious… “You asked how the experience was for me.”
“Mmm.”
“Tell me how it was for you? I mean, I’ve never done anything like this before. Now I have to ask you. Was it boring for you? I mean, you’ve been with so many women who actually know what they’re doing. And they’re not as hesitant as I am.”
“You? Boring?” Once more, he captures my chin and holds my gaze. “On the contrary. Being with someone new, so excited to learn, to know that I’m their first? Their only? Hell, Allie. The experience was fucking sublime.”
I blink. “You can’t mean that.”
“Every word. What you gave me is a gift. One I will never take for granted. Thank you.”
“I…”
“Goddamn, you have the most delectable lips.”
He captures my mouth and devours me in a way he hasn’t before. This isn’t gentle or probing; it’s demanding and possessive. Everything I have, he wants.
He brings up a hand to capture one of my breasts. Through the flannel of my borrowed shirt, he tweaks my already-hardening nipple.
I arch my back, offering more, silently pleading for more.
Instantly he gives me what I need, squeezing my breast, pinching my nipple, tugging on it, twisting hard when I grab hold of his wrist and move it closer to my body.
And then…
He eases his free hand between my legs.
All the emotions and raw hunger I experienced earlier return to turn my insides into molten lava. Desperately I part my thighs. Please, please let me come this time…