Chapter 6 #2
“Yes. I thought it would be smart to prep if we’re going to do this.
To do it properly,” she said and grabbed her mini iPad from her purse, snapped open the cover and tapped on the notepad icon.
“I grabbed a list from a website on kink and submission, and since we’re doing lessons, I thought perhaps we should discuss the curriculum in advance. ”
I reined in a laugh. Casey seemed to have been a little more BDSM-curious than she admitted. At least she was keen to continue. “Yes, please let me know what’s on my syllabus,” I said dryly.
“There won’t be any caning, whipping or flogging.”
“I won’t even try to order them a la carte,” I said, slashing my hand through the air.
“Let’s begin with…spanking,” she said, reading the list.
“I’m good with it. You?”
She nodded. “Absolutely.”
I peered at the list on the screen. “How about ropes?”
“I believe I won’t mind being tied up with you,” she said, raising an eyebrow at her double entendre. I nodded approvingly, both at the pun and the prospect of her restrained.
She pointed to the next item on the list. “Ball gag?” She cringed. “That’s not ever going to happen.”
“We’ll send it the way of the cane.”
She nodded vigorously, then dropped her voice to a confessional whisper. “But I might be open to a riding crop. I’m not sure, but I’d like to try.”
The situation in my jeans was getting tight. “I’d like to use a crop on you,” I said in a low and dirty voice. She gazed back at me, the look in her eyes saying she was willing.
“Hair pulling, biting, scratching. I’m pretty sure I’d like all those,” she said, miming checking them off the list.
“Always good to test them out to be safe though. What about handcuffs?”
“I’m all in.” She paused, tapped her chin. “Maybe you could pretend to be a secret agent who carries cuffs.”
I groaned appreciatively, then tapped the list. “Which gives me the answer to the next one. Role-playing. That’s a yes.”
“Definitely.” She gestured to the next item, and made a pout. “Orgasm denial? I don’t think I’d like that.”
“Oh, but I bet I could make you love it.”
She narrowed her eyes, then spoke in a sultry, suggestive tone. “But Nate, I love coming.”
Heat ran rampant in my body, like wildfire. This woman was going to be my undoing. She was flirty and dirty, and eager to give me the reins to her body. I was a lucky son-of-a-bitch.
“I don’t know what man would not want you to be direct. Because when you say things like that—direct and insanely sexy things—it just makes me want to make sure you come over and over,” I said.
She drew a quick breath, pushed her hair off her shoulders and mouthed thank you.
“Now, onto blindfolds,” she said, returning to her skillful attack of the list. “I think I can handle a blindfold. We sell them, you know.”
“Good. Why don’t you see if you can get the CEO discount? How about candles?” I asked, reading off another kinky option.
“Yeah. About that one,” she said, tapping her finger against her lips. “Do I want hot wax dripping between my breasts? Yes? No? Yes? No?”
She glanced down, then ran a fingertip along her cleavage, checking how it might feel.
A groan worked its way up my chest as she traveled across her skin.
She was driving me wild. So clinical, so logical, when all I wanted was…
to drip hot wax between her breasts. I reached for her hand, the thing I’d wanted to do earlier, then laced my fingers tightly in hers, guiding her hand along her breasts, down her belly, and to her lap.
“I’ll do the testing,” I said as I let go of my grip. “But what I really want to know is this…”
I threaded my fingers through her hair, grabbing a fistful. I waited till she moaned softly, then I tugged hard, yanking her head back in one quick move. A muffled cry of pleasure gave me the answer.
“Now I’m picturing you on your hands and knees, your spine bowed, your hair spilling down your back. I won’t be able to resist pulling it hard then either,” I whispered roughly, as I gripped tightly in demonstration.
She shivered in response, and breathed out sharply. With one hand firmly in her hair, I dragged my other hand down her chest, trailing a finger from the hollow of her throat to the valley between her luscious tits.
“Now let’s address some other questions, Casey,” I said, as I continued our exploration, dropping my hand inside her powder blue bra to stroke her breast. “You like it when I play with your tits. I learned that last night,” I said, squeezing a dark pink nipple.
She gasped in surprise. “But the one thing I’m not sure of is whether you like them to be sucked.
Let’s find out,” I said, unbuttoning the top two buttons on her short-sleeved shirt, freeing a gorgeous globe of flesh.
I groaned greedily, eager to taste her as I dropped my mouth to her hard nipple, drawing it between my teeth.
I bit down.
Instantly, her hands flew to my hair, tugging me closer.
She arched into me, and I heard a hiss in her breath, as if she were trying to be quiet so the crew up front wouldn’t hear.
I flicked the tip of my tongue against her delicious nipple until she moaned so loudly I feared she’d wake up the sleeping dogs.
I pressed my hand to her mouth, covering it tightly, shushing her as I sucked and tasted each breast until she was wriggling in the seat.
I finished with a quick bite on each nipple.
When I stopped, her wild untamed gaze told me everything I needed to know.
“Yes, you like nipple play a hell of a lot, and that tells me you’ll love it when I drizzle hot wax between your tits.
It’ll get you so wet your panties will be useless, and you’ll be begging me to strip you down to nothing and take you,” I said, then grabbed her waist, and pulled her across my lap.
“But right now, we have another lesson.”
“What’s the lesson?” she asked as she straddled me, knees tucked up on either side of my legs.
“This one is called Don’t Wake the Dogs,” I said, then clasped one hand on her mouth yet again, and dipped my other hand underneath her skirt, sliding my fingers across the slick wetness on the panel of her panties.
I slid my fingers inside, gliding across that silky wetness that made my whole body feel electric.
Touching her at all was such a privilege; touching her in this heightened state was a gift.
Her eyes glittered with lust as she rocked against my fingers. I couldn’t resist—I drew my hand away from her legs, brought my fingers to my mouth and sucked off her wetness. Her eyes flared as she watched me.
“All morning, I could still taste you on me. I had to taste you again,” I said, then returned to her slick flesh, sliding through her slippery wetness that told me exactly how much she’d enjoyed having her breasts sucked.
So much that my fingers were coated in her.
She was some kind of live wire right now, and I intended to make her body sing.
I ran my fingers across her heat, then zeroed in on her swollen clit.
She muffled a moan against my palm. She wasn’t going to take long at all.
The things I could do with her body. The pleasure I intended to give her. The possibilities were endless.
“Let me feel you all over my hand,” I said, my eyes on hers the whole time as I slid a finger into her, crooking so I could find that magic spot.
She bowed her back in response to the penetration.
Her slick walls gripped my finger, and I added one more, all the while rubbing my thumb across her clit.
“Rock into my hand. Do it hard,” I commanded.
She did as she was told, riding me, humping my fingers, fucking my hand furiously. She was a gorgeous sight, all wanton and naughty, and my lungs burned with desire for her; my cock ached to fill her. My body craved her climax. I wanted it badly, wanted her to fall apart for me in the sky.
She tensed all over, her thighs gripping me, and her eyes squeezed shut. “Come quietly,” I whispered, urging her on. “I want to watch you come quietly.”
She shuddered and dug her teeth into my palm, her body shaking before she collapsed into my arms.
I held her.
“Can I touch you now?” she said, her sweet voice melting me. I loved that she offered, that she seemed to want to, even if it wasn’t part of her “training.”
I raised her chin so she could meet my eyes. “No.”
She frowned. “Why? Are you into orgasm denial? That is no fun.”
“Not in the least. But the answer is simple—I don’t want to be quiet. And I don’t want to wake the dogs, or annoy the flight attendant. That’s why I said no. But rest assured, when we’re back in New York we’ll get through some other items on your list.”
She sighed happily, then wriggled against me, as if she wanted to be closer. Not wanting to deny her a thing on this earth, I roped my arms around her.
“You’re amazing,” she whispered, her breathing still erratic as she floated down from her orgasm.
Her praise sent a wicked thrill through me.
Call it masculine pride. Call it ego. When a woman turns to you to teach her a new type of fucking, there’s nothing a man wants to hear more than amazing.
Though, come to think of it, best orgasm of my life was just as good.
“So are you,” I said softly, stroking her hair. I couldn’t believe she thought she needed to learn anything.
“I can tell why women adore you,” she said, continuing her compliments.
I tensed, but reminded myself not to bristle. I was what I was. She hadn’t asked me for help because I batted ninth. I was a clean-up hitter, and so far with Casey I’d been belting home runs.
“I’m just glad you enjoyed it. And, by the way, you take direction exceedingly well, so I don’t know why you’re fixated on this idea that you—” but then I stopped short before I finished the thought—can’t give up control.
I wanted her to still need me, so I edited myself.
“Need to change, but you’re doing a great job learning how to give up control. So we’ll just keep teaching you.”
She moved off me, grabbed her iPad, and returned to her list. “Hmm,” she said, as she studied it. “I’m not sure which of the items I’m supposed to be checking off. What do you consider what we just did?”
I gritted my teeth, annoyed with the idea of being an item on a list. But hell, I was the one who’d brought up the list a minute ago.
“Ball gag. Consider that an impromptu ball gag, since you couldn’t speak,” I said, rising.
I turned to face her. “Oh, and in case this helps you on your list, you can check that you liked it. Now if you’ll excuse me. ”
After a quick restroom trip to wash my hands, I visited with the dogs, giving each a soft pat, then returned to Casey. She was scrolling through an email.
“There’s a note from Grant about getting together in a month,” she said, a happy look on her face as she read the message. I was ready to grab the iPad and smash the damn thing.
“That’s great,” I said, closing my eyes, willing myself to not be irritated that she was excited. Grant was a man she could have a future with.
I was, as always, Mister Right Now.