Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
At the foot of the stairs, Ray hesitated. She wanted the bathroom. And to brush her teeth and… “I need a few, um, minutes.”
“Of course.” Drake tugged her hair with a smile. “Go. I’ll get my bag from the car, clean up in the guest bath, and lock up the house.”
Theodore would’ve been annoyed she had spoiled the mood. She bit her lip and eyed Drake. Was he displeased or—
“How is your leg?”
“Fine, it’s fine.”
“In that case, when I get upstairs, I will expect you on the bed. On your knees. With the shirt gone and your hands behind your back so I can enjoy the sight of your breasts.” With a hand on her back, he nudged her forward. “Off you go.”
Just as well he didn’t expect a response from her; her mind had gone blank.
As she climbed the stairs, she felt his gaze. By the time she reached the top, her whole body simmered. Ready to boil over the minute he touched her.
After visiting the bathroom, she entered the bedroom and frowned. Way too much light. She turned the dimmer switch to set the chandelier lights to a faint glow.
Way too quiet too. Must have music. But what if he wanted to pick it? Doms did, right? Only, what if he didn’t? I like music, covering up…sounds.
Biting her lip, she set the sound system to play a dark, sensual playlist she’d copped from a friend last winter…and never played it for Theodore. He made fun of her when she tried to add romantic touches to their bedroom times.
Would Drake also think she was stupid?
She clenched her jaw. If he did, it’d be a red flag—like the ones she should have caught with Theodore.
Shaking off the memories, she looked around the room. Now what?
Obey the Dom’s directions. Merely the memory of his confident orders erased every worry from her head.
Kneeling in the center of the bed, she pulled off the T-shirt. As cool air flowed over her bare breasts, she swallowed hard and laced her fingers together behind herself. The position arched her back and lifted her breasts.
Holy kraken. Tingles of anticipation ran over her skin…and then she heard a sound.
Her head jerked up.
He was already here, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in a deceptively lazy posture.
A five o’clock beard shadow softened the lines of his goatee and hard jaw.
His unbuttoned shirt exposed the solidly packed muscle of his chest. As he looked at her, black eyes filled with masculine appreciation. “Very nice, bébé.”
Turning, he said, “You’ll have to wait. Sorry, Max,” and closed the door.
In stocking feet, he silently crossed the room and set a leather bag at the foot of the bed.
After putting his phone and a condom on the nightstand, he sat facing her on the bed.
When she started to move, he said, so very softly, “Stay still for me.”
A shiver ran through her.
He tilted his head, obviously listening to the music. “Quite suitable for tonight.”
She released the breath she’d been holding.
He smiled and, with no urgency whatsoever, leaned forward and kissed her. His lips coaxed hers to open, sweetly seductive rather than demanding.
The temperature in the room grew warmer.
Straightening, he smiled into her eyes and ran a finger over her lower lip, her chin, down her throat and between her breasts. “I do like you naked.”
Her breathing stuttered to a halt as her nipples tightened to urgent peaks.
As if hearing her wish, he cupped one breast, weighing it in his palm. “We will take a moment to talk first. We both want sex, oui?”
She nodded.
“Out loud, please.”
“Yes.” No, she wasn’t a child to whisper—even if her mouth was dry. She spoke louder. “Yes. Absolutely.”
The laugh lines beside his eyes crinkled. “Firm and enthusiastic. Perfect. Next—I expect to be dominant in the bedroom.” His smile reached his lips. “And often at other times.”
He was telling her what he wanted—and carefully, so she didn’t feel railroaded. In fact, her anxiety settled, leaving only excitement behind. “I’m in.”
“Perfect. Tonight, you will have some choices and can say yes or no. Later, other nights, those choices will go away…except for a safeword.”
No choices. Quivers of anticipation ran through her.
His hand moved to her other breast, squeezed gently. “Tonight, no physical bondage. You aren’t ready for it.” He studied her, lips slightly pursed in thought. “Perhaps a touch of anal play—although I will not take you there. Yet.”
Oh yikes. Heat and worry fizzled in her blood.
“Light pain—nothing like your paddling. Some toys and—” When she glanced at her nightstand, his grin flashed.
When he leaned forward and opened the drawer, embarrassment scalded her face.
“I have some in my bag, but for now, we’ll use yours, and I will learn what pleases you.” His eyes were purely wicked as he added, “Later, we can explore others.”
Pushing a pillow out of the way, he pulled out her toys and lined them up. His eyebrows rose—because she had a lot
“I, uh, like variety.” Her voice sounded as if it would crack any moment.
His deep laugh made her skin tingle. “Ma petite Ray, no matter how tempting to use all of these tonight, you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.” Planting a quick kiss on her lips, he caressed her breasts.
When he studied the way-oversized dildo, she shook her head quickly. “No, not Beast. The online description lied to me; he’s too big. I prefer Phil.”
“Beast? Phil?” His lips quirked. “Which one is Phil?”
Twisting around to face the head of the bed, she pointed to the dark purple dildo. “Phil.”
“Old boyfriend?”
“Short for Fill-Me-Up.”
Gods, she loved his laugh.
“Do they all have labels?” He pointed to each in the line, and she dutifully named them.
The dildos—Bilbo, Pinky, Bruiser. Thumper and Bugs, the rabbits. Donald was a vibrating duck. Warlock, a wand.
By the end, he was laughing hard—and she knew she was bright red.
“Non, non, chérie.” He cupped her cheek and kissed her. “Your imagination is a treat. Sex—with and without toys—is normal, no matter what idiocy prudish people spout.”
Of course, she agreed… Only having someone studying her very intimate belongings was as mortifying as having him look at her intimate parts.
How would it feel if he actually used her toys on her. Ooooh. Everything inside her trembled.
“All charged, ready for use?” A corner of his mouth tilted up. “Say yes, Sir—or no, Sir like an obedient submissive. For the rest of the night, disrespect will result in punishment, which I’ll enjoy. You…might not.”
The open pleasure in his caressing voice made her voice come out hoarse. “Yes. Sir.”
“Très bien.” He rose and unzipped the leather bag. The dim light shadowed his face—and made it impossible to tell what was in the bag. “I do have some things to…use…on you.”
She leaned forward, trying to see what was in the bag.
His brows drew together. “Zut, you are more curious than your cat. Easy enough to remedy.” He set a black blindfold over her eyes and adjusted the Velcro fastening to fit it securely.
Everything went dark. Her hands rose instinctively—and were caught in an unbreakable grip.
“Ma chérie, you will use the usual safeword tonight. Red for stop, yellow to pause and talk, green to continue. Have we reached red?”
She swallowed, feeling her hands quaking in his. “No, not red.” She pulled in a breath for honesty. “Green, please, Sir.”
“So brave.” He held her face between his hands and kissed her, long and slow.
“I want you to kneel up and hold onto the top of the headboard.” Since she couldn’t see, he helped her turn and guided her hand up past the tufted leather to the wood frame. It was fairly high, leaving her up on her knees close to one side of the bed.
“Now don’t let go, bébé.”
Oh, oh, why did that sound ominous?
She strained to hear what he was doing. The zip of something—his jeans? Or the toybag? Then his warm hands closed over her breasts, massaging, tugging on the nipples, sending streams of pleasure through her. With her vision gone, everything seemed more sensitive—especially, her body.
“Pretty little breasts—and so fun to touch,” he murmured. And then something bit into her right nipple, like cold, tiny teeth, and she yelped in shock.
He chuckled, dark and low, and a second later, her left nipple was attacked, no…clamped. Nipple clamps.
Ow, ow, ow. She had to force herself not to grab the damn things and—
His hands landed on hers, preventing her from releasing the headboard. “Breathe slow and deep until the pain decreases.”
But, but, but. She sucked in several breaths, hard and fast—and got a stinging slap on her bottom.
“Try again, Aralia,” he chided, voice quiet. Not at all upset. “Slow and deep.”
She hated—hated—to admit she’d deserved the swat. Carefully, she pulled in a breath, held it, took her time releasing. Another. Another.
“There now. Is the pain bearable?” He stroked a slow hand down her back, much as she did when Max got nervous.
The pain was better, although the tingling ache sure wouldn’t let her forget something was pinching her nipples. “Yes,” she whispered.
He tugged on one clamp and made her hiss, and then he patted her bottom. “Keep breathing.”
Why did it make her stomach quiver to know he was willing to hurt her, to know he’d comfort her even as he made her obey.
He was still stroking her back, the calluses on his warm palm slightly abrasive.
Tingles followed the movement as his hand continued, down over her stinging bottom. Down the backs of her thighs. Back to her ass to massage the cheeks as if demonstrating he could and would touch every part of her body.
“Spread your legs farther apart.” One hand pushed on the inside of her thigh, and she edged her knees outward.
Which let his whole hand cup her wet pussy. Let him tease her clit—right where she was aching for his touch. He pressed a finger, then two inside her, and her hips wiggled involuntarily at the shocking zing of pleasure.
He pressed one cheek outward, and his finger rimmed her. Whoa, there, really? Only, he’d said something about anal.