Chapter 5
Chapter Five
R eed tested the strength of the pull-up equipment Frankie had purchased and tried not to imagine what she had in mind for the pole. Shit. Damn woman was hell on his libido. He was trying to be pissed about losing the bid. In the past, whenever he’d lost a potential client, he’d gone into a funk for days, walking around like a bear with a thorn in his claw. Biting off the head of anyone who dared to step in his way.
Today, he’d listened to the CEO of Simply Lovely list her reasons for choosing Frankie’s bid, and all he could feel was pride. She’d done well—very well—and he knew she’d deserved to win. Now, rather than nursing his wounded pride, he was looking forward to the next hour with anticipation, eagerness…and leeriness. Her demand that he kneel and wait for her rubbed against the grain.
He had no doubt she’d push his limits, his patience, and oddly enough, he couldn’t wait to watch her make the attempt. Checking the equipment one more time, he gritted his teeth and went to his knees. She took her sweet time getting ready. Obviously part of her master plan to make him pay for all he’d made her do and say during his fantasy.
He grinned as he recalled how beautiful she’d looked bent over his desk, her ass reddened by his spanking. She’d taken to his commands like a fish takes to water, but he knew submissiveness was not in her nature. She’d assumed the role, played it to perfection, but inside—deep inside—he knew that wasn’t who she was.
And, surprisingly, he didn’t give a shit. In the past, he’d grasped the reins of every relationship, wielding the whip, assuming it was his God-given right to run the show. The women he’d dated had let him hold that power. Frankie would never let him run roughshod over her. He’d learned from their previous sexual experiences and from their time spent working together that she knew her strengths, knew her value, and she wouldn’t put those things away merely because he demanded to be in charge.
It was that fact that made her one of the most beautiful women he’d ever known.
The door to the bathroom opened and Frankie stepped into the room. There was no shyness, no timidity to her fluid grace. She was, in a word, magnificent.
His cock filled as she walked toward him. His vision blurred, but he refused to blink as he took in her catsuit, her black strappy high heels. Jesus. She held a riding crop in her hand and for a moment, he wondered what the hell he’d signed on for. He was reminded of Carter’s comments about her. Dominant definitely described this look.
Then he grinned. He could see his response took her aback for just a second. She recovered quickly. She always would. Frankie thought on her feet. Her quick wit would never leave her floundering for long.
“You might want to wipe that cocky grin off your face, Donovan. I’m not sure you understand your place here.”
He let the grin morph into a smirk and knew the image irked her. She hadn’t played the game by his rules, either. She’d been the mouthiest sub on the East Coast.
She shook her head, clearly disappointed in his effort. “You aren’t going to make this easy, are you?”
“Easy on me or easy on you?”
She gave him a wicked smile. “I don’t need easy. In fact,” she rubbed the tip of her riding crop along the front placket of his pants, outlining his erection, “I prefer it hard.”
He bit back a groan at the pleasure her featherlight touch on his cock provoked. Shit. Suddenly a new worry popped into his brain. There was no way he could withstand much of her torment without erupting far too early. She was hotter than shit in her Dominatrix outfit.
“Stand up, Reed.”
He slowly rose, attempting to adjust his pants as he did so. The zipper of his slacks was irritating his cock, and he tried to remember a time when he’d been harder.
She walked away from him, toward her desk. “Take off your clothes. All of them.”
For a split second, he thought perhaps this wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe she’d put him out of his misery quickly. That thought was washed away when he watched her open her desk drawer and pull out a pair of manacles. Her plan flashed before his eyes. The wrist cuffs were separated by a foot of chain. No doubt she intended to bind him to this damn chin-up bar, naked as the day he was born.
The idea of giving her so much control made him uneasy. He’d never let a woman run the show, never let anyone have free rein over his body. He wasn’t sure he could do this. Helpless wasn’t a role he’d ever played and he didn’t intend to start now.
“Frankie.”
She turned to look at him, and her face halted his next words. So much was written in her eyes—need, excitement, fear, challenge. She expected him to balk, expected him to refuse her.
“Chickening out, Donovan?”
He was reminded of his fantasy. She’d given him everything, held back nothing. Didn’t he owe her the same satisfaction? They’d started this as a way of one-upping each other. It was supposed to be a game. Somewhere along the line, the rules had changed. It no longer felt like they were taking so much as giving.
His hands moved to his shirt, unfastening the buttons. She paused, watching him, waiting for him to say more. Slowly, methodically, he shed his shirt, shoes, socks and pants—all as she observed silently. When he was completely naked, he turned his hands, palms toward her as if to say, I’m yours. Take me.
She smiled at his gesture, nodded once, and for a moment, he thought he saw the sheen of a tear in her eye. She carried the manacles over and stood in front of him.
“Do you need me to spell out what I’m going to do?”
He shook his head. “Just do it.” The words were ripped from his soul. With those three words, he was giving her his trust, something he’d never surrendered easily. And yet, with her, it seemed a very simple thing to offer.
She hooked the cuff on his right wrist, raising his arm above his head. Efficiently, she lightly tossed the chain over the chin-up bar, raised his other arm and hooked the second cuff. Her heels added at least three inches to her height, making it easier for her to bind him. The top of her head came to the tip of his nose, and he was overcome with the urge to bend forward and capture her elusive lips.
As if reading his thoughts, she took a step back. His arms were loosely chained above his head, his elbows slightly bent. He resisted the urge to test their strength, to test the bar. A small part of him wanted to use brute force to pull free from her bondage, but he was able to push it aside. Today was about her. Her fantasy. Her needs.
She ran her hand along his chest, the sudden touch surprising him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart as she used her nail to tease his nipple. Bending forward, she nipped at the small distended bit of flesh with her teeth. He clenched his jaw as she increased the pressure of the bite. She continued until a hiss escaped his lips. She backed away then, studied his face and then soothed the pain with soft, wet kisses and gentle brushes of her tongue. Once she’d eased the hurt, she moved over and inflicted the same pleasurable pain to his other nipple. Over and over, she tormented him with sharp bites, sweet kisses.
He was struggling to get air into his lungs and his cock was full to bursting. Jesus. She hadn’t even touched it yet.
Finally, she pulled away. He watched her through slitted eyelids, trying to read her face, determine her next move. It was impossible. She was a master at this game, at control. It was like looking in a mirror.
She walked back to her desk and picked up the riding crop. He clenched his teeth. This was definitely going to be a new experience. For him and for his secretary. He glanced uneasily at the door. What the hell would Jessica think when she heard the crack of a whip? Would she try to come in?
“Jess is about to get an education. Wouldn’t you say so?”
He cleared his throat, wondering when it had gotten so thick. “Maybe you should tell her to go to lunch.”
She looked at him thoughtfully. “Maybe I should invite her in. I bet she’d love to put a few lashes against your back.”
He shook his head. “The only hands I want on me right now are yours.”
She seemed to digest that information, then—typical woman—she latched on to the wrong words. “Right now?”
“Frankie.” He gestured at the crop in her hands with a nod of his head. “Get on with it.”
She lifted the crop, dragging the tip down his chest and then across his shoulders. For several moments, she moved in what he thought were random patterns. When she drew a K, he realized she was spelling her name.
“Marking your territory?”
Her gaze met his and she didn’t smile. “I think I am.”
Clearly she hadn’t liked his right now comment. He wanted to figure out how to feel about that, but before the thought could penetrate, she moved the crop down to his cock. His fists clenched as he wondered about her intentions. How pissed off was she?
She read his rigid pose easily. “Haven’t you ever heard the expression don’t bite the hand that feeds you ?”
She was still teasing his rigid flesh with the crop, and he was having serious trouble processing her meaning.
“Yeah,” he barked out.
“I’m not about to maim something that gives me so much pleasure.”
With her words, he released the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Christ, the woman held him in the palm of her hands. His head was screaming at him to jerk the bar off the wall, free himself from her contraption, but his body wouldn’t move. Even with her taunts, her threats, his stupid cock remained standing at attention, begging her for more.
She walked around him slowly, crossing the threshold into his office. His back was to her, and he knew she was about to up the ante on their wager. She dragged her fingernail along his back. “You liked spanking my ass.”
Her words were a statement, not a question, so he didn’t reply. He hadn’t liked spanking her. He’d fucking loved it. There was something about seeing her ass marked by his hand. Some dark possessive part of his nature craved that mark.
“Maybe that will help you understand why I need to do this.”
Before he could reply, she brought the crop down on his back. If he’d expected tenderness, he’d been a damn fool. She knew what she was doing, knew how to use the instrument in her hand. Three more times, she struck, each blow touching him in a different place. His back was on fire, and he couldn’t hold back the groan that escaped each time she hit him.
She paused after the fourth blow, stepping forward. It took him a moment to realize what she was doing. She was blowing on his back. Her lips dispersed cool air along every mark of the crop. His cock twitched. He squirmed. It felt amazing. Like nothing he’d ever experienced.
He felt like a powder keg about to explode. “God, Frankie. Can’t last. Gotta come.”
She placed a gentle hand on his back. “No. Not yet.” She increased the pressure, pushing on his sore skin, the pain helping him forget his need for a moment.
He heard her drop the crop on the floor, and he struggled to decide whether he was relieved or disappointed. Her hands gripped his waist from behind, and she tugged him toward her.
“Bend at the waist,” she commanded. “As much as you’re able.”
He complied. Somewhere along the line, he’d given his body to her. He was hers for the taking, the exploring, the adventure. There was—quite simply—nothing he wouldn’t give her at this moment.
She reached around him and lightly gripped his cock. After her firm touches and painful blows, her stroke was disappointing, not enough.
“Harder.”
She placed a soft kiss on his upper back. “No.”
“Dammit, Frankie. You’ve had your fun, but?—”
She removed her hand from his cock completely. “Bad boy. Don’t move. Not a muscle.” She walked away and he fought the urge to look behind him, to see what she was doing.
He heard her rifling through his desk, and his curiosity piqued. “Looking for something?”
She returned and took her place directly behind him once more. He was beginning to feel like a fool, chained in a doorway, bent at an odd angle, his bare ass sticking out. God help him if Brian decided to walk in.
Something cold touched his ass, and he knew what she’d grabbed. For a moment, his cock actually wavered.
“No,” he said.
She ignored him, her finger continuing to delve deeper into his ass.
“Frankie. I mean it.”
She stopped for a moment, but she didn’t remove her finger. “Sixty seconds.”
“What?”
She started to push deeper once more. “Give me sixty seconds. Count out loud. If you still want me to stop by the time you hit sixty, I will.”
He swallowed heavily. Even a minute seemed too long, but as she plunged deeper, he had to admit he felt an odd stirring low in his gut. His cock had resurged, harder than it had been since they’d started this liaison.
“One, two,” he began.
She pushed more firmly, her entire finger engulfed in his ass. It was only when she was fully seated that he realized her fingernail wasn’t cutting him.
“Nails?” he asked, interrupting his count.
“I cut two of them off in the bathroom earlier. You didn’t notice?”
He been so focused on her outfit, her face, the incredible things she was doing to his body, he’d failed to notice her hands. Then another fact came home to rest. “Two?”
She laughed softly, the sound wholly feminine and sexy. Her finger withdrew, returning faster than her previous journey in.
He gasped and resumed his count. “Fifteen, sixteen.”
She began to thrust inside his ass, shallowly at first and then deeper, harder. He felt himself anticipating her return trips, pushing back to capture more of her finger. He’d forgotten all about the count until she increased the pressure and added another finger to the first.
“Fuck,” he said between gritted teeth. The tight pinching was almost more than he could bear. “Thirty.”
She reached around his waist and grasped his cock once more. This time her grip was firm, controlled. She rubbed his cock in time with the fingers fucking his ass, and he lost all grasp on reality. She trapped him in her erotic web, wrapped him in silk bindings and he was now her willing victim. He was on the verge of coming when she surprised him by withdrawing from his ass.
“No.” Her fingers pressed hard against the base of his balls. He trembled, struggling to hold back his come. Why he was obeying her when all he wanted was to erupt, drawing a new pattern on the carpeting in her office, was beyond him. All he knew was he had to stop.
She took her hands away from him, stopped touching him completely. He hung limply from his chains, his body exhausted from the effort of holding back.
“Please,” he whispered, the sound of his voice pleading. He never begged, but in this moment, he was willing to go on his knees before her. He’d offer her the world on a silver platter for the right to come.
She walked around him. Stood before him. Her face was blissful, happier than he’d ever seen it. For a moment, he thought she might lean forward and kiss him. Instead, she lowered the zipper on her catsuit, her breasts threatening to fall out of the outfit at any moment, giving him the perfect view of heaven, and then she went to her knees.
His legs went weak at the image of her kneeling before him.
“I want you to come in my mouth.” Her command issued, she took his cock in hand, drawing it to her lips. She engulfed him, one slow inch at a time, until he felt the back of her throat. Then, she released the wild woman inside and gave him the greatest blowjob in the history of giving head. She took him in roughly, deeply.
He fought to hold on, fought to restrain his body’s natural impulses. Her mouth was heaven and he wasn’t willing to leave it so soon. She was offering him a precious, beautiful gift and he never wanted it to end. His arms shook, the chain rattling above his head, as he struggled not to come.
Just a few seconds more.
Just a second.
One last thrust in her hot, wet mouth and he felt his tenuous grip on control break.
“God, Frankie,” he yelled as he started to come. It felt as if she was sucking every drop of come out of his body, taking it all until he began to go light-headed. He’d never come so hard or so long. In the aftermath, she held him in her mouth as his cock went soft.
Rising slowly, she unlocked the manacles and held him as he slowly went to his knees. She’d killed him with pleasure. Taken complete control of his body, his mind. Possessed him in a way no one ever had before and, as he looked up at her beautiful face, he knew no one ever would again.
She’d just claimed the part of him he’d never relinquished to another woman. His heart. And for the first time in his life, he felt complete.