Chapter 32
Varen stood, gently bringing Nala to her feet before pushing her toward the staircase. With her arms bound behind her, Nala was truly at another’s mercy. I trust her.
Their steps were slow going up the spiral staircase to the lofted bedroom.
It gave Nala time to relax against Varen, feeling the hair hang from her head and scrape against the shining metal around her.
None of that compared to the heat radiating from beneath this woman’s T-shirt.
Her breaths were steady, her need to have Nala so quickly abated.
Nala didn’t worry about her pleasure. She knew that Varen would take care of her.
Their strides across the bedroom were quicker, Nala neatly falling to the bed. Won’t be neat pretty soon. Varen freed her arms but squeezed them so Nala knew not to move. She was merely changing their positions before binding them again.
There was no hurry. Varen took her time disrobing her vixen, as she called Nala more than once.
She had graduated from a succubus, apparently.
Never mind. Nala would continue to play up those fantasies in her head.
Me, a demon. Her, a demon. Together we dance in darkness to release our most carnal desires.
Entire cultures sang songs about our union.
“You must be more beautiful than the day you were born.”
Varen knelt between Nala’s bent legs, pulling her T-shirt over her head.
So. Hot. And strong. Over the past few days, Nala had seen her working out around the house.
Pushups on the floor here. Stretches against the couch there.
Early morning jogs. A punching bag hanging in a corner.
Varen didn’t have a lot of time to dedicate to a gym, so she took breaks to punch something or use her body as a tool.
Nala drank her in as Varen loomed over her. She looks so happy. Was she doing that to her? Was she making Varen feel like this for the first time in forever? How often had Varen felt like this with another woman since the death of her fiancée? Was this… the first time?
With Nala, of all people?
“You will have to take that up with my mother, ma’am.” Nala could be cheeky again. “I think she has the final authority.”
“Let’s not bring your mother into this.”
She knelt, sampling Nala’s areolas between her teeth while never breaking eye contact. It was erotic and emotional all at once, leaving Nala in a nether space between desire and an emotion she had never felt so profoundly since the last time they made love.
I remember the chasm of stars. A million of them, twinkling in time to our lovemaking. I fell in love with her that night. Here she was again, turning into a foolish girl at the sight of a woman who liked to tie her up and fuck her face.
“Nala,” she whispered after her tongue drew a long, tantalizing trail down Nala’s chest. “I want to take you to places. Places you can’t even imagine existing. Will you let me?”
She forced back a knowing look. “Of course, Mistress. My body is yours to command.”
Varen caressed her face while turning Nala over on her stomach. “What are you?”
This game continued. She said the same word as the previous two times, and Varen hopped off the bed to take what she wanted from the nearest nightstand.
“You still think so?” She drew out two long silk strips, weighing them in her hands, testing their durability while her muscles flexed.
The color of the silk was such a deep purple that they looked as black as a midwinter’s day.
No, the twinkling of the silk makes them look like the chasm of stars.
Nala braced herself, partly in infatuation, as the strips landed softly on the bed.
“You’re free to think that, for sure, but know that I will continue to see you differently.”
What does she mean?
She was her usual silent self as she tied a tight, intricate knot into the center of the headboard and drew the two ends of the silk strips toward Nala.
Naturally. Her wrists were bound again, still together, but now hanging from the strips in front of her.
So much resistance bundled in that fabric, but if Nala pulled hard enough, they still gave. Just like her.
The rest of her was free, for now. Varen laid her partner’s legs out straight on the bed, pushing them together and letting her hands roam up Nala’s ass and back.
Kisses heavier than the ones on her mouth landed on supple flesh, almost ravenous in their pursuit.
Varen had nothing to be shy about as she ravaged the dimples between Nala’s cheeks and thighs, her tongue lashing against hidden spaces and hands squeezing Nala so hard that it was almost more unbearable—in the best way—than the spanks from earlier.
This woman wants me to moan myself to death. She wasn’t opposed.
“I have one more test for you tonight,” Varen said against Nala’s skin. “If you can make it through the next few minutes without uttering a sound, I will give you whatever you want.”
She swallowed. “You ask a lot of me.”
“I know. That’s why I ask it.”
“I’ll do it, ma’am.”
“We’ll see.”
She knew that with a challenge like that, something pleasurable was coming.
First, she had been asked to endure pain without flinching.
Now, she was asked to endure pleasure without sound.
Her obedience was being stretched to new destinations, and in turn, she learned what Varen wanted not from a sub, but from her.
Here it came.
Not a spank. Not dirty talk. Just Varen’s tongue, pinching, both making their way all over Nala’s nether regions, dipping into folds, drawing lines up slits, and plunging into areas they had no business being in.
Nala channeled the pleasure into her slight movements, attempting to avoid a single sound falling from her lips—if she could help it.
Not easy. Varen had such a way with her tongue that Nala writhed back and forth, biting back screams of ecstasy, words of adoration, and the whimpers demanding to be freed. This is impossible!
Yet she fought to control herself. In time, Nala grew to realize that submission wasn’t always about being controlled by another person.
It was also about controlling oneself. Submitting to oneself.
There was a lot to learn from these situations that Nala could apply to other aspects of her life.
She needed to mature. To learn to be less brash and hotheaded.
To control her temper. She may be an adult, but she often found herself in situations that could have been prevented if she simply meditated for a bit.
Submitting to Varen forced her to face these parts of herself.
She would always be a rebel and contrary.
That was who she was. Varen didn’t want to change that.
She wanted to teach Nala how to control it.
That was the role of her Domme. Not to exert force over her, but to bring out the best from inside of her.
The woman she called Mistress wouldn’t be her queen. She would be her teacher.
In the meantime, Nala would love her.
So even though she wanted to scream, to cry, to heave the loudest breaths in history against the bed, she didn’t. She wanted to make Varen proud. Not just to get her reward, but to prove that she was worthy of being her Mistress’s obedient student.
And worthy of her love.
When the test was over, with nary a peep from Nala’s clenched lips and stifled throat, Varen sat back. “What do you want, darling?” she asked. “I’ll give you anything.”
Can you give me your heart? Nala had to shake that thought from her head. “I want you,” she said, knees pushing up her hips. “I want you to take me. Please, Mistress.”
Was it working? Was her ticket to success bumping her ass into the air and enticing Varen? I’m really fucking wet. She felt it on her thighs, running down her leg, and from the air hitting her between the folds.
“What else, Nala? I know you want something else.”
Oh, there it was. Varen drew her hips up and knelt right behind Nala, barely touching her.
A fury of desires wound themselves up inside Nala.
Now! I want it now! She had been denied all sorts of things tonight.
First, she couldn’t flinch. Then she didn’t get her orgasm.
Then she had to be quiet while she was pleasurably tormented some more.
Was this it? Was this finally her reward for a job well done that night?
She knew what she wanted.
“I want you to talk dirty to me, Mistress.” She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with much-needed air. “That first night you took me as yours… part of what made it so exhilarating was how you talked to me.”
“You’re strange,” Varen replied. “I’ve never met a woman who likes that level of filth.”
“Of course, it means nothing if you don’t mean it, ma’am.”
“I was coming from a dark place that night. I resented how guilty I felt wanting you. If I did it now, it wouldn’t be the same.”
“I think it would.”
“Why is that?”
Nala looked over her shoulder. “Because deep down, I am a demon who has been spending these past few weeks seducing you into feelings you haven’t allowed yourself for a long, long time. It doesn’t hurt to be reminded of what I am.”
She grinned, assuring her that this was a joke, of course. Varen returned the favor, removing her bra, the very last thing she had been wearing. When she reached to touch Nala as she had all night, she disobeyed, moving her legs to one side and fighting her need for Varen.
“What are you…”
“You’re going to have to do better than that.” Nala’s hiss stung the air, and she watched as Varen went from the lady to the demanding Domme in about two seconds.
This was the wildest game they had played yet, but it exhilarated Nala’s heart in ways she could not express.
If she was going to see Varen as her teacher, then she would have to continue to earn her respect.
Varen would have to prove herself, over and over, matching wits with the flighty bird who would never be content to be kept in a cage all day.
Nala would always be trying to break free because that was her nature.
She wanted to feel Varen forcefully hold her hips down, spread her legs and mutter into her ear that she was a terrible wench who needed to learn her place.
She wanted to feel Varen sit on top of her as she reached into her drawer of bondage gear and pulled out more silk scarves and strips.