Chapter Five
The hell if he could think with his dick tied up in a bow. His fingers itched to jerk the sash off, throw her over his shoulder, and haul her off to bed. It wasn’t her threats of punishment that stilled his hand, though. It was fear that he if took charge, as usual, that the blessed erection he’d finally regained would seep away and he’d be right back at the beginning.
With burning, desperate need—and no ability to satisfy it.
She didn’t have to warn him that this was her game. Play by her rules, or she’d walk. And if she walked…
“If it means you’ll take me to bed, then you can punish me any way you want.” He swallowed hard and clenched his fists, fighting down the urge to seize control of the situation. “Ma’am.”
The slight sting to his ego was immediately salved by the heat of her glowing eyes. “Then you can go lie flat on your back in my bed and wait for me to join you.”
Relieved, he did as she asked. No, as she told him. I’ve got to get my mind wrapped around it. She orders. I do it. Or she walks.
“Make yourself good and comfortable,” she called after him. “You’re going to be there for awhile.”
He ground his teeth but swallowed down the retort. Fuck waiting. Fuck her. Yeah, please, soon. Shit.
Slamming his fist into a pillow a couple of times in a mockery of fluffing it, he lay down as ordered. Simmering hot, both his mood and his lust. It felt like he was careening down a freeway in the dark with no headlights in his first car. An old 1968 Mustang that was more rust than anything else until he could afford to fix it up piece by piece, leaking gas like a sieve. One tiny spark would have turned him into a fireball, but damned if he’d park that beast and walk or ride his bike to school.
He lifted his head, moving the pillows until he could see her. She still puttered in her closet, hanging up the dress, putting her shoes away, stripping off her lingerie as if they were priceless artifacts, and then slowly making her way around the room picking up his clothes he’d tossed about. He hadn’t exactly been tidy and by all accounts, Mal appeared to be a neat-freak.
I won’t leave my crap around for her to pick up again. Not happening on my watch.
Not that she seemed to mind. In fact, she hummed softly as she walked around the room, fully aware that he tracked her every movement. He’d never known a woman so comfortable in her skin. She didn’t flaunt her body. She just owned that fine ass and sweet tits like a she was a queen and she knew it, just like she knew he was looking and getting harder by the moment. In fact, she loved every moment of his attention if the knowing smile on her lips was any indication.
Finally, thank God, she came to the side of the bed, but instead of joining him, she rummaged around in the drawer of the nightstand. Condoms he expected. A hank of white cotton rope gave him pause. Thick enough he wouldn’t be able to snap it no matter how hard he tried.
She gave him a wink. “In case you need some help keeping your hands where I tell you to put them.”
His heart pounded and sweat broke out on his forehead. Anxiety? He wasn’t sure. “I don’t think I’d like being tied up.” Helpless. A spasm rocked through his body and he still didn’t know if the idea terrified him, pissed him off, or… sent him into overdrive. His dick was still hard, so he wouldn’t complain. Yet.
She cupped his balls and he hauled in a hissing breath. Fuck, it felt like fire bloomed in his guts. “You didn’t think you’d like that big cock all tied up either, but he’s looking pretty happy.”
Her fingers roamed higher and it was all he could do to lie there and pant and hope he didn’t come again.
“Not too tight yet, but I’ll keep an eye on it. You ready for your orders?”
Blinking hard, he focused on her face. “Ma’am?”
“It’s simple, really. You know the first rule already.”
At her lifted brow, he managed to answer, though his mouth felt like it was full of rocks. “Don’t touch you unless you say.”
She nodded, trailing her fingers up his stomach, so light and teasing it made him hop around like a June bug on hot pavement. Then suddenly she was on top of him, settling down high on his chest, her knees planted on either side of his ribcage. His hands lifted reflexively, but he caught himself just in time and slammed his arms back down hard to the bed.
But her pussy. It was right there. So close, open and glistening, her musky scent filling his nose. If a drug lord had barged in with guns blazing, Colby doubted he’d have been able to drag his gaze away in time to save them both.
“Push your hands back a little and grip the bar of the headboard. It’ll be easier for you if you have something to hang on to.”
It took a few moments for her words to sink in, but then he did as she suggested and wrapped his palms around the cool round metal bar.
“You ready for the second rule?”
He figured that she’d want him to look up at her face, some confirmation that he heard and was paying attention, but she edged closer, sliding her knees up over his biceps, giving her some leverage—but also widening up her thighs and bringing heaven closer to him. Opening his mouth, he started to lift his head and get his first taste of her, but she pressed his forehead back down. Refusing him.
He groaned with frustration and she laughed with a husky catch in her voice. Her folds were so wet. She wanted him, even knowing his problem. Even though he might not be a submissive that suited her style of domination.
She wants me.
He growled and pushed his head against her fingers, but Mal was no little cream-puff girl. She rose up, putting more of her weight onto her knees, pinning his arms and his head at the same time, and he couldn’t get his mouth on her. At least not without risking banging her head on the wall or tossing her off the bed if he heaved with all his strength. He couldn’t risk hurting her.
Somehow, when he’d imagined her thighs wrapped around his head, he hadn’t pictured it quite this way.
“Don’t come until I tell you. That’s the second rule. Got it?”
He nodded his head as well as he could under her hand, but that wasn’t good enough for the Mistress of Dallas.
“Say it. Now. Out loud.”
“I won’t,” he panted. “Come. Until you say.”
“Good boy.” But she still didn’t let his head up. “Take all that need, all that frustration, and let it growl in your voice as you say my name.”
“Mal.”
Rock hard muscle beneath her, pinned, waiting for her command. Fuck. Was there any bigger turn on?
She lifted her hand from his head and he immediately leaned up and sucked at her flesh like a starving man. Letting her head fall back, she held herself still and allowed herself to simply feel. It’d been too damned long since she’d had a man’s tongue beneath her, and she couldn’t fault his technique or his enthusiasm. He wasn’t afraid to get messy and dove right in, nose deep, tongue flattened against her, eager to explore. It was easy to come. Easy to let the pleasure pour from her lips on a deep purr of satisfaction—especially when his enthusiasm, and yeah, desperation, increased exponentially.
He worked his face harder against her, putting those neck and shoulder muscles to good use, but he managed to keep his hands locked around the lower bar of the headboard. Even more importantly, he didn’t come. She glanced over her shoulder and checked the condition of his cock. Painfully hard, deep purplish red, still fully engaged in their play. So far so good, though she’d need to get that belt off him soon to avoid compromising blood flow.
But first…
With the edge of her desire knocked down a bit, it was time to play, at least a little. She shifted her weight forward, making sure he felt the force of her knees holding him down. She sat deeper on him, pushing his head back down to the pillow, both to give his neck a break, and to make him feel her dominance. The first time had been light, pleasant, fun. Immediate gratification. This time when she came, she was going to detonate his kink cherry. He’d know once and for all that he’d been well and truly dominated.
His shoulders bucked up beneath her. Testing her strength. If she softened, he’d have his hands on her in a second, likely rolling her beneath him. Everything he’d do with a vanilla woman in the throes of ecstasy. Wrapping her hands around the bars of her bed, she bore down harder on him and began moving on top of him. Riding his face, letting his shoulders rock her. He managed to spear his tongue inside her a few strokes, until she pulled back a moment to make sure he could catch his breath. His chest heaved beneath her, every muscle and ligament standing out in stark relief beneath his taut skin. It took every ounce of his strength and determination to keep his hands where she’d told him.
It’d be so easy for him to throw her off. Ignore her command and seize her breast in one of those powerful hands. Flip her off to the side. He could be balls-deep in a second. And yeah, she wanted that too—but in her time. Not his.
He didn’t have to lie beneath her like this. He allowed her to have her way with every inch of his magnificent body. That, more than the friction of his whiskers against her tender skin or his tongue on her clit spiraled her lust higher. He could have refused. He could have fought. He could have denied her.
But he didn’t. He allowed it.
So many people thought submission made a man whipped. Weak, emasculated, humiliated. Some men definitely got off on that. But for her, the ultimate submission was exactly this. A strong, powerful man who chose to allow her full access. Who denied himself in order to please her.
Such an incredible man.
Shuddering, she came again, grinding her clit harder against his face, even while she managed to reach back and yank the bow loose on his cock.
He heaved up beneath her, dislodging her back onto his chest.
“Fuck,” he roared out, rolling his head back and forth on the pillow. “Mal, please, for Christ’s sake.”
Panting, she worked the belt off. “What do you want, soldier boy?”
“Let me fuck you.”
His words sent another wave of lust thundering through her. He didn’t demand his own pleasure. He didn’t make a statement of his needs. Even with blood flooding his restricted cock, he still managed to ask, let me. Not I want.
“Go for it, sugar.” His eyes popped open, his biceps bulging even more if that was possible. One last desperate grip on the bed in case he was mistaken. “Show me how good you can fuck. Give me all you’ve got.”